This Could Be The Last Blog

This last blog is something that has been sitting on my mind for sometime now, I seem to be putting pressure on myself to have it be the best. I want to accurately capture my feelings about this course, in a provocative, profound way, and through all my mapping out in my head of how it will look, I never came up with a solid plan, so here it goes. This class has changed my life, and I think it's for the better. This being my first class with Sexson, I really had not idea what to expect. I remember seeing him in the hall ways, with his shock of white hair, and those eyes that looked like they could stare right through you. It, to me, seemed as though there was an aura surrounding him, like he had this force that resounded from his being, I saw the people talking to him, always were smiling, and it looked like they were honored to be in his presence. I now feel that same honor as I stand in his aura, he is increasingly knowledgeable, and immensely intelligent, but of course those of you who took his classes already know this. When describing this class to my friends, and the effect it had on me the only thing I could think of to reference was acid. For the first few weeks I felt completely and utterly overwhelmed. How can I keep up? Do I fit in this class? But eventually I learned how to cope, my narrowing my focus on what interested me the most. Looking at the blogs and class notes really helped. I began to come around and felt like I was learning, and that I was going to enjoy the class. However, even with this new view point I still felt anxieties when leaving class. Just like acid no matter how many times you take it each time is so strange, you cannot anticipate or prepare for it, you just have to live with it. I remember describing it to my friends as a mind fuck, taking everything I thought I had pinned down, and seeing it blow around in the wind once more. But I think that's the point. We need to feel this way or else we won't try to get out of it, and find meaning. We need to run into the wall and get back up again, or else we will never learn what it means to hit rock bottom, and nothing will ever be pleasurable again. We need to get knocked down, so we can pick ourselves back up and figure out what is important. In the context of the class themes reading and writing were thrown out the window, I had to redefine what I understood these thing to be. I found a new lease on life if you will. And in the future I hope have this same sense of wonder that I now have with literature. Beckett, Eliot, Joyce, I had no idea, but taking this class opened my eyes to a new reality a better one, one with meaning. So I will go into the world with this knowledge and change what I can, I've got my copy of The Four Quartets with me, as I fall deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole, maybe I'll see you on the other side.

Group Presentations Day #3

The presentations on Monday were very interesting, to say the least. I liked the incorporation of the movie clips into the class themes. Since books are associated with high brow and movies with low brow, I found it to be a perfect connection in the way in melded these ideas. "What we do in life, echos in eternity." It still kind of sends chills down my spine to think of that idea, but it's profoundly truthful, is it not. Also I liked hearing the Four Quartets being read by someone other than the Dr., no offense, it's just refreshing.

I was puzzled by the theme of the last group, or the last two for that matter, did both teams have, dolce domum, I'm guessing so. Anyway, I found the incorporation of the sun to be the epitome of recurrence, it always rises, but each day is unique and the same. The three classes of people also hit at an important theme in class, the language of the world and the different classes of people that speak them. Nice job capturing the essence of coming home again.

Group Presentations Day #2

The Life as Fiction group's movie was fantastically hilarious, I loved the characters and each person seemed to depict the epitome of the person they were representing. I really enjoyed the idea of having a program for people struggling with the anxiety that go along with the realization of being a character in a story. The idea of needing a twelve step program for it was nothing short of brilliant. Obviously we can all take something away from this presentation, that no matter who or what made us who we are, we still have control of our lives and we can do with them what every we want, well at least, relatively speaking.

Our presentation I feel did a good job of capturing the theme of eternal recurrence. Although I will admit I was a bit hesitant at first about making our presentation, all about farts and seeing no real connection between that and recurrence, I thought about it and Jennifer spoke of gas as the link. It now makes even more sense to me after hearing Dr. Sexson tell his story about gas at the morgue. The inclusion of "Box of Rain" came from an epiphany I had after a group meeting while listening to the song, I realized it captures almost every theme we discussed, if your not familiar with it I suggest you look it up. Keep On Truckin' with the presentations.

Term Paper Elements

I spoke with the Dr. before class today, although not without a little trouble finding his room, I think I walked by it twice. But anyway we discussed my topic, and he advocated that I put the Quartets first and look at Bob's words and music in this context not the other way around. So that's what I did, I just finished my first draft. I looked at how the themes of the eternal return, and life as fiction, manifest themselves in the Quartets, and how Bob's words are a reflection of their themes and ideas. I looked at the Rastafarian relgion as a whole and how Eliot wrote about similar concepts in his poems. I look forward to see what some of the other papers will be about.

Group Presentations Day #1

Today I though both groups did a great job of discussing the class themes in a fun and educational way. The life as dream group had an interesting take on the concept of life being an illusion. The journey Jon went on after he feel asleep contained a grerat incorporation of many of the elements we discussed in class, The Matirx, Alice and Wonderland, and others. I liked the props to its funny how some of the everyday things of life have duel purposes for the high brow community as well.

The twenty minute lifetime video was priceless, as it included much of the class topics in a hilarious context. It remined me of the extra credit videos we shot in high school for english. The group included many of the topics in a interesting way and even illustrated how the class itself is a lifetime in fifty minutes. They perfectly blended the high brow and the low brow in the material discussed and the manner in which it was presented.

Excellent Job and Congrats to both groups.

Finnaly Page

This is my page for Finnegans Wake, I choose it at random in the beginning of the semester. I is the second page from the chapter about ALP. So far I've been able to guess that its about a devious man named Reeve Gootch who I'm guessing is an Irish man based on its discussion of a derry. And the reference at the end about the Whale reminded me of Moby Dick which I'm currently reading for another class. The page also mentions a woman named Sabrine, who is a goddess, it reminded me of Sabina from SOOT. Don Dom Dombdomb.

Paper Thesis (Subject to Change)

After reading the preface and the introduction to this book, pictured left I believe I refined my topic and have come up with a thesis. Bob's immersion into the Rastafarian lifestyle in the early stages of his life and his sequential beliefs as they manifested themselves in his songs and his teachings relates to two of the themes of this class. The Myth of the Eternal Return, and Life as Fiction. Bob's message in his songs articulated a calling of self purification and redemption. "If you sing the right words it can live. It can live through the world and when the next world comes you don't need that anymore, there you need new words." He understood that things would always return to our lives and we should see them as something else when they come around again. Bob understood that his life was shaped by Jah, the Rastafarian God, and he saw his lyrics as a message of the lives people should be living. In this way he wrote what he believed our lives should be, and his life is no exception. I plan to look at Bob's life and how he came to see the world in this way, also I plan on doing a critical analysis of one or two of his songs, as they relate to these themes.

Best Of Both Worlds

I feel there is some commentary needed on the English verses Business debate and which can lead to an invigorating and more profound learning experience. When we were meeting in our group for the presentation, Justin had mentioned how the Dr. said he was from the enemy camp when he declared his major in Business. This debate seems to be quite relevant because I have heard it discussed in several classes both English and Business. The English people think Business is all about money and there is only one right answer. The Business people think English is too free form and has no merit in the real world. Although both of these views have some validity there is also an element of arrogance present. The Business people need to recognize that literature expands our minds by allowing us to view the world differently, it causes us to feel anxieties that result in feelings of curiosity which expand our consciousness. The English people need to recognize that not all of Business is about finite answers to money problems, rather there exists in Business an element of creativity in things like company structure and creating a business culture within the uniqueness of a particular field. In these ways it is evident that English and Business need each other, because whether we like it or not money is a part of this world, but English can be an escape. Where do I get off you might ask? Well, I suppose its time to reveal that I am my self a part of this, as Sexson so eloquently put it, part of the enemy camp, my minor is Business Administration. I have found that English and Business can co exist because they compliment each other, and yes we can all get along.

Newer Paper Contemplation

Last month when the Wailers were in town, I naturally listened to a lot of reggae both before and after the concert, it revived my interest in the genre. While I was listing to the songs as I biked to work, or walked to class I could not help but think about them in relation to the class themes. Many of Bob's songs are about redemption and self purification. The Myth of The Eternal Return, Dolce Domum, are two prevalent themes in his music. So I started to research about how Rastafarian tradition got its start. A man named Marcus Garvey started professing what would later become known as the Rastafarian religion. In the last 1920's he had a vision that the blacks in America and Jamaica alike needed to return to their native land, Africa. Although later in his life he was deemed a racial elitist for his purification beliefs, he had a profound effect in African culture and societal relations. I need to come up with a thesis still, but that's what I have so far. I'd like to focus more on what Bob was saying in his music as he was able to blend the Rastafarian beliefs and his musical talents in a way that sent a message to those listening.

Paper Contemplation

Recently I came across a song by the band Blind Melon, I must have listened to it about thirteen times, restarting it before it finished completely, until I had the lyrics and the chords memorized. It was so strange the song got me hooked and I could not stop listening to it, simply bizarre. Mainly I was drawn to the lyrics and of course I found a way to relate them to class. The song is called "No Rain" released in 1992 on their self-titled album. The one line that struck me was this, "And I don't understand why I sleep all day / Then I start to complain that there's no rain / And all I can do is read a book to stay awake / And it rips my life away, it's a great escape" Books allow us to put ourselves in other worlds to escape our own story even if for just a moment before we fall asleep. I'm noticing I connect this class with music quite often. Mostly reggae, blues, dancegrass, folk, rock, really everything. I dwell on this thought as a possible avenue for the paper.

Oh The Many Blogs You'll Read

I'm not ashamed to admit this is my first step into the world of social networking, I do not have a Bookface account or anything of similar conception. But I find this concept of blogging to be so intriguing it's almost intoxicating. I gives everyone a voice and all others a chance to hear that voice, it helps us to understand what we are learning and how it can be applied to basically anything else. But of course you all know that already. I will not name any blog in particular that has moved or intrigued me, I will just say they all do. Reading blogs, and reading blogs about blogs, make this an almost infinite resource for information and contemplation. Thanks to the Dr. I feel like my eyes have been opened to another reality. I'm learning in ways I never thought possible, and reading in ways I never imagined, and writing in methods I never even considered. And the blogs have been there the whole way. This is my first Sexson class, but I now know its invaluable appeal, I'm signed up for his Bible Lit class in the fall, its too bad I'll be graduating then, well not really, but you know what I mean. I hope to keep blogging in the future and I feel I will never let go of this literature we are studying, and the concepts we are exploring, and to help me in that endeavor I will always have "The Reason and The Rhyme" in my favorite website toolbar. So much for being a Ludite. (I think that's how it's spelled) Keep on Bloggin', I'll be readin'. Thank you, no thank you.

Story Following

Upon reading The Following Story a second time I consciously searched for connections with the class, here are some I made. Much of the book remined me of Beckett, adn how the author merely tries te tell a story, but ultimately can't, and along the way gives the reader clues to the existence of this problem. "But I can't talk to you like this: you can't be both in the story and not in it." It is utterly impossible to seperate the author from the work because so much of what wrting is, is so personal, and universal at the same time. We are merely looking for a different version of the story we have already heard, and living a life differently than we were before. The notion of not knowing where or who you are when ouy wake up still sends chills down my spine. We can never really know can we, if this is just a dream, or what we will wake up to if it is. We can only hope that when our eyes open everyday we remember where we were and how to explore it again.

Smart Alice

Today in class I noticed Rio was setting down his pen in a peculiar manner, it seemed as if it was a very fragile writing utensil. Then in hit me the smart pen, is he recording it right now, I asked, so I checked it later and while I was listing to the audio, I decided I should blog about my highbrow lowbrow experience over spring break. My buddies Craig, and Paul accompanied me to a screening of Alice In Wonderland, while watching the movie I couldn't help but think of this class and its many universally applicable themes. The way the Mad Hatter reacts to Alice's claim that he is just a fictional character in her dream reminded me of the life as fiction theme. The anxiety expressed by someone who wants to exist but in reality does not, is really intriguing. After the movie the three of us headed up to Bear Canyon, as we parked the car the bright sun lit up the trees and illuminated the snow. I reached in the back seat to grab my back pack, filled with essentials. Prior to the trip I filled it up with, a water bottle, a notebook, a frisbee, and The Quartets. When I was in my room I saw it sitting by my bed and to this day I really can't even explain it, but in the process of packing I was compelled to bring the book with me. The group now moved of the trial and we began to climb on mud covered, dirt filled, sparingly snowy terrain. We eventually got to a group of protruding rock formations, the three of us made it to a relatively flat area which had a panoramic view of the valley. I told my roommates that I brought some poetry for the trip. I told them I could read some of it, if they wanted to hear it of course. I could feel a bit of tension as the words let my mouth. 'We won't really understand it, and probably wouldn't read it on our own, but we'll listen, sure', they must be thinking. 'There's a higher spot we can go to,' 'Yeah I can read it up there' I said. Climbing, I start to notice that I'm not really paying that much attention to where I'm placing my feet. I just follow Paul and my feet seem to just follow what my eyes see, its like my eyes are telling my legs what to do with out letting my brain do it instead. We make it to the top, and the view is sublime, a bit terror inducing, made you aware of your utter significance when compared to the vast all encompassing sights of nature. I reach into the pack and flip to the last section of "Little Gidding" 'Are you guys ready' I question

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

They nod politely, but it has that same characteristic of a similar facial gesture one gives when they receive a pair of green wool socks from their aunt on christmas.I told them that I seem to always be carrying this book around with me and I had never done that before with an english book. I like the this stuff can be read over and over again and still not be completely explored. It's immensely complex but equally rewarding and only a few of us experienced souls read it.

Shine On, Alchemist, Shine On

Today I finished reading The Alchemist, and overall I really enjoyed the book. The story was a very intriguing take on exploration and finding one's purpose in life. The way the book was written gave it its own flow and I as a reader felt compelled to keep reading. I could have underlined almost every line in the book, each sentence it seemed, was packed with meaning that not only gave to characters in the book significance, but life as well. Here are a few of the lines I felt had the most profound effect on me. "When someone makes a decision, he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision" (68). This concept is something I've been mulling over in my brain recently. We as people try to do what makes us happy and what we think will make others happy, but every time we decide something we open up a box, if you will, and we never really know what we're gonna get. "'Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now'" (85) Live in the now. It's something I've have also been trying to do, seize the day man, because this moment right now is never coming back. "There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world. Without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning" (93). "And that's where the power of love comes in. Because when we love, we always strive to become better than we are" (151). The last two quotes I feel really get at what love can and should do for people. It makes everything better and meaningful. Because what is life if you've got no one to share it with. This book really moved me it taught me about how important it is to follow your dreams, and that even if we want to give up, there are people in the world who will help us. We are all the same at heart and that's where we need to look. I found a passage from the Quartets that I think captures this book. "...And what you thought you came for / Is only a shell, a husk of meaning / From which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled / If at all. Either you had no purpose / Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured / And is altered in fulfillment."

Also one of the last scenes from the book when the boy becomes one with the wind reminded me of a song by the band, Jet. The song is called "Shine On" and the lyrics are as such.

Please don't cry
You know I'm leaving here tonight
Before I go I want you to know that there will always be a light

And if the moon had to runaway
And all the stars didn't wanna play
Don't waste the sun on a rainy day
The wind will soon blow it all away yeah

So many times I'd planned
To be much more than who I am
And if I let you down I will follow you 'round until you understand

That if the moon had to runaway
And all the stars didn't wanna play
Don't waste the sun on a rainy day
The wind will soon blow it all away
yeah oh yeah

When the days all feel the same
Don't feel the cold or wind or rain
Everything will be okay
We will meet again one day
I will shine on, for everyone

So please don't cry
Although I leave you here this night
Where ever I may go how far I don't know
I will always be your light

And if the moon had to runaway
And all the stars didn't wanna play
Don't waste the sun on a rainy day
The wind will soon blow it all away
yeah oh yeah

When the days all seem the same
Don't feel the cold or wind or rain
Everything will be okay
We will meet again one day
I will shine on, for everyone
shine on, for everyone
When the stars all look the same
Don't feel the cold or wind or rain
Everything will be okay
We will meet again one day
I will shine on, for everyone
shine on, for everyone

It's a song about aspiring to your own greatness and how that greatness will affect all those around you, and the way it talks about the sun, moon and wind, was pretty cool too.

This Class Is Everywhere

I'm starting to notice how much these class themes can be applied to basically everything, I feel as though I now look at things differently now, in regards to literature, and, I guess everything else. I can't even watch the lowest of the low brow anymore like I used to, t.v., my mind immediately goes to the class themes and I only seem to pay attention to the elements of the show or movie that can relate to these ideas. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is about a man who ages backwards, be us born a small baby with the physical makeup of an eighty year old, as time goes on he just gets younger. At one point Benjamin returns to the first home he has ever know, and his mother greets him and he responds with, "Everything looks the same." And she says something to the effect of, "When ever you return home it's the same, but it's you that has changed." I now refer you to T.S. Eliot's The Four Quartets, "We shall not cease from exploration / And the end of all our exploring / Will be to arrive where we started / And know the place for the first time." On the show Californication I witness a blending of the high and low brow. I know that the book Lolita has been mentioned in regards to how it is a story about a pedophile, but what it should be read for is its language and how it tells us its just a story. Anyway in this particular episode the main character, Hank, has just written a book which he says, "...is a modern version of Lolita..." there are several things going on here. First, that Hank's admittance that this is a novel similar to another communicates his understanding that this has already been done before, this is just his exploration of a particular plot. Second, the story is directly borrowed from a real life event that happened to him, life as fiction. Third, he sees this as a return to his old self, because it has been his first piece in a long time, except he knows it for the first time. So yeah.

The Matrix

Deciding what to fill this post with I chose to write about one of the earliest definitions of matrix I remember encountering. In Algebra I believe it was, we were introduced to a matrix which is a group of numbers with an equal amount of numbers in rows and columns, the size is infinite. The purpose of this matrix as I remember it was to give several numbers which then would be used sequentially to be substituted into any given equation for a specific variable. This sounds way to much like a P2C2E, but that's what all math to me feels like. In the context of this class I think my algebraic definition can be used for its infinite possibilities. If we think of our selves as the equations and life as the numbers, it is us who chooses what the story will tell. Because our stories have already been told we can look to Finnegans Wake as the greatest most encompassing matrix of them all. Well, I guess math does have a place in this world.

Isolation That Purifies

The concept of seclusion and isolation as it is articulated in the play through Prospero's and Miranda's solitariness on the island go me thinking. Mainly about books. Prospero's books have essentially caused him to have a limited social life, besides being banished of course. He is consumed by his books and they have lead him to ascertain great powers. I'm remined of a passage I read in my LIT 420 class, a critical theory class about Harold Bloom's view on literature. The passage comes from his book called, The Anxiety of Influence, in which he writes about the only way in which a modern poet can aspire to true greatness, is to feel, "a sorrow that purifies in isolation." This quote really stuck me with a profound feeling, I read it twice over and underlined it boldly. I think this idea of self reflection can really lead to great things, because there is so much we can be influenced by, yet the exploration of the self leads to a path of profoundly great writing. However, I think after the self is discovered we can then go out and experience the world, in a more knowledgeable and profound way. Much like Miranda, who has only known herself, sees her world as wonderful and awe inspiring, we as writers and people alike need to find ourselves before we find our world.

Puppet Or Even A Slave

The class current class theme is one that can make your head feel as though it will explode if you dwell on it for too long. We can't see our world as fake or illusion if we've never seen what it really is. So in my opinion, just like its been discussed before, is to live in the now. When looking at the analogy of Plato's cave, the concepts of puppets was brought up. Are we really puppets being controlled or written about in someone's novel maybe. But I'm reminded of a Jimmy Cliff lyric from the song "The Harder They Come." When I was a kid my mom used to play this album religiously, along with "American Beauty" and "So Far" by the Dead and CSNY respectively. Anyway the lyric goes, "I'd rather be a free man in my grave than living as a puppet or even a slave." In the context of the cave, I think this can mean we need to understand what we can control and what we can't. Because so much of our world is left to fate, but not all of it. We as people living in this dream can make a future for ourselves, but we have to learn how to make it happen, even if it comes to fruition in another time.

Vive Sus Sueños

The topic of the Tempest, life as a dream, I still find to be very intruging. Mostly because we may never find the answer, at least in this life. I just read Christina's new post about the play called "La Vida es un Sueño" and it got me thinking about something, just like this class always does, about other things this applies to in life, really they are limitless. I enjoy longboarding, its the closest you can come to flying on the sidewalks, and tenth street, which is just a couple of blocks from my house is a favorite spot of mine. It has smooth asphalt, and a perfect slope, not too fast, not too slow, perfect for trippin'. Anyway there is this trailer, camper deal on the street that is painted with bright and vibrant colors. It has depictions of rainbows, children, and I think there is a dog also, oh the lists. At the top of the rear of the trailer it says, Vive Sus Sueños, live you dreams. It never really occurred to me what that meant until just recently. I take it to mean, that life its self is a dream, and we must live in it as such. We need to understand life as a dream, in it anything is possible, the sky is the limit, we make our own destiny, we must go on into the dream and keep dreaming the all the way through.

Life is Fiction

I forgot how deep and moving a movie, Stranger Than Fiction Was, obviously it had a great connection to this class. I liked the part where Kay, was saying, "I killed eight people." Beckett rang though my head, no surprises there. The epiphany came when Dr. Sexson, said, "What story are you in." It was the only line in my notes that day. I have often struggled with this concept myself. I sometimes find my self looking around at people, and thinking, there not real people, as if someone just made them up. I think we have all been here before, because we already existed before, we just keep getting another chance, until we get it right. This just reminded my of The Truman Show, a movie staring Jim Carrey, where he plays a man living in a fake world, literally everyone he knows and sees are actors and he basically lives in a studio for most of his life, and the show is filmed as broadcast on T.V. in the real world. That makes me ask, how could anyone of us really know the difference, maybe this life is fake, maybe I'm just an actor? Leafing through "Burnt Norton" I stumbled across this, "...Words strain, / Crack and sometimes break, under the burden, Under the tension, slip, slide, perish / Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place, / Will not stay still." It made me think about stories and how they try to capture life, try to make it a dream or just a story. Yet as time goes on these words cannot create this perfect dream or story. So keep writing is the answer I guess, I do not guess, I know.

Curb Your Aspergers

The other day in class someone mentioned asperger's syndrome, when we were discussing some of Beckett's characters. I was reminded of a lowbrow show I enjoy watching called, Curb You Enthusiasm. The show centers on Larry David, Seinfeld co-creator, and his horribly socially awkward life as a celebrity in living in L.A. The show is basically life as fiction in that it is loosely based on his real life experiences in a free form unscripted show. Dr. Sexon's story about his airplane ride reminded me of an episode in which Larry determines he can't fire a chef he recently hired, who he just learned has turrets syndrome and will curse at random, because noticed he has numbers on his arm, which Larry believes to be a mark of a Holocaust survivor. These plots make the simple so complex, and everything always comes full circle. Anyway Larry is talking to the chef one day about the lottery, and he finds out the chef was one number away from winning the jackpot, and after divulging this news to Larry he licks his fingers and wipes of the numbers on his arm. Larry obviously, astonished, must have felt similar to Dr. Sexson, he felt deceived, but it was his own thoughts that put the importance on the numbers on the arm, he created his own fiction in life, interesting connection, the more I think about it this show has a lot to do with this class. I recommend checking it out for lowbrow versions of class themes, such as Life as Fiction, Eternal Return, and others possibly.

Preparation For Exam I

"In my beginning is my end. In succession / Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended, / Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place / Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass." The first three lines of East Coker. As we were going over the material for this first exam, I became aware that I'm really getting familiar with the Four Quartets. I knew what the beginning of Dry Salvages, when the Dr. asked us to recite it. And I still am obsessed with Little Gidding, its talk of summer, nature, fire, and purpose and exploration are intriguing to me. I want to keep reading, it over and over again, until makes sense, or maybe until it makes no sense at all, anyway, I love reading it because it keeps me in the now. I had no idea this class who effect me so, I feel like I'm uncovering new things everyday, in literature, and my mind. Emergent Lit is my Wonderland, and I feel so many fantastic colors, now, but I hope I will feel them forever, and the only way that will happen is if I never let reading and writing leave my life.

Unnamable The

"This is to say I have to go on." Beckett reveals himself here and tells me the meaning, or attempted meaning, of what he just wrote. He knows that he must go on, but there is a sense of anxiety at this claim, almost as if to ask, what does it matter? I'm starting to see this appeal to Beckett's style, it almost as if you're watching a play being performed in front of you, and you try jump on the stage and tear off the actors masks and costumes, and rip down to props and backdrop, to see what is truly being said. Beckett, as I understand, is trying to communicate this idea to us through the formulation or lack of formulation of a plot, characters, and action, and as a result tells the story of the process of writing. "There are no days here, but I use the expression." This whole chapter so far has been nothing but expressions, phrases trying to capture the essence of other phrases. "No, all is not clear. But the discourse must go on." I feel the need to not repeat myself, refer above. Actually I'll give a bit of commentary. This to me is an expression of the limitlessness or writing that leads to great anxieties as the writer sifts through the great sea of stories. Knowing ultimately he will not succeed, but presses on anyway.

The Impossibility Of

Writing is it really, impossible? I've often thought about writing, but not to this extent. Writers like Beckett have told me that anything can be made up, and therefore nothing is real, but we should keep trying to find ourselves in our writing, because its the process that is important. In a small nut shell. One aspect of the impossibility of writing that I've come to know in my own trails in the field, is the limitless of it all. There is so much to write about, it is simply daunting to try and write about it all. When I'm writing something I find there are some many paths to travel down as you write, you simply cannot choose them all, hence the roads you do choose, and even the ones you don't choose, will ultimately determine how you solved to attempt to put an end to the limitlessness of this thing called writing, because it was as you saw it, and as you choose to write about it.

Furthur With Dr.Sexon

Emergent Literature is changing me, I've noticed and I believe I have come up with the perfect analogy in which I will be able to articulate how this change has been manifesting itself. Professor Sexson, is Ken Kesey, we are the Merry Pranksters, and Emergent Lit is the 1939 International Harvester bus. Sexson gives us an idea, a concept, a hit if you will. He wants to open our minds let us experience things in literature we have never thought about before. This discussion of high brow and low brow literature has opened my mind, and reading and writing will never be the same. Sometimes after I leave class I feel overwhelmed with want I've experienced, I try to think about everything he has taught us and literally feels as though my head will explode. There is too much to even try to pin down. But what makes me feel better is to look at one thing at a time, one genre, one text, one page, one line, one word, and determine what I know it now means. I see things for what they really are now, and how it all works. I feel changed from taking this class, I feel as though Professor Sexson has opened my mind to the joys and anxieties of literature and I will never be the same again. I'm on the bus learning from him as we go furthur and furthur, and I love every minute of it.

Where's Beckett?

Although I found the Molloy reading to be somewhat tedious at first I kept on reading looking for some trace of Beckett's authorship in the text. I like how he uses a kind of stream of consciousness to push the story forward. It to me seems energetic and authentic in a way. The following are five places in the text in which I felt I could sense the fictional characteristics of the novel. 1.) "This explanation subsequently turned out to be the correct one. But I added..." Beckett tells us what he is writing but, let's his characters go uninformed. 2.) "I shall not describe our attitudes, characteristic his of him, mine of me." I think Beckett means he will not describe these things to the reader. 3.)"To look at them he would have to hide from his father" Right before this Moran refers to him self in the first person, here I think Beckett is letting us know this is what it would be like, if this were a real story. 4.)"And saying many other things besides, belonging to separate and apparently unconnected trains of thought" The word apparently here got me thinking is this Moran's thoughts about his thoughts as Beckett writes them, and I said yes it is. 5.)"I could have made myself a pillow of the bags, but I did not, it did not occur to me." Where some might see this as a reflection of the narrator, I see Beckett telling us he did not want Moran to have that thought, so he didn't. I found the task of reading this whole novel in one sitting to be a far too tremendous and anxiety educing task, but so far so good, I might even think it's so nice, I'll read it twice.

Occurance in Emergent Lit

Given that the current theme of the class is the twenty minute lifetime, was reminded of a story I read way back in high school. Although the professor mentioned this in class earlier it had already been brewing in my mind. What takes literally an instant, the rope to get tight, the man experiences days and days of traveling home. Although he did not live a life in that moment I think the same demons are at play here. Having great experiences in an instant. While I'm blogging I might as well blog about the emergence of high brow lit at my place with my roommates. I felt so moved by the line I found in Little Gidding that I had to put it on the white board on the fridge. It being a high traffic area, I hinted that someone should read it. After on of my mates stared at the white board for a minute, he gave me a puzzled look. "Well, I can tell its deep, but I just don't get it, I'll have to read it over again." "And again", I said. And that's the point of high brow, is it not.

A Little Gidding

I opened my copy of The Four Quartets today looking for something that would relate to the next theme in the class. I went through the book aimlessly reading passages where ever my eyes drifted to. Upon opening to Little Gidding I loved the way Eliot talked about how, "Midwinter Spring is its own season." To me he seemed to be advocating that there is a lifetime of experiences and happenings in this moment. At first I began to attribute this to the first theme, in the way he discussed to the cyclical nature of this unique time and place. Then I came to a line that read, "...And what you thought you came for / Is only a shell, a husk of meaning / From which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled / If at all. Either you had no purpose / Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured / And is altered in fulfillment." Does this mean we may never know why we do things, or if we do sometimes things change, and if they do change we should still try to give it significance, because in the end that's what we were supposed to do anyway, we just didn't see it at the time, but that's life right, just keep on pushing for what you desire, and then things will happen, some good some bad, but you learn every step of the way, and keep fightin'. I think so. It made me think about, "The Inner Light" where Picard tries to find what the meaning of his life as captain, but at that point in time he was supposed to be Kamin, in order to remember these people, so they would exist in his mind. The twenty minute lifetime has its own purpose, even if we do not understand why at the time.

List of Things, Cause Thats All They Are

Above my door frame as you enter my room is a broken drum stick that reminds me of the band I used to be in until we broke up. Under the light switch is the paper liner of a package of guitar strings, Ernie Ball, Beefy Slinky gauge, and underneath that is part of a Rockin' Rudy's bag I cut out after I visited the store in March. Next to these items are two posters to remind me of my punk rock phase, Green Day and Weezer. Next to that is the poster of a concert that took place in Billings two winters ago, Frostbite, and under that is the 2005 poster for the annual Magic City Blues Fest in Billings. Over my closet door is yet another broken drum stick and on the next space of wall is more posters and memorabilia. First is the poster I got when I saw the Who in Salt Lake City, ten bucks, under that is a poster for a concert I went to in high school, it was fundraiser for the speech and debate team featuring a Irish punk band from Oregon called Amadan which means idiot in Celtic. Then there is my annual Christmas gift from my Grandfather, a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit calendar, surrounded by the 2004 and 2003 Magic City Blues Posters. Now on the East wall I see a pin up girl with a yarn wool hat super glued on her head, a goofy gift from my Aunt two years ago, another Magic City Blues poster this one from 2006, a psychedelic Jimi Hendrix poster, a poster featuring the main piano chords and a Frisbee, a white board featuring song lyrics containing the word "high", and another liner of Ernie Ball strings, this one acoustic, hanging from the curtain rod are four stuffed boys from South Park I got out of a claw machine in New Jersey, Stan, Kyle, Eric, and Kenny.

List of Finnegan

Lists. There are many forms many kinds many styles many purposes, really there could be a long list on the various types of lists there are. But when I was flipping through Finnegans Wake I found the list that Leubner had discussed with us. It starts on 104 and goes 'til 107. "Her untitled mamafesta memorialising the Mosthighest has gone by many names at disjointed times. Thus we hear of, The Augusta Angustissimost for Old Seabeastius'..." Her untitled manifesto memorializing the most highest has gone by many names at disjointed times. A list about lists. Each item on the list seems to be a satire or ridiculous jumble of words, but I think there is more here maybe. Here are a few of my favorites of the list in a list. Of the Two Ways of Opening the Mouth, Cowpoyride by Twelve Acre Terriss in the Unique Estates of Amessican, Lumptytumtumpty had a Big Fall, The Mimic of Meg Neg and the Mackeys, L.S.D.

Being Bill

After we watched the segments from Groundhog's Day, I left class feeling a bit strange due to Dr. Sexson's advice, I believe. I wanted to try to remember everything that was happening but, after about two minutes of trying to remember the morning, I decided to give up and try to be selfless and live this day for others. Perhaps it is coincidence, but on Sunday night I extracted my father's dog, Bo, from a potentially bad situation. See Bo had had an accident in the house I knew my father would not treat him with the love he deserves that night so, I took him home with me. All day Monday I thought of Bo, I visited him between classes and took him to the dog park. In a way I was like Bill Murray's character in that I lived that day for Bo. I love that dog. Wouldn't trade him for anything.

Bedroom Checklist

The first thing I hear in the morning is "What I Got" by Sublime. I set it as my alarm, before it goes off in the morning, I sometimes wake up once, like in my dream, I hear the song in my head, but don't open my eyes, next I really hear it, then I really wake up. The groovin' beat of the drums make a great compliment to the easy flowing acoustic guitar riff, backed by a thumpin' bass line. Now I'm awake. I look up and see a large deep green, rich blue, and vivid purple tapestry with for identical depictions of a an ariabin looking man on the back of a camel with what looks like a gypsy woman, in each corner surrounding a large eight pointed shape with a background of multicolored leaves growing next to each other. I reach over to turn off the alarm just as the phone stops singing. I see posters of Bob Marley, Joan Jett, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Clash, The Ramones, Weezer, Green Day, The Who, and Jimi Hendrix through the glimmer of the street lights that peer through the window. I get up to turn on the light and pass by a PA system, a Casio keyboard, a Ibanez bass, a Fender Strat, a t.v., and my computer sitting in front of a rack of Cd's. I see two closest one stuffed full of yarn to be crocheted into hats, and middle to upper level english text books I hope to read again someday, the other has boxes stuffed on the top shelf above my extra clothes. It's not much, but its home.

First Following Story

After just having read The Following Story I began to reflect on its characteristics in light of the first class theme, the eternal return. The whole concept of waking and not waking up I find very intriguing. One might argue that we never in fact wake up, or is it that we never fall asleep. Regardless I think there is nothing more important than the now, right here. The narrator's many personalities, Socrates, Dr. Strabo, and Herman Mussert seem to be fighting for a sign of recognition of existance. And through it all I found it very interesting that the narrator kept insisting that he loved Maria Zeinstra. I'm now reminded of a Sublime lyric, "Life is too short, So love the one you got." Maybe that's all that matters right, love. Now I sound like a hippie, but I think its true. We can try to define ourselves throughout life, picking which personality suits us. But that is all internalized isn't it. A person's life is not defined by the connections between selves, rather it is defined by the connections to others.

Finnegans Page

On random I opened my book up to page number 197 and decided this would be my page to become the expert on. After reading it over several times, underlining important passages, I got a sense of what it was talking about. The page starts of discussing the various actions and characteristics of a person named Reeve Drughad. It goes it to his other names and then begins to talk about a woman, perhaps his wife. After this it discusses man's tragic fall and how women also bring happiness. After some discussion of a man named Don Dom Dombdomb it then shifts to talk about tales and how they are sold. To the best of my abilities this is what happens on this page and the following are the few sentences I've chosen to memorize. "Who blocksmitt her saft anvil or yelled lep to her pail? Was her banns never loosened in Adam and Eve's or were him and her but captain spliced? For mine ether duck I thee drake. And by my wildgaze I thee gander."

Haroun and Emergent Lit

Haroun and the Sea of Stories, no doubt has a kind of children's book feel to it with all its fantasy elements and wild imaginative characters and situations. I feel it has much to do with our class. First, its a story about stories much like Finnegans Wake, it tries to tell the readers where stories come from and how they are made. On page 73 Rushdie writes, "What Haroun was experiencing, though he didn't know it was Princess Rescue Story Number S/1001/ZHT/420/41(r)xi;" I think Rushdie was hitting on something important here the question of how many stories can really exist in the world. It can't be infinite, right, at some point all stories will meld and mix together. I think in this light we need to change how we view stories. We need to understand that it all exists already, we just need to give the world our own little twist. As far as the first theme of the class is concerned Haroun in a sense never really returns to his world because one could say he never really left. He projects elements and characters of his life into what he experiences with the water genie. This to me means that as we go about our lives we never really experience new things we merely learn new way to experience them. This is to say everything should already be familiar to us in a sense and we simply need to find new ways to make this life and this world exciting.

Like the Water Genie Said

Yesterday a fellow English Lit major friend of mine approached me with one of his papers for an upper level literature class, and asked me if i would revise it for him. I said, sure thing man, no problem, what are friends for right, and I read the paper. It was really no good, rubbish, I should have told him to throw it away. He wrote just like he talked, as if he'd recorded his voice and typed it out word for word, he used words such as like, so, then, well. I told him he had to seriously revise it, read it over, talk it out loud, give it the old in and out real savage. So he did. He gave me the revised copy, a little better, I said, slightly less stupid, a bit more tolerable. He turned it in, and received a zero, a goose egg, nada, zip, zilch, he should have listened to me.

Laugh At Beckett

Starting at page 92 I immediately was familiar with the material I was reading, Beckett. Much like the dialogue in Waiting for Godot there seemed to be nothing said in the first page of text. Full of contradictions and repetitiveness I was annoyed but kept reading. I laughed out loud, or snickered if you will at the part about being lazy. It is often the claim of the laziest of men to say that he is not in fact lazy, when truly he is. I thought about my personal feelings on being lazy, in my opinion it takes a strong commitment to be lazy you really have to be devoted to nothing, sounds like too much work, not for me.

Haroun and Socrates in Wonderland

After having just finished reading both The Following Story and Haroun and the Sea of Stories I'm interested to see what we will discuss in Friday's class. The theme of the eternal return was constantly on my mind as I read through the novels. I felt both books made an interesting commentary on the epistemology of existence. Socrates and Haroun both had to decide for themselves what was real and controllable and what was not. I believe I would be more like Haroun if I was thrown into a similar situation, I would ask less questions and live more in the moment, unlike Socrates. I would try to embrace my existence and not try to figure out what it means, because as I've learned many times even the biggest questions in life will always be unanswered, life's a garden so dig it man.