Today’s red dress, sweater, glasses and bright-ass red lipstick apparently draw attention to my careless attempt to look good while also not really giving a contention of a hoot. However the true reason I peeled off my sweatpants and put on a dress today is simply due to my neurotic principle to always wear something besides pajamas to school. Not that there’s anything wrong with wearing sweatpants to class, but I don’t want to give anyone the impression that I spent the weekend glued to my laptop clad in such garb. Even if that is the real truth of the matter.
Why was I glued to my MacBook? Because I was writing two good papers:
Kronos to Ka-El: Eluding Essence of the Hero Myth in Western Culture
Death of the Sun: The Roles of Power and Fear at Chankpe Opi Wakpala
Chankpe Opi Wakpala is Wounded Knee Creek in Lakota, Sioux, by the way. And this diction was chosen appropriately so; I truly attempted to write with an objective, historical scope while also arguing against previous literature on the subject of the Wounded Knee Massacre that most of mainstream America accepts as the truth.
Fact: L. Frank Baum, author of the Wizard of Oz, called for the “extermination [sic] of the Indian”
Perhaps that’s the true reason for my appearance today: Writing good papers makes me feel awesome, and today I kinda feel about as bad-ass as Iris Apfel. Or at least how I imagine her to feel when she wakes up every morning, although it is much more likely that she feels like crapola until she takes her Ensure and glucosamine (the [super]woman is in her nineties and is still going). No, no, no! Forget that, just humor my delusions that I am a bad-ass for one morning. Thanks.
The latter of the papers was the particular kind that makes the writer work- researching the annals of databases in attempt to find the best sources that pinpoint his or her thesis; alternatively, it was the kind of paper that demanded my upmost attention, grooming, and nurturing (and surrender of my social life).
The other paper loosely examines and contrasts ancient heroes with modern superheroes. Ultimately, it questions the function of the hero in Western society… and of course this question remains unanswered. Honestly, most of my life I’ve never understood the whole superhero thing. But maybe I actually sort of do; hence the buoyantly chosen apparel and matching attitude this morning. Before my confidence gets too bloated and I make too big a deal of my super academic toilings, (or for that matter, use any more stupid puns) please - for the love of all attempts to obtain wisdom, show compassion, and/or quell boredom- read and critique my term paper.
(By 3:30 today pretty please; my class is at 4)Posted on April 23rd at 12:15 PM
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