Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Stream of Consciousness Post

We watched Closer today. When I got home from zoning at Target tonight, I popped in Franz Ferdinand and then it cycled to The Streets. I feel like immersing myself in UK media and culture. Listen to The Clash and Bloc Party, watch Trainspotting, read... Dickens?

Everything's scattered about in most aspects of my life. I just gutted one of the closets in one of these bedrooms and found a lot of stuff: old t-shirts of junior beta clubs, marching bands, old jobs, latin club, and that one denison marrs shirt that was always a size too small. I found my old essays from high school and beamed for a while, making sure to read over that one essay (which I realized was really awful) that earned me a 10 out of 9 grade. Now most of the contents of the closet are strewn about the room in very unorganized piles.
Music is scattered a bit. I have that programming/loop program that I wanted to work on for phat beatz, I sit down and play piano scales every so often, and I'm trying to hone my guitar/lyrical writing skills to surpass the same standard chords and tired outlooks.
Work at Target is scattered. I only have 11 hours this week, and they didn't even really train me. I'm just in there figuring it all out myself. Which is, okay, I guess.
My memory's getting a bit scattered. When I read through Sedaris's latest book, I went back and flipped through Me talk pretty one day, read through one of the essays, and didn't recall a single thing about the whole book. Like I hadn't even read it before. And I'd read it within the past two years. Sheesh.

Man, this big 2-0 coming up has gotten me thinking about a lot of things that have happened in 20 years. I think back and think many things I've done have been silly and/or a waste of time. But what is a waste of time, really? I'm still living, aren't I? Makes me think of all those old ladies that have worked for Walmart for longer than I've lived. Or all those people in bands (the latest one I can think of is Agnostic Front) who've been playing music together for longer than I've lived. That's a really weird feeling. For all the time I've existed, those guys have been making songs together.

Then, I still have that big chunk of material coming up in life that just has those "???"s labeled on it. I'm taking to this philosophy of just keep doing what I'm doing and letting things fall into place, but I'm afraid I might have to put a limit on the time I spend doing that, and, say, if things haven't fallen into place in 10 years, I should get down to business and make up my mind of what's going on.

Meanwhile, I've really been enjoying Joseph Heller's writing lately. I started in on Closing Time and really like the way he makes characters. Just so amazing. Thinking back to Catch-22, it's stupefying how someone could compose such a work. It's like on the level of a Mozart opera or something. Just sitting there saying "How on Earth?" over and over again. But, for Closing Time Heller traded in all the crazy adventures and quick pace for extended periods of reflections and deep moments, and wonderful characters... just highlighting some of the great things he did with Catch-22 and focusing on different things. So wonderful.

Anywho, that's quite enough personal internet spillage for one night. *Tips hat*


  1. You got a 10 from Hammond? I'd like to know how you pulled that one off.

  2. He changed his grading scale for all of about two weeks to include 10s. No one got them (so he was basically just lowering everyone's grade), and one week there was a semi-difficult prompt involving an essay we had to read. None of us really got it, but I did a decent job, so he read through my essay in class, and at the end said "Well, this is no 10, but you can see where you people need to work towards". Then I got the essay back the following week and it had a small ten on the lower right-hand side.

  3. Haha, I didn't even finish that essay. I was running out of time and I only had three paragraphs, so I split my second body paragraph onto a new page, starting with the phrase "In the end," and trying to make it sound like a conclusion paragraph, when, in actually, I was talking about an example from the literal end of the essay we read, and not summing things up.

    He bought it.