Gregory Harvey's Blog
Friday, March 4, 2005
I don't think there is another word in the english language that applies more to itself than 'otiose', but nevertheless, it is the subject of this entry.
Have you ever sat down, looked upon your own existence, and tried to strip away all of that which youthen determine assuperfluous? When passing someone in the street who you recognize, have you ever given them a polite greeting, without slowing down, and then wondered what the point of it was? Have you ever been sitting at a bar? Thinking about whether or not to go talk to that person who's been glancing at you all night, and wondered what the problem is? Have youcontemplated the superfluous procedures built into our social order?
Have you ever asked yourself the question, why must there be laws? Surely we can ourselves determine which acts have negative consequences for our own society. Laws onlycomplicate matters, as I'm sure many have realized. How many guilty walk free, and innocent are imprisoned, solely due to the nature of unnecessary legalities? I pray for better times, when common sense is able to replace certain, superfluous, constructs.
Have you ever failed at something, only because of restrictions that have been put into place in order to fight against nothing but a prevailing sense of paranoia? Have you ever been unfairly treated in the name of equality? Have you ever had to justify your existence, if only to receive what should be freely given? Ever been swallowed in a sea of unnecessary policy that occured only as the hasty, poorly thought out reaction to a problem that never existed to begin with?
Perhaps it is time to shed away the layers of law, procedure, morals and etiquette and get back to the core of our existence.
Posted by Gregory Harvey 2005-03-04 02:47:59
Tuesday, March 1, 2005
So. You think you know something?
My mother's been on my back lately. She doesn't know she's been on my back lately, which is probably part of the problem. Here I am in Townsville. Trying to establish a new routine, trying to dig my life into a new rut, and she's calling me every night. EVERY night. It'd be alright if she had something meaningful to say but, nope. Same crap EVERY night. She's calling to check if I've got this scholarship thing handed in yet. Even though it doesn't have to be in until Friday, she's been ringing me sense... I don't know... Saturday, getting increasingly angrier that I haven't got it done yet. "It'll get done," I tell her. To which she replies, "You know how I don't like leaving things until the last minute." To which I reply in turn, "But you're not leaving anything until the last minute. I am."
She hasn't yet grasped at the fact that I need to attempt to establish some form of independence here, even if it's at best superficial. All through the holidays (where I had nothing better to do than sit at home because I live in a small town where I'm the only person my age) it became increasingly obvious to me that my own mother didn't know who I was. Perhaps because I was at boarding school during the most philosophically-definingtime of my life...
I'm planning a scheme. I'm going to ask my mother whether or not I believe in God. I want to see what kind of answer I get, if only to prove to her she's got a lot of learning to do when it comes to my philosophical approach to life... and my personality in general. I'm going to ask her what she thinks my goals in life are, who she thinks my hero is, if in fact I have one. Should make for an interesting conversation. My entire family thinks they no precisely who I am. They think they know everything about me. If only they knew the half of it...
And then there's my brother. The ever dutiful and vigilant do-gooder who seems to report back to my mother in Wallumbilla everytime I do something 'strange' (which is quite a subjective term, I remind him). The latest thing I'm doing wrong is my eating habits. My brother hasn't seen me go to dinner here once you see. (And for those of you who haven't read my entire blog 'here' is a crappy little college on campus at the uni). So he reports back to mum about how I'm "not eating" and that I "buy all my food take-away" and how I don't have enough money to "eat out all the time". Sorry, bro, I do eat here. Why don't you go to breakfast? Or lunch? So what If i'm not in for dinner much... that might bebecause I have to go to class, or perhaps I'd rather eat out with friends than stay and make fake conversation with fake people.
Is it so hard for my mother to understand my existential gripes with capitalism? People often accuse me of never thinking about the future. I do think about the future, but in a vastly different way then most. To me 'planning' the future isn't about thinking about what you're going to do tomorrow. It's about tearing apart the present. Realizing what is making you unhappy, and removing those influences. Once they're gone, youstitch the present back together, and continue living.
It's not that hard to understand me... is it?
Posted by Gregory Harvey 2005-03-01 02:38:12
Sunday, February 27, 2005
A "Beginning", of sorts.
Wow, my very own blog. Meh.
Hi, I'm Gregorius, perhaps better known as Gregory Harvey, that is if I'm known at all; by anyone, anywhere at any point in time. Did that sound angry? Hope so. Because I am.
You see, I just finished school. It was a boarding school that tried to corrupt my frail individual personality for two years straight, trying to enforce upon it crazy catholic dogma. Fortunately, I met some good friends there and together we stuck it to the man for two years.
But now that school's gone. My friend's are gone and I'm in a pissant country town called Wallumbilla where no one can even begin to comprehend the pointlessness of their own lives.
Posted by Gregory Harvey 2005-02-27 03:26:20
Sunday, February 27, 2005
What's wrong with me?
There once was a time when I could sit down all day and do nothing, without ever giving it a thought. There once was a time when I could screw around and have fun for hours on end, without even thinking about it. But nowadays, whenever I'm doing something (change that, anything) I get this feeling that I should be doing something else. An urgent feeling. Like there's something I'm meant to be doing and I'm not doing it. Like I'm wasting my life. I could be playing warcraft or talking to my friends or working on my novel... it doesn't matter. It feels like I should be doing something else.
So then, inevitably, I stop doing whatever it was I was doing, and look for something else to do. But I can never shake the feeling. Sometimes I wonder whether it's just the manifestation of a short attention span. Or whether it's because I'm bored and need to do something different. And on particularly crazy days... I even start to wonder whether there is some pre-ordained purpose for me to fulfil. Whether my life does have an actual purpose... and I'm nowhere near it.
So what's the point of this blog entry? I don't know. Who said I had to have one?
Perhaps I should go join the priesthood...
Posted by Gregory Harvey 2005-02-27 03:22:59
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Is that how you spell wierd? Anyway...
I've been having a bit of a crazy day. I mean... like a really crazy day. In that I think I, myself, have gone crazy.
You see, I woke up this morning and felt for the first time that I could peel back the layers of the world and observe it for what it truly was. That I could find a final answer to that over-arching question of "Why?".
I live in a college, and at breakfast this morning I sat at the only table that was empty. I asked myself why. The answer, of course, was that I didn't feel like using any energy what so ever in talking to other people. I didn't feel like playing pretends. I didn't feel like being social.
Then I went to my first lecture, in side of the Central Lecture Theatre. I started wondering who built it. Why? Who paid for it? Why did they pay for it? Why is this lecturer talking to me? Why am I listening? Why aren't I outside? Why aren't I doing the things I want to?
And then I started peeling back those questions. To the point where it felt like I could deconstruct the world and take a single peek at what was behind it. What it's motivations were. But where most would find divinity, or a some kind of natural order, I could see only a void of absurdity.
Why must we pretend? Why do we construct lies?
One day I'm going to jump into that void... and see where my feet land.
Posted by Gregory Harvey 2005-02-24 06:18:13