Entry tags:
It's been done
About ten years ago, when I was sixteen, I was spending a significant portion every day looking for an objective morality. I didn’t feel I could definitively tell right from wrong. It bothered me, so I thought that I could find a “platform” from which to view the world, I could determine the difference in any situation. I spent a lot of time thinking and writing about it.
Later I found out what philosophy and religion were about.
That’s my best example of having Things To Say about something, then realizing Things had already been said. Finding out you’ve been chipping away at a question that is pretty much the central theme of all abstract thought in the history of the world can be kind of a downer, actually. Gets to be even more of a downer when you realize that people have always been chipping away at all the questions you’ll ever think to ask, and they’ve chipped deeper than you’re going to.
It makes you wonder, what’s the point? Previous great minds have already thought of everything I’m going to say. Furthermore, they have read all that previous to previous great minds have had to say and built their thoughts on those thoughts. I don’t have time, for one thing, to read previous great minds and previous-previous great minds and build my own thoughts on theirs.
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.
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.”
It’s not that I think I decide to keep my post/continue thinking about moral objectivity/not give up writing/always say what I think because I might be the next T. S. Eliot. It’s more like, “Dude, if Eliot felt intimidated, we probably all are.” May as well just suck it up, fuck it, and do this shit. You know?
The ironic thing is a lot of people may feel the intimidation thing, except you wouldn’t know it. If you feel it keenly, then you are aware that others have felt it before you and expressed it better. But if everyone felt that way all the time then T. S. Eliot would never post to El Jay.
So, do you feel the intimidation thing? On LJ? In writing? In real life? How do you get past it? Do you think about someone who inspires you, or does that make it worse? Who/what is it that intimidates you? What do you want to do with your life, anyway?
Later I found out what philosophy and religion were about.
That’s my best example of having Things To Say about something, then realizing Things had already been said. Finding out you’ve been chipping away at a question that is pretty much the central theme of all abstract thought in the history of the world can be kind of a downer, actually. Gets to be even more of a downer when you realize that people have always been chipping away at all the questions you’ll ever think to ask, and they’ve chipped deeper than you’re going to.
It makes you wonder, what’s the point? Previous great minds have already thought of everything I’m going to say. Furthermore, they have read all that previous to previous great minds have had to say and built their thoughts on those thoughts. I don’t have time, for one thing, to read previous great minds and previous-previous great minds and build my own thoughts on theirs.
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.
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.”
It’s not that I think I decide to keep my post/continue thinking about moral objectivity/not give up writing/always say what I think because I might be the next T. S. Eliot. It’s more like, “Dude, if Eliot felt intimidated, we probably all are.” May as well just suck it up, fuck it, and do this shit. You know?
The ironic thing is a lot of people may feel the intimidation thing, except you wouldn’t know it. If you feel it keenly, then you are aware that others have felt it before you and expressed it better. But if everyone felt that way all the time then T. S. Eliot would never post to El Jay.
So, do you feel the intimidation thing? On LJ? In writing? In real life? How do you get past it? Do you think about someone who inspires you, or does that make it worse? Who/what is it that intimidates you? What do you want to do with your life, anyway?

no subject
What's the point of thinking?
Well, yes. That's what I mean. I never get suicidal, but I do get rather depressingly existential.
"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.
Good point.
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?"
Oh, Stulti, my heart. I've been thinking about this a lot recently because of our Outdoor Trek project. my_daroga and I have been trying to draw parallels between Shakespeare and Star Trek. We all accept Shakespeare as part of our cultural history, but Star Trek--though the history is not as long--is just as much a part of our communal consciousness. We recognize it even when we've never seen it, just as we do Shakespeare. Why not approach this newer classic with a similar attitude.
Someone suggested to us that we do a TV night--perform several different shows. Someone else pointed out to me that this was particularly interesting due to the changes TV is undergoing--it's starting to look like it will eventually be obsolete in the face of DVDs and the internet. So why not pull it in the other direction, too? There's so much to be said about where theater and literature have gone within the last century. I love the idea of playing with that.
"When you think you have nothing new to say, just bash open the limits of what's acceptable to talk about"
Or just start talking. Even if it's an idea that's been hashed over before, it hasn't been hashed over with
Have you?
Well . . . I notice less fannish meta etc etc, but I am also around fandom less because I have less time. I have also noticed some fandoms are given to meta, whereas others aren't. BtVS seemed meta heavy, just as it is style heavy, as we have previously discussed. I also notice more fandom flitting, but I'm unable to determine if attitudes have changed, canon has changed, people accessing fandom have changed, or circles I run in have changed. Probably all of the above?
I saw someone on lj who claimed she was not a fan, even though she does a fair amount of fannish things. She said she did not want to be identified as a fan because fans do a lot of stupid things--by this she did not seem to mean fanworks, but the misogyny, racism, and isms in general that she sees go on in fandom. my_daroga and I discussed this and found it very interesting, because although a lot of that does go on in fandom, both of us feel you are more likely to get called on being on an "ism" in fandom than in any other community of which we've been a part. There's constant debate about it, a lot of it ugly, but that debate is going on in fandom. You don't see Elizabeth Bear, et al being called out by contemporary fantasy writers; you see her getting called out in fandom. Etc.
I think this is a great thing (as ugly as it can sometimes be), and it makes me proud to be a part of fandom. I'd prefer to get called out than hurt people and never address it; I'd prefer for massive horrible things to happen out in the open than for there to be silence. But despite my own feeling on this, I would not be surprised if the horrible things that have happened contribute to a culture of silence--which is of course the opposite of what we want; it's the reason people get called out; it's the reason racefail became so huge. We do not want silence. We're not going to be silent any more, that's the whole point.
Anyway, I know that's not necessarily what you were talking about, but I do think speaking out in some respects has made others shut up--even about things they don't see as directly related to an ism. This is the fault of those who are shutting up; it's not the right way to deal with stuff. But I think it's happened.
Most days, I'm here to learn, not here to impress, so it works out.
I don't think that will ever be my natural state. I try really hard to be open and just to learn, to listen and to revel in other people's genius, but my default state is always wanting to show off. Intellectually, I always choose to learn over to impress, but emotionally, I'm more pleased when I can impress. I don't know how to turn that instinct off, though I try.
Wow, that's a lot of insecurity. The weird thing about me and self esteem is that I think I am clever. I'm just convinced no one else will ever find out that I am clever if they are speaking to me face to face.
If by real life, you mean career...still workin' on that.
No, actually! I mean just in general, conversationally. This was one reason I had trouble in college. I wanted to join in intellectual conversations, but I'm pretty inept orally.
Next up: write something NEATER!
Awesome!