I bought another wolf shirt, ostensibly from a pro-wildlife organization. I’d like to indulge in the fantasy of “responsible consumerism” but the truth is I’m just another tool. Defenders of Wildlife kind of hurt me when they endorsed killing the profanity peak pack, but really I shouldn’t have been surprised. You can’t trust anyone. Gah, listen to me. This is how people talk about their exes. At least I got wolf stuff out of it. So many calendars, a plushie, and a shirt that wasn’t even black but I still wore it until…well, you know. Well, I just received word that the new one I ordered is being printed–as the email said, “currently printing.” I don’t know if there’s any precedent in indo-european besides English for active forms with passive meaning–usually it’s the reverse. Deponent verbs are friggin everywhere, but English appears to have none–save, perhaps, for “be born,” and even that can be logically construed as passive. Caecus in Latin, or at least in Virgil, can mean “blind” (i.e., of a person) or it can mean “blinding” or “causing to become blind” (as of a cloud of smoke) but that’s the closest I can think of.
Last day of classes is tomorrow. I am told there will be cookies. Excite!
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck my state has been on fire for over a month and now Gatlinburg (not my town) is being evacuated. I saw a post on Facebook mourning the loss of some hotel, and I’m like, “The trees goddamn it the treeeeees!” We’ve had a little rain recently. Maybe this time it’ll be enough to help–last time it was hardly anything.
Tennessee wat r u doin. Tennessee. STAHP.
It’s already reached Smokey Mountains National Park. Even if it never comes near my house this is still horrifying. Is this what our winters will look like from now on? For how long will we have forests left?
Oh please let the fires stop
I am reading some interesting things about Dido and her sister. One paper I read says they’re meant to evoke the harpies from the Odyssey. Did NOT see that coming. Of course, these are scholars who are familiar with many more classical works than I am. So much so that it’s a trifle intimidating. I wonder sometimes if maybe I chose the wrong major. I might not be smart enough. Actually I’m afraid sometime I really might not be smart enough. *heavy sigh* Though it might help some if I laid off the videogames. And the politics. And the Netflix. But hell. At one point I was taking five classes. You can tell I was an alcoholic. Woof. Those kinds of decisions. But then I made out okay that semester. And then I hit my head pretty hard since then (car accident). Then I got the shit beat out of me. Then I was sparring with a dude and he literally floored me. I fear for my brain. But it struck me as I was reading these articles that that, in large part, was what I am being prepared for. Being read by students who are hoping to get read by students and become known among a small cadre of elite intellectuals who fancy themselves forward-thinking but who really mostly just reinforce the prevailing ways of doing things.
I also just found out I’ve been keeping my poinsettias in insufficient darkness. Total darkness from five pm until eight am. And apparently fluorescent light is enough during the day. Eh. Well, we’ll see. The damn things will be red again by Christmas. They will!