This afternoon, I decided to run a personal social experiment.
My plan was simple: Play Magic: The Gathering in McConn. Magic: The Gathering was a card game created in 1993. It was essentially the game that both Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh stemmed from. MTG shaped a huge part of the male childhood experience. Regardless, it is seen as nerdy. Rightfully so, perhaps.
Zach Arneson and I sat down to play and something interesting happened. People actually noticed. Mostly, their recognition came from snickers. A couple of people were actually audacious enough to confront our nerdiness with disdain. I was surprised when a freshman girl, about five feet tall with a short blond pixie cut approached us and told us that we were some of the most nerdy kids she'd ever seen. I was honestly shocked, and I definitely laughed out loud.
I wonder what gives someone the nerve to approach strangers just to say something so brash. And if we are being so harshly judged for being "different," how much more would we judge those off of our homogeneous campus where society is even more diverse?
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
soul lost
soul lost
I was a captive to cowardliness,
terrified to tell Ryan where to turn
as he reached out, crawling through emptiness
through the dark
searching,
smoking,
sexing her.
He dropped deeper as it fast approached us.
talks of les trains, I taught about nothing
taught useless words watching wheels convalesce
round and round in his head never halting
Summer’s sun, signaling like crossing lights
the smells of growing grains gives to the air
a sense of adventure into the nights
for which no one can prepare.
He fastened his helmet for four-wheeled ride
through the kernels deafening pop ping pop
he couldn’t hear the mainline, and he did
not hear the rail before he had time to stop.
Underneath the boxcar his soul was snatched
before he ever knew of salvation
Ryan’s bourn burdens hung on tight, attached
to his soul, never with Him relation.
Fear sold me to Guilt I thought I deserved
crippled, whipped, and beaten. Tears for the lost
streamed down my cheeks for his soul not conserved
Il est mort and I have less
I was a captive to cowardliness,
terrified to tell Ryan where to turn
as he reached out, crawling through emptiness
through the dark
searching,
smoking,
sexing her.
He dropped deeper as it fast approached us.
talks of les trains, I taught about nothing
taught useless words watching wheels convalesce
round and round in his head never halting
Summer’s sun, signaling like crossing lights
the smells of growing grains gives to the air
a sense of adventure into the nights
for which no one can prepare.
He fastened his helmet for four-wheeled ride
through the kernels deafening pop ping pop
he couldn’t hear the mainline, and he did
not hear the rail before he had time to stop.
Underneath the boxcar his soul was snatched
before he ever knew of salvation
Ryan’s bourn burdens hung on tight, attached
to his soul, never with Him relation.
Fear sold me to Guilt I thought I deserved
crippled, whipped, and beaten. Tears for the lost
streamed down my cheeks for his soul not conserved
Il est mort and I have less
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Never Let Me Go
After scores of positive reviews, I had been excitedly awaiting the DVD release of the film Never Let Me Go (which I will indeed wait until post-grad to watch unless I can manage to approve it at IWU). While waiting for the film, I decided to read the 2005 novel by Kazuo Ishiguro of the same name. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the novel, having only seen the trailer for the movie. Without much hesitation, I purchased the book and set off on the adventure. Here are my thoughts. I won’t spoil the ending, but it would be too challenging to not mention some of the more crucial plot elements.
The book centers on the lives of three main characters: Kathy, Tommy, and Ruth. The entire piece is from the perspective of Kathy, who looks back on her life and relays the information to the audience. Knowing the little I did about the book, there seemed to be quite a few mysteries unbeknownst to the audience, as well as Kathy. These mysteries unraveled slowly and somewhat painfully. I easily became emotionally attached to the characters in the beginning. They were young schoolchildren, struggling to find answers to their existence.
As their childhood progresses, something seems off. Not with the students, but with their situation. The students themselves seem remarkably normal, enjoying sports, imagination, and learning. They seem to attend a boarding school called Hailsham, where they are tended to by “guardians.” About a third of the way into the novel, it is revealed, if the audience hasn’t yet caught on, that these students are clones created for the sole purpose of organ donation. Because of the seeming banality of their situation, these students quietly and calmly accept their fates.
The way Ishiguro left their life purposes a secret in the beginning gave the audience an opportunity to connect with Kathy and the others on a more human level than it would have otherwise allowed. The audience’s ability to witness the purity of their childhood souls contrasted the society’s view of the clones. Their not-so-far-off fictional society turns a blind eye to these poor “creatures.” They aren’t recognized as humans, let alone beings with souls.
As the story progresses, situations arise in the characters’ lives that parallel those we might experience, further solidifying the audience’s human bond with them. One example I distinctly remember was an incident where Kathy catches Ruth in a lie. She plots to expose Ruth, a move which she labels justice. Kathy plans the incident out perfectly, and executes it similarly as well. After her words of accusation come from her mouth, though, trapping Ruth, Kathy didn’t feel that sense of satisfaction she had once desired. Instead, she felt guilty, pitiful, and a little disgusting. Of course, Ishiguro hardly had to describe her feelings, the audience can formulate its own emotion based on its own experiences. Kathy exposed herself to vengeance and its consequences.
This book takes a serious look at what it means to be human and the bonds we share whether we were created by womb or by test tube. It ethically examines the consequences of seeing humanity as a commodity, shaming our consumeristic mindset. It shows the dirty, gritty realness of true love and sacrifice. It reveals aspects of our own souls we can only find by examining another’s. It challenges the extents we will go to as a society to get what we want. It challenges me on a personal level to seek truth and compassion.
If you don’t mind a slow, downbeat read with glorious substance and a deep, lasting end result, I would highly suggest reading Never Let Me Go.
The book centers on the lives of three main characters: Kathy, Tommy, and Ruth. The entire piece is from the perspective of Kathy, who looks back on her life and relays the information to the audience. Knowing the little I did about the book, there seemed to be quite a few mysteries unbeknownst to the audience, as well as Kathy. These mysteries unraveled slowly and somewhat painfully. I easily became emotionally attached to the characters in the beginning. They were young schoolchildren, struggling to find answers to their existence.
As their childhood progresses, something seems off. Not with the students, but with their situation. The students themselves seem remarkably normal, enjoying sports, imagination, and learning. They seem to attend a boarding school called Hailsham, where they are tended to by “guardians.” About a third of the way into the novel, it is revealed, if the audience hasn’t yet caught on, that these students are clones created for the sole purpose of organ donation. Because of the seeming banality of their situation, these students quietly and calmly accept their fates.
The way Ishiguro left their life purposes a secret in the beginning gave the audience an opportunity to connect with Kathy and the others on a more human level than it would have otherwise allowed. The audience’s ability to witness the purity of their childhood souls contrasted the society’s view of the clones. Their not-so-far-off fictional society turns a blind eye to these poor “creatures.” They aren’t recognized as humans, let alone beings with souls.
As the story progresses, situations arise in the characters’ lives that parallel those we might experience, further solidifying the audience’s human bond with them. One example I distinctly remember was an incident where Kathy catches Ruth in a lie. She plots to expose Ruth, a move which she labels justice. Kathy plans the incident out perfectly, and executes it similarly as well. After her words of accusation come from her mouth, though, trapping Ruth, Kathy didn’t feel that sense of satisfaction she had once desired. Instead, she felt guilty, pitiful, and a little disgusting. Of course, Ishiguro hardly had to describe her feelings, the audience can formulate its own emotion based on its own experiences. Kathy exposed herself to vengeance and its consequences.
This book takes a serious look at what it means to be human and the bonds we share whether we were created by womb or by test tube. It ethically examines the consequences of seeing humanity as a commodity, shaming our consumeristic mindset. It shows the dirty, gritty realness of true love and sacrifice. It reveals aspects of our own souls we can only find by examining another’s. It challenges the extents we will go to as a society to get what we want. It challenges me on a personal level to seek truth and compassion.
If you don’t mind a slow, downbeat read with glorious substance and a deep, lasting end result, I would highly suggest reading Never Let Me Go.
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