An Introduction to Western Civilization: Ancient Philosophy and Literature

My Western Civ class (see long complicated title above) has nine people in it: eight students and the professor, a Mr. Ben Lorch previously of Boston who stated that he was "more comfortable speaking ancient Greek than using computers," which is literally one of the most endearing statements I have ever heard in my life. This is the college class that I have always wanted to take. Obscure classical learning, very few classmates who are so far very intelligent, and a teacher that loves what he teaches. Yesssssssss.

We are reading four books: Xenophon's Education of Cyrus and Anabasis of Cyrus, and two compilations on Socrates, Socrates and Alcibiades: Four Texts and Four Texts on Socrates. Socrates is evidently frequently connected with the number four. Fascinating.

We started reading the first Xenophon book today. We read a sentence, analyze it, read another sentence, analyze it, etc. So far we're on the third paragraph. (One sentence generally equals one paragraph.) The course is entirely about the philosophy of governing and leading. And it's just so interesting. Xenophon points out, for instance, that humans are nearly impossible to rule, while animals are quite easy to rule. The logic follows that humans need something better than them to rule them; something that knows them inside and out and is able and willing to give them what they want. He concludes that Cyrus, who was evidently the only perfect ruler the world has thus far seen, had knowledge. And leaves it there. What knowledge did Cyrus have that made him so perfect? Or is Xenophon simply saying that we, as those who are ruled, cannot have that knowledge, because then we would ourselves want to rule? But then, the knowledge must be perfect, so anyone given that knowledge will be a perfect ruler, but what happens if everyone gets that knowledge? We all know everything, so what else can we know? I think the ruler bit is what tends to get to people. Animals do not like being ruled, being told exactly what to do. They simply like being led to the things they want, which is what shepherds and keepers do. They take the animals to and from water and shelter and food. Humans are rarely led to the things we want because, as one of my classmates pointed out, "Half of us want entirely different things and the other half doesn't even know what they want." So is the key, then, to know people? To simply be a sociologist or psychologist? Then, you could hire an economic genius or a military general and, using your knowledge of people, get them to provide the country with what they need? Then again, what if the economist and the general know that you're ignorant of their subject matter and decide to wrest control from you? Do you also need to be an economist and a general? Do you need to hold all the power, or is it plausible to delegate? If you hold all the power, will you be smart enough and able enough to control what you have to control? And if you delegate, how can you possibly guarantee the loyalty of your advisors? Is knowledge all you need, or do you also need resources? The smartest human the world has seen can be born, live, and die in the Gobi Desert without any opportunities to prove his greatness.

And that's my Western Civ class. Or at least the first three paragraphs of the first book of it. My mind is going to explode by the end of the year.

Home, Interrupted

There was a TICK on my ARM. A TICK. On my ARM. MY. ARM. At home! At my Fortress of Ticklessness! (That looks like I'm saying tickleness. Ticklessness. Huge difference.)

I have only ever had a tick on me once before and it was in Colorado. And it was horrible. And this was also horrible. Horrible horrible horrible. But at least this one didn't have its head in yet. It was just sitting there on my arm. I could see its legs. But I still had to get mom to pull it off. Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh

I hate ticks more than scorpions, which is good, because scorpions are more likely to end up in my bed. Not kidding. Overall ratio of scorpion bites in bed to tick attacks in bed: 3:0. Overall ratio of scorpion bites to tick attachments: 4:2. Overall ratio of scorpion encounters v. tick encounters: about even; prolly 100:100. Scorpions lived in my closet for a while, and now they tend to haunt the shower (meaning I have to look down every point eight three seconds, approximately, while I'm shampooing). Also they crawl on the ceiling. And the walls. And the floors. And the drains. And the laundry room. Ticks just live on the dogs. I'm really good at finding them because they freak me out so much that I want to get rid of them. I HATE ticks. Hate hate hate.

Moving on.

I'm back in College Station right now. I did ridiculously well on my bio final (98!), got an A on my last rhetoric paper, and discovered that I have made a 100 on every mythology quiz I've taken this year. I am so full of myself right now, you have no idea. Mythology final still to come. Saturday: shopping. Sunday: back to Austin/study for myth. Monday: final/pack room. Tuesday: move out of Kinsolving 321 by 9 AM, move in to Kinsolving 287 at 4 PM. I really don't mind the seven hours of driving around Austin with my stuff. There are currently boys living in my new room. I know, gross, right? Cooties! And it's a connecting bath, so I hope it gets really thoroughly cleaned.

Here's the place all UT students living on campus should know about: Kerbey Lane. If you don't know what I'm talking about, listen up. This place is the God of Food on the Drag. It's open 24/7, has the best queso in the history of the universe, and also makes fawesome desserts. I've only ever eaten there at 2 AM or later. I generally have scrambled toast and French eggs. Wait. Scrambled eggs and French toast. Ooh, now I want to invent scrambled toast.

Currently Reading:
The Host by Stephenie Meyer

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life..."

Caught up a little on sleep. Did the nap thing. As such, it is nearly midnight and I'm not quite tired yet. Gack. Flaw in plan.

Really the only story right now is that it took me and Michela about half an hour to find the above quote (SS page 235 softcover; not GoF or PoA as I expected). It was Ron, though, so I was right about that.

Currently Reading:
Kingdom of the Golden Dragon, by Isabel Allende

Ahhhh

I am finally satisfied with my rhetoric paper.

Life is good.

EDIT:
I GOT AN A. A 90!!! Yesssss. I'm so not doing revisions.

Ah, midnight, we meet again

Better phrasing: Ah, 2:30 AM, we meet again. Rhetoric is bad for me.

I am once more experiencing sleep madness. Tomorrow, I plan on doing little other than drooling into my pillow. While underneath a blanket. Implying of course that I would be asleep at that juncture. Assuming a single juncture can last an entire day. Without skipping classes, of course.

It's strange: I don't really feel tired. Just slightly crazy. Like I said: sleep madness.

I really hope I get the chance to write a proper blog entry soon. I definitely dislike this end of the semester business, what with its rather threatening stress levels. And sleep madness levels. (I think I stole that phrase from Jeph.)

Pressing Issues:
• Rhetoric essay status (showcasing tomorrow)
• Parking permit transfer (it seems rather unlikely that the parking people will just let me transfer a Trinity pass for a 27th Street pass. However, I must attempt)
• Biology final (dear God)
• A proper meal (haven't had one since possibly Friday)

Ack

Holy crap, I am going to be busy as hell for the next week and a half. I have SO MUCH to do. (That's why I'm writing this blog post, of course; because I don't want to do it.)

Why does the UT system have to be so complicated? I bet if I were going to George Mason it wouldn't be this hard to get parking.

Refraining from cursing/having a nervous breakdown. Okay. I have to go to make a to do list. Now.

Current Biology Problems:
• Cannot for the life of me find date/time/location of final
• Have somehow ended up with 20 points below 100, meaning that I can only miss 30 points on the final and make an A. WHEN did this happen???
• Do not understand carbon/phosphorus/cyanide/whatever cycles
• Grrrrrrrrrrrrr

Well, that fell through

Just finished Deathly Hallows.

Direct quote from Beth: "you are an incurable bibliophile." Yes. Quite.

Essay now.

Briefly

I really shouldn't have started Deathly Hallows, considering the sheer amount of rhetoric essay I have to write. Such is life.

Three things:

1) Ming's, a Chinese place on the Drag across from Whitis, serves the best fried rice in the entire world.

2) Okay, Hedwig? Seriously? That's just sad. I mean really.

3) The level of Ron/Hermione banter in this book is truly excellent. For instance:

"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, well, he went a bit odd toward the end," conceded George.

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party," said Fred. "He used to down an entire bottle of firewhiskey, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his—"

"Yes, he sounds like a real charmer," said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.

"Never married for some reason," said Ron.

"You amaze me," said Hermione.

Brilliant.

Essay Status:
Thesis and topic statements.
Due Date:
11:30 AM tomorrow. Sigh.

Finished with the Phoenix

I'm pretty sure that this memory was from right before Phoenix was released. We were in the car, me and mom and dad, going to eat somewhere, and dad saw that I had Watership Down with me, and so he asked me why I was reading it, and I said something along the lines of, "Well, it's the only book better than Harry Potter." It still is, I think. More about Watership Down later, though. I just finished Order of the Phoenix for probably the hundredth time. That book has a lot of detractors, you know—complaints that Harry is emo, etc. But come on. It's... it's Order of the Phoenix. It's nearly holy. At least to me.

I am fiercely protective of these books. It makes complete sense that they were gigantic hits. They're about as perfect as a series of books can be. They're about everything. Time and age. Friendship. Evil. Grief. Hatred and grudges. Dedication and loyalty. Rights. Prejudice. Love. They are archetypal in this way, all-encompassing, solid and filled with communicable life. I read them and see everything through their pages. They are works of art. Their design is beautiful, intricate, tragic, lifelike. She weaves a tapestry of a world that is our own, but slightly higher, or maybe just a little off to the side. The corruption in the Ministry is brilliant. The prejudice against half-breeds and half-bloods, too. And the pillar of the books, the strongest thread: emotion, or the ability to feel, to breathe with meaning rather than mechanism.

I could speak on the characters for the rest of my life, but as I am quite sleepy, I would like to talk about just one: Dumbledore. He is at first glance the wise old man. To be honest, he is this same archetype (excellent word; one of my favorites) throughout the books. Yet the seventh book, along with the famous revelation made by the author after the release of Deathly Hallows, does quite a lot to undermine this ideal. There is suspicion that she was all too aware of the wise old man she had created and wished to simply circumvent the stereotype. But dimensions are not applied lightly by authors of her quality, and any argument to the contrary is based in ignorance and narrow-minded bias. Dumbledore is a man of profound depth. This is the first time that I have read the series since last summer; that is to say, I have not gone back to them with the events of Deathly Hallows in mind. This part stuck out.

"You do care," said Dumbledore. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

That line actually hurts. We know, now, what Dumbledore has been through, how responsible he feels for everything that he has ever done wrong. He knows exactly how Harry feels about the loss of Sirius. He could tell precisely the feeling, because he still has it, so long after the event.

She can write. I feel as if there is no need for anyone to ever write anything else. There, the series is over, and so is literature. We're done. She's said it all.



I know, I know, I'm obsessing over these books a year after they've finished. They're children's fantasy, and worse, they're a phenomenon. So they must have little merit, right? Everyone agrees that they're decent, but they have a hard time admitting anything more.

I hold that they are a brilliant series, the best ever written. I cannot find the words to say what it means to me, to see them all ranged up there, above my head.

Currently Reading:
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Breaking News

Well not really. I just haven't updated in while, and... now I am! I blame it entirely on Harry Potter (among other things), which seems to have steadily munched on my time until I have none left. Currently midway through Order of the Phoenix.

Current worry: the Olympics. I sort of like the Olympics. But I'm at college and I do not have a TV. What do I do? Do I brave the lounges? Do I look online? I really really really like the opening ceremony, so I'm going to have to find time to watch that at some point.

Random gerund: laureling. It exists! People have been laureled. My name is a lot of other names, too: Glory, Gloria, Daphne, Apollo (mainly through association). I like being something heroic.

Lots to live up to, though.

More later. Must read.