Oh lazy and self-indulgent days. I routinely vow to make a stronger effort to post regularly, to post insightful comments and engage in a witty repartee with the audience/dear readers/world at large. And most days I end up watching streaming tv and ignoring the fact that I should be researching/writing/engaged in meaningful activities full of backslashes. It's not that I get nothing done, but it never feels like enough. Maybe that's just me or maybe it isn't enough. I'll not be the judge.
I spend a lot of time looking to the future. Thinking of lazy and self-indulgent days where I won't have to feel like I am not doing what I should be doing. Spending the afternoons idly watching tv while I paint. Writing up a story, editing some old pieces, doing some quality reading. But mostly playing with my son. Blocks and dinosaurs and puzzles and running around with swords screaming like pirate ninjas. Such blissfull freedom. But that's a way off. First the thesis. Slogging through that to reach a temporary telos before this new stage of life kicks off high gear. I imagine I will be writing a lot about my son once he is born, all the strange and wonderful things that come along with parenthood. All the rage and vitriol that comes along with dealing with a whole new crop of idiots (not my kid, the rest of the world including other parents most of whom I have no respect or sympathy for ... yet, perhaps). But right now, I mostly have nothing. My writing style is scattered and unpolished. Especially for an academic piece using Derrida. I can't resonably post my ideas in progress. Either you wouldn't want to read them (likely) or the flaws in the partially constructed argument would be such that they would be torn to pieces (or a whole host of other options that I need not enter into now). Suffice it to say that this hardly seems the place to raise half-finished arguments of dubious merit. So until my arguments of dubious merit are completed, I mostly don't have a whole lot to post. I don't really have the time to enter into creative work - it's a completely different thought process and quite distracting - or to express opinions on current events, life the universe and everything - the time to develop cogent arguments is better spent watching streaming tv and whishing I had the motivation to get back to work. Perhaps. I guess I'll just have to see what happens and try to get whatever writing done that I can.
Oh, I was exhorted to make my next post about tits. I guess I failed to make it wholly so. But here is a tidbit for y'all. Women with big tits (and other standards of conventional beauty) feel less inclined to become feminists, to challenge the status quo, to rock the boat that has placed them on such an idealized (yet objectified) pedestal. Discuss.