Thursday, February 9

A Note

So I decided to name my blog with no real thought at all. It would be a spontaneity exercise. You see I tend to labor over the naming of things. Names have an innate ability to focus the idea they represent and for me anyway the sound of words coming together is just as important as the meaning. Language is music. Music is language. Therefore my blog's name should (it would stand to reason) be pithy and melodic. This challenge usually proves to much of a strain on my rarely original brain. So, to not stress about it and to force spontaneity (which I think is kind of a funny idea) I went with the first thing I saw. It was a quote from the CD pamphlet of the Jesus and Mary Chain. It read "Before we were men we were boy, before we were boys we were gods, and before we were gods we were filth cursing at the sky. And when all is said and done nothing much is left." I thought the quote poetic and intriguing. Since for me good = amused or intrigued I threw it in. However I think the title might be misleading upon further consideration. I don't think that human kind was ever godlike and it either implies religiosity or melodramatic hyperbole. Both of which I posses, to a certain degree, but it is not something I want to convey. Therefore when your reading this post it might strike you as odd that the title of the blog is "Morning of Forced Leisure." Don't be alarmed. I changed the name.
Funny story as to the origin of the new title. I was taking Russian last semester and the class schedule led me to believe it only met on Friday. However it also met on Saturday...very very early. This of course made me not want to attend the class, as I have trust issues and do not like to be lied to. That or I was lazy. You decide. Anyway I live at home and have parents that nag. So sleeping through half of the classes in the semester was not an option. However neither was going to Russian class at 9:00am. So of course I dropped the class and, so as not to upset my delicate domestic tranquility, woke up at 8:45 every Saturday and went to a lovely local cafe (you may have heard of it...Starbucks) and sipped coffee, read the paper and gazed sleepily at the "morning people." To get to the fucking point of this whole story a friend of mine always wondered why I was so tired later that night, to which I replied "It's my morning of forced leisure." Self imposed might be more accurate but I thought "forced" was pithier...

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