I had the pleasure of stepping outside today, around 9 or so, and not actually being cold.

I know I don't talk about it nearly as much as I do other things, but I do so earnestly love the weather. There's little that can properly describe that scent of actual life in the air, that scent that only a good spring or summer (occassionally fall) day can bring.

Even though I have far too much work to actually do much else other than hw before Spring Break ends, I will most likely be using part of one of my nights to sit outside before going back to college just reveling in the smells of the night and maybe watching the night sky, particularly if anyone was willing to do it with me.

I still am very much considering the justice in providing academic leniencies on account of depression. Like, being given an extra day for this math homework.

I feel like shit.

I wanted to put something many people might not know about me but my mind draws blank.

The easiest way to drive me to cynacism is treating others poorly; it's all I can have faith in these days. That'll have to do.

First day of classes tomorrow (er, later today). Should be fun.

I watched District 9 a couple of days ago. While I had very high expectations for it...I was disappointed. I was actually surprised how much so. I was going to write in detail about it, but I'm tired and have already done so on Facebook. Therefore (while I still do love you all), I'm simply going to quote what I wrote on Facebook:

First, I agree entirely with you, A-----, that the special effects and acting were phenominal. And I loved the documentary style and how they did it, maybe because it was just so different from normal movies.

Second, my complaint actually wasn't that it wasn't happy. I like the depressing, the warped, etc. The aliens got away, anyway - to me, that's a happy ending (at least partially).

R------ - the basic plot of the movie is that a alien mother ship stops over a part of South Africa and is unable to move further on. Eventually, the government drills into the ship to find millions of starving aliens aboard.

The government builds a bunch of low income housing and the place easily turns into a ghetto. Poverty, crime, et cætera. People stereotype the aliens, assume they want to kill humans for the fun of it, ban them from different establishments (there are signs reading Humans Only), et cætera.

The idea is that it's supposed to be an allegory for apartheid South Africa (or, at the very least, racism or marginalized group descrimination).

Here's my complaint. While, yes, it opperates quite well like a regular action flick (actually, too much so; without the advanced concepts, it's strickingly like a formulaic action movie) and has the basic concept of this allegory of suffering and prejudice, let's shed the allegory for a bit and actually look at the aliens as a suspect class and marginalized group.

While some parts are *perfect* (like the woman commenting about how the aliens will take over a buisness and kill everyone while, in the background, an alien is digging through the garbage for food), there's the aspect that nearly ALL the whites in the movie are in position of power, all the blacks (except a select few) are in positions of poverty, gangs, etc.

Well, this is just accuracy of current South Africa (caused by apartheid) - fine. But that means different levels of damage against marginalized groups (the descrimination and isolation of the aliens) and the results of the above on sociol-economic issues for blacks. This isn't addressed. Rather, all humans are treated in a color-blind fashion (despite the obvious racial division throughout the movie) and the aliens are thought of sadly only because of the actions taken against them by the humans. The movie could have probed these different levels and effects of descrimination through these different levels - but it doesn't.

My second complaint was the blatant descrimination toward the alien within the movie itself.

First off, Wikus is pretty much an abhorrent character at the beginning. On top of clearly being xenophobic, he happily massacres tons of babies, and he's a spineless twat.

Of course, that's just the beginning. And I like the concept of giving us a character like that to see his development. I actually really like that concept.

Here's the problem though - he doesn't really adequately change. The worst part is when he decides to steal Christopher's ship and doesn't bother to even flinch when he hears the poor guy being beaten above him as his son looks up, asking "Father?". In fact, as the boy then looks toward Wikus in fear, Wikus just lies to the kid and says it'll be alright. I mean, how do you do that and live with yourself?

And THEN, after crashing the only means that Christopher has to get home, he has the audacity to try to fun away when he's in a full metal body suit and could have easily saved Christopher when he's, once again, getting the living shit beat out of him.

And then there's the fantastic aspect that Wikus continues, way until the end of the movie, to refer to Christopher as a Prawn, a term already clearly defined and well known to be derogitory towards the group. If we are to use the allegory of an apartheid South Africa, the aliens can be thought of as blacks. It's essentially like calling them niggers the whole movie through.

The issue with this slow and rediculous character development for Wikus is...he's the main character and he's gets so much focus it's rediculous. I mean, it's one thing to have the plot like this but then we focused on Christopher. But, no, it's pretty clear our sympathies are meant to go towards Wikus.

Christopher is the one who's been isolated in South Africa, has his people shot with no issue, has them starved and cheated in this ghetto - and we're focusing on Wikus.

I mean, there wasn't even much sympathy given towards Christopher. In the scene that *should* have been really powerful (when he finds the room where they're expirimenting on his people) - the damn camera stays on Wikus most of the time! I mean, is it human-centrism? I don't get it. Regardless, for a movie trying to point out the cruelties of one to another, it's a pretty bad slap to the face to focus on the human so singularly when the cruelties are happen ten-fold to the other species.

Basically, District 9 had amazing potential. They could have really probed the different levels of descrimination in a really creative way, as I mentioned above. Rather, they just ignored it.

Then they could have *at least* given attention to the plight of the aliens. There are racist movies from the 90s with a black and white main characters thatare more sympathetic and better at highlighting the marginalized character as a multi-dimentional character than District 9 was.

Sorry; I was really disappointed.

I think I'm going to do an album review of Darkness On the Edge of Town. Music makes me happy and an album review would require me to submerge myself in the album for a while in order to do a proper review. Plus I actually want to go through old Bruce stuff that I've listened to for ages but never given a critical eye to. It also lets me probe and explore this music I love in more depth.

In other news, I have to write a 10 page paper for my Atheism class by Thurs. While it's a topic I actually will enjoy (arguing that religion is not the cause for evil but often the tool used by others to cause evil)...I don't want to write a 10 page paper (that's longer than anything I had to write for last semester, with my 4 English courses. Then again, had I not been given caps on pages, I could have easily hit 10). Plus it means doing research for it.

Alright, it probably won't be that difficult, but I feel lethargic. Heh, and second semester is coming up. Joys and yays.

Putting together a set up of chairs and stands for a musical group with a sprained wrist: one of the more interesting things I've done in my life.

I guess I should have an actual entry by now? It's been a bit of a while. Then again, my xanga has been more just my thoughts than an actual journal of my days. On the other hand...I haven't really given you guys much of actual entries as of late (either that or I'm just exercising my excellent inability to estimate time). So, for those who actually read this still, if any, what I've been up to as of late:

It's currently Winter Study, which means three weeks of one class chosen before Winter Break. I decided to take Atheism in part out of interest and in part because I thought a decent amount of the Williams Secular Community would sign up as well. Well...not exactly. A Freshman who attended some meetings at the beginning of the year and someone who had been abroad the past semester, so - at first - I thought that I knew no one in the class.

It's interesting. The class is basically entirely discussion based. We do some assigned reading the night before and then discuss the points made in them, which often unravels into many other related topics.

As for class makeup, there's 8 atheists, a Christian who's in Williams Christian Fellowship, and myself (Roman Catholic, born and raised (the raised part is a joke)). Andy is, I think, Evangelical, but he's ever so slightly more liberal in his theology (believes in evolution without discrediting the notion of a relative creation story). It adds an interesting element to the discussions.

I haven't revealed my own religious convictions to the group yet but that's largely because I don't want to commit myself to anything when I'm wrestling and weighing different types of arguments as much as because I like to play with expectations and it's easier to play the Devil's advocate when your identity is ambiguous (and, I suppose, passing has just become second nature to me by now).

However, Andy (the Christian of the group) did happen to catch me outside of class when my crucifix was outside my shirt, so he was happy to find a fellow Christian in the class. In a situation that seemed so ironic it just has to be beautiful, it soon became clear that not all our same tenets aligned as I disagreed with him on what tends to be, regardless of sect, something most Christians believe in - whether belief in God is necessary for entry into Heaven. Neither of us left the conversation persuaded by the other, but I absolutely loved the conversation regardless.

It's an interesting class and I'm really enjoying it, though disliking the 10 page paper due at the end. Plus only 2 weeks left of Winter Study....

As most of my friends know by now, I sprained my wrist playing broomball with the Marching Band. We won the game (quite beautifully with 3 or 2 to 0), though. It seems to be on the mend, which shocks me because it's only been 48 hours and I've been expecting at least a week for recovery. This, of course, doesn't discourage my general motto towards my body that if I let it take care of itself, it'll mend any sort of pain, disease, or cut on its own without any assistance.

Speaking of which, staying over Chelsea's dorm for the night to watch Tinman (sci. fi. version of The Wizard of Oz (she knows me too well...). Apparently the same person's also made a sci. fi. version of Alice In Wonderland) while Chels was sick turned into me catching whatever she had. I woke up this morning with the worst throat ache I've ever had. Taking my temperature confirmed also that I had a slight fever. It being 7:48 in the morning, I didn't want to deal with it and went back to sleep. By 2 today, the throat pain was barely noticeable anymore and (I assume) my temperature has returned to normal.

The less pleasant portion of this story started at lunch (though flared up partially yesterday). I was just sitting there and, well, I just wanted to curl up right there. It's odd to explain. It's like you want to be alone yet hate it, wanting to do something but all that ends up being is just rocking back and forth. It often happens when I just leave the presence of other people. The thing is, you can't really tell when it's gonna come. I'm pretty sure it's a result of depression - I mean, what else am I going to blame random, out-of-the-blue, tormenting, unsettling feelings on? While I can generally expect a downer after having a great time, it also seems to go in cycles. Combined, this can throw off expectation. The other possibility is that I'm just losing control more as time goes on. The depression (as it goes untreated) could be getting worse. I have a distinct feeling I'm going to suffer a panic attack someday soon, which will be a clear sign things have gone very, very differently. Then again, I've been talking about me losing control on things I once had since Sophomore year of high school, so who knows. I have to admit, there'd be a bit of comedy (that I couldn't well enough just ignore) if I avoided suicide those many times just to lose control of myself by wearing out depression.

But now I'm just being a downer. They say that there's two parts to therapy - changing the way you think, see things, et cætera, and the chemicals. Well, I know my shit is chemically based by now. Again, such mood swings that are so disturbingly strong are not normal. It's the changing the way I think part that bothers me. For one, I'm pretty sure my thought process and certain ideas and opinions (in relation to depression) are formed by the mental disorder itself. If I can be happy, the depressing is generally miles from my brain (though that might be a polarized effect - when I'm happy, I'm just happy and I'm over the top with it, a result of the fact that when I'm neutral I'm slightly depressed and "tainted" and then everything else from there is just worse; but I may be generalizing so don't take this as necessarily fact).

However - as I've said many, many times - there's a great beauty to the sad, the depressing. I still stand by my belief that pain makes the most beautiful people. To me, we can be breathtaking in anguish. And we cannot forget the amazing delicacy and beauty in recovery. To be allowed past those walls others construct is humbling when we remember just what it means to be allowed to enter those places of another person.

In many other innumerable ways, I find the depressing to be intensely amazing. Sure, too much of such a thing hurts (I've gone over this perilous system a million times in the past, no need for repetition). So, I'll pass on the therapy. Just give me something to fix this imbalance. I suppose it's void, however, since I'm likely never to seek treatment. Once you get past that hump around Sophomore to Junior year (those with this know what I'm talking about), it's easy to deal with for the most part there on out.

Gah, I'd really like to be in bed now...it's 4:43. So, while I was running to grab food as quick as I could for dinner, I stopped by the grill for pizza (bad choice, but oh well). As I was sitting, eating, this guy (I think) was looking at me. I just remember I made eye contact, it seemed I might know him, so I nodded as acknowledgement just in case. He nodded back and said, "They're not that bad." He was regarding my Black Sabbath t-shirt. "I've been getting into them lately, listening off of YouTube, you know; they're pretty good. I like Paranoid, and Sabbath Bloody Sabbath." Admittedly, it sounded so damn weird the way he said it, like they were a new band or something. But perhaps I'm biased, since I happen to think that Black Sabbath happens to sound downright Godly.

Now, I'm absolutely awkward socially and this is the most apparent in people I don't know extremely well. So, I nod, say that's cool, keep nodding, not sure what else to say. He nods, then kinda turns away and waves his hand in a dismissive fashion while saying, "Yeah." It basically looked like he wasn't sure what to say as well and then decided that that's all he could say and was confirming that this was, indeed, a good moment to just stop talking. Totally fair enough.

Then, for a split second, I think, "Wait, was he trying to hit on me?" Now, such random questions tend to pop into my head regularly, largely because I question everything (regardless if it deserves such skepticism or not) anyway. I generally dismiss such thoughts, as I did. But then I saw the guy talking to another guy I recognized who I know is gay but not really involved in the gay/Trans community on campus and not really with much of a gay identity.

So...maybe I wasn't so off after all. Which then makes his shyness just plain cute (but I'm a romantic, so I find any sort of stuff such as this by anyone as cute). He should've just gone for it; you might get a no, but you never know unless you try (alright, I realize I'm a downright hypocrite for saying this, but I'm trying to do better).

I got up to leave shortly afterwards but then The River by Springsteen came on, and I just froze where I was. I have to wonder if it's just nostalgia that makes me so affected by his songs. I literally just stopped. Then again, I was also still tripping off of these odd depression emotions (and drinking soda, laced with sugar, probably helped nothing). In any case, I ended up staying until the song finished.

Now I sleep!

Yesterday/today have been shockingly amazing.

Unfortunately, someone after a party had written Fag on one of the Freshmen dorms. Well, several school officials have sent out school-wide E-mails admonishing this and talking about how to improve things. One of my teachers made it the focus of discussion for our class. And College Council is holding a meeting specifically in light of this.

A bunch of the Queer students decided that we wanted some changes, and we were going to ask the administration to make them happen. One, a full-time Queer Life Coordinator, which only makes sense (particularly in light of this instance). Also, Queer Studies as a separate study instead of just Women and Gender Studies with classes that happen to touch on concepts of sexuality and that can confer a major. Transforming the house where Queer Student Union meetings take place into a Gender and Sexuality Resource Center, entailing its own library (literary and media) and an archive of the history of anything gender and sexuality related that's happened on campus. Further training for Junior Advisers and Baxter Fellows (read resident adviser, in a sense) on issues of sexuality and gender identity. Finally, gender neutral housing that would allow opposite sex roommates, plus probably greater sensitivity to the needs of Trans students as far as housing goes.

We'll present our wanted-changes at the College Council meeting. If there is no response or appropriate effort from the administration by Sunday, we'll stage a sit-in and make noise until actual change (these same issues have been coming up since 1970; we're tired of waiting) that can help this campus in effective and constant ways is established.

I also happened to see the Lady Gaga video for Bad Romance today, which was surprising more mature and insightful than I ever expected from Lady Gaga (granted, seeing as I've only heard her stuff on a very surface-like level, I am totally up for being proven that my original opinions were wrong and judgemental).

Lastly, I talked to my professor about my paper due, got a topic and paper figured out with her, and had a good discussion about The Great Gatsby. It's amazing what they don't teach you about it in high school. It's far more complex than I ever imagined, and I like it all the more for it. It's jumped significantly higher on my list of favorite books, and I can't wait to write my final paper for the class on it.

I just feel so incredibly stimulated today, it's fantastic. I sat down with one of my readings of theory for class and couldn't wait to dive into it and wrestle with the ideas, instead of being bored with it. It's mindblowing, really; such good days, I really hope for more.

It's late, sugar isn't helping, and I'm slightly depressed. Can I watch The Exorcist right now instead of doing hw?

I lost my ID yesterday. I honestly don't understand how. I used it to swipe into my cousin's dorm, then (before leaving the dorm for the first time) I noticed I didn't have it. So, since it couldn't be anywhere but in the dorm, we look for it throughout everywhere I went in the dorm. Nope. She still hasn't found it today.

It had $8.75 on it and cost 10 dollars to get a new one. As you might imagine, I'm not happy about it.

So, when my mother calls, I tell her I've lost it. While I can do it, I'm not the biggest fan of keeping bad things in and prefer telling people. She, of course, is disappointed, makes a noise similar to, "Oh, honey…" and tells me how I shouldn't've. Do you see an issue yet? I tell her what happened, how I have no clue how I could've lost it.

At the end of this conversation, she tells me my dad wants to talk to me, so I start talking to him. A little ways in, I hear her ranting in the background, loudly, and in a clearly angry fashion (this is a habit of hers when she's mad at someone and is very specific. It's hard to explain, unfortunately, but just keep in mind I'm used to this type of rant. Basically, it includes tearing the person down, pointing out how she thinks they're an idiot and cannot believe that they managed to do something so stupid, and making really ugly faces that are a mixture of anger, mockery, and disdain).

You see, that sad and sympathetic voice that I first heard is the tactic she adopted when she realized I was not going to put up with her bullshit and would simply ignore her or yell back at her if she decided to act pugnaciously. So instead of getting mad, she'd try to nicely push her agenda.

I say agenda because, if I actually did something wrong, I might get angry at the fact that yelling at a person is not the right way to deal with stuff, but I could understand the need for some sort of punishment. If it's really stupid then, yes, a yelling-at is reasonable.

However, taking this instance as an example, I did not reasonably lose my ID. Both I and my cousin remember me swiping us in. Therefore, it had to be somewhere in the dorm. We searched the dorm. It could not be found. Even a day later, it was not found. Further, the reason why I rarely worry when I lose stuff is because I operate almost on a ritual-like level. I keep things in a certain order (phone, ID, and wallet in left pocket and glasses and keys in the right pocket) always. I continually check it throughout the day so that, if one is missing, I right away know and can make sure to find it. If I can't find it, it's likely someplace I was at. I retrace my steps, and I usually find it. 99% of the time, this works. And I do something like it for all my stuff. Now, occasionally I slip up and leave something completely out of the way so that I struggle finding it. And, admittedly (I get irritated at this too), I'm a bit of a forgetful person. Forgetting things is something I sometimes do. This is why I have this system in the first place.

But…I did not leave this someplace I usually don't. In fact, for me to not immediately put the ID back in my pocket is uncharacteristic of me (nor does it make much sense, for anyone to not do that). For me not to set it down in the room if I did not put it in my pocket doesn't make much sense either. And, of course, for it not to be in the only place I was at when I lost it makes little sense either.

I'm very much willing to argue that blame should not be put on me, here. I'm as bitter as anyone for the loss of money here, but I was not irresponsible. Try to give me an argument as to how I was because I don't understand how I could be.

My dad said, when I told him, "And only been 2 months, huh?" Now, he was joking, so I'm not too irritated, but it really was a bad moment to do so. Let's keep in mind that I didn't lose it at all last year. I think I'm allowed at least once? God knows, I make mistakes (shocking, isn't it?).

In other words, it's an agenda (and this is in general so it can apply for cases outside of this instance) because she wants to push her ideas (you shouldn't lose an ID, etc.) instead of understanding I'm not in a position for blame or that her ideas are wrong in whatever specific case. Plus it's kinda insulting that she just wants to rant and it's fine I'm the sacrifice, isn't it?

So, what does my mother choosing to act all nice and then rant insultingly towards me when she's off the phone to the rest of my family mean?

1. A severe lack of respect. Oh, would you look at that, one of the major dislikes (and I'm usually pretty easy going, as most who know would could attest). Surprising? Hah…
2. She's not listening to me. Another major dislike. Because that was always the biggest problem. I am ruled by logic and reason. My mother doesn't know how to understand logic or reason. So any argument as to why I do things or what I think is right is pretty much ignored (it also leads to them totally not knowing me at all, which is further irritating). So, remember how I'm irritated by her Agenda? Well, clearly why I get mad at her ranting is lost on her. All she understands is I don't like it, so she changes the tactic without realizing why I actually dislike what she does.
3. Which brings us here. I can't stand stupidity/an unwillingness to change or learn. That's why I really get pissed at most of what my mother does - because, being stupid, she does stupid things and, since not actually having a reason to back up what she does and simply strongly believing in it, she adamantly does them and blocks out all else. Case in point - the ranting. It's that she explicitly decides not to do what I try to teach her she does by then passionately ranting about me behind my back. I hate stupidity. That's the action that will piss me off more than anything - an action motivated by stupidity and no logical backing.

I hate my parents (as if anyone didn't know by now).

"He definitely was bipolar and had mood swings but then these men were all human beings with problems and flaws."

I happened to notice this statement somewhere on YouTube (surprise, surprise). Would anyone like to explain to me how being bipolar is seemingly a "problem and flaw" that must be justified? Humanity never ceases to amaze me.

I believe another archaic word is in order and long overdue.

Luculent [loo-kyoo-luhnt]
-adjective

1. clear or lucid: a luculent explanation.
2. convincing; cogent.

Origin:
1375-1425

Life can be just entirely acherontic, at times; I'm drawn to think that, usually, it's because it refuses to stay luculent. Sure, I've had the idea gainsaid before, but I think it's a deep-rooted fear we have to oppose the unknown ere we have the chance to know it. Life would surely be more luculent if we didn't ignore the fact it is unclear to begin with. You would think, in the spirit of knowledge, that more would deign the topic; mauger the plain logic I've just laid out, I have yet to find willing participants to help in aiding the end of my agony.

So, for one of my courses, we have to read colonial literature. And, in one of the books we're reading, "maugre" was used, and I didn't have to check the footnote to understand what it means. I flipped a shit, no lie.

I have come to the conclusion that one useless man...is called a disgrace, that two are called a law firm, and that three, or more, become a CONgress! And, by God, I have had this congress!

Benjamin Franklin: Please, Mr. Dickingson, are we to start banging? How is a man to sleep?
*Congress laughs*
John Dickinson: Forgive me, Dr. Franklin, but must you start speaking? How is a man to stay awake?
*more laughter*
Dickinson: We'll promise to be quiet, sir. I'm sure everyone prefers that you remain asleep.
Franklin: If I am to hear myself called an Englishman, sir, I assure you I prefer I remain asleep.
Dickinson: Ohh, now what's so terrible about being called an Englishman? The English don't seem to mind.
Franklin: Nor would I - were I given the full rights of an Englishman! But to call me one without those rights is like calling an ox a bull: he's thankful for the honor, but he'd much rather have restored what's rightfully his.
*Congress uproariously laughs; Franklin smiles pleasantly at Dickingson*
Dickinson: ...When did you first notice they were missing, sir?
*Congress laughs again and slightly jeers; Franklin laughs as well at the good play by Dickingson*
Dickinson: Fortunately, the people of these colonies maintain a higher regard for their mother country.
Franklin: Higher certainly than she feels for them. *gets up and starts walking towards Dickingson* Never was such a valuable possession so stupidly and so recklessly managed than this entire continent by the British crown: our industry discouraged, our resources pillaged - worst of all, our very character stifled.
We've spawned a new race here, Mr. Dickingson - rougher, simpler, more violent, more enterprizing, less refined. We're a new nationality; we require a new nation.