Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Right.
So.
Hi.
It's me.
Surprise.
Yeah, I know.
Whatever.
Look.
Things have been beyond ?able here at Life of Trillian.
But now I think maybe, possibly, and it frightens me to admit this because it's tempting the Universe, mocking it, even, but, let's just say it's within the realm of possibility things might actually end up okay.
Or, well, you know.
Par for my life's course.
A lot of weeks ago I went out with my ex ex boyfriend who was blowing through town. You know, drinks after not speaking to each other for over 9 years.
A bunch of stuff happened.
Yadda yadda yadda I won a karaoke tournament.
I think I'm still employed.
I established my new fitness goal: To make my Cheap Trick Cheap Trick Cheap Trick Cheap Trick Cheap Trick Cheap Trick Cheap Trick Cheap Trick t-shirt look good on me. I mean really good on me. 'Cuz I'm goin' to Lollapalooza and I wanna wear it and make all those little Weezer stoner boys and the broody emo boys want me bad.
Hey. At least I have a goal beyond staying breathing and employed. What are you working on this Summer?
Yes you. Your goal for the Summer. Setting a record for consecutive Star Wars viewings? (Don't forget your Storm Trooper suit. Might as well cross getting laid off your list of goals for this Summer while you're at it.) Camping out for the new Harry Potter? (Pre order online. Duh.) Creating a photographic diary of your shoes? (So last year. Hey wait a minute...you know that's not such a bad idea...)
Right.
So.
I'm crawling out of the pit of Hellfire and damnation that has been my life for the past few months and taking baby steps toward what I hope is the future.
Not exactly violently happy, but not exactly teetering on the brink of suicide, either, so you know, things are improving.
In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day.
Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees its close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night’s repose.
That's Fitzgerald and Longfellow in case you're wondering.
You never know what might save your life someday. Those words were swirling around in some nook of my gray matter and made themselves known at the very time I would need them. Sometimes the familiar or old takes on a whole new meaning and purpose. I'm not a huge Longfellow fan.
Rather I wasn't.
Now I am.
There's a lot of wisdom in those words for me. I mention this because someone might find the lesson useful. Not the Fitzgerald or Longfellow lessons. Those are my personal lessons. The bigger lesson I'm talking about is the one where you never know what's hidden away in your gray matter. Which is not only useful if you're going to be on Jeopardy! or just like showing off your ability to spit out bits of meaningless trivia confusing this ability with intelligence or wisdom, but because at some point in your life there will be words which will take on new, insightful, wise meaning to you. Maybe they'll save your life. Or maybe they'll make you laugh. Or maybe they'll make you cry. But they'll sound new and important and you'll be like one of those LSD trippers at Altamont, "heavy, like wow, man, that's so deep."
So if you're cramming for final lit exams, or suffering through another "talk" with your parents, or just wondering if it's all worth it, the fact, yes, fact, is that you never know when a few words will make the difference between life and death, so read the assignments, listen to your parents, and no, it's probably not all worth it, but, there are words which can ease the burden, take you from a suicidal Fitzgerald state to a wiser, oh just deal with it Longfellow state, and you never know what those words will be, so try to read and hear as many of them as you are able.
And thus concludes Trillian's observation on why words matter.
10:50 PM