As usual, I'm disappointed that we have brushed over American history and painted a ridiculously simplified picture. I have been reading snippets of "What the Anti-Federalists Were For," a book that Berck sent me sometime before. This is not the first time recently that I have thought about the original Confederation of States. How quickly we brush that over now. The American constitution and the principles of American government that we praise so highly today...we treat them as if they were handed down by God, and all the Americans did was write these "self-evident truths" on a sheet of paper after the revolution...thereby securing the first democracy. (Err...republic). American History classes brush right over the Confederation, quickly mentioning that it happened, and then moving right along as if it is embarrassing that we once had a different governmental structure. God forbid anyone realize that the constitution was created through a process of lengthy debate, that it was not some automatic creation where the principles were obvious to everyone and just needed to be written down to secure the governmental structure.
If we are to assume that the constitution has been (at least moderately) successful, then why do we brush over the intricate debate that created it? Instead of celebrating and replicating this open discussion, we hide that it ever happened.
It reminds me of the fact that when they created the bible, they debated and argued over what gospels should and shouldn't be in it. That the structure that the bible takes, even today, is completely dependent on a few people and their personal opinions and motivations.
Once again, this is something that we (or Christians) don't talk about. I'm not sure what it is in our mentality that we want to believe that all our great documents contain immutable truths that could not possibly be arranged or different than they are. Why is it wrong to honor not just the brilliance of the ideas contained in the documents but also the process that the ideas came out of?
Of course, the funny thing about the Anti-federalists is that they were the federalists. They wanted the country to remain a confederation. It's interesting, because one party or another has been in favor of more state rights throughout the history of America. Basically, that's been whatever party has controlled the South. This isn't surprising as the South has always been marginalized by the federal government. It used to be that the Republicans were in favor of a strong national government, and the Dems were the ones crying "state rights!" Now that the Rs control the South, they have usurped the "state rights" battle call.
Although usually I am all for a strong federal government, as it is necessary for a strong welfare state, I can't help but wonder if the Anti-federalists were right. After all, it was the South that suffered from being part of the same country as the North. It seems like these days we all identify with the national government, and just bitch about the oddities of each state government. States have different taxes, different driver's license and tag rules, different rules about smoking...all these little annoying regulatory things. It seems like where states do disagree, the federal gov't jumps in and takes over. For example, I personally think that the drinking age is a riduculous example of trampling state rights through manipulation of money. But, despite all of this state rights bullshit, I think when it comes down to it I don't trust Texas to provide health care to their citizens. Because they've proven that they won't.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Sunday, July 03, 2005
I've been in a paralysis for days. I come out of it to work, and then I come home and zombie out again. And if I start thinking or talking I immediately start crying. It's been a long time since I've been this miserable. Even Chicago winter was never anywhere near this bad.
I can't make myself do anything, so I figured I'd try to write. I spent nine and a half consecutive hours watching Gilmore Girls. And now I'm out, and that's probably the only reason I stopped. I should go to bed, but I'm not tired, even though I should be. I only got 4ish hours of sleep last night.
Being here is so miserable, so I work myself to death instead. Tommorrow I work at the yacht club from 9-5 and then I've gotta be at Chili's at 5:30. Won't be done until at least 10. Then dinner at Chili's on Tuesday and Wednesday. I'm training as a server at the Yacht Club on Thursday. Friday is my ten hour day at the yacht club. At least when I'm working I'm sort of immune, albeit temporarily, from the misery.
When I'm home it just sinks in, and everything makes me sad. If I'm not watching TV I'm staring off into space. Sometimes I try to remember if I actually really had friends at one point, and then try to figure out why I have none here and now. It's been a long time since I've been this desperate to hang out with someone...but no one has come through for me. And then that makes me wonder if Sean was right and there IS something wrong with me. Something that repels people. And I wonder if all these people that I had casual relationships with, that I thought bordered on friends, if they even like me at all. And above it all, I just feel so damn pathetic. I feel like a whiny baby. I AM a whiney baby. I'm so alone. I've never been this alone. Ever. I come home to this big, empty apartment, and I wonder if I'll ever get it even passably clean. I don't eat anymore. I eat free food when given, but have ceased to consume dinner. I don't feel like cooking. Not for just me. It's too sad. And my kitchen smells like raid anyway. I can't kill the ants. They won't go away.
At least the kitchen is spotless. I cleaned for hours. But the trash can is dirty at the bottom. I need a hose. But...I live in an apartment and am hence hoseless.
And I wonder how many days until I'm carless. I feel like I'm stuck in mud. This problem isn't getting fixed. The car will disappear. AND Baby Ruthe is going to starve if she doesn't eat more food. She's eaten half a bowl since Tuesday. That's almost a week.
I wish I felt more creative. I wish I had a drive to create. I just feel empty. Like an empty shell. Like, my body's still here but my mind was supposed to go on vacation but I didn't get the note so my mind's stuck here alone. This isn't a life.
I had forgotten how closely emotional pain can resemble the physical pain. I've been through some pretty bad physical pain this month, and I can honestly say that the emotional pain is pretty bad. The only good thing is that I'm more likely to fall asleep than be kept awake by that sort of pain. But if I AM kept awake, it's pretty much just as miserable.
I wonder whether anyone has ever read this blog ever. Why do I keep a blog? To ramble on about dumb shit, when no one actually cares to read it? I hate that I'm that self-centered and attention loving. I hate hate hate hate hate that.
But I'll to work and pretend to be a whole person, a complete person, until they try to talk to me about what I do for fun, or my friends, or a life at all, and then I shut down and babble because I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY. I can talk about all the shitty things in my life, but can't name one friend I hang out with in town. You know, more than once in the last year.
There's so much I need to accomplish this summer. Watching Gilmore Girls and staring at the ceiling are not on the list. I'm going to feel even worse if the summer ends and I'm in the same place as when it started.
I'm going to try to sleep now.
I can't make myself do anything, so I figured I'd try to write. I spent nine and a half consecutive hours watching Gilmore Girls. And now I'm out, and that's probably the only reason I stopped. I should go to bed, but I'm not tired, even though I should be. I only got 4ish hours of sleep last night.
Being here is so miserable, so I work myself to death instead. Tommorrow I work at the yacht club from 9-5 and then I've gotta be at Chili's at 5:30. Won't be done until at least 10. Then dinner at Chili's on Tuesday and Wednesday. I'm training as a server at the Yacht Club on Thursday. Friday is my ten hour day at the yacht club. At least when I'm working I'm sort of immune, albeit temporarily, from the misery.
When I'm home it just sinks in, and everything makes me sad. If I'm not watching TV I'm staring off into space. Sometimes I try to remember if I actually really had friends at one point, and then try to figure out why I have none here and now. It's been a long time since I've been this desperate to hang out with someone...but no one has come through for me. And then that makes me wonder if Sean was right and there IS something wrong with me. Something that repels people. And I wonder if all these people that I had casual relationships with, that I thought bordered on friends, if they even like me at all. And above it all, I just feel so damn pathetic. I feel like a whiny baby. I AM a whiney baby. I'm so alone. I've never been this alone. Ever. I come home to this big, empty apartment, and I wonder if I'll ever get it even passably clean. I don't eat anymore. I eat free food when given, but have ceased to consume dinner. I don't feel like cooking. Not for just me. It's too sad. And my kitchen smells like raid anyway. I can't kill the ants. They won't go away.
At least the kitchen is spotless. I cleaned for hours. But the trash can is dirty at the bottom. I need a hose. But...I live in an apartment and am hence hoseless.
And I wonder how many days until I'm carless. I feel like I'm stuck in mud. This problem isn't getting fixed. The car will disappear. AND Baby Ruthe is going to starve if she doesn't eat more food. She's eaten half a bowl since Tuesday. That's almost a week.
I wish I felt more creative. I wish I had a drive to create. I just feel empty. Like an empty shell. Like, my body's still here but my mind was supposed to go on vacation but I didn't get the note so my mind's stuck here alone. This isn't a life.
I had forgotten how closely emotional pain can resemble the physical pain. I've been through some pretty bad physical pain this month, and I can honestly say that the emotional pain is pretty bad. The only good thing is that I'm more likely to fall asleep than be kept awake by that sort of pain. But if I AM kept awake, it's pretty much just as miserable.
I wonder whether anyone has ever read this blog ever. Why do I keep a blog? To ramble on about dumb shit, when no one actually cares to read it? I hate that I'm that self-centered and attention loving. I hate hate hate hate hate that.
But I'll to work and pretend to be a whole person, a complete person, until they try to talk to me about what I do for fun, or my friends, or a life at all, and then I shut down and babble because I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY. I can talk about all the shitty things in my life, but can't name one friend I hang out with in town. You know, more than once in the last year.
There's so much I need to accomplish this summer. Watching Gilmore Girls and staring at the ceiling are not on the list. I'm going to feel even worse if the summer ends and I'm in the same place as when it started.
I'm going to try to sleep now.
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