Labor Day is Today

While I don't normally use my online platform(s) for political purposes--though I am pretty passionate about many politicized issues--this post is in honor of International Workers' Day, also known as Labor Day throughout the world. May Day bears a lot of significance for many movements--namely, the labor and anarchist movement, and I've come to view this day as the "true" Labor Day, not the September U.S. "Labor Day" that is a joke of a holiday. Do we ever discuss workers' rights that weekend? Anyway, now for a short post...

The labor movement has taken a lot of bad hits lately. Proposals to raise the minimum wage, as was recently in New York, are met with intense resistance, as are measures to require paid sick and maternity leave--both of which are claimed to hurt "small business." Attempts to unionize have been promptly quashed and strikes of teachers and service workers can often fizzle. (though the recent fast food strike holds promise) A more recent phenomenon has been the reduction of hours for retail and food service workers so that employers don't have to give them health insurance when the Affordable Care Act kicks in (among other reasons). These reasons alone justify organized labor, though there are plenty more.

Ironically, I found this on a .com

While there are many worthy criticisms of labor unions today, one has to keep in mind that all power needs to be kept in check. That is how the Founding Fathers structured the federal government, so that the three branches would check and balance each other's power to keep them in line (whether that holds true today is another story...). Government alone cannot be counted on to keep corporate power in check--besides all the lobbying and schmoozing, government is not sufficiently opposed to a corporation to be considered a proper check to its power, anyway. What does this leave us? Labor unions, and for the previous few decades, both the government and corporations have been attempting to chip away at the power of labor unions (see: Wal-Mart and Wisconsin) in order to assert their own.

Unions, perhaps, are not the most ideal solution in a world that is increasingly run on the work of service, freelance, and independent contract workers. The volatility of the economy and the increasing necessity to change jobs or even careers has created an environment hostile to the development of strong, stable unions. But the only significant power that unions can have is in numbers. The more people that join unions, the more powerful the unions can be. This is reflected in the history of the United States. "Divided we are weak; united we are strong" never rings so true as in the case of labor.

The dichotomy of "labor" and "management" may become antiquated as an increasing number of people choose to be their own boss (and employee, out of necessity), but there will always be people who have the money and control of production, and those who produce. And us producers always have to keep in mind that together, we can remind management who gets the real work done around here.

The Writer's Life in the 21st Century

One of my resolutions for this year has been to devote more time to my creative writing, which I had sorely neglected in 2012. By "work", I don't mean the first draft, which I practically breathe on the page, but revealing it to new pairs of eyes for the first time, rewriting and revising, and sending it out to strangers in strange offices for them to judge my work on its publishability. And as I am finding out, this is where the real work in creative writing endeavors lies.

So far this has proved to be a challenge, as I work a full-time job that requires me to sit in front of a computer 35 hours a week. But it's not just these hours I can factor in--there is also commuting time, wake-up time, and decompression when I get home after devoting my entire day to someone else. So the last thing I want to do when I get home is to spend another 3-5 hours on another computer. And do more work--albeit of a slightly different nature.

In order to become a published writer, one has to not only write, but rewrite, edit, and gather enough gumption to send out her work to the best magazines and publishers (and know which ones to send to). This can take several hours out of one's day, and if one has a day job or a life of some kind, this would have to be spread out over several days. And one would also need to have the energy and ability to concentrate on such things for such a large block of time. This doesn't turn out to be so easy. Some days I am just burned out and don't want to deal with anything that is also work.

These elements, of course, apply to all writers who have had to struggle to make their voices heard. What makes this time, this century, unique? The unlikelihood that we will ever be able to make a decent living off our writing alone, for one--the number of writers who could was always small, but it seems to be smaller. This makes the grinding 9-to-5 even more essential to the living of a writer's life.

We also have a lot of distractions to push away in order to devote the level of concentration required to follow through with the remaining steps of the writing and publishing process. Fewer people will also likely read our writing--especially if one decides to write literary fiction, thanks in part to the aforementioned distractions. (As for myself, though I do enjoy literary fiction, have found myself increasingly bored with literary realism, so those of you who specialize in that genre--good luck with that) With the amount of time required in order to even get oneself out there, it's amazing that people manage to do it at all.

Obviously, it's not impossible. But what if you feel like you were more on top of things before? When your schedule was more varied? Before you had broadband internet access, and just had your imagination to keep you company on those long summer days? What about those days when all you want to do is write, but you have to work all day that day?

Introducing a New Rating Rubric!

Before I post my next review, I'd like to take some time to explain a second dimension with which I will be rating books, movies, and the like. In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm pretty lefty, and I usually take a paragraph or two to point out any problematic content in the story in question. So, why not build upon that and add a handy rating system to gauge the severity of the oppressive content?

As my overall rating is based on five, and we all love multiples of five, this "Oppression Scale" will be based on 10. 1 means little to no oppressive content (which will be few, I'm sure) and a 10 will be OMG RACIST SEXIST CLASSIST HOMOPHOBIC BULLSHIT! Most likely, a "good" book will have a low oppression score, and a "bad" book will have a high oppression score. I predict that many will score around 3-7. Now, this score is obviously entirely subjective, as different people will be bothered by different content to varying degrees. And no, cliche's will not be counted--unless they're racist cliche's.

Let's take an example: The Hunger Games (book). It features a strong female character, a diversity of races (shown in a good light), and is critical of violence and reality TV. However, I don't think Collins goes far enough in portraying the horror of forced violence, and is inconsistent in Katniss's reactions to violence and death. Overall, these are pretty weak criticisms, so I'll rate it a 2. I don't think we need to be too concerned about this book.

As for an example on the other end of the spectrum: Fifty Shades of Grey. There is nothing redeemable about this book. Christian and Ana's relationship is abusive, yet the author tries to make it seem like an ideal romance. And given that so many women seem to think that this is OK, that makes it even worse. I haven't actually read the whole thing myself--I credit Jennfer Armintrout and her wonderful recaps for cluing me in on the details. And since I haven't read the whole thing, I'll just give it a 9: highly oppressive.

So, that's how it works! Look for it in coming reviews!

The Long, Winding Road of Unemployment

This blog has been sadly neglected over the past couple months because I am unemployed, and as I recently relocated I have doubled down on the job search. I say "unemployed" because although I am certainly working sporadically in my spare time on occasional freelance projects (and the major writing project I took up a few months ago), it's making a negligible amount of cash, and like I said, I have debts to pay off.


This is Part 2 of my personal problems confessional--though, like in my last post, these problems are certainly not unique to me. Today, I discuss the issues of unemployment.

I have never had a "regular" job: that is, one with not only full-time, regular hours (I've had those), but also a salary, benefits, and a guarantee that you'll be working there for more than a year. Not so surprising for a person my age these days. And at this point, I'm not so sure that I want one. Not with all the trouble the search for one has been causing me.

Source

Many of my friends, at least, have a job--even if it's not in their chosen field. Others don't have all this debt to worry about, so they can live in a city for a couple months looking for work--provided they find something within those months, of course. And some people have it worse than I do. But at what point do I give up my pride and do something that I'd rather not do? After less than three months of my relocation, I am all but prepared to take drastic measures for my situation to change. I am sick of debt, sick of no fun, sick of putting up with my parents' maddening idiosyncrasies. There was a reason why I left in the first place, and I'm already being driven insane.

Oh, I've gotten the interview--twelve times so far this year. And that's not even counting the ones I had since last August. And that's good, I guess. But life has no meaningful buildup, so it tells me nothing, other than the fact that I look good on paper. I have some ideas for Plan B's in the event of a failure to find gainful employment--go abroad, follow through with that startup idea, work with my mom at her dreadful dead-end job--but this will require discarding my debt, either actually or just ignoring it. And that won't be so easy.

Coming across this old article in the New York Times the other day, then, obviously struck a blow close to home for me--and it rings quite false. I want to go places, but I would prefer to not own a car for at least two more years; did the author take into account the fact that many young people live in cities with good public transportation systems? How expensive everything is? And what is so bad about attributing luck as a major factor is success--because it is true! Not to mention that a lot of college grads are riddled with debt--it's quite understandable that we aren't so keen to accumulate more debt when we're so uncertain whether we can pay off what we already have.

Sure, I don't have typical career aspirations, so as long as I don't give up hope that I will make a name for myself. But I'm just so tired of spending so much energy on this, and I want it to end--my last interview  was on Tuesday, and I was thoroughly exhausted for the next two days. I want this to be over. I want things to change, but I have hardly any power to do so. Some days I feel like I'm not doing enough, and other days I feel fine. Fridays are the worst. I'm angry at a lot of people, including myself. I wonder if I shouldn't have relocated, if I should've started looking for internships earlier, if I should've tried harder at networking. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired. I'm so, so tired.

I can only console myself that it isn't my fault, and just try harder next time. Perhaps this will be over sooner than I think, but if I've learned anything throughout this agonizing search, it's that I can never, ever get my hopes up.

*now that all that's off my chest, we will return to your regularly scheduled programming*

Class and Making Art

Part 1 of some personal thoughts that have been running through my mind over the past year, and  need to get off my chest--even if it means admitting weakness and anxieties. Today, some self-doubt about my "true" calling: do people like me aspire to things that are "above our station"?

In December 2010 I graduated college, and my parents took out loans for a few semesters at my alma mater (I was so relieved to find out that they didn't have to take out loans for all of them). But since I'm the beneficiary/recipient of the loans, I'm the one who has to pay the loans back.

I have been paying back the 30,000+ dollars that I now owe...which will be even more as time progresses and interest mounts. And as I have failed thus far to find steady employment, it will take longer than I expected... unless I win big. This is partly my fault, of course: I took no part in the financial aid process, allowing my mom to do it instead. And I probably should have started looking for jobs and internships sooner than I did. Like a fool without a trust fund, I focused instead on my studies, art, and social life instead of my financial future. Who did I think I was, cavorting around with a bourgeois lifestyle instead of living within my class?

The main thing I'm concerned about is how long will I have to be in debt. I'm going into writing, publishing, and possibly academia, after all. Two of these have the potential to pay well and pay off, but two also do not. I'm afraid that I won't be able to succeed, that I will become poor and be forced to live with my parents...who are already suffering from the side effects of aging and economic woes, and still have two more kids to put through school before they're out on their own. In this context, I guess my biggest fear is that my dreams will remain unfulfilled, and worse, that debt will further prevent me from seeing them become more than dreams.

Famous writers have been in debt, of course: but for their education? If I went back to when I was looking at colleges, I would again choose to go to a private, artsy-fartsy college like my alma mater. But I can't think of any writers who struggled through student loan debt...maybe it was because they didn't have to struggle.

See, to study writing is a professional and artistic endeavor traditionally relegated to the privileged few. It was something until relatively recently only those whose parents or spouses were wealthy enough to provide well for them. There were some educated among the poor and minorities, but they were few and far between. And not many of them made a living on their writing, or even lived to see it published. This goes for all the fields of work and art where formal schooling is often necessary, but the arts have a particular privilege that is more evasive than many other fields: the fact that most artists, musicians, and writers will not make much off their work, if at all. This compels them to find other work.

Now I'm not saying that all artists should be able to just do art full time--sometimes we may need the discipline of a workday to get our shit together--but it helps if you have benefactors to support you. It's related to the fact that unpaid internships are more viable for rich kids than not-so-rich ones, and how girls like Rebecca Black are able to make music videos in spite of a desperate need for voice lessons. Wealthy relatives are able to make connections, get their kid a leg up on the rest: this includes attending the best schools. Rich kids are the only ones who get to study whatever they want unscathed of financial burden, unless they're disowned or something.

I've occasionally wondered during my tenure at college if I was aspiring to be a member of a class that I am not a part of. What good is what is basically an English degree in today's world? People do still read and write, and ebook technology, coupled with the internet, is adapting the industry to this brave new world. But will I ever make any good money doing what I truly love to do: telling stories? Statistics point to "no". I've wondered if I should have studied astronomy, or psychology, or computer science, thus getting a degree that was actually "useful."

I do not regret it.

It should not be that people have disadvantages coming into this world, just because of the parents they were born to. I realize that though I have at least a decade of debt (unless I get lucky or desperate--or if the world ends, of course) ahead of me, I have plenty of advantages over others because of my parents, who support me no matter what I choose to do. And if us artists decided not to study our craft--or even do what we want to do and put it out there--art would remain the realm of only the rich and the white. Will student loan debt really be able to prevent me from putting myself out there in the age of the internet? Probably not.

I guess my fear is really the fear of all of us who have this insatiable drive to create, but teeter on the brink of poverty when our voices are just beginning to emerge. The fear of disappearing into a life we do not want to live. And all because of a lack of funds. It's more than unfair--it's criminal, robbing us young people, and society at large, of our contributions.

"Community" and Absurdity

This week, let's talk TV. Specifically, one of my current favorite shows--and one of the few that I still watch on network television--COMMUNITY!

Community wrapped up its third season this month, with much fanfare.  From the mid-season hiatus to the feud between Chevy Chase and the creator Dan Harmon, to the essential firing of Harmon by Sony from his own brainchild, the show's seen a whirlwind year so far. While the fate of the show remains up in the air, with a shortened fourth season and new showrunners, we'll focus on the Community that exists right now--which in spite of all its flaws, I love. (I'll reserve judgement on the upcoming season when it airs; Community is much more than just one person now.)

Community, for those of you who don't know, centers around a ragtag group of misfits that somehow became a study group during their first week at the fictional and outrageous Greendale Community College. While the story initially revolves around Jeff Winger, the charming but egoistic former lawyer back in school only to earn a "legitimate" degree, the show eventually branches out to explore narratives around the other characters: Britta, a left-leaning high school dropout; Annie, a neurotic overachiever; Troy, a former high school football star; Abed, a probably-autistic pop-culture encyclopedia; Shirley, born-again Christian, mother, and aspiring businesswoman; and Pierce, the crotchety old coot and scapegoat of the group. This past season was the first season I've followed since the premiere (I didn't get into it until about halfway through the second season), and as much as some fans have complained about it being too out-there this season, this season has contained some of the best, most memorable episodes of the series.

For example, "Remedial Chaos Theory," in which we explore the different scenarios that would result from a roll of the dice, and "Digital Estate Planning," which is almost entirely presented in 8-bit animation as the gang plays a video game Pierce's late father designed to determine the distribution of his estate, accomplish feats of wackiness and character development rarely seen on your average sitcom (looking at you, Two and a Half Men). Not to mention the multiple paintball wars, a pillow-vs-blanket-fort battle, and an entire episode surrounding Dungeons and Dragons. But you know what these episodes have in common?

They're, quite simply, absurd.

Absurd in a good way. In the best way. Not like the absurd inconsistencies that run rampant in long-running sitcoms, such as leafy green trees in Pennsylvania (or Wisconsin, or New York, etc) in January, or the situations that are just plain silly (i.e. "jumping the shark"), or the central characters dating exclusively within their group of friends. Not to mention the ridiculously canned laughter in multi-camera sitcoms that gets a little annoying (especially in this age of single-camera comedy and snappier dialogue).

Deliberately absurd, stretching reality in myriad ways. Presenting it, in fact, in multiple dimensions, showing, through exaggeration, how the different characters are viewing a situation--or, possibly, what can happen if the characters take an already outrageous premise to extreme heights. For example, in the episode, "Virtual Systems Analysis", Annie almost literally (or at least that's how we see it) steps into Abed's mind through the Dreamatorium--Abed and Troy's Danger Room of imaginative play. We learn a little bit more about Annie and Abed's sensibilities, they learn from each other, and it still doesn't stray too far from the hyper-realism of the sitcoms from which the show draws inspiration.

There's a nostalgic aspect to this absurdity, as well: a lot of the situations are reminiscent of older children's TV shows--that is, ones geared towards a tween/teen audience--which often present frustrating but obvious villains, outrageous adventures, and a focus on friendship. (that last point is the most salient) Ones that come to mind are Drake and Josh, Ned's Declassified, Even Stevens... even Saved By the Bell. I don't mean this as an insult at all. Perhaps it's just because it takes place at a school, unlike most adult-oriented comedies.

In fact, as a fan of a lot of (not recent) children-centric TV, I love the ridiculousness that often goes on. These shows are naturally absurd, as reality is presented in a more kid-friendly point of view: and to kids, even older ones, just about anything is possible. Of course, they often suffer from the just-world fallacy and more often than not promote positive values whilst featuring good-natured (if buffoonish) kids.  But it's like these shows, except inverting the just world and goody-two-shoes principles (making it more Seinfeldian and Arrested Development-esque), appealing to adult misfit sensibilities, and much more self-aware. So I think much of the absurdity, as well as the diversity, in Community uncovers not just good comedy, but also the idea that there is no one single perception (or reception) of reality.

Consider, for one, that more than half of the students in the group are non-traditional (at over 21), so they already have had "non-traditional" life experience. And unlike most shows, only four of the seven core characters are white, and only two characters are Christian. As a result, the core characters of Community are shown to be complex, flawed human beings with their own troperiffic quirks. I can't help but like them and want to see more of their adventures, because Community really is just like life in that way--which is, as Forrest Gump puts it, like a box of chocolates--you never know what you're gonna get.

And most of the time, it is delicious.

*If you want to get into one new comedy this summer, make it Community! Also watch it this fall!* (end fan plug)

Are Books For Hipsters?



This past weekend, I attended the Boston Book Festival, where writers, readers, and thinkers of all most stripes could convene and share thoughts and ideas; learn more about local bookstores, publishers, and nonprofits; and get free stuff. I left the festival with enough reading material to last me at least a month, plenty of free shit, and a lighter wallet. It was a great day, and I had a pretty good time.

But, I noticed something I had noticed at a different event last month (that being a Primus concert). But for some reason I'd never really noticed before.

Man, are these people white.

Courtesy of Hot Guys Reading Books

At the BBF, there were some Asians (both east and south), and maybe a couple black people. All of the presenters at the panels I attended were white (though some people of color presented at other events). And it wasn't just the whiteness that took my notice. It was the similarities between these people that you could identify what type of reader they were. Nonfictioners dressed conservatively, passing for mainstream professionals dressed casual, but not too casual. Most were probably older than 30, and made good money. Younger nonfiction readers (whom I saw plenty of in the line to Chuck Klosterman's book signing) were textbook hipsters, though many could pass for normal on a liberal-arts college campus. Klosterman himself looks kinda like that. I didn't really notice a significant male-female ratio disparity, but plenty of the younger guys had beards. Hipsters cross over into fiction, their favored genre being literary fiction. I'm kinda glad I didn't go to the Jennifer Egan panel (though I do want to read her book), because that was probably overrun with hipsters. There are also nerdy readers, who dress unconsciously and often sport facial imperfections; you find them more often in science-fiction and fantasy circles. There's also the artsy nerds, who pierce their bodies and dye their hair and wear black, and maybe cosplay (if they're more nerdy). These folks were at the graphic novel panel, and maybe at the Steampunk one, too. As for the other people over 30, they basically looked like regular people or professors (or regular professors). Maybe a smattering of artsy or nerdy--I imagine that most people tone down their look as they get older. One thing was for sure: a person wearing Abercrombie and Fitch or (Science forbid) Ecko would look out of place in this crowd.

The predictable makeup of this book-buying demogrphic speaks to the current limits of the written word--or at least, the marketing of it. Plenty of people of color write thought-provoking books, so why weren't more of them featured? Did the organizers of BBF realize they were inviting a whole lot more white people--or maybe other nonwhites theyasked were busy that weekend. Is it really just a symptom of a greater issue in publishing, where whites get all the attention?

I think it speaks to an even greater issue: education. The BBF is a showcase for writers and intellectuals, most of whom have at least a Master's Degree, and have little to no recognition among mainstream readers. Romance, thrillers, horror, and other trashy genres are not represented here. However, these genres (as well as YA, which actually has a place in "higher" literature) are the books most people read, and pay for the more intellectual and artistic ventures. In this way, higher literature is more of a subculture, with a small, concentrated demographic. Just like any other subculture, they adopt a certain way of dressing and talking to identify themselves. These people graduated from liberal arts colleges (or that part of the university), work in academia or publishing, vote Democrat, and hold corresponding liberal views. Obviously, there's a lot of overlap with the hipster population. Though I think the lack of radicals was because they're all at Occupy Boston.

So why are books largely considered to be the realm of the educated? Well, it takes education to read, and more to make sense out of what you read. It takes even more to talk about it in a reasonable, rational manner with others. And the thing is, most people don't get that education, whether it's because they're poor, received little encouragement at home, or are otherwise dissuaded from reading (eg. favoring the instant gratification of TV and video games over books). Most of the BBF attendees were of European or Asian descent, races that are often better-educated than blacks, (and so goes the earning potential) and liberal because, well, we're all smart, and truth has a "well-known liberal bias". Whites, moreso than other races, are encouraged to "follow their dreams," and therefore are more likely to pursue unlucrative artistic careers like writing. (disclosure: this is from personal experience only) Whites also make up the majority of faculty members at many univerisities.

This, of course, all boils down to economics: whites make up the majority of rich people in the US, and therefore are more educated, because they go to better schools and can afford a good college, and therefore are more likely to read for fun. The unfortunate effect is that reading is becoming an elitist activity, especially as the gap between the rich and poor widens, after-school programs get cut, and public libraries closed down. As they say, knowledge is power, and if knowledge becomes less accessible, the possessors of said knowledge grow more powerful. While I doubt that this avid book-reading demographic's going to take over America (money is more powerful), we have to get people interested in reading and writing again, if only to harness untapped critical thinking skills and open people's eyes to the injustices committed towards them and their community every day. Then we can make a change.

So, back to the original question: are books for hipsters? Yes. And everyone else, too.(There's way more non-hipster books out there, trust me) Literature has something for everyone, if you look hard enough.

More Posthumous Praise for David Foster Wallace

The other day at work I had the pleasure of proofreading an anthology of essays by contemporary writers, thinkers, and journalists, which featured two essays by the one and only David Foster Wallace. I also just recently finished reading his essay collection A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again. I've written a bit about him before, and I'd like to expand my thoughts to his nonfiction, which bears a lot of similar characteristics to his fiction--albeit less tangential and unorthodoxically structured.

Wallace is one of those writers whom you like more and more as you get more familiar with their particularly peculiar style (like that great guy who's a little rough around the edges, a new bicycle, or prog-rock bands). The first work of his that I read, I liked enough to read more, and after reading three whole books by him (Infinite Jest, Fun Thing, and Interviews), he's become one of my favorite writers. I read Infinite Jest too early to truly enjoy it, as I think I'd like it better now that I'm more accustomed to Wallace's style. Perhaps I will read it, in bits and pieces, again.

But what's much more remarkable about Wallace's writing is his voice. This is most apparent in his essays, as his fiction isn't always third person. The details he gives in both genres are so intricate and yet so strange and striking as to almost be hyperbolic, making the mundane and generally not very interesting (tennis, state fairs, Caribbean cruises, among others) absurd and extraordinary. Wallace's journalistic style is observational and honest to his point of view. He also meanders from topic to topic, though it all underlies the same basic themes of the essay.

One of the numerous praises included in this edition of the book called Wallace, unimaginatively, "smart and funny"...and that really sums up his narrative voice (though the phrase "clever and humorous" better reflects his writing level). Though the more carefully crafted writing voice is not necessarily indicative of an individual's speech abilities, I can imagine that Wallace would be rather a pleasure to converse with--and it makes me all the more sad that I will not be able to meet him, at least in this life (not that I'd ever have the guts to approach an admirable writer at a book signing or whatever).

What's more (and this is what I was originally getting at) is that his writing voice makes him a person who's so--likable. Part of it is the fact that he does not write himself out of the nonfiction story he's telling (very often because he is experiencing the subject), so we get a lot of his perspective. And I found that I could identify with his various thoughts about a given situation, since he reasoned them so well. And I don't agree with Wallace on all things, by all means. He does acknowledge his privileges and shortcomings (though he doesn't feel entirely good about it), and he's nonjudgmental. Wallace occasionally ribs on a strikingly funny character of a person, and certainly expresses pity for and admits an inability to identify with ordinary folks, but does not accuse anyone of anything. Rather, he almost admires these ordinary people who end up in his essays, as he himself feels like a dysfunctional member of society. Though perhaps they could stand to be a bit more thoughtful (not in a condescending way, though).

It's impossible for me to say whether his writing style was indicative of his true self--one would think that such thoughtful prose would only come from the heart of the writer, as it often is. And from some of the posthumous articles I've read about him, it seems as though it does ring true. There's enough to say about David Foster Wallace to make up an entire dissertation (if someone hasn't already, I'm sure they're on it now that his oeuvre is complete), but for the sake of brevity, I'll stop here. If unusual, funny, and absurdist fiction or nonfiction floats your boat, check out his writing!

The Allure of Astrophysics

I studied writing, literature, and publishing in college, so I didn't get a whole lot of exposure to math and the hard sciences. The closest I came was the biological and chemistry aspects of environmental science and measurements made in a print-media design class. And I didn't mind so much--math and science weren't boring, but their formulaic consistency (especially as they got more complex) depicts a false representation of a constantly changing world. Could the earth itself ever be as predictable as the sine of 9?

But there's something about astronomy--and physics in relation to astronomy--that always intrigued me. Maybe it was my childhood obsession with Sailor Moon (a pop-culture phenomenon that I am dying to talk about, just waiting for the right time), or the lyrics in some metal songs that refer to astrophysical phenomena, but the planets and outer space, and space-time, have held my interest. Not enough to deter me from my more--er, creative--passions, but present nonetheless. And it's just one of the reasons why this blog can often appear unfocused: my mind is a multi-faceted prism of thoughts, interests, and ideas, so it's difficult to single out any one passion without outright rejecting the others.

Today I got to look through an actual astrophysics textbook (it's my job for the summer), and I wanted to sit down and READ it. At least attempt to make sense of all the formulas and diagrams permeating the book. I am far from incapable of understanding the complexities of astrophysics--last year I read an article by Stephen Hawking, and could follow it quite closely. I want to read more, but it can be hard coming across a relevant article when I lurk around unrelated websites.

I think the primary allure is that of the more neglected portion of my brain, if that's really how mental tasks are divided up. I always think through my writing applying logic and considering certain scenarios--more of a pragmatist than your average fiction writer, perhaps. It's also easier for me to understand astrophysics than other sciences, which I'm less well-versed in: computer science, for example. I know how to work MS Office and Adobe, but I don't really care too much what makes them work (well, maybe a little).

It can be disconcerting (at the very least) to be thinking about the vastness of the universe, and mind-boggling to think about how light perception is not objective, but subjective, and how time and space are interrelated. At the same time I like thinking about it when the subject comes up. It's fascinating to explore these mysteries, and I am totally behind those who do it for a living. Perhaps it's just an intersection between logic and intellectual spirituality.

The thing is, while the universe is fucking awesome and all, I tend to want to focus on stuff that's happening here on earth--and incredible entity in and of itself. And though scientists may have found a planet truly capable of housing life, we got to take care of this one.

Photo credit: Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics. Another cool thing about space: it makes amazing art.