Stan Uncapher may as well have written this review; that's how I choose to read it.
But Zac, is there any personal epoch you share nostalgia for alongside the rest of humanity, though? And what conversation are you being made to take part in at gunpoint?
The conversation is something like "the history of thought". Anyone who knows me could probably guess that I'm just irritated because I feel that I'm expected to treat postmodernism as though it's explanatory of something.
I think I might not be smart enough to go to grad school. Or... something. I think it might be the case that I've got a big problem.
Here's part of a paragraph I wrote on nostalgia a few years back: For many of the writers of this generation,1 the desire to revisit the pre-passé era becomes such a strong one that it manifests itself literarily. The same could likely be said for most generations. The passé often goes hand-in-hand with adulthood, so the tendency is to concentrate on the era before adulthood. This, in turn, leads to a nostalgic reexamining of the past. How far back this examination may go is dependent upon the person, naturally, but a truly embraceable nostalgia presupposes a fully fleshed consciousness, which disallows much of early childhood. An examination of one's childhood would not be nostalgic undertaking so much as it would be an exhumation of what one remembers what passed for wonderment. The child’s inchoate brain (typically) does not disabuse the child of magical notions, and it is not tasked to call upon logic or deal with libido. This narrows the opening of the nostalgia window to little more than a sliver of a life. What is left
( ... )
I think I always look back on "the bad times" as good, like I pretend I was happy when I actually wasn't. I think it's just the nostalgia that deludes me into thinking I was happy.
I can already tell I'll look back on college as a happy time, by virtue of the fact that it'll be in the past by then.
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But Zac, is there any personal epoch you share nostalgia for alongside the rest of humanity, though? And what conversation are you being made to take part in at gunpoint?
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I think I might not be smart enough to go to grad school. Or... something. I think it might be the case that I've got a big problem.
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I think it's more likely you just don't want to do what it takes to stay in grad school to go to grad school.
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For many of the writers of this generation,1 the desire to revisit the pre-passé era becomes such a strong one that it manifests itself literarily. The same could likely be said for most generations. The passé often goes hand-in-hand with adulthood, so the tendency is to concentrate on the era before adulthood. This, in turn, leads to a nostalgic reexamining of the past. How far back this examination may go is dependent upon the person, naturally, but a truly embraceable nostalgia presupposes a fully fleshed consciousness, which disallows much of early childhood. An examination of one's childhood would not be nostalgic undertaking so much as it would be an exhumation of what one remembers what passed for wonderment. The child’s inchoate brain (typically) does not disabuse the child of magical notions, and it is not tasked to call upon logic or deal with libido. This narrows the opening of the nostalgia window to little more than a sliver of a life. What is left ( ... )
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I can already tell I'll look back on college as a happy time, by virtue of the fact that it'll be in the past by then.
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I really don't understand people who are apologists for inherited wealth.
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