Keep Your Options Open

I got accepted into the PhD program at IU. I'm "being considered" for financial aid, but they haven't made an offer yet. Still waiting to hear from Michigan, Princeton, and U. Chicago. Duke turned me down (those fucktards).

I haven't decided to go yet, but it's nice to have the option, you know? As my old religion professor Dick Davis used to say, "the central motto of people under 30 is Keep Your Options Open." It was something like that, anyway. This guy also had a cheesy blue trucker-style cap that said KIERKEGAARD on it...ha! He was great.

John Prine said, "Old man sleeps with his conscience at night. Young kid sleeps with his dreams."

I wonder if this ridiculous weight of freedom ever eases up. If, at some point, the options start narrowing, and you aren't burdened by the need to direct your own life anymore.

But, this is the stage of the aesthete, the stage of uncommitment. Kierkegaard would say that the highest value for the aesthete is the interesting, and his demon is boredom. Commitment is the bridge to the ethical stage. Commitment to a wife, to a job, to a house, to a place...that is the ethical life, and it's all most folks can hope to achieve. The highest value for the ethicist is the good. In Either/Or, Kierkegaard presents the aesthete (whose pursuit of the interesting is manifested in his seduction of young maidens) and the ethicist, manifested as the married and respectable Judge Wilhelm. Wilhelm writes to the seducer and argues that his own ethical life is not boring, as the aesthete fears, but rather infinitely interesting, as he explores the viscissitudes of a single relationship with a solitary mate.

On This American Life a couple of weeks ago, a man wrote about his struggles with fidelity to his wife. He describes a conversation with his wife where he says, "you know, monogamy is kind of sad...breaking the rules, being unfaithful, is a big part of the human experience. And if you stay faithful forever, you'll never experience it."

The wife thinks for a while and replies, "yes, that's true. But if you're unfaithful, you'll never know what it's like to be faithful to your partner for your entire life...and maybe that's an important part of the human experience too."

Either/Or. Options close off. As the barber shop sign on 10th st. said, "you can do anything, but you can't do everything."

I and Thou

I can't tell if this cat loves me or hates me. It follows me around and meows at me. It rubs against my leg and tries to jump in my lap. It will occasionally hiss at me or take a swat at my leg as I walk by. It's sort of like an abusive spouse, I guess.

When the kids leave home, what do parents do? Do they have to figure out if they still like each other after 20 years of child rearing? If there's still some spark of, not even passion, but just affection? A group of three or more is nothing, nothing, like a group of two. Martin Buber, the 20th century Jewish theologian and philosopher, said that consciousness consists of relationships, of which there are two sorts. One sort is the I/it relationship. The other is the I/You relationship. That's why people write notes on each other's "walls" on facebook instead of sending them a private message. The implied third party viewer reduces the sting of intimacy. Anybody else's presence turns a conversation into a performance.

When you start spending time by yourself, it's like the kids left home, and it's just you and the world, staring at each other across a kitchen table. You say to yourself, "oh yeah...that's really what this is about. It's always, at the heart of it, been me and you, and it always will. We love the kids, and we wish them well, but it's this, this thing between us, that has to be strong, or nothing else works, does it?"

And you never really know until it's just the two of you, going to sleep next to each other and waking up next to each other, whether it's any good or not.

I think I understand her, and I think I love her, and I don't think anything's going to change that. I'm riding this thing until death do us part.

White Stereotypes

Check out "stuff white people like" here. It's pretty amusing. I agree wholeheartedly with a few of the comments on the site that the thing should be called "stuff white liberals like" or "stuff yuppies like" or even "stuff rich people like." Nevertheless....pretty good.

Thanks to my friend Katie, who is engaged in vigorous and high-tech world-saving at a major international institution, for this and and the previous science fair link.

As a side note, isn't it interesting that, in black comedy, stereotypes of white people are usually drawn from the affluent (and often liberal) segment of the population? I'm guessing it's cause black people in general live in the city, and which is where rich white people live. And stereotypes of black people are drawn from their working class, and even more commonly, from their criminal underclass.

Any expert sociologists out there want to tackle this one?

Something I wrote a while back.

The debtors here are cloaked and anointed.
The creditors salivate and bow, hungry and humble
And happy that, everywhere, extravagance and industry
Have swapped, one for another.

Here, Caesar in his deepest madness is a pauper
And everyone has cable now, and commands legions
From a cushioned perch, half chair, half bed
And calls up delicacies

While, for coin enough, a hard life is bought
And a log house with a wood fire
Is an artful reconnection, and a shotgun
Is a holy sacrament

If you need to laugh....

check out these hilarious science fair projects.

goo goo ga ga

Over two weeks now in New Mexico. Los Banditos are everywhere! With pistolas! I have no ORO, Amigos! Please Favor, do not take my pantalones!

Sorry folks...I don't have all that much to say.

I've just been feeding the birds and keeping the wood stove burning and keeping an eye on the solar-power meter. Getting some work done, though I need to step that up. At some point (maybe when the snow melts), I'm gonna go out and hike around and whatnot.

Pretty and quiet, pretty and quiet. And dry. Very dry. The desert is dry. My moist places need moisturizing.

No word yet on any of the PhD aps. I don't know...I'm not sure if I'm still into it anyway. With the election and being here in this activist culture...it's kind of re-charging my batteries to get and stay involved with the change-making scene. And having a normal day job, where i clearly have time and money to pursue my own interests on my own time, ain't so bad either. Some land, a girlfriend....will I be able to get those things when I'm a broke phd student? Who knows.

Give me some sugar, baby.

This just dawned on me this evening:

Cookie Crisp wasn't really a cereal at all...it was just cookies....tiny cookies. How did they get away with that?

For a day that should have highlighted my single-ness, I had a good fuckin day. Brats and my buddy's first home-brew batch. New digs and John Stewart. School Bus and mountain snow. Magpies. Productivity. Money. Plans.

Sleep. Dreams. Rock People.

A line from the song "I hope it rains at my funeral" by Tom T. Hall

"I finally learned what it meant to be somebody's baby: They let you lie in your bed by yourself so you can cry. "

Character Profile: The Emu

Name: The Emu

Age: Hssssss!

Location: Northern New Mexico Emu Farm

Description: Large, flightless bird. Similar to an ostrich, but smaller.

Personality: Excitable

Fears: Loud Noises, Bright Lights, Predators

Activities: Strutting

Responses to Fear: Hissing, leg-flailing run, wild neck-swing, more hissing.

Dreams: To strut without fear. To peck your eyes out.

Let's say it together. "This..IS..NOT..IMPORTANT."

I just read this article about the film Juno on slate.com.

It brought to mind a sentiment that I think should be articulated now and again. Art is an industry in this country. As such, many people's livelihoods depend on it. When someone's livelihood depends on a certain activity, they are apt to think it is important. Sports is another such industry. Also, people really enjoy movies, and books, and t.v. shows, and paintings. People really enjoy watching sports. Avid fans of these activities may be tempted to deem them important. I am one such fan, and I am sometimes lured into precisely that temptation.

So, let me state unequivocally that WHETHER OR NOT JUNO IS WORTHY OF AN OSCAR IS COMPLETELY, TOTALLY, AND UTTERLY UNIMPORTANT.

Other than determining how much money a tiny number of people will receive, the quality of that film has absolutely no bearing on anybody's life whatsoever. It will not provide healthcare for a poor person. It will not disarm murderous African militias. It will not reduce the pace of global climate change. It will not pacify islamist extremists.

Neither will the outcome of this year's NCAA championship, or World Series, or next year's Superbowl.

I like good art. It makes me happy. I enjoy it. And, I like it to be good. I enjoy talking about it. Sometimes, I even attempt to make it. But, in the midst of this revelry, it is useful to remember that it is a fairly ineffective way to reduce human suffering or improve human thriving. Say it with me now, "THIS...IS...NOT...IMPORTANT."

Ok, now I said it, so I can get back to my comic books.

Bu-Bu's

It's hard to live in pretty places. If it wasn't, there'd be lots of people there, and it wouldn't be pretty anymore. My poor car has taken a pretty good beating. After the car wreck, something put a big gash in the side (probably the county road-clearing vehicles), leading my friend to suggest that I change the name from "The Bu" to "The Bu-Bu." Thankfully, as far as I can tell, all of the damage has been aesthetic only, and I've never given much of a shit about how the car looks. Tomorrow I'm putting chains on the tires so I can get around with a tad bit more self-sufficiency. At the moment, I'm totally dependent on others to drive me around.

The folks here have been generous to me and understanding of my confusion and uselessness. Everyone here comes off as ten-times tougher and more capable than me. Being self-sufficient and capable of surviving these crazy conditions is just part of the culture here. Everyone seems totally engaged in public issues, too. It seems like every other person has done at least one incredible thing in their lives...started a nonprofit, made a movie, saved an ecosystem, recycled their bottles and cans...you know.

I feel pretty lost and out of place, though that's not to say that I haven't also been enjoying myself. I went on a little snow-shoe hike, which to the tough and hearty folk out here would be physically equivalent to tying their shoes, but to me it was exhausting. Nevertheless, aside from the chafing thighs and feeling of imminent collapse, I took in some beautiful vistas. My buddy...hell, his name is Daniel, so I'll just call him that...Daniel took me into Taos for a little get-together at a brew-pub to celebrate his buddy's becoming an EMT. Again, everyone was nice, but as I've mentioned on this blog before, I really feel terribly awkward in gatherings of people where I don't know many folks. And, here, obviously, I know very few. I guess I need to get used to it, at least for the next 5-6 months.

On the way home, I had to walk part of the way up to the house where I'm staying. The thin air and sparse population make the night skies pretty spectacular. Intellectually, I know those points of light are all mindless, soul-less, lifeless balls of fiery gas, plopped in the lifeless vacuum of space, doomed to violent supernova deaths. But tonight, they seemed more like the face of a beautiful woman, smiling at me.

Escape

Well, I've been snowed in since Saturday night with my buddy and his friend in his friend's house up on a mountain. We're hoping to make it out today, which means I might be able to get a toothbrush and a razor from town, as well as get all my stuff out of my car, which is parked down the mountain. Also, my buddy's friend here will be able to get to the polls. I'll be staying here until the middle of February, when I'll be housesitting for some folks who work with the camp.

Weather conditions seem to be a much bigger deal here than in Indiana. We've been having a good time and eating well. Played some music last night after our elk dinner. Had french toast this morning with home-made strawberry syrup goodness.

I suppose I actually need to start working, now that I'm halfway settled. I'm looking for, writing, and hopefully getting grants for a summer camp. It's a pretty cool program. The kids do a lot of work, basically, working with horses and in the garden and in the woods. They also do some fun hiking and river trips. There's a focus on environmental consciousness, particularly local agriculture, self-sufficiency, and sustainability.

Here's some pictures that my friend took around the area here. You can see that it's pretty.

Arrival, Chaos

I'm in New Mexico. I got another speeding ticket in colorado, and I had a fender bender today on the icy mountain roads, and I still have no real home, and I got my car stuck about 20 times driving around looking for a place. So, it's stressful, but it's beautiful here, and all in all, I'm enjoying the adventure.

More to come.