A Void

I'm still loving things I am taught. Daily, I am taught. How fantastic.

Monday in my first class, my prof told us about an author. His fourth work is "La Disparition," and its translation is "A Void." A stunning fact about this book is that in his final copy, this author's writing did not contain his country's most common linguistic sign.

The letter "e."

Okay, so I wrote the above paragraph without using the letter "e," and that was the most difficult thing I've yet attempted on this blog. Georges Perec, French author of "La Disparition," wrote a 300-page novel without using the most common letter in the French language, the letter "e." This novel has now been translated by 8 different authors, and each translation has followed this same lipogrammatic constraint in each respective language. The English version does not contain the letter E. The Spanish version does not contain the letter "A," which is the most common letter in its language.

I think language is one of the most incredible art forms we experience. (See Rusco for more discussion on art forms, however). I do not begin to understand or be familiar with all the intricacies of language, but this struck me as a beautiful example of the creativity--the same creativity that is found in art and literature--being present in language. The author challenging himself to work outside the normal bounds of linguistics: Ahh.

I've been thinking lately about things I want. If I made a list this moment of the things I would probably purchase today if I had unlimited cash, it would include all of the following (and probably some other things):
An iPhone
An iPod Touch
Some other brand of Phone with unrestrained internet access
A new Macbook
A new guitar
Guitar effects Pedals
A grand piano
A Flat Screen TV

I would venture to say that I do not need any of these things. I currently possess machines that accomplish all of the tasks these additional items would be used for. I rarely even watch Television. In fact, about 95% of me is sure that this desire for a flat-screen would exclusively be to feed my college football addiction and is not related to regular scheduled television whatsoever. But still, anytime any of these things are mentioned, or I look at the scuffed surface of my two-year old Macbook, or I send a text message in class on my loud-buttoned cell phone, or I am too lazy to haul said Macbook around campus in my bag in order to have wireless internet at my fingertips, my mind lusts after these oh-so-useful items.

Now, lately, I have been slightly sickened by my own consumerism mentality. Also, I have been trying to figure out at what point the Biblical concept of "covetousness" begins, and the effectiveness of American marketing schemes ends. When society says "Buy, Buy, Buy!" and I want immediately to go and buy, is that me just listening to the stimuli that have been strategically placed in my everyday interactions, or am I beginning to be too much "in the world?" I do not want to make this a question of uber-conservativism or me being ruled by my own legalism, this is just something lately I've been fascinated by.

Let me just say, I love the "I like" Facebook feature. There is something so perceptive of American culture for creators of a website to realize that people were searching for the ability to spend one click to acknowledge having spent at least 2 hours viewing photos, reading notes, browsing their friends' status updates, and generally just wasting time, without even having to spend 15-20 seconds typing a single sentence. Now that, my friends, is the American Dream.

No, but really, I LOVE the "I like" thing. In fact, I love it so much, I really wish we could start applying it to real life. For instance, when various organizations have their booth set up on the south oval, I really wish I could not take their flyer, but could simply give them the unambiguous "Thumbs-Up" to acknowledge that I do see what they are doing, and I "Like This."

This morning, I had a terribly uncomfortable experience which made me really wish the Real-Life "Like" feature had already taken off. About a month ago, my friend Corey asked if I would mind doing some music for an event her organization was putting on. "Sure!" I had said at the time, thankful for any opportunity offered to me. The event was being put on by ASAA, which is "Advocates for Sexual Assault Awareness." They were going to have resources available for learning about the dangers of Sexual Assault, and for victims of Sexual Assault to gain information if needed. A legitimate cause, I would say. They wanted to have live music throughout the event to draw people's attention and make people feel comfortable. The event was to be held in the Crossroads Lounge.

Let's discuss this for a moment.

Crossroads Lounge is a fairly open space just adjacent to Crossroads Restaurant in the Student Union, for those of you who are unfamiliar. There are seats facing two directions, and large big screen TVs on either end which can generally be found to be tuned in to CNN and ESPN, respectively.

People in Crossroads Lounge are not interested in listening to music.

They are also not interested in Sexual Assault Awareness.

They are there to eat their burger and curly fries and check MLB stats.

This is awkward.

In addition to this, when I had said yes to Corey, she let me know she was having several people play, etc. When she messaged me this week with the schedule for the morning, she said "Yeah, Katie, if you could play from 10-1130 that would be great."

An hour and a half is a long fancy time.

So, around 1015, I wander awkwardly up to where the microphones are set up. This, by the way, is DIRECTLY to the left of the big screen tuned in to ESPN.

This is awkward.

I uncomfortably mumble something about being there as part of "Think Teal" day, and to check out the booths in the back, and then start, voice shaking, into the first song.

SO awkward.

I would venture to say that this was one of the most extended uncomfortable experiences I have faced. There are several reasons for this.

1) I am used to playing for people who are there to listen to music. I am not used to being in competition with the sports channel in a lounge at a school like OU.

2) I am used to playing for people I know. I had a maximum of 2 friends present at any time during the performance. This is not a dish on my friends, because I did not advertise this because it was not going to be the performance of the year, but there is definitely something to be said for having friendly faces in the crowd.

3) I was getting little to no feedback of any kind, and the feedback I was getting was indiscernible at best. The first several songs I played received no applause whatsoever, I think because people were still fairly confused about what was going on. The songs following received sporadic applause. This is confusing as an artist and really makes you want to crawl away and die (I resisted this urge).

This is where the "Like" feature of real life would have been SO handy. For instance, there were many people who were walking by, looking in, and continuing to walk. There were also some people who sat and listened for awhile, and then got up and left. Maybe they had class, but there remained a large possibility in my mind that they think I suck. There was absolutely no way to tell the difference between these two categories of audience members.

On occasion, I would get a smile from a person walking by. Generally, the smile is considered a sign of acknowledgment and general pleasant feeling, but how was I to know whether this was a look of pity or obligatory encouragement like Paula smiles at the auditioners who absolutely fail so miserably but are cute while they do it? (American Idol reference, yes, I know, I am ashamed.)

So, it was in these not-so-few moments of excruciating discomfort that I wished so desperately that the "Like" feature existed in real life, simply so I could have some idea of what the people walking by were thinking. It would have been fine for them to keep walking, if I could only have had acknowledgment from them that I am not a musical failure.

So, something to think about. Next time you see someone playing music in the Union foodcourt, give them the face-book coined version of the thumbs-up and continue with your day.

Maybe even a real-life Like-Attack is in order?