1. The entire seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are now available for instant viewing on Netflix. Why have you DONE this to me, Neflix? WHY? Don't you know that I have FINALS to write?
2. My students have a paper due soon, and they seem to assume that if they talk to/e-mail me enough about it, I will agree to write it FOR them. Sorry, kids. (It turns out, though, that some of them really ARE listening when I speak, contrary to my previous assumption. This discovery is so immensely gratifying that I may begin to actually enjoy teaching because of it.)
3. I am obsessed with a particular song by Yeasayer. How could a song be distracting, you ask? Mostly it's because I want to listen to it ALL the time, but when I listen to it and try to do my reading, my brain fails to absorb things. My mind is weak and easily thwarted, it seems. Also: the video is quite possible the strangest I have ever seen. Why are hipsters from Brooklyn so entirely strange?
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
planets and orifices.
Please, bear with me, and read this passage:
"Upright between the surfaces of the universe, he [man] stands in relation to the firmament (his face is to his body what the face of heaven is to the ether; his pulse beats in his veins as the stars circle the sky according to their own fixed paths; the seven orifices in his head are to his face what the seven planets are to the sky); but he is also the fulcrum up on which all these relations turn, so that we find them again, their similarity unimpaired, in the analogy of the human animal to the earth it inhabits: his flesh is a glebe, his bones are rocks, his veins great rivers, his bladder is the sea, and his seven principle organs are the metals hidden in the shafts of mines."
And now, you are probably wondering: 1. Who the hell wrote this, and whether they are insane; 2. If the word "glebe" is a typo; 3. How the hell anyone gets away with this kind of egregious sentence construction. The answers to those questions are: 1. Michel Foucault, and yes, probably; 2. No (look it up!); 3. Beats me.
What I am really concerned about, though, has nothing to do with any of this; it has to do with the fact that there are not, in fact, seven planets in the sky OR seven orifices in my face. Back when Foucault was writing, Pluto was still a planet, so there should be NINE planets in the sky, and as far as I can tell, there are only SIX holes in my face, since two nostrils really only equal one orifice.
Now, have I simply uncovered a couple silly mistakes here, or have I uncovered Foucault's super secret esoteric message?!?!!!!!!
Sub-question: WHY ISN'T IT SUMMER YET??
"Upright between the surfaces of the universe, he [man] stands in relation to the firmament (his face is to his body what the face of heaven is to the ether; his pulse beats in his veins as the stars circle the sky according to their own fixed paths; the seven orifices in his head are to his face what the seven planets are to the sky); but he is also the fulcrum up on which all these relations turn, so that we find them again, their similarity unimpaired, in the analogy of the human animal to the earth it inhabits: his flesh is a glebe, his bones are rocks, his veins great rivers, his bladder is the sea, and his seven principle organs are the metals hidden in the shafts of mines."
And now, you are probably wondering: 1. Who the hell wrote this, and whether they are insane; 2. If the word "glebe" is a typo; 3. How the hell anyone gets away with this kind of egregious sentence construction. The answers to those questions are: 1. Michel Foucault, and yes, probably; 2. No (look it up!); 3. Beats me.
What I am really concerned about, though, has nothing to do with any of this; it has to do with the fact that there are not, in fact, seven planets in the sky OR seven orifices in my face. Back when Foucault was writing, Pluto was still a planet, so there should be NINE planets in the sky, and as far as I can tell, there are only SIX holes in my face, since two nostrils really only equal one orifice.
Now, have I simply uncovered a couple silly mistakes here, or have I uncovered Foucault's super secret esoteric message?!?!!!!!!
Sub-question: WHY ISN'T IT SUMMER YET??
Thursday, April 1, 2010
a parable.
Last night, my phone died. Kaput, no longer, adios phone. I plugged it in for a few hours, hoping that perhaps the battery would recharge and somehow revive it, but there was no sign of life. The most it could do when turned on was beep, mournfully, bidding me a final farewell as it was drained of its final measure of battery-life.
So I turned the poor thing off, and (begrudgingly) made plans to visit my nearest AT&T store. This morning, in a last-ditch attempt to save myself some money, I plugged my phone in one last time. Five minutes later, it showed a fully-charged battery. Confused, I turned it on, and, holy shit!, it worked. Hello, phone!
And in case you are wondering: I do indeed consider this an Easter miracle. Hallelujah!
So I turned the poor thing off, and (begrudgingly) made plans to visit my nearest AT&T store. This morning, in a last-ditch attempt to save myself some money, I plugged my phone in one last time. Five minutes later, it showed a fully-charged battery. Confused, I turned it on, and, holy shit!, it worked. Hello, phone!
And in case you are wondering: I do indeed consider this an Easter miracle. Hallelujah!
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