Saturday, April 26, 2008

(At Least) 29,220 Days Left...

I'm back on the blog train. Spring Term 'round these parts has made a loafer of me, and I've started slacking off a bit on the Musings front (which may be of relief to some; who knows). Anyway, I was hitting my daily rota of interesting websites when I spotted a ridiculous headline on Digg about some Belgian woman who is offering to "harvest the virginity" of any guy who supports "net neutrality." One of the comments pointed to this woman's blog: http://tania.movielol.org/. The silliness of the subject turned to serious morbidity when I noticed that the point of her blog is to chronicle the 90 days before she plans to kill herself.

The subject of suicide and life's intrinsic value (and this woman's distressing failure to acknowledge it) is discussed ad nauseam, so I don't feel the need to go into detail on it.

I hope the entire blog is a hoax or a publicity stunt (LATER EDIT: I know it isn't serious; I did more investigating, but whatever). If so, then it's a sick one, but at least this woman won't be pointlessly killing herself. But if it's true, I'm really appalled at the fact that none of her readers has stepped in and tried to alert her family of this (since her first and last names are known).

This afternoon's lyrical selection (it's possible that I've put it up before): "When I'm Gone," by Phil Ochs (who committed suicide himself 32 years ago this month)--

"There's no place in this world where I'll belong when I'm gone
And I won't know the right from the wrong when I'm gone
And you won't find me singin' on this song when I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here

And I won't feel the flowing of the time when I'm gone
All the pleasures of love will not be mine when I'm gone
My pen won't pour a lyric line when I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here

And I won't breathe the bracing air when I'm gone
And I can't even worry 'bout my cares when I'm gone
Won't be asked to do my share when I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here

And I won't be running from the rain when I'm gone
And I can't even suffer from the pain when I'm gone
Can't say who's to praise and who's to blame when I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here

Won't see the golden of the sun when I'm gone
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I'm gone
Can't be singing louder than the guns when I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here

All my days won't be dances of delight when I'm gone
And the sands will be shifting from my sight when I'm gone
Can't add my name into the fight while I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here

And I won't be laughing at the lies when I'm gone
And I can't question how or when or why when I'm gone
Can't live proud enough to die when I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here

There's no place in this world where I'll belong when I'm gone
And I won't know the right from the wrong when I'm gone
And you won't find me singin' on this song when I'm gone
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here."

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Integrity

Exam week is finally over here at W&L, and today I encountered an interesting pair of parallel situations on which I'd like to comment briefly. It's a subject that is discussed ad nauseam, but I've not yet deigned to opine on it.

I took my third of three final exams this afternoon. Because of a bit of fine motor skill trouble, I am able to type tests and exams up on my computer. So, I took advantage of that accommodation today.

For those readers who don't attend college with me, W&L is governed not by an Honor Code, but the Honor System. Students are expected to be honest and honorable at every turn. Tests and exams, therefore, are unproctored.

I selected a classroom with a large, rectangular table to be where I would take this exam. A couple others followed suit a few minutes later. I opened a new Word document on my computer, set things up, and did my exam. No notes, no textbook, just my brain. Of course, all it would have taken were a couple double-clicks and I could have pulled up a Word document from a folder on my desktop containing a lot of information that would have aided me on my exam. Since no one could see my computer screen, no one would have been any the wiser if I had decided to cheat in that manner. But I know better, as do my fellow students. It's a good feeling to know that I am deemed fit to be accountable for my own decisions by my school.

Later on, I was watching coverage of the second round of the 2008 Masters, one of the most prestigious, pressure-filled tournaments in all of competitive golf. On the 15th hole of the tournament, 2007 U.S. Amateur runner-up and University of Alabama senior Michael Thompson readied to hit a birdie putt. He took his stance, but then he backed away, for no apparent reason. He had set the head of his putter down behind the ball and just before he began his stroke, the ball moved. It moved about an eighth of an inch forward: so little that the only person who could detect its movement was Thompson (neither his playing partners nor the hundreds in the gallery looking on noticed this, and it was only detectable via a highly zoomed-in camera replay). He backed away from his ball and informed his playing partners that he was penalizing himself one stroke and moving the ball back to its previous position.

In golf, if a ball moves after a player has set the club down behind it, the player is deemed to have caused the movement and is penalized a stroke. Thompson could have ignored the movement and the penalty and no one would have been any the wiser, most likely. But he did the honorable thing instead. That's why I love the game of golf.

Good night.

Friday, April 04, 2008

(Dis)Loyalties?

Last time I posted, I led off the entry by alluding to that on which I will now opine.

I'm just going to come right out and say it: people who wear apparel of schools (colleges, mostly) that they do not attend tick me off. The only exceptions are the following.

1. If a parent attended said institution.
2. If a sibling attended or attends said institution.
3 (and even this is a bit of a stretch). If a significant other attends or attended said institution.
4. If you are an ardent fan of one or more of said institution's sports teams. And in that case, the garment must specify the sport.

If you don't qualify any of the above conditions, please don't wear other colleges' garments.

I'll start in high school. As many of you know, I went to a boarding school of whose aura and tradition I am fiercely proud--Westminster School in Simsbury, CT. There was a girl who transferred to Westminster from a decidedly inferior institution, Taft School (I am only half serious about this; we are rivals). She was a nice girl, but it always peeved me to see her wearing Taft clothing around campus. It just didn't seem right. Likewise, there was a girl who aimed to transfer from Westminster to another decidedly inferior institution, Hotchkiss (again, I say this tongue-in-cheek; Hotchkiss grads are people too, I guess). Well before she was even accepted to Hotchkiss, she began sporting the garb around campus. The sight of this really infuriated me. Just a slap in the face. Call me a homer, but I think that just ain't right, dear readers.

Another thing that peeved me a bit was people wearing college apparel before even receiving a letter of acceptance. Talk about putting the UHAUL before the family car, not to mention the arrogant temptation of karma. For this reason, I never wore the apparel of a college to which I had merely applied. I signified my intention to come here to Washington & Lee by donning the hat in the kitchen one late-April morning before school. I had never graced my head with it before then.

We progress to college. I don't claim to know the background on many people well enough to know if they fall into categories 1-4 above stipulated. All I can say is that I've seen sweatshirts (I will never seriously call them "hoodies") shouting "Harvard!" "Vanderbilt!," and goodness knows what else. I'd like to think that these people fall into categories 1-3, but I'm not sure. If not, then fie on them, I say!

Bottom line: apparel of college you don't attend, BAD! Pride in your alma mater, GOOD!

Happy dressing.

(NOTE: If you do this, I don't hate you; I'm not that intolerant. It just seems silly is all.)

No lyrical selection this evening.