Wednesday, 20 August 2008

I just had a FYPiphany!!!

Immediately afterwards, I coined the term FYPiphany. I'm almost more pleased with that then I am with the actual FYPiphany.

So, yeah, I'm busy contemplating the relation between Darwin and Descartes, because somehow the whole "inherent perfection" thing didn't hit me until just now, so I'm just a little shell-shocked as I try to figure out what this means.

Okay, so maybe I didn't get to the actual FYPiphany yet. But I know that one's coming, it's just a matter of figuring out what it is. I think realizing that there's a FYPiphany to be had hits a lot harder than when you finally figure out what it means.

Also, I'm frustrated because I can't remember which Neoplatonist it was that said that philosophy and theology are the same, except that philosophy uses language and theology uses symbols. I was just skimming through my notes, but I couldn't find it, and I don't have the ambition at the moment to actually read through all of my Neoplatonist notes.

I think, maybe, that sometime, in the next few years, I'm going to figure out religion.


Saturday, 16 August 2008

I don't read the script, the script reads me.

Tropic Thunder... was weird. I liked the concept of the movie. I don't think I actually liked the movie.

I was driving home, listening to Great Big Sea, and I realized how much I miss having the random sing-along-to-GBS parties in my room.

I cannot believe that summer is almost over!

I think this might actually have been the best summer of my life. I'm not even kidding.

I feel like Final Countdown is haunting me... it's actually quite bizzare how many people have referenced it and how many random places I've heard it playing in the past week. If I were one to believe in fate and signs and stuff (which I may or may not be, who knows?), I might take this as one. Or it could just be a weird coincidence.

I had the weirdest dream the other night... All sorts of crazy shit happened, but the weirdest part was the people... in one part of the dream, there would be someone I know, and then in another part it would be a character from Making Love, and in some other part it would just be a random dream person - but they were all the same person, somehow. And then there were other people, who were people I know, but... they weren't.

I kind of feel like that's how life is right now... people are just getting all confused, I know them but I don't know them, they're them but they're someone else, they're part of my life but they're not. I don't know.

Emotions are weird.

Speaking of which, I think I'm starting to fall for Making Love. The theory is just so easy to believe... it's all made up, it's all a lie! Maybe it's only believable because, in a weird sort of way, I want to believe it? "Love is the most subtle and insidious assault on free will known to man."

Two of the points in this post contradict each other. I'm not sure what to make of that. I think that's where a third of the above points comes in.

Have I mentioned lately that this week has been insane? I've just felt like I was going in a million directions all at once. I will be very glad to not have to go to work tomorrow morning.

Well, I guess it's this morning now, isn't it.

I wish Canada would man up and win something.

I think I might be going crazy. I keep thinking I see things out of the corners of my eyes, but when I turn to look, there's nothing there. Whenever I'm alone, I have random fits of laughter or crying. I swear, I'm losing it.

Bat shit insane.

Wednesday, 13 August 2008

Uhh, I feel like I should be writing in this more often. I don't know, I'm just so busy... working. And... seeing friends. And... making plans to see friends. And... playing Travian. And... reading Making Love. And... not wanting to go back to school.

Yeah. Important stuff like that.

I keep telling myself that I'll have more time once I get back to school, but I definitely remember being in school in April and wiating for summer, when I would have more time.


Is there ever enough time? How much time is enough? Maybe we have the exact right amount of time, but we just don't choose to use it properly... Does time even exist? Or is it all a construct?

Okay, I'm not going to ramble about time. I promise.

Monday, 4 August 2008

The Summer of Strange Books

I think this could, quite appropriately, be called "The Summer of Strange Books." Especially the past few weeks. It started with The Comfort of Strangers by Ian McEwan, which was just plain weird. I probably would have stopped partway through, but it was very well-written, because I had to know what happened... and besides, it was only 100 pages. The next Ian McEwan that mom had out from the library, Amsterdam, sounded mor promising, so I picked that up. Weird, but in a completely different sort of way. An odd little book. Enjoyable, but just a strange ending. Perfect though - there was no other way for it to end. I guess that's kind of the point.

After that I moved on to the books I picked up from the $2 table. I started with Give Me by Irina Denezhkina. I have to say, it wasn't quite as good as I was expecting. For one thing, there were way too many characters crammed in for a short story, and, especially as the names were all Russian, it was nearly impossible to keep them all straight. Some of the stories, though, were very good (Songs for Lovers), others seemed rather pointless (Valerochka), and others were just strange (Vasya and the Green Men; Postscript). I think, though, that overall, I enjoyed it. It might be one I have to reread once I've had time to let my brain process it a bit.

Then I tackled Child of My Heart by Alice McDermott. It was a very touching book; although it didn't quite make me cry, the last few hours that I was reading it, there was a lump in my throat the whole time. I love how all of the seemingly abstract bits do fit together once you reach the end. The effect as a whole was incredible. It left me feeling sort of... haunted. I loved it.

So now I'm on to Making Love: A Conspiracy of the Heart by Marius Brill. Although I'm not that far into it yet, I can tell that it's going to be strange, too.