[Disclaimer: this is me not writing my thesis]
A few days ago I posted a link to a comic about Saturnalia. It was pro-pagan, but I would like to note that it was poorly drawn. It was exceedingly phallocentric. And the protrayal of women was highly problematic. The two female characters were a femme-bot stephford wife and a meddlesome prudish church lady who was disabused of her prudery through having sex with a well-endowed male. Not exactly groundbreaking social messages. However, there's a good chance it was intended to be ironic. Also, it makes me not want to sit on santa's lap ever again. not that I wanted to anyway.
Then I posted a text-sound version of Away in a Manger. Ok, so it's not my best work. I've never been good with arrangements. And some people don't like the computer generated voice. I love it though. I love putting emotional statements and statements of faith and have them be read by the cold, lifeless, souless computer. When the computer exclaims, "I love you, Lord Jesus!" it's cold, cynical and meangingless. Also, I hate Christamas carols a lot. However, some part of me still wants to write one. I've gotten as far as "Santa, don't park your sleigh / atop my solar array" but then I ran out of steam. Why wouldn't Santa be able to park on the solar array? His sleigh is obviously near weightless, or flying reindeer wouldn't have a chance. Maybe reindeer droppings would cause shaowds on it until the next rainstorm, but that hardly seems like a topic for a carol.
Clearly, I will go to any lengths not to work on my thesis. Bah. I feel all stressy today. I dreamt that my mom had discoverd some of my undergrad-era misdeeds (she didn't specify which ones) and decided to disown me and adopt my ex in my stead. I'm sure the meaning of this is perfectly obvious to everyone but me and I'm going to embarass myself by posting it. But every moment I spend typing in my blog is a moment I don't type on my thesis. blah blah blah. I used to have dreams where I would be hanging out, talking to my mom and something would be nagging at me and finally I would say, "hey! You're dead! Why am I talking to you?" and she would apologize and walk around a corner and just disappear, and I would be "Hey! Wait!" but it would be too late, she was gone. I hate dreams.