Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Awakening my Entrepreneureal Giest

Words cannot express how weary I am of hearing the words “What are you planning on doing with that?” when the topic of my major is raised in conversation. This topic is frequently raised on a day to day basis as every time I meet someone new, naturally they ask what it is I do (for in America today, what we do is more defining of you than anything, and often more memorable to others than your name).

I’ve found that avoiding this question in conversation is an impossible task. People are always going to ask what it is one “does”, and so long as I choose to interact with them, I’m going to have to answer “I’m a student”, “O really? What’s your major?”, “Philosophy”.

Thus far, the simplest solution to avoiding this painful question of "what I'm going to do" has been lying about what it is I currently do. If the person I’m talking to is attractive enough, I’ll tell them I work for the CIA as an intern spy (last week, I pointed to the “Russian Spy Swap” headline of the Seattle Times and told them that was me. They looked at me as if I was retarded. Apparently I’m not funny. Perhaps pretty people just don’t have a sense of humour. I dunno). On the other hand, If they’re fugly or stupid, I'll usually say something like “Biology major” or “History major” and they’ll usually just nod and continue their string of predictable questions (because it’s so fucking obvious what History majors do).

Anyway, because I’m a generally honest person, I typically find myself hearing “What are you planning on doing with that?” a lot. Usually I shrug or say “teach”, but no longer! I’m going freelance.
(name ommitted)


That’s right, I’ve awaked my inner Milton Friedman and have entered the wonderful world of Liaise-Faire street Capitalism! Philosophy will no longer be the bitch of business or science or religion. It’s time for philosophy to serve the masses in its most raw and mildly inexperience form: me. It’s time I capitalize on my rookie skills. From now on, when people ask me what I plan to do with philosophy, I can look them in the high, hold my head up high, and say “Live the American dream, of course!”


P.S. Why, yes, I'm serious. I'll be hitting the streets all this week with this is my sign.


P.S.S. As a disclaimer to all you Philosophy lovers. I'm aware I'm misusing the word Giest. Thanks. As this blog should also function as a discussion board, please feel free to discuss this missappropreation of the term as well as the possible redundancy of the phrase "Philosophy lover".

Monday, July 5, 2010

To be a Philosopher is to be a Whore.

As I look despirately for internships, I've recognized the completely lack of interest people have in Philosophy. Philosophy is only interesting to people so long as you can sell it to them as relevent to thier lives, thier interests, and thier careers. What's do be done, then, but put on the red lace and hit the streets?

Just like a hooker who has forgotten love, Philosophy has numbed it's own personal interests in serving the interests of others. Yesterday, Philosophy served Religion. Today, Philosophy serves science, industry, politics.

What would Philosophy look like without her clients? That's an interesting question. An investigation into what it means to "be" perhaps? A radical self-determinism in which one's chief values are not driven by Truth's and pleasures? But what else is there? Everything else is just a sad story, without happiness or revelation.... What's wrong with sad stories?

This Pretty Woman needs her Richard.

As for jobs, my dad scored me an interview with a former co-worker of his. This guy is starting a business as a mobile burger vendor and needs handsome lads and ladies to flip burgers and flirt with customers. Just my kinda thing :)

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Philosophy, as it is practiced today, blows.

In medieval times, Monks used to sit indoors all day long throughout the year and write letters of sorts to others monasteries, who in turn would respond. These documents varied in style and length, from entire volumes to short, listed questions. Monks delighted in the exchange of these theological dialogues, even as they began to increasing drift in sincerity and practicality as questions such as “How many Angels can dance on the head of a pin?” and “Could Jesus have been born a female?” became the source of much discussion, which often regressed to petty insults and bickering between monks. This system of exchange came to be known as scholasticism.

This exchange of essays and questions parallels much of academia today, in that sophistry has come to exist in place of/as dialogue. Our conversations and exchanges consist of building houses of cards, comparing, and trying our best to knock down others all while maintaining our own. We exchange speeches.

Rather than regressing to insults, however, we've begun an assult on language. We increasingly blame the limitations of words for our impotence... Yet, in this recognition we continue to create new definitions, new words in hopes thatsomehow this will circumnavigate the issue. Dumb.

Whenever I write an essay, I feel like I’m only learning how to become a better tool.

Socrates didn’t write essays… He walked around and lived off of others all while being an ass. Why don’t we do that anymore? I want to earn my hemlock!


No internship/job leads yet. I can feel the disapproving gaze of my father beginning to pierce my soul.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Daybreak

The day is dawning.

We live in an age of very new and fun things, don't we? iPads, iPhones, Lamborghini Murcielago lp640s.... But really, what makes us as a modern generation so much better than previous generations? What sets us apart from our dead fathers and grandfathers? Our technology? Certainly. But technology is only a means, is it not? And if so, towards what ends is this means directed? What values are reflected in our XBoxes and iPads and internet USB fleshlights?

As for Philosophy, face it; we have no respect for the profession in today's world. Philosophy majors are the butt of almost every academic joke and the object of a consistantly dissapproving gaze ("Philosophy? Interesting... And what are you planning to do with that?")

Who's to blame for this? Our consumer-whore culture? A misplaced faith in science? The fetishization of information? Perhaps philosophy itself is to blame.

This is my project.

-A

P.s. Anyone know of any internships in the greater Seattle area?