dal niente

For those of you who haven’t listened up to my suggestions so far, if
you ever do one thing in life it should be to be more like the guys at Penny Arcade.

On another note, that movie Pearl Harbor was pretty shitty.

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Introspection on justice


Last night, I pulled an “all nighter” to finish homework at the heinous
hour of about 10:45pm.  (For someone who had to wake up at 5am to
go to work, YES that is pretty late).  One thing led to another, I
got a phone call from BM at about 11 and stayed up a little later to
shoot the shit until about midnight.  Then, after having chit
chatted, my brain was wired again—so I fired up the laptop again, got
back to work—blacked out around 1am and then was dragged kicking and
screaming out of the dreamworld by the mental razors of Michael
Jackson’s Thriller on my alarm radio.  That was at about 6:30
am.  I said fuckit, hit the snooze, reset the clock for
8:30.  I hadn’t finished my work yet, but it would have to
wait—anything I wrote while under the influence of chronic sleep
deprivation wouldn’t be worth jack shit in grades anyhow.

8:30 am.  I’m woken up by Bono, which surprises me because I don’t
often hear Joshua Tree stuff on the mix.I ram my ear into the corner of
my laptop (which is still in my bed, along with what I was wearing
during the day, some textbooks and a sharp pencil.  In retrospect,
the rounded edge of a laptop is a much better fate than an HB in the
optic balls.)

From 8:30 until 10:30, I am working on my paper.  This includes
the time eating breakfast, at the bus stop, and on the metro.  When I get to see my teacher, teacher voices the words:

“Good news everyone.”

Good news?  What good news?  How can there be any good
news?  Nothing relevant to this class has yet been marked, so the
good news can’t be that everyone has gotten an A+.  Unless…

“…because so many people voiced concerns over the ambiguity of some of
the paper topics, I’ve decided to extend the deadline until Wednesday.”

You fucker.

So this leads up to my little introspection on justice.  My
realization to my reflex reaction is that “it’s so unfair that I stayed
up forever and woke up that early to get this thing done, and yet, I’m
not gaining any advantages whatsoever as the person who slept early and
woke up late.”  So I want justice.  Or do I?

Looking inside my vengeful little mind reveals that I don’t want
justice—justice has the connotations of providing a clearly defined
standard for an orderly, peaceful society.  But in reality, I’m
thinking about how much I would have liked to see my classmates suffer
by handing in late papers when I worked hard to hand in mine on
time.  I don’t want justice.  I want my peers to fail so that
my grade seems that much better by comparison.

Or is that justice?

If you read comic books enough (Justice League of America anyone?) the
premise of justice is very different.  The ideals are to defend
justice in a sense that you are doing the “right thing”—the right thing
meaning that which is good and noble.  Like rescuing children from
bruning buildings, or something.

But it turns out that if you’re human, and you want justice, it means
that you just want to chop down anyone who by chance or by effort gets
ahead of you.  Justice doesn’t have it’s roots specifically in
‘doing good things’ but rather, ‘make sure no one gets an advantage’.