Tuesday, September 30, 2003
do you know what i think of writer's block? there's no such thing. if someone can't think of something to write about or an idea to expound, it's only because he or she has the most boring life possible and never experiences anything worth writing about. it's only when people get out in the world, or even just in their community, and get involved with life. it's all about having new experiences and assimilating them into what you already know from your previous life's experiences. so the next time someone says they have writer's block, i think it's a good idea to tell them to go outside, get a snowcone, watch people in the park, attend a concert or a museum exhibition, try learning a new sport-- anything to get ouside themselves and their boring lives. to sum up-- i think the most interesting writers would be those who have the most interesting lives. i mean, everyone always says to write what you know. thus, the more exciting or varied one's life is, the more exciting and varied one's writing will be. i mean, who really wants to read 30 articles about the same concert touring around a country, written over and over, by the same writer with the same ideas and the same personality. if you wanted a real challenge, try writing 30 articles about the SAME concert, all from differing points of view. still, it wouldn't necessarily make for the most stimulating reading, from a purely aesthetic viewpoint. possibly something interesting to study, but then again, not everyone finds the same study material purely fascinating. i had a roommate at college who absolutely could not get enough of her biology book. i took biology. i couldn't wait to put the book DOWN. i have my suspicions that she actually sometimes slept with hers under her pillow. life takes all sorts. if it didn't, this world would be intensely boring and we'd probably have to ammuse ourselves by finding different ways of propelling the most boring people into outer space. come to think of it, that might be a good topic for next time-- exactly who would be on that list (aside from certain biology professors that i might be able to name, as well as people who insist on standing immediately outside of an eating establishment to take their smoke break), and how one would go about enforcing this earthly exile? interesting.
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
Phew! Time sure flies when you're having fun. I suppose I could excuse myself for not having written because I was on vacation, but even I would have to admit that's a pretty lame excuse. Still, I haven't completely shirked my writing duties and I am constantly reminded that I need to keep practicing if I expect to get into grad. school. Sort of weak reasoning, especially since there's not even a semblance of intellectual exposition on this page, but at least it makes me feel not so guilty when I write on company time.
But since the subject of vacation came up, at what better point to begin a dialogue and let my thoughts wander? Yes, I just spent 2 glorious weeks on that continent of our ancestors-- at least the ones who originally founded what we now know as the great United States of America-- namely Europe. (Incidentally, I find it interesting that a place with such renowned refinement and sophistication was named after a Greek princess who was abducted and raped by the god Zeus. Life is so much more interesting when you know the etymology of language, don't you think?) Well, I suppose I should clarify, since I didn't actually travel all over the continent. Primary time was spent in Great Britain, on the lush budding island of England. The remainder of the time was spent in that historically fascinating, if not somewhat historically-gruesome, land of deutsche. (For those of you who are less-than linguaphiles, that's Germany.) Perhaps the most interesting part of visiting any new land (aside from the history and, of course, the food) is the people that live there. The people make up the culture-- from clothing, colors, food (of course), transportation, attitudes, language, even architecture-- and I find it a fascinating study. And to be able to compare those attributes between differing landscapes and climates is one of the best parts about being the only animal with logic and reason. (Of course even that assumption is stretching it a bit with a few people I've met in my two-and-a-half decades of living.)
Already having the opportunity to live in the green and pleasant land of England, I am somewhat accustomed to their culture and people. Actually, assumptions about them are quite difficult because of the vast number of immigrants who are nothing like the stoic Brits who have inhabited the land for generations, many of them actually remembering the Boston Tea Party taking place, and taking great offense from it. No, these "imports" bring with them all the flavor and grit of their homeland, be it from Somalia, Zimbabwe, Pakistan, China, Portugal, Columbia, or Australia. Needless to say, it become somewhat of a chore to stereotype "English people" because they've turned into quite a simmering pot of differences. Of course, if you ask the hard-nosed "originals" they'll say England has gone to waste and they don't even recognize their own country anymore. But most seem to be quite welcoming and willing to adapt to their new brothers and sisters.
There is one obvious difference that absolutely must be pointed out, regarding differences in cultures. After hanging around London for only one day, my friend Casey (who on our first day in Germany took no less than 43 pictures) had already asked myriads of people to take our picture. The British were usually very accomodating and polite about being so imposed upon, but did nothing more than smile and nod before going on their merry way. This was not the case upon encountering a family from Nigeria. Standing at the derriere end of the lions on Trafalgar Square, we asked the father of this family to help us get some "Charlie's Angels" shots (since we all happened to be wearing the same uniform of black t-shirt and blue pants, and it seemed the only appropriate thing to do) and he happily agreed. After returning our cameras, the mother siddled over and sheephishly informed us that her daughter wanted her picture taken with us. Of course we were only too pleased to oblige and she promptly got a Charlie's Angels picture with the crazy white girls. Well, it was only a matter of minutes before we were engaged in conversation, telling about our trip, hearing about their month-long vacation plans, as well as being lectured on the Nigerian language and protocol for naming children. Before it was all over, we had exchanged email addresses, religious affiliations, more pictures, and hugs with this adorable family of 6. Needless to say, we never repeated this experience with any of the natives of that green and pleasant land. Perhaps it's best to let people take away their own inferences from this encounter, rather than stating out the blatant differences. Also, I may have to let any comments on Germany wait for another entry. It is, after all, making me quite homesick and ready to get on the next plane out of here.
But since the subject of vacation came up, at what better point to begin a dialogue and let my thoughts wander? Yes, I just spent 2 glorious weeks on that continent of our ancestors-- at least the ones who originally founded what we now know as the great United States of America-- namely Europe. (Incidentally, I find it interesting that a place with such renowned refinement and sophistication was named after a Greek princess who was abducted and raped by the god Zeus. Life is so much more interesting when you know the etymology of language, don't you think?) Well, I suppose I should clarify, since I didn't actually travel all over the continent. Primary time was spent in Great Britain, on the lush budding island of England. The remainder of the time was spent in that historically fascinating, if not somewhat historically-gruesome, land of deutsche. (For those of you who are less-than linguaphiles, that's Germany.) Perhaps the most interesting part of visiting any new land (aside from the history and, of course, the food) is the people that live there. The people make up the culture-- from clothing, colors, food (of course), transportation, attitudes, language, even architecture-- and I find it a fascinating study. And to be able to compare those attributes between differing landscapes and climates is one of the best parts about being the only animal with logic and reason. (Of course even that assumption is stretching it a bit with a few people I've met in my two-and-a-half decades of living.)
Already having the opportunity to live in the green and pleasant land of England, I am somewhat accustomed to their culture and people. Actually, assumptions about them are quite difficult because of the vast number of immigrants who are nothing like the stoic Brits who have inhabited the land for generations, many of them actually remembering the Boston Tea Party taking place, and taking great offense from it. No, these "imports" bring with them all the flavor and grit of their homeland, be it from Somalia, Zimbabwe, Pakistan, China, Portugal, Columbia, or Australia. Needless to say, it become somewhat of a chore to stereotype "English people" because they've turned into quite a simmering pot of differences. Of course, if you ask the hard-nosed "originals" they'll say England has gone to waste and they don't even recognize their own country anymore. But most seem to be quite welcoming and willing to adapt to their new brothers and sisters.
There is one obvious difference that absolutely must be pointed out, regarding differences in cultures. After hanging around London for only one day, my friend Casey (who on our first day in Germany took no less than 43 pictures) had already asked myriads of people to take our picture. The British were usually very accomodating and polite about being so imposed upon, but did nothing more than smile and nod before going on their merry way. This was not the case upon encountering a family from Nigeria. Standing at the derriere end of the lions on Trafalgar Square, we asked the father of this family to help us get some "Charlie's Angels" shots (since we all happened to be wearing the same uniform of black t-shirt and blue pants, and it seemed the only appropriate thing to do) and he happily agreed. After returning our cameras, the mother siddled over and sheephishly informed us that her daughter wanted her picture taken with us. Of course we were only too pleased to oblige and she promptly got a Charlie's Angels picture with the crazy white girls. Well, it was only a matter of minutes before we were engaged in conversation, telling about our trip, hearing about their month-long vacation plans, as well as being lectured on the Nigerian language and protocol for naming children. Before it was all over, we had exchanged email addresses, religious affiliations, more pictures, and hugs with this adorable family of 6. Needless to say, we never repeated this experience with any of the natives of that green and pleasant land. Perhaps it's best to let people take away their own inferences from this encounter, rather than stating out the blatant differences. Also, I may have to let any comments on Germany wait for another entry. It is, after all, making me quite homesick and ready to get on the next plane out of here.
