posting this up for a friend to read.
It has been said often and loudly, both in and out of our classroom, that a discerning pro-life person will withhold the imposition of his or her beliefs on others in the public forum. Many who are convinced of this philosophy say things like, “I strongly oppose abortion, myself,” then hasten to add a “but…” clause that explains why they are pro-choice, despite their feelings. This document will demonstrate that such beliefs (I will not distinguish among them) are logically irreconcilable with the majority of common worldviews. Next, it will investigate the oppressive cultural habitat from which these claims arise. It is not within the scope of this paper to debate the morality of abortion itself, but only the framework in which that conversation takes place. My contention is specifically that the “I am personally opposed, but…” (hereafter “IPOB”) arguments within said dialogue are politically regressive as well as rationally untenable for the most common modes of thought.
A short, creative non-fiction story. I don’t normally do this, but enjoy.
You can always count on the elevators in my dorms for some much needed intrigue. You can also always count on them to be broken, and consequently slow and packed full of college kids. Anyway, there is some insight to be gained from being forced into spatial intimacy with perfect strangers. It confronts us with humanity in others as well as in ourselves. And if nothing else, it’s just great to watch how different people handle it. Coming down from my 21st floor during the morning rush to class, it is a virtual certainty that I will find myself in that very situation.
Is there anything more self-aggrandizing and pretentious than the convention of written band biographies? I can’t think of a time when a band bio clarified something important or essential to understanding the group’s music. Yet, we never seem to be completely rid of them. Of course, in an environment as competitive as the underground hardcore/metal scene, one has to at least try to stand apart from the swelling ranks of breakdown-clones on the internet.
“Brevity is the soul of wit,” wrote Shakespeare in his timeless Hamlet. Were he alive today to see the magnitude of his enduring observation reverberating through our virally connected, global culture; he might well withdraw his claim with an aptly placed “JK.”
Indeed, I’m finding that brevity is also the soul of something else entirely: Internet English. Also dubbed Netglish, Internet English is a form of what linguists call International Colloquial English. It may seem harmless enough, but there are deeper, more global ramifications than the annoying intrusion of “LOL” into real-life conversations.
We are cowards and thieves
Will we never turn to grieve
The damage done
Never quake with rage
At what we have become?
What we have become