Essays and focus
Oct. 26th, 2004 02:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sigerson...lunchtime!
I intended to write a followup today to my muttering about crisis and despair. What resulted was a rambling morass, slogging from topic to topic without engaging any of them. From what happens if Kerry loses, to the value of 'small' local action, to the word 'sheeple' and my desire to slowly eviscerate those who use it, to pride, to why moving to Canada is a bad idea...You can see that there's thematic links, but not a whole lot of coherence. It was a real rant.
I didn't not post it because it was emotional, or occasionally logically flawed, but because it was bad. Every topic led me on to more, before I had even begun to argue the first. Writing it, I could sense this seething mass of emotion--anger, love, fervor--threatening to erupt and leave nothing but a string of expletives on the screen.
At the end of the attempt, I was thinking of the comparative ease that the previous essay came from, and the thought I'd had after finishing: "Oh my...this is a sermon."
And while writing this morass, I became aware of what was wrong with the attempt. Not that the topic is too big--but that it's too big for me to address *yet*. I haven't been able to sit and think about any one facet of it, because the others draw me round and round in an unfocused haze. I could write for hours on any one of them, but without trying to isolate the topics I went wild.
The problem, of course, is that isolating a topic diminishes it somewhat. Doing small works is clearly related to hope, and to the US post-election, and to burnout...and any examination that ignores those is flawed. All of these are larger than I can easily face without splintering them.
But like the comments for my essay on crisis pointed out, one solution comes from recognizing the power of small things. (Not the only solution, though...) Never lose sight of the big picture--but address one problem, one topic, one idea at at time, and it will build up.
With that in mind, I've decided to try and write more often, on specific but circumscribed topics set ahead of time, and post the results in LJ. I'm not trying to moralize, or gripe, or preach (even to the choir). What I want is to explore my thoughts on a subject, to form a coherent statement; and maybe someone will read them and agree or disagree, and cause me to think even more.
Half-inspired by that 'sermon' thought, I've decided to start writing on fourteen concrete topics: the seven cardinal virtues, and the seven deadly sins. Wish me luck!
And here's a quotation that will be familiar...
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
I intended to write a followup today to my muttering about crisis and despair. What resulted was a rambling morass, slogging from topic to topic without engaging any of them. From what happens if Kerry loses, to the value of 'small' local action, to the word 'sheeple' and my desire to slowly eviscerate those who use it, to pride, to why moving to Canada is a bad idea...You can see that there's thematic links, but not a whole lot of coherence. It was a real rant.
I didn't not post it because it was emotional, or occasionally logically flawed, but because it was bad. Every topic led me on to more, before I had even begun to argue the first. Writing it, I could sense this seething mass of emotion--anger, love, fervor--threatening to erupt and leave nothing but a string of expletives on the screen.
At the end of the attempt, I was thinking of the comparative ease that the previous essay came from, and the thought I'd had after finishing: "Oh my...this is a sermon."
And while writing this morass, I became aware of what was wrong with the attempt. Not that the topic is too big--but that it's too big for me to address *yet*. I haven't been able to sit and think about any one facet of it, because the others draw me round and round in an unfocused haze. I could write for hours on any one of them, but without trying to isolate the topics I went wild.
The problem, of course, is that isolating a topic diminishes it somewhat. Doing small works is clearly related to hope, and to the US post-election, and to burnout...and any examination that ignores those is flawed. All of these are larger than I can easily face without splintering them.
But like the comments for my essay on crisis pointed out, one solution comes from recognizing the power of small things. (Not the only solution, though...) Never lose sight of the big picture--but address one problem, one topic, one idea at at time, and it will build up.
With that in mind, I've decided to try and write more often, on specific but circumscribed topics set ahead of time, and post the results in LJ. I'm not trying to moralize, or gripe, or preach (even to the choir). What I want is to explore my thoughts on a subject, to form a coherent statement; and maybe someone will read them and agree or disagree, and cause me to think even more.
Half-inspired by that 'sermon' thought, I've decided to start writing on fourteen concrete topics: the seven cardinal virtues, and the seven deadly sins. Wish me luck!
And here's a quotation that will be familiar...
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
