On the shuttle ride back from the mall, I talked with a former classmate of mine. He thought I was a Computer Science major. We discussed the internet and identity fraud.

In my Roman Republic class, I talked with a different former classmate. She thought I was a political science major. We had taken a course on Machiavelli together. We discussed history.

An old high school classmate thought I would do something with politics and the world. She never would have imagined me being a philosophy major or teaching.

One of my uncles always tells me that I look like a professor.

I recently had lunch with my friend, and she noticed how The Chalkboard Manifesto touches on a broad variety of subjects. I said it probably had to do with all the different classes I’ve taken. Upon reflection, I think it says something about my identity. My interests are wide, so my art reflects that.

For some reason, I’m really proud that it’s hard to put me into one category. I want to live my life such that I am very hard to define. I didn’t realize until now that I had a pretty good start.

I hate my last entry. It sounds affected. Blech.

I’m working on something new. It will be a series of short dialogues based on the post-its I’ve accumulated over the years. I wonder if I have enough for something substantive.

1) He’s very smart, but he’s also very stupid.

2) He’s very clever, but he’s also very stupid.

I contend that statement 1 can be interpreted in a way that makes sense. Statement 2, by contrast, makes no sense at all.

Am I right? It probably depends on what connotations you attach to the words “clever” and “smart.”

I equate “smart” with the kind of person who’d score high on an IQ test, and I equate “clever” with the cunning Odysseus. Now, “cunning” has a connotation of deceitfulness. Temporarily step aside from your moral predilections, and you see that the clever person has an understanding of the human mind that the smart person does not. We know geniuses who can’t relate to people. This person is incapable of deception because he can’t get inside another’s mind and figure out how that other person would react. The clever person understands people and knows how to get them to do what he wants.

Can the clever person be stupid? Yes, perhaps. Let’s remember the example of the fox who fell into the well. He tricked the goat into getting him back out, leaving the goat stuck in the well.

The clever person may be tremendously wrong, but he can sway others more easily, and is flexible enough to recover from his mistakes. A smart person relies on his abstractions to get through the world, while the clever person relies on also understanding people. We deal with people in the world, not abstractions.

The lesson? Clever people are more dangerous than those that are merely smart.

I slogged through over 200 pages of reading today. Yup, I’m back in school alright.

Despite prayers, God forsakes Kurt Warner. In perhaps the most bizarre event of the game, God made a personal appearance and said, “I don’t give a shit about your football game. Stop praying to me on game day.”

“There’s man all over for you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet.” — Vladimir, Waiting for Godot

I want to write a book with footnotes. It will be fiction and brimming with footnotes. Except none of these footnotes will actually exist. The pages will teem with 1’s, 2’s, 3’s, 4’s, or maybe asterisks and daggers, but there will be no accompanying note. The reader will just be left to wonder₁ what these numbers mean, and what the author meant to add.

I started on the 26th with a new habit I wanted to acquire: Writing down my 3 most important tasks in the morning.

So far, I’ve written them down every morning. That’s excellent.

It’s much better than having a really long to-do list, which will always disappoint because you can never finish it. I’ll add other things to the list, but I make sure to take care of the important things first. As Baltasar Gracian wrote, “A wise man does at once, what a fool does at last.”

Of the 5 days I’ve been doing this, I didn’t finish the MITs on two days. They were both Tuesday and Thursday, when I have the biggest class load. On Tuesday, I finished two of three MITs. On Thursday, I decided to only give myself two MITs, and then I ended up doing none of them. I got a lot more done on Friday, though, which I felt made up for it.

I was able to focus enough to finish my 3 current projects. As I wrote down my next 3 goals, I wanted to do so much more. I stopped myself. I limited myself to only 3 things.

We’ll see what happens as I get further into the school year, and the work piles up. For now, I’ll be proud of these small achievements. They’re the bricks, the foundation of something larger that we’ll only see a year from now.

Almost since the beginning of my comic, I’ve had this crushing fear of running out of ideas. It wasn’t until the day before yesterday that I realized how absurd it was. Here I am, almost 4 years later with over 400 comics, and I kept worrying that I would run out of ideas? What the heck?

As long as I’m living my life and observing it, I won’t ever run out of ideas.

A few days days ago, I sat in front of my computer ready to type. After weeks of frantic hanging out time in California, I finally had the solitude I sought. I was ready to write out something amazing. I had the time. But the words did not come.

I searched for something to write within my mind. Everything felt stale. I felt dull. “C’mon, I’m bored; I got nothing better to do. I should write,” I told myself.

I had no ideas. Or rather, I had nothing valuable to share with the world. I could not write.

A day later, I had several intriguing conversations with friends via instant messenger. One was about race, and one was about heartbreak. I found my mind buzzing with ideas — a storm of bees colliding with each other. I saw conflict; I saw beauty; new ideas burst forth.

No, my metaphors are confused. My mind was hard and barren. My old ideas decorate this landscape as trees who’ve lost their leaves and luster. Talking with my friends was like tilling the soil. New ideas grew rapidly — buds in spring.

Now, these ideas need to be cared for, so they can grow into something beautiful. Then, I will put them on display so people can admire them.

I had several bouts of boredom when I came back to school in Baltimore. I didn’t want to do anything, and I couldn’t think of anything new. For me, the cure for this is to talk to my friends. Really, it’s my panacaea. When I feel trapped by the drudgery of routine, I must open up to other people. When I am depressed and lonely, I must open up to other people. When I feel like life is dull and stale, I must open up to other people.

I am largely reactive when it comes to ideas. I need something in front of me. Tell me to sit down and write something funny, and I will be stumped. I find my best comedy comes when I’m in a store and I have a million items that just ask for a funny comment. My ideas for comedy and philosophy come mostly from my interaction with other people. I need outside stimulation.

Without my friends, I’d have nothing. I’d be a dull person with stale ideas. When I find myself feeling like that kind of person, I have to remember to seek out my friends.

Instead of being all mopey and sad that I’m going back to Baltimore, I’ve decided to be pumped up. There’s a lot that I can accomplish there, especially when it comes to my comic. I also can establish more discipline.

See you on the other side, dear readers.

I’m having trouble focusing on just one thing. Occasionally, I will have flashes of inspiration, but I haven’t been able to translate it into action. I’m typing downstairs right now because I find it impossible to focus when trying to type on the laptop in my room. While at school, I complain about not having a car. Now, though, I don’t have anywhere convenient to walk to when I need to just get away. I’d have to take a car to get to the library, but I have to share the car with my other family members. I suppose a possible solution is to get dropped off somewhere for a couple of hours, and then I can make myself work.

I also am don’t want to commit to anything. Spending time reading is taking away time from writing. Spending time doing X is taking away time from doing Y. It’s hard to get anything done unless you do one thing at a time, but I’m reluctant to commit to one thing. I can’t even read an article on the internet without flipping to another tab. It’s stupid, but sometimes I’ll read two articles at once. At least right now I only have one tab open.

Every time I’ve thought about productivity, I’ve thought about frenzy. I thought I had to be in a hyperactive state to be prolific. Perhaps it’s the exact opposite. Maybe I need to slow down. Do one thing at a time. Don’t think about what’s coming next. Just focus on what’s in front of me. I don’t know when’s the last time I felt really calm. For the past week or so, I’ve often been in a state of anticipation, waiting to hang out with my friends.

Our modern world seems to encourage a frenetic, multi-tasking lifestyle. The back of James Gleick’s book, Faster says, “Society’s in overdrive with no signs of braking.” Sure, multi-tasking will make me look busier but you don’t get shit done. Bouncing from activity to activity doesn’t provide adequate focus. Everytime you get interrupted, it takes another few minutes to get back into the flow of things. I have this terrible habit of playing music while I try to do work. Yet I don’t set a playlist, so I end up clicking on a new song every 3-4 minutes. It’s impossible to focus when working under those conditions.

So what? I’m saying I need to block time to work on something. I need to slow down. I need to do one thing at a time. I need to minimize interruptions. This isn’t anything I haven’t told myself before. But this is supposedly the year of discipline, so I’m actually going to have to do something about it. I’m not going to do anything drastic or revolutionary. I’m just going to praise myself everytime I do those things I need to do. Like right now, I haven’t flipped to check my e-mail or anything. I did get distracted by conversation with my sister, but whatever. Baby steps, haha.

The computer is just one giant distraction machine, isn’t it? I’ve got billions of things to distract me. Will power is a limited resource. Is working on the computer just going to sap me like being in the city? It may be wise to download one of those programs that will make my computer screen one giant word editor. I’ll experiment with that. It may fail because I need the internets so much, but I should just try it first.

I’m reconsidering my idea of moving the weblog because of Anirudh’s comment:

Everyone seems to go through this dilemma. It might be really hard if you start over from scratch and it’s worse if you’re writing it with an idea that people should want to read it. Also, online personas are overrated :)

While a symbolic reset is good, it’s stressful. I tried moving all my technical material to another domain and something just didn’t click.

The best thing to do at this time, as a friend of mine suggests, is to meet other weblog authors with similar mindsets, not necessarily the one’s you know in real life. Since everybody loves getting email you can get in touch with some of them.

I found it really nice and almost therapeutic to write to people who write online and keep up with their life.

How the city hurts your brain
An article about how the city overwhelms our brain while nature is more calming. I should add some type of “interact with nature” thing to my Laws.

A New Cigarette Hazard: ‘Third-Hand Smoke’
Wow, another reason not to smoke.

This “Agnoiologist” blog started on March 10, 2003. Originally, I was on a subdomain for agnoiology.com, and then I moved the blog to agnoiology.com proper. I’ve gone through some minor and major site redesigns, including completely changing the backend with a switch from MT to WordPress. Even with all these changes, the nearly six years have felt as if they’ve happened in one place. It was like I rearranged the furniture and even got a new phone number, but I’ve still been living in the same house. I’ve got an itch for something new and this time a redesign is not enough. It’s time to move on. It’s time to find a new home.

I’m not leaving quite yet. I’m still looking for that new place. My plan is to find a new URL for my weblog. I’m not sure if I’ll migrate all the old entries over or not. Regardless, I’m keeping up this website. I like having this public record of who I’ve been these past 6 years, even though I’m embarrassed by much of what I’ve written. Of course, I’m very proud of some of the writing.

It’ll be good to do this as a symbolic reset. It’ll allow me to form a new online persona. I also want a URL that’ll be easier to remember.

I “co-wrote” an article with my friend, Nick (guest post here), a while back in the Black Student Union’s news-letter, Perspectives. We didn’t communicate well, so Nick did most of the writing. I changed the ending, wanting to include a call to action. He added a bit more, and there it was. I probably would’ve forgotten about it if it wasn’t for something my friend Ryan said afterwards.

He’s the one who edited the article, and he noticed the tone was a little different at the end. He correctly accused me of writing it. I jokingly wondered if that was a bad thing, but he told me it was good. It made him inspired to act. The article was about how both parties were not doing what was in the best interest of the African-American community, like how Democrats took them for granted and how Republicans liked to take pictures with black people instead of working on issues (this was before Obama). I included a call to make sure one’s voice was heard, instead of lost within these two parties. (Perhaps I should find the actual text sometime.) It wasn’t the most elegant, poetic thing I’ve written, but it was good to hear that I helped light a fire within someone. When the protests took place after the whole racist party affair, I think Ryan said something about those words helping inspire him to act. Putting aside the politics of the issue, I’m really happy to have done my little part to spark a flame big enough that it led to action.

That’s the kind of person I want to be. The whole positivity paradigm I was talking about included being an uplifting, positive person. But I want to extend beyond my personal circle of friends. I want to inspire people to act. And that’s the kind of politician I want to be. I want to be the kind of public figure who inspires millions not only during his or her lifetime, but for generations after.

Because I am so enamored with myself, I kept a list of all my facebook statuses for 2008:

Shawn saw Tony and Angela get divorced.
Shawn has a special announcement coming.
Shawn is not leaving this Sunday; he is leaving the following Sunday. Good news!
Shawn is watching Sanford and Son.
Shawn is going back to Baltimore tomorrow. *sigh*.
Shawn enjoys yelling at the television. SEVEN FIFTY! ONE DOLLAR!
Shawn is recovering from the SARS and pumped for Super Tuesday.
Shawn is still recovering from the SARS.
Shawn is getting his daily dose of Wilford Brimley. Yet another reason to love The Price is Right.
Shawn is OVER 9000!!!
Shawn is total. TOTAL ECLIPSE, that is.
Shawn would walk 500 miles.
Shawn is hoping for a knock-out blow.
Shawn is going to do everything he can to help Obama win in Pennsylvania.
Shawn doesn’t think Obama will win Pennsylvania, but Obama will still end up with a bigger delegate lead at the convention.
Shawn is oh so close to spring break.
Shawn is back from Spring Break. *sigh*.
Shawn is going to have a lonely weekend.
Shawn is King Dedede. Ee-yup!
Shawn can’t fight in here! This is the War Room.
Shawn shouldn’t be surprised that ABC News would sink so low, but, nonetheless, he is shocked.
Shawn is thinking about Pennsylvania instead of work.
Shawn is worried about (another) all-out civil war in Iraq, and also why the media doesn’t harp on this instead of the Distraction of the Day.
Shawn is suffering from insomnia. argh.
Shawn is excited about the next round of primaries. Obama’s delegate lead will widen.
Shawn is waiting on Lake County.
Shawn is optimistic that Obama has essentially secured the nomination.
Shawn is not drinking before 11, really, he’s not. Done with finals.
Shawn hates packing.
Shawn is back home.
Shawn is just around the river bend.
Shawn is excited! Obama is the nominee!
Shawn is a Siamese cat who pretends he’s a chihuahua.
Shawn is wanted dead or alive or none of the above.
Shawn is aware of all internet traditions.
Shawn is what long trousers?
Shawn just watched Nathan’s hot dog eating contest. CHESTNUT WINS! CHESTNUT WINS! USA! USA!
Shawn is psyched for rafting!
Shawn is trying blue. It’s the new red!
Shawn will hit you with so many objects you’ll think you’re a Taiwanese politician.
Shawn needs to put together his filing cabinet.
Shawn is back from a video game marathon in Davis.
Shawn used to smoke pot with Johnny Hopkins.
Shawn has no phone, no lights, no motorcar. Well, he does have a phone.
Shawn once said, “If you are a racist, I will attack you with the North.”
Shawn likes how his friends still have rafting photos as their profile pics.
Shawn is listening to cats on mars.
Shawn had an interesting thought about noodles the other day.
Shawn temporarily switched places with someone who looks exactly like him. Watch out.
Shawn could put lipstick on an insurance company, or a pig; it’s still an insurance company.
Shawn is tomorrow homeward bound (starring Michael J. Fox and Sally Field).
Shawn put a gun in the waistband of his sweat pants and then shot himself in the thigh.
Shawn is waltzing with snowflakes. (LSD + Tchaikovsky = Awesome.)
Shawn is emerging from his finals-induced hibernation.
Shawn is laughing his ass off at the Cowboys.

“I was really inspired by everybody’s mustaches, so when Shaun threw me the ball I had to spike it as hard as I could in honor of mustache magic.” — David Baas

Mustache magic, hahaha.

From my notebook, in late November:

“Whatever happens, happens. Failure happens. Live with it. The point isn’t that you’ll never feel melancholy. The point is that you remind yourself it’s temporary, and force yourself to stay on track.”

From my notebook in August:

“A lawyer turned politician? How boring! I want my biography to jump off the page.”

Note: That last sentence originally came first, but I switched it for this weblog.

From my notebook in late April:

“To break away from the drudgery of routine, you need to open yourself up to other people.”

That’s something I need to remember when I go back to school in late January.

Well, only one final left. I’ve already written 30 pages worth of essays, and co-wrote a report for a computer programming project. I’ve barely studied for that last final too. Yeah, it’s a rough life, haha. Almost done. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Heck, it just might be beginning to look like Christmas.

I have this idea to post all of my essays from previous years on this web site. Maybe I can tell if I’ve improved or not.