Thursday, December 16, 2004
I too am waiting, O Radioactive Spider. Turn my tawdry finals week existence into a cool cover for my secret identity. Make my staying-up-late, sleeping-in, being-late-to-everything and being-generally-undependable tendencies into a heroic and tragic hidden sacrifice. Make me worth being--I'm doing a sucky job of it by myself!
(and yes, I know, this prayer should be directed elsewhere than a hypothetical spider. It's just that sometimes, it would be nice if things were that easy. I'd much rather fight super-villains than myself)
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Four nights. In a row. 187 Minesweeper games (best time, 118 seconds Expert--not good enough). 4 hours Rome Total War. 8 hours of newsifying. 8 more of constant checking and re-checking of every blog on my list. Equally constant checking of the fan fiction sites--some people have no concept of their responsibility to procrastinating students--not enough updates. 18 hours of sleep in 4 days: not bad, not too good either. Five Dr. Peppers, four beers, three ginger ales, two shots of Ouzo, and not nearly enough water. And 50 pages to write, five finals to prep for, and one life to keep living.
Yup. It's Finals Week. And if the Lord of the Vineyard had not ordained that Finals Weeks could fill no more than 1/25 of each year, we would all have killed ourselves by now.
Only 51 hours till the hypothetical end of the drama. 51 hours to finish. I daren't think of incompletes--because if I think of them, I'll ask for them, and I'll get them, and then I'll never finish. That way lies madness.
So now, finally, as the final gauntlet heaves into sight, the pressure finally comes to bear. I always say that I need to need to get my work done--if it doesn't matter, I won't do it.
I forgot how much it sucks when something has to get done and it's 2 in the morning and my brain is backfiring on caffeine and I haven't slept right for half a week and there's no alternative but to push through and do it.
I only wonder if it's still possible. And hence, naturally, faced with impossibility, I don't buckle down. Instead, I blog.
Let this writing live through the ages, a testimony to American Higher Education and the insanity of the American student.
Make that 50 hours to finish. I wasted one writing this.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Friday, December 03, 2004
While I'm in the mood to quote Card, and as a belated commentary on the whole election of last month (happy though I am that John Kerry will not be president next month), here's a pithy little quote from OSC's Heartfire.
"Government is like watching another man piss in your boot. Someone feels better but it certainly isn't you."And that pretty darn near speaks for itself.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
...but at least expensive enough for the Restaurant at the End of the World.
And much sillier. I mean, think about it--Martini on a Rock? Give me a break!
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
"The Maker is the one who is part of what he makes."
--from Orson Scott Card's Prentice Alvin, Chapter 9
I think this is true. And if it is, then truly, Christ's Incarnation is the First act of the Creation, late in time though it is.
Come to think of it, St. John the Forerunner said the same thing.
ὁ ὀπίσω μου ἐρχόμενος ἔμπροσθέν μου γέγονεν, ὅτι πρῶτός μου ἦν.
That is cool, and I'm going to enjoy thinking about it. I would also like to say that I love the way tenses get screwed up when you talk about the intersection of the timeless God with this temporal creation. A grammaticians dream/nightmare, completely aside from the sublime salvific implications thereof.
ὁ ὀπίσω μου ἐρχόμενος ἔμπροσθέν μου γέγονεν, ὅτι πρῶτός μου ἦν.--John 1:15b