(no subject)
The New World
Per request, and without the leading word being "Gak!" - simultaneously an expression of despair and/or surprise and a children's toy in the early 1990s, owing it's success to the wild popularity of the Nickelodeon channel, the producers of the gelatin, Flubber-ish substance. The best part was the creative ways you could make it fart, and that distinctive Gak smell.
They call me Ishmael*, yo.
Over the past two days, I've come up with 2 compelling conclusions about my life, or, rather, it's past and it's optimistic future.
1. The Ghost of Lessons Past*
I am forever indebted to Amory High School. Sure, most of it was a joke, but I realize that I was genuinely prepared for what has the reputation of being a pretty challenging liberal arts Freshman year. That's right, I said it, Amory High wasn't a waste of time. Let me rephrase - my last two years weren't a waste of time. Every test I've taken here involved a writing supplement - in short, an essay in anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour. What would seem daunting to ordinary mortals was no problem after taking AP History and English with Coach Millender and Ms. B, respectively. English tests usually involved a similar essay, and I had to write essays like that every Friday with Millender. Not to mention the fact that my writing has improved exponentially over the past 3 years, thanks in no small part to Sha. I wouldn't be doing nearly as well in my classes if she didn't teach me how to write. On the other hand, as far as basic work ethic, the sheer volume of work I have to do, that nose-to-the-grindstone mentality - all cultivated by the joint efforts of Mrs. Black and Herndon, undoubtedly the hardest teachers at Amory, and arguably in most public schools in MS.
2. The Ghost of Lessons Future*
After listening to Pascal Quignard, modern French author, speak yesterday, I realized that I'm a creative sloth. I set all these projects up for myself, but never follow through. I dabbled in creative writing and gave up when I didn't produce masterpieces, and I'm a mediocre musician. I mean, seriously. So, my future goal = greatness. And I should read more. A lot more.
Well... that was strange, but I'm leaving it for posterity. Why do I feel compelled to write something compelling? Part of my hesitance to write is that my life has become a stagnart, albeit hectic and grueling, routine. There's just nothing new. Insightful and witty things just don't happen as much as they used to, when I had time to muse about things. I should muse more often as well. So, in sum, my new life goals are to read, muse, and write more. In that order.
*Shameless literary references - The famouse opening line from Moby Dick (well, sorta) to highlight the fact that this update didn't start with "Gak" like the last one, to the chagrin of one kcarre who mentioned her dislike.
The Christmas Carol. Seriously, do I have to spell that one out for you?
P.S. Philosophy paper got extended. I'm psyched.
Per request, and without the leading word being "Gak!" - simultaneously an expression of despair and/or surprise and a children's toy in the early 1990s, owing it's success to the wild popularity of the Nickelodeon channel, the producers of the gelatin, Flubber-ish substance. The best part was the creative ways you could make it fart, and that distinctive Gak smell.
They call me Ishmael*, yo.
Over the past two days, I've come up with 2 compelling conclusions about my life, or, rather, it's past and it's optimistic future.
1. The Ghost of Lessons Past*
I am forever indebted to Amory High School. Sure, most of it was a joke, but I realize that I was genuinely prepared for what has the reputation of being a pretty challenging liberal arts Freshman year. That's right, I said it, Amory High wasn't a waste of time. Let me rephrase - my last two years weren't a waste of time. Every test I've taken here involved a writing supplement - in short, an essay in anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour. What would seem daunting to ordinary mortals was no problem after taking AP History and English with Coach Millender and Ms. B, respectively. English tests usually involved a similar essay, and I had to write essays like that every Friday with Millender. Not to mention the fact that my writing has improved exponentially over the past 3 years, thanks in no small part to Sha. I wouldn't be doing nearly as well in my classes if she didn't teach me how to write. On the other hand, as far as basic work ethic, the sheer volume of work I have to do, that nose-to-the-grindstone mentality - all cultivated by the joint efforts of Mrs. Black and Herndon, undoubtedly the hardest teachers at Amory, and arguably in most public schools in MS.
2. The Ghost of Lessons Future*
After listening to Pascal Quignard, modern French author, speak yesterday, I realized that I'm a creative sloth. I set all these projects up for myself, but never follow through. I dabbled in creative writing and gave up when I didn't produce masterpieces, and I'm a mediocre musician. I mean, seriously. So, my future goal = greatness. And I should read more. A lot more.
Well... that was strange, but I'm leaving it for posterity. Why do I feel compelled to write something compelling? Part of my hesitance to write is that my life has become a stagnart, albeit hectic and grueling, routine. There's just nothing new. Insightful and witty things just don't happen as much as they used to, when I had time to muse about things. I should muse more often as well. So, in sum, my new life goals are to read, muse, and write more. In that order.
*Shameless literary references - The famouse opening line from Moby Dick (well, sorta) to highlight the fact that this update didn't start with "Gak" like the last one, to the chagrin of one kcarre who mentioned her dislike.
The Christmas Carol. Seriously, do I have to spell that one out for you?
P.S. Philosophy paper got extended. I'm psyched.