SKOOL

I'm back! And I'm already feeling so much better about almost everything. Harvard is like this virtual minefield of 1UPs for my mental health, which is great.

Let's talk about starting sentences with conjunctions. And grammar. But not the boring kind. (See what I did there? Ohhh yeah.)

I start sentences (and a ton of fragments) with conjunctions like it's nobody's business--like the dash and parentheses, it's become a huge part of my semi-casual writing style. (This is fun. I like this game.) Despite how natural a construction it seems to me, I never use it in academic writing for fear of getting bitched at by teachers. That's probably fair, and it almost always sounds more formal to work around the constriction and express the thought some other way. But I still like this better.

As always, wikipedia has something to say on the matter: "Many students are taught that certain conjunctions — such as 'and', 'but', and 'so' — should not begin sentences, although this belief has 'no historical or grammatical foundation'.^[1]"
 
Maybe someday when I'm fancy and right reel gud I can bring this back up again and set a bad example for those of younger generations dying to be me. Or not. I just love this example of how grammatical rules exist for a reason, and sometimes that reason is to be stylistically broken to create a certain stronger effect. Should it be abused? No; that's the quickest way to drain the power out of anything. But it's a liberty that creative writing can take advantage of. And I love that.

L

PhiLOLsophy and jets.

Many people love shitting on philosophy because it has the tendency to come across as a luxury, especially in a bad economy, when focus turns toward efficiency and utilitarianism. I think a lot about that, because I firmly believe in the usefulness of philosophy as, not an impracticality, but an essential. I was having a conversation about why I care, an excerpt of which is below. (Note how grammatically lazy I get when I'm IM'ing. My blog readers are lucky they get full sentences, you spoiled tiny group of people, you.) After that I went off on a teeny bit of a tangent and came up with an extraordinarily flawed allegory that doesn't have much to do with phil specifically, though I think I picked up on the stupid idea that one major is more valuable than another, as well as why it's still important to understand the Why's--a huge reason I'm studying what I am.

"me: people form countries with certain ideological purposes and not matter how honest those are, they come into play. in everything. it runs from the top down so a lot of times it gets confusing to identify the sources but the sources do exist. we need systems behind our systems to make things run smoothly and explain why we're doing things, and most people have their own personal philosophies to fill that role. but personal philosophies can't run nations or drive cultures unless they're expanded upon. and if you don't know the ideology, the reasoning, behind the systems, you don't know enough about the systems to make them function like they should. so...I'm in the science of reasons?"

I'm not an aerospace engineer. I do, however, fly in airplanes. I see them as a safe form of transportation and I'm willing to put my trust in them even though I don't understand exactly how one is built, or all the physics that goes into designing or operating one. Why? Someone else does. We don't all need to be engineers because all we really need is to know that the people that are engineers understand and study what's going on. Now, I could decide that engineering shouldn't be a priority because I think that city government is more of a pressing issue. City government could be what gives or takes away my paycheck (yay taxes!), or provides my protection, and I certainly deal with my city government more than I deal with airplanes. In that case, why bother being an aerospace engineer when I could specialize in city law? It would have a more immediate effect. And besides, the airplanes are already built, all aerospace engineers would be doing for a good long while is debating what to add on to them or how to change their designs. We already have the engineers' blueprints for airplanes. We're all set.

Fast forward a few decades. City government has been made a priority, and a specialty in city law is utilitarian and attractive. With such an influx of minds, government on the city level has made huge advances and is a huge achievement for our community. Aerospace engineering, however, has dwindled in its comparative importance. Fewer and fewer people studied engineering until there were no engineers left. Why would they? We have planes. City government is what's really progressing. However, people still fly. For decades they've been using planes that are structurally sound and well-maintained according to previous instructions, but the world the planes are flying through has changed very much, whether because of fuel constraints or changing weather or vastly different customer demands. Much of it has stayed the same, though; people still want to fly to the same sorts of places and will always need bathroom access after that second bottle of Coke. The laws of physics don't change, but countless other variables do. Do you feel comfortable stepping into that plane? Do you think it is acceptable to put your faith in its ability to perform all its functions, knowing that there is no one--no one--who still studies the physics of it and understands the choices that have been made when building it? That plane may have been top of the line and very effective before, but now, decades later, its passengers are essentially stepping into an unknown, because they are trusting the understanding of dead men who based their reasoning on a set of requirements that may no longer exist. Would I get on the plane? I don't know. Most people probably would. I think, though, that I would want to be an engineer.

Update:

Cigars are delicious. Those are exempt, especially enjoyed once a month or so with a friend. Cigarettes are pretty filthy, though.

Smokinnnn'

I don't know about wherever you are, gentle reader (I need to use that more, it makes me feel like Charlotte Bronte), but here at the best school in the country people are being dumbasses. Maybe I missed this, but when did it become cool to smoke again? I think it's because of how sexy lung cancer is. You know, all those black sooty tumors, it's grunge, it's rock 'n roll, it's the new hot thing.

So all the cool kids like to sit outside and smoke. You know, go for it, get that raspy cough you've always wanted. Apparently, it's also cool, though, to haul in that nicotine right in front of the entrances to buildings, rather than walking ten feet out of the way. Instead of keeping that sexy cloud of smog to themselves, all the cool kids share it with anyone who needs to get to a class. Like me. The steadily-declining-already-frustrated-with-her-stupid-respiratory-system asthmatic. You know what else is sexy? Having trouble with three flights of stairs already (so pathetic) and then breathing in a cloud of smoke that just makes it worse.

This leads me to my new hobby: having semi-fake asthmatic coughing fits in front of smokers who piss me off. It actually brings me great joy. Besides, they should get used to the sound; it's something to look forward to in a few decades.

I love this game.

I really, sincerely hope that I never stop getting excited about school.
Let me tell you how I'm doing. I'm waaay over my head in work this week because I have a paper to write during hell week for my dance show and I need to keep up with all the rest of my classes, too. I'm stressed, I haven't gotten enough sleep since the Saturday before last, and I still have to have intelligent things to say about the world and all these readings (that I haven't done) for my 129487 text-based classes. I almost just started panicking because my next class is poetry, and I forgot that my assignment is due the day before class and that I sent it in this morning instead. When I opened an email to apologize to my professor for being a dumbass I realized that today is Monday. Poetry is on Tuesday.
Maybe I should take a nap this afternoon.

And you know what? I was flipping out last night, I was so worried about school and my Latin grade and how the hell I would make it through this week, and then I got back a paper that I wrote for philosophy. I cranked out four pages right before I got on a bus last weekend to go check out a volunteer position at home, and it was a time crunch. I just did the best I could, and I got an A-.

I've gotten As on a few papers so far here, and I reacted the same way to this A that I did to my first--I was so happy. It's the best feeling, finally figuring out how to do something well, being good at something, making progress and watching my grades get better as I figure out what to do. I'm at Harvard University and I'm doing what I can and I'm tired and stressed; but I got an A on a paper, and I think that's pretty kickass.

L

Harvard ROTC

[This isn't a comprehensive argument, nor a perfect one. This is my individual expression of some of the reasons I agree with the reinstatement of the Naval ROTC program at my alma mater, Harvard.]

Finally.
You know, I was starting to get worried that my school wouldn't bring ROTC back to campus.
I was getting worried that my school would condone the bias that exists here against the United States Armed Forces.
I was getting angry.
I was getting angry that my boyfriend, a PFC in the US Army, felt that he was unwelcome on my campus.
I was getting angry at the blatant prejudice he experienced when he came to a school dance in Class A uniform.
A man wearing a dress wouldn't face that kind of opposition here, and he shouldn't. I know that there are members of my school community who would publicly come to his aid if that man felt antagonized at any time.
A man wearing dress uniform should be given no less respect than a man wearing a dress.
Why then, is it wrong for a school to support those students who feel called to defend our country by arms? Many opponents of ROTC forget the distinction between those who fight wars and those who cause them. My school supports Catholic student groups on campus. That doesn't mean that my school condones the actions of the Church during the Spanish Inquisition, or, more recently, rapes of young boys committed by Catholic priests. Many see Church practices as discriminatory against women and homosexuals, as well as many other minorities. Should the Harvard Catholic Center be shut down? This is a flawed metaphor, but it speaks to the belief that the university cannot support students who want to be part of a discriminatory organization. I would like to argue that, if Harvard were to hold fast to this practice, there would be no support left for any students.

The reinstatement of ROTC is not a reinstatement of prejudice against people who identify themselves as LGBTQ. It is the reinstatement of the idea that students who wish to serve their country, bringing a new intellectual, military perspective to their classrooms, deserve recognition. It is a repudiation of the idea that military service is not acceptable at Harvard University. It is not a repudiation of the push for an anti-discriminatory military. In order to continue to argue for the rights of LGBTQ students to bear arms and defend our nation, Harvard can't simultaneously deny support to those already exercising this right. Bias cannot be fought with bias, and cooperation with a military which has continually regarded this institution as an important political force will create more positive change than a blunt insistence that the military must be perfected before progress to reunite two old allies can be made.

I was getting worried that this institution would justify a symbolic spit in the face of today's, and yesterday's, American troops.
When my dad returned home from his stint as paratrooper in the Vietnam War, he witnessed the unacceptable treatment of service people who were vilified by the misdirected anger of the American people.
I applaud Harvard for taking steps to prevent this from happening again.
I am very proud to belong to a school that supports the armed forces, our first line of defense for the freedoms of a country that has always been, in turn, very proud of its first and oldest university.

It's a process.

I've noticed that I go through stages whenever I try to beat a new game on NES. And usually when I say "beat a new game" I usually mean "get past the third level of the games I had been playing since I was seven." Well, in November 2010 I beat the original Super Mario Brothers. It was amazing. I did a victory lap around the yard and sort of gave myself an asthma attack, then got back to my room and realized that I had no idea what the purpose of my life was from that point on. So I decided to keep going.
Super Mario Bros. 3. came home with me from break, as well as the original Legend of Zelda. That gold cartridge probably doubled my nerd cred right there, at least. SMB2 stayed in NH. Because it sucks.
I started playing.
I started swearing.
In that order.

Only tonight after a level of SMB3 from hell (6-5 sucks.) did all of my anger, frustration, and hopelessness seem familiar, familiar enough to systematize into a list.
1. Optimism. "Ooh, this is fun! I enjoy this. It's different. I'm entertained."
2. Mild surprise. "Oh, wow, I didn't see this coming. This is tricky. I'll need to figure this out. But by golly, I'll be darned if it isn't cool."
3. Shock. "Damn this is hard. Do people actually do this?" (that's what she said)
3. Stubbornness. "Well this is a doozy. I'll keep at it for a little while. If I try this, this, and this, I might get somewhere soon."
4. Getting worn down. "Ok, Mario/Link/Character, let's just get to the next level, okay? Can you do that much for me, buddy?"
5. Profanity.
6. Profanity at obstacles.
7. Profanity at characters.
8. Profanity at the fucking flying fish or whatever I happen to be angry at.
9. Profanit-- "Oh, wait. I just did it."

This happens to me every single time.
It does give hope to the impossible though, now doesn't it?

L

FAILRARararararararrrr!

I be SUPER literate.
This is coming the day after I realized that I've been saying "fale" so much that spelling "fail" correctly is becoming an issue.

Excuse me for just spilling all that fail over my blog. Here, let me try to wipe it off a little. Oh, did I just get it all over your shirt? So sorry, how clumsy of me...
Moral of the story: this is not my first fale. Nor would it be my last fale.

You know, I don't think I want it to be.
Here's a secret: I absolutely hate my own failure.  But sometimes some pretty awesome things can happen on the rebound.

Anyways, I'm going to start my next serious piece of writing soon, hopefully. And maybe I'll even do it well =D

L