in which big, pretentious words henceforth become ineluctable.

when reading non-fiction, i am very Serious. i take notes not just on the conceptual level but on the vocabulary level, so that i can simultaneously broaden the word choice at my disposal and figure out what the hell the author's talking about. what's slightly pathetic is that i never use the words i write down ever again. they sit on the pages and have really intelligent conversations with one another, but never with me, because i don't care what they're talking about, they're using big words i don't understand. i feel alienated and confused, and to compensate i run out and rent finding fucking nemo, which is more at My Level. my vocabulary has not changed since i graduated high school. it still involves a large amount of cursing, and no words that i've ever found in books have been able to capture the unique essence of a well-placed 'fuck.'

to justify this waste of ink and paper, i will start using the words i learn from donna haraway and/or ann coulter on a daily basis. this almost certainly guarantees that they will infiltrate these blog posts, which almost certainly guarantees that someone, somewhere, perhaps that lone reader in the uk, will think i am a pretentious piece of shit. i'm okay with that, but it's not about manufacturing alienation, confusion, or disgust. it's about learning another, more creative way to say, 'hey, i'm just keeping it real.' or 'wow, i am amazed at how i've managed not to seriously harm myself as a direct result of my overflowing cup of stupidity.'