This website has no other purpose than to display Chris Barclay's apparent lack of writing talent.

Traditional Sitcom Summer [Update]

Traditional Sitcom Summer [Update]

I've been thinking a lot about what the soundtrack would be if my summer were made into a movie. This song would slowly pan over me, wasting this precious time, and then it'd kick into some bumping montage of the city. I've got it all thought up in my mind.

I bring this up because I have been wasting my summer. An intoxicating force has swept itself over me, and now I'm trapped in this mindset of indolence and indulgence. It's pathetic, really. I haven't even kept up my simple goal of posting every week, and I have oodles of free time during the summer.

One of the times where I don't feel like I'm truly wasting time is when I'm running. I try to run nearly everyday, but some days I don't try. Whenever I run, which is usually around a lake near my house, I am reminded of that one powerful scene in Bojack Horseman at the end of season 2. I also listen to The Smiths when I run, and I never listen to them when I'm not running. It's the only way I can encourage myself to run in the first place.

Every day it gets a little easier. But you have to do it every day. That’s the hard part. But it does get easier.
— Season 2 of Bojack Horseman

It seems as though there's nothing left for me to say... I tried drinking water until I couldn't drink any more water. I drank a cup of water, stood by the faucet in the kitchen—it was dark, around 11:20pm, and nobody was awake anymore—and I decided to keep refilling the glass of water and drinking slowly. I wanted to know what would happen. 

I stopped when I realized I have two job training sessions tomorrow: one for a donut shop near my home, and another at a pizza place farther away. My thought is that having a job will give me more structure, and I'll start developing a better sleeping habit.

In other news, I went to court today. While waiting for my case to be heard, I read out of my boring summer reading book about plants: do we control them or do they control us . . . oooooo ~spooky~! The book has the unfortunate characteristic of discussing the myth of Jonny Appleseed with such a bland and uninteresting monotone, and although the author illustrates all the different variants of apples in typical belles lettres pazazz, the shiny words only detract from the fundamentally void construct of the novel. It got to one section discussing how apples are becoming weaker as we keep throwing pesticide on them. Since apples are spliced from the branch to create a new apple tree (we can't grow them from the seed, it's a whole thing), and since we keep using the same kinds of apple trees because they're sweeter and better tasting than the others, and because we've become a society reliant on synthesized sugars and fast-food and salt/sugary everything and blah blah you've heard it before, the genetic code for apples is becoming standardized. Apple trees are becoming less and less genetically diverse, which is bad considering one insect or plague could potentially get past our pesticides and kill all of the apple trees. Not to mention, whenever we choose one apple tree over all the others, those variants die out and no others are planted. 

The fun question, which our boring book leaves out, is the comparison to our society. What if we're going to grow so satisfied and content with the sugar and pulp of our lives? Will we be wiped out like apple trees?

There's an annoying alarm on the elevator at my father's workplace, a loud BUZZZZZ noise. My father joked that maybe the engineer who designed the elevator was a sadist who enjoyed how painful the sound was for others, especially when since the engineer wouldn't have to put up with it for years after. It got me thinking about what use pain has in our society. Would we want to live in a pain-free society, where all the bad thoughts were thrown away? In the show House of Cards, Frank Underwood says this about pain:

There are two kinds of pain. The sort of pain that makes you strong, or useless pain. The sort of pain that’s only suffering. I have no patience for useless things.
— Frank Underwood, House of Cards

Running isn't necessarily painful, and in some sort of masochistic way it's actually a nice feeling. I've toyed with the notion of trying to enjoy pain, not in a sexual way but what if instead of wincing and jerking away you tried embracing it. Not in some life-threatening or extreme way, but perhaps turning the water in the shower all the way to the coldest setting and seeing how long you can bare it. It reinforces the notion that being tough isn't something you're born with, that it's something one has to go out and take action and work towards, that you're going to get nowhere without pain, because maybe at the deepest level pain gives us some form of agency, we can't become complacent with it and we have to move forwards and better ourselves or our environment

I've also been going on more college trips recently. My favorite part about going out and seeing colleges is always the library, followed by the food I get afterwards, and the sensation of being finished with college searching for the day. Like pain, though, I feel it would be nice to endure going without any sugary foods or salty or anything foods. Not bland, but without the large concentration of synthesized taste. Back in the 1700's, the sweetness of fruit was the most exultant and sweet and divine and rich taste. I want to experience that. Like the feeling of regaining eyesight, or sensation out of a sensory-deprivation tank.

I've also been thinking a lot about the popstar Poppy and what her videos mean. If you don't know who ThatPoppy is, imagine a self-conscious robotic Ariana Grande ruled by some hidden illuminati-esque power. Poppy posts really weird videos, and they intrigue me.

I wish I had more to say. There are some pages from Understanding David Foster Wallace I could include. Here they are:

A horrifying prospect is that I'm living in a sit-com. I'm watching TV and in my little TV show or movie I'm just being watched, sitting there, unaware of being watched. It'd follow the same basic rules for a sitcom:

  1. Nothing ever changes. 

  2. Although a new problem may be introduced, it is usually solved by the end of the episode and everything returns to normal.

  3. The characters rarely change/develop.

  4. Small Regular Cast: Allows for the possibility for more story lines.

  5. A broad target audience for show

  6. Realism: Most sitcoms, even those based in fantasy offer the impression of a real world vision. The desired effect is to make you think you are looking through a fourth wall into their “normal lives.”

I took this list from a word doc 5 BASIC CHARACTERISTICS OF A TRADITIONAL SITCOM yes in all caps. But that's what my life has been like recently, and even though I listen to the Smiths while running or feel distant when listening to one song, nothing ever changes. It's like my life is moving past me, but it's all so far away that I can't see it moving.

Rambling thoughts of a newly indoctrinated Pizza Boy

Rambling thoughts of a newly indoctrinated Pizza Boy

Stupid Unsent Belles Lettres Letters

Stupid Unsent Belles Lettres Letters