The Weatha

I'm not overjoyed with the unseasonable spritz coming from the sky. Or, as Orwell would have me put it, this rain sucks.

I'm in the GF right now, lost among the newbies mingling about looking for their classes, the lines formed in front of Registration and Financial Aid, and general first-week-of-school chaos. Eve is coming down shortly to enjoy a smoke break out front with me. Other than that, today has been about Orwell and therapy.

My 60s Identities Movements class is in a few hours. I heard Hattam, one of the professors team teaching the class, is tough. I'm happy about the fact that my writing class is not really reading intensive. We have reading to do each week but it will most likely pale in comparison to what will be required of my other two classes. I've been trying to come up with a topic about which to write my op-ed piece. The word limit is short, so I'm not worried about that.

But after reading the Orwell essay, I can see how I'll be a bit gun shy at first. He talks about the use of unnecessary phrasing that has become watered down as a result of over/misuse. he laments the use of dumb metaphors, extra words, and passive voice. But then again, people have their own styles. They're never going to be for everyone. That's why reading essays by writers on writing is really interesting. The panel discussion about bad writing at the Liberal Studies conference last spring is an example. There were no conclusions. Just a bunch of ego-maniacal professors for and against Judith Butler. It's just a matter of opinion. So then what really becomes the issue is the credentials of the person with the opinion. Who are they to have reached such a conclusion? If I said the same exact thing as George, would people have taken it as gospel as much as they would have/do with him? Perhaps. I guess it depends on if you like him. So I have to come up with a topic to editorialize about. I'll keep you posted. I'm going to go do some reading.