I'm just going to conveniently forget all of the awesome stuff I had intended to post for the past several days (except the saved draft I just posted) and move forward. If I have a nostalgic moment for something that seems random...well, it's actually prolly still random. However, it could also be something from the past week that was intended to be on here and never made it.
First of all: I GOT SIX HOURS OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT. (Thank you, Alex and Aaron, for letting me sleep on the futon. I love you.)
I am also wanting to write, I just don't know what.
Second, I love my English class. (Insert gushy for-once-I-like-being-an-English-major speech.) This might in part be due to my unusual level of alertness (Again: I GOT SIX HOURS OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT. Did I emphasize that it was a WEEKDAY? And that I got SIX HOURS? Not TWO HOURS OF SLEEP. SIXSIXSIX.), but today has just seemed awesome. I took two scraps of knowledge from it:
- "Leonardo da Vinci" sounds remarkably like "intervention"
- The crusades were merely ways to help unemployed knights get gold stars on their permanent spiritual record
On a side note that is completely related...Sam and I realized the only class we're scared to skip is Fenton's.
Third, I'm getting a new phone. Sometime this week. It is a long, emotionally complicated tale of romance and treachery (or perhaps that's just my relationship with my old phone, not these recent events...), so I shall simply say my lovely BlackBerry Curve 8330 (codename: Sanghelios) is being replaced with a Samsung Instinct s30 (codename: Franziska Scheitzeneder). I'm trying to remain optimistic. It is very, very hard.
For a very important Number Four, DECONSTRUCTION. This was a literary criticism technique we covered in Fenton's Class that I feel I can understand 25% of the time and try to remember I can understand (because I have lost the ability, clearly) 74.5% of the time. The 0.5% is that part of me which will never comprehend this. To best explain deconstruction...well, there is no way. Succinctly, it is breaking down a literary text and pointing out the possible meanings, particularly those that contradict each other. The point is that there is no one true meaning to a literary text, and if you think you've found one true meaning you're wrong and imprisoned in a frame of thought that was pushed onto you by society. Or something. It's awesome.
If you think this is too hard on literary criticism, read the Wikipedia article on deconstruction.
Fifth, I suppose I'll go ahead and tackle integrity. It was initially brought up because of this philosophy reading we had, written by Bernard Williams. It tears into utilitarianism, claiming it's an attack on integrity. I can see where he's coming from, but it's a weak argument in several ways and I (for some reason I cannot quite explain) am bothered by his definition of integrity. There are, of course, several ways to define it, but I prefer to use two excerpts from V for Vendetta (the movie), said by Valerie Page, that explain integrity far better than I ever could:
Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us, but within that inch, we are free.and
I shall die here. Every inch of me will perish. Every inch but one. An inch... It is small, and fragile, and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us. I hope that, whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the world turns and things get better. But I hope most of all that you understand that even though I will never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you.That is integrity.
For now, fin. I'll be posting my ramblings from the last week soon, and I've actually started it so -fingers crossed-, right?
P.S.: I have no idea where this came from, but I stumbled across it in Chrome's history and it makes me giggle.
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