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eripsa
thinking is dangerous

Do you want a black kid?

3.30.2005
I was walking home today, (relatively) deep in thought about the paper I am writing. It was quite warm, but the wind was blowing something fierce, tossing about the jacket I had tucked into the crook of my backpack in a capricious and frankly dangerous way, seeing how close it was to my nuts; but I was distracted and not paying much attention.

"Do you want a black kid?"

I looked up reactively, and saw a man standing on the other side of a shrub talking quietly on a cell phone. But this was a booming voice, and it felt directed towards me.

"He's all ready to go."

I looked around a bit but my forward momentum was not slowing up much. On the porch of the house to my left, also behind the shrubs, was a late-twenties black man sitting on the porch, cradling a young boy, presumably his son, around the age of 10. I laughed loudly to express recognition of the fact that he was indeed talking to me, and trying to make a joke.

"He's all purpose. He can clean and type. 6 words a minute."

I laughed again, mumbled a bit uncomfortably, and turned back around, head down, headed home.
16:25 :: :: eripsa :: permalink


What is Andrew Kevin Walker up to?

3.28.2005
I remember in college Andy Walker and Charlie Kaufman were my two 'must follow and obsess over' screenwriters. Whereas Kaufman went on to be nominated for 3 Oscars and a host of other awards and acclaim (and deservedly so), Walker seems to have completely disappeared. Se7en is still a very well written, well paced movie, and the little trademark touches he added to Fight Club helped turn it from a forgettable angsty movie to a classic. I feel bad that he got screwed by Schumacher over 8mm, and I honestly wasn't very impressed with Sleepy Hollow, but he still was a very definite voice in the late 90s and it is a shame he isn't doing more work.


The most recent thing on his pictureless imdb page was the BMW commercials he did a while back, but there doesnt seem to be any new projects planned. His trivia section is even more depressing:


http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001825/


Did a rewrite for the yet to be released 'Silver Surfer' movie. He also wrote an adaptation of W. Somerset Maugham's 'Of Human Bondage'.

Wrote the screenplay for Batman Vs. Superman. The film was shelved when director Wolfgang Petersen announced he would instead direct the epic Troy (2004), and director Brett Ratner announced he would be directing the next Superman movie.




It looks like he is just getting overlooked by the Hollywood machine.


When his absence occured to me a few years ago, I figured Fincher would help him get through whatever tough times he had by giving him some work and rewrite projects. But now even Fincher seems to have dried up- Panic Room had a few interesting visuals but not much more, and that was years ago; and his future projects on imdb look just as bleak. The imdb boards for Benjamin Button seem to suggest there was some sort of power struggle between Walker and Keopp, but is rather sparse on details.


Does anyone have more information on the whereabouts or current projects of Andy Walker? Because they could really use him back in the business, even if they dont realize it.


If you dont have any info, please share your favorite Andy Walker line or otherwise express your AWK appreciation. I'll start with the obvious:


If I did have a tumor, I'd name it Marla.
12:13 :: :: eripsa :: permalink


Community Writing

3.26.2005
Oh, the drama I have caused this bleak midwestern school as it slowly tumbles downhill! Like throwing rocks at an avalanche, I am definitely not part of the solution.

People have routinely asked me to edit my posts- for names, for compromising situations, whatever. I have consistently relied on what I feel is the only pure justification we still have- humor. Humor justifies anything, it is the only solid foundation left in the otherwise normatively stripped and naked world.

Of course, any appeal to humor automatically invites the obvious retort 'but its not funny'. This very phrase fills me with what I can only imagine sacrilege must feel like to the theist. There is only one time when this devious phrase is appropriate: when there has been a deliberate attempt at humor that fails.

However, none of my posts have been specifically an attempt at humor, and there isn't much actually all that funny in its contents. The posts are little slices of life in the downward spiral we call The Philosophy Department in The University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. It is, what I will hereby dub, 'community writing'. We know there are no universal narratives, no singular stories left to tell. There is no Great American Novel left to write, and appealing to a wide audience is bound to leave you unpublished and broke. So screw the wide audience, I say. My target audience is you, dear loyal reader, whom I know personally and outside the domain of the ethereal INTERNET; because it is only you that will see the substance in my otherwise trite narratives, and only upon you might they have any effect.

And upon achieving some effect, on having what little substance herein uncovered, there lies the humor. Humor, then, is justifying in these cases, but is not the motivation behind them.

I will not edit or self-censor my writings, though I will take out any names upon request. Doing otherwise will neuter what little effect and control I have over my own situation. Fuck you for asking me to do so.
15:39 :: :: eripsa :: permalink


the sickness

3.25.2005
O loyal reader. I dont like to complain, honest. I rarely do. But today has been a rather hard day for me.

Why? By all Skinnerian analysis I have behaved as normal on this, the last complete wasted day of spring break. I woke up at 11 (early for me qua vacation), hit the bong until my stash was empty (roughly two bowls. You know you have smoked too much when this is necessary to even feel on balance. I wasn't getting high, it was like a cup of coffee. I wasn't able to hold open my eyes otherwise) and then I sat here, realizing my project for the day was to sober up, and get ready for the grind to start tomorrow at 5 sharp, when happy hour kicks into gear and everything is running like clockwork all over again. And I sat here and played games from orisinal and watched the newest episode of Clone Wars and the few remaining Dr Katz I had left on my hard drive. And then it was 12:30 and I still had the whole day in front of me and my buzz was gone and I was sitting here, sober and head throbbing and knowing there were things to do and things to do.

There was a tangentially related thread in D&D that kept me up last night, fully past the stoned marker set at high tide, and kept me busy most of the morning f5f5f5f5f5f5f5. I went to Arbys and picked up a chicken sandwich and a roast beef sandwich. I ate the chicken sandwich around 2, and had a cigarette and read a bit from the various books that I should be reading right now, and played some more games and more D&D and f5f5f5f5. And suddenly it is midnight, which means time for roast beef sandwich, which I warm up, and while it is in the nuker I take a leak, and I can hear quite clearly the rhythmic panting of sin going on right on the other side of the door to Nathalie's room, as if they are pressed right onto the door to the bathroom.

They aren't playing music, and now that I think about it, the doorbell rang probably 30 seconds before I got up to nuke my sandwich, so obviously they just started right at it as soon as the doors were closed. Thats my girl, Nath, you get yours first.

And so anyway I go back to my room and eat my soggy rb sandwich and think about the wasted day, and I realize today sucks. On top of the general back to the grind deal, I also have to come to terms with the fact that I will probably be having sex with harmony in exactly 24 hours. She seems quite bent on it, if her meth-riddled aim rantings are to be any indication. Of course, she's been bent in that direction for a while, and I've been able to hold off quite well thus far- Ben thinks this has manifested itself in a bit of ingenuine bragging on my part (citing the last few controversial posts I've made) as an attempt to say that I didn't want sex when in reality harmony wouldn't give it to me. Of course this is just transference, but Ben doesn't seem aware enough to admit it, or real enough to act on it in any more satisfying a manner than simply making fun of me, which I can handle. At least I hope it is that Ben is a bit slow on the pick up, because otherwise it might be festering in the back of his brain and I might need to start boarding up the windows. But so anyway I'll probably end up fucking harmony tomorrow, even though I really dont want to, because I have nothing else to hold on to, no other distractions, nothing to stop me.

I'm in freefall, see, and its a long, lonely way down and I've been falling for years now, just years... and then it occurs to me that, if I hold open the sides of my shirt, I can catch a bit of air, and my fall slows down dramatically. At least, from what I can tell in the pitch blackness, it feels like a more gentle fall. And I know I wont hit an updraft and soar out of the fall, but it does postpone the inevitable, or at least creates the illusion that it does.

But the worst part. the worst part. the worst part is that as you are holding open the sides of your coat so that they catch the air, and as you pride yourself for just a brief moment that you did something good, that you have gained some control over the situation, just as all this is coming together, you can feel- literally feel- the seams in your shirt give. Just a bit. You can feel the fabric loosen and you know this fall wont last forever but that the clothes will give out sooner than that. They wont last. And you know it doesn't matter anyway. But it gave you hope, for just a second.

wokka wokka
01:02 :: :: eripsa :: permalink


google thinking now

3.22.2005
google thinking now did I take a simple example The following command to start the car. with the same name as the last of The Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper. Society home Page Vero Nihil verius Nothing truer than them. Charles Dickens The Man. Who MISTOOK His Wife for a Hat and a purple Heart for wounds received in action. at the National Archives of Canada. and the United States of America from the Outside. In Technology enhances the New Mario Kart, game to date! a Wrestler T- Shirt Size XL GBP Auction did did UK only but i m

google is intelligent enough to figure out a way to make MONEY online with affiliate programs. Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate programs Affiliate

Google talk
04:58 :: :: eripsa :: permalink


The devil inside

3.15.2005
I have ruffled a few feathers, yes, and laid a few eggs, and crowed consistently at the crack of dawn; and I have rooted around in the stale and decaying fall leaves on the porch outside my house, this of course being mid-March, and the leaves of course remaining unraked and slowly recycling via public compost into the round, gaping, and well-worn hole of nature's circle; and I am quite visibly proud of my little rooted nest of leaves, and perk my head up to show off the pride, the smile of my beak and the knowing look of the eye situated perfectly on the side of my head; and if I want to look at you to gloat I must master the perpendicular complexity of the geometric, 2-dimensional landscape that constitues a chicken's operative environment, which of course I do with ease; and I run to my mate, equally proud of my morning success in building a nest of leaves, and I bob my head to gain balance as I walk quickly up stairs, which could easily confound my limited algebraic capacities... but it doesn't, and we go back into the hen house, pecking at the scars over my deliberatively broken wings, and wait until morning, sleeping only breifly and mourning the howling wind as it messes up my day's accomplishment. But tomorrow, there wil be more leaves and more nests and more accomplishment, and my pride will swell, and my feathers will be fluffed and my mate will be proud.

___________________________

I dont know why I posted those emails in my last entry. It was quite spontaneous, and I was quite sober at the time. I was actually enjoying my conversation with Harmony, which only started earlier that morning and was carried out hastily between classes, and I was checking my email frequently- yes, even more frequently than usual (there must be some Plank constant in there that limits the sheer number of times I can check my email, which I am asymptotically approaching), and I was trying to dance around the issues that mattered as a way of stretching my legs and testing out my prose, which certainly needs work, and I stayed vague enough, but biting, and she was being quite honest and vulnerable, and everything was fine; and Harmony is quite a bit like me, I think, although my hate is generally directed outwards, because I have no soul, whereas hers is directed inwards because she has too much; but there is something rather conciliatory about us, which of course she picked up on first, with the whole literary double thing.

I understand Harmony's being upset with me in a sort of academic way- in the sense that it is conventionally understood that private correspondence is not meant for public display, that it is exploitative and mean and so on- but I'm not sure why Harmony was particularly upset at this particular public display, except perhaps that she is merely keeping up convention. Very few people will read it, and fewer still will actually care to stil through the rather benign and purposively, unapproachably long email correspondence already. Of those who do read it, either nothing in these emails is very surprising. The people who knew any of the 'juicy' details contained therein were already aware of them, and everyone else couldn't give a rats ass.


[The rest of this post has been redacted. look it up on my new blog if you care.]
21:15 :: :: eripsa :: permalink


The following should not be read by anyone in the Philosophy Department.

3.14.2005
If you thought my last blog was disturbing, please dont read this.

It is not meant for you. H will certainly be mad that this has been posted. to the INTERNET.
______________________________

eripsa to H > hey… so whats up with T?

H to me > well, he was upset and “wanted to know what’s going on.” i was so
groggyheaded from sleeping all day and full of delicious sloppy joes
that i didn’t really have much to say. ummm, yeah, last thursday,
when i asked him what the fuck was wrong with him, he retroactively
claimed that we are dating and have been, which i said was news to
me. big news considering that on multiple occasions we had
specifically said we weren’t dating. so i don’t know what’s
going on with him, or i guess i do but don’t know how to deal with
it. i certainly don’t know what’s going on with me, other than i
went from just hanging out and having a good time to having a whole
heap of shit piled on my head. now, instead of feeling like i’m
frolicking along in some nice meadow with little cartoon animals
with big eyes who are friendly, i’m wandering aimlessly through a
fucking dank stone maze where if i pick one door, others slam in my
face, and the only animals are rabid rats with yellow teeth and
three headed dogs. perhaps that’s a little melodramatic, but i feel
icky and don’t want to deal with any of this shit. of course, it’s
becoming apparent that it’s not the type of thing i can just ignore
indefinitely. i just keep getting this liz phair line stuck in my
head, “I won’t crack the door too far for anyone who’s pushing too
hard on me.”

ok, so i answered your question. i’m still waiting for you to answer
mine.

eripsa to H > Listen, I dont know if you should talk to T or if I should.
Obviously he is mad at me, and honestly I didn’t put 2 and 2 together
to realize that the reason he hit me was because of you until just
recently.

It seems rather obvious to me that he doesn’t really like you very
much, and is generally frustrated by the fact that you two actually
have some sort of relationship, and the fact that he has been fucking
you has some sort of male dominance type effect on him, and but anyway
he sort of doesn’t like having any sort of relationship with you, and
he doesn’t know what to do with it, and he is tranfering some of this
frustration on me, which sucks for me because I have no real invested
interest in this whatsoever.

And moreso I dont think you want to have any real relationship with
T beyond the fact that you want to check him off your list like
mayo or toilet paper, but even still you can be just sweet enough to
cause an already rather disturbed philosophy graduate student to hit
other philosophy graduate students in the back of the head really hard
because of some rather under-developed and immature feelings of
jealousy, which are entirely misplaced; and it is obvious the sheer
mindfuck you have done to the department, which was your implicit goal
anyway, so congratulations and *kazoo sound*

And but so anyway I take this whole situation to be confirming
evidence in my rather weak willed position of not wanting to have sex
with you, or in any other way treat you like a ‘girl’ to my
complimentary ‘boy’; and the fact that we have compatible genitalia
does not affect my rather weak-willed position aside from those brief
moments early in the morning where my reason capacity (being what it
is) is unable to stop the sheer biological fact that I NEED SEX. But
as of right now I am exceedingly happy that I haven’t fucked you by
any approximation, and consultation with my various visiers have
expressed similar support in this direction, and I plan on maintaining
this rather weak-willed position for as long as I can.

With regards to your question, then, of ‘relationships’ and of ‘what I
want’ and so on, I maintain my response of ‘ummm… ‘ followed by
strained silence. Because as of right now, I am your friend, and more
importantly, I think you need a friend, especially of the sort that I
am offering, which includes but is not limited to food and weed and a
bed to sleep in where you will not be judged or ridiculed and you bear
no burden of expectations or assumptions about what you are supposed
to be doing for me. Because our ‘relationship’ should be understood in
strict mathematical terms, where you are understood as ‘related’ to me
only with respect to space and time, but not with respect to any of
the non-scientific states of mind by which other girl-boy sets claim
to be so related. Our relationship, then, is only as complex as you
allow it to be, for you are getting no such complexity out of my
meager contribution. Thus, raising such questions with regard to our
‘relationship’ can have no satisfactory answer, because there is
hardly a subject matter there on which to base an answer. You come
over, sometimes more drunk than others, sometime I am more high than
others, and we watch some tv and then fall asleep, and sometimes there
is some gestures toward affection, but often these sputter out as the
fumbling looses its object and we just generally stop caring, and
honestly I like it much better when there are no such ingenuine
attempts at affection but just the natural sort of laying-there
quality that has no purpose or goal beyond the just-laying-there; and
that when you deliberately brush up against me in the right way and I
deliberately make no attempt to stop you, and the ambiguity of my
deliberate non-gesuture hangs there in the air while I wait to see
what you are going to do, that this whole action-sequence, the pattern
of which we seemed to have fallen directly into, is one of the things
that I hate most, and that honestly, H, honestly, I am usually
laying there wishing, hoping that you ignore what I am saying and you
ignore my deliberate lack-of-gesture that you just take what you want
from me by force, because if you do that it absolves me of any wrong
doing in such a case, but I know its not really what I want; and
honestly, H, if I wanted to fuck you, or rather, if I was
completely comfortable with the idea then I would have long ago, and
really right now the only thing that is stopping me is sheer momentum
towards not doing so, and this momentum increases as cases like T
arise.

And so if T doesn’t want you coming over and sleeping at my place,
and if you want to respect T’s desires in this respect, then you
shouldn’t come over any more. If you dont care what T thinks, then
tell him as much, and tell him to stop caring about the whole mess.
None of this should have anything to do with me, and I am sort of mad
that of all people you could get between what had for the most part
been a rather decent relationship between T and I, and really if
you are trying to tear down this department you short of hit upon the
load-bearing beams, because fucking **** or ****, hell, EVERYONE fucks
them, but T and I are a different breed, and apparently T takes
these things much more personally, apparently AND sadly, let me
clarify, and I have so little invested in any of this that I dont even
care enough to try and rectify the whole mess.

(names removed on request)

That consitutes something of an answer. If I was telling you this in
person, it would involve a lot more stuttering and long gaps of
staring off into the distance.

H to me > well, that was something like what i expected. i don’t understand
how you can be so right and so wrong. or maybe i do. you think that
i have some fucked up agenda that i just don’t have. actually, most
of my misery over the past few weeks has involved my feeling that my
actions and/or lack of actions are causing problems in the
department and between my friends. i don’t like it at all. it makes
me want to just go away and disappear.

i was pretty fucked up for awhile there. the **** thing caused me
enormous psychological disturbance, and i regret some of the things
i did in reaction. it’s true he gave me a list, and i was pissed,
but then tempted. and it’s also true that i too have a biological
need for sex, something i’d been doing without for quite some time.
the **** thing was just stupid. but he and i are fine and i don’t see
how that could really affect anyone else. fuck, you and T are the
only people who even know about that. then the T thing happened,
having nothing to do with mayo or toilet paper, and that was fine
and one thing, but then it started turning into something else, that
i was fine with until he made it all nasty recently, then i got
really upset. i actually care for T. but i’m scared of the recent
intensity he’s brought to bear on everything.

it’s true that i propositioned you that first time we went to
diggers, and on frequent subsequent occasions. and maybe it was
something of a game to me for awhile. it seemed like harmless banter
since you had no interest. well, then, we started hanging out more,
and i started to really like you. then your biological needs or
whatever started kicking in, and i knew i could fuck you, but i
didn’t. and you asked me why not at one point, and i said, “Because
i have feelings and you don’t.” so how you think i have some fucked
up agenda to just go fuck everyone i know is beyond me. i care for
you a lot. my “gestures towards affection” aren’t false at all.
after that diggers episode with T bugging you and shawn, i felt
like i might be approaching some terrible moment where T would
try to force me into a choice between whatever it is i have with him
and my friendship with you. the harder i looked at that, the more i
realized all the different things i like about you, and the more
fucked up i became.

i used the word “relationship” because i couldn’t think of a better
word, and i meant it loosely, almost mathematically, just as the
relation between two people, i mean you can have relationships with
friends, family, profs, enemies, whoever. i never knew what exactly
it was you thought about me, and until T started pushing things,
i was content for things between you and i to just function how they
were. i’m seriously attracted to you, and my sex drive always kicks
in, but i haven’t done anything because i didn’t want things to get
all messy. lately i’ve just wanted to cry because i feel like i’m
going to lose all my friends in the face of this nightmare. i didn’t
know if you liked me or not. i guess not. that’s fine. it’s
certainly less messy.

it does hurt my feelings that you have such a low opinion of me, but
whatever, you have your assumptions about me and my agenda. as do
T and kyle and shawn, and it doesn’t make me feel sick or dirty
at all to you have all sitting around discussing me and the ways in
which i am or am not trying to fuck/fuck over everyone.

so you’re right about me needing friends and whatnot. you’re
incredibly important to me. i’m not to you. if i’m guilty of
anything, it’s really of trying to be considerate of everyone while
not knowing what the hell is going on.

i might be a fucked up person, and i might do dumb shit and get
myself into bad situations, and i’m sorry if you got dragged into
this for no reason, but i am not malicious and callous like you seem
to think.

i tried to avoid all of this. i wanted to avoid all of this. but no,
now i’m “that girl” on so many different levels to everyone, and i
have no idea how i can ever shake that. so i guess in typical
H fashion i’ll just fade into the background and forget that i
ever had a bunch of people i liked hanging out with in this town
because you guys obviously don’t like me anymore because i am some
fucked up psycho woman who is out to ruin your lives.

well, good, at least i have abuot 15 minutes to cry in in the
bathroom before i have to sit through a fiction meeting and pretend
to give a fuck.

eripsa to H > Do I have a low opinion of you? I do not think this question has so easy an answer.

First, I dont think this ‘list’ business is actually your explicit
goal, and I really dont think it is what drives you to do the various
things that you in fact do. I dont think you have that kind of
cognitive control over your desires, or really that you understand the
content of your desires, so I think it is exactly wrong to say you
have some agenda or any kind of deliberative plan regarding your zany
misadventures in the midwest.

But on this point I judge you as no worse off than any of our fellow
sad, misguided brethren in the losing and ultimately unentertaining
game of life. To say you have a list is not to say that this is your
motivation for acting as you do, or to in any other way -explain- why
things turn out as they do, but objectively and from my limited 3rd
person perspective to describe what I think is actually going on. In
the same way I might describe the chicken in my front lawn as
searching for food among the leaves, even when the chicken has no
concept of ’searching’ or ‘food’ or ‘leaves’. The chicken just
behaves. You just behave. And I think you see the philosophers as a
pool of willing but pathetic and undersexed men, and that reeks of
opportunity for a similarly pathetic and equally undersexed woman,
who, if you’ll pardon my loose speaking here, finds it much easier to
take advantage of our rather pathetic position than to actually seek
out meaningful relationships with real human beings. And I can’t hold
this against you, even though I dont know how well you have come to
grips with the fact that you are in a rather emotionally unstable
position, having broken up with Ben, who no matter what bad things you
say about him was at least something of a constant in your life for a
long time, and constants like that do not just disappear without
disrupting the whole system. And the truth of the matter is, no matter
how over Ben you are, you are on what is popularly referred to as the
‘rebound’, and you actions have to be judged relative to this fact;
and with this in mind, then you are acting just as I would expect any
person to act. I dont think you are a bad person.

That said, I think people in general are quite foolish in addition to
being rather nasty, brutish, and short, and I personally would rather
not be involved with people to any extent. The sad truth, though, is
that I am also a person, and more often than not I have to interact
with them, and as a person myself, I find it quite comforting to be
around people, and especially to have people to care about, to talk
to, to share things with. To that extent, I am quite happy being your
friend, and further more, if you promise not to let this go to your
head, that you probably have the most potential of anyone in this
state of being one of my best friends. I can joke around with Brendan
and Brandon, I can actually talk to shawn and T and kyle, and i can
pander to joe, but there is a definite sort of one dimensionality to
all these relationships that make them rather unfulfilling in general,
and the sad, slow trod of my mingling during happy hour a depressing
affair; alcohol, cigarettes, and the sheer number of people there make
it just above bearable. With you, however, I dont feel any real
pressure to act in any particular way (minus the aforementioned cases
of awkward sexual fumbling), and, to be quite frank, there is
something so very comforting when I am sitting at my computer knowing
that you are on the bed right behind me, and that my being on the
computer isn’t making you jealous or in any other way interferring
with our relationship, and that long stretches of silence can exist
quite comfortably between us. And this is really all I want from a
relationship, this kind of lazy casualness, but it is something I
really dont expect to find in stupid fucking academia, which is why I
want a cat so badly. I almost had this with nathalie, but she wants a
boyfriend that will ‘take her places’ and ‘do things’ which I am
entirely uninterested in doing. Lazy casualness is all I want from a
girlfriend. The best I can get it from is weed, which I am currently
out of.

Given this long apologetic, I will quite unhastily add that I am not
terribly attracted to you, though I think that is more a function of
circumstance; given other surrounding conditions I could easily see
myself taken with you (and I will admit that the first time I met you
at the party at my house at the beginning of the year, I was already
looking for ways to tear you and ben apart). But I dont want to
mislead you either- at this time I an utterly uninterested in our
current relationship evolving in any way whatsoever. What I am
interested in is that our current relationship play absolutely no role
in determining the status of your many other relationships, and mine
as well.

I am going to be mean now, because I think we have enough mutual
respect here to allow for cruelty to actually mean something, instead
of the nihilistic cruelty that strangers quite happily inflict on each
other. I wanted to know if you and T were ok, and why T is
pissed off at me, and you turned it into a ‘poor H’ story where
people seem to be deliberately mistreating you. You seem to do this a
lot. I think it is the central narrative in your life, and oh, I know
this will bug you, but it is a victimization rhetoric that is really
sort of wrong in a deep way. No one hates you, no one wants you to go
away. What they want is the same stability that you want, and they see
you as more a destablizer than anything. Even you admit that you are
something of the cause of the current instability in the Happiness
area, and I think this comes from a fundamental instability in your
own psyche, which I think you need to work on yourself before you try
to pawn it off on the philosophy students, who obviously can barely
hold their own head above water without your frantic splashing. You
are a wild card, and we like to play straight texas holdem.

H to me > 1. i’ve been emotionally unstable for as long as i can remember–my
two earliest memories are from when i was approximately 5 years old-
they are both fucked-up and i feel foreshadowing for the rest of my
life
2. my “poor H” rhetoric is the narrative of my life. i feel
very sorry for myself for being such a sorry person. also, i feel
rather defensive right now. ben’s been accusing me of playing people
off of each other and trying to destroy the department, even though
he is basically ignorant of everything that is going on. i basically
disregarded his opinion, despite it irritating me, so then for you
to second that opinion, well…
3a. i don’t understand this belief of yours that somehow the
philosophers are not “real human beings.” you guys are no more or
less sorry than anyone else.
3b. you have an assumption that i am not trying to
foster “meaningful relationships” with people, but that is not true.
i just don’t know how. i think i have a pretty damn good
relationship with joe, as much of one as anyone can have with joe.
and i have a decent relationship with you, despite my mucking it up
due to my inability to interact with others.

ok, i’m done numbering now. your criticisms of me are fairly
accurate and bring a lot of shit to mind. when i said i always felt
that i’m not cut out to be one of the living, i was serious. i never
know what the hell is going on. to be honest, i hate myself more
often than not. i’m aware of most of my faults, and yet, i can’t
seem to change anything.

before, i always had ONE friend. ONE. that’s all i can really
handle. i could have additional friends if they lived in other
states. any time i had more than one friend, my life became too
complex and things started falling apart. i’m not exactly sure why
this is. i think i worry too much and take shit way too seriously,
and that’s part of it. i’m also kinda a flimsy person around other
people.

i believe that coming out with you guys since octoberish marks my
longest, largest social venture EVER. i’m not surprised that i am
currently finding myself less and less able to handle it. so maybe
if i pretend that other people are sick of me, i can ignore the fact
that really i am sick of myself and start staying home away from
people and pretend it’s for other reasons than the simple fact that
i am unable to maintain even superficial relationships for any
extended period of time.

as far as T goes, that is a mess. i did take advantage of his
position. that’s the only true case for your accusations. he was
here, i was bored and lonely. but he actually started to grow on me,
and i like him a lot. the problem is that he started telling people,
which made me paranoid, because i am paranoid by nature and forever
fearing the judgments of others, then he assaulted you, which
started a whole new set of problems, and now i just look at what he
wants from me, and i don’t know that i have it. some of the things
you said about him rang somewhat true. i don’t know the extent to
which he actually likes me and how much of it is just him latching
on. either way, he is now completely convinced he likes me, he’s
told me many reasons why, so whether or not his belief is true, he
thinks it’s true. well, i’m so shady that i’m afraid what’s going to
happen. i don’t want to tear his world apart, fuck, i already have.
so there is care and concern there, but also fear, lots and lots of
fear. i don’t want to sound so egotistical as to think that if i
stopped seeing T, it’d be the end of his world. but i know how
freaked out he is already to be 30 years old, etc etc, and i feel
sorta like he’s one of those starving kids on tv and i start sending
my money, but i don’t know how long i’ll keep it up, then what? do
they go back to starving? i dunno. maybe it’s a dumb thing to worry
about.

i do like your solidarity with your department. philosophy students
this, philosophy department that. it could make for a series of
movie titles: H Does the Philosophy Department or H vs.
the Philosophy Department or How the MFA Stole the Philosophy
Students’ Christmas. whatever :)

oh, i’m so tired of talking about these things. no one is
deliberately trying to fuck me over except possibly myself.

______________

Like sand in an hourglass, so are the days of our lives.
16:16 :: :: eripsa :: permalink


Posting to MY BLOG

3.08.2005
I am sick and doped up on nyquil and I have been recieving emails all
day from students who didn't like the grade I gave them on their paper
and they are all like "but I worked so hard on this shitty paper" and
I'm all like "suck it, bithces" and they are all "but I dont deserve
this grade and bithces isn't a real words" and I'm all like "talk to
the nyquil, foo" and they are all like "stop hitting me" and I'm all
like guzzling the nyquil right out of the bottle and I can feel it
coat my throat with mediciny goodness and it makes me invincible and I
can run fast and do anything for about 5 minutes and then it kicks in
and I have to go to sleep but then I get more emails from my students
and I have lost any self-control and the TA training has gone right
out the window several semesters ago and so I dont care any more and I
am all just blatantly discriminating on the basis of gender and race
and intelligence and personality and I dont let anyone who is more
attractive than G'ogle pass my class which means no body passes my
class including Shelia the Monkey girl who is called 'monkey girl' not
because her body is covered in hair or because of her opposable thumbs
on her feet but because of her prehensile tail which she uses to
balance and stabilize herself while she is crawling from tree to tree
and believe me it is pretty hot when she does that with her tail,
which is why i consider her more attractive that G'ogle even though
technically she is a monkey and my human seed cannot impregnate her NO
MATTER WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH SAYS about contraception I know that I
am going to heaven where I can have unprotected sex with MOTHERFUCKING
ANGELS all the goddamned day which is sort of hard when you think
about it because angels dont have reproductive organs, or even bowels,
and it is just unclean to have oral sex with angels (because they like
to chew) but what the scripture doesn't tell you is that the skull of
an angel remains fractured just like a baby's skull, which means, and
I know you are like 3 steps ahead of me here, but for posterity: that
the best place to fuck an angel is right in the soft spot of their
head, right into their squishy brains, and if you get it right then
they tense up a bit, if you hit right on top of the brain stem, and
you can feel the little electric shocks of their little angelic
neurons firing all around your engorged member and brother it is
heaven, let me tell you.
00:31 :: :: eripsa :: permalink