Napping in the afternoon is actually quite stressful for me. I usually wake up during the warmest part of the day, when the sun is high above the sky. On Wednesday, I took such a nap, since fatigue had overwhelmed me. And during that time, I had quite a disturbing dream.
I was in what I assumed to be Korea, since I was on the run from ... something. The authorities, the mafia, or a gay perv, something. I'm running down the stairs in an area that's best described as resembling a certain city in FF12 (which is somewhat odd, since I haven't played that game recently). I find an old man to talk to, figuring that I'll be left alone if it looks like I know someone here. So, I chat and follow the old guy to his home. Apparently he's Korean, but knows a bit of Japanese and Mandarin. He prefers to speak in Mandarin because of painful memories associated with Japan, but I perfer to speak Japanese (but only minimally). We're sitting in the tea room of his home, when I hear someone come in from the outside. Apparently his daughter (or niece, granddaughter, etc) has come home, with a relatively large bag. And then, suddenly there are two voices that come from her direction. One is hers, but the other is "her younger brother". I go over to investigate, but see only her, and a medium-sized duffel bag. Apparently the "brother's" voice was coming from the bag. When I opened it to see, there was a spirit posessing a small figurine. The old man explains that everybody here [in Thailand] has a companion spirit-ancestor to help guide them in life. Being the devout Christian, the figurine/ghost starts reacting strangely. I then invoke the name of Jesus and command the demon to leave this house. My voice gets louder and louder, and the scene gets more and more violent. It was like a battle of territory; who had more influence on the immediate area -- my faith in Christ Jesus, or the devil? I think I successfully exorcised the demon before waking up.
Referrants? Many. From popular entertainment: FF12, Shaman King, Kekkaishi.
From real life: seeing a bag at night and thinking it was a ghost, socio-linguistic deduction (knowing that idol-worship/spirituality is high in Thailand; Japanese and Korean are linguistically similar; Mandarin is a popular choice for Korean nationals to learn as a second language).
The idea of demonic encounters frighten me. I remember hearing from a friend's mom that her faith in God was solidified only after rooming with a demonically posessed roommate. Personally, I'd rather not want to deal with it, and honestly, I don't feel I have that size of faith to exorcise demons. At least, not in the way that we're taught in sunday school. But maybe that's an excuse. Maybe I don't want to deal with demons because I know that it can only strengthen my faith in God. Or maybe, I'd be tempted to turn to the dark side...........
In other news, I bought most of my books early, so hopefully I'll be able to get a head start on some of my readings. Although I'm fairly confident that the two books I'm starting with won't be touched upon until near the end of the term, I'm interested in reading them because 1. they relate to Chinese-Canadians; and 2. both authors/books were recommended to me by my Postcolonial Literatures prof last term. Which is to say, Diamond Grill by Fred Wah, and Disappearing Moon Cafe by Sky Lee. Sky Lee's book has a family tree built in already, so I don't have to bother mapping out the relationships between characters. Yay!
Generally, I find that I need to map out these sorts of relationships. Especially for Cinnamon Gardens by Shyam Selvadurai. That book had 2 families that were related by a common great-grandfather, or something to that effect. It was a good book though. So, you kids out there with too much time, I highly recommend reading Cinnamon Gardens. It's a bit of a long read, but I managed to finish it in a day. Booyah! XD
2008/09/05
2008/08/21
Experience
William Blake said that Experience and Innocence are the two contrary states of the soul. Ah yes, to see my education actually working.
Anyway. Being the spiritually inclined person that I am, I tend to have friends and acquaintences who are also spiritual or religious. And sometimes, I ask questions about "the" religious experience. Who decides what's authentic and what's false testimony? All the Abrahamic religions claim divine revelation, but they can't all be right, right? And yet, the leaders in each sect is convinced and confident that he's doing God's bidding.
And as the leader of the sect, I guess it's pretty important to believe what you're doing is correct. At the very least, you can't be faulted for your motives. But people often do the same thing for what I suppose can only be a scaled equivalence for their own lives. Doctors diagnose with certain confidence because of their medical training, and literary critics assert their own theories with examples of writing.
But there is a difference between the evident, and a contrived pattern. Or, more specifically, there is a line between the quest for religiosity and self-delusion. Protestants joke about the Pope being a self-deluded cronie, whose years in the papacy have effectively brain-washed him into believing he was appointed by God. And I'm sure the Jewish are laughing at all of us for thinking the Messiah has already come.
But what about personal feelings? I have a friend, whom I'll call Durian (after an asian delicacy), who was convinced that God was telling him that a certain someone was to be his future mate (this mate I'll call Pineapple). I won't go into details, but basically, in the end, things didn't pan out. So does that mean God was lying? By definition God's infallible, so I don't think that's really possible. The conclusion, therefore, is that Durian was "praying" so hard, that he basically convinced himself, in a form of self-hypnosis, that what he wanted was a sign from the divine.
But despite my personal repugnance at the situation in general, I think this is a reality that everybody is succeptable to, regardless of their spiritual or religious inclinations. Just because we're talking in the realm of spirituality, it doesn't follow that the laws of physics and the observations of psychology don't apply anymore. We are still human, and we still have human psyches.
Anyway. Being the spiritually inclined person that I am, I tend to have friends and acquaintences who are also spiritual or religious. And sometimes, I ask questions about "the" religious experience. Who decides what's authentic and what's false testimony? All the Abrahamic religions claim divine revelation, but they can't all be right, right? And yet, the leaders in each sect is convinced and confident that he's doing God's bidding.
And as the leader of the sect, I guess it's pretty important to believe what you're doing is correct. At the very least, you can't be faulted for your motives. But people often do the same thing for what I suppose can only be a scaled equivalence for their own lives. Doctors diagnose with certain confidence because of their medical training, and literary critics assert their own theories with examples of writing.
But there is a difference between the evident, and a contrived pattern. Or, more specifically, there is a line between the quest for religiosity and self-delusion. Protestants joke about the Pope being a self-deluded cronie, whose years in the papacy have effectively brain-washed him into believing he was appointed by God. And I'm sure the Jewish are laughing at all of us for thinking the Messiah has already come.
But what about personal feelings? I have a friend, whom I'll call Durian (after an asian delicacy), who was convinced that God was telling him that a certain someone was to be his future mate (this mate I'll call Pineapple). I won't go into details, but basically, in the end, things didn't pan out. So does that mean God was lying? By definition God's infallible, so I don't think that's really possible. The conclusion, therefore, is that Durian was "praying" so hard, that he basically convinced himself, in a form of self-hypnosis, that what he wanted was a sign from the divine.
But despite my personal repugnance at the situation in general, I think this is a reality that everybody is succeptable to, regardless of their spiritual or religious inclinations. Just because we're talking in the realm of spirituality, it doesn't follow that the laws of physics and the observations of psychology don't apply anymore. We are still human, and we still have human psyches.
2008/04/16
Medieval Mess
So I'm mid-way through exams right now, having finished 2.5 of my 6 finals. (The 0.5 denotes the take-home exam I have until 3pm today to finish.) Yesterday was my Chaucer final, which was difficult! But I wasn't alone in my suffering; the two friends I made there apparently also struggled.
Anyway, after the exam, we received our term papers back. And I got a relatively good mark (82). My prof left some really funny comments though. Some of them were fairly legitimate, pointing out where I could have been more specific or accurate. But others just made me laugh. For one part, I wrote that Chaucer's Canterbury Tales was a credit to World Literature, being one of the few masterpieces that hold such a diverse collection of sociolects and social classes intermingling. And then I footnoted that with Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢), saying that it was another such example from Qing Chinese Literature. Prof writes: "Thanks for the ref."
My favourite, however, was in the concluding/general comments, wherein he wrote: "You display an odd mix of gorgeous writing and very sloppy errors. Proofread!" It was both flattering and embarrassing. The very sloppy errors mainly stem from the fact that half the essay was written in 3 hours the day that it was due. And these produced silly errors that a simple read-through would have caught. (Things like "by" instead "but"; "from" instead of "form"; punctuation before/after an end-quote.) But he still awarded me an 80+, so I suppose there was some merit to my mad ravings. The prof actually ended with "You have much potential in your prose," which made me smile. Also made me frown, because it meant I still have a ways to go before I achieve this hypothetical literary standard.
Anyway, after the exam, we received our term papers back. And I got a relatively good mark (82). My prof left some really funny comments though. Some of them were fairly legitimate, pointing out where I could have been more specific or accurate. But others just made me laugh. For one part, I wrote that Chaucer's Canterbury Tales was a credit to World Literature, being one of the few masterpieces that hold such a diverse collection of sociolects and social classes intermingling. And then I footnoted that with Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢), saying that it was another such example from Qing Chinese Literature. Prof writes: "Thanks for the ref."
My favourite, however, was in the concluding/general comments, wherein he wrote: "You display an odd mix of gorgeous writing and very sloppy errors. Proofread!" It was both flattering and embarrassing. The very sloppy errors mainly stem from the fact that half the essay was written in 3 hours the day that it was due. And these produced silly errors that a simple read-through would have caught. (Things like "by" instead "but"; "from" instead of "form"; punctuation before/after an end-quote.) But he still awarded me an 80+, so I suppose there was some merit to my mad ravings. The prof actually ended with "You have much potential in your prose," which made me smile. Also made me frown, because it meant I still have a ways to go before I achieve this hypothetical literary standard.
2008/03/20
Racism III
I *think* this is my third post on racism, but I can't be sure. Anyway.
My first term in English is almost over, and I gotta say, the range of profs for English are quite varied. Of course, most are ignorant of all topics aside from English, but one or two have theological backgrounds, which add some validity to their claims of religious context for older works (like Chaucer and the yet-to-take-place reformation).
A bit ironic then, that the prof with the thinnest veil on his religious beliefs is also the most biggoted one of all my classes this term.
I first met him individually two weeks into the term, because of my late registration into classes. I had wanted to see what I could do to catch up, and what other work needed to be done. We also spoke briefly about my personal life history, and of his religious beliefs. And even though I regularly talk to him after class to ask certain questions, he seems to refuse to acknowledge me in class. It's as if I'm invisible.
And true, it's not like we fought a war together, so it's understandable that he wouldn't remember me, but at the same time, my presence in class is strong enough that I should register on his radar more prevalently than certain other persons. And apparently I'm not the only one.
One time, when he was systematically forcing the entire class (moving along the rows) to answer questions, he noticed an asian girl (who ALWAYS has been sitting beside a vocal keener in the class, whose name the Prof does know). "Are you new to this class?" he asks, as if she had never been to lecture before.
This older caucasian professor often gives stories of his "friends", but always takes care to mention their ethnicity. Why is that important? And is it even appropriate to be telling someone else's lifestory RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, even if you don't name them?? "Some of you may have noticed the Sudanese who was here last class. She's the one I've mentioned before, who ____".
And it's obvious that he doesn't acknowledge his racism; intellectually he knows it's wrong (or at the very least, socially unaccepable), but emotionally he seems to lack the actual thought to see people as being equal.
Other things about him bug me, but I'll mention that in another post.
My first term in English is almost over, and I gotta say, the range of profs for English are quite varied. Of course, most are ignorant of all topics aside from English, but one or two have theological backgrounds, which add some validity to their claims of religious context for older works (like Chaucer and the yet-to-take-place reformation).
A bit ironic then, that the prof with the thinnest veil on his religious beliefs is also the most biggoted one of all my classes this term.
I first met him individually two weeks into the term, because of my late registration into classes. I had wanted to see what I could do to catch up, and what other work needed to be done. We also spoke briefly about my personal life history, and of his religious beliefs. And even though I regularly talk to him after class to ask certain questions, he seems to refuse to acknowledge me in class. It's as if I'm invisible.
And true, it's not like we fought a war together, so it's understandable that he wouldn't remember me, but at the same time, my presence in class is strong enough that I should register on his radar more prevalently than certain other persons. And apparently I'm not the only one.
One time, when he was systematically forcing the entire class (moving along the rows) to answer questions, he noticed an asian girl (who ALWAYS has been sitting beside a vocal keener in the class, whose name the Prof does know). "Are you new to this class?" he asks, as if she had never been to lecture before.
This older caucasian professor often gives stories of his "friends", but always takes care to mention their ethnicity. Why is that important? And is it even appropriate to be telling someone else's lifestory RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, even if you don't name them?? "Some of you may have noticed the Sudanese who was here last class. She's the one I've mentioned before, who ____".
And it's obvious that he doesn't acknowledge his racism; intellectually he knows it's wrong (or at the very least, socially unaccepable), but emotionally he seems to lack the actual thought to see people as being equal.
Other things about him bug me, but I'll mention that in another post.
Originality and Individuality
Everybody is unique. (At the very least, on a genetic level, but let's be optimistic and assume that on a personal level they're unique as well.) Some people, however, seem to care more about their uniqueness than others. And then, of course, there are those who are content to be one of the crowd, the faceless, nameless collective.
I think, given my level of self-awareness, it's sufficiently fair to say that I'm a pretty unique individual. My sense of fashion isn't average, nor are my interests, my use of language, my posture, my personality, etc...
And maybe it's because of this degree of uniqueness that people always try to find similarities between me and other people they encounter. Which, in itself, is fair enough. Everybody relates everybody they know to other people they know in order to better archive a mental/social map of their friends.
But is it really necessary to make that remark to other people? I find that there's a thin line between "I think you would get along with another friend of mine because of ____" and "Wow. You remind me so much of this other person". The first is neutral; the second offends the individuality of the person.
For several years now, people have always been reporting to me these sightings of alleged lookalikes that they encounter on the street, or in school or wherever. It's even better when these sightings occur on facebook, and the lookalike ends up looking worse than you do. Then you start to wonder how your friends see you anyway.
I don't mind categorizing people [mentally], but I do take issue with trivializing people. There's a difference between saying "You're a science student, and therefore would likely have a better idea of what constitutes an allele" and "You're a science student, and therefore must suck at language".
So in future, if you find that I echo someone else in your life, or some fictional character, take care that your expression of this observation or yours stays at that level of observance instead of threatening the individuality of the person.
Garrgh.
I think, given my level of self-awareness, it's sufficiently fair to say that I'm a pretty unique individual. My sense of fashion isn't average, nor are my interests, my use of language, my posture, my personality, etc...
And maybe it's because of this degree of uniqueness that people always try to find similarities between me and other people they encounter. Which, in itself, is fair enough. Everybody relates everybody they know to other people they know in order to better archive a mental/social map of their friends.
But is it really necessary to make that remark to other people? I find that there's a thin line between "I think you would get along with another friend of mine because of ____" and "Wow. You remind me so much of this other person". The first is neutral; the second offends the individuality of the person.
For several years now, people have always been reporting to me these sightings of alleged lookalikes that they encounter on the street, or in school or wherever. It's even better when these sightings occur on facebook, and the lookalike ends up looking worse than you do. Then you start to wonder how your friends see you anyway.
I don't mind categorizing people [mentally], but I do take issue with trivializing people. There's a difference between saying "You're a science student, and therefore would likely have a better idea of what constitutes an allele" and "You're a science student, and therefore must suck at language".
So in future, if you find that I echo someone else in your life, or some fictional character, take care that your expression of this observation or yours stays at that level of observance instead of threatening the individuality of the person.
Garrgh.
2008/03/07
Dis-eased
Interestingly enough, the current word "disease" used to come from "dis-ease" as in "not at ease; uncomfortable". It was then expanded and redefined to mean the disorder or abnormal condition of the body or its parts.
Anyway. It's 1:25am right now, and I've been at school for the past 40 minutes. A noisy ruckus woke me up at around 22:00, and it persisted through 00:30am, so I figured I'd get some work done at least, and some peace & quiet at school.
And now that I'm at school, I truly am at peace. Only problem is, I'm oddly unmotivated to do my work now. I suppose I require some level of frustration in order to function.
Halfway through the three-act play I should have read last weekend. Hopefully this weekend I'll remember to do some proper work, finish my readings, and start some essay drafts.
Anyway. It's 1:25am right now, and I've been at school for the past 40 minutes. A noisy ruckus woke me up at around 22:00, and it persisted through 00:30am, so I figured I'd get some work done at least, and some peace & quiet at school.
And now that I'm at school, I truly am at peace. Only problem is, I'm oddly unmotivated to do my work now. I suppose I require some level of frustration in order to function.
Halfway through the three-act play I should have read last weekend. Hopefully this weekend I'll remember to do some proper work, finish my readings, and start some essay drafts.
2008/02/25
Too Rich for Words
This is too funny.
Yesterday afternoon, my prof sends an email to our class, telling us about a plot summary he's posted on the course website (probably predicting accurately that none of us have bothered to read the book over reading week).
From experience, I tend to prefer online notes, if only because they know how to justify text, and play with margin settings. My dear of prof, on the other hand, will use a million spaces to get a word onto the next line.
So, I naturally drift to sparknotes.com, the seemingly staple for student research. I read their synopsis, then later go to the course website and download the .doc of the prof's summary. It was exactly the same.
Now, one could generously assume that the professor made a contribution to sparknotes.com, lending the site a bit more credibility, but knowing the prof, I'm willing to guess that he probably just pulled the summary from the website, pasted it into MS Word, and then posted that onto the course website.
Seems like a full novel though; I'll have to properly read it this week...
I always try to end these posts with a fun fact, but nothing's coming to mind at 7:51am. Oh well. Oh! I know! I'm getting a laptop this week! Brand-new from Dell. Inspiron 1525. With a fancy, swirly pattern instead of the dull monochrome colours. Even if solid colours *do* make the laptop look more professional. lalala...
Yesterday afternoon, my prof sends an email to our class, telling us about a plot summary he's posted on the course website (probably predicting accurately that none of us have bothered to read the book over reading week).
From experience, I tend to prefer online notes, if only because they know how to justify text, and play with margin settings. My dear of prof, on the other hand, will use a million spaces to get a word onto the next line.
So, I naturally drift to sparknotes.com, the seemingly staple for student research. I read their synopsis, then later go to the course website and download the .doc of the prof's summary. It was exactly the same.
Now, one could generously assume that the professor made a contribution to sparknotes.com, lending the site a bit more credibility, but knowing the prof, I'm willing to guess that he probably just pulled the summary from the website, pasted it into MS Word, and then posted that onto the course website.
Seems like a full novel though; I'll have to properly read it this week...
I always try to end these posts with a fun fact, but nothing's coming to mind at 7:51am. Oh well. Oh! I know! I'm getting a laptop this week! Brand-new from Dell. Inspiron 1525. With a fancy, swirly pattern instead of the dull monochrome colours. Even if solid colours *do* make the laptop look more professional. lalala...
2008/02/21
Ha-Ha Happy
Why do people laugh? One anthropological theory says that perhaps it was originally a sort of alarm system, alerting the other lemurs (or whatever we were), that there was no real danger; false alarm, etc. Although I don't completely support this theory, I can see the logic in it. Often, after a false scare, we tend to react in laughter, partly to ease ourselves, and partly to ease those around us.
But laughter is a response to many things. Humour is the dominant source in our modern culture, and the other possible causes (nitrous oxide, for example) tend to be discounted immediately.
However, there is yet another form of laughter -- that of happiness and celebration. People laugh when they're happy. But people don't seem to get that whenever I laugh. Is my laugh particularly malicious or something?
Anyway. If you hear me laugh at something you say, it means I'm entertained. I'm not the sort who would [openly] laugh at someone else's idiocy or ignorance. Unless it's already been established that I *really* don't like the person. Then maybe. hrmm....
Fun fact of the day: I've secretly had astigmatism for a while (in the order of years), but the Chinese optometrists didn't bother to mention it to me. Or didn't bother to test for it. The cheap bastards. And they wonder why North Americans are so hung up on proper procedure and regulations.
But laughter is a response to many things. Humour is the dominant source in our modern culture, and the other possible causes (nitrous oxide, for example) tend to be discounted immediately.
However, there is yet another form of laughter -- that of happiness and celebration. People laugh when they're happy. But people don't seem to get that whenever I laugh. Is my laugh particularly malicious or something?
Anyway. If you hear me laugh at something you say, it means I'm entertained. I'm not the sort who would [openly] laugh at someone else's idiocy or ignorance. Unless it's already been established that I *really* don't like the person. Then maybe. hrmm....
Fun fact of the day: I've secretly had astigmatism for a while (in the order of years), but the Chinese optometrists didn't bother to mention it to me. Or didn't bother to test for it. The cheap bastards. And they wonder why North Americans are so hung up on proper procedure and regulations.
2008/02/08
Cohabitants
One thing I was reminded of when I moved back to University, was getting used to living with new people. Different living habits, sleeping schedules, standard of hygiene...
There should be some sort of national health service announcement regarding the dangers of listening to amplified lower frequencies for extended periods of time. The number of males who voluntarily (and I assume ignorantly) decrease their hearing everyday might benefit from such intelligence. And there might be a revolution in the theatre industry as well! Then everybody will be able to go see movies at reasonable volumes.
On the subject of people though, I'm often seeing how others interact with each other. So far as I can currently imagine, there are three basic types of people: those who inspire, those who encourage, and those who disgust. Of course, this is all relative to a given individual, so results will vary between people. :)
After watching various videos of Kenneth Williams on youtube, I started to think about my own relationship with my friends. I'm conscious and aware of the sort of person I am -- at least, to the people I know. The ultimate person seems to be he who can draw the best qualities in people. Someone who is filled with light or bright or some sort of positive energy. It draws people toward him, and he can in turn cause others to do things better.
And then there's me. I either build delicate bonds between people I deem "worthy" (usually through some merit of information or interest), or I sever all possible modes of conduct with those I deem "undesirable" (generally those who lack any intelligence or ability).
But it is this classic character flaw which usually draws supporters from the bad guy (me) to the hero (whoever my arch-nemesis might be). Knowing this, I wonder how I can possibly change to be more accepting of people. After all, mere tolerance does nothing. It seems to be a popular byword in American politics when describing the improvement between ethnic groups, but I think *acceptance* is really the word they're looking for. The idea isn't to merely build an immunity to the foreign influences of the differing groups, but the find a way to integrate them all into a grand national community.
Meanwhile, Valentine's Day is soon upon us. Wo ist mein Herz?
There should be some sort of national health service announcement regarding the dangers of listening to amplified lower frequencies for extended periods of time. The number of males who voluntarily (and I assume ignorantly) decrease their hearing everyday might benefit from such intelligence. And there might be a revolution in the theatre industry as well! Then everybody will be able to go see movies at reasonable volumes.
On the subject of people though, I'm often seeing how others interact with each other. So far as I can currently imagine, there are three basic types of people: those who inspire, those who encourage, and those who disgust. Of course, this is all relative to a given individual, so results will vary between people. :)
After watching various videos of Kenneth Williams on youtube, I started to think about my own relationship with my friends. I'm conscious and aware of the sort of person I am -- at least, to the people I know. The ultimate person seems to be he who can draw the best qualities in people. Someone who is filled with light or bright or some sort of positive energy. It draws people toward him, and he can in turn cause others to do things better.
And then there's me. I either build delicate bonds between people I deem "worthy" (usually through some merit of information or interest), or I sever all possible modes of conduct with those I deem "undesirable" (generally those who lack any intelligence or ability).
But it is this classic character flaw which usually draws supporters from the bad guy (me) to the hero (whoever my arch-nemesis might be). Knowing this, I wonder how I can possibly change to be more accepting of people. After all, mere tolerance does nothing. It seems to be a popular byword in American politics when describing the improvement between ethnic groups, but I think *acceptance* is really the word they're looking for. The idea isn't to merely build an immunity to the foreign influences of the differing groups, but the find a way to integrate them all into a grand national community.
Meanwhile, Valentine's Day is soon upon us. Wo ist mein Herz?
2008/02/06
Mid-English
As most readers of this blog should know by now, I'm back in school, with a view to change majors into English, and currently taking 6 courses (which in my school is 120% course load).
Having little experience with Uni English, and being a sort of outsider, as well as joining late, I had some reservations and doubts about whether I'd be able to succeed or not. But now, about a third into the term, I can confidently say that my expectations are totally reversed. My 4th-yr brit. lit. course isn't too bad, so long as I keep on top of my readings and pay attention in class (and since the profs are cool, I don't have a disinclination to attend lectures). And I suppose that's generally true for any course. I'm surprised by the number of people who still don't maintain their readings, even into 3rd or 4th year. Sorta makes one wonder the sort of people in business or politics who're expected to read these hundred-page reports about policy.
One thing that really struck me was the huge difference in ethnic distribution between my math classes of 1st-yr, and of my current English classes. In math, there was usually somewhere between 50~80% asian (although, oddly enough, in the advanced courses, there were more caucasians, most of european birth). I was sorta used to seeing the diversity; it was like being in Toronto, or high school. But now with the English classes, I'm back to being a stark, visible minority. Some of the profs I've talked to seem to have held some reservations about me joining their classes, from some sort of subconscious reservations about having non-native english speakers in their class. (Is my voice really that nasally!?!? I'm wondering if I subconsciously soften my voice by making it more nasal as a sort of respect, versus a regular gruffer voice which I'd reserve for friends. ....Although my voice isn't really gruff to begin with...)
It's fun though. Speech errors are much less common in class, and dialects are more subtle. One thing I have to watch out for that I never needed to in math, are the angry lesbians. They seem to have some sort of vendetta against male-kind. As if they could ever hope to regress into asexual, single-cellular organisms. "Sorry toots, you're stuck with us!"
Alright. 7am. Time to go to school!
Having little experience with Uni English, and being a sort of outsider, as well as joining late, I had some reservations and doubts about whether I'd be able to succeed or not. But now, about a third into the term, I can confidently say that my expectations are totally reversed. My 4th-yr brit. lit. course isn't too bad, so long as I keep on top of my readings and pay attention in class (and since the profs are cool, I don't have a disinclination to attend lectures). And I suppose that's generally true for any course. I'm surprised by the number of people who still don't maintain their readings, even into 3rd or 4th year. Sorta makes one wonder the sort of people in business or politics who're expected to read these hundred-page reports about policy.
One thing that really struck me was the huge difference in ethnic distribution between my math classes of 1st-yr, and of my current English classes. In math, there was usually somewhere between 50~80% asian (although, oddly enough, in the advanced courses, there were more caucasians, most of european birth). I was sorta used to seeing the diversity; it was like being in Toronto, or high school. But now with the English classes, I'm back to being a stark, visible minority. Some of the profs I've talked to seem to have held some reservations about me joining their classes, from some sort of subconscious reservations about having non-native english speakers in their class. (Is my voice really that nasally!?!? I'm wondering if I subconsciously soften my voice by making it more nasal as a sort of respect, versus a regular gruffer voice which I'd reserve for friends. ....Although my voice isn't really gruff to begin with...)
It's fun though. Speech errors are much less common in class, and dialects are more subtle. One thing I have to watch out for that I never needed to in math, are the angry lesbians. They seem to have some sort of vendetta against male-kind. As if they could ever hope to regress into asexual, single-cellular organisms. "Sorry toots, you're stuck with us!"
Alright. 7am. Time to go to school!
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