Awhile ago I talked about sucking at stuff. I'd like to revisit the subject if I may. I enjoy the topic of being bad, terrible, crappy, horrible. I especially enjoy absolutely horrrendicity (not a real word FYI). I want to explore horrendicity over the next few weeks.
The first thing that comes to mind for a comparison, mostly so I can show what I mean, has to do with languages. I love them. I have been trying to teach them to myself for years. I've been to my fare share of non-Anglophone countries. I won't say how many because it's an obnoxiously large amount. I have spent plenty of time trying to learn some of the languages of the places I've been, for years. Like Vietnamese for example. English is not prevalent in Vietnam. In 6 months of serious study I learned one word, hello, which no Vietnamese could even understand. The years spent here is an important thing to keep in mind. As in, it wasn't just a day or ten.
French being the only language I am okay with. Je comprends la langue un petit et je peux lire à un niveau de quatrième année, peut-être. (I can understand the language a little and read at a 4th grade level, maybe.) For anyone who actually knows French, please, go easy on me.
For me, languagely (also not a real word) speaking, this French thing is a 10/10. I know, I know, how impressive right? My French may be bad, but in comparison to how bad many of my other languages are I'm practically fluent. Now, I'm not just speaking of a language that I don't know at all and referring to it as being "bad at it". For example, I know only one phrase in Swahili, hankuna matata, and I don't even know what it means. This does not constitute being bad, terrible or horrible at Swahili. I just don't know Swahili. If I did, I would probably suck at it based on my expertise at learning other languages, but that is not the point. The point is that there is a difference between not knowing a language, and sucking at a language. I'm much more interested in the second option. Just to be fair I am also very familiar with the first. I also "don't know" hundreds, even thousands of languages, in addition to the ones I am bad at.
Okay, so short one this week. Swamped with 8 hour work days and full time grad school. Will explore horrendicity more next week as it Thanksgiving in the USA and I'll have a few days off to write more about it.
I Include a poem I just finished, and the original that inspired it.
As if I asked a common
Alms,
And in my wondering
hand
A Stranger pressed a
Kingdom,
And I, bewildered,
stand --
As if I asked the
Orient
Had it for me a Morn
--
And it should lift its
purple Dikes,
And shatter me with
Dawn!
- Emily Dickinson 1858
A Directional
Tragedy
As if the keys to the
kingdom were dangled
Over the edge.
But not yet.
Only one move-
To glory, To doom.
As if - either way, it
were that simple.
The only proofs that the
ends
Hurt less then the means
Reside in ignorance and
bliss-
Based on lies. Based on
false promises.
Where witnessed is
This kind of power?
Everything that is, fits
On the head of a pin.
It must be found now.
As if it- survival- were
even a possibility
It would only be
As if the sky cracked
wide, wands waved, gates opened.
Seconds that were
thirty-five centuries long
A mere blink of an eye for
some,
Happened. Done. Over.
As if - eternity defined.
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