Adso

Mon, 14 Apr 2003 20:00:41 GMT

Late yet unfinished English essay

In all the novels that Emma Bovary covets, romantic love is an integral part of reality and the apex, even the purpose, of life. In her own reality, however, as depicted in Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, romantic love is the cause of life’s destruction. However, when accompanied by true love, Flaubert portrays romantic affection as endearing, for it renders Charles, Emma’s boorish husband, the only admirable character in the book. Through Emma, Flaubert demonstrates that romantic love is a dangerous thing to indulge in alone, but when accompanied by true, enduring love, as it is in Charles, and taken in restrained doses, it can impart joy to the most mundane of lives, and is not something to be either eschewed or exploited.
Emma does not demonstrate actual love for a single person in the entire book. Her brief excitement about Charles is little more than confusion and quickly fades into boredom. Towards her own daughter she shows only intermittent interest, as though she could only be bothered to pretend affection for her when it suited her current fantasy. Even with Rodolphe and Leon, to whom she professes so much adulation, her love is superficial and selfish; she only cares about them so long as they can support her ridiculously romantic and extravagant dreams. Never knowing love, Emma cannot distinguish her feelings for her lover from actual love, which lures her repeatedly into relationships doomed to failure. She perceives the fabricated professions of passion that Rodolphe pours into her ears as an ideal love that her husband has failed to provide. Rodolphe’s feelings for her, false from the beginning, are predictable short-lived. Emma, having mistaken his lust for enduring love, is devastated. Later, even Leon, who was not so consciously deceitful as Rodolphe, loses interest in Emma, for the attraction that brought them together was hollow and devoid of true devotion. Thus, romantic love

Thu, 03 Apr 2003 04:14:34 GMT

Yeah, so after five minutes of thinking and two days of getting used to the idea, I am set on Hamilton college.

This is how it went.

I got into SUNY Geneseo and Binghamton (no surprise there, if you'll forgive my arrogance) and also Stonybrook, even though I never actually mailed in my supplement. This was no reassurance to me though, as I didn't really want to go to any of those places.

Then I got into Union college, my liberal arts safety. This is nice, except for the financial aid, which is minimal. I am expected to pay $30,000. Thus, this acceptance does not even count.

The next day I heard from Bates and Colby. Bates waitlisted me (the audacity!) and Colby accepted, but again, $30,000 is expected. That two colleges gave the same stinky offer led me to think that all colleges I was accepted into would do the same, which would be a disaster. Sorry Lena, but the SUNY's are just too big for me. I really wanted to go to a little selective liberal arts college. And it was beginning to look like that was an impossiblity.

Panic-stricken and depressed, I didn't get out of bed until the mailman came the next day. He brought a little envelope and a big one. The little one was Swarthmore, which out-right rejected me in the most impolite terms ("This letter is to inform you that you have not recieved a place in our class of 2007", was the first sentence). The big one was from Hamilton - it was an acceptance obviously, but more importantly, it contained a decent financial aid offer. I knew I was going to be okay.

Bowdoin and Middlebury both informed me in gentle tones that though I was completely qualified to be their classes, there simply weren't enough seats to go around, and I had thus been waitlisted. But that was okay, because I had Hamilton.

I decided that I didn't really want to bother with the stress of waitlisting, and doubted that I would get a better financial aid offer, so I think I'll just be going to Hamilton then.

Hamilton was one of the less selective of the colleges I applied to (that I actually wanted to attend), but this year I'm lucky to have gotten into anywhere! It's absolutely insane how many applicants there were this year. I know a lot of people who aren't even getting into their safetys. I have numbers to illustrate this:

Last year, Princeton accepted 11% of it's applicants, Bowdoin accepted 32%, and Hamilton accepted 39%.
This year, Bowdoin accepted 10%, Hamilton accepted 10.5%, and if Princeton experienced a similar drop, then it accepted -14%.
My guidance counselor says many colleges' SAT middle ranges have jumped 100 points.

Insane!
If these had been the numbers on which I based my application decisions, then I would not have applied to any of the schools I did. I would have considered them all out of my reach. And yet, by some stroke of luck, I got into a couple. How fabulous!

So Hamilton it is.
I'm not euphoric. I don't know why. Though I realize I am incredible lucky to have gotten into a school I liked in such a competitive year, I still think of it as one of my lower rung schools. Oh, but there's so much to like about it. I'm sure that as soon as I get used to the idea, I'll be much happier.

Hope everyone else's admissions go okay.
If they don't, don't take it personally.
This year, there are so many qualified applicants for so few spots, that all a rejection letter means is that you were "miney" instead of "mo".

Pompous and trite, the usual. But long!

Thu, 06 Mar 2003 05:08:16 GMT

I have a theory that humans are like navigators all struggling individually across an endless plain towards the same point of enlightenment. This image can be expanded in many directions; one may dwell on the effect our starting points have on our paths, or the conflict and co-operation possible between navigators, or any other detail. I focus, however, on the instruments we all use in our pilgrimage. What do we choose as our compass? Religion? Science? Financial success? And what of the tools we use in surveying this world? The telescope's compound lens filters our vision two ways; everything we see passes first through the lens shaped by our true self, then through the lens shaped by our experiences. Thus in order to discern any of the truth in the world, we must understand our intrinsic and learned natures in order to perceive reality without their distortion.

With this idea in mind I took to heart the message "Know Thyself". But there was no Oracle of Delphi for me to go to, nor any person on earth who could explain to me my own self. Thus the task was mine alone, and as my form of divination I turned to a method in which my faith was absolute. Through the scientific method my ignorance would be thwarted by the force of slow, meticulous, and utterly invincible logic. Though never written down, my queries usually went something like this:

Question: Why do I remember and relive moments of stupidity so vividly?
Hypotheses:
(1) A clear recollection of mistakes serves the evolutionary advantage of preventing the repetition of potentially fatal errors.
(2) My ego is reliant on my perception of myself as intelligent and thus moments of stupidity are particularly damaging.
(3) Having been mocked ceaselessly as a child for occasional slips, embarrassing moments recall years of derision.
(4) I regard as stupidity as a sin and have not forgiven myself for transgressing.

In reality I came up with many more hypotheses (surprisingly, the creative step of the scientific method is the easiest; the potential amount of hypotheses is usually infinite, if you allow the absurd) and thus was feeling quite pleased with myself until I realized that I had no way of conducting any formal experiments. Science requires a controlled environment, and my mind and the world provided no possibility of one. I was crippled, stripped of the ability to achieve objective truth, my powers reduced to pure reasoning without factual evidence. Thus the only experimentation I could do was of the following sort:

Elimination of Hypotheses by Logic:
(1) There is probably a grain of truth in this, but it is insufficient as I most often repeat the experiences I most regret.
(2) This sounds plausible, but I would need to observe other possible connections between ego and intelligence in order to verify it.
(3) This one seems awfully psychoanalytical, but I can devise no way of disproving it.
(4)This is the most far-fetched, but may be supported by the fact that I often blurt out "I'm sorry" when remembering an instance of idiocy. This support is hardly proof, however; I have also been heard to blurt out "Beenies!".

Pretty pitiful, eh? I didn't even completely disprove a single hypothesis. The only way to achieve any sort of result was to invent lists of hypothesis for hundreds of self-analytical questions and assume that the most commonly occurring ones were true on some level. My pure logic had become a matter of probability. The only conclusion I could draw was that I had failed.

Yet, I persisted. After analyzing many aspects of myself I did find some hypotheses that cropped up quite often. I am in the process of verifying my hypotheses (2) as at least a definite part of the problem. A sea of theoretical data is yielding some success. But most things could go several ways, and there is a price to pay for using the roundabout method. Firstly, nothing can ever be certain, and secondly, everything must always be scrutinized. But worst of all, the more I learn the more I learn there is I don't know.

It's come to the point where I just want someone to tell me who I am, to reveal the subtle patterns that I am staring at to closely to see. I feel like an agnostic, who, feeling that his life was empty, began to search in vain for empirical evidence of God, and, finding the task impossible, prayed for the first time to ask for some inspiration that would show him his words did indeed pass through the ceiling. But such entreaties may never be answered. There is no way to circumvent the labor to find our own answers. Perhaps the answers are in the labor itself, in how we conduct the search. I really don't know. I don't really know anything, not about myself, or god, or humanity, or even my own immediate family members. I don't know how I ever will, the way things are going; I think I'll never have a real truth, just thousands and thousands of hypotheses. But I guess that's how it has to be. The distortion can never be subtracted. The lens that affects our view of the world also affects our view of the lens itself. Thus we are trapped forever in uncertainty, never able to see things for what they are.

But that's just a theory.

No apologies about my infrequent posts, I'll get straight to the point.

Thu, 13 Feb 2003 01:47:17 GMT

Mr. Tomanelli told the best story today:

One day, he says, when he taught in an elementary school, a new girl came into his class, ten years old and very quiet. She never said a word without being called upon, and when asked to answer a question, she would respond succinctly and then promptly return to her attentive but tacit state. Several weeks passed without anything eventful happening, until one day, Mr. Tomanelli brought up the topic of Titan.
Titan, he said, was a desolate place, large as the Earth, yes, but not so welcoming. Titan was an oversized rock flung too far from the sun, exiled to an orbit around the beautiful but cold Saturn. No life could exist there, except perhaps microbial life, and if any surfaced it would faced a life of hardship and suffering. An inhabitable and undesirable place, Titan was.
Suddenly, without following the convention of raising one's hand, the silent little girl sitting near the back challenged his assertion with surprising articulation.

"You speak of things which you know nothing of," she said. "A planet's worth lies not in its distance from a sun; the joy of the universe does not emanate from a single point. Do not presume to judge those things beyond the realm of your vision. Distant Titan, which you, ignorant, would cast aside, is the fairest jewel of the galaxy."

Dumfounded, Mr. Tomanelli did not reply.
The next day, she was absent
And the next.
And the next.
Mr. Tomanelli eventually inquired as to what had happened to the extraordinary girl. He was told her family had moved. They moved around a lot apparently.
So he never heard about her again.

I don't much believe Mr. Tomanelli any more.
But I still thought that was a great story.

Tue, 14 Jan 2003 04:04:38 GMT

College applications are really really tedious.

But I was so hyper today I didn't care.

Yay!

Mon, 13 Jan 2003 07:09:44 GMT

I hate economics.
And I smell like fish.
But my essay is done.

The Phillips Curve

In 1955, Alban W. Phillips proposed a curve that has become one of the most famous of economics. Based on observations of unemployment and wages in the United Kingdom from 1861 to 1957, Phillips deduced that wages are inversely proportional to unemployment, a concept that is represented by a vertical line with negative slope where the x-axis represents unemployment, and the y-axis is inflation. This concept, called the "Phillips Curve", is intuitively true; as unemployment decreases, labor is in higher demand, and so employers raise their wages to attract workers. Likewise, if wages are lowered, workers will buy fewer goods, businesses will not make enough money to employ so many workers and thus unemployment increases
Phillips also showed how other forces could alter the curve. For instance, when the economy was expanding, employers were more willing to spend money, and would react faster to unemployment. Conversely, if the economy were contracting, they would be reluctant to raise wages, and any change would be slower and less pronounced. Thus, volatile business cycles pull the center of the curve closer to the origin, transforming the vertical line into a literal curve.
Though Phillips was not the first to envision this relationship, it was his article that shook the economic world. Keynesians had been searching frantically for an explanation for declining wages, and the Phillips curve seemed like just the thing to fill this hole in their theory. Wages were lowered when unemployment rose. They also took his study one level further and showed that when wages rise, workers have more disposable income, which allows manufacturers to raise their prices, causing an increase in inflation. It now showed that one could not lower inflation without raising unemployment and vice versa. This trade-off made perfect sense to economist as it followed the "no free lunch" philosophy; the benefit of low unemployment did not come without a price. Thus the Phillips curve was embraced; soon it was the measure of all developed economies. Economists saw it as the final achievement of their field. Their knowledge was so complete, they assumed, that they predicted recessions were a thing of the past. With their models, one would only need to maintain the economy; nothing remained unpredictable. When the 50s ended and the 60s began, their confidence was validated. Unemployment fell while inflation took off, the inverse relationship worked as expected, and the Phillips curve became gospel.
In the wake of the rebellious 1960s, however, a couple of heretics emerged. Edmund Phelps and Milton Friedman published articles in 1967 and 1968, respectively, arguing that there was no stable trade-off between unemployment and inflation in the long term. Economists scoffed at such allegations; the Phillips curve was above reproach. Yet, to appease the two upstarts, the statisticians plugged in the data of the 1970s unemployment and inflation rates. They were appalled by the results. In that decade, the two factors were nearly equally high; in 1975 they were only a percent apart! The defiant inflation was dubbed "stagflation", and economists struggled to explain it without wrecking the model that was the foundation for so much policy. Unfortunately, the explanation put forth by Phelps and Friedman showed the Phillips curve to be essentially flawed.
The Phillips curve is based on money wages, that is, the amount of money that is allotted for salary. However, Phelps and Friedman focused on real wages, which are based on the purchasing power of a salary with inflation taken into account. They argued that after a time of adjustment, employers would establish real wages that allowed the supply of labor to equal the demand, and the level of unemployment would reach its "natural rate". But what if the government attempts to lower unemployment below its natural rate by raising inflation? By adding more money into the economy, the government gives consumers a higher demand for goods. Businesses can raise their prices accordingly, and enjoy higher profits, which allow them to higher more workers and pay their workers more. Up to this point, the Phillips curve works, but an unexpected side affect occurs.
Without government intervention, workers expect their real wage to at least remain constant, and thus demand that their money wage increase at the same rate as inflation. However, due to the encouraged inflation, their money wages have been raised more than they expected. This does reduce unemployment, but only until the workers realize that, due to the raised prices of the things they buy, the purchasing power of their wages has decreased. They then demand an even higher increase in their money wages so that their real wages can reach their former level. Employers comply, and now that the illusion of higher wages is gone, unemployment returns to its natural rate. However, the workers now have a new expectation as to the rate at which inflation increases. Having experienced such a dramatic surge, they will expect inflation to rise more swiftly than before, and will demand that their money wages increase in the same manner. Their salaries are raised at a higher rate than earlier, and to make up the difference, employers must raise their prices, causing inflation again, leading the workers to demand yet another raise, and so the vicious cycle continues. Thus in trying to substitute inflation for unemployment, the government has not influenced unemployment at all, but has set prices rising at an astounding rate.
Friedman's and Phelps's analysis provides a distinction between the "short-run" and "long-run" Phillips curves. So long as inflation remains fairly constant, as it did in the sixties, inflation is indeed inversely related to unemployment. However, when the average rate of inflation changes, unemployment returns after a period of adjustment to the natural rate. This long-run relation could be graphed as a vertical line. If the rate of inflation were held constant, the economy would tend to converge toward this line. Government-induced inflation cannot move it to the left, that is, lower unemployment, except for brief, transitional periods. These long-run and short-run relations can be combined in a single "expectations-augmented" Phillips curve. The more quickly worker expectations of price inflation adapt to changes in the actual rate of inflation, the more quickly unemployment will return to the natural rate, and the less successful the government will be in reducing unemployment.
Only the most stubborn advocates of the Phillips curve did not accept this analysis, and today nearly all economists now agree that there is some rate of unemployment that, if maintained, would be compatible with a constant rate of inflation. Theories of the natural rate of unemployment represent a rejection of much of the Keynesian message and a return to a faith that prices eventually adjust fully to all disturbances in markets. Many, however, prefer to call this the "nonaccelerating inflation rate of unemployment" (NAIRU), because unlike the term "natural rate," it does not suggest an unchanging unemployment rate to which the economy inevitably returns, which policy cannot alter, and which is somehow socially optimal.
I accept this interpretation of the Phillips curve. The government cannot rely on the inverse relationship of unemployment and inflation in its policies, as it must take the workforce's perception of inflation into account. However, I also harbor reservations about basing decisions on the updated, vertical Phillips curve and the NAIRU concept, as they yield results only after the economy has adjusted, and that may take time. Thus, even though I believe it to be accurate, the "expectations-augmented" Phillips curve should be used only when the government is willing to wait for improvement. If it is used wisely, the evolved Phillips curve is an excellent tool, and should still be hailed as a great achievement in economics.

Sun, 12 Jan 2003 06:03:18 GMT

Oh god, I don't want to write about this.
But I'm masochistic.
::sigh::

Today was the Brooklyn Wassail. A real wassail. Perfect.
But I didn't go. I stayed home to do 1000 college essays.
I stayed home while my whole family went out.
All day.
No one to distract me from work.
But I went online.
And read comics.
And played games.
And made Ramen noodles.
And then worked a little little bit on essays.

I did two.
They are crappy.

Now it is late.
This is the only time I have for sleep.
And I am writing this.

I can't believe this is who I am. I have lost all concept of the value of time. I just waste it waste it waste it and then when there is nothing left I accept it as though it was not something I could have prevented.

Why the heck does everyone think I'm so smart?

If any college accepts me it reflects poorly on them

Thu, 09 Jan 2003 02:58:21 GMT

This is so awesome - its a site that searches for your name on Google and puts up the results in these short little phrases. So this is all what people are saying about me (or other Alisons) on their websites. I didn't make any of these up, I swear, although I have reorganized them. Try it out yourself at www.googlism.com

alison is the subject of this fine retrospective

alison is a scary individual
alison is a mystic in the great tradition of sufism
alison is discovered by the paparazzi
alison is examining everything
alison is allergic to chocolate and ate her last mars bar in 1980
alison is first lady of the sky
alison is tipped
alison is evicted
alison is described as young and wild
alison is living proof that you can't judge a book by its cover
alison is seriously pissed off and needs cheering up
alison is up for it
alison is given a pipe bowl which once belonged to the micmac indians
alison is surely one now
alison is a wicked character

alison is not suiting up
alison is clearing out her closet
alison is now wearing a golden satin dress with sequin adornments along the collar
alison is seen wearing those horrible white "keds" with her blue jeans

alison is using state funds
alison is currently lobbying for a new system by which staff would be able to choose a certain number of books for each decade that they had been alive

alison is under the stress of applying for her major
alison is originally a graduate of biological sciences
alison is the latest addition to the school of nursing and midwifery
alison is likely to be a neuroscience concentrator at brown
alison is a fine art degree graduate from manchester metropolitan university in england
alison is currently responsible for the following lecture schedules
alison is having trouble fitting in at college
alison is originally from willoughby ohio and a graduate of eastern michigan university

alison is always very busy
alison is responsible for a myriad of duties
alison is 100% committed to insuring that her services meet your needs
alison is also a brilliant composer and a vibrant and innovative performer
alison is an international artist who performs in cathedrals and churches worldwide
alison is recording a new album and touring with her band
alison is one of very few specialist classical mandolin players
alison is one of the greatest voices in bluegrass
alison is in demand as a jazz vocalist
alison is noted for both architecture and interior
alison is a recognised authority on environmental communications
alison is a published author and professional astrologer with around twenty years of experience in astrology
alison is a senior principal research scientist
alison is a partner in an airline freight business
alison is featured in the November issue of seventeen magazine
alison is now the lead singer of rock band

alison is observed by lord richland
alison is my girlfriend
alison is the model going to bermuda with jack

alison is in a bad mood
alison is devastated
alison is the second smallest one in the litter
alison is either infuriated by her or nice about her

alison is great
alison is an extremely gifted and committed individual
alison is cool; she waits for us
alison is a great book to read if you're 10
alison is wonderfully supportive and immensely instructive
alison is tall and slim
alison is thrilled with the beauty and diversity of the minnesota?s landscape
alison is able to take a highly technical topic and present it understandably
alison is constantly seeking her inner wisdom and compelling all whom she touches to do the same
alison is known for her strong work ethic
alison is available to offer advice on her areas of expertise when requested
alison is fresh
alison is a woman with many talents
alison is enthusiastic
alison is a natural choice for this honor
alison is passionate about teaching people to live more fulfilled
alison is literally one of utah's finest treasures
alison is the bomb

alison is quite happy with the comparison

Tue, 07 Jan 2003 17:51:33 GMT

Apparently I have become renowned for my ghettoness.
There are sarcastic people in this school.

Anyway, school is horribible.
I have so much homework that I didn't know about.
Gar.
And my Middlebury application is late.
And I fell asleep in Religion class and missed a debate about Iraq.
Boo.

I just want to go home
and sleep
and be very happy.

On a bright note, I finished my Middlebury and Colby essays.
And Elizabeth wrote me the most charming personal recommendation.
So life goes on.

Wed, 01 Jan 2003 19:21:57 GMT

Ah, good old sleep.
Actually, what pulled me out of the rut was reason.
Nothing really went wrong with Swarthmore, all I needed to do for Bates was send a letter telling them to disregard my accidentally sent supplement, and the Bowdoin supplement I'll just have to send by regular mail. It may be late, but at least the Common App went through...

Anyway, I reassured myself by concocting a plan of action and executing it.
Ha ha, Execute, that was a pokemon...
See? A better mood indeed.

I'm still not a fan of New Year's Eve though.
There are no traditions, no celebration other than getting drunk and watching the ball fall. In Hawaii they have a wonderful ceremony, with traditional foods and things. But I wouldn't move to Hawaii just for that.

My brother goes back to school tommorow and I don't! Ha! How much fun it is to gloat!

Anyway, how was everyone's Christmas?
Mine was blah. I never really got into the spirit, and I didn't really get much of what I wanted.
I did get a sewing machine though. I've been thinking for a while how cool it would be to make my own clothing. For so long I've dismissed anything to do with clothing as superficial to the point of being immoral, but if I made my own it would be a creative expression that's visible to anyone you see. I've un-demonized an interest in attire. So long as you're not just wearing what everyone else is. That's still evil. Unless it's what you naturally like. Which I doubt.

Anyway, now that my college application frenzy is past I can enjoy what's left of my vacation. I think I'll squander it on Tropico. Viva La Presidente!

Wed, 01 Jan 2003 05:30:30 GMT

And thus as the new year was born, a journal rose from the ashes.

I am back, with all the whining and self deprecation you were doing so well without.
And it just so happens I have a fresh load of crap to unload.
A new year, a new number to memorize, but nothing new in my life.
Blah.

I have a bunch of New Year's Resolutions. I wonder if I'll keep any of them.
#1: Hate myself less (blew it already)
#2: Don't Procrastinate (fat chance)
#3: Start writing on livejournal again (score!)
#4: Spend at least two hours per week on some art project
#5: Stop cursing (I've started to pick up the habit)
And there are others. But I can't remember. And I couldn't keep them anyway.

Geez, I'm starting the year on a pessimistic note.
Well, New Year's Eve is typically bad for me. It's my Friday the thirteenth.
The first thing I did in 2000 was vomit.
This year I wrecked my college applications, and what I did succeed at, the computer wrecked.
It feels hopeless. Why would a college let me in if I'm too much of a moron to get the application in correctly?

This isn't making me feel better.
I'll go to bed.
When I'm asleep I don't know how much of a screw up I am.

Fri, 13 Dec 2002 14:38:23 GMT

I thought I was going to let this journal die, but I just thought I might mention that tonight is the opening night for the Christmas Revels, so wish me luck.

I'm not being self serving at all...

Thu, 05 Dec 2002 18:24:49 GMT

In case you didn't know...

IT IS SNOWING!!!

Why am I inside?
Goodbye.

Mon, 02 Dec 2002 04:46:49 GMT

No, I'm not dead, just no longer committed to posting without quality.
Anyway, here is my common application essay, due to be sent to seven colleges.
I've been working on it for nearly two weeks and I'm still not satisfied.
I can't get it down to 500 words.
Anyway, I am satisfied with it enough to release it to the public.
PLEASE comment. Tell me how much it sucks, and why. I need to know.

Boredom is a form of blindness. The world is fraught with such a surplus of awesome beauty and delightful weirdness that I am at a loss to explain how any being with the capability to see can also be capable of sitting still. All creations, whether mundane or divine, are a source of intense interest if looked at through the correct lens. To achieve such enhanced sight is my mission; I search for the aesthetic value of a purely functional toothbrush, and attempt to appreciate fully the graceful and efficient movement of a millipede before I squash it. My vision is imperfect, and sometimes I succumb to ennui, but the rewards of my efforts overcompensate for any failures a thousand times over. From my perspective, the patter of raindrops is a symphony freed from metrical bonds, the gravel imbedded in the sidewalk provides an inexhaustible game of connect-the-dots, and a tree provides not only shade to the scorched, but seats to the weary, fractals to the mathematician, and art to the masses. When the turbulent winds of fall usher the underdressed inside, I see through my window a vacant paradise, and am drawn by the wind out into the feverish pirouettes of leaves, and lured into bliss by transcendent spinning.

This penchant for revelry of mine often leads people to believe that my interest in the sciences is only passing. My giddy nature conflicts with the standard caricature of the stone-faced and objective machine scientists are so often believed to be. Unfortunately, stereotypes are often based in truth, but in this case, I must imagine that examples of such are rare. Science, in contrast to popular belief, is not some terrible force which mutates awe into boring rationality, but the ultimate tool for achieving the perspective from which no boredom is possible. Its very foundation is curiosity, a driving, searching force to which all practical benefits are a mere by-product, and the most obvious antithesis to boredom I can imagine. When used properly, the knowledge that comes from scientific inquiry does not destroy wonder, it nurtures it, deepens it; our eyes are opened to the beauty behind the surface, and the grain of elegance revealed enhances all other sights with its aura. Science uncovers such symmetries as to make my heart leap, and connects the humble to the heavens; how wondrous the stars at night seem when one is blessed with the knowledge that the ingredients which combined to form our very selves were the gift of those celestial furnaces!

The crusade against boredom cannot be won without weapons. Thus, through texts and teachers, television specials and news magazines, I must supplement my own observations of the world with a thousand curious facts and figures. No hope could I have for my future, no growth could I foresee, but for my conviction that the slow but steady force of education is gradually shaping that lens through which I view the world. No further gains are necessary for motivation, for only by this lifelong labor does the mind come to know what splendor ignorance conceals; by this process alone does the soul learn to see.

Welp, that's all I've got to say for now.
Now it's your turn.

I sing of tests and of the girl; who, driven by boredom...

Sun, 03 Nov 2002 03:51:43 GMT

At first light having waked,
grumpy and apprehensive on account of the tests,
which,
though unprepared and plentiful in fear I was commanded to take,
the trek to the test center as well as the writing SAT II,
with it's fearsome essay twenty minutes and length,
and that of the literature,
though the outcome of these,
on account of a lack of predictability,
I will not venture to guess,
by me dutifully were completed,
and afterwards,
briefly having rested,
and of snacks,
mostly candy from Halloween's remaining bounty,
partaken,
in the apartment between the streets of fifth and sixth,
having walked there,
the young girl by silly word problems,
concerning goldfish,
algebra I explained,
and,
having money earned and in pocket placed,
for home bound,
but at Barnes and Nobles stopping,
for the purpose of more from Baudolino,
written by Umberto Eco,
reading,
and for a greater reason,
though,
while this is how a great amount of time was spent,
in practicality The Aeneid,
by Virgil,
that great poet who in Latin very slowly wrote,
needed to purchase,
by the order by Mrs. Perone long ago given,
which though less enjoyable I found,
my reading of it the amusing result had of this serpentine and illiterate,
by standards of English,
sentence causing me to write.

That which this morning would have caused me to cry has become a source of laughter.
How happy a shift in perception can be!
At least to those who delight in the illogic of Latin.

Mon, 28 Oct 2002 21:35:28 GMT

Life is boring and I am busy.
No posting allowed.

Thu, 17 Oct 2002 19:36:01 GMT

Kill me. Kill me now. That way I won't have to live with the knowledge that I just wasted an hour and a half in which I was supposed to be doing my economics report - which was due last week!

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!
Kill me!
Quick!

Thu, 17 Oct 2002 10:14:31 GMT

I feel guilty - I haven't posted for so long and when I do it's just to put up another essay.
Sorry.
I'll post for real soon.

This is an economics essay due last week.
It's still not even half done.
But at least I've been working!
As always - don't read.
This isn't for you, it's for me.

The economy today is still struggling. The shock of a recession after such exponential growth is still raw in our minds. Although descriptions of our current conditions are mollified with the somewhat euphemistic label of "recovery", people are not calm; there is a deficit, a gaping hole in the budget and the fact that we are far above it's nadir provides little comfort, for such comforts only reveal that we have all the further to fall. Looking upwards to our former seat of smug security, we ask how it came to pass that the surplus and fantastic growth of yesterday seemingly evaporated from our hands, and whether we will find something to pull ourselves up out of the pit, or will we need a hand. The first question, though quite open to debate, may be answered somewhat conclusively, but foresight, as always, is far more obscure than hindsight, and so to the second question we must be satisfied with speculation.

When Bush assumed office, there was much to-do over his appropriately conservative (but still moderate enough so as not to cause riots) plan to reduce taxes. Democrats jeered, Republicans clamored for more of the same, and when the mail came in from the IRS, we all bonded together in sudden silence to bask in our wonderful little three hundred dollar checks. This plan alone was certainly not enough to cause complete economic turmoil, but as other events came to pass, it became one factor in a sea of contributors, to small to take the blame alone and yet, trapped by the confusion of the situation, held equally responsible with the rest. Another ingredient to this unfortunate brew was the increase in defense spending. This factor has been demonized of late by mob-like groups of wannabe-hippies, all eager for a chance to cast a stone at the military-industrial complex, but surely most can see that were the rocks being hurled at them, the criminalized beast would quickly become the savior. Nevertheless, it is these elements, which, when combined in a newly fearful environment, one way or another set the ball rolling down this now familiar spiral. Unemployment grew, incomes dropped, and the stock market bubble, which had been around so long we thought it was made of granite, suddenly popped.

This might be easier to deal with if we thought things were going to get back to normal soon. Unfortunately, economic forecasts are not so favorable. The worst is said to be over, for that we can be glad, but normal is still too much to hope for. The causes that brought us here did not simply deposit us on the slope and vanish; they linger, haunting our economy and will not leave until dealt with head on. This is easy to do for military spending; without security a nation cannot exist. A sense of safety, even if only illusory, is fundamental to our basic functioning, which certainly does not exclude the economy. For there to be consumer confidence, there must first be confidence in the fact that the country will not be falling apart tomorrow. However, though it may be necessary, the expense of keeping the country safe is far from negligible. Therefore criticism that extending our military spending to offensive action against Iraq would be quite damaging to us bears listening to. Obviously, monetary concerns should not be the only factor in determining the course of action to take in war, but this much may be said: war with Iraq would not be good for the economy. Unlike World War II, to which we give credit for stimulating the extremely depressed economy of the thirties back to health, this war would mostly just add to our deficit. While it is true that a few industries would get a boost, this beneficial effect would not be widespread. However, the spending would be. As a result, funding would be lost from many areas, and all manner of government-run organizations would suffer, especially social security, a cost which increases just as our ability to pay it goes down. I do not say whether this is justified or not; perhaps this is the simply the price we must pay for our security. But I do say that it is enough of a price to give us pause.

If war is not the solution to stimulating our economy, then what is? Though war would stimulate very specific industries, the government can stimulate a wide range through spending. Although this would also increase our deficit, it would get money back into the economy, and into the hands of the people, so that they may all begin to generate more money again and work their way completely out of the recession - or so the theory goes. Again, what worked in World War II (or at least was tried) does not necessarily carry over to our current situation. Despite common opinion (and common sense it seems) the real disposable income for consumers is up! People are making less money, but of their diminished salaries a greater percentage is available for spending. This means that the government does not need to bail out the people. By lowering taxes, it already has. The suffering party is the government itself.

It seems that our despair over a lost surplus is not wholly warranted. The government ran a deficit for years without so much hubbub. Perhaps it is only a matter of perspective. Personally, we are not doing all that horribly, but we carry over the perceived and predicted slump in the government to ourselves. Certainly, a deficit would influence the whole country, but not to the devastating effect it is made out to be. I myself see that the ideal position for the government's funds is right at the zero line. Why should the government have money it is not spending? That is your money which would be sitting idly, and I don't know what you would like, but if no other purpose claims it, I would want to spend or save it myself. If you fear that the allocation of money the government is in charge of would suffer, simply take charge yourself and make a donation. Or, spend the money and help the other group that needs it: businesses. They are the real center of the recession and deserve much more concern than the government. Actually, for a conservative, the coming deficit may be viewed as positive. It would mean that the people are in control of more of the money. Now all we can do is hope they use it in a way that helps the economy.

Sun, 13 Oct 2002 11:40:56 GMT

Happy Sunday, everyone - Did the SAT go well for all those who took it?
I was so surprised by my score last time that this time I'm trying not to make any predictions.

Anyhoo, this weekend I'm going away to visit colleges - in MAINE!
I'm seeing Middlebury, Colby, and Bates.
Should be beautiful in the fall...
Anyway, I'm not getting home until midnight on Tuesday.
(And I still haven't done my economics essay!)

Well, see you on Wednesday!

Fri, 11 Oct 2002 18:37:54 GMT

Sick again today.
This is a message for Tracy (or anyone at DA who happens to read it, I guess).

Tracy!
Sorry for stranding you in regards to our Hamlet scene. My stomach virus came back with avengence. Anyway, if I might further disadvantage you... could you get my Latin essay to Ms. Perrone?
I sent it to your school e-mail, but if that doesn't work, it's here too, although you'll have to format it a bit I imagine. I'm really sorry to impose this on you, but she said no more late essays! Thanks a ton!

Alison Blank 10-11-02
Latin IV Essay

The first words we hear Aeneas speak are ones of lament. Faced with seemingly certain death at sea, he cries: “Mene Illiacis occumbere campis non potuisse” (Why could I not meet death on the Trojan battlefield, line 6). Note that he is not upset so much by the prospect of dying, but rather by the fact that his death will be relatively anonymous, and his successful escape from Troy will be rendered worthless. To Aeneas, death in battle is more honorable than any other end. This reflects a common belief of the time, that heroes did not fear death so much as they feared ignominy. However, if we interpret this selection without fear, there is still the definite presence of self-pity and despair.
In Aeneas’ rallying speech to his followers, a very different tone is used. Aeneas “premit altum corde dolorem” (hides his deep sadness in his heart, line 12) and puts on an optimistic air for their benefit. The hope that was previously absent is now striking, if not genuine. By creating this discrepancy, Virgil reveals an important aspect of a Aeneas’ life: his personal identity must always be sacrificed for his role as a leader of the Trojans; he can never reveal his own doubts and troubles for risk of damaging the spirits of those who depend on him. By showing the difficulty of being a leader, and the concealed sadness of Aeneas, Virgil makes his main character seem both human and admirable.

Thu, 10 Oct 2002 19:45:41 GMT

So much work and so little motivation.

I still haven't done anything and I'm not starting.

It never changes.

Thu, 10 Oct 2002 19:04:36 GMT

Oh geesh... I'm tired.
I don't want to work at ALL now.
But a Latin essay, a two page (single spaced!) economics report, an the recently ubiquitous SAT prep all hang over my head like an anvil on a thread.
What I really want to do is nap, but I can never manage it in school (unless I'm in a class!).

Well... at least it's Fall.

I love Fall.
Sure everyone likes the bold fireworks of leaves that come out, but with me -
when I step out the door I step into heaven.
That air! A chilly and invigorating drug. I wish I could draw the whole atmosphere into my lungs. Breathing becomes bliss. Even the smell intoxicates. I take it in... and I can't help but to frolic. And what joy - the air plays along! Rushing through the trees and making my hair fly - it even takes those delightfully crispy fallen leaves in little pirrouettes around my feet. Mmmm....

Oh but I'm inside now.
So to work.

Today's Lesson:

Tue, 08 Oct 2002 22:36:23 GMT

Surprise stomach viruses are not fun.

Tue, 08 Oct 2002 16:02:29 GMT

The symptoms of my cold are all but gone, but I still have that moth-ball-brain thing.
So tired.........
Gah.

I should be doing some SAT prep now.
But it's not gonna happen.

::becomes unconscious::
::falls to desk::

KONK!

Sun, 06 Oct 2002 01:43:15 GMT

Hey! Betcha can't guess where I am!
I am in a college dorm at Oneanta! With Mary and Aileen who are now college freshmen (odd as it seems).
No, I have not jumped forward in time, just northward in location and only for the weekend.
It is a pleasure trip - not buisness. I am getting no tour except one of Aileen and Mary's favorite places. But still, it is nice to see what a dorm is like. Theirs is quite large, I think, but it is hard to say in the same room all the time.
Anyway, I'll be home on Sunday night.
I think I'll stay home Monday and miss the DA Walkathon because I have a stuffy nose and want to be better in time for the SAT next weekend.
Oh - it's fun here!
I can't wait to stay up all night playing Exquisite Corpse and Pool.