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Kiwi Crocus
20 October 2009 @ 01:54 am
Today I feel like Galileo in memories, my memory body, whatever. He was nicknamed 'the wrangler' for he challenged teachers and wasn't afraid of conflict if expressing his beliefs (scientific or otherwise) meant creating such the conflict. Sure, he was far before my time. He was truly changing science, enlightening people to the ways of the world.

I just taught a history teacher that the moon DOES rotate. Debated God, stood up for my conclusions, questioned knowledge until I felt I had the truest version I could comprehend--and constantly seeking the state of mind that would allow me to comprehend further.

Galileo: "Aristotle says that a hundred-pound ball falling from a height of one hundred cubits hits the ground before a one-pound ball has fallen one cubit. I say they arrive at the same time. You find, on making the test, that the larger ball beats the smaller only by two inches. Now, behind those two inches you want to hide Aristotle's ninety-nine cubits and, speaking only of my tiny error, remain silent about his enormous mistake."

Smiles and laughter. I strive to be a Galileo, but also a bridge beyond the sciences--back to bridging science, philosophy, language, creativity... That's what I want to do with my life. Somehow. I want to keep being a Wrangler, and a number of other conceptual characteristics as well.

Today is incredibly happy, despite my useless doctor's appointment (I'm essentially not handicapped/disabled enough, but I'll continue researching). Today I sent out a Facebook message thanking some of my favourite people for, essentially, being themselves. I just had the overwhelming urge. I needed to. I got this beautiful response from Kitty.

Kiwi! You came across brilliantly!!! I can feel your love and joy and spectacularness even with all the distance between us!

I so mirror everything you said right back to you! You're this wonderful, funky, crazyrandom ridiculous rabbit, sweet, loving, open, endearing soul. I'm so glad to have met your wonderfully colorful and caring self! I can't wait to see a friendship flourish between us, for you are a truly inimitable Kiwi!

<3 <3 <3


Understanding is so beautiful; it's indescribable.

I also spent an hour writing a sonnet about a peculiar subject embodied by my icon. It makes me very happy and giggly.

I also finished my statistics--four days early, too, like the diligent duck that I am! It doesn't have the same thrill as last-minute endeavours. It has the tingling of relief. I will have to accept that. I am still working on my notes.
 
 
Current Mood: lovedLoved.
 
 
Kiwi Crocus
20 October 2009 @ 02:16 am
Francis Bacon was born in 1561 and died in 1626 performing an experiment to prove that ice stuffed in a chicken would preserve the chicken. I found this particularly ironic and entertaining. This poem emerged.

There was once was a man we called Bacon,
Who believed Church views were mistaken.
He thought science was shakin’,
Should not be forsaken:
Observations were there for the makin’.

Unfortunate to say Bacon had his way
For he was found one day, prey
To his own scientific display.
It is safe to say he wasn’t astray
In thinking that ice held sway:
The chicken preserved; nay,
It is Bacon’s body found left to decay.

Clearly my study methods are incredibly strange. But there, you learned something about ice preservation and a man ironically named Bacon who supported scientific experimentation and died proving chicken stored well 'cold turkey!'

I swear I'm finishing these notes and going to sleep...

P.S. I am also clearly insane because I sent it to my professor, knowing he has a dry sense of humour and says things like "hot topic" about Copernicus and the sun and "it's a photograph" about a picture of the Great Fire of London.
 
 
Current Mood: workingWorking.
 
 
 
Kiwi Crocus
20 October 2009 @ 05:15 pm
Do you know why my life is awesome? I know why my life is awesome.

a) We didn't have the field trip, we had a lecture by a man named Dave Smith. He was a pretty man whose facial structure reminded me of Brooke Smith and he was highly intelligent. Excellent at getting the class to participate, too.

b) We were directed to go outside and pretend to be birds. "Have any of you heard of the game 'Plugs'?" Shake of heads. "Each person has to say it louder; it is a remarkably embarrassing game in public." Mumbled, "Like Mister Penis?" from an Agric boy. "Yes, although by university standards I can't have you screaming Mister Penis, so it will be plug." Agrics were plugs, who screamed 'plug' loudly. Pip and two others were sinks, who whispered 'sink' when people came close. Jo, some others and I were drips, who said 'drip drip' at intermediate volume. Jojo and I decided to be mates and sit under the rhododenrons. We said 'drip' so much we can now hardly recognise it as a word. We then went to identify the other group in the grassland rather than woodland. They were the 'back scratchers' (yelled), blinks (said loudly) and the soundless flock of 'birds' circling 'round. Highly entertaining.

c) We had to go to the lake to identify birds. I put on my new cheap goggles (which, by the way, were adored by all my friends as soon as I stepped in). Dave laughed when he came up and pointed to his head, "Goggles?" I nodded and added, "Quidditch snitch and everything!" "Well, I certainly didn't expect that," he answered. He asked us about what we wanted to do (ie. the 'when we grow up' question--as if) and how we got into environmentalism. I informed him that it is my belief that third-years and the third-year dissertation don't exist, therefore I want to grow into denial. I mentioned that I've been into the environment since I was knee high to a grasshopper (and yes that was more than two years ago, thank-you-very-much).

[When I mentioned Dave not expecting 'me'--essentially--to Pip, she mentioned, "My dear Kiwi, no one expects you. You know Monty Python?" I gave her a look. "You're somewhat like the Spanish Inquisition. No one expects a Kiwi." I then waddled around screeching, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!" in my Monty Python voice. Jo cackled. The ducks joined in.]

d) I checked my school email and it made me crack up.

Nic

Splendid! The only detail I would suggest is that 'Church views were'
might be better changed to 'Scholastics' (I think that preserves the
scansion, too).

I'm copying to Michael Shaw because, as module convenor, he should be
aware of the presence of poetic genius.

Regards,

Nick


Poetic genius. Hark hark chortle snort. So now the poem is finished:

There was once was a man we called Bacon,
Who believed Scholastics mistaken.
He thought science was shakin’,
Should not be forsaken:
Observations were there for the makin’.

Unfortunate to say Bacon had his way
For he was found one day, prey
To his own scientific display.
It is safe to say he wasn’t astray
In thinking that ice held sway:
The chicken preserved; nay,
It is Bacon’s body found left to decay.


I'm going to go be awesome some more. See y'all later! :D
 
 
Current Mood: chipperDelighted.
 
 
Kiwi Crocus
20 October 2009 @ 10:02 pm
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