Printemps

Last Thursday I went for an evening run near the beach, and was chased through a playground by a little white dog. It didn’t look capable of causing my any harm, but you never want to take chances. Someone should have put a leash on such a monster. Luckily I picked up the pace and escaped unscathed.

We had one 80 degree day (that’s 27 degrees Celsius for all you Canadians out there), which hasn’t been repeated yet. It’s cold again.

I started a drawing on Friday and finished it last night, which is just a portrait of my friend. I’ll post it here as soon as I get someone to take a picture of it. I also took some pictures of pictures of me, for my art class. Those are in the process of making their way to my computer as well. Perhaps I should acquire a camera…

At the Socrates Café on Tuesday, our topic was: “Selfishness: Virtue or Vice?” My point was that all human action is based on out instincts and that therefore we are all equally selfish (which would then mean that no one is selfish). I gave the analogy of comparing building a house on a group of trees no one cared about, vs. building it on top of a stream that a Native American tribe depended on (not unlike current issues in Brazil happening right now). I argued that building the house somewhere that would disrupt people is no more destructive than killing the trees; it’s just a matter of what types of matter on which you affect change. A couple others directed the conversation to determining what kinds of actions are “selfish” and what kinds are necessary to enjoy life and help oneself. I think this  type of thinking leads nowhere, and is quite a problem if you live a comfortable  life while morality dictates that you live “for others”, as one of the four Jesuit values dictates.

I found myself in Stamford for German school on Saturday, and the class worked on learning the past participle. As usual, all but one or two of the kids have any grasp of the material. At the beginning of the class they play tic-tac-toe, in which one player tells the other which verb to conjugate. The player then picks a pronoun (each of the nine squares has a pronoun) to conjugate it with. I don’t think any of them got a single one right until I gave them the answer.

Then they had an easy quiz. Ken (the teacher) and I try our best to keep them from talking. Naturally we can’t stop it completely, but we know who understands what they’re doing and who doesn’t (plus this is German school, not a college entrance exam, so it’s really not worth sweating over…but I guess the kids don’t really get that).

We read a short German story called “The Salesman and the Elk”, in which a salesman proves his abilities by selling a gasmask to elks in the forest by building a factory there. Then they can’t breathe so they have to buy gasmasks. One of the elks asks him what the factory is for, and the salesman says: “gasmasks”.

Then our class and Eileen’s class (Eileen is the Fairfield German professor) practiced a poem together. Here’s the (original) English version (by Laura Richards):

Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant-
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone-
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)

Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee-
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)

Sunday

Yesterday I ventured into NY to the Whitney once again. I had to find interesting things about which to write my reaction. The pieces themselves are incredibly dull, btu some of the stories behind them are rather interesting. One of the pieces for example was just three long thin wooden blocks, with a plastic-like material making a net. It was probably 25 or so ft wide, and 15 ft tall (just a rough guess). Behind it was some space, and then the wall. That’s it. Then I looked at the title: “Sick Sic Six Sic ((Not)Moving): Seagullsssssssss ssssssssssssssssss” . The 29 year old artist made it as a way of coping with his inability to comprehend the deaths of 6 people he knew.

Another artist is a Native American who allegedly slew FBI agents (I think that’s what the tour guide said). This artist makes and sells paintings from prison, about natural environments in America. The painting I saw was of horses, amid a grassy area, by a river, with pine trees and some snow covered mountains. It looked like something I could have done, with some practice. The horses eye, which is the focal point of it, took some skill. The clouds meanwhile, could have been done by a 5 year old.

Too bad I wore my jacket…it was way too hot. Also I’d forgotten that the particular pear of jeans I’d been wearing do not fit me…so I had to keep pulling them up. These are the grueling challenges I deal with on a daily basis…

I ate a hot dog…walked around central park. On the train home I was privileged to overhear a loud young man (mid 20’s probably) with long hair (and a shirt with a Skateboard logo on it) offer a variety of his philosophical views to his friend (who was audible, but was unfortunately lacking his friend’s fervor and decided to use his indoor voice). I, and any nearby passengers, heard stories about pregnancy, his treatment of female acquaintances, his attitudes in interacting respectably with other young gentlemen, and other such matters. He was just about to explain why he doesn’t “think in the same way as everyone else”, but alas, the train arrived at Fairfield station and I set out to walk back to campus, where the last stretch of my sophomore year of college shall take place.

Except for Easter, which is in like 2 and a half weeks.

Also I have been dabbling into Spanish for the fun of it. I can now say a variety of things such as “Would you like to buy shoes at that store or this one?”, “This book costs fourteen pesos and 15 cents”, and “My husband feels dizzy. Can you call a doctor?” It’s a bit strange that the program I’ve been using uses a male voice for that last one….but gay marriage is legal in some Spanish speaking countries…..maybe there’s some liberal Spanglish conspiracy I don’t know about.

I begin my new course “History of Modern China” tomorrow evening!!! I’m glad I’m finally learning more about the history our current/future economic competitors/bankers. I hope the future sees more Ai Weiweis. Maybe me…minus being Chinese and being detained for speaking out against my government.

Today is Monday, so free* food in Loyola after mass.

 

*My building does the same, only Loyola’s probably has more attendees, and they usually have one or more person sing. Also Bellarmine doesn’t share its post-mass cuisine (pizza) with outsiders.

 

 

Super Tuesday

On Sunday afternoon I ventured over to the Pepsico theatre: a small white building about half the size of a house. At this magical place I bore witness to three plays, performed by fellow students, each of which was a half an hour. The first was about two guys competing over a girl, and while one of the guys wore a tie and had a job and stuff, the other guy had more difficulties. I didn’t quite follow all of it, but basically it had to do with the aftermath of 9/11, and the fourth character was an Afghani woman in the second man’s mind.

The second play began with a boy and girl character. They played their parts well, and as a result it was hilarious (imagine two 20 year olds acting like 11 year olds). The dialogue got a little tedious in my opinion. They later grow up and deal with having had separate lives.

The third play was about a girl whose boyfriend was going into the marines. She gets mad at him about it. At the end he reveals he’s gay.

All of the plays had multiple references to contemporary society, with gratuitous references to Facebook, 9/11, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, and Craigslist.

I looked over and noticed a couple who, about halfway through, were quite fed up with the whole thing. They were the snobbiest looking people I have ever seen. They were just like cartoon characters–especially the husband. He was wearing the stereotypical sweatervest, fancy watch, and expression that seemed to say “I expected a university level performance to be of the utmost highest quality.” …or something like that. They stuck it out, anyhow. I think the wife convinced him to stay, though her expression carried one of annoyance as well.

Tonight was the infamous Socrates Café! The discussion was “Prejudice: Can we think without it?” I’m not sure how or if we ended up answering the question, but we did at one point talk about whether prejudice was simply a matter of recognizing patterns. We also talked about the views the Spanish conquistadors had/may have had about the indigenous peoples of the Americas and vice versa. One of the students there talked about his Mexican ancestry so that made it interesting. Me being me, I brought up the possibility of an evolutionary cause for prejudice (the discussion lingered on racial prejudice,   but there are naturally a million other ways we employ “prejudice” in our daily lives) seeing as I essentially think that evolution pretty much explains just about everything we need to know. As my exceptionally quirky sophomore biology teacher said on the first day: “You gotta get excited about biology. This is everything…it’s life!!!”

But I digress…After Socrates, Fairfield’s improv team, Your Mom Does Improv performed in Loyola (the building I spent half my time, yet I don’t actually live there). They were pretty funny, I give them a solid B+. At one point, they would have 2 people act out a scene based on a word, and then do it again twice using two genres, provided by the audience. Now, because I’m sick and enjoy suffering, I shouted “documentary!”. And they did it!

I’m now writing a play about 2 white blood cells who try to teach a parasite skills and manners. By the way it’s an allegory and they’re actually homo sapiens and neanderthals. The point is to have a play where nothing happens, so eventually all the characters will lose their memories. Coming to a theater near you (*or theatre for my more British fans) hopefully someday, after I eventually add plot, and upwards of 3 pages.

So I guess you could say that my Tuesday was….super. Can’t say the same for Ron Paul  : (