Tag Archives: essay

Harping On Truth

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Harping On Truth

I was given the assignment of answering the question, “What is truth?” in a paragraph. This is what I wrote, in case anybody wants to cheat off me. 

What is truth?

Truth is that which philosophers, artists, historians, humanists, poets, writers, and composers have sought for centuries. It is an elusive intellectual quarry, a topic that is not only difficult to define, but perhaps impossible to fully comprehend. Truth can be paradoxical: it belongs to us all collectively, yet to none of us individually. There is no my truth, no your truth—there is simply truth. Truth is immutable, omnipresent, and definite. Truth is the complete absence of subjectivity: one may not argue with truth, lest they be a fool, for it is a losing endeavor that only a fool would undertake. Truth can not be swayed, it can not be bargained with or bought off or bribed. Truth does not bend to the whims or the aims of mortals; do not mistake the employment of lies, delusion, and treachery with the conscription of truth, for they are not the same. Truth is beauty: unblemished, incorruptible, perfect. Truth is god, and all those who seek truth seek god, yet not all those who seek god seek truth.

So what is truth?

Truth is a perfect chord upon a perfect instrument that can only be imperfectly comprehended by imperfect ears, but if you listen closely enough, you can usually make it out all right— even if you can’t quite put it into words.

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Deconstructing Pinocchio; or, Will The Real Boy Please Stop Dancing?

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Deconstructing Pinocchio; or, Will The Real Boy Please Stop Dancing?

I don’t think Walt Disney intended for Pinocchio to be an absolutely terrifying experience for his audience, but to me it certainly was. Living wooden puppets with bugs for consciences and creepy old men who are really into making said puppets and also other creepy old men that are really into taking said puppets and turning them into slave donkeys and some fairy chick who essentially just popped in from time to time when things get especially fucked to say “I told you so” and bail?

I’m pretty sure that movie was my first drug experience.

I was about five or so when I first saw the film and heard the song “I’ve Got No Strings,” but it wasn’t until my early twenties that I got anything out of either (aside from sheer terror). In college, I developed a fondness for the Bildungsroman and picaresque novel, two forms of storytelling that I related to on a personal level. Read the rest of this entry