I talk a lot of shit about my major. I mean, it's pretty easy because I'm surrounded by people who are studying Political Science and biology to become lawyers and doctors, and, well, I read books. I read books to become...someone who reads books.
It's so easy to second guess my major because there's always the question: How does being an English major help other people?
Usually, when faced with this question, I just mumble something unintelligible under my breath and hope the subject changes.
BUT -- today in class, I have come up with a real answer. Well, more of a question really. I'm used to hearing so much about fighting for MY education and MY right to be a part of this university, so why should I be studying just to help OTHER people?
The real question is: How does being an English major help me?
Of course, it's very important to want to contribute to the world and help others, but I really don't think I can effectively help anyone else before I help myself. So, as they always say, there's a time and a place for everything -- and it's called college.
Why not use my major to help me become the best person I can before I make my debut into the big, scary, real world?
So, I came to this mini-revelation today in my American Literature class. We were discussing Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself" and chose to focus on (what else?) the masturbation section.
Your tax dollars at work, people.
We read through it, and my teacher simply asked, "Well, why the hell do you think this section is in here?"
Several people took a crack at it, but I didn't really buy what they were saying. I took a second look at it and a few lines popped out at me (haha innuendo):
"On all sides prurient provokers stiffening my limbs,
Straining the udder of my heart for its withheld drip,
Behaving licentious toward me, taking no denial,
Depriving me of my best as for a purpose,"
Of course there was the initial "tee hee" at stuff like 'stiffening my limbs' and 'drip' (yuk), but if looked at more carefully, this urge doesn't seem to come from within himself. It's as if Whitman is being pushed into this masturbation.
Sketch.
Now, for those of you who really know me, you understand my unhealthy obsession with the movie "Fight Club." No one can forget the scene in which the GORGEOUS Mr. Tyler Durden says: "Self-improvement is masturbation."
The rest of Whitman's poem is centered on developing the self and an individual's creative process, so I raised my hand and said that in this section, Whitman is drawing a clear distinction between self-improvement and self-discovery.
Who or what are these external forces pushing Whitman into masturbation? Who or what is pushing us to constantly try to improve ourselves?
I believe there is something out there (and it may be different for each person) pressuring us to focus solely on self-improvement and completely disregard self-discovery. It's become more about sacrificing who we are in order to fit into a certain ideal as opposed to building a sense of identity based on our own inherent potential.
So I ask, why set ourselves on improving something we haven't yet fully discovered?
Now I have a new goal. Do all I can to discover me before trying to improve me. Who knows? Maybe a lot of the things I'm trying to fix just ain't broke in the first place.
Being an English major may not help cure cancer or land multi-million dollar accounts, but I'll take a new love for myself over the big bucks any day. You may disagree, but there ain't no pockets in the burial shroud, bro.
So take what you want from my annoying little lecture. Discover yourself before trying to change yourself. Masturbate because you want to. Whatevs. Thanks for reading.
Sermon over, Seacrest out.
