Sunday, December 26, 2010

"Girly"-Men and "Manly"-Girls

The other day I found myself watching How To Train Your Dragon and though I entered the movie a bit late, I soon began to notice something odd yet familiar about the plot - it featured an effeminate and bumbling lead male who captures the jealous eye of a hyper masculine lead female, who is portrayed in every scene trying to prove just how tough she really is. My mind ran to other films where I've seen this: Ratatouille, Kung Fu Panda, The Lion King, Toy Story 2... A good number surely for off the top of my head I thought, but is there more to this pattern?

I'll be the first to admit that my film repertoire is lacking and so I can't really provide a good sampling of movies to examine. Something that is immediately noticeable though about the group presented is that they are all animated children's movies (a.k.a rated G) although they are made by different companies. Interestingly enough live action films with this same theme don't appear as readily to me as the animated one's do. Finally on another note my formal knowledge of feminist theory is narrow, so bare with me on that. Given these disclaimers I'd encourage you to respond with films of all varieties that reinforce or negate this theme.

So what's the problem here exactly? Well at first glance there isn't a problem per se, but there is a mighty obvious story-line that keeps popping up. The audience is introduced to the male protagonist and he's not really what we've come to expect out of a hero. He's usually clumsy, awkward, and in some cases has trouble proving his worth as a son to a widowed father figure. Enter the female lead; she's spunky, great at whatever it is that she does, and doesn't take flack from anyone. She looks down on the "girly" protagonist and is comfortable in her position of power. All of that soon changes when the awkward male lead finds a way to finally be good at something, at which point the female becomes jealous and overly competitive. He usually saves the day with a bit of her help and in the end she always falls in love with him, resigning herself to be tough but sensitive chick who can be found at the side of her newly admirable boy.

All of that is fine and some (including myself) would even say it's progress. At least were not showing women to be these subtle creatures who are in constant need of saving (*see most old children's films for reference), but there's still something funky with this new formula. I can't help but parallel it to second-wave feminism, which advocate for equal rights in the most literal sense of it. It was their belief that women should elevate their status as citizens to that of men (as opposed to 3rd-wave feminism, which argues that woman's worth should not be placed in comparison to that of a man's). With it's decline in the 1980's I think the trend can be well pictured via that then ever-present fashion fopa: the shoulder pads. Because you know, women who want to be taken seriously should just imitate men...

Well it looks like this movie genre is a bit behind critical theory and I think that the never changing reality of it, but here's my go at what it was that really got to me while watching How To Train Your Dragon. Although the female lead is shown in a position of empowerment, we're still relying to heavily on those same gender binaries. It's either one or the other and some how in the end the characters manage to fall back to those comfortable gendered roles. This is a critique however without a solution, because I'm not a writer or a story-teller. I couldn't tell you what would have been a better plot, just what makes me uneasy about the current one.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Reflections on Israel

Well I recently was asked to talk about Israel to my parent's congregation while I was back home for Thanksgiving break and the whole situation felt a little uncomfortable for me. I hadn't been to synagouge in a long time so having to stand up in front of over a hundred temple-goers was not in my vocabulary of ideal ways to spend a Friday night. Further, I've only been to Israel once and feel no more "connected" to it than, well I say this with hesitance, but than your average Jew would. Still, the whole ordeal was important to my parents and so in order to appease I drafted up something to say on the topic of a single moment from our Birthright trip there that had a lasting affect on us... (Warning! Like most things I write, this too comes off as unbelievably corny. Deal with it!)

Growing up having attended Hebrew school, probably just like many of you, my teacher’s would constantly be reminding us that one day we would visit Eretz Yisrael, "the land of milk and honey." It sounded pretty magical to a third grader, but as the years went on and as I slowly ex-communicated myself more and more from Judaism, my dreams of one day visiting Israel subsequently also faded - to the point where if someone had asked me, would you like to take a free trip to Israel? I would have said “no” just out of principle.

Well, things changed in college. I was no longer living in boca raton, a city which tricked me thinking that the world’s Jewish population was more like 30% rather than the meager .01% that it actually is. For the first time in my life being Jewish was something unusual and for the first time I wasn’t forced to stay at home on Friday nights for Shabbat dinner instead of going out. Sound familiar? But despite this newly found independence I missed the traditions and I soon became active in our school’s Hillel - where I was told about birthright and how to sign up.

Well that first summer I found myself on a plane across the world with my sister. So thinking about one of the most memorable moments from my trip, my mind automatically drifts to our visit to the Kotel, the last standing wall from the second holy temple. For whatever reason growing up, whenever I pictured Israel that iconic image of the Kotel would appear in my mind. And you what they say about some places, how they don’t live up to your expectations? Well this experience definitely went above and beyond what I thought it would be. Standing in front of the wall I felt the weight of history upon my shoulders, like thousands of crying voices barring down upon me. I fell apart, it was the closest thing to a “spiritual” experience that I've ever had. But for me personally it wasn’t the divine that gave this location its power, instead it came from humankind. I stood there in that spot which has been so important to so many people’s for so long, it was hard not to feel the force of it.

There at the kotel I saw the past, present, and future of Israel before me. The religiosity, I stood with sobbing women all reaching to touch the small portion of the wall that we were allotted to stand before in prayer; while the men stretched out in their large section. Behind me were Israeli soldiers my brothers and sisters, my age, awkwardly sporting guns. On the other side of the wall which we stood before were arabs also my brothers and sisters. And surrounding us all, on the outside looking in, were tourists from around the world.

And that’s the way I see Israel. A beautiful country, with the collective energy and spirit of a race’s - a human races - love concentrated into a small piece of land. Israel, you kind of remind me of what my parent’s would always tell me in times of tension, “we are so hard on you only because we love you so much, only because we expect more from you.”

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Re-Discoveries 1

The wind was blowing really hard and I struggled with my bicycle against it as if having to fight it off. "Man against the elements, ain't it the truth!" I thought. Well a moment later I looked down and saw a squirrel mid-battle with a bush and re-discovered that we're not so different after all. --

I was sitting by the bay and thoughts flooded into my mind, despite the purpose of the journey having been to actually pour those thoughts into the water. But clearing my mind has never been one my strong points and so I stood looking down at the bay whose inhabitants were looking back up at me... The water was particularly clear that day and so I saw sea grass blowing as the waves gently pushed up against the shore; the sand rhythmically swaying in tune with the motion of this wholly different world I was witnessing below me. I thought, "Everything moves underwater," it's always in flux. Then I looked up and felt the sun on my cheek. As I spun around to check that my unlocked bike was still there (after all, one stolen bike is one too many!) I saw the palm trees nod in the direction of the wind, the tall grass following in suit and re-discovered that we're not so different after all. --

Friday, November 19, 2010

Details 1

Something that always puts a smile on my face is seeing other people walking and smiling to themselves.
Oh is it brilliant!

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Pornography

The following is an entry that I never posted over the summer, here it is for you now:

Main Entry: por·nog·ra·phy
Pronunciation: \-fē\
Function: noun
Etymology: Greek pornographos, adjective, writing about prostitutes, from pornē prostitute + graphein to write; akin to Greek pernanai to sell, poros journey —
Date: 1858

1 : the depiction of erotic behavior (as in pictures or writing) intended to cause sexual excitement
2 : material (as books or a photograph) that depicts erotic behavior and is intended to cause sexual excitement
3 : the depiction of acts in a sensational manner so as to arouse a quick intense emotional reaction

There are perks to having attended a college where the students have continuously voted down the instillation of cable hookups on campus, such as the inability to channel surf. I watch TV, but because I have to do so online I only watch shows that are important to me and follow consistently. The problem is my parent's have cable and since returning home for the summer my propensity towards mindless station flipping has increased by 100%, (which also means that my IQ has also gone down by about 100 points too).

While mindlessly flipping through the stations it's happened that I've settled on a show called "The Hills" (feel free to judge), it's a show about nothing really, just some privileged people's drama. Well, while walking by my dad stopped short in the doorway, paused and exclaimed "This shit is worse than pornography! At least with porno you know what you're watching!" He then promptly walked away and I was left feeling dirty and disgusted with myself; he was right. I'm not defending porn here, I could have a separate diatribe on the need for feminist porn, but what's of importance here is that we are all being exposed to the same sort of misogyny in disguise!

These television producers appeal to our natural voyeuristic tendencies and using them to exploit women, (isn't it so often that voyeurism is directed towards women in particular?) In these shows women are portrayed as vapid, petty, Barbie-like beings - and you know the worst part? These shows are marketed towards women! They are not even committing these myths about "the female" to men... "ohh and ahh at the female, the mysterious other, how different she is than me!" They are dispelling these troubling falsities about women to women.

'll leave you with this question, how are we ever going to be able to transcend gender when this anti-feminist propaganda has permeated so much into our culture that we don't even realize that the show we are watching on cable T.V at 8:00 p.m on a Monday night, is actually pornography?

Monday, November 15, 2010

A Blog About Nothing

There is always something. We can't project nothingness, consciousness is always presupposed, always negating that very negative we wish to affirm! Affirmation is something.

I feel nauseous, which isn't always a bad feeling because it reminds me of certain things I have a tendency to forget when I'm swept up the daily hustle of routine and monotony, namely that I exist in a situation. (It's so easy to forget about these things!) It also reminds me of that which I am too often aware off, the future. I have only anxiety with regards to the future. I find myself breaking in the present only to smirk at my successful passage through time - a future conquered!

I wish I could remember more days of my life.
I wish I could do so and keep them inside.
These are things to work on.
Work, the measure of movement!

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Intimacy

"Why must we have bodies?"

Embodiment is a nasty business, there's no way around it. We're beautifully complex machines, but we also fall apart and are subject to various grossities and pains - basically, there's never any dignity in death, messy always messy. We are the sorts of beings who want to be more than what we are; we want the experience of being to transcend being itself! But our existence entails an existent and we can't help but stay subject to those physical whims. And honestly having a body can be fun. There are certain moments in pleasure (like feeling the sun on your skin) or even pain (like ritual fasting) that although we are reaffirming our being chained to a body, we somehow also feel like we are exactly as we should be; more aware, more alive.

I feel like intimacy is a great example of this tango between body and spirit (by spirit I mean the part of us that feels like we are more than our body). Generally speaking one possesses emotional intimacy and physical intimacy. The dance between the two is a delicate process, with one subsuming the other frequently, what Sartre terms "bad faith." Yet, what is so moving about intimacy itself is not just the fact that it occurs on both phenomenal and nuemenal realms, but that it requires the presence of an other. It is as if somehow through the mediation of another person who appears to me as the absolute mystery that I can still confide and find comfort in, that I am finally wholly myself - in spirit and in body

So, paradoxically we must have bodies so that we can reach beyond ourselves. To discover what is otherwise in a moment of alterity and have it ground us in being in return.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Don't be Ashamed

A man in business suit carrying the first Harry Potter book makes me happy.
Here are the thoughts:
  1. He looks to be around thirty years old max, which means that when Harry Potter came out he was in high school - not too old to read the books with everyone else. Why didn't he?
  2. I wonder how he's enjoying the book.
  3. He just ordered espresso, he is a serious man.
  4. He put whipped cream on his espresso! Who does that, who is this mystery person?!

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Patterns

Patterns, does anyone take solace in them?

It seems like they just invoke a feeling of a loss of authorship over one's destiny. It takes the magic away from situations that should be unique because they are, but the human mind is designed to detect patterns and so I think we can't help but to notice them. This reminds me somewhat of Aristotle's discussion of relation in his Categories; relatives appear as true correlatives in the world, whereas relations amongst things are derived extra-linguistically via appropriating these two seemingly non-related things. For example when I speak about a head I couldn't expect you to know whose head I mean, yet often relations of this sort are established simply through language. Patterns also seem to be utilizing the category of relation with regards to situational qualities; a memory is never fully present in, well... the present, but there's an added element of what one picks out in a varying situation that recreates that familiar feeling of déjà vu.

Does this mean that what I might perceive to haunting patterns, are actually creations of my representation of certain events within my own mind and thus actually have no basis in reality? Sounds great to me, saves one the trouble of worrying that each experience isn't unique, but a question still remains as to why we feel compelled to form these seemingly unnecessary relations in the first place. Is it all self-inflicted or is there a scientific explanation for the sensation of déjà vu?

Scientific speculations aren't really my specialty (two plus points for alliteration!), but I'll give it a go anyway. Here we go - train of thought style. Patterns, order, meaning, we need to find meaning, but we find a lack of meaning in patterns, things lose their specialness, we want things to be special, do we want things to be special? Yes, everyone wants to be special, that's why we read books and watch T.V, save that for another post Leila, what is déjà vu? it's feeling like you've done something before, we've done a lot of things before, string theory, suspended time, time, ahhh, patterns, don't make the same mistakes twice, personal life, mathematics, patterns are real, how could you ignore that? what about that golden ratio thing, that stuffs crazy, those are patterns, the natural has patterns, life doesn't have patterns, distinction between existents and existence, I've gotten nowhere, I'm just writing this way because I'd like to go to sleep now and this takes less effort than a well thought out blog. Good night! Woah, déjà vu....

Trivia Time!
There's a pattern located within this post, can you figure it out?


Thursday, October 14, 2010

Ask a Philosopher!

I don't think I have the right to call myself a philosopher yet (I'm maybe a degree away), but for the point of kitsch let's just say that I am. "Ask a Philosopher!" was an idea that my house mate of 3 years came up with and basically it's a fun experiment in testing my abilities to bullshit. The impetus came when one late night studying at a coffee shop she exclaimed that her feet were always cold, to which I replied that it's because she has poor circulation. Now I have no idea if that's correct or not, but the point is that it sounded reasonable. When she went on to question if her circulation issues will affect her health in the long run, I confidently responded "no, it's just something about yourself to be aware of." At which point we both laughed because the utter bullshitty-ness (Hey, don't judge! Philosophers are allowed to make up words alright?) of that statement was so obvious. So we recalled some old Youtube videos we would watch when struggling in our astronomy course: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdI1aDjWLlY Hence nanananananananananana "ask a philosopher!" was born.

My dear non-existent readers, this is where you would theoretically come in (I mean that's if you actually existed). If you have any and I mean any questions that you'd like me to answer, go ahead and ask them. I may do so in the form of a video or a blog - who knows! Please give me something to distract myself from my thesis writing misery? Thanks!


Also,
Does my ability to procrastinate have an end?! Note the new title bar as evidence...
Thesis, I will write you darnnit.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

"Welcome to the Human Race"

A human being is a creature who can look at the sunrises and sunsets and just say, "wow."

Friday, October 8, 2010

Amor Fati!

There are two sorts of freedoms: existential and physical. (Okay it's possible there are more, less, or none... let me know in the comments your thoughts!) The latter is easier to define because I take it to be freedom as we usually conceive of it, the ability to manifest a particular subjective will. Existential freedom on the other hand though it appears more abstract, may represent the simple possibility of a first freedom: the ability to negate one's freedom. I wouldn't call it a quietiude, but maybe an 'understanding' is the better descriptor here.

So there's this lovely book called "Fatelessness" by Kertész, which explores what it means to live without fate through the lens of Georg, a teenage Hungarian boy who finds himself in Auschwitz. Georg maintains a very “matter of fact” disposition despite all of the horrors that he witnesses. He accepts his situation in the camps, and without trying to find meaning in it, he finds happiness. “Naturally” they were given numbers because it was more efficient; “naturally” the fittest were sent to this line and the weaker to the other, “naturally” he would choose to work and would want to take pride in that work. He was young and accepted whatever life threw at him. Even Auschwitz became boring for him though, despite the horror and the uncertainty, Georg felt boredom. Boredom signifies a resignation into one’s situation. It means that there is no excitement whether terrible or great; what an impossible situation, but true!

In an interview when asked about experiencing moments of happiness in the concentration camp, Kertész replies that “You cannot imagine what it's like to be allowed to lie in the camp's hospital, or to have a ten minute break from indescribable labor. To be very close to death is also a kind of happiness. Just surviving becomes the greatest freedom of all.” In the concentration camp Georg encounters "the Muselmans", those who should be dead but keep living. There is something about just looking at these people that seems to drain the life force out him. The largest transformation that Georg underwent was his change into a Muselman and it occurred without much of his own notice. While in this state he was numb to the world around him and became focused on only his own continued existence. The experience of almost dying left Georg with happiness and also the desire for nothing more than to continue living in the “beautiful concentration camp.”Georg’s final transformation occurs after he is liberated from the camp. Physically he is barely recognizable to himself. While trying to go back to his home, people questioned Georg about what had happened to him and what horrors he had witnessed in the camps, to which Georg replies that “in a concentration camp they were natural" and upon further reflection Georg concludes that the next instance he is asked about his time in the camp he will speak about “the happiness of the concentration camps.”

Nietzsche spoke of the world’s absurdity in a distinct way. According to him human beings are primarily concerned in doing what is in the best interest to protect the species. Acts of evil are particular to humanity because we have come to believe that those horrible things lend to the preservation of the species. Yet, humanity no longer needs to worry about its further propagation because it has no natural enemies, perhaps other than itself and here is the “comedy of existence;” we are constantly attempting to find meaning in things in which there is none to find. Nietzsche argues that we must abandon our “faith in life” and laugh at ourselves and our existence. He believes that the universe is random and chaotic the antithesis of machinery. What will “free” us from these matrices of purposes that we have created for ourselves is not just the mere acceptance of the absurd, but an embracement of it.

So getting to the point of this whole shpiel...............

Embracing absurdity or in other words, the harsh indifference of the universe towards us, is to “become who you are.” Amor Fati, one must love her fate; it is the acceptance of the world, of its imperfections as well as its beauty. One must love the world for what it is and for the life that you have had; this does not mean react with indifference or rather a defeatist attitude, because it is necessary that “human being attain satisfaction with themselves.” Yet, embracing reality is not easy for us. “Time itself is a circle,” and we must endure all that we have endured once more. The eternal reoccurrence is the making indifferent the potential and the actual; taking that which has taken place and that which has not taken place and making them indifferent to each other. We should accept and even embrace the eternal return and thus also the absurdity of existence.

Life is absurd. It is absolutely random and when we are born we are without a fate. We want our lives to mean something, to have all of the bad things that have happened to us to ultimately have a purpose, or at least have had them been ours. As was explicated by Nietzsche, life is so random and rare we have to create matrices of purpose in order to try and understand our own existence. We are stuck in an eternal return, which is hard to accept. When Georg was on the cusp of life, when he was a muselman, he underwent the transition from simply understanding his fate, to embracing it. We are born without fate and it is only when we are on the cusp of life that we are able to say “that was the fate that I had lived.”

Georg’s story is illuminating because it wasn’t a story about the Holocaust; rather it’s a story about our own lives as well. However, Georg is not a superior being in the sense of Nietzsche’s ubermench; rather, he embodies an anti-hypocritical existence. One lives ant-hypocritically when one gives up on false hopes and takes up who he really is. It is to be what one already is and has been. If one takes the concept of eternal return seriously then Georg is forever going to experience what he experienced in the camps like anyone else.

Auschwitz then can be looked at as the radical figure for what we experience every day. Auschwitz is oppression, it is a prison. There are various forces that will always oppress or imprison us. Gender, capitalism, or the patriarchy are all aspects which we live under and many believe to be inherently oppressive. Yet, we live our lives almost completely unaware of these intuitions because to us “that’s just life.” Much like who lived under Nazi Germany thought that was just his life; we too exist under the same, less radical mentality. Kertész has said that “nothing has happened since Auschwitz that could reverse or refute Auschwitz. In my writings the Holocaust could never be present in the past tense.” The Holocaust wasn’t an isolated event between the Germans and Jews, but rather as a greater picture of the human condition.

One of humankind’s greatest strengths and also weaknesses is our ability to live under suffering. Humanity is a resilient species; we are able to continue living when there is no biological reason for us to continue doing so. Humanity has endured so many wrongdoings for the sole reason that we are able to endure them. We cope by finding meaning in our suffering, “everything happens for a reason,” but is what we are doing just attaching a random purpose to these events and declaring that they are meaning? Would we be better off if we freed ourselves from the matrixes of purpose that we create? Kertész and Nietzsche both believe that humankind would do better for itself if it were to embrace the absurdity in life. We have to understand that life is random as it is precious and that it can be taken away just as quickly as it was given. Auschwitz exemplifies this; small choices that were made meant either life or death for Georg. Perhaps if more people started to view the world and their lives in this way we could spend more time enjoying the happy moments of life, understanding that they are gifts, rather than trying to make sense of the chaos around us. Maybe we can look towards the future and not the past.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Voyeurism

Being a first time renter there a lot of little things that you need to get used to. When to take out the trash, keeping track of the bills, making sure the lawn is cut short, and avoiding the gaze of a potential creeper - of course. Yes, the other night while I was talking on the phone, walking around my kitchen, I noticed an odd shape in the window. I head over to investigate, still chatting, and stare right back at two emotionless eyes for about 30 seconds before I casually walk away into my house mates room where I then begin to freak out. We dealt with and now make sure to close our blinds at night so as to avoid alluring any more peeping Toms, but this whole incident makes you wonder about what motivates the invasion of privacy in the first place.

Would you rather fly or have the ability to turn invisible?

A question as old as time itself. I was listening to a This American Life episode recently that dealt with this very question and surprisingly enough most people choose the latter as their initial response. Soon enough though they begin to reason their way through their choice - well, invisibility could entice me towards some creepy habits, they'll usually say. It's true, but the other question to ask here is, "would it be me?" Does everyone have the potential to degrade into peeping Toms? What is it that's within us that compels us to loose ourselves in others? Yes, a fetish is the traditional answer, but I don't think all cases of voyeurism are based upon it - there must be something else.

I think that it all goes back to our finitude and our struggle against it. We know that we're limited, in consciousness, in time, space, etc. There is only so much that an individual could possibly experience and there certainly one thing that she will never be able to, what it's like to be you. We'll never know what it's like to be anyone else, simple of a statement as this may be I think it's one that hits close to home for many of us. I mean, what are movies or books after all if not escapes into the lives of others? For those moments we may become more than what we just are. We want ghostly glimpses into other's lives simply because they're not ours, we want to experience the unattainable. It all goes back to those fleeting moments of immortality and our pursuit of them... I think.

Now I'm in pursuit of some sleep. G'night Blog.

p.s
I would choose the ability to fly. So much more fun.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

I Want to Believe

Magic's important. First, a clarification on the meaning of magic. It's a broad term for sure, I think it can range from traditional ideas about supernatural to a scientist trying to understand the universe. The point is that there's always going to be something we don't understand and it's what we do with that void in our knowledge key. We could ignore it, but that's not human! No, we're a curious species and we're beautiful because of that. We always search even if it's in vain. The thing is despite something that's inherent within us, magic is dying. Answers are killing our spirit.... I think. I'm not sure about this because I think it's up to you to keep it alive, to transform your reality. Magic sneaks up on you. When you're driving and listening to a good song and feel happy - you feel like there's more than what is. You ignore your everydayness, the work you have to get done so that you can live the life that seems logical for you to lead. It's all about believing that you can be more than what you are or that somehow things are more than what they seem. Reality isn't depressing, it's just that we often times get to experience the more 'magical' aspects about this world in which we live. [And also from a scientific perspective I heard that at some point our advancements in understand "life the universe and everything" will peak, at which point I think we'll see a rise in magicians.]

Well, by chance it happened that I showed the same magic trick to two people recently. The reactions were different. One treated it like a magic trick, the other like a puzzle. My house mate was very frazzled by his inability to figure out how I did the trick. He sat there for a long time trying to figure it out, eventually feeling bad I just told him how I did it. I wish I didn't, because he strikes me as someone who could use some magic in his life - even if it's something as trivial as seeing a card trick and smiling afterwards. I want to inject him with some wonder! The question now is how...

I digress. I'm not sure what my point is. Lately I've been trying to express abstractions and have just not had the attention span necessary to get those thoughts out verbally. I'm a bad writer/movie maker/communicator for that reason, it all goes back to feelings with me. I digress again. Um the point, the moral, I try to have a moral at the end of these things (how nicely they tie everything together, something about humanity yadayadayada).

Ok here we go, the motto of my college is to "live in ecstatic wonder," a great motto I think. Personally I need to start finding the magic in existence more often, if anything it'll be a pleasant distraction from the lack of future I have at the moment.

Yeah that's me 2 years ago, yeah it's a bad haircut, no there's no video editing involved in the trick.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Making a Mark and Dealing with Death

Graffiti, it's been around for as long as we have. It can range from a way of telling a story, making a statement, or just a way of getting the world to remember you. It's this last form of graffiti that I'd like to think about for a bit, since the reasons for the other two seem more obvious. I suppose this reason is clear too though, we know that our existence is fleeting and we're trying to do whatever we can to make it more permanent. The typical format is this: Name and Year, it's the Cliffnotes version of you. Some observations: the style has changed over the years, if you look at graffiti that's three hundred years old it's carefully etched out - like Roman script. Well this is a silly question, but why has our handwriting gotten worse? Is it because more people know how to write and thus we have to write more frequently, leading inevitably to less careful, poorer looking script? Also, what sort of feelings should seeing that graffiti inspire? I trace my fingers along it trying to picture the person who was laughing to himself as he etched away at the stone. Could he have pictured me? I'll admit that I'm always compelled to leave my mark as well. It was a thrilling to finally be around graffiti that was hundreds of years old, to include myself in that history book!

I'm crazed about the passage of time. First time is ridiculous, for some reason I have a lot of trouble understanding it in any academic capacity. The theory of relativity is about as far as I go, I've only dabbled in string theory. It's just that time is so human. It makes it hard to understand how could it operate outsidhe of ourselves, honestly I'm not sure if it even does. But anyway, my fascination isn't just limited to the past (as was discussed in a prior post), but to the future as well. Actually, it's mainly directed at the future because it scares me. Martin Heidegger discussed this anxiety at great length, he said it was part of "our-being-towards-death" or rather at what is always never [because you cannot experience death itself.] He reasoned that one becomes an "authentic" human when she accepts her mortality and inevitably that she will never realize a totalized self. But Heidegger, how?! How. How. How. That's the tricky part. When I feel anxious I'm enveloped by it, I could live with the knowledge that none of my projects may be accomplished, but is this any sort of life? There may be a sense of quietude involved in it, but I'm sorry Heidegger, it seems completely un-human. Sure ontology suggests that we are in the way he described, but what about our experience? We graffiti because we don't want it to end, we won't accept it (I think even tombstones might represent "immortality"). The human spirit chooses ignorance.


Some graffiti I saw in Oxford, UK


Random Observation:
I tend to dress with a bit more of a vintage style I suppose, which people never usually notice really, but whenever I'm on my relatively old bike the elderly stare. I like to think that I seem like a time traveler from their childhood or something to them, which I know is a really strange thought. Today on my way to class I bike passed a group of older folks heading into a museum and old man just looked at me with the biggest smile on his face! Then a student told me that I looked like I wasn't from this century. Well golly gee wiz, thanks!

The outfit

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Bring it!

"Working out isn't just a thing you do, it's a lifestyle."

This was said to me by a friend (now makeshift personal trainer) while commenting on her newly found love - P90X! If you haven't heard of it (apparently though it's one of the more popular workout videos), P90X is a workout regimen designed for those who want to "take their fitness to the next level." That's fine and good, except I'm at level zero. I don't think I look particularly unhealthy, but my strength and endurance are horrible. Let's put it this way, by the end of this I'd like to be able to do a push up. I've been going to the gym everyday for the past few days with my roommate where our friend will continue to whip our butts into shape. Having someone standing over you, telling you not complain is key. She'll go so far as to tell us that we should be enjoying the pain and you know what, it actually helps. The goal is to keep this up, one hour of the gym everyday.... forever. It's the forever that kills me though, it's the whole making this a "lifestyle" that I can't get over... because it's true. It's a daunting but necessary task - especially because my plans to study philosophy for the next five years (Ok that just scared me too. Five more years?!) tends to entail a sedentary lifestyle.

There would be times where I'd be sitting in a chair for hours, like 6 hours, not moving, just reading Kant. Kant! Ah... you see we have a tendency to read and write about life rather than living it. Philosopher's like to talk about human nature, but honestly after sitting and reading like that you stop feeling human. This shouldn't be. I want to feel embodied! Hunger pangs shouldn't remind me of my physicality, simply being in the world should! It's true pain throws us into existing more than anything else. Think about it are you more aware of your being when you have the flu or when you're sitting in class? It shouldn't be this way though. Modernity has done this too us, the suburbs have, the food we eat, everything. I'm thankful for it all when it comes down to it, but don't you ever get the compulsion to just run?

I want to be able to run when I feel that way. Embodiment I'm coming for you!
In the words of P90X, BRING IT!

p.s
I really like it when we all highfive after workouts.
Highfives make everyone happy, we just can't help ourselves can we?

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Journey through Juggling


Technically speaking challenged failed, but I'll continue to practice. I'll learn to juggle, it just may take a little more than a week.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Invention of Lying

You may have seen the movie "The Invention of Lying," which has had a heavy influence on this post. I've been thinking about the nature of lying for a while now for some reason or the other and let me tell you, lying is strange. It's a completely human trait, animals can't lie because they lack imagination and it's our ability to picture what isn't that provides us with this curious trait. The premise of the movie deals with just that, human beings never evolved to have imagination and thus they also can't lie. They have to say what they're thinking or feeling as it is. This has all sorts of reciprocations, like with love for instance. They rely solely on who will be the best "mate" and not who they love. They don't understand that concept of love, just like animals (although don't get me wrong, I like to think that my cats love me but I know in reality I'm anthropomorphizing them too much by saying that).

What's really strange though, is lying to yourself. It means that you must be tricking yourself because you have to know the truth - or else it wouldn't be called self-deception right? How does the mind block out what it doesn't want to know?! Coming up with a logical proof for that seems difficult...

But back to love. The movie suggested that love couldn't exist without imagination and in some way I think that's correct, but does that mean that all love is imagined? What is love? [Insert corny 90's song and head bob here] Are we really just fooling ourselves into becoming enamored with evolutionarily useless traits? In a way yes, I think love entails a certain amount of self-deception. Don't get me wrong though, I think it's probably the most beautiful thing that makes us human. I may be in a particularly sappy mood (though let's face it, I'm always in particularly sappy mood), but there's something so wonderful in our ability into tricking ourselves into love! It's mystical - the universe would be a bland place to exist if it weren't for our imagination; instead of just being, we thrive! I am equating imagination with lying, but really I do think they are one in the same - we're capable of so many unworldly things (like love, art, story telling, scientific advancements, philosophy etc.) because we can picture what is not.

So to those caught up with the fad of "radical honesty" I say give it up! Sure I can certainly appreciate telling the truth, but really where has the truth ever gotten us?

Friday, August 13, 2010

Punishment

Punish me through a challenge. I've failed at BEDA, blame it on the other acronym GRE.
If anyone has something that they'd like to challenge me to learn/do I'll do it. If not I'm going with learning how to juggle. I one week I will have a video up of me juggling.
I've borrowed this idea from him: http://charliemcdonnell.com/juggling/

I am taking the test tomorrow, something I'll keep in mind: how frequently do words having definition relating to verbal abuse appear. I have a theory...

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Something Striking

It's late again, so I suppose I'll share something that just happened to me though it's not much of a "blog."

I saw the movie Toy Story 3 and afterwards I felt compelled to dig through my closet to find Lamby-Poo, my childhood companion. I got her on the day of my birth and she was a constant figure at my side for many of those early years. At some point in middle school I guess I decided I no longer required her company and she was sequestered to away. Last night I found her, smelt her (maybe that's weird, but smell is tied to memory. Scent is VERY important to me), and placed her on my nightstand.

I am in bed now, sitting with my computer on my lap, mucking around on the internet. I picked up Lamby-Poo to examine her further and I find a couple of short black hairs on her. I pull one out, examine it.... it's the hair of my cat Punchie who passed away seven years ago. I also grew up with Punchie, my sister and I used to say he was our brother. He was a kitten and I was a baby when we met... we loved him very much. Well, suddenly it came back to me; the time right before he had died. His hair was strewn on everything, like a cat's does and I was obsessed with preserving the memory of him. I purposely wouldn't clean things off, I filmed him, took pictures, I just wanted to burn his image into my skull. He was the first "person" I had ever lost and so I was trying to prepare myself for the inevitably traumatic experience.

Here mingled with the orange fur of one of my 'new' cats Mr. Numchucks (yes, we have an affinity for odd names in this family) was grayish-black, with white tipped fur of Punchie (full name, Punchenello Funny Fellow). I miss him, he was a good cat.

How the past floods back!

Punchie

Monday, August 9, 2010

Space Cadet

Uh oh. It's not technically Monday anymore and I have yet to write this blog. Ok, well here's something, though it's random and probably trivial...

Do you think you'll ever be in outer space? Virgin has a commercial spaceship now... and I guess they're trying to workout all sorts of seemingly ridiculous things, like how to have sex in space (for this they've prototyped a velvet tube) or how to get a hot tub in a spaceship (it's more like a floating sphere of h20, than a box with water in it). I asked my mom this question and she said that when she was my age she was positive that she would have been living in space by her forties. Such a sentiment makes me wonder if my very posing of the question is naive.

If you got a chance to go into space would you?
This is a question I haven't got answer to. I mean I'm terrified of flying on a plane, I couldn't imagine how afraid I would be to leave the planet. On the other hand think about the beauty of it all! At the same time, think about all the beauty there is to see on Earth...

Well, this is just a random thought. The show Doctor Who was the impetus for these questions. Here have a look, it's a fantastic show: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpbmMhNe6aA&feature=channel


And with that, Good Night!

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Don't Panic!

I can't help but feel it a bit ironic that I had this ubiquitous phrase (made so famous by the author Douglas Adams from whose work the title of my blog comes) slapped onto the back window of my car, in which I actually used to panic quite a bit. I have a four hour commute between my home and college. I also have an irrational fear of driving. Well, really it's a somewhat rational fear given the number of car accidents, I would have to say that my fear of flying is probably more irrational really... But anyways, fear a funny thing - especially when what you're afraid of is intangible. I'm sure there's a Radiolab episode out there that explains the science behind fear, but alas I've yet to listen to it. So what you're going to get is some pseudo-science compliments of my mind!

Fear of the intangible or rather the non-existent, must involve a certain amount of self-deception, (which is another really strange concept.... how can we lie to ourselves?) But anyways, our brain isn't processing a hungry bear roaring into our faces with the hopes of us becoming it's next meal. No, instead the idea of an unlikely possibility manifests itself in very real way. Essentially, we turn nothing into something. I think we do this often, so often that I wonder how we evolved this way - to what advantage does it give us? (But this I will save for tomorrow's blog because I've been wanting to write something about lying in general!)

So one minute you're driving talking to your friend in the passenger seat, the next you become aware of your breathing. This is a strange feeling, to anticipate your every breath. Soon you feel like you're breathing is off, like it's somehow out of sync, you compensate and it begins to feel like you're almost getting too much air. Black spots appear and tunnel vision ensues. You have to pull over! You try to reason with yourself.... there's nothing to be frightened over! But you can't control your body, this is a fight that your mind has lost. How helpless of a feeling. The strangest thing about panic attacks is that they often happen unexpectedly, a.k.a you're not actively internalizing your fear at the moment the attack hits. That's the thing about worry and fear, they're real good hiders.

I remember when I was fearless, (it's something that I think develops with age.) I remember when my mind was in control of my body, it's when I was a gymnast. You see, gymnastics isn't something that one can just pick up. Doing a back flip isn't so much about the physical training it requires, as it is the mental. From a young age we were told to have no fears, second guessing oneself could have meant a broken neck after all. And I have to admit that it's an amazing feeling to be so careless. Well, life happens and here I am: trapped within my body, the way most people will live their lives. I'm not sure how the mind can triumph over unconscious physicality, something to think about I suppose...

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Silent Songstress

Do you sing-along to music in the car? I rarely see people doing it. Sometimes when I think I catch a glimpse of a fellow commuter cutting loose I soon realize that they were just having a (most likely obnoxious) conversation on their bluetooth headset. It makes me wonder... what is this world coming to?! All I'm going to say is that it's a sad day when take the unnaturalness and inanity of driving silently. I mean... singing is fun and I can't even sing. In fact, singing in the car is fun because I can't sing; like when else am I going to get an opportunity to do so? Because I sure as hell won't intentionally subject you to my voice. Yelling in the car is also a must try. Screaming is very good for the soul and I'm not really the type of person to scream at anyone else so a lonely commute is the best place for such behavior. Belt out some nonsense and you'll feel more alive after, promise.

Well, I just think it would put a smile on my face to see some middle-aged man singing along to the radio or his CD of choice. Oh, and am I embarrassed by neighboring drivers gawking at my performance? Nope. I aim to please, even if it's at my expense.

Now it's time for Random Observations!

1. People with unusual names are lucky because they get the best email addresses. For instance, leila.shooshani@gmail.com Allison Smith, for instance probably has to do alli.smith1284@gmail.com, poor girl.
2. I do not have a radio voice.
3. Going to Starbucks makes me feel really white.
4. It annoys me how complicated it is to donate something to a charity, rather than an organization that's just going to turn around and sell it for profit.
5. People act funny when they start college and are trying to impress new people.
6. Everyone's internet persona is different than their one "IRL."
7. I met someone who listens to Wizard rock in L.A, I noticed a Moaning Mrytles pin she had on that said "suffering from Post Potter Depression." I lied to her and told her that I also loved the music.


Sorry my posts have become less and less substantial. GRE in one week... ahh!

Friday, August 6, 2010

Storytelling

When I'm having trouble falling asleep at night I have a couple of techniques. First one should try lighting a candle, having a cup of tea, and reading good book just before sleep. The other thing to do is to listen to either Sufjan Stevens or Garrison Keillor. I name these two people because they both happen to be story tellers in their own rights. (It just so happens that the both of them come from the Midwest and draw the majority of their inspiration from their homeland). Not to mention they have soothing voices.... well at least to me.

Stevens' lyrics are stories and I get the impression that they're his stories, which make them just that much more relate-able. Take the following song for instance, the emotions it evokes... In this story he's young and discovering what it means to live.

Keillor is also fantastic. He is a storyteller in the most traditional sense of the term. I love Lake Wobegon, the semi-fictional town he's created and told us stories about for over a decade. If you've been listening long enough you begin to know the characters probably better than you know your own neighbors (well, that's at least the way it is Florida). I find something romantic in the disposition of Midwesterners, those old Norwegian folk. His insights into life come from a wizened man. And his voice, well you either love it or you hate it, but if I'm in a sleepy mood he puts me out in 7 minutes guaranteed.


So there you have it, two beautiful storytellers whom I love to listen to. Listen to them while you're wide awake so that you can fully appreciate what they have to say, but if you ever do need a bedtime story, they'll do the trick just fine!

With that being said, good night!

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Memory

So I made a video blog. It's a bit of an experiment, probably a failed one... I'm a bit incoherent despite my attempts to splice out the jibber-jabber.
I was trying to discuss memories and if/how much they form our identity, or at least our perceived self. Is an attachment to the past reflective of a person who is unsure of their character or is it just a matter of triviality? I wonder if we choose to represent ourselves to others through our memories.... let me know your take on it if you have one and also if
have a special request to see an end to the vlogging!

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

BEDA

Okay, so I'm a bit late but I'm going to try to participate in "Blog Everyday in August." There will probably be less attempts at insight and more random thoughts on my day etc. within these blogs. So here we go.

I've been having trouble finding "inspiration" lately, which I feel is due mostly in part to the amount of meneal work I've been doing lately. Being cooped up in a library is maybe good for some cursory observations, but let me tell you it gets very old very quickly. I've also slacked on my thesis reading (the interesting stuff) in order to focus in on the GRE (the useless stuff). Multiplying fractions and memorizing pretentious vocabulary doesn't allow much time for revelations. Actually here's one thing I did notice... an insane percentage of "the 500 hardest words on the GRE" have meanings similar to "to verbally abuse." Why is that?!

Well, I went to L.A to visit the family. I'll have to write about that soon. Unfortunately this summer I've been so brainwashed to have this disgusting inclination to study that I wasn't able to fully enjoy my time there - in fact it kind of felt like a waste of time, which is just such a horrible thing to feel.

Grilled cheese now then it's off to the library for me to take some more practice tests. Oh life.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Everything is In It's Place

Yesterday afternoon I was listening to RadioLab (science show on NPR) and the topic of discussion was "limits." The theme of this entry will differ from that, today I am writing about Order. The program featured an experiment conducted in some lab at some graduate school by some scientists, who wanted to see if they could build a computer with the ability to find order in what is seemingly chaotic. So where did they themselves some chaos? In a contraption that is basically a double pendulum. As you know a single pendulum sways back and forth at a regular pace, but throw another one into the mix and it's apparent chaos. Take a look for yourself:


Erradic, no? Well, what this computer found in a mere 24 hours is something that took humanity millenia to discover... a beautifully simple equation: Force = (Mass)(Acceleration), otherwise known as Newton's second law of motion. This revelation caused me to wonder if chaos is even possible. Apparently things only have a tendency to seem chaotic to us because we don't really understand them; Comprehension is everything! Our knowledge is limited, but theorhetically speaking a computer's isn't. Still, we can't understand the formulas the computer's spits back out to us. In other words, the order is there, but it is incomprehensible. For centuries now humankind was at a high note, where we not only made observations regarding the universe, but actually understood the meaning behind them. This was a brief luxury in our species' history and with the advent of insanely complex technology our limits of comprehension will be left in the realm of mystification.

Everything is in it's place. The bible says that before the universe was created there wasn't "nothing," but something that cannot really be literally translated from the Hebrew ("tohu va vohu"). In a way of speaking, it's nonsense! Chaos, chaos is nonsense. In the beginning there was no order then according to the myth, God made order out of the disorder and it worked just like a well tuned machine. Machines can't run on nonsense, you know. I'm not a religious person, but I think there are insights within these ancient myths that carry a timeless relevance. Thousands of years ago we had an feeling that there must be a system to this topsy turvy world in which we live, and ya know what? We were right.

I find it somewhat poetic that we can't see past the nonsense, past the chaos and disorder. We have a feeling, an inclination towards a universe where all that happens occurs simply because it must. Personally we want our lives to make sense, we want them to mean something within the larger framework; to have all of the injustice and suffering exist for a reason. A reason amidst the chaos that is the human experience. Life makes sense to other creatures, they know their place in the world, to go on existing until it's their time not to. We complicate things because we can't understand where we all fit in this most excellent machine that is the universe. Perhaps it's this very ignorance which provides all of those amazing qualities that make humanity so great (and so terrible... sometimes I feel the two are synonymous.)

You may feel differently, but I can take solace in the fact that I exist because I must. It all happens because it has to.

I'll end with a quote that seems appropriate and funnily enough was my "senior quote" in my high school yearbook. The quote is by author Kurt Vonnegut.

Nice, nice, very nice
Nice, nice, very nice
So many people in the same device


p.s
check out Radiolab. It's fantastic.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

A Summer of "First World" Problems

I've been a bit of a complainer this summer between having trouble finding a steady income, preparing to write my senior thesis, taking standardized tests, working on applications to graduate schools, beginning to learn French, and trying to keep in shape.... life's not easy ya know!

Well, not really. Life can be pretty easy, especially when all of your problem are that of the "first world." (I use quotations around the phrase because I don't necessarily agree with the word choice, but since it's common vernacular I'm going with it anyway...) This just got me thinking about my woes, to what end they exist for, and how I could possibly try to justify them.

I'm on a track, you too are most likely also on the track. We're raised understanding certain "truths" about life, schooling leads to job - hard work, have fun, decorum, self-maintenance etc. I'm not going to make one of those arguments we've all heard towards the end of high school, "Man, it's like we're just EXPECTED to go to college. Well, I don't want to be part of THE SYSTEM man. Imma make my own future!" I know people who've relinquished their privilege, started dressing in clothing that went out of its way to look mismatched and old, and train hopped the country living la vie boheme - right out of a Kerouac novel. No, that's not what I'm going to argue. More and more I find myself partial to the utilitarian perspective, whose mantra is "minimize pain and maximize pleasure" doing so in the most utile ways. I have opportunity and I am happy to make use of it, not let it go by the wayside in the hopes that I can maximize my potential to do good - to minimize other's pain. I have to say that studying philosophy itself can be a bit masturbatory. I mean it's not like becoming a doctor where your affect is hyper-tangible. I still worry about my choice in academic career for that reason.

So what's my point. I'm not sure. I think that's part of the idea. I'm at a really stressful and confusing time in my life (I feel like ya'll might be able to relate), but despite this I just need to remember that whenever I complain I do so from a point of privilege. I need to remember why I'm trying so hard to get into grad school in the first place. Easy to say, harder to do.


Also in connection with an older post, I would just like to say that the man sitting next to me in the library today was looking at photos of female body builders for at least 30 minutes.


Monday, July 12, 2010

School of Wrock

WARNING!
The following blog will reveal extremely nerdy truths about me. I am choosing to disclose them to you in the hopes that they will not be held against me. With that said, let it begin:

The word "Wrock" is derived from the words "wizard" and "rock" and is thus more formally known simply as "wizard rock." Now, raise your hand if you've ever hear of it... not to many of you. The Harry Potter fandom is huge and like any large movement it's bound to produce music. My journey into this seedy underbelly of what is far less than most would care to categorize as "rock," began on Youtube. I love Youtube, I really love Youtube.; in fact I do so much so that I will probably have to dedicate another blog entry completely to the subject. Anyways, it was by means of a group of then teen-aged vloggers dubbed "The Five Awesome Girls" that I was introduced into the wizarding world. The girls video-blogged about their lives to each other (and in the process over the years to approximately 33,090 other people as well.) Two out of the five are members of wrock bands: the Moaning Myrtles and the Parselmouths, respectively.

I had loved Harry Potter growing up. At one time my room was completely decked out with HP merchandise, so much so that I avoided having my Born Again Christian friend come over in fear that she would scold me for my worship of the satanic figure. If Harry Potter meant that I would be going to hell, then I was ok with it. I went so far as to rig a broomstick on a tree branch so that I could have my chance at flight. Let's just say it was quite literally a painfully stupid idea. My love of the series of novels hasn't faded, although my die hard dedication to them has, which is to be expected of most people in my age. Yet, this just isn't the case for the brave few who have decided to hold strong by attending annual conferences, writing fanfiction, and making Harry Potter themed music. I am not one of these people and so I always have felt like an anthropologist of sorts when it came to my fascination of them; a cautious observer, who looks but doesn't actually meddle. This method has afforded me the ability to learn a lot about the community, while never actually amounting to a full-fledged member of it. So let me tell you what you probably don't know about Wizard Wrock.

The internet is the most valuable tool a Wrocker has and this group of people has truly become adept at utilizing it. Youtube, blogs, something called "blog TV" (essentially live vlogging), twitter, dailybooth, etc. These folks live on the internet and put their lives out there for the world to see in a fashion that isn't uncommon these days, but with a certain factor that is: the following they receive in response. This is an international community, but it is still tight-nit. Unlike your run-of-the-mill rock star, Wrockers know they're fans even if they have yet to meet them in person. In fact they most likely may never meet them in person, a circumstance that doesn't seem to at all inhibit these friendships. The internet has also given them opportunities that most underground bands couldn't dream of, a.k.a large record sales. It costs them next to nothing to produce their music and they can turn a profit from it due to the hype-machine that is their Youtube channels. It doesn't end there. Kristina Horner of the Parselmouths and ALL CAPS (link to her sites below) for instance received a free car as a participant in the Ford Fiesta Movement due to her highly active internet life.

Wrockers write songs about Harry Potter, dress like characters from the books, adopt stage personalities that reflect kitsch names of their bands, and in typical nerd fashion they play most of their shows at libraries. Their music, is on the whole horrible. They are almost all amateurs, whose voice talent shouldn't go beyond high school musical theater shows, and whose use of instruments reminds me of the band I was in "The Rock Tragedies," which is to say it sucks. That's not really what it's about though. Wizard Rock and the Harry Potter fandom at large, provide a safe space for those of us with quirkier tastes. At these shows you'll see a myriad of nerds, doing what they do best... being themselves. I think that if we were all better at staying true to ourselves there'd be a lot more "nerds" out there.

So kudos Nerdfighters and Wrockers alike, for following through on your passions and doing what most of would be to ashamed to do. I really think you make an addiction to an (in retrospect) overrated children's book cool, and for that tip my black pointy hat. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to join in on the fun, but for now I think I'll just watch.

The Parselmouths

Other bands you may want to check out include:
The Moaning Myrtles, Harry and the Potters, the Ministry of Magic, The Remus Lupins, The Whomping Willows, etc.

For further info check out: http://wizrocklopedia.com/


Saturday, June 26, 2010

About Me

I'm of the opinion that it's always good for a writer to provide their background information before commenting on other peoples, ideas, etc. This comes from the notion that we're all biased and anything we produced will also be tainted, so we can at least lesson the slant if we acknowledge our own circumstances. I figure I should provide some biographical tidbits on here, but the truth is I've always been horrible at summing-up my character and life. This is evidenced in the fact that I chose to display the worst poetry in the universe (literally) over some personal descriptors in the blog's "About Me" section. Even when I was presented with the task of writing a paragraph long bio for a club's website I fumbled; I asked for an example. An example?!! Ok fine, I had wanted to include my love of felines in the paragraph, but quickly took that out when I saw that everyone else had included their awards, qualifications, training, study abroad, etc. All of which I failed to include. What was I thinking?(Oh, and I'm president of this organization by the way.) It didn't even occur to me to boast, but that's why I'm a crappy businessperson and do you know what I'm the worst at selling? Myself.

So here we go. This is me? I guess...

My name means "Night - Her Light - from the town of Shooshan." I'm from South Florida and have lived here all my life. I come from a diverse family, my father is a Persian-Jewish-anarchist and my mother is an all American-Lutheran born- Rush Limbaugh lover. I have a younger sister Roxy, we are 13 months apart; I think that we're very close. I was a very strange child, that's something you probably hear a lot, but I mean it. Socially I was very awkward and preferred to reside in my own head. This, for the most part, is still the case. I have a hyper-imagination, but with age I fear its leave. I'm afraid that I think more about what I have to accomplish than a world that I wish could be. I love sleeping because I love to dream, and I usually have awesome dreams; I'm excellent at lucid dreaming as well. I believe in ghosts and don't like to walk around the house at night because of it. I love t.v mostly because it's an escape.

I used to read a lot more fiction when I was younger, but now I hate to admit that I only get to the stuff I'm studying. By the way, I'm studying philosophy. I chose to study it because I thought and still think that it's the only thing I'm good at, and even then I'm only moderately good at it. I took a college intro class when I was 16 and decided then that philosophy was what I was going to study. The next year I went to Boston to take another class in it. In Boston, I realized that I had somewhat quirky interest. I suppose that attending a high school for the arts did not illuminate me to this fact sooner. Oh yeah, I studied film in high school. That was my attempt to translate my jagged thoughts into reality, I considered the experiment overall a failure. So I decided that I needed to attend a university that would speak to my apparent quirks, because I desperately wanted to form meaningful friendships, which are extremely important to me. I care too much for people and so often they don't reciprocate.

I'm shy, but I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I have no emotional filter. This has annoyed men that I have been with. This also annoys people in movie theaters because I freak out at suspense, mimic facial expressions, and flail during fight scenes. I'm relatively confident, but skeptical about the way others perceive me. I'm hyper-empathetic in the way that I feel other people's emotions to the max, but suck at reading the more reserved of them. I have to know what people are thinking and feeling about me, so this can be troubling. I don't like little kids any more than I like playing with a dog. I have trouble relating to them just the same. I love to people watch, I think this comes from my desire yet ineptness at understanding people. I'm overall somewhat lazy with my school work, but I think that's because I've found that I can get by with an only moderate amount of effort. This is changing because life is requiring more effort. I do things too quickly. I'm interested in people. You should respond with your bio....

Oh yeah, I also love cats.