I think I've prematurely become an old man. It's Friday night at 10pm - Some people down on the street are walking around wearing shiny silver plants, sunglasses and vests with no shirt, replete with various plastic jewelry, yelling, and I'm sitting at my desk ready to dive into an ocean of work. Somehow I feel completely normal about it. Someday all of this work is going to pay off.
Labels:
procrastination,
reflections
I've come to the conclusion that the intellectual culture of students at UCLA is diseased.
This is class.
It's mostly silent. The professor rapidly copies equations from his notes to the board, speaking in a monotone, boring himself just as much as he does the students. Behind him, the students who are not asleep or on browsing Facebook on their iPhones/blackberries are copy the equations the professor is copying from his notes to their notes (why not replace lectures with a xerox machine). They write furiously, almost desperately, as if they might get a's by turning a full notebook in with their final.
Occasionally, some poor fool wakes up, wipes the drool from his face and, despite the odds, actually becomes interested in what the professor is saying. He raises his hand tentatively and is immediately skewered with irritated looks, as if his question would actually prolong the class, which is of a scheduled, predetermined length. He ignores the looks, soldiers on and asks the question. It's a good one, but the professor is too busy plowing through the material to treat it with much attention. Though his interest is piqued, he only has ten weeks. He can't afford any digressions. He shunts the question to office hours. The Obnoxious Question Asker looks relieved for it to be done with, and a few minutes later, he goes back to sleep, resolving never to do that again.
Class ends. The professor looks relieved that it's over. He looks strangely lonely up there. The students shuffle out of the room, taking out their cell phones and putting on headphones to start their 'real' lives. Those of them who want letters of recommendation stay behind to inflict terrible awkward, forced conversation on the professor, who fields the questions, glad for some human contact, but he mostly just wants to get the hell out of there and get back to work.
Outside, the students talk about how they're so much smarter than everyone else, and lament about how they are saddled with a bunch of idiots for their group project.
"How did such and such even get in to UCLA? I worked my ass off!"
"I bet she just studied really hard"
They treat the material like some gelatinous muck they have to slog through to reach their goals. They skip class, take adderall and learn the whole course in a night.
What has happened?
edit: Maybe not this quarter for myself at least. I'm actually impressed by the first couple of classes. My first environmental economics class was genuinely fucking fascinating, even though the professor basically called me an idiot, and Effective Methods of Social Change is so ridiculous I can't believe it's actually happening. I'll write more about it when I actually know what's going on. And my econ 102 professor is actually concerned about his student's learning and is an interesting, impassioned lecturer! And australian - excellent bonus. The only problem is these classes will be so time consuming that I might not have time to deal with Rod Swanson's bullshit in International Trade Theory. The man hates marriage and wants the world to know.
I just checked out my professor's facebook and his taste in music is incredibly similar to my own. Cut Copy, Feist, Ryan Adams, Architecture in Helsinki, MGMT, my morning jacket? I have the music sensibilities of a 30 year old australian economics doctorate.
This is class.
It's mostly silent. The professor rapidly copies equations from his notes to the board, speaking in a monotone, boring himself just as much as he does the students. Behind him, the students who are not asleep or on browsing Facebook on their iPhones/blackberries are copy the equations the professor is copying from his notes to their notes (why not replace lectures with a xerox machine). They write furiously, almost desperately, as if they might get a's by turning a full notebook in with their final.
Occasionally, some poor fool wakes up, wipes the drool from his face and, despite the odds, actually becomes interested in what the professor is saying. He raises his hand tentatively and is immediately skewered with irritated looks, as if his question would actually prolong the class, which is of a scheduled, predetermined length. He ignores the looks, soldiers on and asks the question. It's a good one, but the professor is too busy plowing through the material to treat it with much attention. Though his interest is piqued, he only has ten weeks. He can't afford any digressions. He shunts the question to office hours. The Obnoxious Question Asker looks relieved for it to be done with, and a few minutes later, he goes back to sleep, resolving never to do that again.
Class ends. The professor looks relieved that it's over. He looks strangely lonely up there. The students shuffle out of the room, taking out their cell phones and putting on headphones to start their 'real' lives. Those of them who want letters of recommendation stay behind to inflict terrible awkward, forced conversation on the professor, who fields the questions, glad for some human contact, but he mostly just wants to get the hell out of there and get back to work.
Outside, the students talk about how they're so much smarter than everyone else, and lament about how they are saddled with a bunch of idiots for their group project.
"How did such and such even get in to UCLA? I worked my ass off!"
"I bet she just studied really hard"
They treat the material like some gelatinous muck they have to slog through to reach their goals. They skip class, take adderall and learn the whole course in a night.
What has happened?
edit: Maybe not this quarter for myself at least. I'm actually impressed by the first couple of classes. My first environmental economics class was genuinely fucking fascinating, even though the professor basically called me an idiot, and Effective Methods of Social Change is so ridiculous I can't believe it's actually happening. I'll write more about it when I actually know what's going on. And my econ 102 professor is actually concerned about his student's learning and is an interesting, impassioned lecturer! And australian - excellent bonus. The only problem is these classes will be so time consuming that I might not have time to deal with Rod Swanson's bullshit in International Trade Theory. The man hates marriage and wants the world to know.
I just checked out my professor's facebook and his taste in music is incredibly similar to my own. Cut Copy, Feist, Ryan Adams, Architecture in Helsinki, MGMT, my morning jacket? I have the music sensibilities of a 30 year old australian economics doctorate.
Someone I know has been diagnosed with cancer. Facebook delivered the news.
I didn't know her particularly well. We've worked together a few times and have a some things in common, like respect.
And even though she has hundreds of caring people around her, I feel deeply compelled to reach out to her, to help comprehend the pain and beat back the fear and point out when the sun is shining and turn the lights on when it isn't. Though I didn't know her especially well, though she may not have counted me among her friends, I want to help, in my own poor, inadequate, hopelessly awkward fashion.
Fuck cancer! Goddamn it is inexorable. Time acts faster than it should, pushing and shoving us towards something we refuse to acknowledge until it's looking us in the eye.
MGMT - Time to pretend. Not perfect but strikes the right tone.
I didn't know her particularly well. We've worked together a few times and have a some things in common, like respect.
And even though she has hundreds of caring people around her, I feel deeply compelled to reach out to her, to help comprehend the pain and beat back the fear and point out when the sun is shining and turn the lights on when it isn't. Though I didn't know her especially well, though she may not have counted me among her friends, I want to help, in my own poor, inadequate, hopelessly awkward fashion.
Fuck cancer! Goddamn it is inexorable. Time acts faster than it should, pushing and shoving us towards something we refuse to acknowledge until it's looking us in the eye.
MGMT - Time to pretend. Not perfect but strikes the right tone.
E is for Economics, Excruciating, Evil
Majoring in economics is only reinforcing my belief that I lack the raw unfiltered greed to be successful in business.
Econ 101, theory of microeconomics.
Consumers: "Hey, this is nice! I've got lots of consumer surplus in this market, meaning that I get lower prices! There's no loss to society, and everyone benefits! yaay! "
The firms: "What the fuck are you doing! I see what you're doing there, with your 'consumer surplus'? GIMME THAT SHIT, I'm charging a membership fee."
Consumers: "Oh no, price discrimination! Now on top of the price I pay for your product, I'm forced to pay the membership fee which happens to be the exact amount of my surplus! My happiness added a zero to the balance of your bank account! Why am I letting this happen?"
The firms: "Haha. Thanks for the money. Now look at this commercial...don't you really like us now?"
Consumers: "Well...that was a really good commercial...and I love Jerry Seinfeld...alright then."
I knew that this powerful knowledge, and now I'm seeing how the same tools you can use to lift poor countries out of debt and provide health care to sick children, you can use to literally transform consumer happiness into profit margins. That's literally demonic, something you would see on Satan's resume. yeesh
Economics 111 Growth and Development is turning out to be an interesting, if sometimes mind numbing class, thanks to my professor, who is really rich, angry, and aristocratic.
Since this post seems to be about my classes, if you see me smiling or laughing in my climate change class, it's probably because Professor Holger Brix just said the word 'huge', which in German English translates phonetically to 'yooj.' And plus, Holger Brix...that's a good one.
Econ 101, theory of microeconomics.
Consumers: "Hey, this is nice! I've got lots of consumer surplus in this market, meaning that I get lower prices! There's no loss to society, and everyone benefits! yaay! "
The firms: "What the fuck are you doing! I see what you're doing there, with your 'consumer surplus'? GIMME THAT SHIT, I'm charging a membership fee."
Consumers: "Oh no, price discrimination! Now on top of the price I pay for your product, I'm forced to pay the membership fee which happens to be the exact amount of my surplus! My happiness added a zero to the balance of your bank account! Why am I letting this happen?"
The firms: "Haha. Thanks for the money. Now look at this commercial...don't you really like us now?"
Consumers: "Well...that was a really good commercial...and I love Jerry Seinfeld...alright then."
I knew that this powerful knowledge, and now I'm seeing how the same tools you can use to lift poor countries out of debt and provide health care to sick children, you can use to literally transform consumer happiness into profit margins. That's literally demonic, something you would see on Satan's resume. yeesh
Economics 111 Growth and Development is turning out to be an interesting, if sometimes mind numbing class, thanks to my professor, who is really rich, angry, and aristocratic.
Since this post seems to be about my classes, if you see me smiling or laughing in my climate change class, it's probably because Professor Holger Brix just said the word 'huge', which in German English translates phonetically to 'yooj.' And plus, Holger Brix...that's a good one.
change I need/can believe in/deserve/found on the sidewalk
This weekend we did a lot of furniture moving - we threw the couch upstairs away and replaced it with the couch from my parent's room, and then we moved the couches from the family room into my parent's room.
I spent about three hours rearranging things in the rec room upstairs, hooking up surround sound to the cable and DVD player, moving the rug, vacuuming and finding pillows to set around. When I finished, I found myself pretty excited about using the room - having my friends over, watching movies on the big screen, listening to the radio in surround sound, etc.
But then I had a sudden realization: I don't really live here any more...what does it matter to me what the rec room looks like?
When I get to school this fall I'm going to apply for a California driver's license and declare residency in California. Next summer, I'm going to find an internship somewhere up in Northern California, and though I still want to see the east coast, I'm increasingly sure that there's no where I'd rather live and work than California. I want to go to grad school at Stanford or Berkeley. I'm excited about this - about becoming a California resident, about carving out my place down there.
I am...excited. Finally! I'm not afraid, or unsure that I'm making the correct decision, or mourning my lost childhood or something equally dramatic. My path is clear - hit the books, look for opportunities, and even though I don't really know exactly what I want to do, all I have to do is try new things and eventually I'll figure it out.
What I'm trying to say is I'm not afraid of failing any more.
All of this existentialist crap I've been absorbed with this summer has actually been totally unnecessary. I guess my ego overestimates my problems.
So in a few weeks, I'm going to be leaving home for good - home just for vacations and week-long 'hey parents what's up' visits. Other than wishing I could take this badass rec room with me, I can't wait.
Also my parents are fucking driving me nuts, so that's good.
I spent about three hours rearranging things in the rec room upstairs, hooking up surround sound to the cable and DVD player, moving the rug, vacuuming and finding pillows to set around. When I finished, I found myself pretty excited about using the room - having my friends over, watching movies on the big screen, listening to the radio in surround sound, etc.
But then I had a sudden realization: I don't really live here any more...what does it matter to me what the rec room looks like?
When I get to school this fall I'm going to apply for a California driver's license and declare residency in California. Next summer, I'm going to find an internship somewhere up in Northern California, and though I still want to see the east coast, I'm increasingly sure that there's no where I'd rather live and work than California. I want to go to grad school at Stanford or Berkeley. I'm excited about this - about becoming a California resident, about carving out my place down there.
I am...excited. Finally! I'm not afraid, or unsure that I'm making the correct decision, or mourning my lost childhood or something equally dramatic. My path is clear - hit the books, look for opportunities, and even though I don't really know exactly what I want to do, all I have to do is try new things and eventually I'll figure it out.
What I'm trying to say is I'm not afraid of failing any more.
All of this existentialist crap I've been absorbed with this summer has actually been totally unnecessary. I guess my ego overestimates my problems.
So in a few weeks, I'm going to be leaving home for good - home just for vacations and week-long 'hey parents what's up' visits. Other than wishing I could take this badass rec room with me, I can't wait.
Also my parents are fucking driving me nuts, so that's good.
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