Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Ulysses Playlist

For Logan


Theme playlists are a fun way to procrastinate, and this one is so good I had to share it. Y'all know Ulysses, AKA. Odysseus, right? He's kind of a big deal, if you don't know about this guy, let this playlist be an introduction to his character then go out and read either The Iliad or The Odyssey. Abridged versions are fine. Or just this one poem. 

Did I miss a good song that should be included to honor the original rambling man? Lemme know in the comments! Eg. there should probably be a Led Zeppelin song on here somewhere. 

Here's the rundown, and where to listen to the whole thing

  1. The Prizefighter and the Heiress, Johnny Flynn
  2. Come With me Now, KONGOS
  3. White Room, Cream
  4. All Along the Watchtower, Jimi Hendrix
  5. Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Lorde
  6. The Railroad, Goodnight Texas
  7. Money, Power, Glory, Lana Del Rey
  8. Bottom of the River, Delta Rae
  9. Walking Far from Home, Iron & Wine
  10. Drop the Game, Flume
  11. Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen


So good a character that loads of people have used him to tell their own stories. So cool that even Marilyn Monroe was a fan. That's right. Get on board. 


Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Elites, Elitism, and Non-Elites

I didn’t know the bogey man of the “Elites” was a thing until I moved to Oklahoma in 2008. Since then, it appears the creature has grown larger with each year and presidential election. It’s one of the hated groups of people to which I belong (it’s a red flag that I managed to not end that sentence clause with a preposition, I admit.). 

Other hated groups which claim me: women, white people, upper middle class, lawyers, blondes, meat-eaters, fur-wearers, city-folk, civil right supporter, nerds.

Before living in Oklahoma, I thought elite people were those who live on the silver serving tray in the sky, and were dicks about displaying that fact. It’s a two part test – 1) be rich, and 2) be a dick. Here’s a Venn Diagram:
 
This assumption held true through my 4 years living and working in West Virginia -- home of the happy coal miners and Senator Byrd, number 1 longest serving Senator and most beloved pork-barreller in US history.  

When I moved to Oklahoma however, I learned that there is a different form of Elite Person. This Elite Person has to be neither rich nor an asshole. Instead, there’s a balancing test to apply against people which must include the factor of “educated” and may include any of the following (not an exhaustive list: being from the East Coast, being from the West Coast, being from New York, not being athletic, being outwardly ambitious, liking vegetables, liking cats, liking dogs smaller than a Labrador, having allergies, not being afraid of doctors, not being afraid of dentists, admitting to having bad eye sight, understanding what taxes are (clarify: this is not being in favor of socialist government programs, but admitting that roads, dams, militaries, and schools are good things for which society to pay), having the wrong religion, having no religion etc.

Each of these factors warrants its own explication, but their true riddle is being able to hold all of them in your head at once. The root, and there’s gotta be a root, is something I cannot comprehend. Truly, of all the symptoms I can list, I’m never going to understand why I’m so perceived as a deplorable person out to ruin the lives of others. So far, my life has been almost exclusively dedicated to bettering the lives of those around me, and I would be able to produce dozens of witnesses and references to this fact.

Perhaps the root is that inability to comprehend why I’m hated. If I don’t get it, I’m not in the clique. Elite Haters are not even in a club – they don’t publicly designate themselves with unifying hoods, jackets, magic underwear, jerseys, hats or any single physical badge of honor proving your non-elitism. There’s a clique here that you can only be a part of if you’re already somehow a part of it.
Everyday I continue to work for the federal government and sacrifice my time to study law, I am further buried in this class of hated people.


I don’t mean to align myself with vulnerable classes of people, like racial minorities or the mentally and physically handicapped. I worry that society just wants to hate things. No conclusion, just a wonder at why, and want to be able to defend myself. I’m not very big. I’m an exactly average height and weight woman. My options for defense against the rest of the world are extreme: 1) advanced weaponry, 2) hire body guards, 3) learn to be Bugs Bunny and talk my way out of everything. I can’t afford the first two, so I work damn hard at the third. 

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Adulting

Kiddo is adulting. This is a funny term I first heard my friend Melissa use at her bachelorette party. It sounds like something Miley Cyrus would sing/rant about.

It's that stage where we've been physically mature adults for over 10 years, but haven't yet done any of the things "adults" do. We have jobs, but they're random and often waged not salaried. We love them, but Bar Tender and Movie Usher just aren't going to get us a 401K -- right? We have lived with ppl romantically, but aint no ring on our fingers. In fact, the Bachelorette Party is a perfect microcosm of the whole stage -- Good dirty fun with the intent of getting to the real (and very legal) deal in just a sec.

Miley Cyrus is still in that 10 year period, convalescing in all her cake having/eating glory. Beyonce is a real adult. She has Adulted.

I have taken a giant step towards being Beyonce: I got married this summer.

It was a whole grand affair with tent and loads of beloveds. I'm slowly working through all the thank you cards now (each will come with some printed photos!). After all this buzz of Wedding, died down, however, I learned the most crucial part: that I am no different than I was this time last year. I'm with the man I love and want to spend my life with.

Weirdly, though, other ppl have started treating me differently. Relations don't act like I'm a hot potato or unstable isotope -- to be warily handled. I always thought of that attitude be directed toward me because I'm super fun, and a bit of a zaney little wild card in comparison to their suburban choices. Now I'm realizing it's because I'm somehow a part of their club.

This disturbs me, and I can't phrase why, but it feels like there is way more cultural miasma wending around here than I'd thought. In this way, adulting is very off-putting. I have figurative vertigo (I have literal vertigo too, but that's for different reasons), and it's marriage's fault.

Next summer will be another Adulting step: sitting for the bar exam. Hopefully that'll bring back some of the wariness since I'll be an all-powerful attorney! ;)