Dr.Preston and Why I'm a Selfish Bastard

After much thought and fruitless angst, I've managed to reach a conclusion that my ultimate issue, is not at all you which my self and others would like to believe, but in fact the problem is indeed me. I am my own problem I am therefore eating away at my own success and progress. Ultimately the majority of this is directed at the task of active reading notes. Dr.Preston if you have not caught on by now, I have participated in the act of note taking only once and that was only to try it and I concluded that my preconceptions were quite right; I did not like active reading notes. The practice in my opinion is an absolute aberration to the natural reading process. The closest way to describe it would be if during a movie your friend would constantly pause the movie to recap and analyze the scene, which although informative, maybe even beneficial, would always result in a reaction from me of  "Stop it or GTFO". In the practice of active reading notes however its even harder if only for the fact that I don't a vexing film nerd next to me to analyze a given passage against my will; I must push myself against my own will to interrupt my reading. I could relate it to an ascetic's  self-mutilation. Exaggerated I know, but both require a level of discipline I presently lack. Anyways, all this animosity towards active reading notes was by nature of the beast, also directed at your self. You were the malignant master bent on breaking me like a stallion with assignment after assignment of note taking and I like a valiant free will would resist for the glory and honor in the resistance. The struggle moved from just the the topic of note taking to more than just that; in-class notes, journals, all were fare game in my war of civil disobedience because I would not be the loser in the fight, I would not be broken. Like a terrorist I would hijack journal topics and twist them into what I would prefer them to be. Only what struck my interest was worthy of my attention and all else would either fall to way-side or be reformed to my liking. This was my stratagem of war. In my eyes I created an oppressed proletariat out of our class and you were rather unjustly pronounced our Big Brother. My role as a McMurphy and my noble fight against the Big Nurse was totally just in the world I had created..However Dr.Preston, a thought always remained in the back of my mind. It sat eerily in a dark corner observing my campaign of bitter struggle and slowly, but surely that corner became illuminated, until finally it revealed its self as teenage angst. A skinny-jean clad, way-fairer donning fool with a mohawk to boot and when I saw him my banner fell. My war was over. Embarrassing it all was! Where was the virtue in my fight now? Once the angst in all his teenage immaturity muddled himself into my cause any sense of right or nobility was gone out the window. I realized all of this was not for the proletariat, but for my self. This grandiose struggle of myself against an authoritative figure was spawned from what originally was myself simply disliking a reoccurring assignment. I could not believe my own effrontery! Had I no shame? Running amok, throwing tantrums like a spoiled child whom never before had the need to take notes, and therefore couldn't conceive a world where it might even be advisable that he do just that.I realize now that my efforts were indeed foolish and that up to this point I have been a self-described "Selfish Bastard"... It appears that I may have fallen to my old ways in hijacking an assignment for my own purposes, however I argue that although this revelation was not formally instructed in class, it's a lesson that needed to be learned and only through your class was I capable of doing so.


<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/2C2W_O9BX4g?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>