Well, as far as I can tell, these shows are based off of incredibly shallow plots and an extraordinary amount of stupidity is made manifest by most of these shows and most of what is on television today anyway.
Does this mean that I think of myself as extraordinarily intelligent, in fact no, I feel quite stupid most of the time. Although I wish that this were not so. In fact I have so many great books and even books on art and culture that I really mean to get to and understand. Yet I don't somehow get to them. It must be in the way I conduct my day, I have never liked to get up early because that always seemed like a waste of good sleep and it is a small rebellion since I have this idea that if you get up early you should exercise. Not that I don't like to exercise, in fact it is a favorite hobby (strangly enough). But I think I will do myself a favor and get up earlier to read, maybe I can get past this frustrating block which is keeping me from it.
I am reading a very much celebrated book called The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann. It is a rather long way of getting accross his thoughts on the peculiarity of time, which I have thought about myself. I was up once, very late, sitting cross legged on the rug. I had one of those trippy moments when you think somehow outside of yourself. I was thinking about the different realities of people all around me. How some were sleeping, totally unaware of the passage of time, and some were either driving around or working (which I thought at the time would make one all to aware of the lateness of the hour). I had this thought, that there really was no time at all. If you were awake all of the time there would be no beginning or end, there would only be "now." No yesterday or today, only the present.
One book that was rather difficult for me to read was "Love In The Time of Cholera" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I knew that it was a literary masterpiece. I loved how vivid the characters became. It was very interesting, yet, very difficult to read. Marquez is even more learned than I. He has a better grasp on the english language than I, who have been speaking english since my birth. I had to read with a dictionary at hand and still found it tedious because I was constantly looking things up and frustrated because I couldn't keep the definitions of all of those words fixed in my head. Then the book was difficult also because of how freely Marquez treats the subject of sexuality. I have been raised a good LDS (Mormon) girl. Truly I find a great deal of happiness from my religion. Yet this also makes it difficult to try and get through such a symbolic book, seeped with pornographic imagry. It made me very ill to read this book though at the same time I was facinated by the story. Plus the story is very tragic, very difficult to accept, I guess you could say that it is a great treatsie on fate.
A little maturity and objectiveness allows me to look at great works of art with a critical eye. Such as Da Vinci's venturian (sic) man or other such works of art. What beauty and form the artist finds in the human body. Yet by very nature I hate the baseness that some people have in the viewing of others bodies. I prefer or try to see others souls, that is how I feel people out. I am naievly unprepared for those who view life through the base, bodily form. It is irritating to me that men in particular are so fixated upon it, yet that is how it is. Of course I do notice when someone looks healthy or well, and I do find myself stupidly comparing myself to other women (a lot, cure the habit). Of course I like the male form, but I am not overly fixated on it.
I celebrate the enobling effects of good nutrition and exercise. It is truly satisfying to see others feel well, and be able to converse with someone who's mind is clear. I am patient with others though who don't understand how wonderful they could feel, because I too was stuck in the rut of the SAD (Standard American Diet) diet.
I had a girl from Argentina remark to me about how horrible the food is over here, and about how we did not dance at parties (You know I really am horrible at geography and I am trying to figure out how to fix this lack). She was so lively, explaining, even with very little english, how the parents would save the candy from the Pinyata (sic), and how they made the children dance before they could hit it. Man, that is a culture that is facinating to me.
How dull Americans can be, with their habits. Their food, digusting hot dogs, potato chips, and random salads, bland, bland bland. Their habits, limited social interaction, not much warmth. Jealousy's and pettiness, which I guess can be found anywhere, but nevertheless distasteful. No wonder so many of my friends have turned with desparation to the colorful variety of food found around the world.
My family sadly is very dull when it comes to this kind of thing. My grandmother however was a lady of refinement and taste, she had interesting parties, of which I have pictures but very few memories. How I wish I could have an interesting party sometime, with people who were educated enough to hold intelligent and insightful conversations.
Tongans (my husbands family) are good for parties, very Americanized parties, with more food than their guests could possibly eat. They do not sit around and hold learned conversations, as far as I can tell anyway because I don't speak Tongan, though I do understand quite a bit. I did read a book by a man who was trying to save the Samoan rainforest who definantly discovered a great deal of interesting culture, a lot of the same culture that Tongans have and are still steeped in over in Tonga. They hate any comparison with Samoans though because they are enemies with them.
Well, I guess I have been writing quite a bit of nonsense, but it feels good to write it all out. I hope you are all having a good day.
~Strawberry Girl
Does this mean that I think of myself as extraordinarily intelligent, in fact no, I feel quite stupid most of the time. Although I wish that this were not so. In fact I have so many great books and even books on art and culture that I really mean to get to and understand. Yet I don't somehow get to them. It must be in the way I conduct my day, I have never liked to get up early because that always seemed like a waste of good sleep and it is a small rebellion since I have this idea that if you get up early you should exercise. Not that I don't like to exercise, in fact it is a favorite hobby (strangly enough). But I think I will do myself a favor and get up earlier to read, maybe I can get past this frustrating block which is keeping me from it.
I am reading a very much celebrated book called The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann. It is a rather long way of getting accross his thoughts on the peculiarity of time, which I have thought about myself. I was up once, very late, sitting cross legged on the rug. I had one of those trippy moments when you think somehow outside of yourself. I was thinking about the different realities of people all around me. How some were sleeping, totally unaware of the passage of time, and some were either driving around or working (which I thought at the time would make one all to aware of the lateness of the hour). I had this thought, that there really was no time at all. If you were awake all of the time there would be no beginning or end, there would only be "now." No yesterday or today, only the present.
One book that was rather difficult for me to read was "Love In The Time of Cholera" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I knew that it was a literary masterpiece. I loved how vivid the characters became. It was very interesting, yet, very difficult to read. Marquez is even more learned than I. He has a better grasp on the english language than I, who have been speaking english since my birth. I had to read with a dictionary at hand and still found it tedious because I was constantly looking things up and frustrated because I couldn't keep the definitions of all of those words fixed in my head. Then the book was difficult also because of how freely Marquez treats the subject of sexuality. I have been raised a good LDS (Mormon) girl. Truly I find a great deal of happiness from my religion. Yet this also makes it difficult to try and get through such a symbolic book, seeped with pornographic imagry. It made me very ill to read this book though at the same time I was facinated by the story. Plus the story is very tragic, very difficult to accept, I guess you could say that it is a great treatsie on fate.
A little maturity and objectiveness allows me to look at great works of art with a critical eye. Such as Da Vinci's venturian (sic) man or other such works of art. What beauty and form the artist finds in the human body. Yet by very nature I hate the baseness that some people have in the viewing of others bodies. I prefer or try to see others souls, that is how I feel people out. I am naievly unprepared for those who view life through the base, bodily form. It is irritating to me that men in particular are so fixated upon it, yet that is how it is. Of course I do notice when someone looks healthy or well, and I do find myself stupidly comparing myself to other women (a lot, cure the habit). Of course I like the male form, but I am not overly fixated on it.
I celebrate the enobling effects of good nutrition and exercise. It is truly satisfying to see others feel well, and be able to converse with someone who's mind is clear. I am patient with others though who don't understand how wonderful they could feel, because I too was stuck in the rut of the SAD (Standard American Diet) diet.
I had a girl from Argentina remark to me about how horrible the food is over here, and about how we did not dance at parties (You know I really am horrible at geography and I am trying to figure out how to fix this lack). She was so lively, explaining, even with very little english, how the parents would save the candy from the Pinyata (sic), and how they made the children dance before they could hit it. Man, that is a culture that is facinating to me.
How dull Americans can be, with their habits. Their food, digusting hot dogs, potato chips, and random salads, bland, bland bland. Their habits, limited social interaction, not much warmth. Jealousy's and pettiness, which I guess can be found anywhere, but nevertheless distasteful. No wonder so many of my friends have turned with desparation to the colorful variety of food found around the world.
My family sadly is very dull when it comes to this kind of thing. My grandmother however was a lady of refinement and taste, she had interesting parties, of which I have pictures but very few memories. How I wish I could have an interesting party sometime, with people who were educated enough to hold intelligent and insightful conversations.
Tongans (my husbands family) are good for parties, very Americanized parties, with more food than their guests could possibly eat. They do not sit around and hold learned conversations, as far as I can tell anyway because I don't speak Tongan, though I do understand quite a bit. I did read a book by a man who was trying to save the Samoan rainforest who definantly discovered a great deal of interesting culture, a lot of the same culture that Tongans have and are still steeped in over in Tonga. They hate any comparison with Samoans though because they are enemies with them.
Well, I guess I have been writing quite a bit of nonsense, but it feels good to write it all out. I hope you are all having a good day.
~Strawberry Girl
1 comment:
The SAD diet, I like that. Not the food the word. I can't believe people can eat hotdogs, then you try to tell them what they are eating and they say they don't want to know. I don't like TV very much ethier, I can tolerate few shows, and the news, but sometimes I just don't want to watch it. the brain activity of watching TV is similar of that, if you were to sit in a room with the lights off. I would rather challenge myself, and not become a human vegetable.
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