Yea Or Nay

The doors to all sins are opened by Pride as one is pushed through by Desire.

How I'm To Be Kicked Out Of The English Department

The scene will of course be Ethnic and Minority Literature. I’ll be sitting in class studying a portrait shot of the Chinese-American author we’re currently reading. Dub Hesser will say “Isn’t this a great, swirling, mystical representation of the Chinese struggle of keeping the traditions of old and facing this new America? Wow. Huh. Striking. What do you think, Matt?”

From the front of the room, I will appear engrossed in the handout.

“Matt?”

I will then furrow my brow at the picture contemplatively, and raise my hand without glancing up. Hessbomb will think “Wow, so engaged in the text, he didn’t even hear his name called but boy oh boy I’m sure whatever he’s got to say is going to be spectacular!”

At which point, after being called on, I will ask “Do Chinese people have eyelashes?”

Adventures With the Romantics

When discussing Byron, one must deal with seductive scenes. The man was a shameless womanizer, and it comes through clear as day in his poetry, usually with hilarious results. In attempting to relate a Byronic seducer to modern times, ol’ Ronny McFargo suggested it to be like saying “Hey baby, I play football for the Vandals [eyebrows up and down with that boink boink noise].”

This was obviously aimed at J., who does indeed play ball for our mighty Vandals. He took it with a humble grin and shake of the head. I like J.

Sniveling Pomp Boy, however, is another story. His response: “Not that that’d get you anywhere,” a bit louder than he apparently intended, as he quickly looked to J. and retracted with “Just kidding.”

But J., the incarnation of Vandal Pride and abused jocks everywhere was not to be appeased by this slippery attempt. He picked up the desk/chair next to him which still contained a flustered grad student, and swung the mass of steel and flesh in an arc straight on top of Sniveling Pomp Boy. As he writhed like a worm on the earth tone carpet, J. picked him up into the air and snapped him in two with a satisfying CRACK.

“IT IS KNOWN TO J. THAT THE FOOTBALL TEAM SUCKETH HARD. BUT HE IS A RARE FORM, ONE WHO IS IN THIS WORLD BOTH AN IDAHOAN ATHLETE AND SOMETHING MORE!!!” he roared, shattering the annoying fluorescent lights in TLC.

He then disposed of the remaining halves of Sniveling Pomp Boy by hurling them through the wall to the ground below, giving our room two much needed windows, and took his seat after slugging a Gatorade and reciting a few lines from Paradise Lost.

An Oracle as to Ground Beef

Better to cook it and keep it than to keep it, uncooked.

Thank U, You of I

A UI student took it upon herself to send out a Facebook message last week informing us how to vote. Not "how" as in, register, go to the fairgrounds, vote, but, well, here's the message:


Tomorrow is election day. Please remember to vote tomorrow, as there are several important issues that will be decided on BY YOU. If you are unfamiliar with these measures, they are as follows:

Ballot Questions:
Proposition 1 (makes education funding a priority -- penny tax sized increase in school budgets) --YES
Proposition 2 (pay developers and land owners, end planning and zoning) --NO
HJR2 (bans civil unions, hospital visitation etc.. and re-defines marriage) --- NO
Advisory Vote on Property Tax Shift (your sales tax pays for special interest property tax cuts) -- NO
Ten Commandments Back in City Park (will bring Fred Phelps back with HIS monument!) -- NO

Ahoy

New pictures be up.

A Companion Piece To Gibbs's Latest

This morning I mentioned to Asher that my Minority Lit class consisted of 90% student led “discussion,” which always boils down to “Ok, can we get into groups and talk about these incredibly bland questions that I’ve come up with? Great.” This was at about 7:45 which left me ample time to get to campus five minutes before class started, but right then I realized that I never wanted to go to that class ever again. I’m going to be hearing the opinions of my peers for the rest of my life; while I’m in college, I want to hear a professor’s thoughts. So I stayed home and read Byron.

I’d kill for a delicious, buttered gender roll.

I Carved A Punkin'

Check It

If you haven't had the pleasure of visiting Greg's blog, do it now. The man is spending the next five months in Antarctica and has great pictures and stories of what seems like another planet.

I Have A Sneaking Suspicion

That my 79% score on our Ethnic and Minority Lit midterm essays had a lot to do with me not so subtly calling most of it crap. Granted, these were not the well-crafted pieces that I would like to take credit for, which is why you didn’t see them posted here, but I really think that if I’d just written five essays on how tough Jewish immigrants had it and said only complimentary things about their writing, I could’ve knocked out an A without having read half the material. But bitterness prevailed, and I just couldn’t let the opportunity to attack this rubbish pass me by, and lo, my 79%.

We Love Our Clichés

Above Reproach

“I feel the darkness growing stronger as you cram light down my throat.”

When asked about these lyrics in an interview, Dave Bazan said that “the force and the arrogance or whatever with which Christians wield their Christianity--actually furthers the cause they’re supposedly fighting against [and] doing harm to the concept of who Christ is.” The next line of the song follows:
“How does that work out for you in your holy quest to be above reproach?”

I’ve always loved this line, the dig at one of the most widely thrown about phrases in modern Christendom, and one that clatters against the lives of the apostles, disciples, Moses, David, and Christ. “Above reproach” has taken on this meaning of being blameless in the eyes of everyone, including non-believers. Peter explicitly says that they’ll malign us because of our faith and the ensuing lifestyle. The Savior of the world was accused regularly of being a drunkard, demon-possessed, and a liar. Especially in light of all the claims He made, He could possibly be the most reproachable person in history.

It’s in God’s Hands Now

Because before it wasn’t, right? “Lord, I now give this problem over to your control, now you can fiddle with it.”

God Helps Those Who Help Themselves

Typically, God will more than likely pick the guy that’s slouching in the corner avoiding His gaze, drag him to his feet and use him to save Ninevah. The Lord doesn’t seem to operate like a CEO, promoting his servants on the basis of how well they pull themselves up the ladder by their own bootstraps. Noah was a boozehound whom God chose to repopulate the world. I’m well aware that merely the presence of an action in the Bible doesn’t justify my imitation of it. More often than not, these examples of folly are specifically there for us to avoid slipping on the same spot. But looking at the history of “who God has helped” doesn’t seem to back up this phrase. The big issue here is largely the order of action that it implies. FIRST I’ll help myself THEN God will help me. Once I get going (on my own), God can kind of push me along. ‘Fraid not.

Interview w/David of Pedro the Lion

For Jay

Dear Dr. Science,
How come when you're riding a ten speed bicycle, when you're not pedaling the bike makes a clicking noise?


Mike, let's get this straight from the starting gate. I don't ride bicycles. Ever since I realized how ergonomically efficient the bicycle is, I knew that I would be doing a disservice to our petrochemical and nuclear energy industries by participating in this form of mechanical subversion. If you could build a bicycle that somehow consumed gasoline or uranium, well, maybe I could be persuaded to hop on, but until that time I'll either ride in an automobile or stay put, thank you. To answer your question, that little clicking noise is a gauge put on your bike by the Communists who made it. It's counting off all the lost oil revenue, the money not going into American coffers because you chose to ride a Communist produced instrument of subversion. If that makes you feel a bit guilty as you ride, relax, it should.

If Only...

“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, my name is Scott and I’ll be your flight attendant today on our flight to Salt Lake City. The cabin is being pressurized for your comfort. Should there be a loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will fall from the overhead compartments. Please secure your own mask before assisting others. Even though the bag doesn’t inflate, there is oxy-“

“Scott?”

“gen… flowing…um, yes?”

“Scott, is it at all possible for snakes to drop out of the overhead compartment instead of oxygen masks? Poisonous snakes?”

“I..- no…it’s not.”

20/20

The Scene: A group of 18-25 year-olds, engaged in relatively intellectual discussion. College classroom perhaps. An opinion is presented. There is general disagreement amongst the participants. Looking for a way out, the opinionated claims something along the lines of “Well you’re just looking at it through your worldview lens, your paradigm.”

This seems to be the favored way of disregarding an opinion we don’t like in academic settings, and armed with a bandolier of trite expressions we proceed to show how another’s thoughts are merely the product of the culture they are surrounded by. I find it interesting that this tactic is used to trivialize someone’s opinion in an age where the world places so much importance on individuals’ feelings. It’s commonly believed that just because there’s a thought in your head that it’s worth hearing about.

The popular view seems to be to rid oneself of any prejudicial paradigm and look at everything “objectively,” without the hindrance of those pesky lenses. Rubbish I say. Why would we attempt something like this, even if it were possible? Hans-Georg Gadamer states that it’s nonsense to even entertain the idea that you can achieve some kind of clean slate mentality when looking at literature, that your reading will always be affected to some degree by your culture.

So if we can’t get to a clean slate, what’s another option? Acquire as many pairs of lenses as possible. Be able to look at a text as though you grew up under Marxist thought, or during the Impressionist movement. Hand in hand with that is the necessity for discernment, when to use what lens. This to me is similar to Samuel Johnson’s idea of suspension of disbelief in the theatre. It’s not that you are totally sold on the idea of Formalism as a valid worldview, but you recognize that the most enjoyment/benefit will come from donning those glasses in this situation. We “suspend” our default lenses when we know that they won’t reveal as much as another.

Playing a little more with the analogy of lenses, what are they designed for? Improving one’s vision. Why would we try to strip ourselves of something that by its nature is designed to better our sight? We would be blinding ourselves. Granted, not every lens is good for every scenario. We shouldn’t try to study the stars with a microscope, even though it’s a lens. And we don’t want to use the wrong prescription for our close readings. But I’ve heard it said before that the possibility of misuse is poor excuse for not utilizing a tool.

Practically, I don’t think that you need to have an intimate knowledge of every lens under the sun. And likewise, some lenses are weightier in authority than others. But that’s for you to decide, because I’m heading to bed.

Today's Irony

Many of you know that I don't get poetry. I can't read it, I don't like it, and I'm taking a class in the Romantics to try to learn how.

That being said, let me direct your attention to the right of this blog, where I have inadvertently done something poetic at least in form. Take a look at the list of folks under 'Noteables.' A six word line, then a three, a one (composed of three characters), then three, and ending with six. Now how about that?

On another note, I saw a sticker on a car while riding my bike back from class that read, in Gothic font, "God is Fear." I didn't have a chance to check out the surrounding stickers that would have given me proper sticker/ideology context (since I'm SOOOO fast), so I'm left wondering if that's meant to have a negative slant. Odds are, this fellow or gal who so boldly displayed their theological views via adhesive vinyl would tell me something along the lines of religion being used as a scare tactic to keep a brother down. Whatevs.

I’m also very disappointed in all four of you who read this and haven’t pointed out to me that Noteables is misspelled. But that's also a bit ironic that I started this post to show some higher use of the language, right under something that spellcheck would pick up. The comedy that is life. I’ll fix it right now.

Fire Survivor