I love when the written lyrics for a song include either: "Boom-dee-a-da, Boom-dee-a-da, Boom-dee-a-da, Boom-dee-a-da, Boom-dee-a-da, Boom-dee-a-da, Boom-dee-a-da, Boom-dee-a-da." or "da da da (da da da) da da da (da da da) da da da dum da da dum da da dum da da da da da da da da (da da da) da da da (da da da) da da da dum da da dum da da dum da da". It just. It looks so stupid, and yet.
Also--why are the Boom-dee-a-das capitalized, but da da das aren't? A question to bring up in Intro to Philosophy, no doubt.
And we've had assigned, proper, real math homework for the first time in MONTHS. Sort of. Assigning it over email is still better than no assignment, I guess. At the same time, it's a little late because the wheels of fate and parental intervention have been set in motion.
Apparently, even when white people try and be conscientious about race, they screw it up by focusing on what being white has done to cause racial tension instead of looking at the, and I quote, "critical and very powerful roles people of color play in coaltions and struggles for justice and equality".
Gag me with a spoon. What we're clearly supposed to take away from American Cultural Studies is that if you're white, you're guilty. Of everything. Even when you have good intentions, you will be racist. ALWAYS. And of course this logic is not flawed at all because we are enlightened, politically correct beings who understand that so long as your skin color is darker than that of the average redneck Arkansas hick, you can do no wrong. I'll let you all ponder that for a minute.
I realize that though I love psychology and can't think of another field that is both financially appealing (aka NOT acting, riding, etc.) and something I'd enjoy--I am terrible at comforting people. I never know what to say, and it's always really awkward, and nobody winds up feeling any better. In fact, more often than not it seems the Mope Total goes up instead of down after I try and offer some kind words.
Basically, I'm DOOMED. But I don't have any other choices right now. So I'm doomed.
That is all.
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4 comments:
Oh shush. Comforting people isn't psychology - straigtening them out is psychology. You tell them like it is. That's more helpful than random fluff any day.
Also, I've discussed my retirement plans with Wanda at length and she said to consult you. Can I live in the ranch/farm's attic? Is it okay if I bring my many far-too-young lovers in frequently?
You can definitely live in the attic, but I warn you if you bring in young lovers, and they have British accents, I can't be held accountable for Wado's actions. And the title from the previous post is a reference from Merlin. Basically all I remember in detail from Ender's Game is that his older brother eviscerated a squirrel in the woods and grows up to become Hegemon.
Lollerskate. Yeahhhhhhhh that's pretty much all of Ender's Game right there. And I'm totally fine with Wanda partaking. What could possibly be better than a 3-4-some when you're sixty?
Hey...warning: if they are going to be British, better make sure they're circumcised! Nothing like a foreskin to ruin a perfectly fun accent.
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