Nothing to say

I really don't have anything to say as I start this post. I've simply had my fill of reading, reading, reading for my class on Differentiating Instruction and must transition to writing somehow. Of course, the ideal outlet would be to write on my reading in the class forums, but I find I am disinclined to acquiesce to that suggestion.

This taking-classes-online thing is tricky, especially for an unemployed person with poor natural time-management skills. I also find myself with far too little time to write, too little time to talk, too little time to connect with people - because the natural connections of work and class have been broken. I suppose I could still write (look! I write! I'm a writer!), but I'm always left with the feeling that time could be better spent doing homework.

Perhaps this time could be better spent journalling ...

*glares at spellcheck*

You know, there is no law in the English language which definitely governs whether one does or does not double the final consonant when adding a verb ending. This little Microsoft Word convention seems to have caught on everywhere, but doubled final consonants are traditionally just an alternative, albeit more common in British usage than American. "Journalling" ought to be as acceptable as "journaling"...

...oh.

It is? Equally unacceptable?

Then learn a new verb. And learn also the word "spellcheck." You might find it useful.



There. Done. Where were we? Ah, yes, I could be journalling or working on fiction as well, but that requires that I actually feel like talking to myself (hmm, most of my recent journal entries are discussions of what I'm learning in class) or that I have an idea for a fiction story. Perhaps I should start a blog, even less frequently updated, wherein I publish my short fiction and poetry. It would be eagerly mobbed as people marveled (fine, I didn't double it, are you happy spellcheck?) at my brilliant ideas, then abandoned (or torch-and-pitchforked; maybe I should invest in a ruined castle or old windmill?) as everyone realized that I never get beyond ideas into an actual finished work worth reading. Except in essays where teachers insist on my finishing. Perhaps I should try reworking old essays for blog posts? But this of course will not interest many people. I find it brilliant that I pitted Beowulf against St. Andrew and brought in Sir Gawain to comment on the balance of faith and physical strength, along with Unferth making snide comments about Beowulf and St. Augustine pulling for Andrew, but few people will have both the knowledge base and the right sense of humor to appreciate it.

There's really only one solution. Post, and wikilink it to death so that everyone will learn more about these important topics! Now if only I can find a text of Andreas online.

And now for something completely late

As a junior in high school, I wrote an essay of which I was rather proud. I was given two months to write a comparison/contrast essay on a topic of my choice. I chose men and women. I learned a vitally important lesson: never choose the topic covered by the Dave Barry column you read in class. Your essay will not measure up.

We had to write multiple drafts, and I realized my mistake by the end of the first draft. Unfortunately, I then had only one night left to complete my remaining four required drafts. I was panicking (my notes show that I was considering comparing/contrasting Batman with Larry-Boy). Then, in a moment of inspiration, I discovered a topic and wrote one of my favorite compositions.

I typed it at the school library and failed to save a copy, which distressed me for years. Then, cleaning out my room one day, I discovered a folder full of schoolwork that I had considered important. Inside was my essay! There was much celebration. I determined to transcribe it as soon as possible. It has been a few years since.

In the frantic atmosphere of the end of the semester, I thought of this paper often. Now, having finished my last take-home final, I think it is time to transcribe the essay. Call it deep, call it important, call it thought-provoking - if you can do so with a straight face. And now, after nine years, I present my well thought-out Englilsh paper:

The Procrastinator and the Planner

The Terrible Trivium

Yes, I'm starting with another quote. Let's face it: quotes are how I frame the world.

The Humbug whistled gaily at his work, for he was never as happy as when he had a job which required no thinking at all. After what seemed like days, he had dug a hole scarcely large enough for his thumb. Tock shuffled steadily back and forth with the dropper in his teeth, but the full well was still almost as full as when he began, and Milo's new pile of sand was hardly a pile at all.

"How very strange," said Milo, without stopping for a moment. "I've been working steadily all this time, and I don't feel the slightest bit tired or hungry. I could go right on the same way forever."

"Perhaps you will," the man agreed with a yawn (at least it sounded like a yawn).

"Well, I wish I knew how long it was going to take," Milo whispered as the dog went by again.

"Why not use your magic staff and find out?" replied Tock as clearly as anyone could with an eye dropper in his mouth.

Milo took the shiny pencil from his pocket and quickly calculated that, at the rate they were working, it would take each of them eight hundred and thirty-seven years to finish.

"Pardon me," he said, tugging at the man's sleeve and holding the sheet of figures up for him to see, "but it's going to take eight hundred and thirty-seven years to do these jobs."

"Is that so?" replied the man, without even turning around. "Well, you'd better get on with it then."

"But it hardly seems worth while," said Milo softly.

"WORTH WHILE!" the man roared indignantly.

"All I meant was that perhaps it isn't too important," Milo repeated, trying not to be impolite.

"Of course it's not important," he snarled angrily. "I wouldn't have asked you to do it if I thought it was important." And now, as he turned to face them, he didn't seem quite so pleasant.

"Then why bother?" asked Tock, whose alarm suddenly began to ring.

"Because, my young friends," he muttered sourly, "what could be more important than doing unimportant things? If you stop to do enough of them, you'll never get to where you're going." He punctuated his last remark with a villainous laugh.

"Then you must -----" gasped Milo.

"Quite correct!" he shrieked triumphantly. "I am the Terrible Trivium, demon of petty tasks and worthless jobs, ogre of wasted effort, and monster of habit."

And, to follow this with a related obstacle earlier in the story, with the Lethargians:

"Well, if you can't laugh or think, what can you do?" asked Milo.

"Anything as long as it's nothing, and everything as long as it isn't anything," explained another.

"There's lots to do; we have a very busy schedule-

"At 8 o'clock we get up, and then we spend

"From 8 to 9 daydreaming.

"From 9 to 9:30 we take our early midmorning nap.

"From 9:30 to 10:30 we dawdle and delay.

"From 10:30 to 11:30 we take our late early morning nap.

"From 11:00 to 12:00 we bide our time and then eat lunch.

"From l:00 to 2:00 we linger and loiter.

"From 2:00 to 2:30 we take our early afternoon nap.

"From 2:30 to 3:30 we put off for tomorrow what we could have done today.

"From 3:30 to 4:00 we take our early late afternoon nap.

"From 4:00 to 5:00 we loaf and lounge until dinner.

"From 6:00 to 7:00 we dillydally.

"From 7:00 to 8:00 we take our early evening nap, and then for an hour before we go to bed at 9:00 we waste time.

"As you can see, that leaves almost no time for brooding, lagging, plodding, or procrastinating, and if we stopped to think or laugh, we'd never get nothing done."

"You mean you'd never get anything done," corrected Milo.

"We don't want to get anything done," snapped another angrily; "we want to get nothing done, and we can do that without your help."

"You see," continued another in a more conciliatory tone, "it's really quite strenuous doing nothing all day, so once a week we take a holiday and go nowhere, which was just where we were going when you came along. Would you care to join us?"

"I might as well," thought Milo; "that's where I seem to be going anyway."

Those are from The Phantom Tollbooth by Norman Juster. Shel Silverstein seems to have heard of the Lethargians:

I've been working so hard you just wouldn't believe,
And I'm tired!
There's so little time and so much to achieve,
And I'm tired!
I've been lying here holding the grass in its place,
Pressing a leaf with the side of my face,
Tasting the apples to see if they're sweet,
Counting the toes on a centipede's feet.
I've been memorizing the shape of that cloud,
Warning the robins to not chirp so loud,
Shooing the butterflies off the tomatoes,
Keeping an eye out for floods and tornadoes.
I've been supervising the work of the ants
And thinking of pruning the cantaloupe plants,
Calling the fish to swim into my nets,
And I've taken twelve thousand and forty-one breaths,
And I'm TIRED!

I'm astounded at how literature can be so aware of my busy schedule! It forgets blogging and Internet surfing for quotes, though. Also meticulously editing invisible HTML to clean it up where it won't be noticed.