Hmm
I'm taking 1 intro to philosophy tutorial class. Marking weekly summaries tends to take up half a day. I can do it faster, but I'm a very conscientious person when it comes to this sort of things. I spend significant amounts of time trying to understand what some people write. I also spend significant amounts of time making sure my marking is consistent. If a paper scores 8/10 and another 6/10, there would definitely be an important difference in them. If I think a paper is significantly different from another, but they both happen to end up having the same marks, I would revisit both papers and regrade at least one of them. If there are no important differences between 2 papers but they end up having different marks, I would revisit both papers too. Sometimes revisiting papers compels me to revisit other papers I've given provisional rankings too. That's what consistency is like - a vibration in a part of a web easily affects other parts too.
I've been listening to 2 songs frequently of late: Transformation and The Messiah. Here they are.
They have 1 thing in common. They each give me the picture of me moving endlessly to somewhere, someplace. I'm not exactly looking forward to where I'm ultimately going; I don't exactly care. Why should I? What does it matter?
Transformation gives me this sense most acutely from 1:55. The bass reminds me that I'm moving somewhere. I'm progressing. It gives me a sense of adventure, of hope. And then the violins sweep in, and they remind me not only of disappointment and failure, but how this adventure is ultimately meaningless even if it succeeds.Why exactly the violins have such an effect on me is something I would like to know, but can't pursue until I know more about the technicalities of music and neuroscience. If I weren't doing Philosophy, that would be pretty much what I would want to do.
The Messiah is best heard late in the night, when you're winding down. The various guitar riffs and percussion flash in and out the main musical thread, making me feel as though I'm gliding down a stream at night, and people are trying to find me with their flashlights, but I'm swimming faster and faster, until I break free of them and am gliding in the water with ease. At 4:05 I hear some noise - that's the guilt and regret in my heart. At 4:50 that noise's gone, and at 5:13 I emerge from the water exhausted, but all alone.
I wanted to quote something from Skippy Dies, a novel, but I recall that it is now with someone else.
I've been listening to 2 songs frequently of late: Transformation and The Messiah. Here they are.
They have 1 thing in common. They each give me the picture of me moving endlessly to somewhere, someplace. I'm not exactly looking forward to where I'm ultimately going; I don't exactly care. Why should I? What does it matter?
Transformation gives me this sense most acutely from 1:55. The bass reminds me that I'm moving somewhere. I'm progressing. It gives me a sense of adventure, of hope. And then the violins sweep in, and they remind me not only of disappointment and failure, but how this adventure is ultimately meaningless even if it succeeds.Why exactly the violins have such an effect on me is something I would like to know, but can't pursue until I know more about the technicalities of music and neuroscience. If I weren't doing Philosophy, that would be pretty much what I would want to do.
The Messiah is best heard late in the night, when you're winding down. The various guitar riffs and percussion flash in and out the main musical thread, making me feel as though I'm gliding down a stream at night, and people are trying to find me with their flashlights, but I'm swimming faster and faster, until I break free of them and am gliding in the water with ease. At 4:05 I hear some noise - that's the guilt and regret in my heart. At 4:50 that noise's gone, and at 5:13 I emerge from the water exhausted, but all alone.
I wanted to quote something from Skippy Dies, a novel, but I recall that it is now with someone else.
3 Comments:
I like the second song a lot. Very melancholic. I imagine myself packing up my suitcase, looking back at something/ someone I'm leaving behind with some regret and nostalgia. But in a moment, I leave behind all the (emotional) baggage and just go on the road, feeling light and free.
The first one makes me feel like I'm on am exciting nautical adventure that will redeem me (for some reason). I don't sense disappointment however, though I can see why you do feel that way. For me, it's as though I'm crying tears of happiness to be given a chance at redemption. I still feel sad, and I think I will carry this feeling around with me always, but the trip on the ship promises to be very fun and enjoyable.
I don't think your imagination influenced me, yet we've both chosen metaphors of movement to describe our reactions to these songs. Mine have "happier endings".
Nice blog.
*like I'm on an exciting nautical adventure
Hello from Seattle by the way. I don't have a blog but I like to read other people's.
Hello. Yes it is nice indeed we've both chosen metaphors of movement to describe our reactions to the songs; I like your descriptions too.
Hope you stick around.
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