12.21.09
12:58 PM - Well, I quit yesterday.
On the whole I guess it went better-- Actually I don't really know. I cant believe I got all weepy. The whole time I just heard myself spewing another emotional, mental excuse to not try harder. That's honestly what it feels like right, despite what everyone, including my rational self, tell(s) me.
I'm dreadfully lonely today. Waking up wasn't as bad as it's been, but I still had to push myself to crawl out of the sleeping bag and into the shower even after sleeping in. I'm a bit backwards right now.
Been thinking a lot about the division of event and reaction and the cycle they represent. For example, you get frustrated with a piece of artwork in progress and destroy it. Then make another attempt but feel that the first was better and maybe you ought not have destroyed it. I think the bet way to see things is divided. There is an event and you can react to it any of a number of specific ways. The event itself contains no intention or instruction on how you show react to it. But that leads me to question. If that event was a reaction itself, then how can it be viewed as unaffected. I don't know, this thought isn't turning out coherently. I do know that we live in a cyclical universe and what goes around really does come around. Might just have to leave it at that for the time being. It's not entirely unlike a line at a mall department store in front of the escalators. Everyone is going to take one of the escalators and either go (react) up (positively) or down (negatively) but they all still start on the same floor with the same event to react to.
In my book,
I was also think a lot about Shakespeare at work yesterday. It was interesting how light and energetic I was able to be knowing that I was walking away from the job at the end of my shift. Whereas before, I felt pensive and hesitant about my every little action there. Pouring over interactions with "guests," trying to read my manager for an impression of my work, hiding when he came around to send people home for the day. But then, when the chips weren't down on the table.. Live every day as if it t'were thy last. I'm chalk full of proverbs today.
Shakespeare occurred to me on the bus on the way to work yesterday. I've always known that acting in any Shakespearean role, you have to consider all the possible meanings of dialogue in order to act them convincingly, but I didn't know why. Then it hit me. The Globe was a very public theatre, as in it attracted mostly the low-life and working class populations of London. Hell, it was even on the wrong side of Thames to be frequented by the normally aristocratic theatre goers of the period. But that meant that Bill was catering to an audience that didn't have the same vocabulary/literary/prosaic education that people do now or that the upper classes did then. What I mean by that is they probably didn't distinguish or flat out know the differences between anomalies in English like there and their. I can even go so far as to venture to guess that few of them could write at that point in time and only knowing the identical spoken version of the words, would have to define them as the same word with two meanings. As opposed to our modern understanding of them as being two separate words sharing only the similarity of sounding the same.
This should illuminate a new understanding of period language where words are nearly exclusively defined contextually. And I think this contextual definition is where we get the acting inclination to pander to all the possible definitions when acting within Shakespearean dialogue. When you begin to understand English from a purely "spoken and not written" perspective, you can see how important the deconstruction of compound (and non-compound words alike) becomes. To define a word like congenial using the same deconstructive/contexualy defining process that Shakespeare's audience must have used, you get a very different definition from the one the textbook gives you. The particle "con" could be referring to trick, steering a boat (conn) and even the more basic deconstructed, animalistic hard "K" sound that conjures concepts of frustration or attack. As in the was one pronounces a "c" using a bit of air, almost as in coughing. "Genial" can be similarly deconstructed using a slightly different method wherein it can be related to similar sounding words. Genital or even gentle can be extrapolated, even if partially false. And in the originally mentioned method: of jeans (clothing, jeanial), of genes (DNA). Put those together and you can have: conjenial (fake jeans), congenial (artificial DNA) or even conngenial (a genetic predisposition to steering boats), all of which share only the similarity of sounding the same. But if learned solely through an auditory means, might be plausible. I would even doubly go so far as to surmise that this was Shakespeare's modus operandi for the creation of new words, for which he is slightly famous.
I would even go so far as to triply venture to guess that you may be thinking to yourself that back in Shakespearean times, that wouldn't have had knowledge of either jeans of genes, and you'd probably be right. But those sorts of red flags should not be taken for face value alone. They should indicate to you both a lack, and an overwhelming presence of timelessness within Shakespearean texts. Because, when defined contextually, words and phrases are exposed to the tests of time. This is a lack of timelessness in that their original meaning is not preserved as the author had intended and a presence of timelessness in that the meaning of his texts can be reinterpreted and are given the chance to evolve so long as English does around it. Take for example the modern slang "ballin'" which has come to mean relaxing, or performing some leisure activity. Although not exclusively defined anywhere (excepting maybe urbandictionary.com), it can be inferred to relate to playing basketball or some other ball-using sport in leisurely manner. And has therefor departed from it's (non-urban) dictionary and fully, in a literal sense, departed from actually involving a ball.
In these ways, one can see how Shakespeare is both a cog and an axle in the constantly turing cycles of the English language. And how his mastery of contextual definition lives on to this day.
Fuck, I must be bored. And if I was really serious about that.. paper I'll call it.. I'd go back through it and change all the one's and you's into one of the other uniformly. And I'd probably have to reorganize a few of the paragraphs and standardize the double quotes too. But.. I'm not. Oh well.
I'd really kill for a girlfriend to move in with right now. Can't believe I'm going to be back on my mom's couch. Living with your parents at 22, thats hot. And all of the other people I could move in with in Shoreline wouldn't be any measure of affectionate or physically comforting. Even though they all would be selfless and accommodating. At least I caught myself, but I still sink into the thought of a universal dichotomy of all people. There are those who will sleep with me and those who won't. And it really does feel like that. No fuzzy boundaries, no consideration of then would they fuck me. I honestly feel like that right now. And it's a rough ratio of umpteen-million:zero. It's nearly 2:30 and I haven't eaten lunch, the afternoon depression must be hitting me.
On the whole I guess it went better-- Actually I don't really know. I cant believe I got all weepy. The whole time I just heard myself spewing another emotional, mental excuse to not try harder. That's honestly what it feels like right, despite what everyone, including my rational self, tell(s) me.
I'm dreadfully lonely today. Waking up wasn't as bad as it's been, but I still had to push myself to crawl out of the sleeping bag and into the shower even after sleeping in. I'm a bit backwards right now.
Been thinking a lot about the division of event and reaction and the cycle they represent. For example, you get frustrated with a piece of artwork in progress and destroy it. Then make another attempt but feel that the first was better and maybe you ought not have destroyed it. I think the bet way to see things is divided. There is an event and you can react to it any of a number of specific ways. The event itself contains no intention or instruction on how you show react to it. But that leads me to question. If that event was a reaction itself, then how can it be viewed as unaffected. I don't know, this thought isn't turning out coherently. I do know that we live in a cyclical universe and what goes around really does come around. Might just have to leave it at that for the time being. It's not entirely unlike a line at a mall department store in front of the escalators. Everyone is going to take one of the escalators and either go (react) up (positively) or down (negatively) but they all still start on the same floor with the same event to react to.
In my book,
I was also think a lot about Shakespeare at work yesterday. It was interesting how light and energetic I was able to be knowing that I was walking away from the job at the end of my shift. Whereas before, I felt pensive and hesitant about my every little action there. Pouring over interactions with "guests," trying to read my manager for an impression of my work, hiding when he came around to send people home for the day. But then, when the chips weren't down on the table.. Live every day as if it t'were thy last. I'm chalk full of proverbs today.
Shakespeare occurred to me on the bus on the way to work yesterday. I've always known that acting in any Shakespearean role, you have to consider all the possible meanings of dialogue in order to act them convincingly, but I didn't know why. Then it hit me. The Globe was a very public theatre, as in it attracted mostly the low-life and working class populations of London. Hell, it was even on the wrong side of Thames to be frequented by the normally aristocratic theatre goers of the period. But that meant that Bill was catering to an audience that didn't have the same vocabulary/literary/prosaic education that people do now or that the upper classes did then. What I mean by that is they probably didn't distinguish or flat out know the differences between anomalies in English like there and their. I can even go so far as to venture to guess that few of them could write at that point in time and only knowing the identical spoken version of the words, would have to define them as the same word with two meanings. As opposed to our modern understanding of them as being two separate words sharing only the similarity of sounding the same.
This should illuminate a new understanding of period language where words are nearly exclusively defined contextually. And I think this contextual definition is where we get the acting inclination to pander to all the possible definitions when acting within Shakespearean dialogue. When you begin to understand English from a purely "spoken and not written" perspective, you can see how important the deconstruction of compound (and non-compound words alike) becomes. To define a word like congenial using the same deconstructive/contexualy defining process that Shakespeare's audience must have used, you get a very different definition from the one the textbook gives you. The particle "con" could be referring to trick, steering a boat (conn) and even the more basic deconstructed, animalistic hard "K" sound that conjures concepts of frustration or attack. As in the was one pronounces a "c" using a bit of air, almost as in coughing. "Genial" can be similarly deconstructed using a slightly different method wherein it can be related to similar sounding words. Genital or even gentle can be extrapolated, even if partially false. And in the originally mentioned method: of jeans (clothing, jeanial), of genes (DNA). Put those together and you can have: conjenial (fake jeans), congenial (artificial DNA) or even conngenial (a genetic predisposition to steering boats), all of which share only the similarity of sounding the same. But if learned solely through an auditory means, might be plausible. I would even doubly go so far as to surmise that this was Shakespeare's modus operandi for the creation of new words, for which he is slightly famous.
I would even go so far as to triply venture to guess that you may be thinking to yourself that back in Shakespearean times, that wouldn't have had knowledge of either jeans of genes, and you'd probably be right. But those sorts of red flags should not be taken for face value alone. They should indicate to you both a lack, and an overwhelming presence of timelessness within Shakespearean texts. Because, when defined contextually, words and phrases are exposed to the tests of time. This is a lack of timelessness in that their original meaning is not preserved as the author had intended and a presence of timelessness in that the meaning of his texts can be reinterpreted and are given the chance to evolve so long as English does around it. Take for example the modern slang "ballin'" which has come to mean relaxing, or performing some leisure activity. Although not exclusively defined anywhere (excepting maybe urbandictionary.com), it can be inferred to relate to playing basketball or some other ball-using sport in leisurely manner. And has therefor departed from it's (non-urban) dictionary and fully, in a literal sense, departed from actually involving a ball.
In these ways, one can see how Shakespeare is both a cog and an axle in the constantly turing cycles of the English language. And how his mastery of contextual definition lives on to this day.
Fuck, I must be bored. And if I was really serious about that.. paper I'll call it.. I'd go back through it and change all the one's and you's into one of the other uniformly. And I'd probably have to reorganize a few of the paragraphs and standardize the double quotes too. But.. I'm not. Oh well.
I'd really kill for a girlfriend to move in with right now. Can't believe I'm going to be back on my mom's couch. Living with your parents at 22, thats hot. And all of the other people I could move in with in Shoreline wouldn't be any measure of affectionate or physically comforting. Even though they all would be selfless and accommodating. At least I caught myself, but I still sink into the thought of a universal dichotomy of all people. There are those who will sleep with me and those who won't. And it really does feel like that. No fuzzy boundaries, no consideration of then would they fuck me. I honestly feel like that right now. And it's a rough ratio of umpteen-million:zero. It's nearly 2:30 and I haven't eaten lunch, the afternoon depression must be hitting me.