As the title might suggest to you, this entry is going to jump around a little bit. Fair warning. See, initially, I had this fabulous plan to deconstruct/contextualize/update notions of religious liberty...and then it dawned on me that I had four hours of graduation party to chat through, and that I was shipping off for DC tomorrow afternoon. So that one will have to wait.
Over the past few hours, as I was trying (for the second time in way too short a time period) to shove my life unceremoniously into a bulbous purple suitcase, it struck me just how often I'll be doing this over the next few years, and just how cumbersome, in a literal, physical way, actual STUFF tends to be. It's great if you're going to be living a predictable, stable life, where you can just marinate day in and day out in a little self-created, stuff-filled comfort-reinforcing bath. But if economic globalization, employment uncertainty, and the general unplannedness of the next decade of my life are any indications, life is going to be neither predictable nor stable for quite a while. On a theoretical hipster level, that sounds exhilarating and invigorating, but superficial, petty me, used to having pretty much whatever it occurs to me I might need at hand, might need to let go of that neurosis and pack only what I absolutely need, while trusting self and common sense to fill in the blanks. Even though we as a species recognize, rationally enough, to be fair, that stability is something to be sought out and maintained at all costs, we still do recognize - in our legends, our history, our aspirations - that stories aren't things that typically happen while you're clinging to that stability. It's a small step, but I'm realizing that, generally speaking, stuff is something you accumulate after you find stories (or, in certain cases, fail to) but not something which usually coexists with the high-octane story-forming periods of life. Believe me, I'm far from an ascetic, but I am becoming more and more conscious of how a need for stuff weighs you down, and hopefully putting myself on a path towards relying on it quite a bit less.
Which brings me to, of course, the Zombie Apocalypse. Since, given recent news coverage of the face-eater and the roommate heart-and-brain eater, that Nerd's-worst-nightmare is apparently imminent. I heard a fascinating theory once (or read, more likely) that fears of Middle Class societies surrounding apocalypse are less an actual fear of death, and more a recognition that, despite all the wonders and advances specialization of labor has given us, it's also made us a lot less effective at the business of living, because instead of being a self-contained survival organism, we rely on the rest of the fabric: necessitating gadgets and things and stuff to fill in all the blanks we outsourced to other humans. If we were left living in an agricultural or nomadic setting, without the technology (even in a simple sense) to which we're accustomed, how would we survive? Would we be able to adapt outside our "domesticated" environment and fight for our lives? I think most people, myself included, would be a little hesitant to answer that question.
And, finally, a totally unrelated question. Should I and people who look like and have similar ethnic backgrounds to me start calling ourselves European-Americans? After all, if vernacular dictates that "African-Americans" and "Asian-Americans" and "Indian-Americans "are things, maybe an interesting subtle form of those qualifications would be to unhinge Caucasian/European from the "default" flavor of American, and put what were previously "white" Americans on a level with everyone else. Then, when it became expected for us to use it, maybe we'd just get sick of the whole hyphen system, and start calling everyone Americans, which is, you know, what they are. Since this is and has, at least since 1492, always been an immigrant country. As someone from a Irish/Italian community on her mother's side, there are experiences of those groups' marginalizations that go back only two generations, so we're all conscious of what it means to be folded into "Americans" and what it means to be left on the outside.
With that, it's back to Crash Course World History, kitten-snuggling, reciting Arabic verbs, and trying not to hyperventilate over how freaking excited I am to be in Washington in 24 hours.
All by best, and, if the Zombies come, here's hoping you don't lose your head. In any sense of the word.
Cody
Arabic Word of the Day: شعر Sh'ay'ra - A song or poem, derived from the Arabic verb Sha'ay'ra, to feel.
Quote of the Day, in honor of new challenges and possibilities:
"You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.
It's opener there
in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too."
-Oh, the Places You'll Go
Dr. Seuss
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