Platypus of Truth

Well, things are finally looking good for my poor little ear. After the world's longest running ear infection I've finally been able to get in touch with a specialist. Turns out the problem is not my ear, but my sinuses. Loads of drugs later, my ear has finally drained and I'm feeling a heck of a lot better. I have a follow-up visit on Wednesday and I'll be on super-drugs through the end of the month just to make sure I don't have a relapse. Praise God! Oh, and the 300 Spartans from Frank Miller's "300" are just there for moral support.

What is it about secrets that's so appealing to us as human beings? Why do we need to keep repeating the cliche that "curiosity killed the cat." The Da Vinci code, a piece of pulp fiction, makes a bunch of farcical claims and millions of people take them for gospel. Hidden knowledge. Dark secrets. Ancient wisdom. The whisper, the temptation is power. To know a thing is to have a certain power over it. It becomes possible to manipulate it or predict how it will act. To know a thing is to flirt with a powerful illusion: the illusion of control. When we know more, when science has advanced, then, then we will have control; then we will be able to. We're like wizards in Ursula Le Guin's "Earthsea" thinking that if we know the true name of a thing then that gives us power over it. During the renaissance, we are told that science triumphed over magic and alchemy because science could produce quantifiable results. The more I consider the nature of the human he...

I was looking at some of my Dad's old comics today. He found them in a box while preparing for a move. One in particular caught my eye: "The Incredible Hulk." I had just read a comic staring the Hulk that can't have been more than a year old. Since 1969 Bruce Banner hasn't aged a day. He's still a few years out of grad school, still has all his hair, still young and hip and powerful. So are our heroes. Theirs is the glory of Achilles: to remain forever young, forever the best of the Achaeans. But every Achilles must have his Odysseus. That reminded me of the preface Alan Moore wrote for Frank Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns." The genius of the work, as Moore points out, is that here alone are we allowed to witness the twilight of a hero. Through Frank Miller's story we see the unthinkable in our youth-worshiping society, the decline and slow death of a cultural icon. He faces all the things we dread: the dying friends, the whitening of th...

I just found out that the final prof has signed off on my thesis. This means that I can pick up the paperwork next week and send it off to the university thesis reader! The reader checks for spelling and grammatical errors and for conformity to the university thesis format. Once he/she signs off on it, I have it printed on rag cotton paper and hand it in to the bookstore by August 11th as the final step to completing my degree. Oh, and the picture's of Xenophon A.K.A. "I sold my discourse for Spartan gold and all I got was this lousy tunic."

Much speculation has revolved around what exactly is wrong with my left ear. After consulting with Prof. Bruttenholm (pronounced "broom"), speculation has increasingly pointed to it becoming a focal point for the Ogdru Jahad, an ancient, evil being of unimaginable and apocalyptic capability (see picture). Second opinions are in the works...

I received an email this morning saying that the final member of my thesis committee will be signing of on my thesis tomorrow or Wednesday. Once that's done, I can begin the final process of sending it off to the university reader for editing and then filing it with the bookstore as the last hurdle to clear so that I can get my degree (M.A. History). In other news, I have temporarily run out of comics. Entertainment now consists of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein." It's quite good and nothing like the movies. I've just finished another round of treatment for the world's longest running ear infection with to no avail. Reports that it has been infested by an alien slugbeast or the Ogdru Jahad are greatly exaggerated...

Comic Books. Not my all time favorite form of amusement, but I certainly can't knock them; especially after the semester is over and I can barely read. When you've seen a quarter of a century pass by though, it's hard to find something that will satisfy your maturing tastes. I mean it's not like it was in Junior High when all you wanted were cool super powers, trite dialog, spandex, and lots of flash. A brain that's been wrestling for the past two years with post-colonialism and French structuralism 24/7 has a hard time slowing down to the level of "pow," "wham," "zot," even when it's fried and trying desperately to detox. Fortunately, it seems that as the comic readers of yesteryear have grown up, so has the target audience. So what have I been reading? Hmm... good question. Frank Miller's "Batman: Year One" and "The Dark Night Returns." Dark, brooding, and gothic, Miller reaches into the heart of wha...

My second thesis committee member emailed me today to say that he has signed my thesis and is passing the forms on to the final member. Hurray!!! Two down, one to go! In other news, the doctor has just fired off a perscription for my ear. This will be really high test stuff, so hopefully it will knock out the little puddle of stagnant fluid that's left in my left ear. That's the news. My brain is too fried for musings right now. The Platypus has a few of his own, but right now I think he's taking a nap. Platypi are nocturnal, you know.