Theses eat human souls.
3rd February 2006 - Blase, Bp. and Mart.
Refusing my subjective heteronormitivity are you? Well, screw you all, Dirty Queer Theorys and post-structuralists.
Over the last few days I've worked through the nasty queer theory book and decided it really does have absolutely nothing to offer my thesis. Only good part of the book was the history of civil rights groups and how the gay, black and feminist ones all put effort into taking down the others. People suck.
Not much else to say for recent days, I've spent my evenings reading (still Mind's Eye, which I've almost finished and am very happy to have read) and haven't done much else of note.
This morning I had a nice long meeting with my supervisor, I have to go back and redo a lot. It's set my timeframe back a chunk, but I think I'll end up with a better thesis for it. Other downside is it means dropping some of my original research out, as the focus shifts enough to make some of it no longer relevant to the argument.
It also means there is no chance for the May graduation now. I should be well and truely finished by then, but it won't be marked in time.
The truth about freedom
09 February 2006 |
| By JOE BENNETT |
The purpose of a cartoon is to tell the truth. Truth is immediately recognisable and often funny.
The Muslim world has not found the cartoons funny. The ostensible reason is that Islam forbids pictures of Mohammed. But that reason doesn't stand scrutiny. Five minutes on the internet and I had discovered several pictures of Mohammed. I am also reliably informed that you can buy a picture of Mohammed in the central market at Teheran. So, there must be something else that's upsetting the Islamic world.
I have seen only two of the cartoons. The first depicts Mohammed with a bomb in his turban. It is not particularly witty. The point it is making is that some people commit acts of murder in the name of the prophet. That point is true.
The reaction of a few Muslims has been funnier than the cartoon. "Slay those who insult Islam," said one placard carried by a protester, thereby exquisitely reinforcing the point of the cartoon. He reminds me of the Christian fundamentalist who murdered an abortionist on the grounds that the abortionist committed murder.
The second cartoon is wittier. It depicts Mohammed emerging from heaven to apologise to a stream of dead suicide bombers for having run out of virgins. The reference is to the promise of 144 virgins to anyone who dies for the Islamic cause. (What attitude this implies to women, I shall ignore for the moment, though it does make me wonder what female suicide bombers get in the hereafter.)
What has been ignored is that the two cartoons invite two simple questions: First, does Islam condone suicide bombers? Does it approve of people blowing themselves up and killing the innocent? If so, such a faith should be as universally condemned as Nazism. If not, if Islam does not approve of murder, then every imam and ayatollah should stand up and say so.
Second, is it a tenet of the Islamic faith that suicide bombers get a gross of virgins in heaven? If so, then once again the faith should be universally condemned. If not, then every imam and ayatollah should stand up and say so. And if they did, the hated cartoons would stop.
What has prevented these simple questions being asked is the usual argument about respect. It is our duty, the argument runs, to respect other people's beliefs. I, for one, have never had any idea why. Anything true can always withstand mockery. Copernicus' belief that the Earth moved around the Sun endured everything the Catholic Inquisition could throw at it. And the Inquisition didn't just print cartoons. It incinerated its enemies. But the truth endured.
The Western belief that has sparked this controversy is the belief in freedom of speech. It's a belief I share, because history demonstrates a free press is our best defence against tyranny. Every tyrant in history has muzzled the press.
Ostensibly our leaders share my belief, but when the heat came on they renounced it.
"I approve of freedom of the press," said Prime Minister Helen Clark on television, "but . . ."
"I approve of freedom of the press," said National leader Don Brash on television, "but . . ."
In other words, both of them worried more about votes or exports than about the truth.
In doing so they echoed Hamdi Hassan, an Egyptian MP. "Freedom of expression," said Mr Hassan, "does not mean people are free to insult prophets."
I'm sorry, Mr Hassan, but that is precisely what it does mean.
The vast majority of the 1½ billion Muslims in this world are good and peaceable people. They don't blow themselves up. They are closer to Mohammed than their leaders are. The same is true of Christians and Christ.
Both religions began with one man. Both men were apparently tolerant. Both proposed a system of living, a code of social behaviour. After their deaths, however, their teachings became perverted. They became dressed in nonsensical theology. That theology ossified into a system for gaining and retaining power. It became, in other words, merely political.
The grip of the Islamic authorities in Iran is indistingushable from the grip of, say, the Catholic authorities in Spain and Ireland well into the 20th century, or the grip of the Communist Party in the Soviet Union. Such a grip is a noxious thing.
And if a dozen cartoons can shake it, it's a vulnerable thing.
7th February 2006.
Was just sittin ghere reading about the Voynich Manuscript, when I realised I hadn't updated this beast in a few days.
Saturday I had a lazy day at home being annoyed at the lameness of my thesis. Not productive, but somehting that happens. Saturday night I went to Alexandrea and Shannon's farewell drinks (they skip the country tomorrow). It was a fun night, though absinth turned out to not entirely agree with me. There was also a scarily pushy drunk woman who was less than polite about her efforts to make me drink more after I'd decided I was quite drunk enough for the night. She was like the anti-Alexandrea (Alexandrea being one of the world's nicest drunks). I had also dragged Oli along. It was a fun night.
Sunday I had a nasty dose of reflux, which I'm blaming on the absinth. It was not pleasant. Mid-afternoon I returned Mind's Eye to the library. While quite unlike Paul J. McAuley's other books, it is very worth reading. Then I walked to Musselburgh for dinner with my grandparents. Eating tomatoes at dinner when I already had reflux was very unpleasant. I have to learn not to make myself sick.
Monday, I met up with Oli and spent the day watching the Superbowl, first half at Eureka and second at the Outback. I plain don't get the rules. But it was a fun day and drinking and eating unhealthily. After the game was over we went to a BBQ at one of his friend's places. Then I skivved off early to be home in time for Desperate Housewives.
Today's quote is stolen from The Dominion Post (Thanks to stuff).
11th February 2006 - Translation of S. Fredeswide, V.
Weird, my eyes are yellowy-green today. I'm sure I've not seen them this colour before. Could be ominous, maybe an ominous omen.
Tuesday, I was in the office doing work for a while, then left early to be social with Midget for a while.
Wednesday, I mostly spent in the office I got a reasonable amount of work done before a quiet night at home in front of the idiot box.
Thursday, repeat of Wednesday, but with my getting some stuff finished (my proposed new structure) and handed in to my supervisor. Nothing massive, but feels like an achievement.
Yesterday, I went in for morning tea in the department, and did some readings. like most of the week I had packed lunch with Michiel. In the afternoon I went to a showing of the Lemony Snicket movie. It was better than I thought it would be. Which I guess doesn't say much. Then after dinner I got dragged out of my house by Reece to see Brokeback Mountain. I'm pretty sure I was being taken along so the rialto staff wouldn't think him and his other friend (whose name I don't recall but was in the Kegan or Keran sort of name range) were a gay couple going to a gay love movie on a gay date. The movie is good, if shameless Oscar-bait. Left me feeling more than a little depressed though. Not just in the way it was trying to either. Left me realising the universe had cursed me to grow old an dlonely and crazy and own many, many cats. If emotionally-retarded loner freak in-denial-gay cowboys can find great love, that fact I can't makes me a true failure as a human being.
It's a happy thought...
Today, I got up early and headed to meet Meg at the pool at 8:30. My weekly swim happened for, I think, the first time this year. A bit over an hour swimming and aquajogging with Meg before she headed off and I did about another hours worth, as I'm fat and need it, and because I needed to get my moneys worth out of paying to get in. by the time I left I was sore, and felt a little like I might fall over. I think I was overdoing things just a little. Then I went to town to get my mother a birthday present (late due to having entirely forgotten), and dropped it to her house before coming home to blob for the day.
I'm still in a weird funk after that movie. Mood of grouchiness even. I had a chat to Si about it today, but talking to Si just reminds me how much I miss the belief I used to have in the friendship. I guess I'm just crazy.
14th February 2006 - Valentine, Bp. and Mart.
I'm having a sudden craving to get a tattoo. A tattoo that reads "We have done the impossible, and that makes us mighty".
Saturday night I spent in happy anti-socialness.
Sunday I arsed about at home. I was expecting visitors but they cancelled so I had a quiet day of puter gaming and generally being a slacker.
Yesterday I had to be in my supervisors office at ten, for a meeting that lead to yet another shift in thesis focus. It does make things look tidier, but is going to lose me even more of my original research, and lose stuff that took a very long time for the little results. I guess it needs done, but I'm not one hundred percent happy about it. Mid-afternoon Meg came and resued me from getting hell grumpy in my office. We headed back to my place were she read some of my comics, played some sims, and watched a movie while eating pizza. Made for a good day.
Today I had a meeting with a woman selling life insurance. I decided not to buy, but it sucked up a chunk of morning. Her accident coverage was actually kind of tempting, but I realised it'd just encourage me to hurt myself more often. After doing just a little work, and packed lunch with Michiel, I headed into town and bought myself Serenity on DVD to go in the collector's edition tin that Shelley gave me (thus buying herself a spot on my top-ten people to make a clone army of list). The DVD was my Valentines present to myself (to be followed by making myself dinner, a romantic night and movie watching with myself and ending in sweet, romantic auto-erotic Valentines self-loving). Anyway, the rest of the day went to work doing.
I hate St. Valentines. It's the universe rubbing in the fact I'm an unlikeable arse.
16th February 2006 - Juliana, V. and Mart.
Tuesday night I did not sleep well. There were weird dreams about mail hiding from me, and my having of bring pink and peeling sunburnt eyeballs. End result, Wednesday my brain was good for basically nothing. So instead of constructive work it featured special feature watching, the weekly brain poking, shopping for handkerchiefs and underwear (an exciting use for christmas gift vouchers) and getting my giant hair of scariness chopped off. I got this years ID card, not thrilled about the colour photo factor (I liked the many years of ID cards being printed in greyscale) but atleast this years one doesn't have the vague kiddy-fiddler-ness of those of the last couple of years.
I realised that every time I talk to Si now I just ramble about pointless shit, and it has been bugging me to the point I've taking to just not doing it. During my weird sunburnt eyeball dream it finally occurred to me why. Seems I still have a lot more anger than I thought I did. I thought I was through to just annoyance, maybe a little comedic anger. Seems, as usual, that I was wrong.
I'm so damn petty. It's a worry.
Walking to varsity I passed a hot ginga, and turned around to do the old check out from behind thing, and got caught. Embarrasing, even though I know logically the being caught also means I was also being looked at from behind. Still, left me feeling like a dirty perve.
Then crossing the alambra field I stopped and chatted Whedon to a browncoat I met in the queue to see Serenity at the movies. It was a nice long chat, overshadowed only by my feeling a little bad that I can't remember his name even though I'm pretty sure I've been introduced multiple times. It might be Peter.
Then office and work and achieving bugger all while listening to the greatest hits of Velvet Underground on repeat. Packed lunch with Michiel and more of the music listening and failing to achieve thesis-goodness. I'm about to go off to dinner with Alana, just have to decide if I need to put on trousers or shoes. Neither are things I wear often recently, but maybe I'll need to for tonight.
18th February 2006.
Thursday evening featured my eating far, far too much at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I felt so very, very bad by the end of it. I think my slight out-eating of Oliver was a bad plan. Though atleast I was getting value for Alana's money. And I never did put trouser or shoes on before I went either.
Friday was an office work type day. Nothing too interesting happened until 4 in the afternoon when I went to the first year arabic classes play in the humanities tea room. It was sort of funny in that I had no idea at all what anyone was saying. And then the lecturer made the audience stay for a meal of arabic food. It was interesting and mostly tasty, though the cake was far too sickly sweet. Then I spent the evening at home, mostly playing the Sims. I was supposed to be at a flatwarming, but I couldn't be arsed.
Today, I've spent pretty much the whole day playing the Sims. I think I'm playing it too structured to a plan and not enjoying it the way people are supposed to. My breeding plan may yet work though, I'll have to see. Population manipulation probably isn't the intended game play style but it is the one the appeals to me. This probably says bad things about me as a person. I didn't leave the house at all until tea time, when I got me and my flatmate takeaways from the gardens.
This evening I've been having a surprisingly nice chat with Si, mostly about nothing, but it is still pleasant. I vaguely implied I'd meet someone out clubbing tonight, but I'm feeling too lazy and would rather stay home and play Sims - will have to see how this one pans out.
19th February 2006.
I should be having an early night after last night's lack of sleep. But that would be sensible.
Against my own expectations I actually left the house last night. The friend I was supposed to meet wasn't where I was expecting to join his group of peoples and I ended up hanging out with Ceril (the giant), who I used to be kind of friendly with but am pretty much too lazy to ever actually keep in contact with. I ended up hanging out most of the night with a couple of his friends. Old married that seemed happy enough together that I had to fight the urge to be childishly jealous of their lives. I had a fun night, and stayed out much later than I had planned to while having more fun than I had thought was possible int eh circumstances. Basically a win.
Slightly disturbed that the first time I've met someone who actually appeals to me in ages it is someone entirely unobtainably spoken-for and old enough that any thing that happened would require a breach of the half-age-plus-seven rule. And it is a rule ought never be broken. Divine punishment would await (yes, I realise that my believing in divine punishment is odd). Possibly it's just a case of forbidden fruit seeming appealing. Or possibly I'm just setting myself up to be old and bitter. [amendment 21st Feb 06: It occurs to me it is really a safety thing. The spoken for are safe in the whole nothing will ever happen way. I may have issues.]
This morning, after far to little sleep, I went to Tavendale's farewell brunch. Pancakes are a nice way to start the day, but the Caper's ones failed to live up to the reputation. Then after some being social it was off to the office to try and achieve some work. But after not much over 4 hours sleep - it was unproductive. I kept zoning out, so midafternoon I gave up and came home to chat about crap with Si for a while and then play some sims.
It is now closer to midnight than 11, and I really should be sleeping.
21st February 2006 - Last day for LXX.
Yesterday, I went in to the office, stopping by the tent village to hunt for free stuff (not a good supply this year - bad o-week) on the way in. I finally got the book on Pain read - and decided it doesn't have anything helpful for my topic. I should probably still include it in my bibliography just in case it affected my thinking somehow, but I'm unconvinced. At about 3:30 an attack of eye strain led me to head home and get caught in the days token rain. Ah, the wetness. Last night my brother visited and talked over Desperate Housewives - which is mildly irksome. But I guess that is the price of family.
Why could I not have been an orphan?
Today, writing mostly. My supervisor wants my introduction written so he can see exactly how I'm arguing the new focus he has put on my thesis. I see this ending in tears - and I am loath to cry.
23rd February 2006.
I've been loading up on bad foods - getting them in before Lent starts next week. I'm such a fatty, though people keep commenting in the last few days on how good I'm looking. I'm pretty sure it is the world working a communal backhanded one on me.
I have to work out the protocol for three way email conversations - having ended up in one I have no idea when I'm supposed to send a carbon copy and when I'm not. It's irksome.
Yesterday, I skivved off far too much of the day at Club&Socs day. Students for a Free Tibet have asked me to be their president this year, but I'm not sure I have time and worry I'd do an insufficient job. It is one group that I think deserves good leadership. I also joined the mailing list for the tried-hard new medieval group. As usual OURS tried to get me to join, and as usual I said no. I did, however, almost join the young Nats purely due to the friendliness and eyecandiness of the evil label-bashing minion working the desk. That said, I suspect I'm too old to be allowed in, I'm not exactly young anymore.
My thesis is not making me happy. I'm getting stressed about it and it is messing with my sleep. Not a helpful thing, really.
In happier news, I have three chem labs a week coming, so I'll have some money. Spare money is nice, especially as it really is time I got my glasses prescription updated. If I can afford it, I am very tempted by the self darkening glasses. I can never find sunnies and it'd be nice to be able to see and not have to squint all at the same time (without having to stoop to clip-ons).
Rant. I'm also being let down by the way people were protesting the southpark bleeding mary episode. It wasn't actively insulting the church - which southpark has done before, quite nastily - and it wasn't even that offensive. People should look at themselves and think about the possibility they are over-reacting like extremist freaks. Best to be more than a hair's breadth of complete craziness. I'm also let down by the way some groups seem to think jailing a historian for doubting the scale of the holocaust is a good thing. Since when does western free-thinking society jail people for thought crimes.... Okay, it's not exactly uncommon, but it should be. Academic learning requires people thinking in ways that tests the boundaries of assumption. Otherwise we may as well just stop bothering. /End Rant.
24th February 2006 - Mathias Ap.
I hate my thesis. It has all exploded and destroyed my soul in fiery thesis shrapnel.
27th February 2006.
My muscles all hurt.
Friday featured Muriel's farewell morning tea, a short meeting with my supervisor and much attempting to fix my first chapter for the new topic focus. The evening I was antisocial like and stayed home.
Saturday I went swimming by myself in the morning after Meg cancelled late enough I was already organised and ready to go. It went pretty well, though I over worked a couple of muscles and they spent the rest of the day complaining. After swimming I met up with Meg at the Festival Market thing, browsed through Thieves Alley before heading home. Midafternoon Stu messaged me and we headed off to see Æon Flux. The movie was much better than I had expected, but entirely failed to live up to the series. Saturday evening I went to the Pool House for Shelley's farewell drinks and pool. I had a beer at eight and then spent several hours being social and pool playing. I suck at pool so bad. While walking home, around 11ish, I started to feel very odd. Some random lincolnite down for the weekend walked with me a bit and ranted about crap - did a great job of confirming pretty much all the negative stereotypes abotu agriculture students, I'm surprised he wasn't wear oversized gumboots and velcro gloves. By the time I sent him off toward the gardies and started climbing my hill I felt like I was drunk, which was more than a little disturbing being that I'd had only a single drink more than three hours previous. Once I got home my mind was doing weird things - so after a short check of the interweb I headed off to sleep.
Sunday I went to my father's work family picnic. One of dad's bosses assumed I ws his partner, left me feeling very, very old and a bit depressed. Seems I look like someone who'd date a 50ish year old monkey. Picnic got better though, there was much food and my father got a large bunch of the kids water fighting, which escalated into pretty much everyone getting pretty wet, and me further doing in my muscles trying to carry a teenager to the paddling pool and throw him in after he'd dumped a bucket of water on me. Had to hold my tongue when people were commenting on how great my father is with children. I felt a strong urge to reply "yes, it is amazing how good he is with other people's children". But I behaved. Then after showering off the pond smell I'd picked up I headed to my grandparents' for dinner. Made for a pretty good day, but meant of got none of the thesis stuff I was supposed to do done.
This morning I got to the office and found another gift from Shelley - she buys my affection far too well. A Serenity poster. Makes me very happy. Then lunch with people at Eureka to farewell Shelley from teh department. It wsa good, though my meal had a little too much tomato in it and left me not well suited for work for the afternoon. I was feeling a bit gross. So I ended up spending the afternoon watching The Sword of the Valiant: The Legend of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. I've been meaning to watch it since I started my masters, now I know I needn't have bothered. Bad, bad cinema. Some film ought be destroyed so further ages of man can't hold it against us.
Anyway, I should go sleep.
28th February 2006.
Fat Tuesday is here and my parcel was delivered at 7:30 in the morning - the one I ordered at Christmas.
It shall be a good day - though possibly not very thesis-y.
Well, I spent most of the morning reading my books that arrived. Then broke out the Fat-Tuesday-wear, the shirt of orange-ness, the tie of brownness and disco-ball-icity, the waistcoat of unfortunate elasticity (wow, that one is actually a word), and the fob watch of battery-that-died-at-some-point-since-I-last-had-it-out-ness. I looked fantastic(ally retarded). And thus dressed, with jeans and jandals to finish off the look, I went to town and had Japanese for lunch with my father.
My very short stint in the office gave the girls in there the chance to call me "adorable" (something never said of anyone post-puberty without a heavy dose of unflattering irony). Then I brought home my Serenity poster, and got back to reading my books until it was time to visit Alana for my last meal before Lent kicks in. It was good.
Which brings us to this years lent list:
The flesh of beasts;
Confectionaries (as a broad category);
Anything with chocolate;
Caffine;
Alcohol;
Pies;
Takeaways;
Friday meals will also be chickenless - comprising of Fish;
My lunches shall be packed or Hare Krishna supplied;
There will be no playing of the Sims before dinner on weekdays, and I may only play on Saturdays if I have been to the pool and done my swimming;
I will exercise some every day - I am pretty sure I dislike exercise enough and am ugly enough for this not to be vanity, while not ugly enough or intensely disliking of exercise enough for it to be vainglory.
And that is the list.
No comments:
Post a Comment