Well, my cherished pumpkins, gather round and I shall tell you a colourful tale of many wondrous things.

First, I shall make an index of the colourful tale so you can hopscotch over the greyish parts
*eye-rolling* *yes this is my last post basically intact*

1) gloaming. A digression

2) a historical debate. Grab your popcorn and an umbrella, because it's going to get bloody in here [infinite bonus points to he/she who can finish this sentence without google aid: "Academic disputes are so bitter..."] -- continental gets them, of course (he can exchange them for stale chewing gum and a dirty teddy bear any time he wants :P ) "... because there is so little at stake"

3) Time Must Have a Stop. Or not. A contemplation of shyness, embarrasment and beyond

4) When I grow up I'll be a singer. Wearing rings on every finger. [You had better be singing. As in, right now. Otherwise, I have much to teach you, my little grasshoppers] -- ... and?? are you?? singing??

5) Modesty and medium-headedness. Lack of in blogosphere. An apology

6) and the obvious, apostolic succession in Albania. Saving the best for last :D


Hope you enjoy!


1) I love how this word sounds. And I love what it means. Twilight is depressing. Gloaming is simply marvellous.
The gloaming in the city, when it's autumn and the air is cold and I'm looking at the water and it's almost black. Almost, but at the same time it shines with the residue of the sunset's light, and the gloom is settling in, but it's still not night and not quite day, and I wish I had a sweater, and the sea which is not really sea, but river, looks more like the rippling surface of a lake, and I sit and think about inconsequential things, and the goosebumps prevail and I start walking ever so slowly, and the ripples ripple, and the water grows blacker, and the lights begin to wake up, and the clouds drift, and the gloaming gloams, and sentences have no real end, only a drifting hush


2) What do you think? Did feudalism collapse as a result of its own internal crisis as a socio-economic structure, or did external forces and influences -- namely the changes brought on by the revolution in international commerce – provoke the collapse since feudalism itself was too static and rigid to evolve endogenously? Is the research made by non-Marxist historians to be relied on or should it be dismissed due to its lack of an underlying ideology that recognizes modes of production and economic relations thereof?
Did you stop reading after feudalism?

This is what I have been struggling painstakingly with these days: the debate to end all debates, the one that marked an era, that made you laugh, that made you cry, the ultimate coming-of-age debate, the one that you will remember always…

Do I even need to say it?

Come on, folks, let’s shout it out all together now!

IIIIIIIT’SSSS…

THE DOBB-SWEEZY DEBATE!!!!!!!

*the crowd goes wild* *mass hysteria* *men and children cry* *women simultaneously smile indulgently and gaze bravely into the distance* *an unidentifiable but pretty flag flutters in the distance* *uplifting music swells in the background*

I understand the fact that people may enjoy writing these things. I accept it. I don’t embrace it, because it’s a fact and they are not really open to embrace. I respect it, and I also understand, accept and respect the fact that other people might like to read about these things (yes, even those who did not write it or are closely related to those who did or were paid to edit it. We humans are funny that way. We like the oddest things).

But I don’t think it’s fair that I have to read it. I acknowledge that reading this teaches me a lot about human nature, and broadens my horizon regarding the objectives, methods and opinions of some fractions of academia. But, as for my learning anything worthwhile about feudalism itself and how it collapsed, try again.
Plus, at this rate, I’ll go completely blind by the age of forty (think badly-printed book with REALLY, HUMONGOUSLY small font. And then photocopy it with a bad-quality Xerox machine. And then photocopy the photocopy. And then read it).

On a serious note, I really wish that, whatever I end up doing in my life, I’ll never wake up one day and feel about what I’m doing the way I feel now about the Dobb-Sweezy debate.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, angels, it is time for all of us to go to bed. Don’t worry, we’ll continue tomorrow with the colourful tale of wondrous things, but jude is tired and long past her bedtime (not to mention her eyes are falling out… oh don’t worry, my darlings, she’s talking in the third person, so the goriness doesn’t count).


Good night, my loves!



*sings in a surreally sweet, low, and non-true-to-life voice “Swing low, sweet chariot // Coming for to carry me home…”*

aloha!

Please stay tuned. Scenes from the next episode of JESTER:

- gloaming. A digression

- a historical debate. Grab your popcorn and an umbrella, because it's going to get bloody in here [infinite bonus points to he/she who can finish this sentence without google aid: "Academic disputes are so bitter..."]

- Time Must Have a Stop. Or not. A contemplation of shyness, embarrasment and beyond

- When I grow up I'll be a singer. Wearing rings on every finger. [You had better be singing. As in, right now. Otherwise, I have much to teach you, my little grasshoppers]

- Modesty and medium-headedness. Lack of in blogosphere. An apology

- and the obvious, apostolic succession in Albania. Saving the best for last :D


aloha!

RSVP

It's raining. Not men. Just water. A lot of it.
Some would call it pouring. I would, too.
"It's pouring"
I like that word. "pouring"
It sounds very good in my head. Like "loop" and "wake". And "sleazy".


Turns out, this blog did not turn out quite like I had expected. I thought there were two options. One was that I would write two posts, never get noticed, and abandon it for good. The other was that it would magically become insanely popular and provoke mass hysteria. Well, not really, but you know what I mean.
As usual, the middle ground triumphed.
The unfortunate consequence is that now I'm hooked: between this and stalking msn in the hopes of finding my new-found latin american friends (the ones who took part in the competition I've been blabbering on about), I'm spending between 2 and 4 hours online each day. Over the Easter holidays, it was more like 5. That, to me, is depressing.
Plus I don't do much else than wander aimlessly through all of your blogs and then some (I'm watching you! *dark, suspicious, squinty stare*). Oh, right, and I also check my mail. A lot. A LOT.

Anyway. It's a conundrum. But the reason I'm wasting your time with all of this nonsense is that I thought: as long as I'm sitting here, I might as well actually blog, don't you think?


It's three in the afternoon and all the lights are on. It's positively gloomy. I'd enjoy it more without the splitting headache. I find that gloomy is really a very romantic state for someone who is as dorky as I am. In fact, Lady Day comes to mind yet again (i.e. Billie Holiday).


Come on, everybody, give me a hand. All I need is a topic and I can wax lyrical about it. Be it history, the Wiggles, ribbon candy, rain, Clementine, rabbits, folklore, breathmints, jesters, oil, chocolate, English, ...

*I am waiting for your love* (cue the dreadlocks)

Hullo!

This is just a short post (i.e. not a REAL, I sat down and thought half a minute before I wrote this, post).

You may or may not have noticed that, barring a fleeting reference to a butler, I have never recommended or linked to a blog (OK, not true, and if you are very bored you could point out all the instances in which it is not, but I don't think any of you have reached quite that boredom threshold yet -- and I hope you never will).

However, I recently discovered a blog that actually says something which I find really interesting and new and educational in a non-boring or newsy way. So I thought I'd share it with y'all, because I'm THAT generous. Plus, she said I had a lot of personality, or words to that effect, with which she pretty much sealed the deal :)
(yup. I'm that easy)

It's http://laika-the-space-dog.blogspot.com/, and you could do worse than read her comment on my moon post. Verry nice.


Oh, and don't be jealous, the rest of you. I'll gush over you in my next posts

;)

IEEEEEEE!!!

That anomaly is the Paraguayan pseudo-war cry. However, it's written phonetically in Spanish; to reproduce it in English you'd need to start with a slightly shrill "ee" and then follow it up with a squawky and *loud* “ehhhhh”. The actual Paraguayan instructions used the word “bloom” repeatedly, if that serves as further explanation.
Now the context is that the guys already came from Asunción (capital of Paraguay) yelling that, and their aim (which they fully achieved) was to make it the official scream of the whole challenge. By the end of the week, they were able to videotape all the organizers screaming “ieeeeeeee”, which was extremely funny to watch. And of course, when we got back to our country, we shouted the mandatory “ieeeee” at the airport. I think it’s safe to say that none of us was glad to be back home.

And, on that note, I come into the following topic, which is partially related: we didn’t want to come back because we were having so much fun as reigning queens of the hive. Seriously, we felt very much at the centre of the universe. Which is, of course, very pleasant; but it does raise some hairy (in a figurative sense ONLY) points regarding gender equality and respect, blah blah.
First of all, I think I should begin by saying that I do not consider myself a feminist. I simply believe strongly in equality across the board, and think that we should all strive to achieve that equality… No. Scratch that. You can do anything you like. I think that I should strive to achieve that equality inasmuch as I am able to.

But that’s flying off on a tangent (yet again). Going back to the trip, even though I had the time of my life, it was interesting to watch just how much everything revolved around us, and just how much that was directly correlated to our attributes as members of the “fairer sex” (PLEASE note the inverted commas). Even more annoying were the wink-wink nudge-nudge indulgent allusions made by some of the organizers (eg. At the awards ceremony, when I was about to speak: “and here comes a fraction of the loveliest part of the challenge!”). I’m not sure that I mentioned this before, but we lost. Therefore making the indulgent smiles all the wider and frankly disturbing, at least for me.

There is a deeper background here which I won’t get into, which has to do with a speech by one of the organizers in my country saying, amongst other lame-ass (yes, that is the only adjective for them) phrases: “I am perfectly comfortable with women doing the same things as men, in fact I think that women should do ANYthing, as long as they retain their feminine qualities. And which, you might ask, are those? Well, I think women become horrid he-things when they use swear words!! *laughs*”.
And, later on, “there is nothing uglier than a woman smoking in the street”. I don’t smoke, but I would seriously consider starting now! The saddest part of that anecdote is that the ONLY woman in the room at the time aside from us (who, OF COURSE, was in charge of pouring coffee), murmured “yes, I smoke, but I always hide away first so that no one will see me; women smoking in public… not nice” And she MEANT it!!!

Don’t get me started… this is depressing…


Tomorrow I'm going on a short vacation to the countryside, so I won't be coming back until Sunday, maybe Monday. Don't miss me! (too much, at least; I know I brighten your days immeasurably -- I came along, just like a song,// brightened your day// Who'd believe that I was part of a dream// Now it all seems light years away -- *hums horribly off-key*)

And since I'm feeling so musical today, I remembered (re: Sunday maybe Monday) something that I thought you might enjoy.
Check this out, it's in French but consists mostly of drawings, plus the song... I won't give it away. It's a VERY neat thingummy (just in case, you need to press on the arrow on the bottom-right corner of the screen for the 'pages' to turn):

http://desseins.fanzine.free.fr/article.php3?id_article=107&debut_image=0

(Patate Douce means "sweet potato")

Enjoy!

I've been told to give the travelogue thing a shot.
However, I just read JEP's account of gastronomic adventures in the Phillipines, and I'm afraid that nothing that happened to me last week is even remotely as funny and riveting as what he has to say (I don't have the link right here and wouldn't no how to attach it properly even if I had, but I strongly recommend that you check it out. It's in JEP's comment to my last post).

So, I think I'll just give you a quick run-through and then you, the sovereign public of this insignificant mumbling, can pick and choose what you want me to write about (and if I have to take a bit of creative license to properly respond to your requests, so be it. As the worthy sorta-Founding Father of my little South American country famously said: "My Authority Stems From You And Ceases Before Your Sovereign Presence" Quite the mouthful).

Without further ado, then, we have the categories:

• the weather (it rained) [I'm definitely putting my money on this one getting the most votes; it has such an outlandish, exotic aura surrounding it!]
• the food (kind of sucked, survived on Garotos -- which for the uninitiated might sound a bit weird since 'garoto' is portuguese for boy, but there's a simple explanation that I won't be revealing just yet, otherwise there's no point in this whole caboodle -- if that's the appropriate noun to describe this)
• the fact that we (my group) were five girls while the other teams put together made a round 20 guys from various corners of Latin America (and therefore we were the queens of the hive) [NOTE: this topic will probably include upon development several sundry reflections of a feminist nature. You have been warned]
• the paraguayan pseudo-war cry
• reflections upon the fact that I more or less pulled a dastardly betrayal on a friend and then proceeded to muddle it even further up with my usual cowardice and plain stupidity [though maybe I should save this for a future MySpace account, if I ever come to that]
• babbling on how abso-friggo-lutely AWESOME and OUT OF THIS WORLD the whole experience was, bla bla bla, and earnest statements regarding the crucial relevance of events such as these to foster integration and a sense of community to the youth of this continent, we are all connected, never will forget this, strive to make the world a better place, bla bla and BLA

Well, I'm sure I missed something along the way -- after all it was one long sleep-deprived canter of a week -- so for your convenience I am also inaugurating a free-for-all question extravaganza so that you can help me fill in the gaps.

Aren't I generous?? I know you love me... No autographs, please, and NO pushing

I went AWOL (which I only recently discovered means Away WithOut License) for a week, and it was probably this year's best week so far.
I don't really think anyone will be much interested in this information, but I'd love to share it if only to keep talking about it and feel even more depressed that it's over.
The plot itself is short and to the point: I won an entrepreneurial challenge (or something of the sort) with a few friends from school, and the prize was a week in Rio (de Janeiro) to participate in the Latin American finals.
We didn't win, not even close, but that was probably the LEAST important point in a huge LIST of points that make me wish very much that the whole get-together had lasted for a month, not a week.

I'm sorry. I was going to give the whole travelogue thing a shot, but I just don't know where to start. It was just AMAZING (and let it be said for the record that I loathe stupid superlatives, but right now they seem like the only choice), and of no interest to anyone but myself and those who were there.

I apologize. When I have quit whining and remembering and longing (which I hope will be soon enough), I'll come back with something light and funny.
Meanwhile, here's an actual butler's blog. Who knew?
http://www.abutlersdiary.blogspot.com