Monday, May 04, 2009
My Grandfather On National Defense:
"They say we're out defending the country in Afghanistan and Iraq, how can we be defending our country there? If there's a group of people fighting out in the street you don't jump in to help; get your head knocked off. If you're wise you don't anyway, if you're drunk you might. Either way you get your head knocked off."
Thursday, January 22, 2009
on religion and morals
Being both a philosophy student and a person who, for some probably logical but as of yet unknown reason, has a weird amount of Christians in her inner circle of friends, this is an area of great interest and importance to me. As a result, I’ve spent a lot of time in thought and conversation regarding the place of religion in my life and in the world, and have a painful abundance of material to share regarding my relation to religion and its development.
My start in the world (not accounting for the possibility of past lives and such) was dictated to a relatively significant extent by religion; I refer to myself occasionally as a “cradle Catholic”, a term which, for those unfamiliar, describes a person who, like myself, was born into a Catholic family and consequently Christened under and raised within the Catholic church. And so, every Sunday until my parents’ divorce (and thus our alienation as a family from the church) we went to mass, my sister and I attended Catholic school, and I can say pretty confidently that I was a perfect little Catholic girl, due to the solid faith which was programmed into my impressionable little mind that there was an all powerful and relatively fickle deity up there watching my every move.
And so, fairly predictably, the volatile combination of my own deeply inquisitive, thoughtful nature, and the pressure any child is under when involved so inevitably in what I would describe as essentially a cult, when met with the catalyst of my wonderfully liberal maternal Grandmother introducing me to genuine, thrillingly new alternatives to Christianity, led to my rebellion from the Catholic church, which had been becoming increasingly unsatisfactory to me as I approached my pre-teen years as it was. From this new awareness I had gained of this idea of freedom of religion, I went out and proceeded, naturally, to subscribe to yet another organized religion, but this time it was a) one that made a lot of sense to me logically and morally, and b) about the coolest one I could find: Paganism, or, Wicca. And so off I went into teendom, with my Grandmother’s graceful, seemingly eternal ‘Mother Nature’-esque example in front of me, as a very green, but also remarkably revering, witch. I was Pagan because I loved that I could be a part of a religion which worshipped not something ethereal and male; both “omnipresent” and yet seemingly omni-absent, but instead something which I could see all around me, and see as worthy of worship in its undeniable beauty and power, something which was both male and female, like the World itself, and capable of both good and evil, like Humanity itself: Nature. At last I could channel my prefab faith and appreciation into something which I had decided for myself with my own mind was worthy of worship. I remained involved in Wicca for a few years, until eventually my involvement waned to interest, and finally simply an objective appreciation and affection, which it remains to this day.
Again I had given my all to a religion, my energy and interest and faith, and this time entirely voluntarily, and yet still, with time, that faith which I tried so stubbornly to truly feel and live had diminished, fading eventually into nonexistence. I was sure there were some things I believed in, but what I did believe was not only considerably vague in my own mind, but unsettlingly contrary any of the mainstream, or even the less mainstream, religious groups which I was aware of. And so, after a brief period of fashionably cocky staunch Atheism, I at last found my true Savior: Philosophy. Or, to be more specific, you could say that I found my true Holy Trinity: Philosophy of Religion, Mrs. Evry, and Bertrand Russell. I took Philosophy at A-level because for some reason I was just drawn to it. And, unintelligently “wishy-washy” (as Evry would, I suspect, observe) as that sounds, I cannot give you any more reason than that because there really isn’t any. But thank the heavens I did (and yes, for someone who doesn’t believe in the Judeo-Christian concept of God, I do vocally invoke him rather often; if you are offended by this, don’t worry, I’ll get mine).
Through my two years’ study of Philosophy, I learned how to essentially do some much needed clearing out and organizing of my thoughts and beliefs, and to begin to think in a different, more coherent and logical way, which vastly improved my state of mind, capability as a student, and proficiency as a person, and which to this day impacts greatly how I think and live. On my Facebook (or Bacefook as I prefer to call it) profile, my religion is listed as simply “:Bertrand Russell”, as I have him, along with my wonderful, witty, inspiring teacher Catherine Evry, to thank for my current comfortable, crafted almost, religious outlook. And although I am yet of only the tender age of eighteen years, the perspective which I hold now I feel intrinsically allows for any future alterations in my views. So what are my religious beliefs now? Some might describe me as having no religion. Were the whim to take me to subscribe to an organized religion of some form it would probably be Hinduism, as this fits most comfortably with my moral and spiritual life, but as of yet this particular whim has not taken me. I could describe myself fairly accurately, I would say, as a ‘fideist agnostic’; I believe very fundamentally that any belief must be understood and treated as just what it is, (as is evidenced even in the dual definition of its synonym)- faith. Not knowledge, not a self-evident, indisputable truth which others must be informed or convinced of or else, but belief.
I have a hard time imagining that a person is no more than their physical composition, and this, along with my own obscure ‘sense’ or ‘feeling’ that I have a soul, leads me to believe that human beings have souls or spirits. It also makes quite a lot of sense to me that perhaps these souls could be in a kind of recycling process, moving into new bodies and experiencing new lives once our current bodies cease to be handy vehicles via which we can live. My moral structure is a simple but logical one; I live by the incontestable principle that joy is good, and hurt is bad (to utilize some simple but effective nursery-style vocab.), and so my moral objective is to create as much happiness and as little harm as possible. Obviously this is a large-scale theory, and must be understood as such-so anyone who is about to interject with some example of the joy one man may find in bashing another’s head against a wall is asked to think more broadly in order to understand that this is not justified within the theory, because the hurt caused by this man’s theoretical Neanderthal actions would negate overwhelmingly any superficial happiness that he may gain from the attack; the idea is for the most overall positivity in the world, and so takes into account collateral ramifications of every action. And so I try, day to day as well as on the long-term, bigger scale of my intentions for my life, to live and work for the avoidance and healing of pain, and the creation of joy. My specific ethical beliefs can hopefully be inferred from their derivation in this principle, but any questions as to my views on particular moral issues are welcome and will be met with, yes, you guessed it, yet more rambling transcript from my overactive mind.
I believe that the Judeo-Christian concept of God is logically incoherent to the extent that, although it cannot be strictly disproven via reason, I personally am incapable of having any genuine conviction of the possibility of his existence. I also believe, while we’re in the vicinity of gendered pronouns, that the gender imbalance in the World, caused greatly by religion since the hostile replacement of earlier, more gender-balanced faiths with Christianity (and Islam, et cetera), is the root of many if not all of the major issues which we as a species have faced for centuries and continue to face. My views on this coincide fairly accurately with my views on partisanship U.S. politics; there’s a reason the flag involves both red and blue- elements of both are required to create a balanced state, just as a balance of gender is required for society to function to its fullest. Religion’s part in this gender crisis (no, not hyperbolic in the least) somewhat shakes my appreciation of the positive societal role it plays in giving people hope and direction, although this appreciation does fundamentally endure, and is one reason why I find it very difficult to condemn organized religion outright.
Another intrinsic problem I have with organized religion is the tradition of its involuntary enforcement onto entirely defenseless children by parents and other adults in positions of authority. I am a very strong advocate, as a citizen of the United States of America, of freedom in all senses of the word, including of course religious freedom (incidentally, when I turned sixteen I was ordained as a minister of the Universal Life Church, the simplicity and wit of which I respect greatly to this day), and raising a child into a religion without elucidating to him or her that this religion is not fact and is not the only option, seems to me to be a flagrant disregard of that child’s freedom of thought and of lifestyle. I appreciate how this may be a tough one, especially for the very devout among parents and guardians, as even I will attest to the disciplinary and developmental positives of religion in a child’s life, and can of course understand the desire of a parent to want their child to share in their faith, but I truly believe that children, as human beings, respect not only honesty but the opportunity to think for themselves, and are likely to, in turn, respect greatly any adult which offers them these things. Try to imagine yourself, as a child, having a grown-up explain to you what religion is, and that there are a myriad of religions out there which you are free to explore and understand and become a part of if you wish, and then explain, as an example, his or her own religious views. All I can say is that I believe I would have had a great deal of respect for that person, most likely which would’ve led to me joining them voluntarily in their beliefs. Then, if, when I hit my teens, I decided to explore other faiths, it wouldn’t need to be a rebellion, and there would be no possible necessary resentment towards the parent or guardian for having forcibly confined my belief system. But this, of course, as always, is only my view.
And these are only my views on religion and morals, not some kind of alleged higher truth I’m trying to spread or even some idea I’m trying to sell. Of course, I am in the human habit of hoping for people to share in my beliefs, or to read some of this stuff and think ‘hey, y’know, that makes sense’, but I wouldn’t wish for anyone to just buy something I’ve said because it’s interesting or new (she said, with disturbing arrogance), because much as I’d revel in people finding logic in my long and winding prose, the most valuable message I would hope for anyone to take from this post, would be to explore your own mind and beliefs without that fear of being proven wrong hanging over you. This is not by any means an easy task, and it’s something which I’m still learning to remember to do as often as possible, but the level of clarity and understanding which is gained from changing a winner-loser, debate type discussion into a mutual search for truth via the amalgamation of others’ experience and intellect with your own is unparalleled, and indescribably worthwhile.
Edit: Feb. 26th '10
So, I found myself scribbling these random little notes into my notebook a little while back in the dark, and I figure this is the place to plonk them; what I didn't include so much of in the original post here was actual disclosure/description of my personal views, and what follows is kind of a rough outline of that.
"I worship the World, Nature, Existence itself, as opposed to some presumed creator, and without the capacity or will even to imagine a beginning or an end.
I look up and I am in awe at the sheer, blinding beauty of even a grey sky, and this is what I worship.
I look around a subway car, and I am reduced quietly to laughter or tears by the phenomenon of human nature, and this is what I worship.
Does this sound like not being able to see the forest for the trees? Well, I'd rather see the people than the crowd."
My start in the world (not accounting for the possibility of past lives and such) was dictated to a relatively significant extent by religion; I refer to myself occasionally as a “cradle Catholic”, a term which, for those unfamiliar, describes a person who, like myself, was born into a Catholic family and consequently Christened under and raised within the Catholic church. And so, every Sunday until my parents’ divorce (and thus our alienation as a family from the church) we went to mass, my sister and I attended Catholic school, and I can say pretty confidently that I was a perfect little Catholic girl, due to the solid faith which was programmed into my impressionable little mind that there was an all powerful and relatively fickle deity up there watching my every move.
And so, fairly predictably, the volatile combination of my own deeply inquisitive, thoughtful nature, and the pressure any child is under when involved so inevitably in what I would describe as essentially a cult, when met with the catalyst of my wonderfully liberal maternal Grandmother introducing me to genuine, thrillingly new alternatives to Christianity, led to my rebellion from the Catholic church, which had been becoming increasingly unsatisfactory to me as I approached my pre-teen years as it was. From this new awareness I had gained of this idea of freedom of religion, I went out and proceeded, naturally, to subscribe to yet another organized religion, but this time it was a) one that made a lot of sense to me logically and morally, and b) about the coolest one I could find: Paganism, or, Wicca. And so off I went into teendom, with my Grandmother’s graceful, seemingly eternal ‘Mother Nature’-esque example in front of me, as a very green, but also remarkably revering, witch. I was Pagan because I loved that I could be a part of a religion which worshipped not something ethereal and male; both “omnipresent” and yet seemingly omni-absent, but instead something which I could see all around me, and see as worthy of worship in its undeniable beauty and power, something which was both male and female, like the World itself, and capable of both good and evil, like Humanity itself: Nature. At last I could channel my prefab faith and appreciation into something which I had decided for myself with my own mind was worthy of worship. I remained involved in Wicca for a few years, until eventually my involvement waned to interest, and finally simply an objective appreciation and affection, which it remains to this day.
Again I had given my all to a religion, my energy and interest and faith, and this time entirely voluntarily, and yet still, with time, that faith which I tried so stubbornly to truly feel and live had diminished, fading eventually into nonexistence. I was sure there were some things I believed in, but what I did believe was not only considerably vague in my own mind, but unsettlingly contrary any of the mainstream, or even the less mainstream, religious groups which I was aware of. And so, after a brief period of fashionably cocky staunch Atheism, I at last found my true Savior: Philosophy. Or, to be more specific, you could say that I found my true Holy Trinity: Philosophy of Religion, Mrs. Evry, and Bertrand Russell. I took Philosophy at A-level because for some reason I was just drawn to it. And, unintelligently “wishy-washy” (as Evry would, I suspect, observe) as that sounds, I cannot give you any more reason than that because there really isn’t any. But thank the heavens I did (and yes, for someone who doesn’t believe in the Judeo-Christian concept of God, I do vocally invoke him rather often; if you are offended by this, don’t worry, I’ll get mine).
Through my two years’ study of Philosophy, I learned how to essentially do some much needed clearing out and organizing of my thoughts and beliefs, and to begin to think in a different, more coherent and logical way, which vastly improved my state of mind, capability as a student, and proficiency as a person, and which to this day impacts greatly how I think and live. On my Facebook (or Bacefook as I prefer to call it) profile, my religion is listed as simply “:Bertrand Russell”, as I have him, along with my wonderful, witty, inspiring teacher Catherine Evry, to thank for my current comfortable, crafted almost, religious outlook. And although I am yet of only the tender age of eighteen years, the perspective which I hold now I feel intrinsically allows for any future alterations in my views. So what are my religious beliefs now? Some might describe me as having no religion. Were the whim to take me to subscribe to an organized religion of some form it would probably be Hinduism, as this fits most comfortably with my moral and spiritual life, but as of yet this particular whim has not taken me. I could describe myself fairly accurately, I would say, as a ‘fideist agnostic’; I believe very fundamentally that any belief must be understood and treated as just what it is, (as is evidenced even in the dual definition of its synonym)- faith. Not knowledge, not a self-evident, indisputable truth which others must be informed or convinced of or else, but belief.
I have a hard time imagining that a person is no more than their physical composition, and this, along with my own obscure ‘sense’ or ‘feeling’ that I have a soul, leads me to believe that human beings have souls or spirits. It also makes quite a lot of sense to me that perhaps these souls could be in a kind of recycling process, moving into new bodies and experiencing new lives once our current bodies cease to be handy vehicles via which we can live. My moral structure is a simple but logical one; I live by the incontestable principle that joy is good, and hurt is bad (to utilize some simple but effective nursery-style vocab.), and so my moral objective is to create as much happiness and as little harm as possible. Obviously this is a large-scale theory, and must be understood as such-so anyone who is about to interject with some example of the joy one man may find in bashing another’s head against a wall is asked to think more broadly in order to understand that this is not justified within the theory, because the hurt caused by this man’s theoretical Neanderthal actions would negate overwhelmingly any superficial happiness that he may gain from the attack; the idea is for the most overall positivity in the world, and so takes into account collateral ramifications of every action. And so I try, day to day as well as on the long-term, bigger scale of my intentions for my life, to live and work for the avoidance and healing of pain, and the creation of joy. My specific ethical beliefs can hopefully be inferred from their derivation in this principle, but any questions as to my views on particular moral issues are welcome and will be met with, yes, you guessed it, yet more rambling transcript from my overactive mind.
I believe that the Judeo-Christian concept of God is logically incoherent to the extent that, although it cannot be strictly disproven via reason, I personally am incapable of having any genuine conviction of the possibility of his existence. I also believe, while we’re in the vicinity of gendered pronouns, that the gender imbalance in the World, caused greatly by religion since the hostile replacement of earlier, more gender-balanced faiths with Christianity (and Islam, et cetera), is the root of many if not all of the major issues which we as a species have faced for centuries and continue to face. My views on this coincide fairly accurately with my views on partisanship U.S. politics; there’s a reason the flag involves both red and blue- elements of both are required to create a balanced state, just as a balance of gender is required for society to function to its fullest. Religion’s part in this gender crisis (no, not hyperbolic in the least) somewhat shakes my appreciation of the positive societal role it plays in giving people hope and direction, although this appreciation does fundamentally endure, and is one reason why I find it very difficult to condemn organized religion outright.
Another intrinsic problem I have with organized religion is the tradition of its involuntary enforcement onto entirely defenseless children by parents and other adults in positions of authority. I am a very strong advocate, as a citizen of the United States of America, of freedom in all senses of the word, including of course religious freedom (incidentally, when I turned sixteen I was ordained as a minister of the Universal Life Church, the simplicity and wit of which I respect greatly to this day), and raising a child into a religion without elucidating to him or her that this religion is not fact and is not the only option, seems to me to be a flagrant disregard of that child’s freedom of thought and of lifestyle. I appreciate how this may be a tough one, especially for the very devout among parents and guardians, as even I will attest to the disciplinary and developmental positives of religion in a child’s life, and can of course understand the desire of a parent to want their child to share in their faith, but I truly believe that children, as human beings, respect not only honesty but the opportunity to think for themselves, and are likely to, in turn, respect greatly any adult which offers them these things. Try to imagine yourself, as a child, having a grown-up explain to you what religion is, and that there are a myriad of religions out there which you are free to explore and understand and become a part of if you wish, and then explain, as an example, his or her own religious views. All I can say is that I believe I would have had a great deal of respect for that person, most likely which would’ve led to me joining them voluntarily in their beliefs. Then, if, when I hit my teens, I decided to explore other faiths, it wouldn’t need to be a rebellion, and there would be no possible necessary resentment towards the parent or guardian for having forcibly confined my belief system. But this, of course, as always, is only my view.
And these are only my views on religion and morals, not some kind of alleged higher truth I’m trying to spread or even some idea I’m trying to sell. Of course, I am in the human habit of hoping for people to share in my beliefs, or to read some of this stuff and think ‘hey, y’know, that makes sense’, but I wouldn’t wish for anyone to just buy something I’ve said because it’s interesting or new (she said, with disturbing arrogance), because much as I’d revel in people finding logic in my long and winding prose, the most valuable message I would hope for anyone to take from this post, would be to explore your own mind and beliefs without that fear of being proven wrong hanging over you. This is not by any means an easy task, and it’s something which I’m still learning to remember to do as often as possible, but the level of clarity and understanding which is gained from changing a winner-loser, debate type discussion into a mutual search for truth via the amalgamation of others’ experience and intellect with your own is unparalleled, and indescribably worthwhile.
Edit: Feb. 26th '10
So, I found myself scribbling these random little notes into my notebook a little while back in the dark, and I figure this is the place to plonk them; what I didn't include so much of in the original post here was actual disclosure/description of my personal views, and what follows is kind of a rough outline of that.
"I worship the World, Nature, Existence itself, as opposed to some presumed creator, and without the capacity or will even to imagine a beginning or an end.
I look up and I am in awe at the sheer, blinding beauty of even a grey sky, and this is what I worship.
I look around a subway car, and I am reduced quietly to laughter or tears by the phenomenon of human nature, and this is what I worship.
Does this sound like not being able to see the forest for the trees? Well, I'd rather see the people than the crowd."
Monday, January 12, 2009
The Latest
So, here's the latest.
Back in London, saving for a ticket back to New York.
Considering a tattoo once I have some money.
Incredibly over-excited about the Fleetwood Mac tour.
Looking forward to the release of 'Lesbian Vampire Killers', which looks hilarious.
Feeling complete once more with the new E.R. and B.&S. seasons started.
frustrated with trying to find a job, but otherwise happy to be back in the city, and to be heading in the right direction. I'm gonna try to start writing here more often also.
Amor, cognitio, ars.
xx
Back in London, saving for a ticket back to New York.
Considering a tattoo once I have some money.
Incredibly over-excited about the Fleetwood Mac tour.
Looking forward to the release of 'Lesbian Vampire Killers', which looks hilarious.
Feeling complete once more with the new E.R. and B.&S. seasons started.
frustrated with trying to find a job, but otherwise happy to be back in the city, and to be heading in the right direction. I'm gonna try to start writing here more often also.
Amor, cognitio, ars.
xx
Saturday, June 14, 2008
NObama?
Ok, so I think it's about time for an election post. As you may know, I was born an American citizen due to my mother being American, and despite having grown up overseas, the U.S. is where my heart is, and the country where I feel most at home. I'm also turning eighteen in October, so, come the November general elections, I will be proudly utilizing my first vote. Now, I have been, probably predictably, a devoted Clinton supporter since day one; I got up at six in the morning after Super Tuesday to get the results (cross-Atlantic time-difference), and cried with joy when I saw how well she'd done; I watched every speech; tried and failed to donate (because some campaigns, unlike Obama's, won't accept donations from under eighteens); watched every day as the delegates rose and fell; and finally cried with anger and sadness when Hillary was left no option but to drop out.
The dilemma I'm left with now, other than the terrifying prospect of either a bloodthirsty Republican or an inept, puerile "orator " as the next President of one of the most powerful countries in the World, is what to do with my precious first vote. Do I actively vote in a candidate who I don't have faith in? Or do I withhold my treasured suffrage?
My thoughts at the moment are currently with the conglomeration of organizations and petitions which are still fighting either for the DNC to count the wrongly attributed votes and fix this mess, or for Hillary Clinton to run independently of the Democratic Party. Let's hope that democracy can hold, and we can remedy this dire situation.
Friday, April 18, 2008
isn't life hilarious?
Well well well!
Methinks it's time for a quick update seeing as things have changed *again* quite significantly, and before exam season. However, it's gonna have to be super-fast because I have an essay to write which I want to get done today and it's already a quarter past five! Right, so the main change is in uni plans-guess who, after all the drama, got accepted into Warwick University? ...that's right, Shell. Haha not really, she had no drama before she got her offer :D so yes, hurrah, I now have a place at an awesome uni on an awesome course, with the added bonus of my soul mate going to the same place. In short, it's so entirely like :O fate! that I'm ashamed at how convinced I now am of fate despite having given it not nearly enough thought. But I'm severely happy anyhow, and all I need now is to actually work and get my required grades haha, so I'm thinking it's essay time. Oh, and it's official, I adore Ani DiFranco. And Belgium is really very pretty, and the people speak embarrassingly perfect English. That's all! Essay time.
Methinks it's time for a quick update seeing as things have changed *again* quite significantly, and before exam season. However, it's gonna have to be super-fast because I have an essay to write which I want to get done today and it's already a quarter past five! Right, so the main change is in uni plans-guess who, after all the drama, got accepted into Warwick University? ...that's right, Shell. Haha not really, she had no drama before she got her offer :D so yes, hurrah, I now have a place at an awesome uni on an awesome course, with the added bonus of my soul mate going to the same place. In short, it's so entirely like :O fate! that I'm ashamed at how convinced I now am of fate despite having given it not nearly enough thought. But I'm severely happy anyhow, and all I need now is to actually work and get my required grades haha, so I'm thinking it's essay time. Oh, and it's official, I adore Ani DiFranco. And Belgium is really very pretty, and the people speak embarrassingly perfect English. That's all! Essay time.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
new look
So, as you can (hopefully) see, I have tried changing the look of the journal. Due to my immeasurably far from even competent knowledge of HTML, it's not exactly how I want it, but it works pretty well and is almost legible if you adjust the window size to the size of the background image.
:) I'll try to get it all nice at some stage, perhaps with the help of a kindly computer genius.
vivamus atque amemus
xx
:) I'll try to get it all nice at some stage, perhaps with the help of a kindly computer genius.
vivamus atque amemus
xx
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
so, you know that sign I was looking for?
I think on Thursday, in the form of being rejected from the final uni I was interested in and had the required grades for, it arrived.
Arrived is far too passive a verb.
Anyhow, I got my sign, so now I guess it's time to stop being what most people would call "careful" or "realistic" (so, cowardly), and start being brave and fierce.
You can't be careful about ambition.
So here's the plan: I somehow find the motivation to finish my A2's over the next five months, then I go back to London, find myself some place to stay, get myself a waitressing job or something, & start gigging.
Exciting isn't it?
Finally; I've been feeling a lot of things over the past few days, dealing with this abrupt change of plan, above all I've been more scared than I've ever been, I've also been frustrated that my original plan of getting a degree first isn't possible anymore; basically I've been just trying to think through it all and catch up, place myself. Then last night some things occurred to me; first of all, as I said, I've been waiting for a push in either direction for a while now; if this isn't a sign I don't know what is, and secondly, maybe this whole "clever plan" I had in place was just a way of avoiding a decision which needs to be made, and which I clearly wasn't brave enough to think about yet.
But thankfully, I've been pretty much handed the courage to make the decision I wanted to. I'm not gonna continue to put life off.
I've finally got the freedom I've been craving, and now, finally and after much thought, it feels awesome.
Wish me luck :)
xx
Arrived is far too passive a verb.
Anyhow, I got my sign, so now I guess it's time to stop being what most people would call "careful" or "realistic" (so, cowardly), and start being brave and fierce.
You can't be careful about ambition.
So here's the plan: I somehow find the motivation to finish my A2's over the next five months, then I go back to London, find myself some place to stay, get myself a waitressing job or something, & start gigging.
Exciting isn't it?
Finally; I've been feeling a lot of things over the past few days, dealing with this abrupt change of plan, above all I've been more scared than I've ever been, I've also been frustrated that my original plan of getting a degree first isn't possible anymore; basically I've been just trying to think through it all and catch up, place myself. Then last night some things occurred to me; first of all, as I said, I've been waiting for a push in either direction for a while now; if this isn't a sign I don't know what is, and secondly, maybe this whole "clever plan" I had in place was just a way of avoiding a decision which needs to be made, and which I clearly wasn't brave enough to think about yet.
But thankfully, I've been pretty much handed the courage to make the decision I wanted to. I'm not gonna continue to put life off.
I've finally got the freedom I've been craving, and now, finally and after much thought, it feels awesome.
Wish me luck :)
xx
Friday, January 25, 2008
pin
Everything is in my heels.
Like someone came in the night
and slid all of the things that are usually
"on my shoulders",
the weight of the world,
into my shoes.
The weight of my world is in my heels,
meaning I can't walk at my usual speed..
then again,
how fast can you really walk
when you don't know where you're headed?
Sorry, that's all I've got.
Not much for a pro is it? Never mind,
'cause failure clearly is an option,
or hobby.
Which this can't be anymore,
'cause I may not want to nourish myself right now,
but at some point I'll need to.
I can do this
I am strong
I am big
I just need to
get it out of my heels and
onto a page
or a line
onto a stage.
Just a stage
of transition
I'm just in shock,
I'm sure fruition
is around the corner,
I just need more time.
I'm just so fragile,
the spaces between my own lines shake me,
the lines that used to make me
now feel bad, feel out to break me,
my lines are woven, strung up,
waiting for my neck,
my life,
dead or alive?
Line of my life, or noose?
Fight, or flight?
Here I begin.
Find a brave face for a stranger,
& a dropped pin.
Like someone came in the night
and slid all of the things that are usually
"on my shoulders",
the weight of the world,
into my shoes.
The weight of my world is in my heels,
meaning I can't walk at my usual speed..
then again,
how fast can you really walk
when you don't know where you're headed?
Sorry, that's all I've got.
Not much for a pro is it? Never mind,
'cause failure clearly is an option,
or hobby.
Which this can't be anymore,
'cause I may not want to nourish myself right now,
but at some point I'll need to.
I can do this
I am strong
I am big
I just need to
get it out of my heels and
onto a page
or a line
onto a stage.
Just a stage
of transition
I'm just in shock,
I'm sure fruition
is around the corner,
I just need more time.
I'm just so fragile,
the spaces between my own lines shake me,
the lines that used to make me
now feel bad, feel out to break me,
my lines are woven, strung up,
waiting for my neck,
my life,
dead or alive?
Line of my life, or noose?
Fight, or flight?
Here I begin.
Find a brave face for a stranger,
& a dropped pin.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
it's t-junction time..
...or at least it will be pretty soon. Problem is, I'm having real trouble with what to do with my life. It's not that I lack in ambition, in fact, it's the exact opposite that's causing me trouble; there is so much I want to achieve and be, one person couldn't possibly be all of the things that I would die disappointed having not been. And of course, true to my contradictory nature, while I have this uncontrollable longing to do so much, I also have the sort of character which means I have to give myself entirely to something or I won't be happy.
So I was born with this inherent pull in me to react to high intensity by writing, singing, etc.; generally harnessing everything into creativity, mostly music. And if I could never listen to music again, I am almost certain that I would spend the first hour of every day of the rest of my life crying until I ran out of breath.
But can I really dedicate myself to something so down to chance? I don't do well without routine, & my confidence in my apparent talent gets knocked relatively easily.. could I really cope living from one sleazy bar and one room apartment to the next?
My other option is serving my country in a job which I think I'd be very good at and which would give me more security in most ways. I'm incredibly patriotic, & a job requiring the sort of dedication as this does suits me really quite well.. it would also be extremely interesting and challenging.
But that option leaves me no choice but to back burner music, which I'm doing right now for my studies and which just.. makes me feel like I'm not functioning fully or something..
So. There's my problem- I know I would love both lives, & I think I'd thrive in both, but it all depends on chance & what ifs, & it's driving me out of my mind. I guess I'm gonna have to just keep looking out for signs, & have faith that what is meant to be will happen...
vivamus atque amemus,
jo
xx
So I was born with this inherent pull in me to react to high intensity by writing, singing, etc.; generally harnessing everything into creativity, mostly music. And if I could never listen to music again, I am almost certain that I would spend the first hour of every day of the rest of my life crying until I ran out of breath.
But can I really dedicate myself to something so down to chance? I don't do well without routine, & my confidence in my apparent talent gets knocked relatively easily.. could I really cope living from one sleazy bar and one room apartment to the next?
My other option is serving my country in a job which I think I'd be very good at and which would give me more security in most ways. I'm incredibly patriotic, & a job requiring the sort of dedication as this does suits me really quite well.. it would also be extremely interesting and challenging.
But that option leaves me no choice but to back burner music, which I'm doing right now for my studies and which just.. makes me feel like I'm not functioning fully or something..
So. There's my problem- I know I would love both lives, & I think I'd thrive in both, but it all depends on chance & what ifs, & it's driving me out of my mind. I guess I'm gonna have to just keep looking out for signs, & have faith that what is meant to be will happen...
vivamus atque amemus,
jo
xx
Sunday, November 18, 2007
in honor of Alanis' upcoming album:
some of my favorite Alanis material:
"You from New York
you are so relevant
you reduce me to
cosmic tears.
Luminous more so
than most anyone,
unapologetically alive.."
"You'll rescue me, right? In the exact same way they never did?"
"Front Row"
do you go to the dungeon to find out how to make peace with your days in the dungeon writing a letter to you didn't make me feel any more peaceful then how I felt when we weren't speaking because I didn't cop to what I did. I can't love you because we're supposed to have professional boundaries. i'd like you to be schooled and in awe as though you were kissed by god full on the lips . i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn I get to see you see you close up i'm too tired to recount the unpleasantries one by one one minute I want to banish you the next I want to be on a deserted island with you along with my three favorite cd's ambivalent yet in your bed we've yet to acknowledge what really happened slid into the ditch I have this overwhelming loss of ambition we said let's name thirty good reasons why we shouldn't be together I started by saying things like "you smoke" "you live in new jersey (too far)" you started saying things like "you belong to the world" all of which could have been easily refuted but the conversation was hypothetical I am totally short of breath for you why can't you shut your stuff off..... i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn I get to see you see you close up and I laughed until my lungs hurt I love how you bust my chops you don't always feel seen sometimes you feel erasable unfortunately I cannot reciprocate in my current state I think we should be careful of how much time we spend together.....for a while i'm speaking you know how much you hate to be interrupted maybe spend some time alone to fill up your proverbial cup so that it doesn't always have to be about you i've been wanting your undivided attention I like the fact that you're nothing like me are you not burdened by the lack of perspective people have of your charmed life i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn I get to see you see you close up you never meant to be ungrateful nor held up to be whipped or wept for certainly not analysed prodded at more ways than one apparently you've been misrepresented dealing with the concept of arrows being slung towards your outrageous fortune hey i'm not mad at you guardian i'm mad at myself for spending so much time with you and your jekyl and hydeness i'm glad i figuratively slapped you on the wrist you laughed a wicked laugh and said "come here let me clip your wings!"(i know he's blood but you can still turn him away you don't owe him anything) "raise the roof" he yelled "yeah raise the roof!" I yelled back. (unfortunately you needed a health scare to reprioritize.) no thanks to the soap box. having me rile against them won't make an ounce of difference...... i'm in the front row the front row with popcorn. I get to see you see you close up oh the things i've done for you many a sitch a friend a man's been left for you oh the books i've read for you the tongues i've bitten for you many a new city for you many a risk taken for you (not a single regret).
Her lyrics are pure honesty and genius, her voice is beauty, her music is real. I am so beyond excited about this new album... it's bordering on unhealthy :]
vivamus atque amemus,
jo
x
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Isn't it curious...
how now that it's publicly viewable online, my sister no longer has any interest in reading my journal?
Haha..
Also, I dislike Facebook. I'm not sure why people prefer it to Myspace.
These are my reasons to be happy today:
conditional offer for ABB from Royal Holloway
interview at Cambridge
amazing people in my life
beautiful guitar
No Doubt getting back together :O :D
and, most importantly,
It's almost Christmas!
Love and such to you all :)
xx
Haha..
Also, I dislike Facebook. I'm not sure why people prefer it to Myspace.
These are my reasons to be happy today:
conditional offer for ABB from Royal Holloway
interview at Cambridge
amazing people in my life
beautiful guitar
No Doubt getting back together :O :D
and, most importantly,
It's almost Christmas!
Love and such to you all :)
xx
Saturday, September 29, 2007
"going away to college"
..there are two things that I should establish before I start here.
Firstly, I’m not the sort of person that cries at the sorts of things that most people cry at, but as I write this I am “unabashedly bawling” my eyes out, as I have been for the last twenty minutes. And secondly, due to various defense mechanisms, I rarely get attached to people; since age seven I’ve been able to like people a lot but be fine about leaving without a trace.
Yet here I am, weeping like a child over someone who I’ve only known for a year.
It is not very often that you meet a truly good, honest, beautiful person, especially one who will put up with someone like me. But that’s exactly what Sandy is. When I first met him, I didn’t even think we’d be able to be civil to eachother considering how hugely we differ in views and beliefs. He’s now one of my favorite people in the world, and I’m not even sure how it happened. I realize that I probably sound slightly ridiculous.. posting this might not be smart haha.. but I’ve never had anyone in my life before who made everything seem ok just by being there, who you knew you could rely on any time, who could make you feel like you were worthwhile and loved even when you doubted you could love yourself, who was so perfect, but somehow never made you feel lower than him even really though you were. He walked into our group of friends, and he made everything glow with his warmth and light and love.
I hope that, however far apart we are, he will always be one of my closest friends. And I am going to miss having him there every day like I miss being young enough to fall asleep in the car at night without fear of a crash.
I love you sweetheart, speak soon!
xx
p.s. HAVE FUN! ..but don't make any cool new friends =P
p.p.s. THQUIRREL!!! :{D
Firstly, I’m not the sort of person that cries at the sorts of things that most people cry at, but as I write this I am “unabashedly bawling” my eyes out, as I have been for the last twenty minutes. And secondly, due to various defense mechanisms, I rarely get attached to people; since age seven I’ve been able to like people a lot but be fine about leaving without a trace.
Yet here I am, weeping like a child over someone who I’ve only known for a year.
It is not very often that you meet a truly good, honest, beautiful person, especially one who will put up with someone like me. But that’s exactly what Sandy is. When I first met him, I didn’t even think we’d be able to be civil to eachother considering how hugely we differ in views and beliefs. He’s now one of my favorite people in the world, and I’m not even sure how it happened. I realize that I probably sound slightly ridiculous.. posting this might not be smart haha.. but I’ve never had anyone in my life before who made everything seem ok just by being there, who you knew you could rely on any time, who could make you feel like you were worthwhile and loved even when you doubted you could love yourself, who was so perfect, but somehow never made you feel lower than him even really though you were. He walked into our group of friends, and he made everything glow with his warmth and light and love.
I hope that, however far apart we are, he will always be one of my closest friends. And I am going to miss having him there every day like I miss being young enough to fall asleep in the car at night without fear of a crash.
I love you sweetheart, speak soon!
xx
p.s. HAVE FUN! ..but don't make any cool new friends =P
p.p.s. THQUIRREL!!! :{D
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
"Assess the view that justified true belief is not the same as knowledge."
The view that knowledge is ‘justified true belief’ is Plato’s Tripartite Theory of Knowledge. Having accepted that knowledge is more than just true belief, Plato goes on to realise that the condition which separates the two is justification. For example, if you have the belief that ‘the cat is on the mat’, and you are justified in this belief because you can see the cat on the mat, if it turns out that your belief is true; if factors from the external world correspond with your belief; then you have knowledge. The problem with this theory, as outlined by Gettier, is that there are exceptions to this rule. To have knowledge, you must have both the necessary & the sufficient conditions fulfilled; just as if you intended to make a pie, you would require the necessary conditions (your ingredients, oven, etc.) as well as the sufficient condition of actually having the pie in front of you, made & ready to enjoy. We can easily say that the conditions which Plato includes are individually necessary, but issues arise when we attempt to show that the conditions are jointly sufficient. Gettier recognised this flaw in Plato’s theory, & illustrated it in his ‘Is Justified, True Belief Knowledge?’ paper through examples in which all the conditions are fulfilled, but the person cannot be said to have true knowledge. ‘Gettier-Type Counter Examples’ show that the condition which causes trouble is the ‘justification’ condition. For example, say a university student comes in one day looking for a professor he desperately needs to talk to regarding some work. On walking towards the professor’s office, the student passes through the staff car park, and, on the knowledge that his professor drives a purple Porsche, sees such a vehicle parked in the professor’s spot and deduces from this that the professor is in, and his trip to visit her will not be in vain. Now, let’s say that the professor is in on the day in question, but she did not drive in with her car, she skated in. And it just so happens that some other fortunate owner of a purple Porsche drove in using their Porsche, and sneakily parked in our professor’s spot. The justification which the student used to gain the knowledge of the professor being in was in fact nothing to do with whether or not she was, there was no ‘causal connection’ between the two, so does the student have knowledge? According to Plato’s tripartite theory he does, but most people would disagree because the student’s justification was open to question. Although we must take into consideration that the Gettier counter examples rely heavily on coincidence, the issue which Gettier raises is very valid, and allows us to form a further, reviewed version of the tripartite theory. In this theory, the three conditions remain the same, but with the addition of a fourth condition, or ‘extra condition’, which includes an extra justification in order to authenticate the knowledge, for example a ‘causal connection’ condition, which states that there must be a relevant connection between the piece of potential knowledge and the justification. This type of ‘extra condition’ would be suitable in our Porsche example if, for instance, the student’s justification for his professor being in was that as he could see her working through her office window as he was walking towards the building. Having this extra condition, along with the other three conditions, would mean that the student has knowledge of the fact that his professor is in, however, without this last condition, he doesn’t, even though he has a justified, true belief. Therefore, it is clear that, although it is valid, and the revised version would have been impossible without it, Plato’s idea that justified, true belief is knowledge is not always reliable.
(just thought I'd let you in on some of my Philosophy things, seeing as it's such a substantial part of my life these days).
vivamus atque amemus! (my new motto =) look it up..)
jo
xx
(just thought I'd let you in on some of my Philosophy things, seeing as it's such a substantial part of my life these days).
vivamus atque amemus! (my new motto =) look it up..)
jo
xx
Thursday, August 16, 2007
a.s. results...
I have but one thing to say...
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh, and this...
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D
guess who got:
B in Latin
B in Theatre Studies
A (:O) in English Literature
and...
wait for it...
A IN PHILOSOPHY!!!!!
ME!!!
THAT'S RIGHT!
Jesus, I don't think I've ever been so elated. Me and Shell both got A's in Philosophy; something we were told was virtually impossible.
I LOVE YOU!
jo
xxxxxxx
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh, and this...
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D
guess who got:
B in Latin
B in Theatre Studies
A (:O) in English Literature
and...
wait for it...
A IN PHILOSOPHY!!!!!
ME!!!
THAT'S RIGHT!
Jesus, I don't think I've ever been so elated. Me and Shell both got A's in Philosophy; something we were told was virtually impossible.
I LOVE YOU!
jo
xxxxxxx
Friday, July 20, 2007
two things..
in (rather schizophrenic) response, as t'were, to my last two blogs, there are a couple 'o things I would like to expline. (Yes, I did intend to write "expline", 'cause if you read it aloud you sound like Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Dolittle). Firstly, it has occured to me that I gave no explanation for Noah (haha) and probably should, as it looks rather out of place :P basically, by two biotches (Rell & Shosie) and I went on a prep. course for an English paper we might me taking next year, & after two days of talks etc. at this rainforest thingy nearby us we were asked to create some form of creative writing relating to said rainforest; Noah is the rather odd fairytale-esque result of my mind when set free to frolick in a humid atmosphere which made me look like some kind of wild bush woman as it does due to the lunacy of my hair. It was considerably amusing. You are permitted to laugh at my misfortune..
so there's your explanation for Noah (to an extent haha). Now for thing nombre two; on re-reading some of my writing, I have encountered the fact that I utilise some considerably superfluous sounding language which may appear superficially to point to some sort of arrogance or snobbery on my part which I must strongly refute, as there is most certainly no causal connection between the two. The reason I often write in a manner which even I will admit may justifiably be described as "like a knob" (quoting only my own paraniod psyche, by the by) is that I quite genuinely just like using words which sound interesting and fit better than others in the context.
Why do I so often find myself explaining & excusing myself for things that I haven't been critcised about? Ah, the various complexes within this complex mind. I'll figure myself out someday I'm sure haha..
have a loverly eventide! (tide being the operative word if you're anywhere near here!)
jo
xxx
so there's your explanation for Noah (to an extent haha). Now for thing nombre two; on re-reading some of my writing, I have encountered the fact that I utilise some considerably superfluous sounding language which may appear superficially to point to some sort of arrogance or snobbery on my part which I must strongly refute, as there is most certainly no causal connection between the two. The reason I often write in a manner which even I will admit may justifiably be described as "like a knob" (quoting only my own paraniod psyche, by the by) is that I quite genuinely just like using words which sound interesting and fit better than others in the context.
Why do I so often find myself explaining & excusing myself for things that I haven't been critcised about? Ah, the various complexes within this complex mind. I'll figure myself out someday I'm sure haha..
have a loverly eventide! (tide being the operative word if you're anywhere near here!)
jo
xxx
on fear
The world, I don’t need to remind you, can be a scary scary place. I mean really. And we all see it, every day; there’s the horror movie of knowing that there are people out there who want to hurt our country for their beliefs, there’s the pressure of the importance of our own capacities, there’s the often constant fear of losing the things we hold closest, the overwhelming, and consequently massively irresponsibly ignored, fear of our effect on the world we live in on a foundational level; the list is colossal. And from this it goes right down to the microcosm of sudden attacks of irrationally intense fear about what we should or shouldn’t wear, or how we look (although that could just be me). What I want to know is how something which (although it can work for good occasionally and in moderation) is largely a negative and damaging emotional influence on us has become so innate a part of human nature. It’s a torturous question to ask yourself because, nervous-laughably, the answer is a considerably frightening one. Now, I do often emphasize my own ignorance, & I will do so here also-any knowledge that I have is acquired from my puny sixteen years of experience (a period of time which has unfortunately not yet proven sufficient to rid me of the urge to put “and a half!” after my age, I might add. After all, I am nearly seventeen. Hahaha. Back to business..), and, although I reckon I’ve spent these first years observing and thinking with considerable fervor (I love that word), I can and will not be so arrogant as to hold any conclusions which I come to as some kind of high fact. They’re works in progress and so attack all you want; that’s what life is for to me at the moment-learning. There it is again! Now I’m covering my back out of fear that post-posting I will be caught unprepared for some kind of moral duel! And here lies my, as usual irritatingly long-time-coming, point. I think that perhaps our fear isn’t as irrational as we consider it to be on an intellectual or moral level; I think we are scared because in creating a society where even our celebrities, supposedly the people we admire and love most (after all we made them famous) are relentlessly criticized and attacked for their appearance among other things, and I’m talking world level problems here, we have built something scary. A society with a fear pandemic, born from some other disorder-so what creates fear? When I last visited my Grandma she gave me some books, one of which was Louise L. Hay’s “You Can Heal Your Life”, a work which explores the author’s belief that anything, including severe and otherwise allegedly incurable illnesses, can be solved by a change in thought patterns. In reading the book, I picked up on Hay’s evident suggestion that what really terrifies a human being is a lack of feelings of trust and love. This concept comes through in her diagnoses & “new thought patterns” and, although I remain unconvinced about her theory’s accuracy on a large scale, I can see the logic in the correlations she makes: if fear can, as I believe from experience it can, be placated by love and a feeling of safety, then it follows coherently that the cause of it must be the awareness of a lack of love and/or trustworthiness in a person’s emotional, political, social, work; life, environment. And here again lies the reason this is a difficult issue to take on-that is one scary answer, because it essentially points to the difficult to refute or swallow conclusion that our society hugely lacks in something as fundamental and, frankly, important, as love. So there you have it-my point at last-I think that we’re scared because we don’t make eachother feel safe in the way that we should and I believe (hope) used to. So, instead of worrying our frightened little souls about it, I would hope that if you take anything from this it is to consider a) trying to change the things that scare you about our society, and b) trying to help yourself and others to feel like this world is and can be a safe, loving place. Good god I’m a hippie.
jo
xxx
jo
xxx
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Noah
It’s funny how things repeat themselves. Events cross over, re-occur, the same mistakes peer over horizons so often it’s surreal. But what most people don’t realize (mainly adults) is that the recurrence of similar events is far wider than just the same governments making the same mistakes and causing the same problems on Earth; heroes and coincidence thread through parallel worlds as well as different ages and tap on shoulders and whisper in ears and used to remind people how to think properly. Unfortunately, however, in general people have stopped listening now. You’ve probably heard a tale like this before, these issues probably sound familiar, but sometimes grown ups need to be tricked into realizing things. They’re a little slow like that. Maybe after you’ve heard Noah’s story, you’ll end up a different sort of grown up, the sort of grown up that listens.
There was a world not too far from our own once, just up a little and to the left. The people with the telescopes didn’t see it, because they look with their eyes closed, but it was there. This world, called Liberos, was spherical like ours & had a government. Just the one, for the entire place. It hadn’t always been that way, but at some point someone decided that it would be a good idea. This government was run by four men with beards called Man, Man, Man & Man. There were some specific laws, but most fell under the one “high law”- “obey the four”. Everyone followed it, although they weren’t really sure why.
One of the first of the “lower laws” which the four made when they came into power was that all things that were “wrong” would be destroyed. One of these things was the color green. I don’t really know why the color green was considered evil, but it was, and so every forest, every tree, every blade of grass, was wrenched from the loving hands of the ground & destroyed. Concrete replaced earth. The whole of Liberos was grey and hard, except for one, sacred grove at the very summit of the world, which the four had decided to spare as a reminder to the citizens of the lowly things they had helped the Liberosi to rise above. And (I suspect as was the four’s intention), with the emerald sea departed any mind sets desirous of a freer life, leaving a nation of either lobotomized blind followers or potential rebels oppressed into submission. Gradually the numbers of underground free thinkers shrunk, and most resolved to conform. But the saddest thing of all was that they lost something important; the aching feeling that they used to have when they thought about the green that used to surround them. That faded.
But what the four didn’t know was that the ache wasn’t so easily erased; the green wasn’t gone without a fight. It was furious! And quite rightly so. It was inevitable that soon enough citizens would be born with the ache, but they didn’t know that because their ears only hear people who think they are never wrong.
There was a boy of about seventy-five (nearly twelve in our years) who lived in north-west Liberos with his parents, Woman and Woman. His name was Noah, but that wasn’t particularly interesting. In fact, he was fairly ordinary in most ways, except for his eyes. Noah’s eyes were the color of the deepest, densest, most stunningly intense and alive green that he had never seen. He didn’t even know, because there were no mirrored surfaces permitted in Liberos, but that must have been it. There must have been something calling in those cavernous jewels which transferred itself into his soul, because when Noah heard that after the next Great Somnios (an annual ten day long worldwide sleep interlude in Liberos) the four were going to ceremoniously destroy the final forest, he was immensely negatively effected in an inexplicable manner.
Noah loved the final forest, secretly…he had seen photographs of it on posters around the city and, while everyone around him recoiled in disgust, he thought they were unbelievably beautiful. He had tried to tell Woman and Woman about how he was so happy that it had been kept, but they just misunderstood him, presumed he meant so that he could appreciate the “beautiful grey”, as it was called. Or at least he thought they did. He didn’t want the four to decimate the last precious breaths of emerald in his world, and it was all that he could do in the last few weeks before the great rest to try and think of a way to save the crowd of organic pillars from execution.
Whether it was the silent darkness, or the isolation, or whether that last day happened to mark, along with the culmination of his previous frantic contemplations, just the right time for the answer to appear to him, that first hour of the Somnios was when it happened. It suddenly occurred to him what the cause of it all was. He remembered what Woman had once taught him about how for everything that someone does there’s a reason, she called it an “incentive”. And that if you took away that reason, the thing wouldn’t happen any more. And during that first hour, Noah figured out what the four’s incentive was. It was the fluttering, glimmering, golden sleaze that clung to everything it came into contact with like grease. It was money.
It seemed like a wild thing to do; refreshing within the suffocation of his world. “Lunacy” they’d call it, but was it any madder, crazier than how they dealt with things? A consciousness with room to breathe. Sudden outlet. And so out he walked. He didn’t creep; there was no need-no one ever even considered the possibility of deviance by then. And it didn’t take as long as he had anticipated. I suppose when you’re so familiar with something, its so integral, you know where to find it. Good thing the four were so pedantic in meticulously arranging where it was to be kept-ha!-they even had gigantic mustard yellow signs marking them all off, inadvertently leading him on his pilgrimage to save his own existence, his last line of hope, line of battle, only choice. And once it was all gathered (in anything he could utilize as carrying implement), he harnessed one of his world’s natural powers, fire, to eliminate it all.
The flames victory danced around the pathetic papers, decades of suppression finally rightfully released, and within a matter of hours it was a page of the same puny weight in a history book. He felt safe within the elastic of the anarchy which held its breath for the next days. What would everyone do? What would the banks do? What would the four do? In the days that followed he was relinquished a choice-he could travel to the forest and watch the repercussions of his victory from afar, or he could return to his parents, his room, and life, and simply blend in and watch it all explode like fireworks right in front of his eyes – beautiful, shocking, correct. The money was gone; what would they do? His boat, he stayed to watch it sail.
jo
xxx
There was a world not too far from our own once, just up a little and to the left. The people with the telescopes didn’t see it, because they look with their eyes closed, but it was there. This world, called Liberos, was spherical like ours & had a government. Just the one, for the entire place. It hadn’t always been that way, but at some point someone decided that it would be a good idea. This government was run by four men with beards called Man, Man, Man & Man. There were some specific laws, but most fell under the one “high law”- “obey the four”. Everyone followed it, although they weren’t really sure why.
One of the first of the “lower laws” which the four made when they came into power was that all things that were “wrong” would be destroyed. One of these things was the color green. I don’t really know why the color green was considered evil, but it was, and so every forest, every tree, every blade of grass, was wrenched from the loving hands of the ground & destroyed. Concrete replaced earth. The whole of Liberos was grey and hard, except for one, sacred grove at the very summit of the world, which the four had decided to spare as a reminder to the citizens of the lowly things they had helped the Liberosi to rise above. And (I suspect as was the four’s intention), with the emerald sea departed any mind sets desirous of a freer life, leaving a nation of either lobotomized blind followers or potential rebels oppressed into submission. Gradually the numbers of underground free thinkers shrunk, and most resolved to conform. But the saddest thing of all was that they lost something important; the aching feeling that they used to have when they thought about the green that used to surround them. That faded.
But what the four didn’t know was that the ache wasn’t so easily erased; the green wasn’t gone without a fight. It was furious! And quite rightly so. It was inevitable that soon enough citizens would be born with the ache, but they didn’t know that because their ears only hear people who think they are never wrong.
There was a boy of about seventy-five (nearly twelve in our years) who lived in north-west Liberos with his parents, Woman and Woman. His name was Noah, but that wasn’t particularly interesting. In fact, he was fairly ordinary in most ways, except for his eyes. Noah’s eyes were the color of the deepest, densest, most stunningly intense and alive green that he had never seen. He didn’t even know, because there were no mirrored surfaces permitted in Liberos, but that must have been it. There must have been something calling in those cavernous jewels which transferred itself into his soul, because when Noah heard that after the next Great Somnios (an annual ten day long worldwide sleep interlude in Liberos) the four were going to ceremoniously destroy the final forest, he was immensely negatively effected in an inexplicable manner.
Noah loved the final forest, secretly…he had seen photographs of it on posters around the city and, while everyone around him recoiled in disgust, he thought they were unbelievably beautiful. He had tried to tell Woman and Woman about how he was so happy that it had been kept, but they just misunderstood him, presumed he meant so that he could appreciate the “beautiful grey”, as it was called. Or at least he thought they did. He didn’t want the four to decimate the last precious breaths of emerald in his world, and it was all that he could do in the last few weeks before the great rest to try and think of a way to save the crowd of organic pillars from execution.
Whether it was the silent darkness, or the isolation, or whether that last day happened to mark, along with the culmination of his previous frantic contemplations, just the right time for the answer to appear to him, that first hour of the Somnios was when it happened. It suddenly occurred to him what the cause of it all was. He remembered what Woman had once taught him about how for everything that someone does there’s a reason, she called it an “incentive”. And that if you took away that reason, the thing wouldn’t happen any more. And during that first hour, Noah figured out what the four’s incentive was. It was the fluttering, glimmering, golden sleaze that clung to everything it came into contact with like grease. It was money.
It seemed like a wild thing to do; refreshing within the suffocation of his world. “Lunacy” they’d call it, but was it any madder, crazier than how they dealt with things? A consciousness with room to breathe. Sudden outlet. And so out he walked. He didn’t creep; there was no need-no one ever even considered the possibility of deviance by then. And it didn’t take as long as he had anticipated. I suppose when you’re so familiar with something, its so integral, you know where to find it. Good thing the four were so pedantic in meticulously arranging where it was to be kept-ha!-they even had gigantic mustard yellow signs marking them all off, inadvertently leading him on his pilgrimage to save his own existence, his last line of hope, line of battle, only choice. And once it was all gathered (in anything he could utilize as carrying implement), he harnessed one of his world’s natural powers, fire, to eliminate it all.
The flames victory danced around the pathetic papers, decades of suppression finally rightfully released, and within a matter of hours it was a page of the same puny weight in a history book. He felt safe within the elastic of the anarchy which held its breath for the next days. What would everyone do? What would the banks do? What would the four do? In the days that followed he was relinquished a choice-he could travel to the forest and watch the repercussions of his victory from afar, or he could return to his parents, his room, and life, and simply blend in and watch it all explode like fireworks right in front of his eyes – beautiful, shocking, correct. The money was gone; what would they do? His boat, he stayed to watch it sail.
jo
xxx
Friday, June 22, 2007
American Idol
Right, so here’s something I really must have a bitch about ‘cause it genuinely drives me insane, & has lately been the cause of me ending up in a quiet fury following various ventures downstairs in innocent, clearly naïve, search of something to watch which is either interesting and beneficial to my life, or a trashy reality show which serves as light entertainment and a reminder that I should be grateful for my fairly well-functioning brain. But, instead, I return upstairs concerned not only about the lives of the people who create it’s popularity, but the repercussions it could have and is having on the already unwell music industry. “Well, what is this ‘it’?” I hear you say. “quit rambling and get the hell on with it!” you exclaim with exasperation. Ok, no need to raise your voice. The cause of my emotional upheaval is one of a few shows which, if I were a Christian, I would, I think, truly believe had come straight from the devil as part of a cruel but absolutely genius plot to poison society. The current culprit? American Idol.
It was a good idea. It’s undeniably difficult to get seen in the music industry. Hundreds of awesome, talented artists a year probably decide to go for something less risky or give up and take that office job after their last chance demo was to no avail, it was a good idea. So what happened? I suspect that, as with so many other things, the U.S. government for example, something which was potentially an immensely powerful force for good ended up in the wrong hands and was, therefore, turned into something which could dilute the patriotism of a senator. To get to the crux of why I have such an issue with the show, it would serve, I think, to inform you of my finely tuned methods for seeking out music which will influence my life in a positive way:-
-it is absolutely indisputable that the voice must be unique. Forgettable voices, voices that fit into a genre, & voices that you wouldn’t say ‘oh my god what is that voice doing on this cruise ship stage?’ to are not going to narrate inspirational lyrics.
-the artist has got to have a huge amount of character, and an interesting personality and life story.
-the lyrics are central; if I can’t hear/relate to/believe that there is integrity behind the lyrics, the music is pretty much invalid.
-as a direct result, genres such as screamo are more or less ruled out, along with cabaret-type clichéd lyrics (often identified by use of the word ‘babe’/’baby’).
-albums with sleeves that don’t say “all songs written by (artist’s name) except track five which is a phenomenally well done cover or written with someone the artist feels a very strong musical affinity with.” are immediately put back on shelf, occasionally accompanied by a small look of disappointment.
-the only artists not subject to the above rule are those which either not only fit point one but exceed it to the degree of ridiculousness (e.g. Barbra Streisand), or are so phenomenal at what they do in every other area that whether they can write or not is irrelevant (e.g. Madonna).
…
Now, considering that American Idol has been created to actually breed ‘artists’ who:-
-all have good, very (often actually to the point where they are barely distinguishable from eachother) forgettable voices.
-all have one of a pre-compiled list of I would guess four or five life-stories (ok guys, there’s “I’ve always sung, even as a kid, I would just sing!”, or “well my dad left home when I was five,”, or, everyone’s favorite “I spent my childhood going through my parents’ (insert decent artist you have no interest in) records”-what’s it gonna be?).
-all have zero writing or instrumental capability (the ones who do are quickly removed when the novelty of talent wears out).
-and, not forgetting the most crucial ingredient, all have an inexplicably very high opinion of themselves and no personality. (any with personalities are also promptly dealt with).
you can probably get why I don’t so much like the show. It upsets me-one, because I have to watch songs written my real musicians with passion and talent and personality become irreversibly tainted, along with the charts of the era which I will have to take responsibility for having grown up in at some stage, and two, because I genuinely feel sorry for the contestants. The poor unfortunate souls who win are then promptly chucked out into the charts to a fan base of grannies with no desire to actually buy records and teenagers with attention spans so tiny that they have already become disinterested with you by the time you’ve released your painfully cheesy and irritating debut single (complete with corny music video montage sensitively depicting the emotional roller-coaster of a time you spent on No-Longer-Proud-To-Be-American Idol, of course) and the harsh realization that their good, strong, unoriginal voices do not equate talent and will not provide them with a long standing, rewarding career in the big wide world outside the studio where the critics aren’t followed around by a sweet little woman with something nice to say to make you feel better. But America has bought it. Hook, line, & sinker my country falls season after season for the idea that this time some real talent is gonna be unearthed. And I can do little more that look on with disappointment and disapproval, much like one watches a close friend repeatedly go back to a violent relationship. Actually, no, it’s more like watching someone you no longer wish to be associated with set fire to ten dollars then run into a wall repeatedly before looking ever so slightly disillusioned, strolling off, then returning twenty minutes later with a vague smile and lobotomized look of interest to repeat the process. Please, America, just give up and let the idols find you. Please.
jo
xxx
It was a good idea. It’s undeniably difficult to get seen in the music industry. Hundreds of awesome, talented artists a year probably decide to go for something less risky or give up and take that office job after their last chance demo was to no avail, it was a good idea. So what happened? I suspect that, as with so many other things, the U.S. government for example, something which was potentially an immensely powerful force for good ended up in the wrong hands and was, therefore, turned into something which could dilute the patriotism of a senator. To get to the crux of why I have such an issue with the show, it would serve, I think, to inform you of my finely tuned methods for seeking out music which will influence my life in a positive way:-
-it is absolutely indisputable that the voice must be unique. Forgettable voices, voices that fit into a genre, & voices that you wouldn’t say ‘oh my god what is that voice doing on this cruise ship stage?’ to are not going to narrate inspirational lyrics.
-the artist has got to have a huge amount of character, and an interesting personality and life story.
-the lyrics are central; if I can’t hear/relate to/believe that there is integrity behind the lyrics, the music is pretty much invalid.
-as a direct result, genres such as screamo are more or less ruled out, along with cabaret-type clichéd lyrics (often identified by use of the word ‘babe’/’baby’).
-albums with sleeves that don’t say “all songs written by (artist’s name) except track five which is a phenomenally well done cover or written with someone the artist feels a very strong musical affinity with.” are immediately put back on shelf, occasionally accompanied by a small look of disappointment.
-the only artists not subject to the above rule are those which either not only fit point one but exceed it to the degree of ridiculousness (e.g. Barbra Streisand), or are so phenomenal at what they do in every other area that whether they can write or not is irrelevant (e.g. Madonna).
…
Now, considering that American Idol has been created to actually breed ‘artists’ who:-
-all have good, very (often actually to the point where they are barely distinguishable from eachother) forgettable voices.
-all have one of a pre-compiled list of I would guess four or five life-stories (ok guys, there’s “I’ve always sung, even as a kid, I would just sing!”, or “well my dad left home when I was five,”, or, everyone’s favorite “I spent my childhood going through my parents’ (insert decent artist you have no interest in) records”-what’s it gonna be?).
-all have zero writing or instrumental capability (the ones who do are quickly removed when the novelty of talent wears out).
-and, not forgetting the most crucial ingredient, all have an inexplicably very high opinion of themselves and no personality. (any with personalities are also promptly dealt with).
you can probably get why I don’t so much like the show. It upsets me-one, because I have to watch songs written my real musicians with passion and talent and personality become irreversibly tainted, along with the charts of the era which I will have to take responsibility for having grown up in at some stage, and two, because I genuinely feel sorry for the contestants. The poor unfortunate souls who win are then promptly chucked out into the charts to a fan base of grannies with no desire to actually buy records and teenagers with attention spans so tiny that they have already become disinterested with you by the time you’ve released your painfully cheesy and irritating debut single (complete with corny music video montage sensitively depicting the emotional roller-coaster of a time you spent on No-Longer-Proud-To-Be-American Idol, of course) and the harsh realization that their good, strong, unoriginal voices do not equate talent and will not provide them with a long standing, rewarding career in the big wide world outside the studio where the critics aren’t followed around by a sweet little woman with something nice to say to make you feel better. But America has bought it. Hook, line, & sinker my country falls season after season for the idea that this time some real talent is gonna be unearthed. And I can do little more that look on with disappointment and disapproval, much like one watches a close friend repeatedly go back to a violent relationship. Actually, no, it’s more like watching someone you no longer wish to be associated with set fire to ten dollars then run into a wall repeatedly before looking ever so slightly disillusioned, strolling off, then returning twenty minutes later with a vague smile and lobotomized look of interest to repeat the process. Please, America, just give up and let the idols find you. Please.
jo
xxx
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