The Conclusion

Disregarding the whole Cthulu thing, my ultimate feeling of the year long blog assignment was one of evolution, and of  a great journey. Well, maybe just cool, not great. From the first blog, telling all of the three people who read it about who I am, to this, the last one, I find my self stupefied, pleased, shocked and somewhat embarrassed. Stupefied that I've written so many of the damned things in the first place, pleased for the same reason, shocked that I even bothered, and embarrassed about some of my posts in and of themselves. Especially my rampant early uncapitalized I's.

Be it ranting on whichever book we happen to be reading in class, or drawing some pile o' doody art project in ten minutes and attempting to convey symbolism and/or a deeper meaning, this blog has helped to evolve and define my current writing abilities and habits. Most prominently, it has helped me to recognize connections  between literature and the world, literature and literature, literature and movies, etc... Now I can't watch a movie without my brain constantly pointing out all the little tiny plot similarities and backdoor references to classical literature and such. Which is sometimes a curse, rather than a blessing, being as my brain is already almost too hyper-critical to bear.

Beyond writing, the blog assignments have also helped improve my work ethic, due to the fact that if you miss them, your grade gets shot in the face. I only missed a couple, but I do believe I did them late for half credit or what-have-you. Sometimes they have been stressful, which is a double edged sword, and sometimes they have been so easy I almost didn't do it. “Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired.”, to quote Jules Renard, a random french guy who's quote I happened to find on the internet and thought roughly applied to the paragraph I was writing. 

I guess that's it. I've come a long way thanks to this blog, and I see it not as an end, but as a new beginning. Hell, I may even blog for personal gain now. It was for the most part a fun assignment, and definitely constructive without the slightest shadow of doubt. So, with that, I bid you adieu wonderful three person mandatoraly reading audience, and farewell to you Mrs. Gilman, and adios internet.

Love, Porter Nelson.
rofl    

Reflecting on a Memorable Assignment

Buried among the myriad essays, worksheets, forms, papers, quizzes, notes, drafts, redrafts and handouts that us freshmen get swamped with, I do believe that my favorite assignment was this last outside reading taskamabober, I only generate this opinion due to the fact that the book I got stuck in with was absolutely wonderful. On the Road rocked my socks, so to speak. 

It was the perfect surrealistic partner to Slaughterhouse 5, which was also a good read, and it really rustled my jimmies, in a good way. I think that maybe, just for reading the book, my dreams of becoming a Space President Astronaut Cowboy Psychology Major will finally come true. Not really, that is a little bit far-fetched. But it does really make me want to take a roadtrip across America. If only I knew a cat as mad as Dean.   

A Good Experience with Poetry LATE

One of my "good experiences with poetry", so to speak, was reading Dante's Inferno over the summer. I had been hearing a lot about it, and being the overcritical atheist that I am, I just had to check it out. I actually found that it was a really good poem, and was shocked to find that it was actually epic, in both senses of the word. 

It lost none of it's originally intended power through the translation process from Italian to English, and Alighieri's brilliant insanity shown through wonderfully. Be it scenes of gore, death and suffering, or deeply intuitive epigrams, the poem kept me hooked. This was one of my best experiences with poetry in my life so far, and will affect me forevermore in the sense that no other poem (save Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner or Tennyson's In Memorium) will ever be as good. 


At this point in my life, the word poetry is rather synonymous with the idea of being in the home stretch, or wrapping up a period of learning. This, clearly, is due to the end of the year being nigh and such things. Beyond that, I take a rather neutral stance towards poetry. Some  poems I find shallow and pedantic, whilst others appear deep and thoughtful. 'Tis not a static thing, this brain of mine.