|
there's apples in the trees.
|
|
|
| truth |
[October 28th, 2009|11:50 pm] |
"i am okay with living according to vacuous and maybe really faulty logic, if it leads me to beauty"
- mose |
|
|
| who i am is what i do |
[October 23rd, 2009|02:52 am] |
For the past two weeks, I've been wrestling with moral questions as my work and reading seems to draw me closer to that which I have been circling up until this point: what do I believe? why do I do the things that I do? why am I driven to the particular path in life that compels me? I think I am getting closer to a preliminary answer, a rough draft of my life's manifesto, but let me unwind it.
-------
Last Saturday, a teenage boy was stabbed to death across the street from my house. He was no more than twenty feet from my front door. For half an hour, I sat on the end of my porch, staring at the small white body bag on the sidewalk. Today the spot - and I'll never be able to unremember the place where he died - is covered in flowers and messages. And the sidewalk is covered in stains: not from his body, but from the chemicals they used to wash away the blood. What they used to erase the traces is what ultimately left the most indelible mark.
Tonight I watched Louis Malle's Au revoir les enfants, wherein the protagonist, a young boy living in occupied France, watches his Jewish friend get hauled away by the Gestapo to Auschwitz. I read the essay in the accompanying booklet and found the quote mentioned below. "In that small affirmative gesture can be read a promise, which this film [...] forty years later duly fulfilled.” I read that and found myself appalled. Louis Malle witness something hideous and forty years after his childhood friend's murder, he made a film, and this critic says Malle's film has created a reverent and emotional memorial as though that were enough.
I thought back further to Philip Gourevitch's book on the Rwandan genocide, and the consciousness that attended each step of the West in its avoidance and apathy. That book contained the closest line I've ever found to my defining personal Truth, to my one Way To Be: "Denouncing evil is a far cry from doing good."
And then I drift back to the poor boy bleeding to death on the sidewalk. He died around 10:30 and I didn't get home until midnight or so that evening. If I'd been home I'd have been in the living room, where I'm nearly always stationed, and I would have heard everything. I could have called the cops, I could have (like a nearby lifeguard did) run out to try to save his life. All I can do now is sit here and denounce his murder. What does that really do? Murder was denounced before he died, murder continues to be denounced after he is dead. My words contribute nothing, change nothing, compel nothing. Remembering his death is nothing; others were killed before him and their deaths did not prevent his own. If I had come home earlier, if I had come to his aid, if I had called the paramedics sooner - these things are the only possible source of difference and positive goodness. Memorializing is almost worthless if it is accompanied by passivity.
Art and history matter. We must talk about these evils if we are to form ideas about them, and ways of understand them as a means to guide our action. But it is incumbent upon all of us - not only politicians and community organizers but all human beings - to act upon those moral duties. Just as every human being has a responsibility to conceive a sense of the Good, to talk about what is Right, to denounce what is Wrong, they also have a responsibility to act to make their world better: that is the only source of true Goodness. What we say has no meaning if it is followed with no action. Goodness does not lie in preaching, but in ministering.
This brings me to the first passage below, in which feminists consider a new conception of the Good, and what is the essence of human nature. By abstracting out mutual interest from calculations of rational human behavior, do we in effect construct a world of self-interested actors? If we consign altruism to the aberrational and the irrational, do we passively invite a universe of motivated pursuit? Why do we privilege the rational self-interest over the altruistic in our dominant model of human nature? Why is "self-interest" even rational? If the feminist movement is right and the personal is political, my own experience tells me that I do not care for people only because I expect rewards and reciprocity. It is a pleasure to receive those kindnesses but it does not drive my own caretaking. I do it because I love them and I rejoice in their happiness. Matsuda defines the feminist utopia as "a place without hierarchy, where children are nourished and told they are special, where gardens grow wheat and roses too, where the deside to excel at the expense of another is thought odd, where love is possible, and where the ordinary tragedies of human life are cushioned by the care and concern of others." Here, then, is my political project: to devote my energy to actions which will manifest in any possible way a version of this world, to bring what this life is into what it may also possibly be. |
|
|
| belief system |
[October 23rd, 2009|02:23 am] |
I.
"Feminist theory suggests alternative conceptions...Feminist theory suggests that we can achieve identity of interest on the real-life side of the veil. In that world, people would not be moved solely by self-interst, but also by feelings of love, intimacy, and care for others. They would be in a perpetual state of mutual concern. Rawls begins to consider this possibility when he discusses families and social unions, but his dominant idea is that it is personally advantageous for individuals to join social unions. Feminist experience suggests there is something beyond personal advantage - a collectivist way of thinking that presumes it natural, joyful, and easy to care for others. There is an element of self-interest to this proposition, but it is not a dismal struggle for individual advantage within the merely convenient context of social union that Rawls proposes.
[...]
This leads to another counterassumption, one that challenges Rawls' stern view of what feels good. Achievement, carrying out a plan, excellence feel good to him. Feminist thought, derived through consciousness raising, considers the possibility that humor, modesty, conversation, spontaneity, laziness, and enjoying the talents and differences of others also feel good. Because Rawls imposes a limited viewof what feels good upon the deliberators in the original position, they adopt a limited formula for redistribution. This ignores the possibility that we can take collective pleasure in knowing that there is some rare and fine advantage that only a few can have, and that we can all celebrate when those few are chosen."
- "Liberal Jurisprudence and Abstracted Visions of Human Nature: A Feminist Critique of Rawls' Theory of Justice" Mari J. Matsuda
II.
"Given such moments, Au revoir les enfants - for all its tragic subject matter and its elegiac finale - is anything but depressing. In the last scene, as the three Jewish boys and Pere Jean are led away to their deaths, Jean Bonnet glances back and Julien (a.k.a. the young Louis Malle) raises his hand in timid salute. In that small affirmative gesture can be read a promise, which this film, with its emotional commitment, its richness of incidental detail, and the warmth and lucidity of its regard, forty years later duly fulfilled."
- "Childhood's End" Philip Kemp
III.
"The West's post-Holocaust pledge that genocide would never again be tolerated proved to be hollow, and for all the fine sentiments inspired by the memory of Auschwitz, the problem remains that denouncing evil is a far cry from doing good."
- We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families, Philip Gourevitch |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[October 15th, 2009|12:03 am] |
Winter smoke is blue and bitter:
women comfort you in winter.
Scent of thyme is cool and tender:
girls are music to remember.
Men are made of rock and thunder:
threat of storm to labor under.
Cypress woods are demon-dark:
boys are fox-teeth in your heart.
- Tennessee Williams |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[October 7th, 2009|01:28 am] |
|
I feel I like about 90% of the world more than it likes me. I don't know why that is. |
|
|
| n'oublie pas |
[August 17th, 2009|11:37 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | paris | ] |
| [ | feel |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
One year ago today. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[August 9th, 2009|02:59 am] |
Today as a reminder of what bounty life has brought me, what surprises it is constantly presenting, and what treasures it holds for my future. All my loved ones are tucked away and safe and all the things I ache for will still be possible in the morning. Sleep tight, sweet dreams. |
|
|
| the truth |
[July 31st, 2009|09:11 pm] |
All I ever wanted to be was a combination of these two.
 |
|
|
| amative: disposed to love |
[July 27th, 2009|02:40 am] |
I want to love you while I can, she said, what's wrong with that? And because I had no answer I looked away, and when I turned to leave, lost consciousness and fell. My arms spun over my head, and my body floated there in the dark. I could feel my heart beating slowly, then slower still, until I felt nothing at all. It was quiet, I was happy, I knew I was dying. I heard a voice call to me from far away. I tried to ignore it, but somebody was shouting my name and sounded so frightened, so beautiful and insistent, I had to come back.
Gary Young
Two of the most beautiful months of my life, security and comfort, routine and intimacy, expectant and perpetually grateful. Today I knew instantly when it all ended, when the door between that time and the next closed irrevocably. A wrench inside me, an ache in my belly that has lasted for days, everybody who gives color and meaning in my life will eventually become another vapor trail.
"Santa Cruz just felt so empty! This big emptiness." And then, "August will be awful partly because it is a precursor to June, which I don't even want to think about." She said don't be anxious, but it's so hard. "I want to get everybody that I love to come sit on my bed, where I can keep an eye on them." "I know," she said, "I'm not sure what I want." "I only want the only thing I can't have," I said, because it is always the same: "Come home, little ducklings. It's just me and the sea lions now." And to make me feel better she replied, "bark, bark" and a little gesture brings closer the impossible distance between where I am and where I should be. |
|
|
| and now a brief interruption |
[July 15th, 2009|02:37 pm] |
|
Yeah I'm intimidated by a lot of people and these days I feel uncultured and uncouth but I'm happier than most of those people so at least I'll die with a smile on my face. I'm really tired of people searching for Truth, they're miserable and derive nothing but superiority complexes from their searches. Just because I'm not out there examining all my personal relationships, interactions, thoughts, and feelings for some grand philosophical understanding of the universe doesn't mean I'm a worthless troll Tivo-ing American Idol. And anybody who claims you can't achieve true happiness in this world is just spewing another self-fulfilling prophecy, you sad sack. I need to remind myself that it's only those smug bastards who get me down; I'm doing alright the way I am, pursuing happiness as a real and attainable and immediate possibility in lieu of some vaguely religious search for meaning. THE END. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[July 3rd, 2009|06:17 pm] |
|
Oh my god I love my job so much. I just bought a super deluxe robe on my lunch break. Now I'm going to spend my lunch break wearing it as I nap on the couch. Life is so hard. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[June 30th, 2009|12:24 am] |
| [ | feel |
| |  indifferent | ] |
A loveless year, and now, mercifully, it is done. I am almost afraid, knowing my time in Santa Cruz is limited, to do anything special or time consuming or difficult. The best kinds of people in my life are those who push me to action. Right now my life's metaphor is that I am always willing to go along for the ride but I don't have a driver's license. I feel like I've lost any sense of agency. I spent the past two months floating, it was the only way I could deal with all the pain and stress and loneliness and grief. Now I'm finally better, happier, secure in my home and my friendships. But there's this part of me that can't release or unclench. I want to learn how to grasp life with both fists and go on adventures without looking over my shoulder. I want to sink deeply into my life. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[June 14th, 2009|02:54 am] |
Mmm first proper day of summer. Argued politics with my parents, groomed my dog, hugged my little sister, listened to the Beach Boys the whole drive back. Made money and was useful at work, hung out with Dana and watched The Fugitive, made a list of really good 1970s-1990s action movies to watch this summer (next week: The Rock), drank a bunch of Fat Tires. I feel real good, let's keep this up. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May 28th, 2009|05:59 pm] |
|
I was going to go to class today but I woke up for the fourth straight day with a terrible headache and today's has been the worst of all. I have a lot of things I need to do today but it's 6 PM already and my head hurts so bad I'm trying not to move. WebMD says I either am suffering from tension, caffeine withdrawal, or a brain aneurysm. Considering the quality of my last essay, I'm going with the latter. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May 21st, 2009|01:22 pm] |
Updating from this entry nine months ago,
TEN MORE THINGS WORTH DOING:
51. Missing Dean's birthday party for my grandparents' fiftieth anniversary, seeing my grandfather alive for the last time surrounded by everybody in his life that he loved
52. Throwing that day party.
53. Opening pink champagne under the Eiffel Tower at midnight on my birthday.
54. Wearing ugly platforms to kiss that boy from a proper angle.
55. Cutting class to sleep in next to somebody.
56. Going to the British Library by myself so I could cry without shame at all the treasures.
57. Spending too much money to eat everything I could in Paris.
58. Going to the dog beach.
59. Keeping my promise to myself with a bus ride down the Amalfi coast.
60. Bicycling through the French countryside to visit Claude Monet's house. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May 15th, 2009|12:41 am] |
|
Last night I had a dream where I couldn't breathe. It was torture, over and over again, I'd try to force air into my lungs but it wouldn't work until at long last I was able to suck in whatever I could, keening and desperate. It went on for what felt like hours. I woke up and I didn't know what to think. Was my breathing really stopping in the night? Was my brain telling my body not to breathe even though I was capable of it in real life? Was I really breathing steadily the entire time? This is where I am: it's too hard to even breathe, and even when I can, I can't. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May 12th, 2009|01:24 am] |
|
Even on good days like today there's still this simmering anger and frustration and I can't pinpoint its source. I feel like my quality of life is going downhill. I study and I work and I go to parties with the same four people and I don't do anything else. I was on the bus last week and saw a picture of a woman surfing and thought about how much I've always wanted to try surfing and stunned myself when I remembered that I'm twenty goddamned years old and there's nothing standing in my way. There are all these institutional requirements on me right now that I can't abandon but which at the same time are meaningless. I just want to be really free to do what I want but I'm afraid even if that does happen I will waste it watching television. I don't know what is stopping me from having more adventures, the fact that I'm overworked or the fact that I have a limited view of my own life choices right now. I want to be done with school for good. I need to finish. But when that's done, I'll be free; my first jobs don't need to be permanent or important. I know this sounds like I'm going to end with a cliche statement about needing to find myself after college. But it's not really a question of finding myself. I just want some time to do exactly what I dream about doing without having to be accountable to the wishes or demands of a single goddamn person. I just want to float for awhile. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May 4th, 2009|09:53 pm] |
|
I was on my lunch break eating pizza today when my grandfather died. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[April 30th, 2009|08:20 pm] |
Rather give the world away than wake up lonely
Everywhere and every way I see you with me
All the babies tucked away in their beds
We're out here screaming,
"The life that you thought through is gone"
Can't want out, the ending outlasting the move
I wake up lonely |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
