Today was an odd day, heavily tinged with the uncertainties of yesterday. I attended many hours of class, followed by an IR social, followed by a pilgrimage to The Turf.All told, it was a much more enjoyable day than yesterday. I wasn't called upon to present in the core seminar, though Bryony did an excellent job with the topic. While tedious, the quantitative methods lecture covered some good material. The subsequent round table on national and regional responses to American hegemony was extremely interesting, and the IR social event afterwards was good fun. In particular, there were good conversations to be had.
[Content Removed: 29 October 2005]
[Photo Replaced: 29 October 2005]
Speaking with Margaret for a few hours later also did much to make the day a good one.
8 Comments
the 'idealist' sounds more like an 'opportunist' to me!
and as far as humanity is concerned...what to do? first, realise that most of the stuff that people are telling you or representing about themselves are only half truths. Second, you can probably change a few people and a few things in the world. Third, the rest of humanity? just laugh at how ridiculous some people are and don't take it seriously!
that's my prescription, anyways.
since scholarship committees often consider only academic achievements and extra-curricular activities, I am not surprised that some people resort to 'bending the truth' on their applications. after all, such committees do not consider that some of the scholarship applicants have come from privileged backrounds. you know, those that come from good neighbourhoods, have well-off parents, and have strong social connections(I know someone whose father had Canada's minister of health as a character reference)resulting from their socio-economic position.
-V.K.
Dance, Monkeys, Dance
by Ernest Cline
Orbiting the sun at about 98 million miles
is a little blue planet
and this planet is run
by a bunch of monkeys.
Now, the monkeys don’t think of
themselves as monkeys.
They don’t even think of themselves as animals
And they love to list all the things
that they think
separate them from the animals:
Opposable thumbs, self awareness . . .
They’ll use words like
Homo Erectus and Australopithecus.
You say Toe-mate-o,
I say Toe-motto.
They’re animals all right.
They’re monkeys.
Monkeys with high-speed digital fiber optic technology,
but monkeys nevertheless.
I mean, they’re clever.
You’ve got to give them that.
The Pyramids, skyscrapers, phantom jets,
the Great Wall of China.
That’s all some pretty impressive shit . . .
for a bunch of monkeys.
Monkeys whose brains have evolved
to such an unmanageable size
that it’s now pretty much impossible
for them stay happy for any length of time
In fact, they’re the only animals
that think they’re supposed to be happy.
All of the other animals can just be.
But it’s not that simple for the monkeys.
You see, the monkeys are cursed with consciousness
and so the monkeys are afraid.
So the monkeys worry.
The monkeys worry about everything,
but mostly about what all the other monkeys think.
Because the monkeys desperately want to fit in
with the other monkeys.
Which is hard to do,
because a lot of the monkeys seem to hate each other.
This what really separates them from the other animals.
These monkeys hate.
They hate monkeys that are different.
Monkeys from different places,
monkeys who are a different color-
You see, the monkeys feel alone.
All six billion of them.
Some of the monkeys pay another monkey
to listen to their problems.
Because the monkeys want answers
and the monkeys don’t want to die.
So the monkeys make up gods
and then they worship them.
Then the monkeys argue
over whose made-up god is better.
Then the monkeys get really pissed off
and this is usually when the monkeys decide
that it’s a good time to start killing each other.
So the monkeys wage war.
The monkeys make hydrogen bombs.
The monkeys have got their whole fucking planet
wired up to explode.
The monkeys just can’t help it.
Some of the monkeys play to a sold out crowd . . .
of other monkeys.
The monkeys make trophies
and then they give them to each other.
Like it means something.
Some of the monkeys think
that they have it all worked out.
Some of the monkeys read Nietzsche
The monkeys argue about Nietzsche
without given any consideration to the fact
that Nietzsche
was just another fucking monkey.
The monkeys make plans.
The monkeys fall in love.
The monkeys fuck
and then they make more monkeys.
The monkeys make music
and then the monkeys DANCE
Dance, monkeys, dance.
The monkeys make a hell of a lot of noise.
Exhibit A
Monkey making noise.
And when he’s done,
five other randomly selected monkeys
will rate this monkey’s noises
on a scale from one to ten.
At the end of the night,
they add all the numbers up
to see which monkey made the best noises.
As you can see . . .
these are some fucked up monkeys.
These monkeys are at once the ugliest
and most beautiful creatures on the planet.
And the monkeys don’t want to be monkeys.
They want to be something else.
But they're not.
You need to get back out of the habit of just posting whatever comes into your head in the middle of the night or, if you must do so, do it somewhere else.
I agree with all of you, especially B.
Otto: Monkeys don't read philosophy!
Wanda: Yes they do, Otto, they just don't understand it!
A Fish Called Wanda
Of course you have to bend the truth or even blatantly lie in order to get scholarships. On that at least, your Rhodes scholar is right. In fact, part of the Rhodes application process is proving that you can blag and con people. After all, they're looking for the next generation of American polticians.
The new photo is inside the Turf Tavern, isn't it?
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