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Truth is a funny thing to think about, isn’t it?  The idea that something can be True forever? Something about the concept of Forever is disquieting, or majestic, or both. Contemplating the idea of an infinity is like standing at the foot of a mountain and looking up–or like standing at the top and looking down.

It’s a mathematical truism that infinity comes in different sizes. This can seem silly or unnecessarily complicated but really…didn’t we already know that? After all, it’s true for time; there are different lengths of eternity which we navigate from day to day.

And yet, despite this, we don’t think about eternity much in the modern day. Eternity, and eternal Truths, seem to have gone out of vogue. Everything is rapidly changing; politics, fashion, the environment, society, math, biology, technology. We harnessed coal and steam and changed the face of the world, but coal and steam did not last forever. We created nations and kingdoms and armies, but those don’t endure. The borders are constantly redrawn. We thought we understood biology–of humans, and of animals–but often enough to be alarming, what we thought we knew about medicine in 2010 turns out to be exactly the opposite.

And, of course, there’s no room for eternity in daily life. When you spend 16 hours awake and 8 of them working, that only leaves 8 hours for everything else; 2 hours to see family and friends, 2 hours to eat, 1 hour to take care of yourself, 1 hour to exercise…that leaves 2 hours for everything else.

The “onward march of progress” has included, among other things, the slow and inexorable hunt and extermination of infinities. Some eternities remain–mostly in pseudo-religious contexts, things that were once sacred and spiritual which have now been secularized. Ceremonies. Holiday celebrations. Communal gatherings. Other eternities survive in the recesses of personal life. Lovers’ trysts. Family gatherings. Deep conversations that start at 2 in the morning and seem to last forever.

The age of eternal truths has ended as well. At the risk of sounding dramatic, postmodern thought has killed Truth. This is not necessarily a bad thing: many empires were founded upon Truth, and the collars of many prisoners were shackled at its altar. But it remains that there are few True things we can attest to.

In the past one might have said “Well, I know very little about the world, but I know I am a Man, and that tells me what I must do!” We’ve since explored more fully what we assume “A Man” to be, and found it not to our liking. As a matter of fact, many of us kill ourselves trying to fit into that definition. So we reject it as Truth and accept it as a guideline–something to steer by, occasionally. But we take no Truth to replace it. We have overthrown the definition which imprisons us, without bothering to find out what it is we should use in its place.

I don’t mean this to sound like an indictment of feminism. Far from it; the feminist movement has been immensely enriching to the lives of all people (yes, including men). But feminism and critical identity theory and postmodern thought have done their work with the enthusiasm of termites, undermining the structures which oppress the population, and leaving very little accessible to us. What remains is a kind of desolation. What values can we embrace, when we know that the ones we grew up with are problematic? How can we anchor ourselves in the world when the words and ways we interact with it are linked so closely to old violence?

There must (I hope) come a response. The purpose of religious ritual is to put us in touch with Eternity: to remind us of our place in the cosmos, and allow us to take part and take pride in the World. The purpose of Truth is to equip us to understand falsehood; as Chesterton said:

“It is ludicrous to suppose that the more sceptical we are the more we see good in everything. It is clear that the more we are certain what good is, the more we shall see good in everything.”

I think that we have really, as a culture, still not fully recovered from postmodernism. It passed over us like a fever; in its wake it left a great many systems cleaner and clearer, and we are closer to good health…but we’re still shaken and scatterbrained in its wake.

G.K. Chesterton writes his book Heretics on this subject. Gilbert is a journalist, a splendid and punchy writer of editorials, and Heretics is, in short, an editorial review of the 20th-century’s Western social and intellectual traditions. Chesterton finds his Truth–his Eternity–in his Christian faith, something we seem to be moving away from, as a species. I ask then, of the West; with what Truth are we to replace it? Skepticism has torn down many dogmas and pointed out that many powerful men have used them to deceive and beguile us. But in the process they pulled down Truth and Eternity with them, and now we have to start over in figuring out where to go, as individuals, and as a species.

That’s the bad news. The good news is, when everything is meaningless, there’s no bad place to start finding meaning. Find eternity in art. In cleaning or building. In coloring. In conversation. Find Truth in laughter, in good company, in helping your friends. Find meaning in everything; especially in the things that mean something to you.


Dr. Q, I would never have been able to articulate this so eloquently had it not been for your course on Empires. So, as (somewhat humorously) promised: here’s one last short write.


What is the purpose of learning? Why bother taking in mountains of information about American Imperialism? Why read the long, long list of books which cover the depressing things that happened to different brown people?

Well, why do we read the page about “how to tie a sheep’s knot?” Why do we read “Fitness For Dummies?” Why take a late-night dance class? The answer here is easier–we want to learn to do something, or to do something better. To plug this answer right in to the original question: Why do we expose ourselves to the horrors of the past? So we can learn to do something.

Why do we learn statistics? So we can be better academics, able to produce and decipher statistical analyses. So why do we study imperialism, oppression, militarism, neocolonialism? So we can be better people, able to understand and explain systems of oppression.

Cynicism cannot be the answer. If you turn away in cynical despair when faced with the knowledge of a new tragedy–if your reaction to Bad Things In The World is just “Of course. Why do I bother asking? Of course bad things happened,” then the knowledge is wasted. Knowledge is power–the power for change. To make use of that power–the knowledge we have come to possess–we must also embrace the moral imperative that comes with it.  To respond to inhumanity with resignation and cynicism is to allow the world to stagnate. With learning and optimism come the single most dangerous thought in the world, the beginning of any quest for change:

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

For me, that is the essence of the activist’s passion. That is why I learn. The more I learn about the bad things in the world, the more I understand their subtleties, the more I can see what can change, what could be different, what could be better. And with the knowledge of bad things past, I can see bad things in the present, experience wholly new things, and see how they could be different as well–because with an awareness of history and a cross-cultural education comes, once again, the idea that I always return to in the course of any social activism, the thing that runs first through my head when I see something wrong, something morally outrageous–because this is why it is morally outrageous, that is why it is wrong, because the status quo is not as fixed as cynics think, and because no tragedy is inevitable, because, in short:

Things don’t have to be this way.

There are a whole host of things that interest me that are the subject of no great focus for academia.

Synchronicity is one of them—meaningful coincidence. A concept introduced by none other than MY MAIN MAN CARL, who was perhaps the king of weird not-quite-science psychology in the early 1900s. (the crown passed eventually to Hillman, who also is a total whackjob of a theorist and whose works I treasure) I rather like synchronicity because it makes it possible to talk about many things which we all notice. The song that comes on the radio at just the right time (a song chosen by an intern we don’t know at a radio station miles away with no reference to our lives whatsoever). Finding the exact right job opportunity just when you decide to change your life. Meeting the perfect person at just the right time in just the right place.

It’s possible to speak synchronicity in the context of other theoretical frameworks. Priming, for example, offers a comforting mechanistic explanation, viewing the human brain as a data-processing machine which utilizes different schema at different times. Looking at it this way, we wear particular cognitive “lenses”, which highlight or downplay details in the world around us (this is how immature people can always pick out a “420” or “69” in a credit card or phone number). When we are “primed” for something (like a gun), we spot it more easily, remain open to it, and are affected by it more dramatically.

Going way over to the other side, we can also talk about Daoism. Like water, if we follow the flow of our life mindfully, without struggling or fighting, then that path will eventually take us to wherever we need to go. When we remain open to the universe, the universe responds—all we have to do is assume the proper place, and the Ten Thousand Things will arrange themselves around us.

(I’ll note here that I’m far from being a scholar of Daoism, and any resemblance between the paragraph above and the actual Daodejing is purely the result of happy mischance)

Where do I go if I want to study that? Where do I go if I want to understand how it is that the “right moment” can be the one we wait for, or can be the one we make happen? Where do I study if I want to explore the many coincidences that make up each human life?  Which university can help me investigate the world around us, and the way that world impacts and is impacted by each person in it?

Sonder is a word I use occasionally—a neologism signifying the moment of realization that your own rich life is surrounded by many equally rich lives, most of which will touch yours only for an instant, only from a distance, as a passing car on the freeway or a plane crossing overhead—but all of which are as intense, complex, and laden with private thoughts and significations.

I turned to Anthropology when I was an undergrad. I thought that by studying the people who study human lives, I could develop a greater insight into human lives. Instead I learned a great deal about the study of human lives. Most of my lessons in humanity have come from extracurricular activities—from long nights spent in dormitory doorways, an endless string of stresses, or soft voices in the dark.

Now I’m finished with college. My (dearly bought) degree sits on the wall of my bedroom in a $12 frame, above my antique Don Quixote headboard and just to the right of my autographed Smaug (a treasure in its own right, one of the Hildebrandts’ great works). I’ve learned a lot about books—my head is full of authors, mostly French, mostly dead—and from them I can trace out most of the index of ideas in my brain.  But I want to learn more.

I don’t think it’s a kind of learning I can get from college. Undergraduate programs in this nation are undergoing rapid decay, with too many factors to be easily listed. The cost of education still rises, even as government programs are shoehorned into place. The “debate” over “political correctness” rages in the academic sphere. Sexual assault plagues universities across the world (but especially in the U.S.). The academic disciplines have turned inward, becoming trade schools for their own practice, teaching students how to teach more students the things that they were taught as students. What counts as academic practice is changing—there is a Right Way to study, and a Wrong Way, and if you choose the Wrong Way, well, how can you really Know anything meaningful? How can you “situate yourself in the literature?”

Don’t get me wrong—college is critical. I wish everyone had the opportunity to attend a university like the one I did. Even in its present condition, the process of going to school, learning a discipline, and graduating teaches you an immense amount about yourself. Many dedicated people work long (underpaid) hours to ensure the continuing quality of education.

I learned a lot. But I wonder now if ultimately, I learned what I wanted.  And I don’t think so. I think learning to understand the world requires a different kind of study—and I want to undertake it. I want to know how it is that coincidences happen—not the simple statistics, but what it means. I want to know why gods of Reason are often sky-gods or sun-gods—what makes Reason the same as Light? Why do we think in analogies and metaphors? Why are we so radically different from one another—physically, emotionally, intellectually, culturally—even if we are so much the same? Why do people who graph onto the same areas of the Myers-Briggs share similar facial structures? How is it we can get a “good feeling” off someone after we have only known them for two minutes? Why do patriarchal systems arise? Why does music exist?

The answers are not purely psychology, or philosophy, or anthropology, or sociology, or statistics, or biology.  But these are the old questions. As a teacher of mine (not just a professor, but a teacher) would say: “These are the big questions.”

I can’t lie; I like big questions. This puts me at an unfortunate impasse with most disciplines—when you practice analytic philosophy, or study depth psychology, in order to survive you must narrow your questions. The scope must shrink to one context, one time, one group, one place, one event.

Case studies are good—I don’t mind looking at one person at a time if I have to (though 7 billion is a lot to go through)—but the door has to swing both ways.

What point is there to the pursuit of the finite, if we cannot use it in contemplation of the Infinite?

Isn’t that the point? We are finite, the universe infinite. We use what tools we have to understand what we don’t know. We can never know the Infinite–it is, somewhat by definition, beyond our reach. But as anyone who’s been in love can tell you, it’s not necessary to fully know an infinity in order to understand it.

I’ll close with the only question I ever really ask–the question I mutter to myself under my breath, speak aloud to random strangers, the question that flits through my head at each new experience:

What does it mean?

Article: “What’s the Point of a Professor?” by Matt Bauerlein

Well, he’s not wrong. These facts are not false. I even agree with the final paragraph, although it seems to come out of nowhere with terrifying speed (the thing almost took my head off!).  My quarrel with this, rather, is (as one might expect from the man who wrote a book about us called “The Dumbest Generation) he’s not looking at the big picture. Here’s where I’d make a joke about English majors, but the thing is, writers are supposed to be well read. You have to know the world to write it well. And I haven’t read this guy’s writing, but he seems to be leaving something out.

Well, several somethings.

Actually, a near-infinite array of somethings, subtly interconnected and inter-relationally constitutive.

A lot of things. What I’m saying is THIS GUY IS MISSING A LOT OF THINGS.

AMONG THEM, how we were raised. Maybe, Professor Bauerlein, you went to college purely because you wanted to learn. Perhaps for you, developing relationships with professors was an entirely intellectual act, devoid of all ulterior motives. (I doubt either of these are the case; but it’s possible).  If so, I envy you, because I never had that luxury. I grew up in a population-dense, competition-heavy world, where to get any job worth having, you needed at least a college degree. To get a job that I wanted—talking about animals, ecosystems, human interaction, psychology, writing, etc.—I knew I’d need another degree after that, or else an extreme measure of luck or intelligence.

I grew up in late capitalism. I grew up knowing that, wherever I was going to want to go, there would be thirty other people there before me, most of them smarter and better qualified, and to keep up with them I would have to be perfect, a glittering diamond of 3.5s and recommendation letters.  I grew up knowing that, no matter how hard I looked myself, I was more likely to get a job from someone I knew personally, because today’s job market is insane, and I have been taught from an early age that if I don’t get mine quick, someone else is going to get it.

That’s hard to pass by. And while I have learned a great deal in college, and I have pushed myself to learn more, and I’ve built great and rewarding relationships with my professors—many students don’t or cant do that. Professor Baurlein points out with a trembling voice that As now constitute 43 percent of all grades. I applaud my peers, if that is true, because they deserve applause. I have seen the world they inhabit—a continual battle with anxiety and scheduling, trying to fit in five courses, all A’s, and work a job (because otherwise they can’t afford the tuition, even with the massive loans, because the price of education has skyrocketed; the cost of college increased by at least 20 percent for private schools, 40 percent for public, from 2011-2012), and maybe an internship, and oh, maybe they can find something to do for the summer, and maybe, if they’re lucky, spend time with friends.

I’ve seen that kill people.

Professor Bauerlein, what your piece seems to be missing, in my humble opinion, is an acknowledgement of the social conditions that have brought us to this place. The lack of relationship-building you describe is only part of the problem—and, frankly, something that is very low on the list of “Things that are Messed Up in the American Economy and Educational System.”  In other words (and again—not surprising from someone who wrote a book on how dumb we are), you don’t know what it’s like.

Further, while I don’t see a word of blame explicitly spoken, I don’t like your tone. “When College is more about career than ideas,” you delicately state. Your word choices throughout the article are a subtle, breathy indictment—oh, these children, they haven’t quite got the point, have they? Don’t they know what they’re doing wrong? Of course I understand, after all, ha ha, I was young once, but still—couldn’t someone show them the right way? “When paycheck matters more than wisdom”—do you know why we count a paycheck higher than wisdom? Do you know why Millenials are overwhelmingly concerned with their financial security? Why 63% of us don’t have a credit card? Why we’re so obsessed with our paycheck?

We saw the world burn, Professor.  For those of us who were old enough to see 9/11, that is almost a literal statement. We saw the recession hit hard, for our parents, for our friends, for our family.  We cut off the big, grand, expensive Christmases. We might not have lost our food, or our water, or our power—but we lost other things. The things you remember. Most of us have always known we were going into a world that is ready to financially dismember us. For most of us, it’s a rush to find a job that will pay you enough to stay afloat (good luck with that on the U.S. minimum wage!), until you can find a job more fulfilling, to make yourself secure, to do well, to be able to retire someday, maybe.

Many of us traded our childhood for the fantasy of financial freedom. Is it so surprising we want the world to deliver? And those 43% A grades I mentioned—I’m glad for that. Because the world expects us to be A students. There are so many of us, and we are coming fast, seeking the slim jobs that exist. We’re smart, and driven, and we travel in packs, wrapped up in 3.5s and 4.0s and flawless test scores, because that’s the minimum requirement. That’s what you need to even be considered—or at least, that’s what we were taught. We stress, slave, and cry over our GPAs. We need those As, the grades that professors naively claim are still pure representations of our skill. False. In our age of information and high educational requirements for employment, we come to colleges–pay colleges–for a commodity. That commodity is a good GPA and a Bachelor’s, and in many cases, our whole future is tied to that degree. Professors are no longer “just” teachers (if they ever were)–you are the gateway to our career. Our life.

So, Professor Bauerlein, I think you should read some history books. And some economics books. Since you’ve apparently written a book looking at generational change, might I suggest you try to explore the factors that play into it? The increasing globalization of our economies. The deep cuts to education and assaults on social support, a time-honored tradition dating back to Reagan.  The rising cost of college (average costs around $30,000 per year for public schools, $40,000 per year for private schools). The depressed (recessed?) economy, increasing pollution, international controversy, social issues–We millenials didn’t just wake up some morning 2002-2011 and say “I’m about to be a freshman—I think I’ll perniciously alter the face of college education!”

I agree with your last point—professors should be mentors. The system should be different. Certainly things will change once we millenials hit the top of the ladder. Professors should take it upon themselves to build relationships with their students. Perhaps, while you’re at it, you should talk to us about something other than our classes. (after all, “There’s so much more.”) Ask us if we’re worried about finding a job (hint: they are, you work in an English department, in an aesthetically bankrupt nation that places writing and the arts somewhere below “pizza delivery person” on the salary ladder). Ask us if we’re worried about our grades. Ask us if we’re losing sleep over the future.

And maybe, just maybe, ask us how you can help?

That’s all.

The other day I was engaged in conversation with some female friends of mine.

This is in itself not remarkable; as most of my friends can attest, I do tend to engage in conversation.

But, as we were talking, we suddenly ended up on the subject of ‘the wingman.’  And I was hit by an unexpected request—to explain exactly what it is that ‘the wingman’ does.


The concept of a ‘wingman’ might not seem to be the most politically correct one.  It gives to the dating scene a bizarre, military overtone that indicates that all steps taken lead up to a single, obvious objective.  There are also ways in which it overlaps with pickup culture, a place I don’t want to spend more time in than I have to.

But, there was the question.  What does a wingman do? What is the difference between a good and a bad wingman?

So setting aside connotations and complications, and looking at the term right now, let’s give this question an answer IN THE FORM OF A BRIEF GUIDE.


[also the title of a lesser-known book series by Diane Duane]

Let’s start with basics.

What is a wingman?
Despite the overtly patriarchal terminology, a wingman can actually be a gender-neutral term.  It is not often utilized as such (and so an argument can be made over actual usage vs. actual meaning, etc.).   A wingman is any reasonably intelligent entity who will accompany you through the process of getting to know another person, whether romantically or platonically.


What is the purpose of the wingman?

To put it in the broadest possible sense, the purpose of the wingman is to manufacture synchronicity.   Or, in English, to make convenient things happen.

Breaking Circles:

Human beings are social creatures.  We form social or conversation circles by habit—you can observe this at any party, at any gathering.  Breaking into these circles is a simple thing—nowhere near as hard as you think—but the wingman’s purpose, in part, is to facilitate that.

The wingman does the heavy lifting of initiating social contact and then quietly bows out, letting their comrade swoop into the opening, whether subtly or obviously.  You may have had this moment in one context or another—asking a friend to “go talk to that person for me so I can come talk to them too.”   This is traditionally one of the purposes of the wingman because, to just about any person on the planet, there is nothing more terrifying than the person you are crushing on.

In other words…

Manufacturing Coincidences:

The wingman’s job is also to make things happen.  If there is an obstacle, the wingman will help overcome it, in a way that is highly contrived but ends up seeming completely accidental.  [#sprezzatura]

This is where the line between wingman and good friend can get blurry; the differentiating element is the shared objective: facilitating some social goal.  For example, if you happen to be really good at playing the harpsichord, good wingmen might take it upon themselves to find a location wherein your harpsichord skills can really shine.

The wingman’s purpose can be likened to stage lighting; to make you look good from whatever angle, at whatever time.  To make sure the audience knows when you’ve entered, and that you’re the star.

Except that the wingman has a final, crucial role that is far more active than a spotlight.

Get Your Lazy A** Out There:

Did you spot that perfect 10? The drop-dead gorgeous human being that makes your knees knock? The most fascinating person you’ve ever seen?

Feel that temptation to flee under the nearest carpet? The jelly in your spinal chord?

The wingman’s job now is to CRUSH THAT and get you back in the game.  To provide the push to go talk to the cute person in the corner.  To remind you that you are actually a sexy beast with a wingman close behind to save you from any awkward situations.

And that, [I hope] is a brief, but accurate explanation of the ‘wingman’ concept.

This isn’t intended to be a guide in a prescriptive sense.  This isn’t what you should do…this is probably just what you already do.

I hope this answers your questions…and if you have further questions, well, there’s a comments section for a reason!




Here’s what’s new:

I’m writing a novel.

My school year is about to start.


MY BLOG, which you know RIGHT HERE, since you’re reading it, is going to be updating on a weekly basis, every FRIDAY.  Or on an eight-day basis if I spazz out on Friday for whatever reason.  This will be happening, and readers, if it doesn’t, you have my permission to give me crap about it.  I’ll be writing about WHATEVER. Usually it will have a topic vaguely related to my favorite learning experience of the week.  That will be fun and cool and I encourage you to stick around, because I’ll be condensing a college-level concept into SMALL WORDS by wrestling with it for an hour and a half and beating it into submission with my keyboard.  Basically you’ll get to learn things for free, and also it will probably be funny, is what I’m saying, so stay tuned for more PHILOSOPHY, PSYCHOLOGY, ANTHROPOLOGY, here are JUNGWILDEANDFREE.

IN ADDITION, here are some other blogs to check out for the new year!

Are you a social-justice minded person? Is Christianity a hot topic for you? Are you confused by LGBT issues and by religion? WELL LOOK NO FURTHER; for clarification on ANY OF THESE SUBJECTS, check out the fantastic, spunky, and so frequently touching  Like my own blog, it is updated sporadically, but she’s been much more regular about it than I have!

NEXT UP IS the phenomenal and indescribable  This blog is run by a poet with a remarkable eye for the artistic and rather a gift for blending poesy and prose.  Her topic, similar to Montaigne, is her own life—and although not every post seems to have a point, there’s food for thought in every one. Check it out!

THIS BLOG was just started recently by a friend of mine, but even the first post crackles right along and is done before you know it.  Like the person behind it, this blog is not easily ignored, and I am waiting on the next post with baited breath.  Head over to and give it a look!

LAST BUT NOT LEAST, this blog has ALSO just started, but it looks promising.  It’s got an interesting concept and only a few posts.  We’ll see how the execution goes over at, but I’m keeping my eye on this one.  Decidedly NOT for kids, though.

MERRY NEW YEAR.  😀  I might not get y’all a post this week because of packing, but I’ll be back for sure NEXT FRIDAY!  So stick around, and check out these other blogs too! You won’t regret it.


It’s an abbreviation I am now seeing almost daily.  Especially now that several friends have gotten T-shirts with that logo emblazoned across the chest.

It stands for National Novel Writing Month, in case you’ve been spending the last few years under a rock (or in another country, which is a far better and more likely option and in fact I envy you).  And it is basically as follows:

November is national novel writing month.

If you want to participate, you:

(1)   Write something.

(2)   Write something during November.

Pretty simple.

Of course, you can register on a website and “complete” NaNoWriMo by writing 50,000 words. And you have to start from scratch—you can’t technically write the actual novel (though you can outline to your heart’s content) until November starts. And things and other stuff.


Announcement 1 is that NEXT WEEK IS A BREAK FOR ME, and I will not be updating my blog THIS FRIDAY (and probably not next Friday, either).

Announcement 2 is that I will be DOING NANOWRIMO and THUS my blog posts will become sporadic for the month of November.


My plan for the novel.

So this year has been an eventful one.  To say the least.  The first year of college, etc., etc.  But throughout the year there have been central themes and a certain continuum of story, especially in the relationship I’ve come out of in the last few months.  The last year represents, in a way, the culmination and termination of my childhood, I think, and so before time steals away the memories and seals away the emotion, I want to commit it to paper.  Or to the computer.  Whatever.

However, I can’t start this project now without violating the rules of NaNoWriMo, so I’ll also be creating a second story (a fantasy/comedy story; imagine Boondock Saints but with wizards) and writing that at the same time.  Because that makes life so much easier.

I don’t know what I’ll do with either novel.  No idea.  I’ll probably try to publish the fantasy, and possibly post excerpts from one or the other here, but the primary story—the story of my last year—will be the first really, fundamentally non-science fiction/fantasy story I’ve ever written.

Possibly no one will ever read it.

HAH.  No, probably not.  My life is more interesting than that.  I hope.

But I’m looking forward to this novel—to both of them.  One because it’s funny and entertaining.  The other because it’s a reminder of everything that’s happened in the last twelve months.  Because as I write it I’ll be able to look back on and reconcile the last trace of the old memories.  I’ll be delving into all my notes, all my journals, all my rumination, and it will be…well, not difficult, because as my father pointed out, things in my life are only difficult relative to other things in my life.  Because as melodramatic as my brain sometimes is (I swear, there’s a thirteen-year-old somewhere in my brain trying to give me angsty advice), my life is pretty easy relative to other people I know.

So if my blog posts start getting spotty, that’s why.  Because I’m writing a novel about life and existence.  About sanity and love, parkour, righteous fury and the nature of existence.  About academia and music.  And brownies. SO MANY BROWNIES.

I’m not writing it to impress anyone.  I’m writing it for me—this first draft, at least.  Later drafts…well, we’ll see.

And my b**** alarm is warning me that I’m drifting too far into thirteen-year-old angsty vagueness again.

It’s a nice thing to have, by the way.  It’s apparently a function not everyone possesses.  WHOOPS DRIFTING INTO ANGST

SO anyway.  This has been your blog post for the day.  It’s a relatively short one, and doesn’t contain too much ranting.  TO SUM UP:

NaNoWriMo: You should give it a try if you’re the writing type.

My blog posts will be interrupted for the next month and a half.



Life runs on (and so does time) and I’ll be back here soon enough.  May everything be wonderful until we meet again.


I’m late.


I realize I don’t have a post for this week, but I promise it’s for a good reason.  Namely, THIS WEEK HAS BEEN INSANE.  A post will be up in the next TWO DAYS on the subject of LANGUAGE, and following it in rapid succession will be the first of a series of posts entitled BROADSIDES, where I research a viewpoint and then proceed to annihilate it with extreme prejudice.