2003-01-06
I finished "Ishmael". Now, I'm reading "The Power of Myth" by Joseph Campbell. I don't know if I recommend it yet, though. It depends on what you're looking for in a book. This is more of a conversation about mythology than a book, per se. It's relevance, importance, and absence in our society. Largely, in our world. If that tickles your feathers, then give it a look.

I like it but that doesn't mean you will. I have found that the world is filled with a divergence of tastes and affinities. As it should be, I guess. Just means more pumpkin pie for me.

The thing I noticed in some books that, I guess, sorta annoys me ... is the use of really complex words to explain excruciatingly simple concepts. For example, in this book, although the ideas are extremely intereresting - I like the way this man thinks - sometimes the words might cause one to stumble. Really great ideas can be hunkered down with heavy, complicated words. And, really, I think - it's the ideas that matter most. Not the packaging. Don't matter how pretty the bow you use to wrap it, a pile of dirt will still be a pile of dirt.

Once, in a philosophy class, we were reading this guy that was so difficult to understand it was like doing the backstroke in a pool of molasses. The professor said "Don't worry if you don't understand what he's saying. He's too smart for anyone to really understand."

Hmmmm. I think you can make up you own joke about that statement. I filed that one away so the next time noone understands me because I sound like a complete and utter idiot like the time I drank too much tequila and thought I spoke fluent Spanish (did I mention we were in MEXICO at the time) - I'll say "The reason you think I'm not making any sense is because I'm too smart for your simple minds to understand".

Yeah, eat them apples.

Well, if it works for philosophers, I say give it a go. Just don't expect to have any friends - or self respect -in the morning.

But enough about that.

Um.

I really don't have much more to say.

My day was pretty uneventful. I seriously need some interesting things to happen to me. If not, I'm just gonna start making stuff up.

"Dear Diary,

Today I won the Nobel Prize for finally finding the cure for world hunger. Turns out all we needed to do was to give starving people some food. Who would have thought? We kept sending all those camera crews over to take pictures of them but WE NEVER BROUGHT ANY FOOD. So, one day I was watching late night television and this infomerical came on with this man standing amidst throngs of starving children, drinking filthy water. He was going on about how they hadn't eaten for days and how they are forced to drink polluted water. Then the idea came to me: "GIVE THEM A DAMN SANDWICH." For God's sake, man, stop yapping and break out some Coke. A box of apple juice. Carrot sticks. Yoohoo. A freakin' Life Saver.

So, all in all, it was a pretty cool day. Met the President. Filmed a guest spot on "Dawnson's Creek". Got my book on the New York Time's Bestsellers list. For the tenth year in a row. Gave birth to sextuplets. Cloned a cow. You know, the usual."

Yeah, right.

Meanwhile, in real life, I got up. Ate some bran flakes. Took a shower. Exercised. Lavished my cat with an unsettling amount of attention. Read some. Worked some. Drank some Nyquil (for my cold). Went into a coma.

That about sums it up. I think my life was far too eventful in the beginning. I've used up all my "interesting" points. Maybe there's some kind of quota or something.

But tomorrow is another day. And I'll be heading downtown to run a few errands. Who knows what'll happen. Maybe I'll be abducted by aliens or spontaneously grow a second head.

Keep your fingers crossed. :)

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