I am probably one of the most willfully lazy people in the world. I make this oft claimed...claim...because the dichotomy between my diligent self and my lazy self is amazing, to say the least.
The lazy Frank plays video games the night before a final, and writes with desperation and without purpose. He tries hard at the very end only to prove something - that he's smart, and that he's not worthless - but to no avail. His work is terrible.
The hardworking Frank does great things - he writes with clarity and personality, he understands the things that need to be done, and he does them without hesitation and with commitment. He is goddamn inspired - he has to pause work to write blogs about the plans and ideas that he has for the world and for himself. The hardworking Frank got into UCLA, NYU, and all kinds of good colleges even though lazy Frank was at the helm through most of high school. The reason any kind of work takes so long is because my lazy self is just sitting around waiting for hardworking Frank to show up.
Unfortunately, hardworking Frank has been elusive fuck this quarter - To be frank, I have lots o' shit to do before I leave. However, the past few weeks have been different.
I have spending every free second I have towards working for the Daily Bruin. In between classes, I sit up in the top floor of Kerckhoff Coffee house and record interviews that I don't need to do with people I don't need to talk to. I slave nightly at an article that I didn't need to take on, and I delete sentences that I could have just as easily kept in and finished all the earlier. many, many substances sit, unconsumed, at my apartment.
I've watched myself in absolute amazement, because this is literally the first time in my life that I've devoted so much time to something that isn't a video game, or something that I'm not forced, or outwardly motivated to do.
so I guess my question is - why?
I think I have a tentative answer.
I think that maybe, I love this work. That maybe, I love the process of discerning and encircling a story. Maybe I love the art of the interview, and learning the right questions to ask. Maybe I love learning the lessons that each article teaches, and maybe I love learning from people who have something to say. Maybe.
it is in protection to this ambition that I say maybe; I want to keep my excitement small enough so as not to smother it, though it is incredible galvanizing and breathtaking to think that I've found something to do with myself.
so, for now, I'll just say, maybe I love journalism.
but my heart says hell yeah, you do.
blogging from Powell
I'm blogging from Night Powell, aka, a room where a bunch of student who don't really know each other fall asleep inches from each other and are occasionally tasered for being too racially sensitive about presenting student ID. I'm sitting about 6 inches from a guy who has a very serious dedication to volcom clothing - bag, sandals, shorts, sweater. And he snores.
In anthro section today we talked about a headless chicken that lived for 3 years. The owner was going to have it dinner, took it out back, sliced off its head but apparently, didn't do a good job, because it's "OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU CUT OFF MY HEAD" running around session lasted a lot longer than he expected. It lived until the next morning, so he started feeding it through its exposed esophagus with a syringe, then taking it on tours; hence, this website - and festival - actually exists. I bet they really had to scramble for that domain name.
This is Mike the Headless Chicken - the topic of our anthropology discussion today. UCLA Out of state tuition is approximately $25000.
Also, today I'm kind of proud of the American legal system. A bill that gives a large healthy sum of money to the UCLA Institute for Stem Cell Research has been challenged by 'moral activists' at every level of the court system. They just weren't convinced by the 20% margin of majority in a state-wide referendum. Their moral code simply prevents them from allowing the vote to go through, aka, aknowleding legitimacy of democracy? This argument has slightly less weight in the judicial system, which has rejected them as inappropriate at every level. There's a difference between the a democratic minority standing up for themselves in the courts, and idiots using the legal system to mire an issue when democracy has failed to go their way. So hurrah for America. Maybe this shit actually works.
Also, people on both sides of an issue seem to be totally unaware of the possibility that the other side's argument may be the truth. So their arguments for the validity of their own opinion are formulated by taking their own opinion on the issue as truth. One quote I read in the Bruin really stages the situation perfectly. Dana Cody of the life legal defense foundation says, "I don't think people realize that...You're creating life to experiment with..."
Isn't one of the major debates over whether stem cells are human life? Is Dana Cody really asking why people can't realize that his opinion is the truth? Why doesn't anybody listen to each other?
In anthro section today we talked about a headless chicken that lived for 3 years. The owner was going to have it dinner, took it out back, sliced off its head but apparently, didn't do a good job, because it's "OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU CUT OFF MY HEAD" running around session lasted a lot longer than he expected. It lived until the next morning, so he started feeding it through its exposed esophagus with a syringe, then taking it on tours; hence, this website - and festival - actually exists. I bet they really had to scramble for that domain name.
This is Mike the Headless Chicken - the topic of our anthropology discussion today. UCLA Out of state tuition is approximately $25000.
Also, today I'm kind of proud of the American legal system. A bill that gives a large healthy sum of money to the UCLA Institute for Stem Cell Research has been challenged by 'moral activists' at every level of the court system. They just weren't convinced by the 20% margin of majority in a state-wide referendum. Their moral code simply prevents them from allowing the vote to go through, aka, aknowleding legitimacy of democracy? This argument has slightly less weight in the judicial system, which has rejected them as inappropriate at every level. There's a difference between the a democratic minority standing up for themselves in the courts, and idiots using the legal system to mire an issue when democracy has failed to go their way. So hurrah for America. Maybe this shit actually works.
Also, people on both sides of an issue seem to be totally unaware of the possibility that the other side's argument may be the truth. So their arguments for the validity of their own opinion are formulated by taking their own opinion on the issue as truth. One quote I read in the Bruin really stages the situation perfectly. Dana Cody of the life legal defense foundation says, "I don't think people realize that...You're creating life to experiment with..."
Isn't one of the major debates over whether stem cells are human life? Is Dana Cody really asking why people can't realize that his opinion is the truth? Why doesn't anybody listen to each other?
What is it about not sleeping that makes me feel so clean?
Somehow, when 3am rolls around, everything insignificant and trivial in my mind is wiped away.
The central idea of my paper somehow appears in a flash of insight. 3 pages write themselves in 45 minutes.
What's the point of writing about this? I don't think there's some magic phenomena that occurs. It's just that I thought of the sentence "What is it about not sleeping that makes me feel so clean?", and it was evocative.
My intellect is driven by things which are evocative. Is this unique?
In class, my attention is only unforced when the implications of a certain topic, or phrase, impress me. The things which are evocative to me seem to have nothing in common, which worries me. I'm here in college trying to figure what my interests are, and how to develop these interests into skills, and how to parley these skills into a career. 'Things which are evocative' are hardly helpful to my efforts.
Another thing which worries me is if I truly have any skill or talent at writing. This belief that I have something uncommon and unique inside of me is my entire being's cornerstone. Writing is my secret dream. Dreams are easy to have. There's no maintenence(effort), like you have for difficult things like ambitions and goals. Nobody challenges my dreams. Nobody forces me to think about them, nothing drives me to validate them. It's something to turn to in my confusion.
The greatest confusion of my life at this point is that I don't know what I want to do in my life. It's why I don't do anything. Where other people seem to have drive, and ambition, and goals, I have a giant, blinking question mark. I wonder if its useful to admit to myself.
It seems like there are two people in life. Many are like myself. Intelligent, with vision, but unable to achieve anything. Good learners who understand things, but find it difficult to motivate themselves to achieve concrete goals. It's always forced. And then there are those who live and breathe accomplishment. Application of knowledge follows naturally, seamlessly, from acquisition of knowledge.
This seems like it's going to be a tough life. I'll be complacent, because I know I have the intellectual ability. But everything I do I will have to force. Everything I achieve I have to convince myself to move myself to do. Contributing to this world and earning sustenance will be a terrible daily struggle.
unless I can change myself.
shit. I've got to finish this paper.
Somehow, when 3am rolls around, everything insignificant and trivial in my mind is wiped away.
The central idea of my paper somehow appears in a flash of insight. 3 pages write themselves in 45 minutes.
What's the point of writing about this? I don't think there's some magic phenomena that occurs. It's just that I thought of the sentence "What is it about not sleeping that makes me feel so clean?", and it was evocative.
My intellect is driven by things which are evocative. Is this unique?
In class, my attention is only unforced when the implications of a certain topic, or phrase, impress me. The things which are evocative to me seem to have nothing in common, which worries me. I'm here in college trying to figure what my interests are, and how to develop these interests into skills, and how to parley these skills into a career. 'Things which are evocative' are hardly helpful to my efforts.
Another thing which worries me is if I truly have any skill or talent at writing. This belief that I have something uncommon and unique inside of me is my entire being's cornerstone. Writing is my secret dream. Dreams are easy to have. There's no maintenence(effort), like you have for difficult things like ambitions and goals. Nobody challenges my dreams. Nobody forces me to think about them, nothing drives me to validate them. It's something to turn to in my confusion.
The greatest confusion of my life at this point is that I don't know what I want to do in my life. It's why I don't do anything. Where other people seem to have drive, and ambition, and goals, I have a giant, blinking question mark. I wonder if its useful to admit to myself.
It seems like there are two people in life. Many are like myself. Intelligent, with vision, but unable to achieve anything. Good learners who understand things, but find it difficult to motivate themselves to achieve concrete goals. It's always forced. And then there are those who live and breathe accomplishment. Application of knowledge follows naturally, seamlessly, from acquisition of knowledge.
This seems like it's going to be a tough life. I'll be complacent, because I know I have the intellectual ability. But everything I do I will have to force. Everything I achieve I have to convince myself to move myself to do. Contributing to this world and earning sustenance will be a terrible daily struggle.
unless I can change myself.
shit. I've got to finish this paper.
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