A Seminar For Teaching Assistants...

Hahahaha. I just received an e-mail from the University of MN Center for Teaching and Learning (because I'm a TA), advertising its upcoming seminars.

I'm sure all of you armed with degrees from big schools remember constantly complaining about not being able to understand your math professors. Well, it looks like someone finally listened.

An upcoming teaching seminar for University teachers (as copied from my e-mail):

Fine Tune Your Accent

Mondays, 1-2 p.m.
In this workshop series, international faculty, scholars, and graduate students will uncover the nuances of English pronunciation that matter most for conveying meaning effectively in U.S. academic settings: fluency, emphasis, and tone of voice. Participants will learn and practice research-based speaking strategies to enhance classroom teaching and conference presentations.

* Oct. 26 - Fluency
* Nov. 23 - Emphasis

* Dec. 21 - Tone of Voice

Hahaha, oh this is so funny to me for some reason. I wish my math teacher would have taken this. Maybe then I would have actually understood college algebra. Actually, I highly doubt it.

We Got Money. A lot.

So I'm taking this class entitled World Development Problems on Wednesday nights, and on Monday afternoons I'm taking Human Rights Advocacy. Between the two courses, the incredible privilege I live in has really been brought to my attention. I know we've all heard it before, but just sit down and really think about it for a second. I don't care how broke you are right now --- if you're reading this post you are most likely in the top 1/5 richest people in the world. You are wealthy.

I was reading this chart today in my world development class. The chart was on the living styles of the world's three major classes: overclass, middle class, and underclass. Right away, my assumption was, "oh, I'm definitely middle class." Then, I read the descriptions. I've copied them below for your reading pleasure, they are circa 1992:

Global Class: Overclass
Category of consumption overconsumers (1.1 bil)
Income per capita over USD$7,500
Diet meats/packaged foods
Calories consumed too many
Transport private cars
Materials throwaways
Shelter spacious/climatized
Clothing image conscious

Middle:
Category of consumption: moderates (3.3b)
Income per capita: $700-7500
Diet: grain, clean water
Calories consumed: about right
Transport: bicycles/public tranport
Materials: durables
Shelter: modest/ext. family
Clothing: functional

Category of consumption Marginals (1.1)
Income per capita: less than $700
Diet: insufficient grain/ unsafe water
Calories consumed: too few
Transport: foot/donkeys
Materials: local biomass
Shelter: rudimentary
Clothing: secondhand/scraps

So according to this chart, I am swimming in it. You are too. It's just strange, because we are all surrounded by those who have just as much -- so we never think we're rich. We think other people are rich. People with Mercedes and huge homes. We complain about being broke and poor.

Broke and poor? Please. If I'm hungry with no money... well wait, that's never happened to me. It probably never will happen to me. I have my own car, my own room. That's apparently more than four billion + people have on this earth. That's crazy. We are privileged beyond belief. To say that we are broke is an affront to the people who actually are broke. Instead of not being able to buy those Seven jeans, they can't buy their dinner.

Sorry, I don't mean to get all preachy here. I'm just awed by this myself as it all starts to sink in. I'm not sure what to do about it, except for try to give where needed--- to the extent that I'm able. As Spiderman discovers time and time again...with great power comes great responsiblity. I'd like to say that I will be responsible with the privilege I have, by somehow making a dent in the seemingly undentable scales of global inequality. Perhaps I will begin...by curing AIDS. Jk. I'll let you know my mode of operation for using my responsibility as soon as I figure it out.

Here's to Good Friends Who Get You Through Catatonic States

I am lucky to have a really great roommate to get me through/put up with me in this brief dysfunctional time of my life. Living with me at the moment, is probably comparable to being a caregiver at one of those group homes. I am super out of it and unusually emotional. This may or may not be due to the impossible amount of work that must get done by the end of this week. I am going to go with it may.

So, my roommate Amy has done a really good job taking care of me and making sure I don’t you know, drop a few developmental levels. During the past few days, I've either neglected the arduous task of eating, or have subsisted on the animal crackers currently next to me in a bucket on the floor. Last night, I had what one could call a slight emotional breakdown—catalyzed by the 9:00 hour approaching on the clock of doom, and the realization I was nowhere near done with my paper. It would be another all-nighter. And after that, I would still have two more papers to go. The tears began to flow.

Feeling bad for me in such a helpless state, and knowing I would probably not think of eating, Amy made me breakfast the next morning. Yeah! I actually didn’t eat it until 4:00 p.m. today because I was busy (yes after it’d been sitting out all day), but it served the purpose of dinner. Right now, I am so annoyed with hunger. I don’t have time or money to eat. It really bothers me that we are physically required to eat. It is a pain in the you-know-what to have to eat during times like these.

Anyway, back to my roommate. So then, after providing me with sustenance, and knowing I would most likely be finishing my paper up until the last second like usual, she offered to drive me to school. Every minute counts my friends, every minute counts. It was awesome. I think I got like, five more accurate footnotes in because of the ride. As I was leaving, she also saved me from going catatonic in frustration of my ever-elusive keys. I could not find them. Again. I shouted out the window, "I can't find my stupid keys." She's like,“there in the bathroom.” I went into the bathroom, and what do you know, there they were. Peacefully lying on the counter after I had violently trashed my room in a desperate attempt to uncover them. I think the ability to know where your keys are is a spiritual gift. That would be a great spiritual gift to have. Even better than um, prophesying.

So anyway, props to Amy for keeping me alive during the volatile life stage I am currently undergoing. Hopefully, it will be over by Friday. So it’s like 5:50, and I still haven’t slept a wink since I awoke Sunday at 11:30 p.m. No time. I kind of want to make it rain one giant snowstorm with all my stupid homework and readings I have to do right now. Plus, I think I am seriously coming down with carpel tunnel from typing in an extremely ergonomically incorrect position for about…. hmmm…. 18 hours straight. Not even kidding. Bllaahhhh. Oh well, I guess I'll raise my Diet Coke to another 24 hours of carpel tunnel, exhaustion and avoidant behaviors. It's the little things that make life worth living:).

Three Weeks

Note to my faithful blog followers: There will most likely be a lack of posts for the next three weeks. I will be in survival mode as I desperately try to compile three research papers before the end of the semester. Don't worry however - this summer, I have absolutely nothing to do - so expect a flurry of blog posts.

Ok that is all for now. Back to coding CNN articles.

Liberian Prez Part II

OK I was reprimanded for abruptly halting my last post – so let me continue on....

Back to the Liberian President. As I mentioned, she was recently elected after Liberia emerged from a 14-year civil war. As one may expect, Liberia’s war was pretty intense. Upon its demise, the war left a seriously corrupt government and pervasive poverty in its wake. Liberia was in rough shape.

In 2005, the country held its first democratic election – part of its attempt to pick itself up and start over. Johnson-Sirleif was elected, and since then, Liberia’s economic and social situation has dramatically improved. Its paid more than half its national debt, has increased its government revenue by more than $280 million dollars (enabling a pay raise for federal workers), installed three new community colleges outside of its capital, implemented a scholarship program for young girls (of which 3,000 have received scholarships to attend school already), and set an unprecedented standard for freedom of the press in Africa. Additionally, Transparency International recently recognized Liberia’s significant progress in in fighting corruption within its government. Obviously, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and there is still a long way to go, but as the Dean of Minnesota’s Humphrey Insitute of Public Affairs stated, Liberia’s progress is considered “miraculous.”

When President Johnson-Sirlief was introduced, her introducer (I think I just made that word up) gave a rundown of her experience. Her resume is quite impressive, and includes stints such as Minister of Finance for Liberia, Vice President of the Africa Regional Office of Citibank, Director of UN Development Programme Regional Bureau for Africa and of course, President of Liberia. Undoubtedly, President Johnson-Sirleif’s experience has contributed to her ability to give her country hope. This makes sense. Consequently, this leads me to conclude that all high-ranking government leaders should have the kind of leadership and international experience Sirleif-Johnson had when she took office. I mean, I know I’m drawing assumptive conclusions – but look at Democratic Republic of Congo. The country’s in bad shape due to an overwhelming amount of oppressive historical factors. However, I wonder if the DRC would be in better shape if its president, Joseph Kabila, had more education than a supposed degree from some mysterious online university, and more leadership experience than simply being the son of a former president.

Ahhh… anyway, those are my long-winded thoughts on Friday’s event. It is really encouraging to see that things can change – esp. in a continent way too many think is beyond hope (it’s not!). This means that it’s possible my intelligence-level will change (for the better) tomorrow and I’ll be able to successfully finish this semester. Yeah! I love change. Yes we can.

Liberian President Comes to Town

Friday, I found myself embedded in a crowd of about 3,000 people, listening to the majority robustly sing the Liberian national anthem. For a moment, I had one of those “how did I get here” moments – I can’t say I experience the Liberian national anthem everyday.

The moment’s foreignness dissolved as I gazed upon the familiar stage of Northrup Auditorium - a reminder I was close to home. It was the woman I was there to see, however, who had traveled far from home to speak that day. Ellen Johnson Surleif is the president of Liberia – a small African country of about 3.5 million that has just emerged from 14 years of civil war.

Undoubtedly, the 25,000 Liberian refugees currently living here inspired her visit to Minneapolis. Liberian refugees arrived in Minnesota beginning in the 80s, when civil war erupted in their country. Currently, controversy is boiling among the Liberian community for since the civil war has ended, they are facing deportation back to Liberia, despite the fact that many have built there lives here for the past 20-something years.

Ok this post to be continued as I have to finish something else at the moment. Check back later...

The Economics of English

English is a really random language. I mean, as native speaker, I rarely think of its nonsensical nuances. Throughout these past few months however, friends who aren’t native speakers and my brutal battles with Arabic have brought English’s laundry list of haphazard discrepancies to my attention.

For example, think of the sound “ough,” which is embedded within a variety of words. The “ough” completes words such as “rough,” “cough,” “dough,” and “through.” Yes, the endings of each of these words look exactly the same. So why, on earth, is the “ough” in each word symbolize completely different pronunciations?? The words don’t sound the same!! It’s weird, and took me 24 years to notice!

I believe I’ve found the answer, thanks to a brilliant book called “Imagined Communities,” by Benedict Anderson. So apparently back in medieval Europe there wasn’t the standard German and French and English that we know today. Rather, Europe’s communities all spoke different dialects of each of these languages – dialects so different inter-village communication was severely limited. It was not until the invention of the printing press that these dialects began to standardize. Though the printing press played a huge role in this standardization, its actually captilalism we have to thank for establishing the English, German and French we know today.

You see when the printing press gained steam in Europe, the capitalists minds began to brew. They quickly realized that to maximize profits through the press, they had to maximize its reach. Consequently, printers began piecing together all the different dialects of English (or French, etc…) and compiling them into one standard language that everyone in the region could somewhat understand. And wahla! Standard English was born. Obviously, the printing press and capitalism combined went on to stimulate revolutions in Europe, leading to the rise of democracy in the West.

It’s interesting the impact capitalism had on change. Moveable type was actually first invented in China – as much as 500 years prior to its invention in Europe. Most people, however don’t realize this, as the invention had little impact on Chinese society. Why is this? Take a wild guess. Yep, the absence of capitalism, apparently, it proved rather vital to stimulating social change.

Anyway, I’m not trying to promote any agenda here – I just thought this information was quite interesting. Personally, I am just glad that Arabic is not made up of a bunch of random sounds. It’s hard enough to learn even with its phonetic logic. So to anyone learning English as a second language – props to you – the language doesn’t really make a lot of sense.

Not One of Life's Little Joys

Writing a fellowship applications and/or statement of intent is not one of life’s little joys. In fact, it is quite possibly one of life’s little terrors. I simply detest, yes I said detest, writing these things. It is hard. It requires the ability to articulate clearly my goals – professionally and academically. I do not have this ability. So far, I can only see like…five days into the future. So the rest, I have to make up based upon vague understandings of my dreams.

This takes a lot of mental energy, articulating vague, made-up intents. That is why I have been putting this off for weeks. I wrote some half-hearted paragraphs this weekend. As I look at it now however, half-hearted doesn’t look to good on paper. So I have been sitting here for like four hours now, trying to write and organize this thing and it’s far from done. Bleh.

Good thing my roommates came home and equipped me with brownies and white wine left over from the dinner they went to – yes, the one I missed because of this application. The brownies, white wine, my trusty Mac and Paramore are keeping me company and giving me the necessary stamina to persevere in this situation.

Looking on the bright, blue, sunny side however, perhaps I will finish this within the next few hours, turn it in and wow the application committee. If that happens, then all this pain would have been ultimately worthwhile. This dream has no chance transforming into reality while I am writing this nonsense though.

So on that note, back to work.

Garbage is Magic

Once, when I was little, I saw David Copperfield make an entire train disappear on T.V. He didn't even use any fancy digital tricks. It was pretty crazy.

Like the disappearing train, the disposal of garbage has always seemed like magic to me. I mean, I throw away an endless stream of napkins and broken stuff, put it at the end of the driveway on Thursdays and.... kazaam! It disappears that day. Gone, into the magic land of Puff the Dragon. I mean, yeah, I heard about areas like landfills and whatever in elementary school - but who has actually ever seen a landfill?? That's what I thought.

In my ripe old age of 25, rational has begun challenging my belief in "magic," and the land of Puff the Dragon. So I decided to look up what exactly, happens to my garbage. Thanks to the City of Minneapolis website, I learned that our garbage doesn't actually go into a landfill. Apparently Hennepin County garbage goes to the Hennepin Energy Resource Facility. Description as follows:

Located in downtown Minneapolis, the HERC facility uses mass burn technology to convert 365,000 tons of garbage a year into electricity that is sold to Xcel Energy, Inc.

Hmmm... interesting. Magic is real after all!!! Well, besides the toxic gases released by this burning. Perhaps the repercussions are more positive than those of a landfill however. Plus, Minneapolis does not have a cloud of fog that continues to linger over the city like Phoenix. Yuck.

You know what's definitely not magic though, electronics recycling. Most of the electronic waste we "recycle" magically disappears from the U.S. and magically reappears in a mysterious land called "Asia." There, poor citizens make a living off of the valuable parts of the waste, and the rest... ends up seriously polluting the land and sickening the people. More good news on Wired Magazine's blog.

Ok, well that is enough on the magic of garbage for now. There are many other magic things in our world that I will discuss at a later time. Perhaps the most magical among this list is the Internet. Oh oh that's magic.

Quote of the Week

My professor (a middle-aged, really smart Asian man), after telling us to look at Second Life because of it's relevance to our class topic:

"When you go on Second Life though, you have to watch out for naked people. Last time I was showing students Second Life and naked people just popped onto the screen from nowhere."

That is like, the best thing I have learned in any class all semester! Ha ha. I will definitely keep my eye open for naked avatars on Second Life:). Beware.

Undergrad Dreams of Baby. Now.

Recently, I overheard this undergrad venting about how much she "just feels like she wants a baby, like now!"

I am not sure of the prior context to this comment, but the conversation continued by her saying that a journalism career wouldn't allow her to have a family for at least ten years after college, since it takes that long for you to establish yourself.... and, what age do you graduate college at?

(Insert five second break to mathematically figure it out)

Ouch. The answer is 22. That means you won't be ready for a child until age 32!! Quick! Switch majors while your future child still has the potential to be born without a fifty percent increased chance of having down syndrome!

Then, the guy next to her chimes in that 25 is a good age to get married.

I agree. Not a bad age.

Oh college.... a time when I thought I could actually plan out my life. Personal life included.

They have so much to learn...

Choking, Dying, or Speaking Arabic? With Me, It's Hard to Tell

Arabic. Is. Hard. I can’t even pronounce half the flippin’ letters. To make matters worse, seriously THREE-FOURTHS of the students in my Arabic class already know Arabic. I'm not kidding. What is this about?! This is beginning Arabic people!

I guess, what this is "about," is that there are many Somali students in class who have been reciting the Koran in Arabic since childhood. The only reason they signed up for the class is because they wanted to learn Modern Standard Arabic, rather than the Arabic dialect they have been taught. Plus, I am guessing most of them want to learn Arabic's use in everyday life, rather than simply for purposes of reading the Koran. Some do not know Arabic that well, but speak Somali. This does not matter. For, even if they only speak Somali, they still have a major advantage over me. The Somali language is made up of the same alphabet and consequently the same sounds. So, they at least sound good when trying to de-codify the language.

I sound like I’m choking when I try to pronounce some letters in the “Alif Ba” (translation: Arabic alphabet). Either choking or dying. Take your pick.

On the plus side, the knowledge of my classmates kind of provides me with, well, 10 personal tutors. The guy who sits next to me apparently grew up in Dubai. He tells me what every single word means. And how to pronounce it. Another student who often sits next to me offered pronunciation advice and encouragement today. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It takes practice. You can read the language, that’s a great start.” Ha. Ha.

Proof that I am not joking can be derived from the words of a fellow American classmate. As class ended yesterday - a class where I had thoroughly massacred the pronunciation of a well-intentioned sentence - a girl turned around and tried euphemistically to ask if I would like help. “You know,” she said, “if you ever want to like meet after class, or…” She was stumbling a bit with her words so I stepped in. “You mean, if I ever need help,” I said, and laughed. She smiled and was like, "Yeah with pronunciation or anything – it can be really hard. We sometimes meet after class."

Oh man. You know you need help when the American offers to help you☺. No, she was really nice. I just thought it was funny. In my other class, my lack of ability was not so obvious. Perhaps because there were more people who didn’t speak Arabic, AS NATURAL FOR A BEGINNING ARABIC CLASS. Hmph. Oh well. I guess, I will try to use it to my benefit. N’Shallah! (It means God willing. I know, I know, I am so good.)

Whew. That Was One Wild Party.

Whooaaa. I feel as if I have a hangover. I just finished the wild party that was my first semester of grad school. In its aftermath, I seem to be suffering from symptoms similar to that of a hangover - or post traumatic stress syndrome.

Let me elaborate. Last night I was exhausted. For three hours, I refused to leave my "homework chair;" staring at my computer and the walls of my room in shock that I had no documents to edit. Some may call this hysteria. I am not one for drama, so I prefer to call it post-traumatic stress syndrome.

When I finally shook myself out of this trance, I made it to my bed. Again, I was exhausted as I had stayed up until 4:30 a.m. the previous night finishing up papers, woke up at 9:00 a.m. and literally worked non-stop until 6:00 p.m. in attempts to meet final deadlines. I even ate a Snickers bar for lunch. This is a symptom of desperation. I do not believe I have consumed a Snickers bar since age 12 - as this is the appropriate age to quit eating crap. Unless of course, you are a male.

Anyway, this was around 11:00 p.m. and despite my exhaustion, I did not want to sleep. I felt the need to stay up "partying" (a.k.a. reading a novel) until 2:00 a.m. - simply because I could.

As a result, today I awoke at 12:45 p.m. This is ridiculous and like I said, very symptomatic of a hangover. Though it is 2:45 p.m. and I am back in my homework chair, I feel as though I may be slowly recovering, but we shall see. This semester was one long, wild "party," so it may take awhile. In case you doubt the party's wildness, take a peak at how it has left my room. I do not believe I have ever seen it in such a state:

Indeed. Recovery may take awhile. However, I know it it possible. For as Confuscious once said, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." I will take my first step by cleaning my room. Wish me luck. I need to fully recover by mid-January, when the party starts up again.

I Love Being Up at 5:30 a.m.

Before you roll your eyes, because you are "up everyday at 5:30 a.m. lazy;" let me explain the difference between getting up at 5:30 a.m. and being up at 5:30 a.m. Getting up implies that you have slept until 5:30 a.m., while being up carries no implication of the obtainment of prior

I have been writing this stupid lit review since 6:00 p.m. yesterday. I no longer care about issues surrounding the (RED) campaign. My compassion is fatigued, just like the "compassion fatigue" the uptight critics constantly complain about in their anal articles. Something is always wrong with the world, blah blah blah.

I feel fairly okay all things considered. Maybe because I consumed an entire pot of coffee. Maybe it's Lady Gaga's energizing rhythms. Maybe it's the speed. (KIDDING).

Anyway, despite my 12 hours at this computer I am not finished yet. I need to take a course in time management bad (or is it badly? I don't know, I don't care).

Three hours until class. I will get this thing done. Dangit.

What is Currently Taking Over My Life: (RED)

In case anyone is for some reason interested in what has been the bane of my existence lately. I've decided to post one of my "project" proposals for grad school. I am working on studying the empathetic impact of Bono's (RED) Campaign. Thoughts welcomed. Although, they may be ignored for the sake of efficiency. Jk.

Ah. My head hurts from lack of caffeine this morning. Time to consume mass amounts of coffee. See below for My (RED) Idea.

The (RED) Campaign: What Image of Africa is it Constructing? How is this Image Contributing to Western Consumers’ Emotional Proximity to Africans?

Launched in 2006, Product (RED) is the brainchild of U2 front man Bono and its current president Bobby Shriver. Shriver and Bono created the brand as a way to raise money to fight AIDS, malaria and tuberculosis in Africa.

According to its website, “(RED) is an ingenious idea that unites our incredible collective power as consumers with our innate urge to help others. (RED) is where virtue meets desire” (www.joinred.com). (RED) partners with a variety of established brands to produce (RED)-branded products, such as Gap (RED) clothing, Apple’s (RED) iPod Nano and the (RED) American Express card. When consumers purchase a (RED)- branded product, the company behind the product donates a portion of the proceeds to The Global Fund. The Global Fund funnels all (RED) funds into programs working to fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and malaria in Africa.

Like all successful brands, Product (RED) has created a distinct image for itself. Sensitive to the theory of “compassion fatigue,” Bono and his team developed a branding strategy for the (RED) campaign that rejected the use emotional images of suffering, starving Africans in exchange for images that portrayed a “sexy” Africa. “Africa is sexy and people need to know that," The New York Times quotes Bono as saying. "We've got to get better at telling the success stories of Africa in addition to the horror stories” (Brenjo, 2007). Product (RED) is therefore marketed with sleek, sophisticated designs, popular brands and beautiful, Western celebrities. Product (RED) focuses on “cool, sexy branding rather than on poverty, inequality and disease” (Richey, Ponte, 2007).

Despite its seemingly well intentions, Product (RED) has received a several criticisms, including criticisms surrounding the message and image of its campaign. Product (RED) has been accused of promoting status under the guise of compassion. Fears about the brand’s transparency have also been expressed. Critics point to the low transparency surrounding the actual creators and benefactors of the product, and that this “compassionate consumption” will redirect “attention from the causes of poverty, such as the inequities of systems of production and trade, by focusing on one of the outcomes, HIV/AIDS” (Richey, Ponte, 2007). Since Africans – and African celebrities – are virtually absent from all (RED) campaign images, some say (RED) is further “otherizing” Africans in the eyes of Western consumers. (RED) and similar campaigns are overrunning Western society with discourse and images of Africa. However, the African “people themselves are not allowed any meaningful space or voice” (Magubane, 2007). Consequently, (RED)’s “hard commerce sex appeal approach may engage individuals from previously untapped constituencies to finance The Global Fund’s work against HIV/AIDS, but, in doing so, it will perpetuate the disengagement of ‘needy’ recipients for us to become benefactors with bling” (Richey, Ponte, 2007).

In light of both criticisms and praise, I would like to study the influence of the (RED) campaign on the construction of empathy and emotional proximity in the minds of Western consumers. I believe that the (RED) campaign has succeeded in making generous contributions with innovative ideas. However, I believe it is important for campaigns to connect people as well as promote monetary flow, and would like to explore (RED)'s impact on empathy in efforts to discover ways in which money and lives can best be connected across the globe.

The Etymology of Ecstasy

Lately, I have been diving into this Paul Coehlo novel at night. I have found that novels help me forget about all the homework I didn't do and consequently actually sleep. The other night, Paul Coehlo presented the most interesting insight, and I had to share. So enjoy.

In the book, which is called "The Witch of Portobello" (I definitely wouldn't say it's one of hist best, but it does the trick), he mentions that the word "ecstasy" derived from a Greek word "ekstasis," which means "to stand outside oneself."

Now, the reason I found this interesting is because - and I think this is safe to say - that our culture has associated the word almost strictly with pleasure - and mainly sexual pleasure.

For ecstasy to derive from ekstasis, it makes sense that ekstasis, or "standing outside oneself" was at some point, associated with being pleasurable, right? So the Greeks understood that it was by transcending yourself, your worries, your needs, etc... that a person ultimately found ecstasy. While at times, I supposed this could be obtained through sex, it seems that we are seriously limiting the experience of ecstasy by strictly associating it with sex. If the Greeks knew what they were talking about, this means ecstasy can also be obtained (yeah, yeah, in a different way of course) by serving others, sacrificing, worshiping or anything else that focuses our minds on something greater than ourselves.

Hmmm...this reminds me of something my good friend C.S. Lewis said back in 1950 or 60-something. Let me quote:

"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." - Clive Staples L.

Good quote C.S., like always. I wish I had some insightful line to end with, but it is 1:00 a.m. and I've spent the whole night researching. My "insightfulness" tank is near empty. Surprising, I know. Less surprising, those last three sentences made no sense. Keep thinking about ecstasy and Lewis, and ignore the rest.

Women's Purpose: To Look Good for Men

I have to relay this comment an anonymous student in an anonymous university class made the other day. It was not a student in my class, I promise. Rather, this comment was relayed to me by an anonymous graduate student. Keep reading if you haven't had your fill of the word "anonymous" yet. Kidding.

In an undergraduate class last Thursday, the professor was discussing the objectification of females in the media, or just how women are portrayed in the media, etc... Anyway so I'm a little vague on the details, but eventually the class dove into a discussion on feminism. You know your typical university discourse - college students with a lot of ideas and no experience. Even still, I was surprised by a comment one student made. Apparently, in the midst of the discussion, a girl raised her hand, and the professor called on her. This is what she said. With a straight face.

"Personally, I think that women's purpose is just to look good for men and help them."

What? Who thinks that in 2008? No, let me clarify; what woman thinks that EVER?

The graduate student who told me this story was obviously appalled. I am really curious as to what has gone on in this student's life that has made her believe she is simply on earth to "look good for men." I kind of feel bad for her. Maybe she just said this to get attention. Why would you go to college if that is your only purpose? I mean, if you're going to college to get a husband, let me tell you from experience, college does not always spit you out with a ring on your finger.

So weird. Who knows. Time for me to pursue more productive activities than blogging.