Stay away from the nutcase, dear.
I'm such a literary masochist. I have over ten books to read, and I went out today and bought five more. I hit the bookstore at UBC, and *WOW*. I didn't know it was POSSIBLE for a bookstore to have that great a selection! It puts the three-story Chapters downtown to shame. The textbook section alone made me want to sign up for every course the university had to offer.
We're talking about a bookstore that sells laptops and art supplies. I bow at its doors.
(Speaking of its doors, the unique thing about the UBC bookstore is the vending machine out front. It's one of those candy vending machines you see everywhere, but it was renovated by the students. It now dispenses school supplies. It replaces Skittles with pencils, notebooks, binders, batteries, and even hole-punchers. If that's not awesome, I don't know what is. XD)
Also, I'm starting to hit resistance with my leisure reading. I knew it wouldn't last forever. I can't bring in dozens of controversial philosophy texts without my waaay-too-Christian father breathing down on my neck. Last night I was reading 'The Social Contract' by Rousseau, and wrote a four-page analysis of the first chapter to clarify it for myself. I was really proud of the rational conclusions I came to and the streams of logic I followed, so I wanted to show it to my father to get some feedback on my ideas. Of course, I can't ever show anything blindly to my dad--I have to find out his thoughts on it beforehand, and adjust my wording so we don't hit any bumps... because if we get into an argument about a theory I've proposed, I'll either not be able to defend my idea or be able to defend it a little too well in his eyes... and I don't feel like having my freedom of speech completely crushed and mangled by my dad's restrictions.
So, to be safe, I asked my dad what he thought of Rousseau before I mentioned my essay. Apparently, Rousseau's a blasphemous idiot. Not just that, but every Enlightenment philosopher I could name was also a blasphemous idiot. Dad specifically mentioned Voltaire, which was like a slap in the face to me because I love Voltaire's ideas. Point blank, I can't mention any of my independent studies to my dad... which is a shame, because he knows a lot about philosophy. If I could seperate philosophy from religion in our discussions, we might actually get along. For now, though, the only ideas I can discuss with my dad are physics and dead languages.
My dad's a genius. Really. He knows more about physics and related sciences than most professors, and his theories and teaching methods are amazing. He has shelves and shelves of hundreds of books in every room, and he knows ancient Greek, German, some Latin, and more about recall/recognition psychology and religion than anyone you'll ever meet.
I respect my dad's intelligence. And I know that I'm so much like him at times it's crazy. I've been told by his family members and mom's that I'm like his clone sometimes.
Despite that, our ideas just don't... click.
We're talking about a bookstore that sells laptops and art supplies. I bow at its doors.
(Speaking of its doors, the unique thing about the UBC bookstore is the vending machine out front. It's one of those candy vending machines you see everywhere, but it was renovated by the students. It now dispenses school supplies. It replaces Skittles with pencils, notebooks, binders, batteries, and even hole-punchers. If that's not awesome, I don't know what is. XD)
Also, I'm starting to hit resistance with my leisure reading. I knew it wouldn't last forever. I can't bring in dozens of controversial philosophy texts without my waaay-too-Christian father breathing down on my neck. Last night I was reading 'The Social Contract' by Rousseau, and wrote a four-page analysis of the first chapter to clarify it for myself. I was really proud of the rational conclusions I came to and the streams of logic I followed, so I wanted to show it to my father to get some feedback on my ideas. Of course, I can't ever show anything blindly to my dad--I have to find out his thoughts on it beforehand, and adjust my wording so we don't hit any bumps... because if we get into an argument about a theory I've proposed, I'll either not be able to defend my idea or be able to defend it a little too well in his eyes... and I don't feel like having my freedom of speech completely crushed and mangled by my dad's restrictions.
So, to be safe, I asked my dad what he thought of Rousseau before I mentioned my essay. Apparently, Rousseau's a blasphemous idiot. Not just that, but every Enlightenment philosopher I could name was also a blasphemous idiot. Dad specifically mentioned Voltaire, which was like a slap in the face to me because I love Voltaire's ideas. Point blank, I can't mention any of my independent studies to my dad... which is a shame, because he knows a lot about philosophy. If I could seperate philosophy from religion in our discussions, we might actually get along. For now, though, the only ideas I can discuss with my dad are physics and dead languages.
My dad's a genius. Really. He knows more about physics and related sciences than most professors, and his theories and teaching methods are amazing. He has shelves and shelves of hundreds of books in every room, and he knows ancient Greek, German, some Latin, and more about recall/recognition psychology and religion than anyone you'll ever meet.
I respect my dad's intelligence. And I know that I'm so much like him at times it's crazy. I've been told by his family members and mom's that I'm like his clone sometimes.
Despite that, our ideas just don't... click.