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September 28, 2007
New Feature
In an attempt to rise to the technological occasion, I've added the up-top do-ha-maticky. It's a slide show, and it's basically free advertising for the people who make the slide show, but I think it's pretty neat. I chose the pictures myself. You can download and use it on your own computer. It's a pretty cool screen saver if your computer is fast enough. It also has to have a dedicated internet connection. Sorry if I used your picture w/out your permission. Let me know if it hijacks your browser or causes pop-ups.
Abomb
Posted by Andytown at 12:46 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 26, 2007
HUNGRY HEART
Call me Andytown.
The week was mostly uneventful, so I won’t go with the journal format. No real hiccups in the Matrix. I’m developing a routine that basically has me sacrificing any kind of social life for my work. For this season of my life, anyway, it’s kind of perfect.
On Tuesday, one of my fellow T.A.s hinted (playfully) that I am arrogant. This is a new concept for me, but it is the second time in the last two weeks that someone has suggested that some endeavor of mine reeks of arrogance. This is odd, because for most of my life the common criticism about me is that I beat myself up too much. I do not think, in this case, that the perceived arrogance is a synonym for “confidence” – which means that I must come off at times as a know-it-all. Maybe it’s just that I like to talk too much about what I’m doing. Who knows . . .
On Thursday, I had my college students recite this line from Seinfeld. I was trying to make a point about tone. It was mildly successful – one class underdid it, the other overdid it. One thing is for certain: I’m running out of ideas. Have I mentioned the class clown yet? In my 7:10 class, there’s this one guy who has established himself as the class clown. He has probably never been the class clown before, so this is clearly a very exciting experience for him. In the past, such efforts were probably discouraged by both classmates and teachers, but I am so desperate to get any kind of discussion going that I usually allow it. Part of his class clown persona involves making me out to be a stuffy, bitter intellectual – a cousin of Dean Wormer in ANIMAL HOUSE, perhaps. So even when I’m saying things like “the point is that you should react however you want to react, not just how you feel I want you to react,” he still finds ways to make me look like a fascist.
I also had a great conversation with one of my students about Metroid.
One of my students lives across the street from former MSU Coach Jackie Sherrill. She got me an autographed coaster: “To Mr. Black.” Awesome. How come when I count my blessings, I don’t count this job and this experience and these students? I should.
Had an interesting talk with Harvey (see: comments) about the nature of this blog. He's still cynical, but I'm going to stick with my solipsistic desire to tell the world every damn move I make. If you don't like it, you'll stop reading, I guess. Maybe I will too.
I finally got around to watching Quentin Tarantino’s DEATH PROOF. For some reason, the powers-that-be (Mirimax, I think) decided (for money, probably) to release the features on different dates. DEATH PROOF came out first. I missed the whole of GRINDHOUSE in the theaters mainly because I don’t have the patience three and a half hour movies, particularly those that are very, very violent. But I was glad to get to see Tarantino’s half alone.
I love Tarantino. Like everyone else who turned 16-18 in 1995, PULP FICTION enlarged my cinematic vocabulary, introduced me to different genres, and forever changed my perception of the limits of film. It was also really, really cool – from Travolta’s big dance with Uma Thurman to smaller moments like when the Bartender tells a feuding Travolta and Bruce Willis, “My name is Paul and this is between ya’ll.” I like everything Tarantino has done, including the joint Rodriguez effort, FROM DUSK TILL DAWN*.
Which is why I was so surprised to find that DEATH PROOF really sucked. I don’t think this is a subjective response; it is just a bad movie. The first thirty minutes or so are pretty good – the scratchy footage and intentional continuity errors are effective in establishing a mood. Kurt Russell is pretty cool and the other characters do seem to exist in the paradigm that QT is drawing from. The soundtrack is, as always, awesome. It’s a dark, shallow world where the characters need a soundtrack to make them matter, and a pervasive grunginess to justify their existences.
But then the movie hops to a setting that, stylistically and thematically, is hardly Grindhouse. The girls are liberated, as opposed to stock, and the bad guy is the equivalent of all those doofuses that wore the Scream mask and were always running into closet doors when chasing Neve Campbell.
The characters invoke VANISHING POINT a lot. That film is a particularly effective piece of highway existentialism – in those films, the road is a fitting metaphor for a never-ending emptiness that makes its own meanings for the desperate characters who travel along it. This film is about hot ass-kicking girls who talk as though every line is scripted. There is an extreme stunt at one point in the film that takes way too long.
My question for both QT and RR: Why set this in modern times, with cell-phones, ALLURE magazine, and a lot of kooky references? Why not set it in the 70s, and go whole hog?
Also, a few thoughts on torture-porn, which GRINDHOUSE contributers Tarantino, Roth, and Zombie are celebrating: I will not watch it. The existence of the genre makes me glad I never followed through on ambitions to become a paid movie reviewer, because I would more than likely have to see the HOSTELs and HILLS HAVE EYESes and SAWs of the cinematic world. I think I’m allergic to this genre, and if that means I will never open myself to what’s coming in film, then so be it.
I finished Ian McEwen’s ON CHESHIL BEACH. It is a very beautiful but very sad little book. No one should be able to write as eloquently and economically as McEwen. It reminded me why I love being paid to teach literature.
(I’m jumping into THIS week – as I’m posting this on Wednesday)
On Monday (9/24), I made the worst grade I’ve ever made in a grad class. It was just a quiz, but I failed – seriously, I got an F. Basically, I made the classic mistake of starting with a flawed thesis and using the text as a proof-text rather than a corrective. It was, to say the least, humbling and, I admit, depressing. It gives me a kick in the butt, when what I need is affirmation. I am going to trust that I can do this, but I am going to have work harder, when I am already working hard.
The incident reminded me of an episode of THE SIMPSONS, and in this case, I’m the Comic Book Guy. The rotund, acerbic nerd goes to a store to complain about a product he’s bought (actually, won – it’s a Star Trek Belt or something, and he’s too fat to wear it) and the Surly Guy who runs the store ridicules him. The CB Guy says something to the effect of, “Oh well, back to my store, where I dispense the insults, as opposed to receive them.”
This is how I feel when I go to Westminster the next day.
A few things I’m going to do in the upcoming month:
- Research a Masters paper on ON CHESHIL BEACH
- Run a 5K
- Re-study for the GRE so I can get a better score
- Speak at the Milton conference
- Westminster Parent/Teacher Conferences.
- Grade a lot of First Year Comp Papers
- Take a midterm in the class where I failed the quiz
So remember the old Abomb.
MOVIES I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT I HAVEN’T MENTIONED:
THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES BY THE COWARD ROBERT FORD
It’s getting awesome advance reviews – comparisons to MCCABE AND MRS. MILLER and PAT GARRETT AND BILLY THE KID. I think both are masterpieces.
I’M NOT THERE
Todd Haynes directed the crazy underrated VELVET GOLDMINE, and now he’s directing an avant-garde flick about Bob Dylan. I’m There. This is my favorite trailer of the year. Despite some middling reviews, I'm still very intrigued.
Just started the book today and read 55 pages during my off-periods. The Coen Brothers are back after their dual duds of THE LADYKILLERS and INTOLERABLE CRUELTY? Praise to the gods!
THERE WILL BE BLOOD
Paul Thomas Anderson’s first movie since PUNCH DRUNK LOVE, which I love like I love certain flavors of Ice Cream and expensive beer that I don’t have to pay for. PTA and Daniel Day-Lewis? Look for me on opening night.
Also, very excited about the new Springsteen album. Let me know if someone can score me an advance copy.
* - Forgot what I wanted to say about DUSK TILL DAWN, but this is some inside baseball Tarantino stuff.... It's weird that they say that movie (dir. by Rodriguez, written by Tarantino) is like two different movies - "one half is Tarantino-esque, the second more Rodriguez." The first half is definitely more Tarantino's wheelhouse: talkative crims in a lot of interesting settings. At the time, RR had only directed two movies - EL MARIACHI and its more high profile remake DESPERADO. So . . . how a movie (or half a movie) about vampire truckers, a lapsed priest, and cons on the lam is Rodriguez-esque . . . is beyond me.
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September 19, 2007
DON'T MAKE ME A TARGET
MONDAY 9/10
Mother died today. Or maybe it was yesterday. No wait, my mother is still alive today, and was yesterday.
Because of my mid-July wreck, I had to skip out on all my morning classes to stand in line at 201 Poplar. It was de-humanizing, to say the least, and horribly impractical, a waste of everyone’s time. After waiting in line for well over an hour, I finally got to the clerk, who asked me if I was going to plead guilty. I was, obviously – I rear-ended someone (who, btw, was very nice about it). They processed me, told me what to pay, and sent me on my way.
Here’s the diz-neal: I’m a teacher. I serve a purpose. They took me away from my job when I could have easily clicked a few buttons on the internet or waited on hold for an hour. It took thirty minutes to get through the metal detector. How is this good for anybody?
In my Textuality class, we discussed sections of Hannah Arendt’s THE HUMAN CONDITION. Arendt wants to do away with the idea of the holy man on the mountain. We only know ourselves through other people. We can only know what our story means when it’s finished, and I think there’s a concept of other people relating this story to us, or about us, in order to make sense of it.
But there’s also a strange idea of power in this – it comes through speech and action. One of my fellow students asked about people who can’t communicate: are they powerless. My teacher argued, no, and pointed out Helen Keller, but I disagree. In this typical move away from Platonic Idealism, there’s another move toward a Superman. Whoever speaks and acts with the most competence will rule the world. Even in Arendt’s more liberal take on Nietzsche, there seems to be no room for depravity or frailty, and no other end-goal than (at best) a benevolent Hitler.
Still, Arendt is fascinating. There’s something compelling in her emphasis on the absolute necessity and indispensability of narratives. When Literature, through narratives, itself is linked to a philosophical system, and nothing less than an explanation for the roots of our embroidered psychologies, the philosopher avoids dogmatism. As a student of stories (or “texts,” whatever), arguments like this are very persuasive; it affirms my choice of career. I can see why my teacher (who is very gifted and got very screwed by the U of M in having his bid for tenure rejected) loves her. There’s something I just ordered the book and plan to read it in its entirety.
TUESDAY 9/11
As you have noticed and will only come to notice more, Tuesdays are my day where I seem to endlessly roll a boulder up a hill, like that ubiquitous Greek semi-god. I have an hour a day where I am not sitting somewhere where I have to be, and can’t be anywhere else.
My teaching theory class continues to be very helpful. I like my fellow T.A.s. We’re honest with each other; there’s not a lot of posturing. We share ideas and respect opinions.
My night classes go smoothly, if not brilliantly. I spend most of the time talking about the difference between a “heuristic” and “algorithmic” approach to writing: neither produces the same result, yet the latter has rigid, confining rules. I think some of them get it, the rest want me to stop giving them pep talks and tell them what they have to do to get an A in my class with as little work as possible. As I’ve said many times, I am really excited about teaching the students who genuine want to write better.
We read a section called “Shitty First Drafts” by Anne Lamott from her wonderful book BIRD BY BIRD. It remains the best book on writing I’ve ever read.
Question about THE OFFICE, which I watch as I go to sleep at night: In the last episode of Season 2, Jim reveals his unrequited love to Pam. Yet Roy does not realize this until midway through Season 3, when he proceeds to attacks Jim. Here’s my question (I’ve since had some students give me some clarification): isn’t the whole conceit of THE OFFICE supposed to be that the filmed proceedings are part of a documentary? Is the documentary being aired? Wouldn’t Roy see this on TV and know about it?
The answer I’ve since gotten is this: This is all material for one big documentary, as opposed to a weekly reality show. This makes sense, as the British version was supposed to be aired after the fact. However, it does make it problematic for the logic of the show, which has over 24 hours worth of footage – how are they possibly going to condense this into a show? On the British equivalent, it made sense that a total of 12 or so episodes would be released, SURVIVOR style. But the reality concept may eventually wear itself out. Am I overthinking this?
WEDNESDAY 9/12
Kind of a crap day. For some reason, I sleep from 10:30 to 3 AM and can’t get back to sleep. I pass the time by alternately rereading Foucault and watching LOST IN TRANSLATION. I guess I viewed the movie more in the negative since my subjective disdain for MARIE ANTOINETTE, but rewatching it, I found the film nearly flawless.
My high school students had their typical mid-week shutdown, somewhat revived by their performance of the Balcony Scene from ROMEO AND JULIET, on an actual balcony (and with males playing Juliet, just as in Willy Shakes’ time). Still, their complacency joined with sleep-deprivation abetted my own mid-week funk.
Then I got to my night class and realized I was wearing two different shoes – one black, one brown. I’d love to tell you about all the hilarious comments and stares I got all night, but I had another pair in my car. Disaster averted, yo.
I gave a presentation on a Structuralist reading of AS I LAY DYING. I think my teacher was skeptical. I also don’t think I understand Structuralism, and pretended like I did. I do love AS I LAY DYING.
Yet I left at 8:30 with a solid affirmation that I am where I need to be, doing what I’m supposed to doing, even though I am worked to the point of exhaustion. I really enjoy what I’m doing, even though it’s a job no one in their right mind (re: me) would want to do. The day ends well, and I sleep well.
Really good news I got today to make up for the crappy part:
Miltonic Sources 4:30-5:45 p.m.
Rosecrans Room
Amy Stackhouse (Iona), Chair
Karla Knutson (Kansas)
“John Milton’s Blurring of Generic Boundaries in Paradise Lost:
The Georgic as a Path to Salvation”
John Mulryan (St. Bonaventure)
“Narratalogical Patterns in Dante’s Inferno 26 and Milton’s Paradise Lost 9”
Andrew Black (Memphis)
“Encomium to Eve: A Gorgianic Reading of Paradise Lost”
THURSDAY 9/13
On Tuesday, I assigned my 1010 classes a hyper-conservative-culture-bashing- talking-head article called WIMPS AND BARBARIANS. Read it if you like; it is, to say the least, provocative. I was worried what how my students would respond, as there are several single mothers in my class – a concept the author stereotypically and uncompassionately associates with all the damn problems in the damn world.
It actually intrigued them and opened them up for discussion. Single Mothers defended their own experiences as single mothers, while many others still argued for the need for some type of paternal authority. A lot of good thoughts, and no one got really mad at anyone else. There was a lot of “that’s a good point, but I think . . .” I’m surprised at the maturity of my students; I guessed that reading books like Tom Wolfe’s I AM CHARLOTTE SIMMONS made me think that all college Freshmen would be sex-crazy internet junkies off the farm for the first time. But this group engaged the text, and brought their own thoughts into a serious dialectic.
This happened in both classes, and it gave me the opportunity to break them up into groups to summarize the article. The second class, in particular, attacked it with a surprising vigor. I wanted to let them out early, but they wanted to finish what they were working on.
I like these guys. I really want to travel back to the “pre-college-teacher” me and punch myself in the face for my arrogance: I truly thought my job would be more of a prison guard than a humanities teacher. But both of my classes have proved me wrong. This was, perhaps, the best day of 2007.
FRIDAY 9/14
Got to relax. A relatively peaceful day.
I observed a fellow student teaching. My initial stupid M.O. was to figure out if he was better than me or not. After five minutes, I found the session instructive, and realized such categorizing is fruitless. He is an excellent teacher, even though I don’t know if he has any teaching experience. I wish I had more time to watch my colleagues teach.
SATURDAY 9/15
Even though Mississippi State is playing on TV, and I knew it would be on, I agreed to a Laser-Tag outing with the Ninth Grade class. You may remember the Ninth Grade: they were formerly the Eighth Grade, performers of the mixed-up fairy tale play of last year. Last year, they were dysfunctional, but this year they like each other. As such, the journey they have gone on makes them more or less my favorite class I ever taught. Sadly, I do not get to teach them this year, so it was fun to play Lazer Tag with them. Lazer Tag is fun for about eight minutes, but the average game goes on for twenty.
Then, happily, the class went to Buffalo Wild Wings (yech) where there were many screens of football (yay!) And I got to see MISSISSIPPI STATE BEAT AUBURN!!!!! It was glorious, to say the least - the kind of football success I haven't enjoyed since we beat Ole Miss and Florida in '05 (only to finish 4-7). This thing in my stomach is called hope. I hope it doesn't give me indigestion.
I finished THE LIVES OF OTHERS, finally. It pulled a huge Oscar upset over PANS LABYRINTH, and rightfully so. It’s a great movie about the murky lines between art, love, and politics, and its East German Berlin Wall setting gives it added power. The performances were spectacular, the filmmaking elegant and understated. The movie doesn’t suffer from what most movies like it have: an unfortunate smattering of artifice. It’s contemplative yet suspenseful. A very good movie for those with the patience for it.
SUNDAY 9/16
I went to a Young Life meeting tonight. The other leaders are all married, and all spent some amount of time in my care as a youth leader. It’s excited to see them getting involved, but it also makes me feel very, very old. The kids who are Seniors at ECS would have been in 6th Grade when I started Young Life. That means that the equivalent of time has passed since I started teaching at Westminster as the time I was 12 until the time was 18. That period seemed like an eternity, where this period feels relatively short.
I reread Arendt and had some different thoughts. I think I overemphasized power earlier in an attempt to dismiss her, when actually what she’s talking about is community.
More to come . . . sorry this is so late.
MUSIC I’VE BEEN LISTENING TO:
Spoon’s GA GA GA GA etc. – Behind CLAP, ARCADE FIRE, and WILCO on my list of favorite albums of the year. I’ve listened to it about six times this week. (Thanks Bethan, by the way)
Josh Ritter’s THE HISTORICAL CONQUESTS OF JOSH RITTER – Speaking of Spoon, this new album is curiously similar – much more upbeat than his previously somber and thoughtful efforts. More piano music. I don’t love it, but I do like it. I’m happy that Ritter is producing an album a year, because he really is one of my favorites.
By the way, for all you keeping score at home, you can read my mostly informational class blog to see what kind of stuff goes on in First Year Comp.
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September 11, 2007
A NEW STRATEGY (THOUGHTS?)
SUNDAY 9/2
I spent a mostly uneventful day reading and grading papers. I realized it would be a light week for teaching, which is providential, because this will probably be the biggest workload I’ll have until the end of the semester. Happily, the semester at the U of M does not coincide with the end of WA.
At night, I went downtown with friends who live in Binghampton. They are a truly unique group and they love their community. I admire them; part of me wants to live there too, but I know I’d never get any work done. This is why I have a (somewhat expensive) “fortress of solitude” – my little green house at the end of a cove. But watching these guys live and hang out makes me wonder if I should have reconsidered this.
It was Delta Fest (or something), and there were a lot of cover bands playing along Main Street. I hooked up with some other friends and enjoyed an unseasonably cool night. The experience reminded me how blessed I am to have so many disparate groups of friends.
One thing I’ve found, however: I cannot stay out past midnight. Maybe a symptom of being thirty, or maybe I am just an old woman.
MONDAY 9/3
Spent most of the day in the sweatbox that it is the unoccupied Westminster building without the air conditioning on. Everything else was closed, so I parked myself behind my desk and graded, read, etc. It was a pleasant day – I slept until about 10 AM, ate breakfast, worked on a story, and went in to work.
To celebrate the last day off I will have until October, I went to the poker room at the Gold Strike. This is something I rarely do anymore; in fact, it’s only the second time I’ve been this year. Most of you know (or at least have heard me say, you may not believe me) that two years ago I won about 2000 dollars playing poker. Two years later, that nest egg is down to about 700 dollars.
Tonight, after a slow start, I was sitting on about 80 dollars playing against an off-duty dealer – these are usually the best poker players you run up against in Casinos; they make brilliant reads, particularly against part-timers like “you’res truley.” I had an AJ diamonds and the flop came out to give me four cards to a flush. She bet at me and I immediately called her. The turn came and didn’t help me – she bet more and I realized I only had about 20 dollars on top of the bet, so I went all-in. This is not a move I make often, even at a home game. I needed one card – a diamond.
And I got it.
I had about one more big hand, but I ended up the night up 100 dollars. It was a nice way to start the year.
(Aside: As I write this, the Titans/Jaguars game is on in the other room. There’s some commercial for a sitcom sitcom that uses the opening whistle riff from a Peter, Bjorn, and John song. Hope that’s making them a lot of money so that can keep making awesome Swede-pop.)
TUESDAY 9/4
A typical Tuesday starts for me at 5 AM and ends at 9 PM. At Westminster, I’m noticeably distracted, which is okay, because I only have two classes before I shuffle off to the U of M. WA has been very good to me in accommodating my schedule. The Eighth Grade classes get study halls on Tuesday; eventually they’ll go to P.E.
I was pretty sure that my Teaching Theory class was going to suck, and was upset when I found out we were actually expected to do assigned reading and write papers. However, after two meetings, the class has been pretty invigorating, and the readings surprisingly insightful. I think it was arrogant for me to have thought I knew how to teach college writing just because of my experience in High School.
I engaged in the project of getting my class to talk. Mildly successful. About 10 students piped up when I asked them to describe their previous English experience; the rest just stared at me as though their intense looks would get them out of class earlier. They are all really excited that they don’t have class on Thursday.
I’m excited about teaching the students who want to become better writers. But no one, and I mean no one, in my class says they want to be a certifiable English major. This makes sense: I didn’t either when I was a Freshman; I just liked writing and reading. My goal remains the same: to make them more confident and competent as writers.
My internet fiction writers group met tonight. Ben Popper, whom I have never met, wrote a really compelling and funny three page story. It pissed me off. He’s a better writer than I am.
WEDNESDAY 9.5
Romeo and Juliet is getting kicking. My Eighth Graders are discovering that Romeo is not a dashing Don Juan, but a mopey teenager who spends his time in the woods coming up with oxymorons to describe his mopiness. I think this makes them like him. As one of my students suggested, “He’s EMO.”
In between Westminster and Literary Research, I hit the treadmill at the Y. Happily, I’m getting faster. I’m running 8 minute miles on the 5k course.
I can’t keep my mouth shut during Literary Research, and make some rather surface conjectures about something called the “shared consciousness” of literature. I really think I’m just talking in these classes to hear myself think. I need to listen more. My fellow students make some wise comments, and I respond by getting everyone off on a rabbit trail.
THURSDAY 9/6
This morning I broke my rhetoric class into three groups and told them to come up with three trends, in an attempt to teach Plato’s EUTHYPHRO inductively. This was a wild idea I came up with after class last night. After some discussion, their trends were:
1. Sashes
2. Robes with Hoods (I suggested simplifying to capes, but they were adamant; this group reads to much wizard-themed literature)
3. Backwards Ties
We talked about how trends come to be trends, and it led to the Platonic question: is it a trend because it’s good, or is it good because it’s a trend? As one of my students said, tellingly, "This was more fun before we started talking about Plato.”
No U of M teaching tonight, as I said. I sometimes suggest, when pressed, that Parents’ Night at WA is a chore, and it’s arbitrary, and I don’t know why I say crap like this. I really like Parents’ Night, mainly because I really like pretty much all of the parents of the kids I teach. They ask good questions and they love their kids. They encourage me, and I can encourage them. I love meeting the parents of new kids who are really distinguishing themselves. I actually wish we could do it more often.
The Colts kicked the Saints’ asses. Either the Colts are really really good or the Saints are pulling that classic “10-6 to mediocrity” stunt.
FRIDAY 9/7
I was dead tired all day. It has been a long week. I look forward to the night, where I can cook a steak and go to bed early. I do both.
I have planned all week on watching THE LIVES OF OTHERS, which incredibly beat PANS LABYRINTH for the Best Foreign Film Oscar. I do nothing of the sort; instead I watch LETHAL WEAPON 2, a gift from my TIVO.
I know this makes me shallow and undisciplined, but I really liked LETHAL WEAPON 2, again. 1989 Danny Glover and Mel Gibson have such an unforced chemistry. The movie is visceral, loud, and involving. It was just what the doctor ordered. I still have the same Netflix movies that I had three weeks ago. Color you surprised.
SATURDAY
Because of the rain, I can’t mow the lawn at my Dad’s building. There are no football games worth watching until night so I go to the library all day.
I finished Frederick Douglass’ MY BONDAGE AND MY FREEDOM. It is, to say the least, amazing. In his updated, unabridged version of his earlier, shorter, more popular narrative, Douglass holds nothing back. When I started back in Graduate School, it was books like this I was hoping to read.
David and Tim’s birthday was tonight. I had a good time. Now all of my friends are turning 30. At one point, I sang a duet of WILD HORSES. It will be probably be best if I don’t talk to any of these people for a few days.
SUNDAY
I skipped Church because I had so much to do. This turned out to be a bad move because I was in a bad mood all day. But I did get work done, even in my (perhaps rain-soaked) malaise. This made me feel good – my mood swings are not going to keep me from getting work done. I spend most of the day convincing myself that I am going to make it through the year without having a stress-induced mental breakdown. I look for lights at the end of the tunnel.
The first episode of season 6 was of CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM was kind of disappointing, but I’m just glad it’s back on. It gives me a nice way to start my week. I will probably call someone a “schmoehog” at least once this week.
In a way, I feel like Travis Bickle, the TAXI DRIVER – don’t worry, I’m not going to rescue prostitutes or plan to assassinate Presidential candidates. But I need my work, even though it wears me out. I look forward to twelve hour days. As Satan said in PARADISE LOST, “The mind is its own place, and can make a heaven of hell and a hell of heaven.” However, I’m convinced that God is teaching me to enjoy this unusual season of work. It’s weird that I’m so happy with it. I go to sleep looking forward to tomorrow, even though I know I’ll get up at 5 AM and go to sleep at 9 PM with only a few minutes to rest in between.
I surge forward to forge the smithy of soul in the uncreated consciousness of my race (or something like that).
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September 06, 2007
ANDYTOWN DOWN
Until further notice.
Reasons:
1) I don't think anyone is reading. (Which will probably be evidenced by the lack of comments)
2) Masters schedule - friggin crazy
3) Trying to do more actual creative writing (snicker)
4) The aforementioned Milton conference
5) Haven't seen any movies, bought any albums, or attended any events worth blogging over, and probably will not.
So if you're the type of person who checks religiously without me knowing, now you know that there won't be anything new. I've been posting really sporadically recently anways, so it's probably not that much of a shock.
Sorry gang, now you'll just have to talk to me.
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