Sunday, February 26, 2006

Balderdash and utter nonsense

Okay, I'm revoking everything I said in that last post about not blogging this.

I'm getting out of my shyness mode (thank god that's on the way out), incidentally, here at GSU, and being out/getting out of the pathological shyness phenomenon makes me feel much more like myself. Sure, I still get quiet and spacey when I'm thinking about something, but I feel much more ME--and it feels damn good.

Also, I think I'm about ready to start dating again. I'm a little hesitant, and a little unsure, but still.

So, now that I've told you that, let me tell you that this man I'm attracted to intrigues the hell out of me. He's very smart, and he seems to like a number of things which I also like. I am rather unclear on what he thinks of me--I haven't "dated" in quite some time, and I never really "dated" all that well to begin with (I'm a little blunt, sometimes. Oh, that's right, and there's all my ridiculous stories, too.). There may be a possibility that I make him nervous--which is fair enough, really, since he has made me rather nervous myself on occassion.

So I'm not really sure what he thinks of me (if he thinks of me). And since I am at least a slighly more savvy dater than I once was, I try to get a read on someone I'm interested in. (As opposed to when I was younger, and had a tendency to just make my interest apparent, sometimes too bluntly, which had a tendency to startle and disconcert people.)

But I can't really get a read on this, partly because I'm just out of practice. And partly because my recent pathological shyness has prevented me (mostly) from saying or doing anything that could get a readable response.

Men tell me that I'm very intimidating. I'm not entirely sure why this is, but if I think about it really hard, I can kinda see it--because I CAN be rather stand-off-ish at times--which I'm not meaning to do, I'm probably just thinking about something, or chasing some sort of collection of thoughts down before they butterfly off.

What I'm getting at, in my convoluted way, is that now that I'm not so much busy with the shy, and not so much on the hesitation and not being ready for this, I think I'm gonna say something. I'm very curious, and interested in learning more about this man, and really, whether or not he's interested in me or curious about me is only partially the issue. Don't get me wrong, I would certainly LIKE him to be interested in me, but I think we'd also have a great deal of fun just hanging out and drinking beers.

So yeah. That's pretty much the scoop. Stay tuned for the "and he's not interested at all" post, which will be full of sardonic wit and self-deprecating humour.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

I am not Carrie Bradshaw (or, My Notes from Jameson)

I can't do it. I just can't. I want to write about this man and my attraction to him and whatnot, but I watch way too much Sex and the City. And blogging about dating makes me feel too much like Carrie Bradshaw, and then I picture myself in the last season of my own personal dating sitcom, thirty eight years old and and asking the same questions, and I just get depressed.

But I will tell you that Fredric Jameson and Sarah Vowell were both excruciatingly good.

I took four pages of notes on Jameson in my little notebook. I'm going to sketch them out here, and add that we missed the first few minutes because we got a little lost. Also, I would like to point out that A)several of the undergrad Marxists-in-the-making certainly LOOKED the part, however, they neglected to turn off their cell phones. An appropriate ringtone might have amused me, but Chumbawumba did not. B)several people in my vicinity felt that ruffling through their backpacks, and shuffling their notebooks, and crinkling their paper, and creating a low leaf-like rustling were activities which fell into the category of Taking Notes. They were, perhaps, rustling about because words were not magically appearing on their notebooks, and they found this disconcerting. I saw two people actually using pens to write: one was a professor, the second a student next to me, who seemed to be taking good notes, interspersed with drawings of atoms, which I thought was charming. C)several people fell asleep. Although appalled, I thought throwing things at them would create more rustling, and in any case, their cell phones would probably wake them up anyway.

Now, as for Jameson--GREAT speaker. He trails off at the end of his sentences, so I had to, well, not lean forward, as I was sitting on the floor in the aisle, but tilt my head inquistively in an attempt to hear (kinda like how I duck and hunch over in the rain--like if I bend lower, it won't fall on me as much).

What rivets me immediately is that he's talking about temporality. Time, he says, is a construction itself and a construction achieved by narrative. He established a binary of Augustinian temporality and Aristotelian narrative, discussing Aristotle's "natural," chronological time, and Augustine's relation to Heidegger's Dasein.

"There can be no pure phenomenology of time," says Jameson, only representations of history. Time appears alongside movement, and is only seen in the representation of movement. In the intersection of the modalities of time is where Time can be made to appear. (I dug the hell out of that.)

Now, he's got three things on his plate: the three fold narrative structure of Aristotle, the insertion of subjectivity with the transition from happiness to misery and vice versa, and how completeness opens a text to notions of discordance.

He talked about Ricour's essential humanism underlying his text. There was a lot of rustling. Then how Aristotle's and Augustine's notion of time constituted a split between subject and object.

Then, he addressed the matter of taking sides in historical narratives. Narratives are structured in such a manner that they force us to take sides, and reduce history to a struggle of dichotomies.

My notes now say, "capitalism-->issues imperative to think good and evil simultaneously
most productive and destructive"

He discussed asymmetry in the Aristotelian narrative, and the lack of comedic narrative. The general assumption, he says, is that tragedy is worth more than comedy, tradegy is more moral, and more important.

Then the unity of opposites, where the winner loses, and the loser wins. The success story is really the anti-plot. And to go into this further, he goes into politics and narrative, and discusses Quint and the Western oriented myth of literary history. The Epic is "par excellence", whereas Romance uses narrative mechanisms to express non-narrative time--it's episodic, discontinous accounts of experience. Romance must borrow from the Epic to stay afloat, else it would verge on becoming a non-narrative. These two forms are representative of two distinct historical periods: the Epic is the time of victors, the expression of empire and imperialism, while Romance is defeat, the end of history and narrative that "leads to the stubborn silence of the vanquished and the enslaved."

Success is boring, really, he continues, it marks the end of a project, and there's nowhere else to go.

Then he gives a fabulous re-reading of The Aeneid, reading the Trojans as the victors AND the losers, using these binaries he's established and I wrote down nothing because I am enthralled. Just thinking about it makes me change tenses in the middle of my sentences.

Then I wrote "a music made of contradictions" because I really dug that too.

And then he goes into recognition and pathos, and the struggle of disentangling "us" from "them," and the emergence of the collective reality of human history--that the ones holding up the narratives are the slaves, the losers, who are the winners. And how narratives end in pathos because they are bound by class and by exploitation.

Enthusiastic applause.

If that doesn't make sense (since I'm just sketching down my notes), I'll try to correct that in the next blog or so. But now I'm really tired, and I'm driving to Charlotte tomorrow morning. But let me say this: should you have the chance to hear him speak, go. Not only does he say really fascinating things, but I just really love the way he uses language. I think so many theorists get so bogged down in what words "mean" that they forget how words sound. And Jameson doesn't.

Sarah Vowell listens to the sounds of words too, incidentally, but I'll have to get to that next time.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Blogilicious

I'm feeling very much bloggy today. No idea why, really.

And yes, I have heard your demands for my next post (both through my telepathic powers, but also because you likely came up to me at some point today and told me what you wanted to read about), but I am posting on neither of the things I promised. At least not quite yet.

And the reason for that is because I saw Leonard Susskind lecture Friday, and I'm going to see Frederic Jameson on Wednesday, and then Sarah Vowell on Thursday. And really, how cool is that?! I'm so excited!

And at some point this weekend I'm driving up to Charlotte to my brother's pad to meet up with him and my mom for my mom's birthday--which reminds me, I should bake a cake. Maybe a red velvet cake. Hmmmm.

Hopefully I will not be lame and will give details on these lectures--but then again, I never ended up telling you how the clam chowder turned out, did I?

I like . . . theory?

I have class in a few minutes (well, a few minutes+time for a smoke break), and I was contemplating, in my rather non-linear way, my next post. And I decided that I would take a vote, to see what my reading public would like to read about (because it is very important to keep the audience in mind, as we all know). So, without further ado, would you like to read about my meanderings on consciousness, cognition, language, subjectivity, and neurophilosophy? Or would you like to read about my seemingly developing attraction to a particular person?

And now I'm going to go downstairs and smoke.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Wanted: a new theme song

Nothing quite like listening to Zwan when you first wake up. Bless you, Billy Corgan, bless you.

I have made a resolution. This "shyness" thing which I have apparently developed since moving to Atlanta is really annoying. And it's got to go.

Not that I haven't always been a little shy to begin with--a little quiet, a little lost in my own strange and convoluted thoughts--but since I've been here, I find myself frequently stuck in that They Might Be Giants tune (which would be "If I Wasn't Shy," originally a Dial-a-Song moment of brilliance, and later released on Apollo 18). And really, that just ain't my song.

So I am leaving my apt. this morning in search of a new song. And possibly more coffee as well.

Friday, February 10, 2006

One more thing...

Check out Ed's new website--there's a link on the right. It's all new and redesigned, with music!

Frenzy

Apparently I am having a huge blog frenzy at the moment. Not this blog, necessarily, so I thought I would post something here and say hi. The new blog is a knitting blog (yes, I am a knit blogger now) which Miss Jenny and I have just started. But check it out--lots o' yarn and fun!

And really, it's quite hard to type and listen to Ozma. Just so you know.

So, over break, my hard drive crashed. Yes, most of it was backed up. However, in my hurry to get to Richmond, I did not (ha ha) back up last semester. Because I was (notice the tense) a sporadic backer-upper. And my hard drive crashed five days before school started.

Did I panic? Yes. Did I entreat Gateway for help? Yes. Is the hard drive issue resolved, now that it is February? NO. My computer was under warranty, too, incidentally. And I have called Gateway 400,000 times. And they are the devil.

These are things I have been told by Gateway technicians:
"You are really lucky. Usually our hard drives crash every six months."
"Yes, we can send you a hard drive with Windows installed."
"Sure, we can install Windows on your new hard drive."
"No, we cannot install Windows on your new hard drive. It's against our policy."
"No, you cannot keep your hard drive to extract the data. That's against our policy."
"We will charge you $75 for a new hard drive."
"Your invoice for your new hard drive is $168."
"Our hard drives, you know, have manufacturing defects."
"No, you cannot extend your warranty."
"Why do you want to speak to a manager?"
"You have to understand our position."
"..."
"I keep getting sent back and forth between departments. Please hold on. *sigh*"
"I will call you back."

The moral of the story? If you want a computer, get a Mac.