Pervicacious. I loathe it and sadism. Strange, how I just found out its meaning and it fits exactly what I was looking for. Ah well. I guess I'm a bit of a hypocrite in loathing it, but such is the way of man.
Monday, August 16
Sunday, August 15
A Trick from Bonnie
(Heh, if bonnie copies my conversations, I'll do the same thing :). Props to Kelly for the prompt.)
violinest88: can YOU tell me how to get to sesame street?
IndubitablyDyl: Take a left at Weigel's, drive down Bob Dole Blvd
IndubitablyDyl: Now, you're gonna turn right, but you'll think you want to go straight
IndubitablyDyl: DON'T GO STRAIGHT!
IndubitablyDyl: Heaven help ya if you go straight
IndubitablyDyl: So you're gonna turn left
IndubitablyDyl: I mean right
IndubitablyDyl: And after that, there's a U-turn
IndubitablyDyl: Now, you only want to make it an L turn
IndubitablyDyl: Because there's a barely discernible road halfway through
IndubitablyDyl: It's tight, you'll be going 50mph, but you can make it with a bit of grease and luck
IndubitablyDyl: So then you'll drive for, oh say, 3days and find a magical wishing well
IndubitablyDyl: Jump in the well.
IndubitablyDyl: Whatever you do, though, don't drink the water!
IndubitablyDyl: So you're in the well, now you wait for it to rain
IndubitablyDyl: It'll rain, you'll drown, but it's a magic well
violinest88: hahahahaha, the song was just stuck in my head, but thank you for this, i'll make sure to use it when i'm driving to sesame street.
IndubitablyDyl: So your body will get thrown about the underground channels until you turn up in the sewer
violinest88: ...a magical sewer??
IndubitablyDyl: No.
IndubitablyDyl: A dirty, needle ridden sewer
violinest88: that''s too bad.
violinest88: eww icky.
IndubitablyDyl: So you'll end up in a putrid filth hole, or "The City Capital"
IndubitablyDyl: Eventually scavengers will take your clothes and jewelry
IndubitablyDyl: finally, your entire body will be taken for "science"
IndubitablyDyl: After they desecrate it at the local university and post the pictures on their website
IndubitablyDyl: You'll get plopped in the trash
IndubitablyDyl: BAM
IndubitablyDyl: You're with Oscar.
violinest88: oh well that's exciting
IndubitablyDyl: Sesame Street is just in the rich part of Sin City.
violinest88: can YOU tell me how to get to sesame street?
IndubitablyDyl: Take a left at Weigel's, drive down Bob Dole Blvd
IndubitablyDyl: Now, you're gonna turn right, but you'll think you want to go straight
IndubitablyDyl: DON'T GO STRAIGHT!
IndubitablyDyl: Heaven help ya if you go straight
IndubitablyDyl: So you're gonna turn left
IndubitablyDyl: I mean right
IndubitablyDyl: And after that, there's a U-turn
IndubitablyDyl: Now, you only want to make it an L turn
IndubitablyDyl: Because there's a barely discernible road halfway through
IndubitablyDyl: It's tight, you'll be going 50mph, but you can make it with a bit of grease and luck
IndubitablyDyl: So then you'll drive for, oh say, 3days and find a magical wishing well
IndubitablyDyl: Jump in the well.
IndubitablyDyl: Whatever you do, though, don't drink the water!
IndubitablyDyl: So you're in the well, now you wait for it to rain
IndubitablyDyl: It'll rain, you'll drown, but it's a magic well
violinest88: hahahahaha, the song was just stuck in my head, but thank you for this, i'll make sure to use it when i'm driving to sesame street.
IndubitablyDyl: So your body will get thrown about the underground channels until you turn up in the sewer
violinest88: ...a magical sewer??
IndubitablyDyl: No.
IndubitablyDyl: A dirty, needle ridden sewer
violinest88: that''s too bad.
violinest88: eww icky.
IndubitablyDyl: So you'll end up in a putrid filth hole, or "The City Capital"
IndubitablyDyl: Eventually scavengers will take your clothes and jewelry
IndubitablyDyl: finally, your entire body will be taken for "science"
IndubitablyDyl: After they desecrate it at the local university and post the pictures on their website
IndubitablyDyl: You'll get plopped in the trash
IndubitablyDyl: BAM
IndubitablyDyl: You're with Oscar.
violinest88: oh well that's exciting
IndubitablyDyl: Sesame Street is just in the rich part of Sin City.
First Day
If I don't have a doctor's appointment, the first day will be this Tuesday 3:30-5 in Mr. P's room #98. We'll be playing Gin Rummy since it's relatively easy to learn and assemble, and we won't have use of the entire times because I've got to do openning instructions etc.
Requirements:
Roll Sheet (Name, Grade, Favorite Game, abbreviations of days that work the best for you, in case we extend, would you be interested in game tournaments for spades/bridge etc.?)
10 packs of cards (Bring a few if you have any; better to have more than not enough)
Placemats if you don't like sitting on the ground
Set of Rules for the club and game
Tentative schedule for the next weeks; maybe an intro letter
Requirements:
Roll Sheet (Name, Grade, Favorite Game, abbreviations of days that work the best for you, in case we extend, would you be interested in game tournaments for spades/bridge etc.?)
10 packs of cards (Bring a few if you have any; better to have more than not enough)
Placemats if you don't like sitting on the ground
Set of Rules for the club and game
Tentative schedule for the next weeks; maybe an intro letter
Just Sayin'
Joe: So... I heard a rumor that you've come into some money? I'm in a bit of a tight spot myself...
Me: Well, I heard a rumor I kill people.
Joe: ... I've not heard that.
Me: I know. There's no basis for it. Yet.
Joe: Look, a giraffe riding a lawnmower! *runs away*
Me: Watch out for the land...mines. Well, rumors always have some kernel of truth.
Me: Well, I heard a rumor I kill people.
Joe: ... I've not heard that.
Me: I know. There's no basis for it. Yet.
Joe: Look, a giraffe riding a lawnmower! *runs away*
Me: Watch out for the land...mines. Well, rumors always have some kernel of truth.
Saturday, August 14
It's all a bunch of Hooey.
You know, I've been thinking about my SOSE project (the quasi-novel) quite a bit, and if you go to my "Novel Ideas" post, you'll find quite a few spoilers I continually update so I don't forget them. The strangest part is, I had some preliminary ideas that were just a jumble, not interrconnected really, but I'd make them minorly so. Then I had an idea today and all of a sudden, I've got at three three themes and some pretty nice symbolism going on. There are some good ethical questions, some philosophy, conflicting messages, the works.
Unfortunately, it brings up three issues: One, can I pull it off? I think it's got some good, quality ideas. I'm familiar with the emotional parts (misanthropy, despair, idle curiosity, jealousy), and some arguments behind the philosophy and ethical sides. If my writing "skills" are up to the challenge, it might actually turn out pretty good. But, the second issue is that if I can't pull it off, the idea's largely destroyed. Perhaps if I saved it a few years and came back it might be better. Or perhaps I'd have lost interest by then. I don't know. So the final issue arises, what do I want out of this? To even dream of "publication" is pretentious and ludicrous in and of itself. So do I write it, turn it in, burn it out of self-loathing, and think "Yeah, I wrote a novel. It was terrible. That's why I've lost all ambition for anything better than contentment. Spiffy, eh?" Sounds good to me...
Unfortunately, it brings up three issues: One, can I pull it off? I think it's got some good, quality ideas. I'm familiar with the emotional parts (misanthropy, despair, idle curiosity, jealousy), and some arguments behind the philosophy and ethical sides. If my writing "skills" are up to the challenge, it might actually turn out pretty good. But, the second issue is that if I can't pull it off, the idea's largely destroyed. Perhaps if I saved it a few years and came back it might be better. Or perhaps I'd have lost interest by then. I don't know. So the final issue arises, what do I want out of this? To even dream of "publication" is pretentious and ludicrous in and of itself. So do I write it, turn it in, burn it out of self-loathing, and think "Yeah, I wrote a novel. It was terrible. That's why I've lost all ambition for anything better than contentment. Spiffy, eh?" Sounds good to me...
Friday, August 13
Vague Generalities just won't cut the thing.
Heh, you want a specific rant instead of the same general, meaningless complaints? You got it!
Well, today in English apparently Mr. Ross didn't want to do anything very productive. Not that I blame him, but his choice of an "alternative" wasn't exactly what I'd call "pleasant." First off, the activity was rather flawed because I felt like he focused too much on individuals (me) and not enough on everyone else. Now, I'm not bitter about the "spotlight." It's fine, I can handle it (Ellen smiling really helped, though; I was in panic mode). I suppose he called on me first because he had mistaken me for some acting person. I didn't know there were that many emaciated wretches out there; someone ought to feed them more. Anywho, first question was "What are you passionate about?" Well, being a Romantic-Nihilist, the only thing that comes out of the tolerable mean is a way to keep the average alive. When it fluctates in either way, I just can't function properly. Of course, that wasn't good enough for Mr. Ross. Apparently it's a part of my "personality." One of the benefits to such extensive self-introspection is that I'm rather familiar with my ways and manners. And Nirvana help me if I try to make my paltry existence tolerable instead of constantly maneuvering between opposite sides that somehow both manage to convince me I was as well kill myself. The thought occurs entirely too many times, but it passes much more frequently than it used to. Progress. The sort of progress that apparently shouldn't exist because my fickle emotions and philosophies are a part of my nature. No, my wayward preferences are due to the whole "opposite spectrum philosophies" thing, and, of course, the omnipresent fact that I simply don't care. When you don't care about so many things to a significant extent, you find that changing your mind about it really isn't that hard. Bleh.
Then he asks me what are my "hobbies." "Dyl old man," I think to myself, "your only hobby is self-denial and stress. That's not acceptable. You don't really spend much time doing anything that can be labelled with something like a 'name' or 'purpose.' I know, I'll say 'writing'!" Of course, then it occurs to me that I'm ashamed to call myself a writer because in some way it debases the entire profession. Anyway, I really had nothing else to say, so that was it. I immediately felt bad. Poor me. He asks me if I read. Of course I don't read! At my stage it's blatant escapism, and I don't want to steal ideas. For some reason, me not reading other people means I can't plagarize. That's one character for my novel-ish thing: the writer who never reads. You can imagine the parodies that ensue.
He then asks me what I dislike. So, of course, I say "sadism." It defiles both parties, especially physical torment, and you can't prevent it. It's a horrible but all too frequent motivator. But that's not good enough. It sounds too "idealistic." What does he want, "Republicans", "hippies", "Jews"? It's like he held me in contempt for not being truthful, even though I was being honest. What else could I do? It's not possible to despise ideas and behaviors instead of behav...yees?
Meh, I don't really care. It just annoys me when people have presumptive attitudes. I'll take constructive criticism, (it'd be nice if you people would try it sometime), but when you say it with the idea that you are right and no one else can be...
Other classes, beginning to become less frightening. In calculus my brain wouldn't work for the life of me. Better study I guess.
But... it's not entirely grim. We'll see. Goodnight!
Well, today in English apparently Mr. Ross didn't want to do anything very productive. Not that I blame him, but his choice of an "alternative" wasn't exactly what I'd call "pleasant." First off, the activity was rather flawed because I felt like he focused too much on individuals (me) and not enough on everyone else. Now, I'm not bitter about the "spotlight." It's fine, I can handle it (Ellen smiling really helped, though; I was in panic mode). I suppose he called on me first because he had mistaken me for some acting person. I didn't know there were that many emaciated wretches out there; someone ought to feed them more. Anywho, first question was "What are you passionate about?" Well, being a Romantic-Nihilist, the only thing that comes out of the tolerable mean is a way to keep the average alive. When it fluctates in either way, I just can't function properly. Of course, that wasn't good enough for Mr. Ross. Apparently it's a part of my "personality." One of the benefits to such extensive self-introspection is that I'm rather familiar with my ways and manners. And Nirvana help me if I try to make my paltry existence tolerable instead of constantly maneuvering between opposite sides that somehow both manage to convince me I was as well kill myself. The thought occurs entirely too many times, but it passes much more frequently than it used to. Progress. The sort of progress that apparently shouldn't exist because my fickle emotions and philosophies are a part of my nature. No, my wayward preferences are due to the whole "opposite spectrum philosophies" thing, and, of course, the omnipresent fact that I simply don't care. When you don't care about so many things to a significant extent, you find that changing your mind about it really isn't that hard. Bleh.
Then he asks me what are my "hobbies." "Dyl old man," I think to myself, "your only hobby is self-denial and stress. That's not acceptable. You don't really spend much time doing anything that can be labelled with something like a 'name' or 'purpose.' I know, I'll say 'writing'!" Of course, then it occurs to me that I'm ashamed to call myself a writer because in some way it debases the entire profession. Anyway, I really had nothing else to say, so that was it. I immediately felt bad. Poor me. He asks me if I read. Of course I don't read! At my stage it's blatant escapism, and I don't want to steal ideas. For some reason, me not reading other people means I can't plagarize. That's one character for my novel-ish thing: the writer who never reads. You can imagine the parodies that ensue.
He then asks me what I dislike. So, of course, I say "sadism." It defiles both parties, especially physical torment, and you can't prevent it. It's a horrible but all too frequent motivator. But that's not good enough. It sounds too "idealistic." What does he want, "Republicans", "hippies", "Jews"? It's like he held me in contempt for not being truthful, even though I was being honest. What else could I do? It's not possible to despise ideas and behaviors instead of behav...yees?
Meh, I don't really care. It just annoys me when people have presumptive attitudes. I'll take constructive criticism, (it'd be nice if you people would try it sometime), but when you say it with the idea that you are right and no one else can be...
Other classes, beginning to become less frightening. In calculus my brain wouldn't work for the life of me. Better study I guess.
But... it's not entirely grim. We'll see. Goodnight!
Thursday, August 12
"All the lonely people"
I've mentioned it before, but have you ever scanned the archives of someone's journal? It tells a veritable story itself. It's fragmented and you only get snippets of continuing "storylines" here and there, but that sort of adds to the charm. There's also a feeling of "forbidden fruit" to reading a journal uninvited. I suppose, in many ways, it's perverse. But most of the time, if you want privacy it's easily attainable. So my rationale is "it's asking to be read." It's an interesting experience, following the mental paths of others. You gain more insight into their character, their true thoughts and feelings. It often seems to me that I don't know other people too well; their likes, dislikes, character, philosophies etc. Yet, if you've followed their journal, you feel better connected. Especially if they go past the mundane. Once there is something considered "personal", the bond truly begins. What you did today isn't all that worthy of a journal. What you thought and felt, though, that's something. Real emotion is the goal. And when outsiders view that emotion, your character becomes more defined. In a way, it's like mind-reading. Except controlled.
When you really see other people, not their shells with faces slapped on coming out the door (two references to the song, 10 nihilist points for the one who gets it right first), you realize how similiar your feelings are. How many times has suicide occurred to the people you know? How close did their insecurity and depression bring them all the way to the brink? Aren't they as lonely and wayward as yourself? The answer is quite surprising. Sometimes it can give you comfort, to see that you aren't alone. Sometimes that very fact is even more depressing. I think it's evidence that we should get to know each other more. Perhaps not to be afraid of our peers and really see who they are in all their dynamic complexity. It's hard, at first, to let down your shields and expose your soul to the prying, unseen, greedy eyes of your peers. But after awhile, it sort of instills a better feeling of bravery. It's helped me, this journal, to become more confident. I can actually go crazy, know everyone thinks I'm a fool, and think "I may be, but at least I'm not bored or boring." And, for me, I like things to be spiced up. For instance, the other Dillan was alone during the "icebreakers" activity today, and I went up and talked to him. He didn't strike me as the brightest toupee in the wig bin, but he wasn't too bad a guy. People are people. Try to love em all, and really mean it. Maybe I'll learn how too.
Well, first day of school. Even after 13 times, I'm still scared of new classes with new people. Maybe it's the fear of being shown for the sciolist, the pretentious charalatan that I might be. I dunno, I hope I don't come across as supercilious or elitist. I certainly don't feel it. English just sort of brings out the inner egotist in you, as Mr. Ross rather demonstrated (his assessment, not mine). It's sort of odd, add "egotist/low self-esteem" to the list of my personal paradox I suppose. It would appear I can only be one of the other. Maybe I need work on it. If I can average Nihilism and Romanticism, surely that can't be too bad.
Heh, speaking of which, it was rather amusing today when Mr. Ross made a comment about the "dark" nature of the works we'd read. Believe it or not, the thought hadn't occurred to me. I've gone into the depths of nihilism and dark romanticism myself, so maybe everything seems at least a bit light by comparison. Despite my tenuous hold on "good" mental health, I feel as if there are few concepts that could really shock me. What could be worse than "everything is meaningless" and "everything is dark, gloomy, and hopeless?" Indeed, nihilism is very dangerous, but only when it's a result of determinism. Otherwise, it's not too bad. At least, it's easily defeated in the epic war of the philosophies.
Heh, I suppose we'll find out, won't we? Farewell!
When you really see other people, not their shells with faces slapped on coming out the door (two references to the song, 10 nihilist points for the one who gets it right first), you realize how similiar your feelings are. How many times has suicide occurred to the people you know? How close did their insecurity and depression bring them all the way to the brink? Aren't they as lonely and wayward as yourself? The answer is quite surprising. Sometimes it can give you comfort, to see that you aren't alone. Sometimes that very fact is even more depressing. I think it's evidence that we should get to know each other more. Perhaps not to be afraid of our peers and really see who they are in all their dynamic complexity. It's hard, at first, to let down your shields and expose your soul to the prying, unseen, greedy eyes of your peers. But after awhile, it sort of instills a better feeling of bravery. It's helped me, this journal, to become more confident. I can actually go crazy, know everyone thinks I'm a fool, and think "I may be, but at least I'm not bored or boring." And, for me, I like things to be spiced up. For instance, the other Dillan was alone during the "icebreakers" activity today, and I went up and talked to him. He didn't strike me as the brightest toupee in the wig bin, but he wasn't too bad a guy. People are people. Try to love em all, and really mean it. Maybe I'll learn how too.
Well, first day of school. Even after 13 times, I'm still scared of new classes with new people. Maybe it's the fear of being shown for the sciolist, the pretentious charalatan that I might be. I dunno, I hope I don't come across as supercilious or elitist. I certainly don't feel it. English just sort of brings out the inner egotist in you, as Mr. Ross rather demonstrated (his assessment, not mine). It's sort of odd, add "egotist/low self-esteem" to the list of my personal paradox I suppose. It would appear I can only be one of the other. Maybe I need work on it. If I can average Nihilism and Romanticism, surely that can't be too bad.
Heh, speaking of which, it was rather amusing today when Mr. Ross made a comment about the "dark" nature of the works we'd read. Believe it or not, the thought hadn't occurred to me. I've gone into the depths of nihilism and dark romanticism myself, so maybe everything seems at least a bit light by comparison. Despite my tenuous hold on "good" mental health, I feel as if there are few concepts that could really shock me. What could be worse than "everything is meaningless" and "everything is dark, gloomy, and hopeless?" Indeed, nihilism is very dangerous, but only when it's a result of determinism. Otherwise, it's not too bad. At least, it's easily defeated in the epic war of the philosophies.
Heh, I suppose we'll find out, won't we? Farewell!