Let’s Talk About Meeeeeeeee!

So… what flaws do have? None. How dare you propose that I am flawed… Okay, I’m a bit on the vain side.

I suck at dancing. I am uncoordinated, awkward, and have no sense of rhythm. But I love dancing, so I really don’t care about what others might describe as “untalented” or “clumsy”. I once accidentally stole a book from the library. I checked it out freshman year, thought I turned it in, and then found it two years later under my bed. Oops. (I did return the book eventually. I’m no crook.) When I was little we owned two cats. Me and my sister once had a competition to see who could hold a cat upside down by it’s tail for the longest. Needless to say, they scratched us and our parents were very displeased with us. I was an odd child. I didn’t learn the actual date of Christmas until I was like 11. I believed that elves lived in stoplights and that they decided when the light turned red. I also believed that if you screamed “GREEN LIGHT” loud enough they would hear you and change the light. I occasionally run into walls. I take annoying twenty minute showers because the shower is my thinking-place. I have an unreasonable dislike of maxi skirts, tiny pigs, and those so-called “artistic” photos where one object is in color and everything else is in black and white. I don’t like getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night because I’m still not totally convinced that monsters don’t exist in the dark. I sometimes zone out when my little sister is talking. At home I show no regard for others by singing at the top of my lungs even though I know that I’m a horrible singer. I never remember birthdays. I can be petty and rude and inconsiderate, and sometimes, I don’t even care because I spend too much time in my own head instead of sympathizing with the plights of others.

But if I had to pick my worst flaw or shortcoming, it would be my stubbornness. I’ve prolonged many an argument by refusing to admit defeat even if I knew that I was wrong. What’s the best type of milk? Who cares, right? I cared enough to argue about it for like two hours. (The answer is whole milk). I am just so unbelievably headstrong. This is very hard for me to admit because I typically  maintain a very high opinion of myself. Unfortunately, this not-so-enviable quality of mine has lead to quite a few heated discussions with my mother. (She’s stubborn just like me, by the way). So I guess I really need to work on my stubbornness. But you had better not say anything about it because I’ll most likely take your well-meaning advice as an insult and then refuse to even recognize that sometimes I can be a bit unreasonable.

All the trivial stuff aside, I really am way to headstrong for my own good. It’s not that I don’t respect the opinions of others, I just tend to think that my ideas are more right. Sorry about that. Forgive me if I ever offend you.

How Do You Feel, Hawthorne?

I personally don’t think it really matters how Hawthorne felt about adultery when he wrote The Scarlet Letter. He was telling a story, not writing an essay on the morality of sexual relationships. I think that the point Hawthorne was trying to convey, is that sin can be a means to salvation and that it is hatred that truly ruins a person. Therefore, I think it is impossible to tell if Hawthorne condones or condemns the actions of Hester and Dimmesdale. Conclusive support for either side would be hard to find. For example, at the end of the novel, Hawthorne writes “the scarlet letter ceased to be a stigma which attracted the world’s scorn and bitterness, and became a type of something to be …. looked upon with awe, and yet with reverence, too” (Conclusion). This differs greatly from the Custom House description of how the scarlet letter burned the chest of the narrator when he first discovered it. Contrast such as this appears throughout the book. Pearl is touched by the devil, but also pure and well-loved. Hester was able to wander moral regions where “other women dare not tread” (A Flood of Sunshine), and yet was described as having lost her beauty. Dimmesdale is consumed with guilt, and yet somehow the most holy character in the novel.

Therefore, I think that if Hawthorne condemned anything, it would be hatred. Roger Chillingsworth embodies this hatred. His revenge has lead him to be viewed as evil and related to the devil, and in the end he dies having “positively withered up, shrivelled away” (Conclusion). Throughout the novel, many characters are associated with the devil- Mistress Hibbins, Hester Prynne, Pearl, Reverend Dimmesdale. And yet, the only character seen as being truly evil is Chillingsworth. Because of this, I feel that the actions of Hester and Dimmesdale are not the true focus of the novel. Sinning is unavoidable, but mistakes can lead to an improvement of character (which happened to both Hester and Dimmesdale). Hatred, however, corrupts and can not be tolerated.

My Favorite Story

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olivia_(fictional_pig)#mediaviewer/File:Olivia_(fictional_pig).png

I never really liked children’s books. Some of my least favorites were “Goodnight Moon”, “Where the Wild Things Are”,  anything by Dr. Seuss, and anything with repetition or counting. Now before you jump down my throat, I am not saying that these are bad books. I just didn’t like them. Looking back, I think it was the colors or simple plots that repelled me. (Have you ever noticed how many children’s books don’t have enough color?).

If I had to pick my favorite book as a child, then I would choose the “Olivia” the pig book because I was a vain child. It made me feel both famous and somehow a bit insulted. The main character is a pig. I’ve never liked pigs. And there wasn’t enough color! But I always told people it was my favorite because it had my name in it and I had to show some support for anything that could in any way be linked to me. My confusing childhood ideology was very strict concerning these types of matters- anything with my name in it must be good.

I actually enjoyed fairy tales the best, because I’m a bit of a dreamer, and historical fiction next, because I’m a bit of a nerd. If I had to pick my current favorite story, it would be the tale of Finn McCool, an Irish giant, and his wife Oonagh. In the story, “The Giant’s Wife”, a strange giant wants to destroy Finn. It is Oonagh, however, who outwits the giant into leaving without causing Finn any harm. Oonagh had Finn construct a man-sized baby cradle and wear a nightgown and bonnet. Finn climbs into the cradle with a bottle of milk as Oonagh collects several stones. Oonagh puts these stones in a pan with a flat-cake she had made. When the giant arrives, Oonagh convinces him that Finn in his cradle is actually their baby son. Oonagh then offers the giant one of the stones and Finn the flat-cake. The giant, discovering how hard the rock is and how easily Finn tears into the flat-cake, becomes convinced that the “baby’s” father must be the most fearsome giant who ever lived and so he runs away in fear never to be seen again.

When my brother was younger, I would read him myths and legends, mixed with historical fact, as bed time stories. His favorite was that of Finn McCool, and I now associate the fond memories of my little brother with the tale. Furthermore, I’ve always enjoyed how it was the woman who saved her husband, not the stereotypical damsel in distress situation. I told my brother legends instead of reading him common children’s books because I wanted him to dream about heroes and epic trials, fantastic creatures and witty sidekicks. I wanted him to know bits and pieces of mythologies from all over the world, so that he could recognize a truly good story. One with unfamiliar characters and settings, but the familiarity of shared human emotions and real-life applications. I once read that there’s a bit of truth in every story and I hoped that one day my brother would remember our stories and acknowledge their truths. That’s a bit much for a little kid, but my brother wasn’t the average child by any means. And any way, I have always wished that someone had filled my childhood with fantastic tales.

CAKE!!!

Today I am going to talk about CAKE. No, not that delicious dessert, but the American alternative rock band. Basically, they’re super cool. But their enjoyable music is not what I want to talk about. Please, right now, check out the CAKE website.  (here: http://www.cakemusic.com/). What is that you see  under the pig? This: “Always remember: others may hate you. But those who hate you don’t win unless you hate them. And then you destroy yourself.” – Richard M. Nixon. Who puts a Nixon quote on their home page? Now please direct your attention to the section of the pig labeled “news”. Check it out. This is a website dedicated to a group of musicians and it has a section full of news. Now, I’m not saying I agree with every single story on there, as some of them are subjective and political-y, but I am impressed by the many diverse stories. Revolving around humor, politics, music, writing, the economy, and the environment, the abundance of interesting stories is super-cool. If you were to check out their Facebook page, you would see many of these news stories along with questions about many of them which expand into discussions in the comment sections. Cool, right? Now go back to the pig. Click “Advice”. How awesome is a band that encourages contact with it’s listeners? Too flippin’ cool for school. Now check out the “Forest” section of the pig. They’ve given away trees during their concerts and posted photos of them on an interactive map. I can’t even begin to fathom how legit this is. Now that I’ve expressed how COOL I think CAKE is, you can go back to doing whatever it is you do.

*** The only thing wrong with them is that when they post news stories on their Facebook page they typically use the phrase “Tyranny? Explain your concerns.” even when it doesn’t make sense.

Happiness, or the Pursuit Thereof

In his essay, “What is Happiness?”, John Ciardi writes of, well, happiness. The opening lines address the right to pursue happiness, which is legally issued to all Americans. Unfortunately, as Ciardi swiftly comments, happiness does not make easy prey. Most people are of the faith that one can buy and possess themselves to happiness. However, “the forces of American commercialism” have made it their primary purpose to make us “deliberately unhappy”. Ciardi claims that we are made to believe that it is our duty to want. (Of this I would like to say that I feel it is more our supposed duty to simply buy, therefore supporting our fellow man/ large corporation and pouring money into the economy as we are financially able. Actually wanting anything is irrelevant as long as we regularly make a hearty donation to the Church of Capitalism.)  Switching to the other side of the spectrum, Ciardi then describes a holy man of India, who seeks fulfillment through extreme discipline. In response to all of this, Ciardi explains that “happiness is in the pursuit itself”, the desire to discover something deeply meaningful.

I agree with Ciardi. There is nothing more invigorating than a nearly-impossible puzzle or a fantastic journey. In these instances, the destination matters little compared to the experience. And so, for true joy, one cannot just empty their pockets and then move on. Where is the trial and triumph, the satisfaction and sense of accomplishment? 

In addition to what is stated in the essay, I would like to revel upon the mundane acts that somehow cause in-explainable glee. I personally find joy in hot-hot showers, the sensation of warmth when you first wake up, the electricity in the air when you know cold weather is coming but it hasn’t quite arrived yet. I love the feeling of freedom experienced whilst swinging, lemon-flavored pastries, the scent of a book, they way the crowd roars with one voice at Aggie football games, and the sense of home I feel when I see the giant oak tree with it’s arms spread high above my grandparent’s house. I can’t help but feel delight when I hear wind chimes or Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger”. None of these things require very much pursuing, but they all make me happy. So what makes you happy? Are you an avid buyer, a lover of the journey, an Indian-style holy man, or something completely different?  

Check out the essay for yourself!

https://docs.google.com/file/d/0BxcQgjnJhCFGbzJEN1E3NDFxcU0/edit