I Don't Get It

Holy Moly I haven't put up a post in such a long time. But I have an hour to kill before my urbanization class and decided this is better than listening to music or reading my book.

Recently I went to see a play staring the Devine Miss Jennifer 'Bella' White in "7 Deadly Monsters". Miss White was a phenom but I walked out of the play with

<- this look on my face.

I didn't get it...I got small bits and pieces. I laughed at the funny parts and enjoyed the subtle humor. But in the end, I didn't get a real understanding of what was going on. Jamie got it. He was able to explain to me. Him and Bella joked about how where Jamie understood that "Monster" meant the emotions we hate but can't live without I was thinking about how I could build something to save the people from the monsters.

While walking around York U, Jamie was skipping down Nostalgia Lane remembering his times in Drama class where he hilariously changed a military macho man scene into two fags gabby about the high school dreamboat. Fucking brillance! I could tell that Jamie was feeling not so much blue but more that he wished he had taken one or two more drama classes.

My response to him wishing he had done more while in school - "So take a drama course at a community college" Jamie gave the response we all do when told we should do more school (especially when it's not needed) "Yeah I could" which mean he wouldn't and then I concluded with "And that's that. This closes the chapter in Jamie's life according to the black and white book of Darek."

I've always found this is the case in these kinds of situations all of my life - when there's a choice between logic/pragmaticism and artistic expression/understanding, I choose logic . Where some people excel in English or Literature - I don't. I got math, I got chemistry, I got physics. I can write and read. I can identify imagery in a book - hell even respect it if it's incredibly well written. But put me in a room where the term "Monster" doesn't mean "Monster" and it's all over.

In OAC English, one of the 6 books we had to read in the term was "Stone Angel" by Margaret Lawerence. One of the worst books I have ever read in my life. Where Aldous Huxley's Brave New World was something I simply didn't enjoy and forced myself to read in 3 days to "get it out of the way" - Stone Angel was a complete and total snore.

I will always remember one defining scene in my life in class where my teacher Mr. Bonnah wanted us to discuss one scene in the book. The scene was when the main character, Hagar, an elderly lady upset at the world, farts in her chair, mentions she's farted and goes off on this diatribe about how shitty her life is.

So all the more artistic-inclined people in my little group discussed how she farted was a symbol because "society" had turned it's back on her and the farting act "symbolizes" that Hagar is a symbol of how the world doesn't care for it's elderly.

I said "She's led a long life, had children, has grandchildren - she's earn the right to fart in public and not give two shits what the world thinks" - my group didn't agree, we went with the "artistic" expression in the main class discussion and my teacher nodded in approval. I'm sure they were right - I just hate knowing that for some reason their interpretation is more "right" than mine.

I may not be the best engineering student or have that much respect for the profession; Hell I'm writing a novel myself and love to read. But I like the right/wrong answer approach. I hate that people think I'm going to be a snob when they tell me what their major is after learning I'm in Civil Engineering. I may not get how someone can fail "The History of Basket Weaving" but hell if studying The Psychology of Russian Literature and it's Progression into the Ukranian Psyche floats your boat, float on!

Just don't assume because I look for a solution to a problem as opposed to trying to understand why a solution is needed or if the problem is really a problem and the real problem is people thinking something is a problem in the first place that I can't be artistic, appreciate a good piece of music and snap with all the hipster cool hipsters at a gothic poetry reading.