Name: Ianthe M. Belisle Dempsey
Age: 17
Favorite philosopher: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Age: 17
Favorite philosopher: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Been there
Time travel
And, yes!!
I say that time travel
Really does already exist
But not through the sciences
And through physics
But it exists within the power
Of our own minds
To illuminate our own memories
And now through some
Subliminal hypnotic state of mind
One can recede back
Into one's own previous life
Not to extract precise, minute details
But to re-inhabit vague transcendental experiences of pre-existential... optimism
A time before any ability to reason
Is actually set
A time before logic covers
All the dimensions of our thinking
And if we're lucky
We can even dissolve back
To a time of glorious, superhuman
Space and time
A time when all things seem possible
Time travel
And, yes!!
I say that time travel
Really does already exist
But not through the sciences
And through physics
But it exists within the power
Of our own minds
To illuminate our own memories
And now through some
Subliminal hypnotic state of mind
One can recede back
Into one's own previous life
Not to extract precise, minute details
But to re-inhabit vague transcendental experiences of pre-existential... optimism
A time before any ability to reason
Is actually set
A time before logic covers
All the dimensions of our thinking
And if we're lucky
We can even dissolve back
To a time of glorious, superhuman
Space and time
A time when all things seem possible
check these sweet tunes.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
These are strange days on planet Earth.
So, I'm back from spending four days in California this past weekend, which was absolutely amazing. Summary:
-went to Amoeba music and was too overwhelmed to actually buy anything
-went to Haight-Ashbury and saw no hippies, sadly
-hung out in Berkeley where there was a lot of good shopping and a lot of hippies
-cruised around San Francisco and drove up and down a lot of hills unsafely
-both of HF's JV teams advanced to quarters and subsequently had to catch a flight and forfeit
-there are far too many Asians and Indians
-forty degrees warmer than Chicago
-had a GPS lie to us and take us over the Bay Bridge into 'Frisco instead of to Berkeley
-made delightful new California friends
-almost missed flight home
It was good stuff.
I stayed home from school today, then left to go to the ATM to get some cash and then go to school... I got there at exactly 3, which was sort of pointless, unless you factor in going to debate and then getting dinner and hanging out at my house afterwards. So I basically showed up to school for after school. I had a legit reason, though; besides recovering from California I've caught a cold.
In other news, Nick Hampton, my 22-year-old ex-guitar teacher, who I still keep in contact with and text/MySpace message, has recently decided that he wants me to go to college with him. See what had happened was, he left Melody Mart (he's really hilariously abusive, he's made me cry a couple times, and thrown sharp objects at me) to go to the University of Colorado (I cried when I learned this, even though he's a jerk a lot of the time), then due to some sort of unforeseen circumstance returned back to Homewood which, as he describes, "is a pile of festering dog shit sprinkled with people that I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire."
I suppose some additional information on this character would be nice. It's an odd relationship we have, to be sure. My lessons were always him yelling at me for not having practiced, me not caring, and then us talking. My mother hated him. He called me, drunk, at 1 in the morning on the first day of school to tell me about how his sophomore year at H-F was the year he got into drugs and fucked up his life and how since I remind him a lot of himself I need to not do anything stupid because he doesn't want to see me end up like him, at 22, roaming the streets drunk and depressed.
I asked him why he had to call me when he was drunk, and he said it was the only way he'd be able to tell me the truth. He's basically done every drug available in the Homewood area and a couple that aren't... he told me some hilarious stories about triple C's...
It's not that he's an idiot, a wastoid, whatever. What's frustrating is he's got ambition. Wants to be a journalist (we had this in common and discussed colleges), a writer. And he's good at it, he just can't get his shit together. Recently his fiancée broke up with him after four years of being together, on top of everything. He's a good person, albeit an addicted one.
And now he's got this idea that I should go to University of Colorado with him, because "life's more fun with people you know around." Or something like that. I'm honestly going to compile a book of proverbs from his various sayings. Among them:
"I've done a lot of things of questionable legality over 22 years and the only way I've been able to keep doing those things is by being smart about who I involve. Whether you're talking about drugs, alcohol, or killing people it's all about who you let in and how close you let them. "
"Bull. The only plan you have is to not have a plan. Remember: being smarter than successful people isn't success in itself."
"Life sucks in all its forms. Never forget that."
"A hipster's only as good as the knowledge he can share. That's called being a beatnik."
"I'm trying to sleep you dick! Text me again during business hours. I'm currently closed for remodeling." (uncommon, considering he texts me at 3am and claims that sleep is a waste of time.)
He provides for the only avenue of random, what-the-fuckness in my life. I live in the suburbs. I have no drama. I don't hate anyone. My grades are okay. I'm relatively smart. I have a loving family. And I'm going to run away to college in Colorado with my 22-year-old ex-guitar teacher who is also a drug addict.
It has a quality delightfully subtitled-movie to it. I should be worried, but I think Nick knows about as much about me as anyone.
I don't know if that's a good thing.
(Thanks to The Speakerphones for the title.)
So, I'm back from spending four days in California this past weekend, which was absolutely amazing. Summary:
-went to Amoeba music and was too overwhelmed to actually buy anything
-went to Haight-Ashbury and saw no hippies, sadly
-hung out in Berkeley where there was a lot of good shopping and a lot of hippies
-cruised around San Francisco and drove up and down a lot of hills unsafely
-both of HF's JV teams advanced to quarters and subsequently had to catch a flight and forfeit
-there are far too many Asians and Indians
-forty degrees warmer than Chicago
-had a GPS lie to us and take us over the Bay Bridge into 'Frisco instead of to Berkeley
-made delightful new California friends
-almost missed flight home
It was good stuff.
I stayed home from school today, then left to go to the ATM to get some cash and then go to school... I got there at exactly 3, which was sort of pointless, unless you factor in going to debate and then getting dinner and hanging out at my house afterwards. So I basically showed up to school for after school. I had a legit reason, though; besides recovering from California I've caught a cold.
In other news, Nick Hampton, my 22-year-old ex-guitar teacher, who I still keep in contact with and text/MySpace message, has recently decided that he wants me to go to college with him. See what had happened was, he left Melody Mart (he's really hilariously abusive, he's made me cry a couple times, and thrown sharp objects at me) to go to the University of Colorado (I cried when I learned this, even though he's a jerk a lot of the time), then due to some sort of unforeseen circumstance returned back to Homewood which, as he describes, "is a pile of festering dog shit sprinkled with people that I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire."
I suppose some additional information on this character would be nice. It's an odd relationship we have, to be sure. My lessons were always him yelling at me for not having practiced, me not caring, and then us talking. My mother hated him. He called me, drunk, at 1 in the morning on the first day of school to tell me about how his sophomore year at H-F was the year he got into drugs and fucked up his life and how since I remind him a lot of himself I need to not do anything stupid because he doesn't want to see me end up like him, at 22, roaming the streets drunk and depressed.
I asked him why he had to call me when he was drunk, and he said it was the only way he'd be able to tell me the truth. He's basically done every drug available in the Homewood area and a couple that aren't... he told me some hilarious stories about triple C's...
It's not that he's an idiot, a wastoid, whatever. What's frustrating is he's got ambition. Wants to be a journalist (we had this in common and discussed colleges), a writer. And he's good at it, he just can't get his shit together. Recently his fiancée broke up with him after four years of being together, on top of everything. He's a good person, albeit an addicted one.
And now he's got this idea that I should go to University of Colorado with him, because "life's more fun with people you know around." Or something like that. I'm honestly going to compile a book of proverbs from his various sayings. Among them:
"I've done a lot of things of questionable legality over 22 years and the only way I've been able to keep doing those things is by being smart about who I involve. Whether you're talking about drugs, alcohol, or killing people it's all about who you let in and how close you let them. "
"Bull. The only plan you have is to not have a plan. Remember: being smarter than successful people isn't success in itself."
"Life sucks in all its forms. Never forget that."
"A hipster's only as good as the knowledge he can share. That's called being a beatnik."
"I'm trying to sleep you dick! Text me again during business hours. I'm currently closed for remodeling." (uncommon, considering he texts me at 3am and claims that sleep is a waste of time.)
He provides for the only avenue of random, what-the-fuckness in my life. I live in the suburbs. I have no drama. I don't hate anyone. My grades are okay. I'm relatively smart. I have a loving family. And I'm going to run away to college in Colorado with my 22-year-old ex-guitar teacher who is also a drug addict.
It has a quality delightfully subtitled-movie to it. I should be worried, but I think Nick knows about as much about me as anyone.
I don't know if that's a good thing.
Labels: california, debate, nick
Ianthe. posted at 12:18 AM