I really do love Tumblr, and this is pretty much why:

I really do love Tumblr, and this is pretty much why:

Filed under Microblogging
I never cared much for odes before. Maybe that’s only because all the odes I’d been exposed to were Keats’, and Keats’ odes seem a little…understated. Even melancholy, at times.
Now that I’ve learned more about the form (and now that I’m trying to write one of my own), that seems ridiculous. As I understand it, the whole point of an ode is to be over-the-top in your praise, to exult your subject, to be effusive, to be–well, a bit wild.
Maybe I’m not sophisticated enough to tell (or maybe I’ve just been reading all the wrong ones), but I’ve never seen a poem by Keats I would describe as “wild.”
I, on the other hand, am having so much fun being over-the-top.
I’d never realized before how much work I’m constantly putting into holding back when communicating strong feelings. Even in My Top Ten Rains, a poem specifically about feelings, I worked very hard to be understated: to show more than tell, to rely on the reader’s imagination to reconstruct my emotions from the blueprints I’d left on the page, rather than handing them over fully-formed.
And I think, for that piece, it was the right decision! I wanted the mood to be dreamlike, stream-of-consciousness; I wanted the reader to be able to imagine themselves in my place; I wanted them to actually feel some of those emotions rather than just reading about them. Even though the poem is about my own experiences, I didn’t want my ego (in either sense of the word) to be the main focus.
But ego is intrinsic to an ode! It’s not your opinion I’m trying to convey, it’s mine–with all the subjectivity, quirks, and uniquenesses that come with it…and it turns out part of that uniqueness is an intensity I hadn’t even realized I’d been concealing.
As a grown-up (and especially as a man), you’re not supposed to have strong feelings, let alone show them. But strong emotions aren’t wrong–in either the moral or epistemic sense.
Becoming more rational—arriving at better estimates of how-the-world-is—can diminish feelings or intensify them. Sometimes we run away from strong feelings by denying the facts, by flinching away from the view of the world that gave rise to the powerful emotion. If so, then as you study the skills of rationality and train yourself not to deny facts, your feelings will become stronger.
-Eliezer Yudkowsky, Feeling Rational
Of course, it’s still important not to overwhelm the people around you, especially when those strong feelings are about them. Luckily, this particular ode isn’t about a person, so I haven’t been holding back at all. It’s exhilarating!
…I should add that none of this means the poem will be any good. Don’t get your hopes up. But even if this ends up being the worst ode I ever write, I don’t think it will be the last.
You might be tired of hearing it by now. If so, I apologize. It’s just something I have a really hard time remembering.
I’ve been sticking to my daily schedule so far–and I’m really proud of myself for that!–but there’s a whole lot of half-finished posts piling up in my “drafts” queue and that feels like a bad sign. Microblogging has been great, and I’m going to continue doing it, but I think I need a bit of a nudge to actually finish more of the harder, long-form pieces. So here’s my resolution: at least one long-form post per week.
I expect I’ll put most of them up on Saturday, but that won’t be a hard-and-fast rule. I’d like to give myself a bit of extra time to start with, so I’m not going to. (Ha! Take that, me!) Expect a new long-form post by the end of this week.
(“Long-form” might be a bit misleading. The idea is simply to finish more of what I start; if I decide an idea doesn’t need more than a few paragraphs to be complete, that’s a win!)
Happy new year!
The Star Wars movies were some of my favorites when I was little. I watched them so many times my parents can probably recite Episodes IV, V, and VI by heart. I remember when the Special Editions came out–I was excited to see them because of all the new, fancy tricks. The VHS tapes I owned were all of the old, boring edition.
I still have the tapes, but it’s been a long time since I owned a VHS player, so now that my children are into Star Wars I’ve had to suffer through George’s “improvements” over and over again. There are precisely three changes that actually improve on the originals:
That’s it. Those are the only things that got better. Every other change was superfluous at best and cringe-inducing at worst–a world-class case study in “just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”
Which parts of the films suffered? Oh, let us count the ways! Worse pacing? Check. Worse music? Check. Worse characterization? Check. Brand-new, never-before-seen plot holes? Check. Replacing Sebastian Shaw’s sympathetic face with Hayden Christensen’s obnoxious, arrogant smirk? Check, and check.
Thank goodness they managed to keep George away from the keyboard for the sequels.
The kids have been really into Star Wars lately. Maybe even as much as I was when I was their age! Luckily, they have three times as many movies to choose from as I did, so I haven’t gotten completely sick of any of them (yet). It’s also been a nice reminder of why I liked those movies in the first place. For example:
This is probably one of my favorite scenes in the entire franchise. It takes a throwaway line from the first twenty minutes of A New Hope, and turns it into a moment of unexpected character growth just before the original trilogy’s final act–and for one of its most overlooked characters. It’s just such a lovely story beat!
As a kid, I didn’t care much for C-3PO (R2-D2 was way cooler), but now that I have more writing experience I’m really impressed at how endearing a character he is in spite of all his obnoxious, whiny dialogue. The “complainer with a heart of gold” trope is just so hard to pull off!
What’s your favorite moment from the series?
Filed under Essays
If anybody needs me, I’ll be in the attic wearing a John Keats costume.
Filed under Microblogging
In my Google Drive, I have a folder with one document for each year since about 2015. Each one of them contains quotes I read that year that I thought were particularly informative, inspiring, insightful, funny, etc.
Lately I’ve been re-reading some of my older essays (not my old old essays–I’m talking, like, last month’s), and I’ve found myself wanting to quote myself.
Needless to say, my internal critic had a few words about this.
Filed under Microblogging
Me: Wow, people seem to like my last post a lot. I’ve gotten some really positive feedback!
My brain: Well, you worked really hard on it. You should be proud! All that practice is paying–
My other brain: QuiT nOW, yOUv’E pEakeD
Filed under Microblogging
Me: If reading my own writing gives me goosebumps and makes me cry, that probably means it’s maybe sorta good, right?
My brain: Sounds fake. Don’t trust it.
Filed under Microblogging