So, There I was...

Blatant Advertisement for the Song that, as of this Moment, is Stuck on Repeat (On my Ipod and in my Heart).

Sun, 11 Apr 2010 02:00:00 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful evening. It was dark outside, but the light guitar riff of Two Door Cinema Club was whimsically floating about my dorm room, like lyrical birds flittering through a perfect spring sky.

And then, I realized something:
”In a few weeks, I will get time to realize it’s right before my eyes. And I can take it, if it’s what I want to do. I am leaving, and this is starting to feel like it’s right before my eyes. And, I can taste it, it’s my sweet beginning!

And I can tell just what you want! You don’t want to be alone. [x2]

And I can’t say it’s what you know, but you’ve known it the whole time!

Maybe next year, I’ll have no time to think about the questions to address. Am I the one to try and stop the fire?

I wouldn’t test you, I’m not the best you could have attained… but why try anything? I will get there. Just remember, I know!

And I can tell just what you want! You don’t want to be alone. [x2]

And I can’t say it’s what you know, but you’ve known it the whole time!”

- What you Know by Two Door Cinema Club. Listen to ‘dat bidniz. (To quote a friend: “That song is awesome! It’s bumpin’!”)

When I say “I Realized something,” I mean far more loosely “I heard on an amazing song some words that happened to pretty much sum up everything that has been on my mind for the past few weeks and somehow managed to provide that needed boost and confidence I needed to power me through to the summer months.”

Which is silly, really. You’re probably muttering to yourself “Geez, I thought you were better than that. Getting motivated by some silly indy song you heard on the Hype Machine? Pffft.” And, yes, it is pretty silly. But don’t you see the wisdom behind the song? I mean, there’s a whole bunch there.

And no, I’m not insane. Trust me on this. Let’s work through a few of the key points. Bit by bit. Delicious morsel of wisdom by delicious morsel of wisdom.

”In a few weeks, I will get time to realize it’s right before my eyes.”

- It’s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. Just like it’s far too easy to hike with your head down (and not see the scenery around you), it’s far too easy to let exams and all of that other garbage pile up around you and prevent you from seeing the future. Sometimes, you just have to wait until you have time to look up, to see out from the jail you have imprisoned yourself in, and get a fresh breath. (A new perspective? A new chance? A change of pace? Something.)

“And I can take it, if it’s what I want to do.”

- And, really, you can get that breath of fresh air, if you want to. I know too many people who try to hide behind their “busy schedules”. “Oh, I don’t have time to read/explore things I’m passionate about/ get coffee and ponder/ look at the sunset / cherish the beautiful things around me,” says any Busy-Bee, “because my schedule is full!” Well, maybe you need to do those things. If you want to do it, you can. ‘Nuff said.

”I am leaving, and this is starting to feel like it’s right before my eyes.”

- To be honest, as a college student, I always feel as if I’m leaving. I’ve been a student for less than two semesters, and I’m already feeling like I don’t really have a single place to call “home.” But, in a larger sense, college student or not, aren’t we always leaving? Leaving our past behind? Leaving our mistakes in the meticulous care of our memory so that we don’t falter further in the future? I think there’s a positive sort of aspect behind that all. If we see that, don’t we also see how the future is wide open, simply ready to greet us with good tidings and success, if we only try?

“And, I can taste it, it’s my sweet beginning!”

- Isn’t that just what it is? A sweet new future, just waiting to be gobbled up?

“And I can tell just what you want! You don’t want to be alone. [x2]

And I can’t say it’s what you know, but you’ve known it the whole time!”

- Duh. I don’t need to explain that bit. Who really wants to be alone?

“Maybe next year, I’ll have no time to think about the questions to address.”

- Maybe next year, I won’t waste my time asking questions that never need to be asked. Maybe I won’t waste my time worrying or over-thinking or over-analyzing or dreaming of things that can never happen.

“Am I the one to try and stop the fire?”

-For me, that’s one of those questions. But, more generally, do I have to fix everyone’s problems? Do I have to save the world? Or, do I just need to live life happily and compassionately?

“I wouldn’t test you, I’m not the best you could have attained… ”

- Really, though. I can’t expect anything more from you than what I’d expect from myself. Doing so would be seriously unfair. Besides, I’m not the best either. I have problems, flaws… but fortunately, we all do.

“But why try anything? I will get there.”

- “But, why try anything,” asks the pessimist. “I will get there,” replies the optimist.

(See? Pretty deep stuff right there. I told you so!)

That’s all, for now. Go enjoy some good music. (Let me know if you find anything wonderful!)
Yours,

Tom.

Ah! I get it now!

Wed, 07 Apr 2010 22:44:29 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful evening. The little crooked lamp outside my window was shining brightly (New LED-licious bulb, apparently), and I had just sit down with a delicious toffee-and-almondy bit of Hershey’s (Delicious, despite the Hershey process. Look it up.) I figured I’d get some writing done. (And so here you are: Reading what I’ve written.)

At any rate:

I love that feeling when you finally understand something. Before, you didn’t get it. It was some senseless bit of magic that resisted all attempts to be comprehended, like a delicious morsel (both commanding your desire and demanding your concentration) lurking just beyond your reach.

And, then, at some singular moment, it all makes sense. The pieces of the puzzle fall together, as if some invisible hand (your mind) has assembled them. The patterns and questions and condundrums all seem to resolve themselves, in an instant. But of course, knowing one thing merely opens up more questions, more avenues of inquiry, and you’re off to repeat the process.

—-

One of my bat-shit insane professors would invoke Csíkszentmihályi and suggest that this sort of thing is the achievement of a state of “flow.” In all honesty, I don’t buy that new-agey garbage. Flow isn’t some sort of “enhanced state” of “better life experience.” While I’m happy for positive psychology (and entertained by an interesting critique of it mentioned in Chris Hedge’s Empire Of Illusion [Stop reading here if you don’t buy left-wing garbage, or see no value in entertaining its notions for at least a moment.] which argues that positive psych is an extension of the simulacura/representation/illusurory nature of late capitalism which not only seems to be an extension of positivist categorization of experience but is also an attempt for capital to try and colonize and control the minds of consumers/citizens/workers. [Okay, the coast is clear, conservatives and closed-minded comrades. It’s safe to keep reading.] ) , and I’d love to let it finish, I think it’s a bit off base. It’s a keen idea, and I’ll gladly agree that I have experienced states of “flow” and being “in the groove” with “my head in the game”, but I will not concede any of the other garbage about how I should try to pursue those states like it’s the god of some new-age religion.

—-

There’s something genuinely cool about that. I feel that, in a certain sense, we try and deform learning into a singular process. “If you take this class, you will have learned X. Once you have learned X and passed the test, you can take this class in which you will learn Y. Lather, rinse, and repeat.” is really, in a very simplified and demeaning sense, the dominant paradigm.

[Of course, when I say “we,” I mean “we” in the sense of the dominant order. If you’ve never done that, you’re not the majority. As long as tests like the SAT have primacy, that mode of thought about learning will remain dominant. But, that’s another thought for another day.]

That totally divorces learning from any of its emancipatory potential. To sound really campy: Learning is liberatory. Learning liberates us from the darkness of ignorance and compels us to search in other areas and keep striving for some sort of greater truth in our lives. (If we aren’t compelled beyond the necessity of prerequisites, are we really learning? Or is the learning happening in another site? Why does all of this garbage get “forgotten”? Is it the fault of people, or the people teaching? Or the pedagogy?)

In addition, it prevents one from asking deeper questions of “Why?” “How?” and “Where do I go from here?” Any of the reasons that a person would naturally choose to learn something are absent from the main-stream perception of learning created by a default philosophy of education ingrained in the zeitgeist and legitimated/supported by the hegemony of high stakes testing and “standardization.”

I’m sorry for sounding so preachy, but I have a reason for going through all of this narrative/sermony sort of stuff.

Anyways, this one guy, Hegel, had this notion of a dialectic. It’s an amazing idea. I’ve only read about it from other sources, maybe if I want to torture myself I’ll dedicate the time to reading Hegel himself (From what I can tell, it will be torture. :P ) The dialectic was picked up by many other different bright people (Like Marx), who used it for their own means. And, while I wouldn’t advocate a dialectical interpretation of history (“History is inevitably heading towards a utopia of the Proletariat!” *cough* Bullshit! *cough*), I would say there’s a hefty bit of wisdom embedded in the dialectic. It acknowledges the inherent tension between a thesis and an antithesis. These contradictions can be resolved through some sort of synthesis which will inevitably lead to more dialectical artifices which should head towards some sort of “absolute truth” (As Hegel would suggest. But maybe there’s something more like “A better answer” or “A better understanding”) The resolution of one dialectic necessarily entails further questions.

The whole process realizes the tension inherent within many of the things that we take for granted. Freedom can be understood through a dialectical sense, which allows us to reckon with the exceptions to freedom inherent within our statement of Freedom itself. (National security, etc.) There’s a tension between freedom and un-freedom, between two things that we must try and understand to get a better sort of insight.

But, any ways, tying it back to the stuff I was mentioning earlier…

I finally got more of a grasp of how brilliant the Dialectic was just a day or two ago. It was one of those brilliant AH-HA! moments that felt sincerely wonderful. (Consider, for a moment, that I had read far too many authors that dismissed the dialectic as useless, and even I had self-professed that something so arbitrary could have no use.) It all made sense in a brilliant way. Woohoo! :D

In a really silly way, the way that I have been feeling lately has been inherently dialectical. I can’t deny that (Thesis:) I feel wonderful. I’m confident, I’m at college, I’m studying in a field that I’m recently more motivated to go into than ever before (Seriously. Computer engineering: It can enable someone who can move only a few muscles to communicate with the world. How cool is that?) I have access to a huge library with all sorts of books, I live in a dorm room with a comfortable bed and internet access. I know a whole bunch of wonderful people with interesting stories (some of those people also have interesting thoughts). In a way, I’m home. (And home is just where your bags are, right?)

But, then, on the other hand (Antithesis:) I have never felt more doubtful about myself, my future, or even how I feel this very moment. So very many things are swirling about, and I don’t know if I’m really safe from the storm. While I can still feel confident, it also feels like my confidence is shaken, my self esteem is a leery tower swaying in the wind. I’m studying in a field I love, but I also wonder if the other things I love are worth pursuing. Will I leave them behind if I do not pursue them hard enough? Am I good enough to do what I want to do in an ever more competitive world? I feel like I’m home, but what is it but a lonely post-modern home full of consumption, images and representations and simulacrum (all the more painful because it is that which you can desire but never have? :P)

But, at any rate, forget all of that last half. It’s too angsty. ;) The Synthesis is that it’ll all work out in the end. Hopefully. And if it doesn’t, well, it’ll still work out.

But, yeah. That’s exactly how I came to understand the Dialectic.

And now you know.

Well… Gig ‘em!

Tom.

Love Like a Sunset - (OR: The best six-or-however-long-it-ends-up-being minutes of build-up for a few sentences of actual singing in the entire history of music.)

Wed, 31 Mar 2010 07:41:00 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful morning. Outside my window, a dreary morning was just getting started. The hustling of buses and random people warned me of an impending day of tests (both explicit and otherwise) and overall productivity (So much to get done, and so little time.)

I had clicked around Hype Machine and stumbled upon a new live version of Phoenix’s song “Love Like a Sunset.” To be honest, Phoenix is one of my favorite bands, and this particular songs is one of my favorites.

(I am dead serious. Normally I would say that “I like too much music to have a favorite.” But very few songs move me like this one does. Every time I hear this song, the hair on my back prickles up a bit, my heart pounds with the rhythm of crescendoing beats and bass riffs, and my heart breaks and unbreaks itself to the few simple words, so beautiful and pure, so true. And then I hit repeat and “it all starts again.” It’s as if the most beautiful sunset has turned into musical gold that reaches to the deepest part of my heart. I was practically moved to tears the first time I heard it; Sappy, but true.)

[One of the other few songs that I have ever been so moved by was Beehtoven’s “Sonata Pathetique.” That’s an entirely different story for an entirely different day, though.]

It’s times like that when I am reminded most of how powerful music is. Even the best poetry in the world, the most poignant plays, the deepest and most thought-provoking books I’ve read, can never seem to reach the same emotional impact as music. (That is: For me. I don’t want to make it sound like I’m saying the same thing applies to everyone. This is my own subjective aesthetic evaluation. If you happen to agree, then you understand where I’m coming from. :P ) As someone that writes every now and then, I can’t help but feel a bit inadequate about the whole deal. No matter how well I manage to write something, I doubt that someone who reads what I write would ever feel the same way that I felt when I listened to “Love Like a Sunset” for the first time.

It’s truly humbling to think about.

But, at any rate, you should listen to the song, if you haven’t already. If you don’t react the same way I did, that’s cool.

But if you do, I’m glad that you could feel the same way I did. (Isn’t that what lies at the root of any recommendation? A tacit desire for the other person to feel the same wonderful things that you felt?)

Listen to the normal version first, then the live one. Don’t stop it, sit down, eliminate all distractions, and enjoy. (Or not. Your call. ;)

Not Live - Love Like a Sunset

Live Version - Love Like a Sunset

Gig ‘em,
Tom!

... Well then.

Sat, 27 Mar 2010 21:22:58 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful evening. I was listening to some music from the Hype Machine and crusing along the internet. As I was surfing, I noticed that some of my favorite bands are going to be performing in Austin/Houston. When I checked the dates that they were performing, I couldn’t help but get the feeling that they purposefully chose to come through Texas, fully knowing that would be precisely when I would be far away in Idahonia.

I’ve never been much of a conspiracy theorist… but this could get me started.

... Hrrrm.

Tue, 16 Mar 2010 23:51:28 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful evening, a hot cup of Earl Grey tea at hand and a pair of soft, ever-so-wonderful utopia slippers on my feet. I was pondering the deeper things in life (Read: I was browsing Facebook. Such a damnably terrible site, but so addicting.) when, suddenly, I realized that I had neglected to write anything.

I have a friend who consistently blogs, and it’s always refreshing hearing what he has to say or different things that he ponders throughout his life. Maybe I could write something that’d get the same sort of reaction out of someone else.

So, I’m back at it. Sorry about not writing anything. I’ll fix that in the future. :)

Maybe it all starts with a hearty "Hello, world! I'm ready to have a great day"...

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 01:38:57 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful evening, my feet precariously perched upon a scale. As customary before making any large airplane voyage, I decided that I would weigh my luggage (Carry on, in this case) by first weighing myself with the bag and then weighing myself without the bag. It seemed mostly uneventful, my carry on was 28 pounds or so (In other words: If I could somehow manage to fit anything else, I’d be able to fit at least 14 pounds more.) which was well within the weight limit.

But, after doing the quick mental math to figure out the weight of my carry on, I reweighed myself.

… Um… Since when did the freshman 15 become the freshman -7?

I’d have thought that a diet of fried food, southern specialties, soda, and at least a pint of Blue Bell a day would mean that I’d gain weight.

Maybe it all starts with the familiar grinding of fresh grounds,

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 02:43:55 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful day, when suddenly I realized I hadn’t written a blag in a while.

So, instead of entertaining you with something funny that happened to me in the past few days, here’s some lyrics to a song that’s got me thinking. Hopefully you’ll think something profound from it all.

Sorry, I’m a terrible blogger, writer, and person.

But, it could be worse, right?

Insert obligatory smirk here.

Or with the polyphonic twittering of birds...

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 22:53:57 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful day. The slightly-less-humid-because-it-just-rained Texas air rustled its way through my hair like the rustling of autumn-shaded leaves under a majestic Oak tree. The road was open, beckoning me to pedal down it and realize my own bike-tastic potential. The sun was shining at my back, the puddles seemed to dry up just enough to allow safe, not-entirely-soaked-rear-end passage over the path.

It seemed as if it was a biker’s paradise. The only thing missing was a strong tail wind. (Or, maybe crowds of French spectators yelling “Ole” or “Ele” or whatever the proper French sound/word/thing is for “Go faster!”- If you were a Tour ‘De France buff, you’d know what I’m talking about.)

And, so, of course, I pedaled onward. This was, in a way, my road, calling out for me to zoom down it like Lance Armstrong zoomed up Alpe d’Huez. (Look it up, if you don’t know.)

And, zoom I did.

Zoom zoom.

But, alas, there was a crisis imminently threatening to ruin my day.

There she was… an innocent looking pedestrian with an intriguing ensemble and bleach-blonde hair whimsically swirling about in the late-summer-indeterminate-season’s breeze.

If she had a name, it would have been Ms. Crisis.

She stood there, her eyes keenly trained on me… this wasn’t some sort of deer-in-the-headlights glance, not an absentminded wandering wink, or a daydreamer’s glazed-over-eyes gaze.

No.

She was looking pretty intently at me, making eye contact. The way she stood there, in the middle of the road, right in front of me, could only be described as defiant. She wasn’t lost, this wasn’t an odd misstep into the road, she was playing the role of the Tank Man, standing up against the armor ambling into Tienanmen square (In this case, a single bycyclist sprinting down the street in high-gear with little capability to stop or dramatically change course.)

Of course, I couldn’t have told you what that gaze really said, beacuse this all happened in an instant. She stepped out into the middle of the road, glanced at me, stayed in the same place, as I was simultaneously muttering “ooohhhsshhhhhhhhhh” and trying to figure out if she was going to walk across the street like a normal pedestrian or do something else.

What do you think she did?

She just stood there.

If she’d had actually walked like a normal person crossing a street would, or even taken the Barney-recommended step of looking both ways before crossing the street like a normal, sensible person would do, this blag post would never have been written.

But, no, that’d be too easy.

She stood there gazing at me, and I made one, last-ditch, heroic effort to avoid a certain collision by leaning to the left and praying. My handlebar came ever-so-precariously close to clipping her purse strap, and as she wooshed past, I turned back to either apologize or at least see if she reacted. (Standard fare for something like this, almost like how you glare at the person in front of you when they cut you off, or when that person behind you does something totally stupid and you have no ability to resist the urge to turn back and say “Really?”)

Did she react?

No.

Did she look back?

No.

She just turned and kept walking accross the street, as if she’d done this before… as if it wasn’t nescessary for her to turn around and see my reaction beacuse she’s already remembered all of the other faces of other bycyclists she successfully tricked. (Tricked into thinking they ran someone over.)

That person I almost ran into? She wasn’t a pedestrian, or a passerby, or an aimless wanderer.

She was a jaywalking pedesterrorist.

Keep your eyes open, because they’re out there… people who just stand in the middle of the road and almost cause you to crash for kicks and giggles.

Now you know.

(And knowing is half the battle.)

[Also: Sorry about the lack of posts for a day or two. I was feeling miserable and had a serious case of Writer’s Block. I won’t waste any more words on an excuse. :P]

Not necessarily with a picturesque sunset...

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 00:10:12 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful evening. An hour before, I had sped through the humid air under the cool embrace of an almost-full moon peeking out from behind scant clouds here and there. It was beautiful, even though I would have preferred to substitute the muggy Texas air for more dry and crisp fare. (Oh well, I suppose life isn’t always fair.)

By this point, my bike was safely corralled amongst the other bikes (most of which with questionably-thief-proof means of attachment to the bike rack.), my bag of homework and math notes was resting softly on my bed with other miscellanea, my door was locked, and I had a pint of Melancholy Mitigating Mint Chocolate Chip Blue Bell Ice Cream in one hand… (That has to be capitalized because it’s so darn delicious.) my PO Box key in the other. [To those that didn’t put it together right away, I was in the post office, heading to my PO Box. Which you should send me letters to, if you’re feeling daring.]

To backtrack tangentially, a week or two previous to this excursion, I had spent an evening browsing through the IKEA website, searching for lighting fixtures (A.K.A enlightenment, and lamps on occasion.) for my dorm room. (A single fluorescent light fixture for the entire dorm room is not conducive to semi-polite night-owling.) I found the perfect stuff, dreamed about how I would love to purchase it and have it delivered here so I can both take a step down the path to enlightenment and the path towards an IKEA lifestyle, and then set out to order it online.

But, like any sort of thing that I set my heart on attaining, there was a catch: Ikea didn’t sell those products online. I’d either have to traipse to Houston… or get a copy of the catalog. And, of course, compelled by optimism and a blind sense of “You can do it, tom!”ism, I did just that.

So, to reiterate, there I was, standing in front of my PO Box, putting my key carefully into the slot and trying to shove away all negative thoughts and memories of past disappointments (I’d tried to see if I got my catalog a few days beforehand.). I took a deep breath, closed my eyes in hopes of being surprised with something unexpected, and then swung open the PO Box…

What did I see?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

I frowned a bit, closed the PO box and walked off. My keys found their way back into my pocket and I resumed eating my ice cream. At least I had that to comfort me as I silently realized that, in fact, this was nothing new.

Nothing like an IKEA catalog (or lack thereof) to make you feel ever-so-cynical.

Almost in the same way that a good day must begin...

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 01:03:05 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful day. The bright Texan sun was shining in the ever-so-vast Texan sky while tendrils and swirling clouds slid across the blue expanse. Some of that ever-harsh light shimmied its way through shuffling green leaves holding on dearly to the limbs of a large tree, making its way to the quaint bench I was sitting down on.

Of course, this was no ordinary bench, it was a splendid little wood bench in front of the ever-laughable Glasscock building (A fragile subject, I’d dare say.) As I sat there, leafing through my history notes and attempting to relive their corresponding lectures, someone called out, “Tom White! Is that you!”

(Yes. Yes it was me.)

One thing led to another, and I ended up asking her (The someone) a question that had been on my mind like an alarm clock sits on a night stand:

“What is your favorite children’s book?”

With a feline smile, she answered “Puss and Boots.”

My eyes lit up, my heart quickly began beating faster. It seemed like the sun became brighter and a light from the heavens slowly descended to highlight my instantaneous and utterly brilliant eureka moment.

I needed that book. (You wouldn’t understand.) I’d heard of it beforehand, but I hadn’t actually read a book about a cat with boots. This was destiny…

But, alas, a destiny that would have to be put off until after history.

I made my way through the lecture, focusing as hard as possible upon the awesome bad-assery of my history prof (more on that some other time) to prevent me from thinking about the book I was bound to acquire. When class ended, I bounded to the Evans (Or is it Evan’s? Or Evans’s? We’ll never know.) library, rushed into the lobby, and quickly began my search for a computer on which to search for the book.

My eyes darted frenetically about the first floor lobby, searching each and every possible spot for an open computer with which to conduct my search… alas, that failed. Not daring to give into pessimism, I flew up a flight of stairs to the second floor, only to notice that all of the computers were being used, again. Once more, I made an exodus to the nex-odus floor, and finally found a single open computer, waiting to be used…

In an instant, I had logged on, and in another heartbeat I had made the search… after a careful examination of the results, I realized with the crushing weight of sadness and agony that the Evans/’s/s’s library did not have “Puss in Boots.”

Dejectedly, I logged off the computer and slowly began to walk away, but not before noticing something… the person at the computer next to me was browsing his Facebook. And the person next to him? Not browsing Facebook… but he could have been.

Paranoia aside, I remembered my first search through the lobby, and realized that more than half of the people using library computers were sporting the characteristic blue bar and trite logo of Facebook.

Not cool.

Not even remotely nice.

That’s bad bull, I’m pretty confident about that. (If it isn’t, it should be.)

And, so? The moral of the story? Use Facebook in Evans/’s/s’s and you’re being a terrible person, the kind of person that’s helping make someone who is bound to be unable to find the book of their dreams even more dejected.

Thanks and Gig ‘em.

Every good story must begin...

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 16:32:53 -0500

So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful day (It was evening by that point.), when suddenly I was informed that I needed to start a blog. Not just any blog, I was told, but rather a blog with some sort of catch - a gimmick, if you will. And, so, what did I do? I quickly blurted out, “I do believe you mean a *blag,*” and rushed home that evening to construct such a gimmicky internetty contraption. And, thus, here we are.