It's been done
That’s my best example of having Things To Say about something, then realizing Things had already been said.

Ha, yep, I remember quite clearly the moment I realized I'd basically reinvented Spinoza...or, that is to say, a fraction of Spinoza. I actually found it kind of neat, though. Annoying, sure, that I was never going to be recognized for my astounding insights, but tickled that I was following the same path as a certified Smart Dude.

It makes you wonder, what’s the point?

What's the point of thinking? Hell, what's the point of doing crossword puzzles?

One thing that always cheers me up is T.S. Eliot. I don’t really know what his poems are supposed to be about, but to me they’re about all this intelligent, meaningful stuff that has come before, overwhelming you until you’re unable to say anything in the present time. To me those poems are about the fear of saying anything, fear of what you say being meaningless. Yet they’re some of the most meaningful poems I’ve read. Here was someone who obviously recognized this profound fear of being pointless, but he said something and made a point.

Yay Eliot. I think there's a danger, when looking at All That Has Come Before, of...not noticing the present. Of looking at centuries of philosophers who have examined the concept of Christian love (for eg., because there was an article about it in the Times this week), and thinking, "Well, gee, nothing more to say about those abstracts," and failing to notice the most exciting question of all, which is, IMO, "How are these abstracts relevant right now? How are they playing out, or failing to, right here?" And that is what's always new. It's what T.S. Eliot discovered. He pinned down his moment. I guess it's also what good preachers do every week, isn't it?

"Noticing the present", i.e. cultural studies, is still the redheaded stepchild in many academic circles. Heh, just as English lit. was a hundred years ago. I've been talking over email with quinara about ways of conceptualizing Greek and Roman Studies. You can talk about studying a literary "tradition", which supposes a hierarchy with Homer et al at the top, or you can talk about "reception studies", which emphasizes responses to and reimaginings of the classics, but which, as a term, is still problematically passive. Quin's interested in looking at possible contemporary equivalents of the epic form — "Where did epic go?" essentially. One of her answers is, "Well, how about serialized television?"

Er. If I had a point when I started, I seem to have lost it. Something about, "When you think you have nothing new to say, just bash open the limits of what's acceptable to talk about"? Or something. *g* /ramble

So on the one hand, I feel intimidated by T. S. Eliot. But then I think about T. S. Eliot on El Jay, looking at Milton macros which say, “I have a Lucifer; your argument is invalid!” And T. S. Eliot sort of shuffles and thinks, “Aw, Milton, my argument totally is invalid! I’ll just erase my post now.”

I ♥ you. You're getting metaquoted.

So, do you feel the intimidation thing?

Augh. I haven't read enough, I have nothing new, I have nothing amazing. I'm (slowly) learning not even to let myself consider whether these are true, but to just yell, "Imposter Syndrome!" and smack it down. I have the luxury of doing that, not being a professional academic shooting for tenure track. If my ideas aren't dazzling, my career isn't hinging on them.

On LJ?

Oh, oh, this ties in with a post on gazes I keep meaning to write. I feel like a few years ago, there was a ton of fannish meta on fanfic and slash and whatnot taking Hollywood's male gaze and chucking it out the window and doing our own gazing. But lately I feel like we're not cowed by Hollywood, but by each other! We're afraid the Acafans (booga booga) are staring at us; we're afraid Metafandom is judging both our meta and our squee, because we're unwittingly redundant, or ignorant, or ass-showing. We're way more conscious of being looked at these days. It's weird. I'm sure it's not universally true; it's not even true for me, much, but I've observed it out and about. Hm. Have you?

In writing?

I barrel on. I post stories I know aren't perfect, I cringe and resign myself to cringing. I keep trying. Most days, I'm here to learn, not here to impress, so it works out.

In real life?

If by real life, you mean career...still workin' on that.

Do you think about someone who inspires you, or does that make it worse? Who/what is it that intimidates you?

Nobody in fandom intimidates me. This is because I've approached all the people who might do so and started conversations with them, and they've all turned out to be variations on bouncy, enthused, generous and adorable. I don't care if I'm not as smart as some of them. That's just reality.

When I'm writing fic, I do think about who I want to be as good as, and which aspects of their talent I can match, and that inspires me.

What do you want to do with your life, anyway?

Fart around, write something neat, and inspire somebody else to write something neat. It's already happened. Next up: write something NEATER!