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Wednesday, 24 June 2009

  • Deconstruction

    It's 1967; cue Jacques Derrida. He writes Of Grammatology, and loosed the tide of Deconstruction on the literary world, showing everyone that in truth, nothing pure exists, and everything contains within itself the means to undo itself. This took the world of literary criticism by storm, becoming the craze very quickly because of its new and innovative look at the texts which everyone had come to know and love. Postmodernism was truly upon us.

    But it's not just the lit geeks who can use Deconstruction. We all use it, every day, in our lives, whether we know it or not. Deconstruction shows us that everything contains within itself the means to undo itself, but there are some things which are easier to deconstruct than others. Inherent contradiction is at the heart of the deconstructive method. Essentially, the idea is that each idea contains its own opposite, if not in a substantial manner, just in a trace, which is "mark of the absence of a presence, an always-already absent present." Essentially, since we think of one side of a pair of opposites being dominant (presence-abscence, love-hate, etc...), they each imply each other when one is mentioned. The above example is essentially saying that if one is to think of an abscence, let's say of a person -- your significant other has gone on a trip to the mountains without any means of communication -- the presence of that person is automatically stirred up within you -- when you lay down to go to bed them not calling you reminds you of when they do call you. A better example, probably more precisely faithful to Derrida's idea, would be your description of their abscence. "As I laid down to go to sleep, I realized that my lover hadn't called, and it made me miss them." You think of their presence, the norm, what exists, and you use it to describe what currently doesn't exist.

    The important part of Deconstruction, at least to everyday life, is avoiding contradiction. You'll never be able to do it entirely. It's not possible, but you can sure as hell try. When you write something, when you speak to anyone, avoid contradiction. Think about what you're saying and try and find flaws in it. If you try and deconstruct your own thoughts, your own writing, it will help you to strengthen your own thoughts. You'll seive out contradictions you wouldn't otherwise find, and as a result you'll be able to think more clearly.

    Deconstruction is a tricky, complex concept, but it's worth the effort to try and learn a bit about it.

Saturday, 20 June 2009

  • Life in T-2 months

    It's a good day. I didn't sleep a lot last night, and I had a terrible day the day before, but in the end it turned out alright. Maybe this is just a temporary let-up from the pains and problems of everyday life, from the worries that plague me about my future, but I'm going to enjoy this day. My girlfriend was nice enough to buy me a breakfast of Subway (odd breakfast, yes) and even though the guy fucked it up, I'm ok with it. It wasn't bad, and I'm enjoying work. I do wish I was getting paid more though, or at least getting some more hours.

     I'm starting to compose a new piece, or set of pieces, rather. It's a suite for Quintet (French Horn, Violin, Viola, Cello, Bass), and I've finished the first movement already. You can listen to it here.  Any comments or suggestions you have are definitely welcome. I'll be adding more movements as time goes by, maybe altering this one, adding things and manipulating chords to fit what I want to hear better. So far though, this movement feels good. It shifts evenly and nicely, and it makes for a good introduction. The end sets up a nice segway into the next movement, which I'm thinking will be a scherzo of sorts.

    Money has been painfully tight lately. I lost 20 dollars yesterday which I'd given to my parents to pay them back for money they loaned Avery (she'd bought me several things and so I decided to just pay them back for her). I was supposed to buy milk with it, but it either fell out of my pocket or someone grabbed it out of the car when I was rehearsing at Northwest. Either way, it was because of my own stupidity that the money went missing, so I went to the bank and got out another 20, bought the milk and gave my parents the change. It's not their job to fund my scatterbrained stupidity. Still, this was an expensive fuck up on my part, especially with the coming expense of paying for Peppie's wedding gift. (As a side note, I'm going to have to get used to calling him that. Odd change.) The man deserves it though, so I'll find a way.

    All in all, it's been a bit of a rough week, but I'll get through it. I don't really have a choice. I'm just tired of letting people down, although other people haven't exactly been fantastic to me this week either. I just hate having to apologize to people all the time. I want to stand on my own, without the help of so many other people, and in most cases I can, but money-wise, things have been unreasonably tight lately. My job search has turned up no fruit, so I think I have to renew the effort with more vigor and compulsion. What's necessary must be done; I'm not going to let so much slide anymore. It's not fair to those around me to expect them to pick up the slack when I fall short.

Thursday, 18 June 2009

  • "It's the end of the world as we know it..."

    The implications of graduation have been weighing on me, like gold creaking through my veins. It should be great -- I'm free, now a college student and the proud owner of a diploma that grants me access to at least a basic, lean life -- but I can't shake the feeling of morbid fear that accompanies the thought of college. I've always been afraid of succombing to schizophrenia, and recently stressors have pushed me into bouts of depersonalization and paranoia; these problems have been nothing compared to what will come with college and being alone. I'm just worried about what will happen to me, worried about whether or not I'll be able to cope. It could be so helpful, it could bring me within a hair's breadth of the artist I want to be, but it could be the end of me.


    It just seems as though I've been slowly becoming more impulsive, more forgetful, more fearful and paranoid and angry. I've been trying to push those sorts of thoughts out of my head but they still flash in and, from time to time, take control, which never turns out well. I yell, I manipulate, I don't sleep. And most of the time I know it's probably nonesense, but I have to make sure. 

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zackpolo

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    • Name: Zack
    • Birthday: 10/9/1991
    • Gender: Male
    • Member Since: 6/18/2009

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  • I'm a musician, a composer, a vocalist, a poet, a dramatist, a writer. I'm an artist; in every breath.

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