I feel really good about dropping out. I like not knowing what is going on in reality tv, not having the eighties look about me now (what a decade of fashion mistakes that was!), about not buying the large size because it costs less per ounce as I won't ever use that many ounces, about not getting online and shopping because it grants uber-instant gratification.
I also want to say that many people who have money and don't spend it look down on those who don't have money and spend it - the poorer people who want to look like they can compete with those who have health care plans and savings accounts. I see the nodding heads, the contempt for the unfortunate many who weren't bright enough to choose a major in college that ensured an income level that would provide a big house and investments. The only problem with those people is that now they are in industries that are expendable - the computer and software and giant plasma/HD television companies, the countless car and high tech sales people, the real estate folks. Many now have stock portfolios that are worthless. If people aren't spending money anymore, plastic or otherwise, on things they don't need, many of those people will lose their jobs. And then what will they do? Go to work for the folks they formerly found so far beneath them?
2 comments:
This is what I would say my third year of "Obshumation," as I like to call it (otherwise defined as my observation of the human species), and by far the most interesting yet. As most of my friends graduated last year, there has been a decrease in the amount of distractions that usually influenced my "obshumations." But with these obstacles now gone, I have ample opportunity to ponder and take notice of human behavior.
The consumerism of American citizens has especially worked its way up my human ladder, and really gnawed at me for quite some time. The amount of "Things" (as your blog is titled) people buy, and buy, and buy, and BUY has reached a level of ridiculousness. For example, a woman I know recently decided that she needed to organize and purge her Tubberware. After pulling all the Tubberware out of her cabinets and onto the counter, she GOES TO THE STORE and BUYS MORE Tubberware. After questioned as to WHY she would need MORE Tubberware when she is supposedly "purging", she replies that the new items have "snap-on lids and can stack on top of each other easily, and are dishwasher safe." Keep in mind that her cabinets offer plenty of room for her present Tubberware collection, and ALL of the old ones are dishwasher safe.
The need for new? No. It's the want, the desire, the availability to buy more and more.
I have thoroughly committed myself to buying things sparingly. I can't remember the last time I went shopping, other than for my brother's birthday present. I buy my clothes mainly at Buffalo Exchange, and only go when needed. Typically this involves a summer and winter run; twice a year. That's plenty.
I will always and honestly admit I have more than I need, way more. Being a country made up of primarily middle-class families, most people do. As citizens of the United States, we have too large of houses, to many cars, and too much of everything. Meanwhile, there are COUNTLESS numbers of people who have nothing but starvation, loss, and misery. Africa is a prime example of such, as exemplified on the wonderful television that American homes require.
You do bring up an excellent point, however. If we, as people of this nation, were to cut back on our spending and instead support and give to those in actual need of things (like food, not the new iphone or whatever), what would this do to those providing us with the products we are so tempted to buy?
Honestly, I do not have an answer to that. But one thing I do know, and have learned consistently from my "obshumations" is that this behavior needs to change. Now.
Hey, Ms. Iskra! I hope this helps:
1. How often do you write? When you do, what are your purposes?
For the last couple of months, I've been writing in these furious madcap spurts-- college essays. I'll start late on Saturday night, mouse through Wikipedia for inspiration, and end up glowering at the screen till three. The results of these lightning bursts of productivity-- they're variable in quality. I never submit anything until I've had a chance to proof it after a full night's sleep, and then I'll usually discover that I did something stupid. The metaphors I come up with late at night are beyond purple. I guess my inner editor retires after midnight. Sometimes I'll take a break from this process-- this self-examination is a little draining-- a be someone else for a while. Write a poem, or a pointless vignette.
2. What is your attitude toward writing? Do you ever do it because you want to?
Sometimes I'll go through weeks, months without writing because I'm afraid. I have these beautiful visions in my head, and I'm afraid of profaning them with my clumsy diction, my imprecise phrases. But then I'll calm down, sit down, and tune out that self-imposed pressure to perform for a while. And then I always think, Yes, this is fun. This is something I enjoy. I just have trouble remembering that sometimes.
3. When you do write, how satisfied are you with what you are able to express (usually, often, sometimes, not usually, never)? What, do you think, contributes to your level of satisfaction?
Not usually? I don't think I've ever written anything I'm truly proud of today. Part of the problem is that I've got such impossibly high standards for myself. It's irrational, but I read a lot, and I think on some level I expect myself to have the grace and mastery of these established authors. It's a sort of arrogance. I think I have to keep things in perspective, remind myself that it's OK to be just a silly high school girl, because that's what I am.
4. How concerned are you with others reading your writing (very, somewhat, not really, not at all)?
Somewhat. I'm as insecure as anyone, and sometimes I think I just want the confirmation that I did OK. I'm much less open about sharing autobiographical material-- like college essays-- than third-person pieces.
5. If you considered yourself a good writer, would you write more?
I think I'd definitely write more if I were less preoccupied about debasing my ideas via botched execution.
6. If you had an opportunity to improve your writing, what specifically would you request help with?
I dabble in poetry-- not a lot, just when I want a break from the monotony of prose-- but there are a lot of basic things I've never figured out. Line breaks. I understand the basics-- pace, breath stops, the kind of advice you give to a flutist tackling Debussy. But it's different, attempting the execution. Also, dialogue. Not the dialogue itself, but integrating it into the text without sounding choppy or bogged down by action tags. Transitioning between scenes. Also, I have this tendency to reach instinctively for cliches. And I can can sound too... academic in my creative writing. Convoluted, allusive, formal. I blame the poisonous influence of school. AP tests especially.
7. What advice about teaching would you give someone trying to help you learn?
The writing teachers I've trusted the most were willing to do assignments alongside the students. I think it'd be nice if instructors demonstrated their skills in practice, as well as in theory-- the way math teachers do, for instance. Sort of the humanities equivalent of the example problem? Also, we students are given a lot of examples of *how* to write-- all the poems, passages, novels we're assigned in class. But it can be just as helpful to study examples of how *not* to write. Not sure where those examples could be procured-- web resources?-- but it'd be amusing as well as informative. :)
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