your praises are better than nicotine. if i ever feel a dire need to quit
I’ll just ask you to send me a haiku whenever I want a cigarette

Singularity
Running from the painted cave
To shellac the soul

Tea reminds us of
Bitter sacrifice. And how
Grass is more humble
More than we will ever be
Ah, the taste of memories!

Art thou that thou art?
Maybe thou art that art thou.
You, synthesize me.

func(identity)
global values don’t exist
know thyself through me

OK, the second example is really a tanka, but that’s awesome. Does seem a little like bringing a gun to a knife fight, though.

I recently learned that one of my role models, upon waking, every single day—or so he claims—writes a sonnet. And these sonnets are often pure gold, from what I’ve read. So maybe I’ll make a habit out of fighting in haiku.

I’ll wake in sonnets, dream in ghazals, hunger in villanelle.

I had my first class of the day cancelled, so I lay out on the grass, in the sun, and examined the veins inside my eyelids. There was a breeze, and big tree near me, and irritating dance music blaring from the quad.

After an hour and a half of lolling, I convinced myself to get up and spend some time in the library.

The chemistry textbook I needed was checked out, so I read for pleasure. And it was grand.

I just wrote the two best papers I’ve ever written. One was a critical take on postmodernism and the future of critical theory. The next was a simple rundown of sociological concepts of my own choosing. A delectable excerpt from the latter paper follows.

Repressive desublimation

Marcuse’s One-Dimensional Man made for an interesting read. As I understand it, the perspective Marcuse has crafted is an approximate (read: critical) synthesis of Marxism and Freudianism, a rather timely theory for the age in which it was conceived. (Look, I like Hegel, OK?) The specific concept of repressive desublimation refers to the conflation of freedom and indulgence so rampant in post-war America, and likely even more so today.

The sociological implications of such a theory are the waning prospects of revolution, or, in more contemporary jargon, an erosion of the expressive capacities of the average American. Steeped in stupefying entertainment for all our waking hours, we lucky few in the post-industrialist societies of the world have little hope of breaking out of the mold crafted for us and donning the gauntlets of critical theory to duke it out with the capitalist system—particularly its prize-winning fighting cock, the military-industrial complex. We become dumb mouths above genitals numb with monotonous, unending stimulation, existing only to feed and mutely perpetuate our feeding. Repressive desublimation is the method by which the tyrant constructs delicious complicity. It is the plastic bag we place over our heads to masturbate.

Take that, BDSM imagery of Foucauldian power dynamics!

I daresay it’s never been said better.

First World Progress by mdumlao98 on Flickr

All day today I felt like a kid on the first day of school. Everything seemed new, I wanted to learn and do so much, and I was—funny that this has become to boilerplate to say—freaking hopeful.

As I’ve said before, I was a bit disappointed that I couldn’t be in the U.S. for this one. But walking around Jhongli today, I got thumbs up and wide grins from strangers. I ordered a lunch to go and the guy behind the counter pointed at the TV and said, “Obama!”

I concurred wholeheartedly.

My Taiwanese friends have been asking me what it feels like to have a black president. They don’t ask because they think it’s a big deal themselves, they ask because they’ve read that we Americans think it’s a big deal. Maybe it is, I don’t know. This election has never been about race to me. I think it’s fair to say that while it might be about race for many pro-Obama Americans, I think it’s more a racial matter for some anti-Obama Americans.

I’ll never forget how I lost my breath seeing the main page of the New York Times today:

Yes, I did select that picture to contrast the headline, because they had a nice little embedded applet for browsing pictures. So it’s not the New York Times’s message, but still, the juxtaposition of profound change and staunch, petulant conservatism really resonated with me. Maybe this will be a rocky start. Maybe it won’t be.

What I felt today reminded me of what I saw from the world immediately after 9/11. People looked at me on the street and wanted to share joy. “You’re America! Remember: we love you.” It was like they knew all along that we would do the right thing. They weren’t afraid at all.

There are many things America means to me. I don’t think lack of fear is necessarily one of them, but hope definitely is.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a beer with my friends.

Now I can pay off that $1,400+ ticket I charged to my credit card with a $1,500 limit.

I shall also buy lots of cocaine.

=D

]]> http://www.conorschaefer.com/blog/index.php/2008/08/22/calloo-callay-im-going-to-taiwan/feed/ 5 http://www.conorschaefer.com/blog/index.php/2008/08/12/metalsucksnet-is-the-greatest-publication-humanity-has-to-offer/ http://www.conorschaefer.com/blog/index.php/2008/08/12/metalsucksnet-is-the-greatest-publication-humanity-has-to-offer/#comments Wed, 13 Aug 2008 03:49:24 +0000 Conor http://www.conorschaefer.com/blog/?p=601 The metal blog world is a dark and lame place. I won’t even link to Blabbermouth; the commenters there bested only by YouTubers in terms of heart-wrenching hebetude. Sure, Invisible Oranges has the best title imaginable—and I do believe that 90% of having a decent website is the URL (yes, I fail that test)—but it’s an MP3 blog and doesn’t talk too much about the culture of the metal world.

Enter MetalSucks, by far the wittiest and most censorious metal publication around. Why do I love them so much? First, they turned me onto Metal Inquisition. I discovered Protest The Hero through MetalSucks. And finally, they give me free shit.

We asked you to come up with BBQ-related puns of metal bands, albums or songs, and you delivered. So much so that we had a damn hard time choosing just 1 winner! I wish I could hug all of you, but this is not little league and only one of you can win the following prize pack:

Graveyard BBQ – Greatest Hits Vol. II
Filter – Anthems For the Damned
Kataklysm – Prevail
Sepultura – The Best of Sepultura
Early Man – Closing In
The Sword – Gods Of The Earth

Yeah, I totally won that shit. They’ve already e-mailed me and said the loot is in the mail. The winning entry?

Conor: “Protest The Gyro”

I’m proud. Bite me.

I’ll certainly post again once it’s arrived, but in the mean time, click through and give these guys some hard-earned traffic.

MetalSucks ATE MY BALLS!!~!!!1!!
(click here)

DIMMU BORGIR‘s latest album, “In Sorte Diaboli”, has been certified gold in the band’s home country of Norway for sales in excess of 15,000 copes. DIMMU BORGIR is said to be the first metal band in Norway to shift than 15,000 units of a single release.

“In Sorte Diaboli” has sold more than 50,000 copies in the United States since its April 2007 release, according to Nielsen SoundScan.

Funny thing is, this is the first CD in their eight album discography that I haven’t bought. Oh, well. The kiddies love it.

\m/

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