Journalism FAIL

I saw Robert Fisk tonight. Rather, I heard him speak at a lecture called, "Politics, Journalism and Globalisation of the Middle East." Man, what a crock of shit.

Not only did he do his damnedest to sell his book(s) but he wouldn't answer my question. At all.

FISK: Yes, the young lady in the back.
ME: Mr. Fisk, since you have mentioned that online journalism isn't going to succeed, and print journalism is a dying art, where do you recommend readers get their news, and moreover, how and where do you think journalism is going?
FISK: Oh. You're an American, eh? Well... journalism is changing, and that change can be seen on the internet, and making sure that online journalists can maintain a readership is important, but completely different from MY experiences... blah, blah, blah, buy my book(s).

Listen up, Fisk, I know that you're a big shot and you don't have to answer to anybody because you've achieved a buncha great things in your life, but your profession has to answer to someone, and that someone is The Rest of Us.

I wish I'd gotten an answer and then I wish I hadn't re-read his articles, because now I'm just pissed off that this guy gets to write garbage and is revered for it.

i don't know that for a fact. i can't say that. he obviously has some serious in-depth analysis and his writing is cohesive and well-supported. but it's still biased. and now, so am i.

Can you answer to THAT?

the calm before the storm

tomorrow we leave for dublin. tomorrow i celebrate my 28th year. tomorrow i turn in my essays, almost a week early because we are going to dublin.
but that's tomorrow.

i have spent the last two days studying like mad and writing like a lunatic.

the guys are out right now so i can get these things done. i think they're attempting to learn set dancing. i am sorry to miss that, but i have to get this work done today so that i can enjoy tomorrow.

deep breath.

wild horses can't tear me away

i don't think they were actually wild horses. they were more like tame ponies. maureen and i took another long walk today, to see some other ruins near the campus, and came across some gorgeous animals. two ponies, grazing in what looked like a football field. huh.

we approach, they whinny. we move towards them, they move away. they were calm and regal, and we were fascinated.

horses. just grazing. they were so relaxed it made me think about all the other animals i've seen since i've been here. the dogs aren't on leashes, and they never bark or chase one another. it must be the environment. things just move so much more slowly here. the Irish make jokes about how nothing ever starts on time here. parties don't usually start until about midnight. teachers are late, but never too late, to classes. time moves at a different pace here.

i know that in America, the clocks have been changed, which mean that I am now only 5 hours ahead instead of 6. this is odd. Ireland won't switch their clocks until April. i wish i had the time to find out the reasoning for it, but the one thing that is on a deadline are my essays, and i have more than a few of them to do.

homework. sigh. tear me away.

i'm having a little whine tonight after dinner

"You've heard of people calling in sick. You may have called in sick a few times yourself. But have you ever thought about calling in well?

It'd go like this: You'd get the boss on the line and say, "Listen, I've been sick ever since I started working here, but today I'm well and I won't be in anymore." Call in well." --Tom Robbins, Even Cowgirls Get The Blues

Being sick sucks. Being sick makes everything a chore, even walking to the Medical Centre to find out exactly how sick I am and how to get better. I really wanted to skip class today, but that quote kept running through my head and I couldn't justify missing a class, especially when I know that I'm going to skip a class or two to travel.

Sigh.

Bottom line is, I made it to class, but boy, was I sick. I can't wait to skip a class on account of being well.

Arguing for the Sake of Argument

I joined the University of Limerick's Debate Society. I still don't know if it was a good idea, but I wanted to join a club other than the International Society. No offense to the International Society, but I came here to meet and mix with Irish people, not other Americans.

It's one thing to argue with someone when they're pissed (drunk), but it's an entirely different thing when you argue with someone who is drunk AND well-informed. The debaters are exactly that. The type of debating is specific to EU, being British Parliamentary Debate. I may have already described it in a previous entry.

Tonight's topic: That this House believes (it always starts out like that) that Darwin is greater than God.

It's a ridiculous thing to argue, but argue we did. We argued over the wording, we argued over the concepts, we argued semantics, and we argued everything there was to argue until someone said to Team Darwin, "Nothing you say really matters because you're all going to Hell."

How do you argue THAT?

Hilarious.

you may think it's funny, but it's snot

The pressure is on to get my travel plans in gear. The pressure is also on my nose and sinuses. I’ve caught an Irish cold and it is suspiciously familiar to an American cold. I was told numerous times that I would either catch 3 more of these things, or possibly just carry this one around for the next several months. Like a pet. Like a stupid, annoying pet. I’m snot going to talk about it anymore.

Class today was exciting. I’m really happy and scared. It seems like it will be much more interesting subject matter, but it also seems like it will be much harder. I have several books to read, a lot of history to brush up on, and eventually, I will have to write papers in a style I am totally unfamiliar with.

I guess the one thing that doesn’t change is the Capri-sonnes.

my confusion knows no bounds

Today was my second day of classes, er, modules. It began at 9am with a course in Irish Folklore. This is verrrry exciting for me, as I tend to derive great pleasure from mythology, fantasy, and folklore. Call me an escapist, I don’t care. I’ve run off to Ireland, so I won’t argue. I’m also taking a Science Fiction: Literature and Film course, but I swear I’m taking it for purely academic purposes (snigger, snort). Both modules seemed awfully full, but I was assured that none of my courses would close. There are seats for all. Huh? Really? You mean I don’t have to rush to sign up for anything or kill anyone to get a seat in the class? But that makes so much… sense.

I also discovered that Limerick residents don’t actually pay for their university education. Oh, and there aren’t any assignments throughout the semester. Students go to lectures, schedule out ‘tutorial’ times, write a paper at the end of the semester, and take an exam. That’s it.

It’s as if they want students to take responsibility for their education by treating them like adults. There aren’t any tiny hoops to jump through, or any red tape to get tangled up in. We are required to listen, read, and learn, but there aren’t any giant shadows of administration peering over our shoulders to make sure we do it. On the other hand, if I had spent my first few years in this system, I doubt I would have made it very far.

My curiosity has lead me to take courses in computer science, theater, journalism, history, art history, and a slew of disciplines that ultimately directed me to English, Sociology, and Education. I’m glad for the journey, because now there isn’t any doubt in my mind that I’m doing what I really want. I suppose there are pros and cons to both versions, but I can’t help being a little pissed off about the money.

In a country with a long and proud literary history, and a long and frustrating economic track record, I can’t say I’m too surprised. I guess I’m just confused by the boundaries I grew accustomed to back in the U.S.

School: The Final Frontier

I made it to my first class of my last semester. It was a 9am poetry course, focusing on modern poetry (read: after Yeats). It wasn’t what I expected. In fact, it seemed a bit dull. Why on Earth would I come to Ireland, study poetry, and NOT study Yeats? I think I might not take this class (classes are actually referred to as ‘modules’ here). Fortunately, I have 5 other modules to “test drive” before I make up my final schedule. Unfortunately, this was the only one I had scheduled for today. Ah, well.

I spent the rest of the day taking pictures. I’m amazed by the landscape. Not only is the campus itself beautiful, but the area surrounding it is magnificent. Did I mention that the River Shannon runs through campus? Yep. I also signed up for a few field trips to Lahinch and Dublin. These seem like promising adventures.

This evening I went to a Debate Club meeting, which might actually be the perfect club for me. After a few years of Speech Team, I know I can hold my own when it comes to public speaking. I don’t know if I’m actually prepared for this sort of debating style. I do know that I thoroughly enjoyed the company of the UL debate team, and if they are indicative of the how the rest of the students here function, then I think I shall enjoy myself very much.

Tonight’s meeting was actually a workshop on how to debate effectively. It was a much longer meeting than I had anticipated, and I think my appetite might still be a little jet-lagged. I get hungry at 8pm, and again at 2am, so, of course my stomach started rumbling mercilessly throughout the second hour of an intense, invigorating, eye-opening workshop.

“When we make an argument, we need to focus on the main points,” said the workshop leader.

“GRUMBLE, Grumble, grrrrroooooowwwwwl,” replied my stomach.

“I’m sorry, miss. What did you say?”

“Uhhh, I was just wondering how to formulate a, uh, counter-argument, um, for something you weren’t ready for,” I stuttered.

“Oh. Well. I thought you might ask that…”

Lather, rinse, repeat. The debate topic for the evening discussed whether or not insuring people’s welfare is more important than guaranteeing their rights. I had a blast with this topic, although I wasn’t technically a part of the debate team. These people really seem to know their stuff, and moreover, know how to have a good time too. After the workshop, we went to Scholars Pub, across the way from The Stables. Scholars was much more my speed. Less drinking and yelling, more talking and hearing.

I’m excited about this club. One of my favorite quotes is from an old show called “Sports Night.”

“If you’re stupid, surround yourself with smart people, and if you’re smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you.” Debate team, here I come.

convolution of the text

i've been doing homework all day. it's tiring. there is a lot of reading and even more writing. i doubt i can write a post without thinking of how i would write it for any of my classes. hmm.

advanced composition:
i don't want to do any more homework. (active statement)

my homework does not want to be done. (passive statement)

math:
homework = not done = failing grade

literary theory and criticism:
the homework, which must be done, is merely a constructed reality in which the active subject remains in a state of flux, due to their inability to reside happily within that structure. the homework, therefore becomes the active function, forcing that energy onto the (now) passive subject, reversing roles and breaking down the structure. (saussure, derrida, lacan, althusser)

she does not want to do her homework because she wants a penis. her lack of a penis directly relates to her inability to function. her ego is weak, and the Oedipal Complex only applies to her after she has realized that her lack of having is what makes her female. (freud)

journalism:
the student, 27, was unable to do her homework, sunday evening. the outcome of this event remains to be determined.

yep. i have ceased to function outside of the classroom. gah. back to work...

all my little words

I saw "Fake Lake" on Thursday night and it moved me, but not in the way I think it intended to. I watched the actors, some of whom I knew, and some I did not, reenact an episode from the writer's life, at a time when she left Chicago to pursue... well, something else. The story that was told had humorous, dramatic, emotional, and political points to make, but I walked away from the Welles Park Pool (where, yes, it was performed IN the pool) to ponder my own choices.

Could I write a play based on my life, or a particular point in my life? Sure. Would it be any good? Doubtful. I'm not being self-deprecating, just honest. Honestly, I don't have the time to form my experiences into anything coherently meaningful. I'm too busy living out the episodes in my life, and it's non-stop. The most I can muster is a blog or two.

How do these people make the time to write, practice, perform AND work their day jobs? All of my motivation is tied up in school right now, and I know that's part of the problem. I wish I had gone through my higher education in a conventional method. Four years and a mountain of loans. Done. Instead, I squandered my time and effort and still have little to show for it. I just want to be done with school and get ON with my life, before it's all gone.

For the time being, I suppose I will have to content myself with being consistently impressed with the efforts of artists. One day, I hope to join the ranks of the creatively employed.

Good Day Thwarted by CTA

In a hopeful attempt to finish out her 12-hour school day on a high note, Shama Dardai, boards the CTA train at the Kimball stop at approximately 9:30p, expecting to reach her home, in Lincoln Square, by 10p. She reclines in the well-maintained train car with her fellow passengers and pulls out her homework, calmly awaiting the announcement for the southbound train.

20 minutes later, she is still waiting.

Just as she is about to stand up in the indignant, "When is this train gonna move?" manner, the doors shut, and the recorded announcement was heard. She settles back in for a minute, as the train moves along the track at a leisurely, if not slightly slow pace. She reflects on her day, noting with satisfaction that it has been good -- tiring, but good. Then the train stops.

It lurches forward, struggling to reach the next stop, inches away, as a drowning man might stretch for solid land.

10 minutes later...

The passengers have grown weary of the slow train, but Dardai has grown restless. She paces the length of the train car, randomly kicking her backpack every few moments. She sits down again, and waits. And waits. And waits.

5 stops and 45 minutes later, she sits at her computer, cursing the CTA for stealing her time.

I've never let my school interfere with my education.

I'm excited and scared. I'm scared that I will finish up this semester and someone will say, "Good work. But you still have eight more years to go."

My transcripts don't make sense, I have many credits. I only need 6 more classes. Why is my projected graduation date in 2010? Don't they know that's too far ahead? That's the arbitrary futuristic time science fiction stories from the 80's would choose. I'm not graduating in the distant future. I'm graduating in the near future.

School begins tomorrow, but The Future begins now.

My education has been erratic, hopeful, and stunted, but it has been constant. I think about everything I've learned since high school and I truly believe that I haven't actually wasted any time. I know what I know now, and that's more than I knew then. Maybe a degree would have made a career path easier, but I don't think it would have made life easier.

he ruined a state park

my science teacher ruined Starved Rock for me today. i went on a field trip with my earth science class, for extra credit. i was excited about this field trip. i have many fond memories of the majestic cliffs and curious trails, as well as the historical significance of the park. i loved this place, as a kid. i am a kid no more.

he took us down every NOT FUN trail possible. i was fine with the muck and bugs, but when he started down non-trails that were clearly marked, "Restricted," i got pretty upset. i did not sign up to put my life in danger, yet there i was, being put directly in harm's way. i'm so angry and disappointed.

this summer has been chock-full of nature-based trips, and i have enjoyed them all, so far. why was today different? because it was stupid. he ought to know better, as a responsible adult. he ought to know better, as a teacher. he OUGHT TO KNOW BETTER.

i think i'm a pretty tolerant lady, but at the moment, i'm outraged. if i get anything less than a 'B' in this class, i'm gonna take some k-feldspar to his granite skull.

who says i haven't learned something?

things that frighten me.

school is kicking my ass.

i'm so very close to done, and i'm afraid that i won't meet my deadline and all of my carefully-laid plans will collapse in on itself like a cheap folding chair.

my life is not a cheap folding chair.

The Grand Plan

I am going to Ireland, damnit. I am going to do the study abroad program and graduate in europe and stay there for however long it takes to become successful and happy. i am going to DO THIS.

for now, i have a stupid waitressing gig and an earth science class.

the road to success is paved with poop.

Serving and Receiving

This is a PSA. Be nice to your waiter or waitress. Be as nice as you can possibly be. These folks work extremely hard, but aside from that, you don't know what ELSE they do. That's right, folks. Servers are people, too.

From past experience as a long-time waitress and interactions with others, I can safely say that they're typically multi-faceted and multi-talented people, who hold titles like "Mom" or "student" or in the case of my neighborhood diner waitress, "HR Assistant to the State Representative, Greg Harris." She helps with scholarship options available through the 13th District, and boy, oh boy, did she make my day.

I was getting caffeinated at the diner while plodding through my transcripts. As I tried to make sense of my academic history to better plan for my academic future, she came along and asked what I was doing. I told her, and then proceeded to tell her of my worries over paying for summer classes, since my scholarship doesn't cover summer tuition. She wasn't just sympathetic, the way some servers might be, she was HELPFUL.

I'd rather not divulge details, but I will say that she offered me a way to pay for summer classes, and then offered her clout. I was amazed. I've been her 'regular' for more than a few years, and we've always maintained a friendly relationship without actually being friends. I had no idea that she held another job. I had no idea she held another job that could be so... USEFUL.

Well, I have an application to fill out, but I just wanted to tell you, dear Reader, that you should always be nice to your server. For that matter, you should always be nice to PEOPLE. You never know who else they might be.