Tchaika

…and Arthur woke and called,
'Who spake? A dream. O light upon the wind,
Thine, Gawain, was the voice--are these dim cries
Thine? or doth all that haunts the waste and wild
Mourn, knowing it will go along with me?'
-Tennyson

Monotony. Ubiquitous, crushing boredom and spirit-breaking work, punctuated by brief moments of terror. This is a strange life.

I finished DeLillo’s Underworld. By a strange coincidence, I picked up another book at random, and not more than ten pages into it, the author mentions DeLillo. Anyway, I know that plenty of people see it as a great modern American masterpiece, but I really think it is not. I like the way he writes dialogue, but I couldn’t tell you the story of the book even if you put a gun to my head. This is something I’ve noticed about many so-called modern classics of American literature: they have no story. Nothing exciting or enthralling happens. Maybe I am an unwashed prole, but I need conflict and struggle in my fiction. What is the point of reading a story where nothing exciting happens? The whole reason people read is to escape their own lives, where nothing exciting happens.

Perhaps the literary community is just as bad as the film community. You probably can’t even count the number of bad movies that have been released in the last few years that somehow got rave reviews despite bad story, characters you can’t relate to, bad cinematography, etc. Titanic comes to mind, or Vanilla Sky. A Beautiful Mind was really bad, too. Who honestly likes a movie where the protagonist is so unlikeable? Anyway, maybe books are the same way. A book critic gets to the end of the book, scratches his head and says “what the hell was that book about?” Then he realizes that it must be so brilliant that he can’t figure it out. But he doesn’t want to look like he’s not smart enough to figure out the plot, so he writes a review praising the book. Because if you praise something, people assume that you do understand it.

Had an Iraqi chicken colonel come through the other day. The battalion commander was with him, giving him the nickel tour, I guess. I showed them around my AO, with the interpreter trailing along behind us. I really wish I knew Arabic. I hate not being able to communicate directly with people. In Mexico and Germany, I may not be able to debate ontological empiricism, but I can at least talk to people about food or movies or where the bathroom is. I don’t even know how to say hello in Arabic. I need to change this. I assumed I’d pick it up while I was here, but we’re working such long hours that I don’t want to go talk to the Hajis when I’m done. I just want to fall into my rack. I’ve got an Arabic CD and book that I keep meaning to look at, but I’m exhausted all the time. I fall asleep if I read something boring, like a manual. I don’t know if I could concentrate enough to learn a language in this environment. I’ll try, though.

I am looking forward to this last game. We have the chance, here, to make sports history. Not just college football history, but sports history. When we play well, we can outplay anybody. It’s like the world’s greatest guitarist, but his hand keeps falling asleep during the concert. If we can keep from falling asleep, we have the opportunity to do several things. First, we can unseat the team that is generally viewed as the nation’s best. Secondly, we can reassert our rivalry—they haven’t taken us seriously since 1999, and it’s time we started making them worry about Thanksgiving more than the Red River Shootout. Also, I’m tired of Tech calling themselves our rivals. Our rival is Texas, not some overgrown junior college. Thirdly, we will get more television coverage next year if we win this game, which is great for recruiting. Fourthly, Fran will prove he wasn’t a mistake, which I am at this point convinced that he was. Lastly, it will be one of the greatest stories in sports history. A team having trouble finding itself, with young players and a desperate coaching staff, humiliates the best team in the nation. That’s the stuff they make movies about.

They should make another movie about us. That crappy Sean Astin movie did wonders for Notre Dame.

BTHO t.u. We can do this if we don’t make stupid mistakes. My solemn promise to you: if we win, I will fly my Aggie flag on the pole the next day. Gig ‘em.