I don't know about your college experience (that was pretty obvious, unless you think I am some sort of transcendental stalker). But as for mine, and once again maybe it is purely the nature of engineering, is filled with many long nights of studying. A lot of these (exam weeks and mid term papers come to mind), are true all nighters. You know.. the sort where you have just consumed your eighth cup of [caffeinated beverage goes here], are sitting at 9 pages with a 12 page minimum and have just realized that the noises outside are.. holy shit.. birds.. wtf. It can't be.. (Stares at clock).. 6:30!!! [Colloquialisms not fit for a family friendly blog]!!!
But more often than not, Engineering is really about the semi all nighter and the semi all nighter series. Those stretches of days at a time where you nap for 4 hours a night (so as not to have pulled an all nighter). To some people the idea of sleeping only 16 hours in a seven day period is crazy and undoable. If you ask the average Engineer around exam weeks or mid terms, they'll tell you you're doing pretty good and have their own sob story about how they haven't left the library except to smoke a cig in about three days. No kidding, I actually know of some people (acquaintences) who sleep in the library four nights a week. Not because they do not have accomadation but because it wouldn't make sense to trapse back home. I mean.. the gym does have showers (anyone who has ever seen Carmichael's male locker room should be snickering about now).
Recently I've kind of made up my mind that I'd like to go to graduate school, probably for Law or Business (yes, UVA, I may give you one more shot to let me in). I am some what excited about the prospect, except when I am confronted with the stark reality that I may have as much as four more years of education... Five more years of this.. I'm not sure I'll survive.
But in any case. Tonight, even before I decided to stay up the extra couple minutes and write this (I had been studying at the library for about 4 to 5 hours previously), I was in somewhat of an all nighter mode. In other words.. the guy bouncing up and down to the beat of his iPod at 1:30 in the morning who seems to be writing up (on the white boards) strange equations with no numbers and figures that look like they may have been drawn by cave men.. the one who is probably looking very perplexed and may have a wolf pack mocha on the table next to him.. yea.. thats me.
The usual routine for all nighters goes like this though:
Step 1: Brew a pot of tea
Step 2: Consume pot of tea while doing research (in the case of a paper)
Step 3: Put in iPod buds, probably to something along the lines of Yann Tiersen or Sufjan
Step 4: Type.. Type.. Type
Step 5: Type more
Step 6: Notice the birds are beginning to chirp.. accelerate typing (more like keyboard bashing at this point)
Step 7: Print out draft.. thank God
Step 8: Shower and prepare breakfast (walk to dining hall for breakfast if that indeed was an option)
Step 9: Edit the paper while comsuming food and another pot of tea
Step 10: Finalize edits and print out final copy...
Step 11: CRASH onto bed.... zzzz...
Step 11 sounds pretty good about now. I think I may....
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Airports
I openly admit to being a strange individual on some things. If you know me well, then you're probably aware that I have a not so secret love affair with aviation. There is just something about the nature of flight and the aura around it. Yes, the 21st century economy has taken a hard hit on the world's airlines.. but.. flight is still sexy.
Today, October 26th, Raleigh Durham International Airport opened a brand new terminal, Terminal 2. Coincidentally (and no I seriously didn't plan it this way, its just how it worked out), I left on one of the first flights out of the new terminal this morning at 7 AM.
The space? grand.. emaculate.. polished.. The only comparison I can make is Terminal 2 at Charles de Gaulle if you've ever been there (Also, maybe... the AA Terminal at Kennedy and Heathrow T5 (although I haven't been to the latter yet.. but from what I've heard)). They had filed everything to perfection, and I (who am actually quite hard to impress), was in awe. Also, the idea of being the first person to sit down in a chair (in a public space) has this strange sort of resonance to it. I can't really describe the feeling, but looking down at the brand new leather chair I was sitting in; all I could think about is the vast number of people that will occupy the chair after me, how many thousands of people will sit in the same place where I sat first. I guess it was just one of those strange surreal moments in life that you should simply accept and not dwell upon too much.
I'm not sure if I really have a point with this post but to point out one of my strange quirks. But I thought I would share a couple pictures I took far too early this morning while walking down the concourse.
I ended up sitting in about 12 different chairs just for the hell of it. lol.
Today, October 26th, Raleigh Durham International Airport opened a brand new terminal, Terminal 2. Coincidentally (and no I seriously didn't plan it this way, its just how it worked out), I left on one of the first flights out of the new terminal this morning at 7 AM.
The space? grand.. emaculate.. polished.. The only comparison I can make is Terminal 2 at Charles de Gaulle if you've ever been there (Also, maybe... the AA Terminal at Kennedy and Heathrow T5 (although I haven't been to the latter yet.. but from what I've heard)). They had filed everything to perfection, and I (who am actually quite hard to impress), was in awe. Also, the idea of being the first person to sit down in a chair (in a public space) has this strange sort of resonance to it. I can't really describe the feeling, but looking down at the brand new leather chair I was sitting in; all I could think about is the vast number of people that will occupy the chair after me, how many thousands of people will sit in the same place where I sat first. I guess it was just one of those strange surreal moments in life that you should simply accept and not dwell upon too much.
I'm not sure if I really have a point with this post but to point out one of my strange quirks. But I thought I would share a couple pictures I took far too early this morning while walking down the concourse.
I ended up sitting in about 12 different chairs just for the hell of it. lol.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Socialism
In America, ever since the days of McCarthy, the cold war and the days when the term Pinko was an insult (most would probably argue, long before this). Americans have had a strange aversion to the term socialism. If you automatically associate this term with Lenin, Stalin and Mao, then yes you probably would have an aversion to the term. In reality though: today's socialism, the socialism of Marx and the perversions of Mao and Lenin are three entirely different beasts.
I don't want to go to a boring history lesson into how the socialists parties of the world split into two separate factions in 1919, nor do I want to discuss the merits of what Marx had to say, you either agree that there is an inevitable class conflict or you don't. What I find curious though is that Americans mistakenly associate all forms of socialism to radicalism. In reality, modern socialism isn't radical at all. Just look at the world we live in; England's Labour party, France's Parti Socialiste (lol. that says it outright though), Germany's SPD (Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands), what are they? Nothing more than socialists (social democrats). They don't seem to be afraid of the term socialism. In fact, they all are members of Socialist International. They openly embrace their socialism, as in every other part of the world except ours, the term socialist simply applies to a party who seeks to lower the margin between the rich and the poor. That is modern socialism (I love broad generalizations).
Despite the fact that some of our closest allies are governed by 'socialist' governments and that the Democratic party in this country aligns remarkably close to the goals of Sociliast International. The second anyone suggests the Democrats are socialists, they strike back in fury. Sorry to burst your bubble, but they're socialists. What else do you think Obama's tax plan is trying to do if not tax the rich to bring them down to the level of the middle class? The Democrats wants to bring back inhertiance taxes with full force, meaning that most of the money you work hard for your whole life doesn't go to your children, but to your government (how patriotic right?). This is socialist style down to the fine print.
Just look close and you'll realize this country has more socialists than any other in the world (proud to call myself not one of them), and 90+ percent of them are too ignorant to know that is what they truly support.
In any case (my plug for democracy). Go out and vote on November 4th, if for nothing else than to show how different our socialism is from communism.
I don't want to go to a boring history lesson into how the socialists parties of the world split into two separate factions in 1919, nor do I want to discuss the merits of what Marx had to say, you either agree that there is an inevitable class conflict or you don't. What I find curious though is that Americans mistakenly associate all forms of socialism to radicalism. In reality, modern socialism isn't radical at all. Just look at the world we live in; England's Labour party, France's Parti Socialiste (lol. that says it outright though), Germany's SPD (Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands), what are they? Nothing more than socialists (social democrats). They don't seem to be afraid of the term socialism. In fact, they all are members of Socialist International. They openly embrace their socialism, as in every other part of the world except ours, the term socialist simply applies to a party who seeks to lower the margin between the rich and the poor. That is modern socialism (I love broad generalizations).
Despite the fact that some of our closest allies are governed by 'socialist' governments and that the Democratic party in this country aligns remarkably close to the goals of Sociliast International. The second anyone suggests the Democrats are socialists, they strike back in fury. Sorry to burst your bubble, but they're socialists. What else do you think Obama's tax plan is trying to do if not tax the rich to bring them down to the level of the middle class? The Democrats wants to bring back inhertiance taxes with full force, meaning that most of the money you work hard for your whole life doesn't go to your children, but to your government (how patriotic right?). This is socialist style down to the fine print.
Just look close and you'll realize this country has more socialists than any other in the world (proud to call myself not one of them), and 90+ percent of them are too ignorant to know that is what they truly support.
In any case (my plug for democracy). Go out and vote on November 4th, if for nothing else than to show how different our socialism is from communism.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
First.. Comes First
In my recent readings, many supposed 'experts' in the field of economics are claiming that increasing economic collaboration and interconnection are one of the primary culprits dragging down the world economy.
If globalization is the culprit... then look around you, and see some of the strange ways that we are all.. connected.
You may ask where in the hell am I getting this? It is a pertinent topic, but a fairly random one.
It was a discovery on globalization I made today, that quite honestly shocked me. And this all begins with a couple bus rides in Glasgow Scotland. For those of you that have been to Glasgow, (which as far as I know is just Madeleine and I) may know that the 747 bus line goes from Glasgow International Airport to Buchanan Station via Central Station (my destination the day I rode). This particular bus route is owned and operated by First Group; a Scottish owned transport line headquartered in Aberdeen.
Quick Facts:
-First Group is the largest bus operator in the United Kingdom, running one of every five local routes
- First Glasgow is the largest bus operator in Glasgow, running over 118 services with over a thousand buses and 2800 operators
OK you might say, cool you rode a bus in Scotland, and First Group is a pretty big deal. What you may not know is that if you are an NC State student, really an American in general, you probably have ridden a First Group Bus as well. First Group's American arm, First Group Transit (yes, the same First Group from Scotland), owns the operation contract for the NC State Wolfline. They also operate another 235 American Bus lines including tons of this nation's University bus systems. Lest I forget, they also own GREY HOUND!
Another of personal interest is Alexandria's DASH buses, who knew.
And I think that last statement is the point. We don't even realize this increasing interconnectedness exists. Except for one of the Wolfline operators wearing a 'First Transit' visor, I would have never researched and found that a Scottish company owns the contract to the buses I ride on every day, nor would I have known that the Alexandria DASH buses are owned by the same company. In fact, I would be willing to make a bet that the operators of the Wolfline are unaware that their pay checks are really coming from Scotland.
In this world of globalization, even the most obscure things (BUSES.. seriously) can be conected.
Another random incident from teh life of Russell Witham. Today while I was walkintg through the brickyard (amongst all the other random things in the brickyard recently), a girl approached me to ask me if I had voted yet. Upon informing her that I had not, she reminded me that in NC I can vote early and asked me if I would like any information about Barack Obama.
I know what you are thinking, why is this strange, its two weeks to the elections adn volunteers are everywhere.. and in numbers.
The reason why this was odd is the girl in question had a very strong British accent, I want to say it sounded like a Yorkshire accent, but I won't be held to that. With that assumption that this girl was a foreign national (I realized this when I was at dinner about 15 minute later), she would not have American voter priviliges. Then how strange it is that she would be volunteering for a candidate in an American election. It would be like an American volunterring for the Conservatives or Labour in a British election, it just doesn't make sense. I wish I had gotten the chance to go back and ask this girl why she was volunteering (I would have, but she was gone when I passed the spot again). Is the American presidancy really such a beacon of power in the world that this girl felt inspired to get Barack Obama into the White House? This would be remarkable to me, but maybe.. it is just another sign of the times.
If globalization is the culprit... then look around you, and see some of the strange ways that we are all.. connected.
You may ask where in the hell am I getting this? It is a pertinent topic, but a fairly random one.
It was a discovery on globalization I made today, that quite honestly shocked me. And this all begins with a couple bus rides in Glasgow Scotland. For those of you that have been to Glasgow, (which as far as I know is just Madeleine and I) may know that the 747 bus line goes from Glasgow International Airport to Buchanan Station via Central Station (my destination the day I rode). This particular bus route is owned and operated by First Group; a Scottish owned transport line headquartered in Aberdeen.
Quick Facts:
-First Group is the largest bus operator in the United Kingdom, running one of every five local routes
- First Glasgow is the largest bus operator in Glasgow, running over 118 services with over a thousand buses and 2800 operators
OK you might say, cool you rode a bus in Scotland, and First Group is a pretty big deal. What you may not know is that if you are an NC State student, really an American in general, you probably have ridden a First Group Bus as well. First Group's American arm, First Group Transit (yes, the same First Group from Scotland), owns the operation contract for the NC State Wolfline. They also operate another 235 American Bus lines including tons of this nation's University bus systems. Lest I forget, they also own GREY HOUND!
Another of personal interest is Alexandria's DASH buses, who knew.
And I think that last statement is the point. We don't even realize this increasing interconnectedness exists. Except for one of the Wolfline operators wearing a 'First Transit' visor, I would have never researched and found that a Scottish company owns the contract to the buses I ride on every day, nor would I have known that the Alexandria DASH buses are owned by the same company. In fact, I would be willing to make a bet that the operators of the Wolfline are unaware that their pay checks are really coming from Scotland.
In this world of globalization, even the most obscure things (BUSES.. seriously) can be conected.
Another random incident from teh life of Russell Witham. Today while I was walkintg through the brickyard (amongst all the other random things in the brickyard recently), a girl approached me to ask me if I had voted yet. Upon informing her that I had not, she reminded me that in NC I can vote early and asked me if I would like any information about Barack Obama.
I know what you are thinking, why is this strange, its two weeks to the elections adn volunteers are everywhere.. and in numbers.
The reason why this was odd is the girl in question had a very strong British accent, I want to say it sounded like a Yorkshire accent, but I won't be held to that. With that assumption that this girl was a foreign national (I realized this when I was at dinner about 15 minute later), she would not have American voter priviliges. Then how strange it is that she would be volunteering for a candidate in an American election. It would be like an American volunterring for the Conservatives or Labour in a British election, it just doesn't make sense. I wish I had gotten the chance to go back and ask this girl why she was volunteering (I would have, but she was gone when I passed the spot again). Is the American presidancy really such a beacon of power in the world that this girl felt inspired to get Barack Obama into the White House? This would be remarkable to me, but maybe.. it is just another sign of the times.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Purge
I should be typing away on a Lab Report right now. But while I was staring at my inbox on NC State's student webmail, I noticed that I was given a 'purge' option. This kick started my idling brain into a full fledged swarm of thoughts onto who choose the word purge and what they were thinking at the time. To me purge has such a strange connotation. Is it supposed to be freeing to empty my 'trash', like an enormous weight off my back. Its not that I have an emotional connection to the items I am purging, the vast majority of emails that go to my trash are junk (quite literally trash). But the idea of purging them makes it seem like some sort of washing of the hands. Its so dramatic. PURGE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO PURGE? To me the term empty is far more refined, I like the idea of walking my unwanted emails to the internet's dumpster and politely sending them off to the landfill of the internet. To me this in stark contrast to the idea of purging.
But then again, maybe this has something to do with the nature of most NC State students. Could it be that such a conservative student body has found a way to weasel religion into everything. As if somehow purging emails is some sort of spiritual reminder to cleanse your own soul. This would seem to be reaching on my part (yes, you are reaching). But seriously, who decided on the use of the word purge.
I know this seems like a fairly trivial item when we are surrounded by bank collapses, wars on terrorism, rising inflation and decreasing home values. But in the end (and this is a theory I'll steal from Vibrations), every single event, every harmony, isn't one single sinusoid but rather is composed of many seperate sinusoids. Applying this theory to life; then isn't every issue, every problem, just a summation of all the little problems. I don't mean to trivialize the trying times we live in. But I would argue that this current economic crisis isn't a problem of the burecrats in Washington. This is a problem caused by the summation of the mistakes of every day Joes. Overextension of credit is not the banks fault, yes their greed was the catalyst. But in reality, this was all caused because everyday people bit off way more than they can chew.
Most in the circles that have read a lot on the crisis probably see as I see that this problem wasn't caused by Freddie Mae, Fannie Mac and George Bush. This shit hole we are in was caused by Bill Clinton and Henry Cisneros (see the front cover of the NY Times on October 20th). The last administration told lending agencies to make home ownership available to more people. They asked lenders to loan out these sub prime loans and then gave Freddie Mae and Freddie Mac (FDR's brain children) mandates to insure these horrible loans or face increasing competition and constriction. At the time, they looked like heros. 70 percent of Americans had homes of their own, in historic terms this was absolutely ridiculous. A few people saw this coming, but amongst such money making as was seen in the last 90s till around 2001, who was really going to change the system. Now we see the problem, all people are not created equal. Not everyone in this country can be a home owner. You can't have a low income job, no education and expect a home. Thats not an American promise, its an American illusion.
Now we as a collective will have to pay for those mistakes. And yes this has nothing to do with the wording of the trash can on an email server. But I guess the point I'm making, is that its in the little things. Those little actions which seem not to matter, really do have more of an impact than you'd think.
But then again, maybe this has something to do with the nature of most NC State students. Could it be that such a conservative student body has found a way to weasel religion into everything. As if somehow purging emails is some sort of spiritual reminder to cleanse your own soul. This would seem to be reaching on my part (yes, you are reaching). But seriously, who decided on the use of the word purge.
I know this seems like a fairly trivial item when we are surrounded by bank collapses, wars on terrorism, rising inflation and decreasing home values. But in the end (and this is a theory I'll steal from Vibrations), every single event, every harmony, isn't one single sinusoid but rather is composed of many seperate sinusoids. Applying this theory to life; then isn't every issue, every problem, just a summation of all the little problems. I don't mean to trivialize the trying times we live in. But I would argue that this current economic crisis isn't a problem of the burecrats in Washington. This is a problem caused by the summation of the mistakes of every day Joes. Overextension of credit is not the banks fault, yes their greed was the catalyst. But in reality, this was all caused because everyday people bit off way more than they can chew.
Most in the circles that have read a lot on the crisis probably see as I see that this problem wasn't caused by Freddie Mae, Fannie Mac and George Bush. This shit hole we are in was caused by Bill Clinton and Henry Cisneros (see the front cover of the NY Times on October 20th). The last administration told lending agencies to make home ownership available to more people. They asked lenders to loan out these sub prime loans and then gave Freddie Mae and Freddie Mac (FDR's brain children) mandates to insure these horrible loans or face increasing competition and constriction. At the time, they looked like heros. 70 percent of Americans had homes of their own, in historic terms this was absolutely ridiculous. A few people saw this coming, but amongst such money making as was seen in the last 90s till around 2001, who was really going to change the system. Now we see the problem, all people are not created equal. Not everyone in this country can be a home owner. You can't have a low income job, no education and expect a home. Thats not an American promise, its an American illusion.
Now we as a collective will have to pay for those mistakes. And yes this has nothing to do with the wording of the trash can on an email server. But I guess the point I'm making, is that its in the little things. Those little actions which seem not to matter, really do have more of an impact than you'd think.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Sentiment of the Day
See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
With or without you
With or without you
Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away
My hands are tied
My body bruised, shes got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
With or without you
People like to rag on Bono, but the man sure can write some magical lyrics. And its true, I can't live with or without you (that was just me trying to be a poet... effort = fail (lol)). Maybe the world would be just a little bet better though if we all gave a little more, learned to laugh a little more and accepted that thing aren't always going to be perfect. And you can have a horrible stretch where nothing seems to go right. But at the end... laugh about it.. the sun is still going to shine, the birds will stll chirp, the world will still move and sway with you. Just give a little bit.
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
With or without you
With or without you
Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away
My hands are tied
My body bruised, shes got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
With or without you
People like to rag on Bono, but the man sure can write some magical lyrics. And its true, I can't live with or without you (that was just me trying to be a poet... effort = fail (lol)). Maybe the world would be just a little bet better though if we all gave a little more, learned to laugh a little more and accepted that thing aren't always going to be perfect. And you can have a horrible stretch where nothing seems to go right. But at the end... laugh about it.. the sun is still going to shine, the birds will stll chirp, the world will still move and sway with you. Just give a little bit.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Just one of those days
Today.. was just one of those days. If there was something that could go wrong, it did. And in one day I lost the feel that I am fit to be an engineer.
When I started this blog. I decided I wasn't going to use as a self pity festival. But today was such a comedy of farces, I just can't help but share the events.
So upon waking this morning.. late. I hopped into the shower and swiftly washed off so that I would have time for breakfast before my bus. Despite the late start, I beat my bus to the curb and was ready to head off to my least favorite class, Fluid Mechanics. The bus pulled to the curb, and what do you know but the bus was full. Quite literally full, as in they would take no more passengers (I know, farce number 1). Twelve minutes later (the frequency of the lovely Greek Village line), the bus pulled up and the group of us standing there hopped onboard. Of course with my luck today, the bus was delayed on its route and got to DH Hill Library a couple of minutes late. This meant that it was now 10 minutes after my class had started. With the prospect of walking in 15 minutes late to a class I hate, I decided to stay on the bus and go back home and work on my MAE 305 lab report. I thought this was a pretty good decision as I was able to finish the lab report and even take a little break before my long line of afternoon classes. But of coursre, in line with the theme of the day something had to go wrong.
Of course.. it did.. 10 minutes before I had to walk out the door, I got an email informing me that my lab report was wrong in several spots. By this point I had no time to fix because I had to go back to campus. When I got back to campus and went to Vibrations. The day took a turn for the even worse, as I got back my first test in what I thought was my best class. Turns out it wasn't my best class as I got a 23 out of 100, despite the fact that I had previously gotten 100 on all of the quizes and homeworks. To make it worse, Professor Tran told us all that if we got less than 50 or so we should probably drop the course.
So now at this point in my day, with things going quickly downhill and me now realizing that I would have to retake Vibrations. I didn't really things could get much worse, and for my History class and Thermo, they didn't. Those classes were shockingly normal compared to the rest of the day. But as soon as Thermo ended, the karma gods struck again.
I ran to the computer lab to finish my lab report before 305 Lab. To my dismay, I actually finished it and clicked print on the computer. And jsut for the hell of it, neither of the two Broughton Hall public printers would print my report.
And to cap the day off after my lab ended (the one where I didn't have my report), I just missed the bus I needed and had to sit at the bus stop for thirty minutes to get my bus.
And thus concludes the fabulous day of Russell Witham...
When I started this blog. I decided I wasn't going to use as a self pity festival. But today was such a comedy of farces, I just can't help but share the events.
So upon waking this morning.. late. I hopped into the shower and swiftly washed off so that I would have time for breakfast before my bus. Despite the late start, I beat my bus to the curb and was ready to head off to my least favorite class, Fluid Mechanics. The bus pulled to the curb, and what do you know but the bus was full. Quite literally full, as in they would take no more passengers (I know, farce number 1). Twelve minutes later (the frequency of the lovely Greek Village line), the bus pulled up and the group of us standing there hopped onboard. Of course with my luck today, the bus was delayed on its route and got to DH Hill Library a couple of minutes late. This meant that it was now 10 minutes after my class had started. With the prospect of walking in 15 minutes late to a class I hate, I decided to stay on the bus and go back home and work on my MAE 305 lab report. I thought this was a pretty good decision as I was able to finish the lab report and even take a little break before my long line of afternoon classes. But of coursre, in line with the theme of the day something had to go wrong.
Of course.. it did.. 10 minutes before I had to walk out the door, I got an email informing me that my lab report was wrong in several spots. By this point I had no time to fix because I had to go back to campus. When I got back to campus and went to Vibrations. The day took a turn for the even worse, as I got back my first test in what I thought was my best class. Turns out it wasn't my best class as I got a 23 out of 100, despite the fact that I had previously gotten 100 on all of the quizes and homeworks. To make it worse, Professor Tran told us all that if we got less than 50 or so we should probably drop the course.
So now at this point in my day, with things going quickly downhill and me now realizing that I would have to retake Vibrations. I didn't really things could get much worse, and for my History class and Thermo, they didn't. Those classes were shockingly normal compared to the rest of the day. But as soon as Thermo ended, the karma gods struck again.
I ran to the computer lab to finish my lab report before 305 Lab. To my dismay, I actually finished it and clicked print on the computer. And jsut for the hell of it, neither of the two Broughton Hall public printers would print my report.
And to cap the day off after my lab ended (the one where I didn't have my report), I just missed the bus I needed and had to sit at the bus stop for thirty minutes to get my bus.
And thus concludes the fabulous day of Russell Witham...
Monday, October 13, 2008
Simplicity of a Sort
Everyone has those times.. you know.. one of those times where massive amounts of work need to get done, but none actually is getting done. Hence it is further delayed. One of those times; when Facebook and music (in my case the 'Illinoise' album by Sufjan Stevens) take over, and the work which seemed so pressing just a few hours ago disappears into some dark recess of your mind.
If you know what I'm talking about (who am I kidding, I'm writing to myself) then we probably share something in common. You are probably between the ages of 18 and 24 (check!), are a university student (check!), preferably in some really bewildering subject like engineering or one of the physical sciences (check!), and consider procrastination your best sport (check, check!).
Maybe it is just something about the nature of engineering. But I think I have yet to find an engineering student who sits down to work or to study and goes, "damn, I love this stuff." I know Literature majors who love their reading assignments, history majors who can't hear enough of their lectures, poly sci students who just can't wait to debate politics. But this blatant passion, just doesn't exist with engineers. If we ruled the world (thank God we don't), it would consist of cubes and rectangles. And not in the kind of cool cubist style of art. I am quite literally talking about cubes. Why you may ask? Because they are easy to construct, support and distribute weight well and are lovingly easy to model.
I'm not sure if I'm attempting to make an argument for not being an engineer. I'm merely stating the commonly held fact that our work sucks but pays well, because.. well.. somebody has to do it. I mean seriously, can you think of a job that offers more security and better pay? I didn't think so (mostly because I was the one doing the thinking).
Have I actually discussed anything in this post so far? (Hmmm.. nope)
Have I addressed anything concerning simplicity? (ahhhh.. I think not)
I'll make the assumption therefore that simplicity is pure.
Since simplicity = pure.
And since the song 'Decatur' by Sufjan Stevens is purely amazing. Then through my not so simple or logical mathematical formula, we can contrive that Sufjan Stevens = simplicity.
And since something that is pure would generally have a positive connotation, we (I really) can assume that Sufjan Stevens is enjoyable (positive) and can rationalize my choice in listening.
Now I'm actually starting to get frustrated. I attempted to define simplicity and wound with something complicated. Maybe I should just go back to fundamentals, more specifically in the form of the Random House College Dictionary.
(Ruffling of pages.. and then on page 1226)
Simplicity (noun, pl) - freedom from complexity or the possibility of confusing
(At least that was my favorite of the five definitions)
That would tell me that very few things fall into the category of 'simplicity'. Certainly not women, nor sex, not alcohol, nor the newpaper, Sodokus, Crossword puzzles, paintings, songs (sorry Sufjan, you're too complex). Nothing in this surreal world is simple. Maybe that indeed is the great truth of life.
Actually, maybe I can think of one thing that is simple. And if you are a frequent reader of this collection of writings (feeling kind of good about myself now), then you'll remember in my last post I mentioned my 'calm place'. My calm place has an unreal amount of simplicity. In this place, (and yes I know because I've been) there is zero complexity or possibility of confusion. It is pure, it is enjoyable. It is all the things I've attempted to use to define simplicity without actually being any one of them.
I'm not trying to strike some universal cord. I'm not trying to find the critical damping of life. I simply want simplicity. L O V E..
That is it.. Hit me like an arrow. Love is simplicity. In its purest least confusing form, LOVE I think is the only thing that is truly simple.
Don't just love the one you're with. Don't think you're in love. Don't think at all. Just seek simplicity and you'll find love. Whether or not thats true is debatable (maybe I'll pick up there sometime again). But my clock reads 1 AM and I think I have at least two hours of work to do before my 7:20 alarm clock. Tchuss.
If you know what I'm talking about (who am I kidding, I'm writing to myself) then we probably share something in common. You are probably between the ages of 18 and 24 (check!), are a university student (check!), preferably in some really bewildering subject like engineering or one of the physical sciences (check!), and consider procrastination your best sport (check, check!).
Maybe it is just something about the nature of engineering. But I think I have yet to find an engineering student who sits down to work or to study and goes, "damn, I love this stuff." I know Literature majors who love their reading assignments, history majors who can't hear enough of their lectures, poly sci students who just can't wait to debate politics. But this blatant passion, just doesn't exist with engineers. If we ruled the world (thank God we don't), it would consist of cubes and rectangles. And not in the kind of cool cubist style of art. I am quite literally talking about cubes. Why you may ask? Because they are easy to construct, support and distribute weight well and are lovingly easy to model.
I'm not sure if I'm attempting to make an argument for not being an engineer. I'm merely stating the commonly held fact that our work sucks but pays well, because.. well.. somebody has to do it. I mean seriously, can you think of a job that offers more security and better pay? I didn't think so (mostly because I was the one doing the thinking).
Have I actually discussed anything in this post so far? (Hmmm.. nope)
Have I addressed anything concerning simplicity? (ahhhh.. I think not)
I'll make the assumption therefore that simplicity is pure.
Since simplicity = pure.
And since the song 'Decatur' by Sufjan Stevens is purely amazing. Then through my not so simple or logical mathematical formula, we can contrive that Sufjan Stevens = simplicity.
And since something that is pure would generally have a positive connotation, we (I really) can assume that Sufjan Stevens is enjoyable (positive) and can rationalize my choice in listening.
Now I'm actually starting to get frustrated. I attempted to define simplicity and wound with something complicated. Maybe I should just go back to fundamentals, more specifically in the form of the Random House College Dictionary.
(Ruffling of pages.. and then on page 1226)
Simplicity (noun, pl) - freedom from complexity or the possibility of confusing
(At least that was my favorite of the five definitions)
That would tell me that very few things fall into the category of 'simplicity'. Certainly not women, nor sex, not alcohol, nor the newpaper, Sodokus, Crossword puzzles, paintings, songs (sorry Sufjan, you're too complex). Nothing in this surreal world is simple. Maybe that indeed is the great truth of life.
Actually, maybe I can think of one thing that is simple. And if you are a frequent reader of this collection of writings (feeling kind of good about myself now), then you'll remember in my last post I mentioned my 'calm place'. My calm place has an unreal amount of simplicity. In this place, (and yes I know because I've been) there is zero complexity or possibility of confusion. It is pure, it is enjoyable. It is all the things I've attempted to use to define simplicity without actually being any one of them.
I'm not trying to strike some universal cord. I'm not trying to find the critical damping of life. I simply want simplicity. L O V E..
That is it.. Hit me like an arrow. Love is simplicity. In its purest least confusing form, LOVE I think is the only thing that is truly simple.
Don't just love the one you're with. Don't think you're in love. Don't think at all. Just seek simplicity and you'll find love. Whether or not thats true is debatable (maybe I'll pick up there sometime again). But my clock reads 1 AM and I think I have at least two hours of work to do before my 7:20 alarm clock. Tchuss.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Writing
Through my experience I've found that there is almost always a "proper way" to do everything. A paper should always start with a thesis and end with a conclusion. Even something as benign as cooking has its own progression; recipe, preparation, cooking, plating. Even blogs I'm sure have a way they should start. My query is then.. What happens when you do know what it is you are trying to accomplish? I'm not sure I have a beginning or an ending.
In my childhood, I despised writing. It was so individual and non formulaic, I could see little to no reason to work to improve it. Now, as I sit here, depleted and empty, I find that my fingers strolling the keyboard searching for thoughts is relaxing. I don't have to defend myself to anyone, don't have to prove myself to a soul except myself. I don't have to worry about the fact that I have no idea to what ends I am attempting to write. Is it reprieve I seek? (Me thinking to myself) I doubt it. Generally when I feel down I resign myself to sulking internally, while displaying bitterness and a casually flippant attitude to my surroundings. Today though is slightly different, things have not been going my way, yet I'm not really sunk very deep. I just sit here listening to music.... and writing. Whatever it is writing means.
Perhaps writing isn't even the proper title for this entry. Writing tends to carry with it this connotation that I am trying to accomplish something. That isn't really the case. I'm not making lists, I'm not talking about the pomegranate I ate yesterday, I'm not sharing the ideas of my current art project. My fingers are simply being carried away by music. Perhaps then, all of this language is nothing more than the workings of my subconscious mind. Hmmm? No, I don't like that idea either, it implies too much, as if there is something deeper going on. I don't feel as though I'm opening up some grand new mental pathways. I just wanted to write.. I saw the word blog written somewhere, and it occured to me. Why not blog? (Once again, that was rhetorical) I mean, everybody does it, to no apparent end. These quips will just wind up on some server out in cyberspace, where most likely my eyes, and mine alone will be the only reader.
I could branch off into some sermon about the impersonal nature of the internet, or the oddity of writing to myself for no reason. But I won't.. For no other reason than I don't like to patronize. And I didn't start this thing, whatever this thing is, for some politcal or social cause. I just felt like typing. And type away I shall. Maybe I might just type until I don't feel like typing anymore, which at this point may be never. I just feel like talking.. about nothing.
So much of my days seem to be spent talking about things of substance: politics, global warming (or lack there of), the economy (sad at best), music, religion, the news, daily happenings (or the absence of them). When do people ever just take the time to talk about nothing? I don't mean in the sorority girl sense (no offense to all the sorority girls who won't be reading this). When do people just let their minds roam, float through their heads like a sea gull riding the wind at the beach. Allowing their mind to feel the ebb and flow of the surroundings. The green plant sitting in front of me, the Netflix DVD at my side, the buring candle from IKEA. To a random individual these surroundings might suggest random Capitalism, but to me, they are the comforts of my familiarity.
I wouldn't say any one of these items carries any significant importance, I don't have any memories with them, and will probably not recall thinking of them fondly, even a week from now. For now though, they offer some strange semblance of comfort and home. I can just fall back into the sound of the music and my armchair and forget that the world is hard. There are no get out of jail free cards; and second chances when you can find them are definitely not given but are earned.
Sometimes I think the world would be so much happier if everyone would just take the time to find their inner peace. (Now I'm thinking... wondering if such a place exists, even for me who proposes it) I think I do have a place like that, but to describe it would cause me to lose it as my own, so for today at least I think I'll keep that one a secret. Even from myself, the sole reader of this piece of cyberspace. Not because I like keeping secrets from myself, but because this little echelon of comfort is one that I'm not sure I may ever get to again (even though I hope that isn't the case), it may as well be the farthest corner of Tibet for now.
Death Cab For Cutie is playing write now (for posterity's sake). Its their newest hit, "I Will Possess Your Heart". And though it is overplayed on commericals and the like, it has a nice rhythm and is prodding my brain forward through this mental entaglment of starting with no starting point, and ending with no ending point.
I'm starting (comical.) to wonder if even I'll want to read this later. (Probably not..) Because, and this goes back to the beginning, I'm not writing to a particular end. I'm really just venting without having the desire to vent. (What a strange concept..)
I just took a break to check my gmail, not that I thought I would have something in my inbox, but because I find it comforting to check somewhere in the vicinity of 50 times a day, just for the heck of it. I guess you would say it is my own little guilty OCD pleasure.
This entry into my "blog" seems as though it is starting to get a little on the lengthy side. So maybe, for today, I will actually cut myself off with the thought that I truly have more to say about nothing. In the same way that Jerry Seinfeld had mulitple emmy winning seasons of a show that was truly about nothing. Probably about as much nothing as this has been. Becasue in the end, even talking about nothing, is still talking about something. Because as Seinfeld showed us, even in the nothingness there is humor. In the silence, there is laughter. And in the most mundane of cafes, there are soup nazis.
For today. So long.. And maybe I won't write about nothing everyday. But certainly I will return here frequently to share my thoughts or my absence of thoughts with this little piece of cyberspace reality.
In my childhood, I despised writing. It was so individual and non formulaic, I could see little to no reason to work to improve it. Now, as I sit here, depleted and empty, I find that my fingers strolling the keyboard searching for thoughts is relaxing. I don't have to defend myself to anyone, don't have to prove myself to a soul except myself. I don't have to worry about the fact that I have no idea to what ends I am attempting to write. Is it reprieve I seek? (Me thinking to myself) I doubt it. Generally when I feel down I resign myself to sulking internally, while displaying bitterness and a casually flippant attitude to my surroundings. Today though is slightly different, things have not been going my way, yet I'm not really sunk very deep. I just sit here listening to music.... and writing. Whatever it is writing means.
Perhaps writing isn't even the proper title for this entry. Writing tends to carry with it this connotation that I am trying to accomplish something. That isn't really the case. I'm not making lists, I'm not talking about the pomegranate I ate yesterday, I'm not sharing the ideas of my current art project. My fingers are simply being carried away by music. Perhaps then, all of this language is nothing more than the workings of my subconscious mind. Hmmm? No, I don't like that idea either, it implies too much, as if there is something deeper going on. I don't feel as though I'm opening up some grand new mental pathways. I just wanted to write.. I saw the word blog written somewhere, and it occured to me. Why not blog? (Once again, that was rhetorical) I mean, everybody does it, to no apparent end. These quips will just wind up on some server out in cyberspace, where most likely my eyes, and mine alone will be the only reader.
I could branch off into some sermon about the impersonal nature of the internet, or the oddity of writing to myself for no reason. But I won't.. For no other reason than I don't like to patronize. And I didn't start this thing, whatever this thing is, for some politcal or social cause. I just felt like typing. And type away I shall. Maybe I might just type until I don't feel like typing anymore, which at this point may be never. I just feel like talking.. about nothing.
So much of my days seem to be spent talking about things of substance: politics, global warming (or lack there of), the economy (sad at best), music, religion, the news, daily happenings (or the absence of them). When do people ever just take the time to talk about nothing? I don't mean in the sorority girl sense (no offense to all the sorority girls who won't be reading this). When do people just let their minds roam, float through their heads like a sea gull riding the wind at the beach. Allowing their mind to feel the ebb and flow of the surroundings. The green plant sitting in front of me, the Netflix DVD at my side, the buring candle from IKEA. To a random individual these surroundings might suggest random Capitalism, but to me, they are the comforts of my familiarity.
I wouldn't say any one of these items carries any significant importance, I don't have any memories with them, and will probably not recall thinking of them fondly, even a week from now. For now though, they offer some strange semblance of comfort and home. I can just fall back into the sound of the music and my armchair and forget that the world is hard. There are no get out of jail free cards; and second chances when you can find them are definitely not given but are earned.
Sometimes I think the world would be so much happier if everyone would just take the time to find their inner peace. (Now I'm thinking... wondering if such a place exists, even for me who proposes it) I think I do have a place like that, but to describe it would cause me to lose it as my own, so for today at least I think I'll keep that one a secret. Even from myself, the sole reader of this piece of cyberspace. Not because I like keeping secrets from myself, but because this little echelon of comfort is one that I'm not sure I may ever get to again (even though I hope that isn't the case), it may as well be the farthest corner of Tibet for now.
Death Cab For Cutie is playing write now (for posterity's sake). Its their newest hit, "I Will Possess Your Heart". And though it is overplayed on commericals and the like, it has a nice rhythm and is prodding my brain forward through this mental entaglment of starting with no starting point, and ending with no ending point.
I'm starting (comical.) to wonder if even I'll want to read this later. (Probably not..) Because, and this goes back to the beginning, I'm not writing to a particular end. I'm really just venting without having the desire to vent. (What a strange concept..)
I just took a break to check my gmail, not that I thought I would have something in my inbox, but because I find it comforting to check somewhere in the vicinity of 50 times a day, just for the heck of it. I guess you would say it is my own little guilty OCD pleasure.
This entry into my "blog" seems as though it is starting to get a little on the lengthy side. So maybe, for today, I will actually cut myself off with the thought that I truly have more to say about nothing. In the same way that Jerry Seinfeld had mulitple emmy winning seasons of a show that was truly about nothing. Probably about as much nothing as this has been. Becasue in the end, even talking about nothing, is still talking about something. Because as Seinfeld showed us, even in the nothingness there is humor. In the silence, there is laughter. And in the most mundane of cafes, there are soup nazis.
For today. So long.. And maybe I won't write about nothing everyday. But certainly I will return here frequently to share my thoughts or my absence of thoughts with this little piece of cyberspace reality.
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