a monty python reference

For what it’s worth: the blog and I are not dead yet [long live blog]. There’s been no particular reason for the inactivity, and now no particular reason for its resurrection. Probably how Frankenstein felt.

I picked up Hits1 in 2014 as I exited a graduate program in Philosophy, hoping for a real job. I took me the better part of 2015 to score one, and score is a funny verb when even saying “World, one jillion, Sophia, love,” is too poetic for the actual situation, you have to enunciate zero, “Sophia, zero.” I work as a facilities customer service representative for a large banking conglomerate: every little girl’s dream. Probably I won’t ever talk about that again, as it seems, well, professionally suicidal, but largely my life has been commuting to that gig, working that gig, then collapsing at home and watching something on Netflix I’ve already seen so that I can trust that something pleasant will happen that day. Somehow that has carried on into the end of 2016.

Though there are bright spots.

Meet Willa.

See this Instagram photo by @raygunsue * 7 likes

babies. #rabbitsofinstagram

See this Instagram photo by @raygunsue

I adopted Willa and Sherman from a rabbit rescue. They spend their days destroying furniture and looking at me suspiciously.

I hope you will be hearing from me soon. I aim to write a bit more. Surely that’s how one hopes, right? Just let me write a little bit more.2

Thank you, to the stranger who reached out.

quelle surprise!

One of the major insights I gathered from Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions was that the attractiveness of new theories importantly involves research possibilities.

When I made a list of things I’d hoped to write on this blog, I was surprised that so many of them were feminist-y. As I’ve been writing, I’ve been surprised to find so many seeds of existentialism and ordinary language thought. (I quoted Nietzsche.) Feminism, ordinary language philosophy, and existentialism were all taught in classes that I forced myself to take as a kind of intellectual honesty, and though I talked about them a lot in graduate school, it wasn’t because I had found the subjects so stimulating, but because I found that they were often dismissed as genuinely insightful areas of philosophy.

This isn’t an apology, just, a record of averred intentions.

manifesto + explanation + self-promise

I’ve recently decided to leave academic philosophy, and one of my first thoughts, after the decision had been cemented, regarded starting a blog.1 Rather: I wanted to write. Rather: I wanted to write about some things I cared about, in a way that would self-satisfy, even if it didn’t match the ordinary polish of academic work. Some of these things are articulations of old boozy arguments I had with good friends, and some of them are things that I wanted to say to facebook ranters, but I lacked the patience and courage for the inevitable tidal reply.

Mostly, I wanted to write about the things I listened to, the games I played, and the thoughts I had while scrolling tumblr. I wanted to put content to those thoughts, and see if they might be justified.

See, I’m an utter failure at Boston salon parties.2 Whenever someone tries to make a point thoroughly, I find myself losing all interest in the monologue and wishing instead that they’d just spit out their bibliography so I could read the book that they are quoting, because they are quoting, and too often I feel like interlocutors think they’ve secured some SmartPoints™, some originality, because they conceal their sources. Books must be taken seriously, but they can also be set aside, and disagreed with thoroughly.3 In conversation, the theatre of personality seems to always carry the day. But I like to chat, and I am a big personality, and I love when conversation consists in honest hunches. That’s all I ever seem to give, and that’s part of why I’m a failure among big-word talkers — I am suspicious of anything longer than a paragraph, and dislike answering questions when I don’t think the medium is suited to it, so I only cut in with a bit of boozy humor or sass.

But I might also be a coward.4

What I’ve mentioned, so far, has just sounded like academic after-hours. But that’s not really what I’d like to write about here. I’d like to write about a good thought, a good worry, with uncowardly thoroughness. I get these good worries more often from albums you’ve heard of and games you’ve already beaten.

Ergo ‘Hits.’ Hit songs are so cool that it’s uncool to care about them. Getting hit hurts. I’ve found most of my mental life involves being struck by pop culture in a way that leaves me uneasy, and here, I’d like to settle some of that.