Is it sad that the only real highlight of the day was a piece of intelligence re: issue x (I cannot discuss this on public domain) that I received from someone I had only met for less than an hour? In any case, and I'm speaking generally here, it's not OK to sensationalise your own romance narrative and remove it from the context of its inherent destructiveness. But back to the original point: it is doubly sad because I want this destruction to persist and reach a dramatic conclusion, because I'm that much done with supporting the problematic choices of other people.
In happier news, I'm in school again and it feels amazing to be sitting in a lecture and be asked to watch an hour-long video about Jackson Pollock, thinking about exciting events lined up until the end of August and new responsibilities that I will hopefully succeed in. (Though not in a chauvinistic way.) With more to come in September. And the following months. The act of living is weird and philosophically unsettling because we contrive a projection of our future without even being certain of our present reality in space and time.
Some premises that will anticipate a more coherent rant:
(1) If it claims to be, at its heart, an interdisciplinary programme, let's just call it that. Carve out your own curriculum. Your own intellectual interests do not need to be validated by an annex to your degree certificate.
(2) It supports the thesis that epistemic communities are merely exclusive groups premised on the perceived superiority of its members' intellects.
(3) It seems just to exert control over resources that have been acquired in exchange for money, but it's problematic to lay claim these resources while being blind to your own socioeconomic privilege.
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