The Dangers of Conformity

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I have not lived.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

To be read at the start of all Dead Poet's Society meetings.

I love movies that give me such a good feeling. Granted, it does end on somewhat of a down note, but the spirit of the film outweighs that greatly. In an environment built firmly on the conformity of each and every student, one teacher goes against the grain and treats his students like free-thinking individuals with ideas and personalities. Wouldn't that be great? I'm not saying all of my teachers have been stuffy old men that treat us like children, but I can't say I've ever been inspired enough to stand on my desk and recite poetry. I would love to be though.

John Keating: "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, 'O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"

The passion behind this one monologue just makes me want to go out and live life to the fullest. Wouldn't it be great to learn in a new way and enjoy yourself at the same time? To have meetings late at night, crowded in a cave reciting old poetry and creating your own and living life. Let's start a new chapter, who's with me?

Back to reality, I spent my afternoon in a remarkably less stimulating classroom environment drawing a still life. With art supplies, gas, food and textbooks, not to mention my current status as unemployed, it's getting harder daily to keep my kleptomaniacal urges under control.

I did vote today, but that brings to mind far too many topics, who have been ganging up and snickering at my confused little brain lately, for me to coherently link together right now. Suffice to say: I've never understood racism.

.dm.

I found this while reading some Whitman poems and it seemed appropriate.

I Sit and Look Out
Walt Whitman

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world,
and upon all oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves,
remorseful after deeds done.