Collections Agency
I am a packrat.
It's genetic, I've decided, because my dad is, my grandpa (dad's side) is, and by all indications, my great-grandparents were, too. Because of this, I collect things. I'm able to fight the urge, most of the time, and limit my collections to things like music (which I have a lot of, but hardly any recent because record labels insist on CHARGING for music, which Bob Dylan says isn't worth anything in the first place), comics (I haven't bought a new comic since 2004, which is very sad for me...stupid no money), and movies (though most of the new acquisitions have been for Aaron, not me). However, I've noticed that it seems I have started a new collection. I'm not really sure how to account for it, except that it was readily available anyway, and, in light of my genetic condition, how long could I really have held out?
I've started collecting writings.
Not books, mind you. I have books, but not that many, most either by Raymond E. Feist or some Star Wars author. The writings I've started collecting are essays. Nothing academic, that'd bore me. No, I've started collecting the little throw-away essays, usually found on the last page of Time or Newsweek. I was rather amused by one on giving Pluto the boot, and one of the newest additions is a tongue-in-cheek essay by Joel Stein on how maybe Jewish people have brought anti-Semitism on themselves (keep in mind that Joel Stein is Jewish).
I don't know that I'd call them humorous, though I do find most of the ones that I actually collect amusing. I think what is actually drawing me to them is that they're well written, yet, completely worthless. Basically, it's the same as what I try to do here, except these guys are getting paid to do it.
That was something another of the authors said (not in reference to me, but to a blogger who was his "arch-nemesis").
I like writing that doesn't take itself too seriously. Academia is all fine and well, so long as you have a phD or your head parked firmly in your hind quarters, but you can keep it. The news has a great deal of value, too. I keep articles that I find interesting so that, some day, I can use them as fodder for Sunday School lessons (I mentioned that I teach the college class at my church, right? I've been doing it for a year now, surely I have...). But, after I use them, I really have no purpose for them and away they go. No, writing that has value for me has no real value at all. It's just shooting the breeze, printed, delivered, and waiting on my coffee table for my wife to "encourage" me to sort it out and get rid of the excess. Besides, after you've finished college, you've already read enough academic nonsense that you really shouldn't be required to put up with any more.
Except in cases, like mine, when you didn't do much of the reading at all.
It's genetic, I've decided, because my dad is, my grandpa (dad's side) is, and by all indications, my great-grandparents were, too. Because of this, I collect things. I'm able to fight the urge, most of the time, and limit my collections to things like music (which I have a lot of, but hardly any recent because record labels insist on CHARGING for music, which Bob Dylan says isn't worth anything in the first place), comics (I haven't bought a new comic since 2004, which is very sad for me...stupid no money), and movies (though most of the new acquisitions have been for Aaron, not me). However, I've noticed that it seems I have started a new collection. I'm not really sure how to account for it, except that it was readily available anyway, and, in light of my genetic condition, how long could I really have held out?
I've started collecting writings.
Not books, mind you. I have books, but not that many, most either by Raymond E. Feist or some Star Wars author. The writings I've started collecting are essays. Nothing academic, that'd bore me. No, I've started collecting the little throw-away essays, usually found on the last page of Time or Newsweek. I was rather amused by one on giving Pluto the boot, and one of the newest additions is a tongue-in-cheek essay by Joel Stein on how maybe Jewish people have brought anti-Semitism on themselves (keep in mind that Joel Stein is Jewish).
I don't know that I'd call them humorous, though I do find most of the ones that I actually collect amusing. I think what is actually drawing me to them is that they're well written, yet, completely worthless. Basically, it's the same as what I try to do here, except these guys are getting paid to do it.
That was something another of the authors said (not in reference to me, but to a blogger who was his "arch-nemesis").
I like writing that doesn't take itself too seriously. Academia is all fine and well, so long as you have a phD or your head parked firmly in your hind quarters, but you can keep it. The news has a great deal of value, too. I keep articles that I find interesting so that, some day, I can use them as fodder for Sunday School lessons (I mentioned that I teach the college class at my church, right? I've been doing it for a year now, surely I have...). But, after I use them, I really have no purpose for them and away they go. No, writing that has value for me has no real value at all. It's just shooting the breeze, printed, delivered, and waiting on my coffee table for my wife to "encourage" me to sort it out and get rid of the excess. Besides, after you've finished college, you've already read enough academic nonsense that you really shouldn't be required to put up with any more.
Except in cases, like mine, when you didn't do much of the reading at all.
Labels: Stuff
posted by Noise Monkey at 9:38 AM
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