I've been exiled the past few weeks, battling the thesis and generally forgetting to enjoy life. Walking across campus today with Fran Healy crooning in my ears and a spring breeze swirling past reminded me just how good it is to be here, awake, alive. I'm now at work in Schoenberg Hall's music library, where the distant voices of a choir rehearsal
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And omg, you're alive. Long time no speak.
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No one's last words are ironic.
Hah, I like that. I'll have to remember that one, as my dislike for who-can-be-more-detached-and-sarcastic pissing contests sharpens...
"It's kind of like saying, 'Hey, that puppy is cute!' And then dissecting the puppy to see what makes it so cute."
There's certainly something to be said for that. The bad academics are those who continue rooting around in the puppy's entrails for even the slightest shred of evidence to support their arguments that it was actually not a puppy, but a kitten.
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Hah, I like that. I'll have to remember that one, as my dislike for who-can-be-more-detached-and-sarcastic pissing contests sharpens...
I remember you ranting a bit about this a while back. Are you seeing a lot of this at school or in things you've been reading lately? Or both?
The bad academics are those who continue rooting around in the puppy's entrails for even the slightest shred of evidence to support their arguments that it was actually not a puppy, but a kitten.
True enough, but the point was that you shouldn't have to kill the puppy in the first place, much less dissect it to understand its value. Can't see the forest for the trees and all that.
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I remember you ranting a bit about this a while back. Are you seeing a lot of this at school or in things you've been reading lately? Or both?
I guess both. It seems like an attitude that crops up in things I've read, and in people I know... I've had people apologize to me for, y'know, just talking to me about feeling bad about something, and I get kind of irritated. Not with them, but with social pressures that make them feel bad about taking their feelings seriously. Isn't that what friends are for? Why is it so bad to be affected by something? Why do we have to denigrate ourselves for feeling things? I think it's really counterproductive ( ... )
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I recently saw American Beauty again for the first time since theatrical release. I'd forgotten this fantastic scene where Annette Bening's character closes the blinds of the house she's failed to sell and cries in frustration. Then she slaps herself until she stops crying, calling herself a weak baby and shrieking, "Shut up. Shut up! Shut up!" She pulls herself together, straightens up, and walks calmly out of the room, all business again. Really disturbing ( ... )
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