entirely too much classical philosophy
I've been reading way too much recently that when I stop reading for enough time to go out to eat or do something normal, I feel as though I can't function because I am still stuck in... yes, the Bible at the moment. I read the entire New Testament. I am doing research to see what Plato (or Socrates... or Plato), Aristotle, Cicero, and G-d/Jesus/whatever thought was the ideal citizen of a country. So far I like Aristotle and the Christian views the best. I mean, New Testament = socialism... not really, but maybe. Unfortunately, I'm pretty backed up with all of this talk about the just life and I feel constipated so I probably won't get around to Aquinas. My term paper's topic is to answer the question about what the ideal American citizen is like. I think it's a good assignment. I will be well read for it, I hope.
To get my mind off of this type of thinking, David and I will take a Friday off and go to the aquarium for some fish seeing. Then, Saturday-Monday I will ardently study economics for the test which I have on Tuesday. Tuesday is voting day. I guess I'll vote Democrat as always. I somehow feel bad about that every time.
A funny anecdote: A couple of days ago David asked me to look over his transcript that he brought from Spain to see if everything looked OK (it had to be translated, and he wanted to make sure it all looked normal). He pointed at the bottom of the paper and asked me what an "M.A." was. And I told him, "Master of Arts." He looked at me kind of confused and said "oh, cool, I guess I have a masters." [The Spanish education system is different than ours and he did not know before that moment that he was considered as having both a B.A. and M.A.] One day I will wake up and have an M.A.
To get my mind off of this type of thinking, David and I will take a Friday off and go to the aquarium for some fish seeing. Then, Saturday-Monday I will ardently study economics for the test which I have on Tuesday. Tuesday is voting day. I guess I'll vote Democrat as always. I somehow feel bad about that every time.
A funny anecdote: A couple of days ago David asked me to look over his transcript that he brought from Spain to see if everything looked OK (it had to be translated, and he wanted to make sure it all looked normal). He pointed at the bottom of the paper and asked me what an "M.A." was. And I told him, "Master of Arts." He looked at me kind of confused and said "oh, cool, I guess I have a masters." [The Spanish education system is different than ours and he did not know before that moment that he was considered as having both a B.A. and M.A.] One day I will wake up and have an M.A.