Poem: Telemachus

Telemachus
(based on 'Ulysses' by Tennyson)

It profits little that a seasoned youth
In this moldering place, amid these sterile walls,
Does fret and idle his childhood away
Knotted in the snare of troubled lives,
which pass, and stare, and sit, and feel not me.
I will not cease my vifor; I will be
All that I will be. All things I have known
Quickly, have tired quickly, both with those
Living my life, and not; in truth, and in
Dreamy visions in thoughtless eyes looking
Away from here. I will be become a name;
For always empty for a noble cause
For much I have hungered; a weakened heart,
And substance, firmness, essence, presence
Myself amid, and dissolved in it all.
I am apart from all I have known;
And all future is a space aloft as
There through shines an unforeseen world, that shrinks
Infinitesimal, lost as I reach
How sad it is to die
To crumble untested, and never freed!
As though to sigh were breath! Sigh blowing sigh
Were all nothing, and still nothing to me
Releases breath; but every moment saves
From that eternal graveyard some lost life,
For I have not yet what I will becomes
in life past by, that which I'm not I will be:
One pulsing for of solitary will,
Kept weak by youth and age, but alive in heart
to live, to stretch, to fly, and not to fail.

Pas les temps

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an ambitious college student in pursuit of a successful academic and professional career must be in want of one thing: T I M E. (And no not the publication, nit wits.)

The Guess Who's 1970 "No Time" ought to be the official anthem for driven scholars at any prestigious institution of higher learning. We are all screaming the "I got got got got no time! I got got got got not time!" that leads the song out whether internally or externally. Except in this day and age, the You who we've got no time for is no longer some spurred ex, but instead is us, the driven scholars. We've got no time for ourselves.

As my workload begins to mutate monstrously and take on a life and destiny of its own, it's the basic things that get squeezed out. Sleep being the least of these.

Chatting with a friend as we hurried ourselves into a required 8pm screening of British General Post Office short films from the 1930s, I recounted with a genuine sense of glee and luxury, "I actually got to eat dinner today! It was so exciting!" and my friend express her jealousy of my good fortune. A little professor's wife in the aisle in front of us turned around and gave me a haughty look of disparagement. It made me pause and register just how ludicrous my statement was. I'm sure from her uninformed perspective, I sounded like some ditsy 'fashion merchandising' major in the fast lane to anorexia, but in actuality, most of us just no longer can afford to allot the 15 minutes required for dinner. And it is a sad comment on my life.

But it gets worse. This few mornings ago I actually took a moment to look at my reflection as I brushed my teeth, and realized with a sinking feeling in my stomach that I needed to pluck my eye-brows. I wracked my brains as to when I would have time to take care of this. I toyed with the possibility of taking the time out of my 10 minute breakfast, but opted to count it as a 'study break' later in the afternoon. As I recounted this to my sister on the phone (factored into my schedule three days beforehand), I expressed my astonishment at how I had managed to actually do my makeup every day last year--- something which I have since given up. Freshman year, doing my hair went. Sophomore year, eating lunch went. Junior year, exercising went. Senior year, nearly all forms of physical maintenance are going as I struggle to squeeze showering in.

Is this really how we are meant to live? When we cannot eat, sleep, talk to our family members on the phone, pluck our eyebrows, put on make-up or shave our legs (something that men should appreciate they do not have to worry about if only from a scheduling perspective), much less shop for new jeans when the ones we have are literally falling apart, without a paralyzing fear of getting behind schedule? Somehow I think we were not meant to grow up to be slave to our calendars. It tempts one to look up at the sky and scream "Where did it all go wrong?" Maybe if we could think of some answers to that question, we would have a fighting chance. But we just haven't got the time.

Les novelles britanniques

So random but oh so fantastic bits of news for those of you interested in the goings on in the British entertainment world (and yes some of this is so last month, but I've just heard of it):

(1) Michael Sheen is in the much anticipated New Moon. Isn't he just precious!?!



I mean, he already had a few nice roles in, oh, I don't know, Bright Young Things, The Queen, and Frost/Nixon but this will really kick-off his career.

(2) My much beloved Primeval has negotiated itself back to life after an apparently unprecedented routine of corporate acrobatics. We could even go so far as to call it an **anomaly** (Har har har). The powers that be have also taken steps to "ensure that the spectacular special effects that have made Primeval such a huge success will continue throughout the new season." Cuz where would we be without those? Oh time traveling dinosaur show. We love you.

(3) Gavin & Stacey, which has managed to remain frustratingly absent from youtube, has been picked up by ABC. Thank God!

(4) Russell Brand is in love with Katy Perry. They are dating. It is magical.

As someone who in a fit of madness actually read two thirds of Brand's remarkably enjoyable autobiography this summer, this bit of celebrity gossip cannot help but make me go "Awwwwwww." Despite his being blatantly un-PC and vile, the Western mainstream media consumer still seams to adore him--- as if we know that underneath that gruff sex and drug addicted exterior is a just a quirky, talented teddy bear. (To be quite honest, his book does revealing as quite a lot more lucid and sensitive than he may appear.)

If love of a good woman can turn Brand from his nefarious and self-gratifying ways, well then what more evidence do we need that love conquers all and that there just might be hope for the rest of us?

To the happy couple!