Thumper, Soup and Subjectivism

I'm hungry but I don't want to get something to eat because my roommate and her (jealous-possessive-emotionally abusive) boyfriend are in the living room. I don't want to talk to them. As Thumper once said, "If you can't say anything nice, don't go into the living room and confront the people you can't say anything nice to," or something like that. It occurs to me that I must really not like him if he is getting in between me and, not only my coffee, but my soup. Ass. I think I have some tic-tacs in my purse...

It's been snowing all day, which is really odd for Billings, MT. We have about 45 minutes of daylight left, and then I am in for the night because ThundyToes rejects snow/ice. Good MN car. (Sarcasm sign).

I promised an update about my homework. Yesterday during lunch, I finished my Whitman essay. Here in an excerpt:

"If Walt Whitman’s antebellum poetry was some sort of pleasurable climax of prose, then his post-bellum scrawling represents the morning after nausea, confusion & cerebellum trauma. The cerebellum is the part of the brain that controls equilibrium. It is an integral part of the human existence. Whitman’s post-bellum writing is the perpetual hangover. Unfortunately, Whitman never regained his carefree, yet balanced self. Instead Whitman sank into the unstable mindset of suffering."

Literary analysis is not my forte'. I've decided that this is because literature is overwhelmingly subjective. I refuse to draw closure from wide-eyed subjectivism, nor do I relish taking one professor's "interpretation" of literature when lit is, again, more often than not subjective. Perhaps this is the bane of being a Platonist-moral Absolutist.

I often suspect that if I were a liberal, not only would college have been more enjoyable, but it also would have been easier. I guess I don't like things easy. I like the feeling of accomplishment and over coming challenges. Some say this makes me "too tightly wound" or 'difficult." Boo on them. I have fight, and I like it that way.