|
mrmeaningful
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Dave
Birthday: 4/3/1982
Gender: Male
Interests: I dig a lot of things. I dig friends. Reading. Writing. Listening to Music. Watching Movies. Having Discussions. Etc. Well, this seems a bit generic, but I assure you I am a pop culture junkie. I dig Christianity, philosophy, theology, books, live shows, acting, developing my character to be Christ like, road trips, beer, tobacco, logic problems, email, the state of sloth, the state of sleep, coffee. Generally, "destruction" is too strong of a word, but I like and would like to destroy. I dig other pop culture junkies. Looking for more of us around. Don't be a bastard. Nobody likes a tattletale or a spinster. Dig it.
Expertise: I have an undergraduate degree in philosophy. I minored in english literature. I'm a graduate student in philosophy at Talbot School of Theology in California.
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/20/2004
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| Friends,
I've noticed that despite my infrequent posts, a number of you still check my blog daily. Surely your loyalty overrules the boredom you must feel in reading expired posts, and for your loyalty I applaud you. For your boredom, I can only trust you find pleasure in boredom, security even. I intend to further your pleasure and security.
Last night we went and saw the 10th anniversary midnight showing of Can't Hardly Wait. I loved it. But, whatever your thoughts on the film, I can't believe it's been ten years since it came out. Another mid-twenties reminder that I'm growing old.
My sister Emily is in Los Angeles! She's taking her spring break with us and it kicks ass! Last week, Ann's brother Alan, his wife, and children came to LA. I've dated the duplicitous Ann Clipperton for over a year and a half and until last week, I'd only met her mother. There's something truly terrifying for me meeting family members of the girls I've dated. And though I usually end up enjoying the company of girlfriend's relations, my fear remains my status quo, my inchoate pre-theoretical starting point and point of return. I've thought that the fear--or, shall we say, anxiety--lies in the conflicting desires I have with the lady-of-interest's relatives. Sure, there is a general concern we share for Lady X's well being, and specific concern to share to some degree Lady X's interests. But at some point the conflict arises, and all parties concerned are aware of it. My interest is romantic, Family X's interest is anything but romantic. This conflict drives plot in romantic comedies and instantiates my anxiety. Family X--especially Father X and Brother X--know I am romantically interested. And even though they may also desire for Lady X to find romantic involvement, they desire, I think, more that she avoids all charming and balding men. Now, I happen to fall under this last category, but I also fall under the former category as well. To some joe out there I am but Brother X, fueled with hatred for Joe's charm and hairline. Yet, I do not mark it a double standard to hate the joes, and also wish esteem from my girlfriend's family. So, what say you, company of advisers? Is my analysis on the mark and universal, or is it particular to my neurosis?
I should note, Ann's brother, mother, niece, nephew, and sister-in-law gracefully put me at ease and I greatly enjoyed their presence. Indeed, I was sad to see them all leave.
In other news, tomorrow is St. Patty's. I understand the Dallas parade, as usual, did well by us Irish. I plan on following its lead, and honoring the Irish. Most likely this will consist in a strained brogue, jokes, songs, and pints. Perhaps the good wench maiden Ann of the psychologically abusive will join me. Perhaps my mates, brother, and sister will share beer and Yates in a gentry-folked tavern.
And to you, goodbye forever.
P.S.
David Gilbert
| | |
| Friends,
I have something interesting for you.
Like most days, I spent today reading, writing, and doing TA work. I got in a couple of meals, and a couple of conversations. Today, however, most of the reading I've done has been inessential to classes or work. I read for a reading group and I'm working on catching up on some of the reading in a class I'm sitting in on. I was reading in a book called An Essay on Free Will by Peter Van Inwagen (PVI, for short, because that name sucks to type when you're laying sideways on your bed) when I became enthralled. PVI writes analytic philosophy so clearly, so elegantly, so precise, with modesty and magnanimity, and with humor (which if you know anything about analytic philosophy, you know how much you come to cherish a good joke when it comes by) that in reading him I said to myself something I always say when I find a writer who impresses me, "Why haven't I read him yet!" And though Gilberts occasionally over-enthuse about new things...
Anyway, back to PVI. He teaches at Notre Dame and works with metaphysics and epistemology. I know he's one of the top philosophers in the country and I know he's a Christian. I know more about the guy than, say, any schmoe not in graduate school for philosophy, nevertheless, I know little about him. And I remember that one of my roommates owns a book called God and the Philosophers (Oxford University Press 1994). This book is a collection of autobiographical essays by prominent theist philosophers. And one of the essays is PVI. Quam Dilecta.
I don't expect enthusiasm from everyone about a personal essay by a philosopher. But this essay is truly excellent. He gives an intellectual history, and then provides some of the reasons he himself is a Christian. This essay is about 30 pages in length. I would like to think that the reason I enjoyed it ("enjoy" doesn't seem to be the right word) is not because I'm gaining familiarity and excitement with the author's work, or even because I'm a Christian (though that helps), but rather that there is something truly wise in the content.
That is to say if you have an hour and a half or so in the next few days, give it a shot, and let me know what you thought.
Anyway, that is all...
| | |
| Man! I am really busy these days! Perhaps the busiest I can remember.
So. Given the above, I do not have too much time to blog. When I xanga, I usually do it out of luxury, out of a sigh or a breather. Seeing, however, that I have not blogged in two months, I figure I can make a minute.
So, since December 18, 2007, I have:
enjoyed Christmas with Galen, Scott, and Amity
enjoyed the presence of my girlfriend, whom, you will note, has amended her title with the deletion of "long distance." Her given name is still Ann, but we're working on amending that too. I like "Mr Xavier Profundus". She likes "Ole Willy de ole` Senoritas".
participated in a two-week clinical drug study testing parkinson's medication. During this time I watched season 1 and 2 of Lost, I read multiple books, walked a total of 100-yards-a-day, learned the value of homecooked meals, and earned $2,000.
lost said $2,000 on liquor, women, and children.
began a crazy semester where I am taking three classes for credit, one required class for zero credits (is zero singular or plural?), TA-ing a class of 100+ students (and it kicks ass!), sitting-in on an advanced philosophy class (metaphysics of agency....and do I ever want to tell you more!), and participating in a reading group. The naysayers may say I'm crazy. I think that, even if true, is dismissive. Ambitious? perhaps. In over my head? probably. Crying for help? likely. But a drunkard? (I never said you were a drunkard) Yes, but I am also a drunkard.
And, that is all for now. Enjoy your days, friends.
P.S.
David Gilbert
| | |
| Well, gents,
I am totally done with the semester. The last few weeks have been rough. I remember about three weeks ago saying something like, "Al right. Six (or was it seven?) papers left. I can do it." And hundreds of cups of coffee since then I've written around the neighborhood of 80 pages. I emailed my last paper in yesterday afternoon, and now I have absolutely no idea how I did this semester. Seriously. It could turn out between Cs and As. Probably not Cs, or B-'s. But, I just have no idea. I about had a nervous breakdown Saturday night and thanks to Galen and Ann, who forced me FORCED I TELL YOU to take a break and see I'm Not There. I really don't know what I thought while I was watching it. But the more I think about it, the more I love it.
In other news, I'm not coming home for Christmas this year. I plan on working, and earning money so when the Clipperton comes in, I'll be able to take little miss "ooooookay I'll stop two-timing you" out for dinner. Already I have two jobs lined up. Sometime in January, I'll play guinea pig for the drug companies and test some new-dingus drug for a solid wad of cash. But tomorrow I'm working on my first ever movie set. Some guy called in, couldn't work tomorrow, Galen suggested me. He said, "What about my brother, David? He's never worked a day of his life on a movie set." After that, I was hired. So, this may not be big news for most of you, but I am totally excited. It's like I'm slumming from the ivory towers of unemployment and books to mingle with the union industrial-type....only, the movie industry! And I think to myself, are people who work in the movie industry, are they...are they literate? Do they even have an opinion of Frankfurtian counterexamples to the principle of alternate possibilities on necessary conditions for a free action? I do not know, sir, I do not know. I'll be sure to report my findings on their behavior, values, and opinions on the metaphysics of free will.
"David, you pretentious bastard. You are one sonofabitch. ...and did I mention, you're poor. Take what you can get! Ass!" Comes the objection. And though it be true, its truth, I needn't but dismiss. HA!
P.S.
David Gilbert
| | |
| Friends,
and when I say stress, what I really mean to say is STRESS. I'm not trying to complain here. I'm more of the opinion that breaking from paper-writing to vent soothes the soul. I have a paper due last Wednesday that I'm finishing today. I was sick and under the influence of drugs what kept me from finishing earlier. I have a huge HUGE paper due on Thursday, and another one due on Friday. The one due on Friday I'm praying my professor grants me an extension on. But, the one due on Thursday is about the Death Penalty. If anyone should have any good recent articles in newspapers or journals on the Death Penalty--whether for or against--please please please send them my way. If you don't have my email address, ask me and I'll send it to you.
In other news. Last weekend I was given an early Christmas present from Galen. It was amazing. A weekend seminar on comedy writing. There were only two problems with it. First, the timing was pretty bad. Not only was it in the middle of crunch time here in southern California school semesters, but I won't be able to write creatively until next week sometime. Second, there was this dude who sat next to me who was a total total jerk. We do this exercise where we have a minute or so to write a 6 to 8 line scene between two characters, where one of them starts the scene with something like, "What's up?" or "Honey I'm home" or simply "Hello." Then, we create a comic exchange where one of the characters represents the "wavy line" in dialog. (Think, the straight man, though that's not quite the concept of "wavy line") Then we traded our scenes with someone next to us. I just happened to be sitting next to the idiot of the group. I didn't finish the scene. I had like two lines written. Not to make an excuse or anything, I just didn't finish. So, I give him my paper, and say, "Here's what I wrote, I didn't finish." And he starts going off. Like, "Well, were you trying to invent the dialog, or were you taking from your own experience. Because a real writer takes from experience and doesn't have to invent. You see, take me, for example...." "No," I said, "I just didn't finish." "Well," smug laugh,"here's mine". So I read his dialog. Unbelievable. None of it made sense. It was flat retarded. And this isn't just my ego here. Seriously, it sucked. I had keep asking him questions, like, "Why is the guy telling his wife she's gay?" "No, he's calling her decorating gay." "Why is the guy calling her decorating gay? and is he eating something?" "Yeah, of course. The scene takes place the day before Thanksgiving, he obviously has a turkey leg in his hand, then drops it on her back as he's massaging her. Then he rubs the turkey all over her back." Me: "He's massaging her?" "Yeah, of course. I've been thinking about this for a while." Whatever genius his dialog had, I didn't see it. And the fact that he solicited irrelevant writing advice before demonstrating how bad he himself wrote, just reassured my belief that arrogance and idiocy frequently cavort.
Other than that. The writing seminar was incredible. INCREDIBLE. INCREIBLE. MUY INCREIBLE. This guy, Steve Kaplan, had a great approach to comedy. He focused the entire weekend on a philosophy of comedy as truth. Comedy isn't simply the unexpected, or the ironic, or even the funny. Comedy is truth. So he began the sessions asking what is comedy, then talking about humans. What feature do all humans possess? Someone said, "being flawed" then I raised my hand and said, "the knowledge that we're going to die?". Yes, he says. Humans are the only creatures that know they will die, and what do we do? We wake up in the morning and dress nice, shave, and apply cosmetics or cologne or whathaveyou. Comedy's value is almost a poking fun at the human condition. But, here's the thing. Lest you think this theory of comedy as modeled after existential denial is fine and dandy but totally theoretic, not too fast. The idea that "comedy as truth" is very practical in writing and critiquing comedy. So, consider that in comedy, you're allowed one big lie: Boy wants to be big, and wakes up a 30-year-old man; Grumpy news reporter goes to small town to cover groundhog day, and gets caught repeating the same day for 10 years; the football team discovers they can't win a game, unless the nerd gets laid, etc. Once you have this one big lie, in comedy, you can't lie again. The characters have to do what real people would do in a given circumstance. So often, a comedy doesn't work, because the characters forfeit who they are so they can be cute, do a funny thing, or say a joke. Granted, this is usually the mistake of a director, producer, or writer who has this great idea for something funny Rob Schnieder can do. But the best comedies are truthful to the characters, and the situation they're in.
Other cool things about the seminar. We went through a brief history of comedy from the Greeks through the middle-ages, through vaudeville, to modern sitcoms and films. We went though practical tools of writing comedy, developing comic characters and premises, and we critiqued scenes from television and film. It was amazing! So, I've been writing a lot. But I'll end with a couple things. First, one of first things we did was go through and determine which of the following seven states of affairs are the funniest, least funny, most comic, and least comic. I'd like to hear your imput.
1. Man slipping on a banana peel.
2. Man in tophat slipping on a banana peel.
3. Man slipping on a banana peel after kicking a dog.
4. Man slipping on a banana peel after loosing his job.
5. Blind man slipping on a banana peel.
6. Blind man's dog slipping on a banana peel.
7. Man slipping on a banana peel and dying.
Well, like I said. I'd like to hear your imput. And if you have any recent articles about the death penalty, please send them my way.
Also, my girlfriend Ann moves to California in 17 days! Wooo hooo!
One more thing. Am I the only person who didn't really like Across the Universe?
P.S.
David Gilbert
| | |
|
