It is break time in Intro to Journalism, so, time to get my blog on.
Not that I have a lot of time. Its a fifteen minute break, but I had to pee first, and the bathroom near this classroom was out of service, so I had to go all the way across the building and back ti get my business done.
First world problems.
Today has been pleasant enough. Got up at around ten. Did the weekly home I forgot to do last night because I was concentrating on getting the Rough Draft version of my final project for this class done.
That is the thing I posted here last night.
As you can see, for said draft, I had to do some of that awful research stuff. I have been doing some soul searching about my dislike of research, and the results aren’t pretty. I am pretty sure I dislike research because it might disagree with me.
I am very much a writer who writes from the inside out. There are things inside me that I need to express, and for various reasons, I have to do it via writing. That meabs that, by the time I am writing, it is very much an output mode. I am not looking to take in new information, that is the exact opposite of what I am trying to do when I write.
Sure, what I write is informed by what I know. But what I write comes from deep inside. New information has not had the time to make that journey.
But that also means that by the time I write, I have made up my mind. And that is the part I like. Thinking, judging, concluding, and outputting the results of that process. Taking in a ton of new information in order to come up with an answer on a deadline is no fun at all.
And honestly, nobody likes changing their mind. It is just that some of us are willing and able to do it… if we have to.
Now you folks know I think of myself as a rugged intellectual, a true philosopher who stands fearless and naked before the truth, no matter how dark, strange, disturbing, or depressing that truth might be.
Avoiding research in order to avoid having to rethink subjects on which I have already made up my mind is not exactly consistent with that image of myself
(—)
Just got my exam back in Psych 1200. Another 83 percent. How bizarrely consistent.
And awesome, of course. I am rocking an A- so far in this class. Want to bring that up to an A. Maybe the written project will help.
The average was 70.5 percent. So, booya.
(—)
After class now. Waiting inside for the bus. It’s bleeding cold out there. Pondering getting something at the Tim’s here. But what?
Ended up getting two candy cane donuts and a croissant. I am very excited about the croissant. I loooooove croissants. The donuts are more of a curiosity. They appear to be chocolate donuts with crushed candy cane sprinkled on. Not exactly sure that sounds good. But very festive!:-)
(—)
Son of a bitch. Missed my bus by mere seconds. And of course, the battery on this tablet is running out, and I have fifteen minutes to kill, and I have no other ways to entertain myself.
How come this keeps happening to me? I never could get the hang of Thursdays.
I may end up eating that croissant before I get home. I am not going anywhere near the donuts on an empty stomach, but I could probably handle the croissant without too harsh a spike in blood sugar.
The harsh spikes are painful. Especially if I am just sitting or laying there.
I am bored. Let’s talk about terrorism.
We had a very interesting discussion about the Paris attacks in class today. I am starting to wonder if there really is any difference between a crazed shooter like they have in the States and the lunatics who blow themselves up at checkpoints in Afghanistan. In both cases, we have a situation where thousands of people have the exact same beliefs, but only a few of them do the crazy thing.
Maybe the Paris attackers are just as crazy as Ted Kazinsky and the Unabomber.
(—)
Home now. Where was I?
Oh right. Maybe the Paris attackers are just as crazy as Ted Kazinsky and the Unabomber. Maybe by calling them terrorists, we legitimize what they do. Maybe we would be better off treating absolutely all similar acts as the sad, desperate act of a diseased and deluded nutcase who deserves only our pity.
Imagine how demoralizing and demeaning that would be to any terrorist organization or cause. Completely ignore the person’s politics. No manifesto, no political rants, not even whatever they were screaming as they killed people. Ignore all that, and treat every single act as the act of a deranged lunatic with a broken brain.
Try to feel like a big man when that is going to be your legacy.
People don’t want to think of the Paris attackers as insane because we all hate them now and hatred hates nuance and pity. Especially pity. We want these people to be the blackest foulest evil possible so we can hate them and wish the vilest of sufferings and degradations upon them with a clear conscience.
Even though if you asked someone, outside of the news cycle or any specific event, what kind of person could kill a bunch of people they didn’t even know, they would probably say “It would have to be some kind of lunatic. ”
And can we really say to ourselves that there is any definition of sanity that includes the ability to perform such horrendous acts? Can we really believe that the Paris attackers acted with cold-blooded self-interest in mind? What if it was your next door neighbor? Or your brother? Would you be more or less inclined to call it insanity then?
Maybe all these people are crazy, and that’s why they end up doing what thousands of people just like them only talk about.
Maybe we have to rethink a lot of things.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.