Writer's Blo(g)ck

So here I am once again for another blog, feeling like I haven't had enough Parasites classes since last week to generate any new ideas. I've been sick since Friday and my energy is depleted in all departments. My mind and body have also fallen prey to what I like to call 'Post-Midterm Apathy Syndrome' whereas an individual simply cannot maintain the same level of enthusiasm he or she once maintained in the halcyon days of the quarter. All of these things are by no means an excuse, simply a context within which I will attempt to do my duty of communicating thought this evening. The understood fodder for discussion outside of general classroom discussion and provocation (which as I mentioned before, I feel I have not had enough of due to missing class last Wednesday and not having it on Monday) is that book we've been reading, Michel Serres' The Parasite. The sheer difficulty of the book (I stopped myself from almost calling it a novel) has honestly just about stifled my interest in making parasitical philosophical discussions. I will explain that. I have no doubt as to the intellectual prowess of Michel Serres, and I'm sure it was way better in French, but I couldn't stand The Parasite as a digestible reading. Because the theories, while often interesting, are so all over the place and convoluted, I feel like there's very little left that I can say about parasites. Serres is an intellectual juggernaut and he wrote 300 pages all about parasites and he covers quite a lot of ground. It's hard for me to feel qualified to enter the discussion. I know that's totally not true and I have a valid opinion yadda yadda yadda, but I'm nevertheless stymied. My hatred and fear of repeating what's already been said reminds me that ignorance is sometimes bliss. So maybe I'm right, and Serres has said quite a lot about parasites and therefore I think I should let that discussion cool on the windowsill. Hmm. Now that I'm thinking of pie, I'm going to run with a pie metaphor.

We just watched Serres create a cherry pie from scratch and then bake it. We've been discussing cherry pie all quarter, and Serres is really good at it. I don't really want to bake another cherry pie right now. What would be the point, anyway? First I need to let Serres' pie cool, and then eat it and critique the taste, method, and ingredients. Or maybe reading the book was eating the pie and now I'm full. I think I've lost the metaphor.

The point is, I'm processing the dense, dense thicket of information in The Parasite the best I can for the time given. I would have loved to have a week to digest every chapter and re-read it and really try to understand what Serres is trying to communicate. Unfortunately I wasn't so good at that. I have absolutely picked up a greater understanding of parasites, the ways in which they operate and where they hang out after school. There's just so much to unpack. Usually a good place to start with literary analysis is with the plot structure and character arcs. With Serres, the lack of a narrative structure is confounding. However, it still has a deliberate linear structure. There has to be a reason why one chapter went before another and why it's broken up into parts. This is still difficult to discuss. It's hard to talk about the text as a whole because there's very little consistency. Only a few things carry over intact from one chapter to the next. It's clear to me that I need a different language or algorithm or something to pick apart an extensive philosophical text. It's not like anything I've read before. We're gonna need a bigger boat.

Cuteness

I spoke to the class last week about cuteness. Attractiveness. The arrangement of features that somehow resonate with a code in our brain that causes us to like something. We want to take it home and let it in. Or, since we're watching vampire movies, "invite it in". A bad parasite appears repulsive therefore creating barriers and mental resistance from the host. This means they have to get messy or sneaky and force their way in. But the body is still opposed to it. Toxoplasma Gondii is not a bad parasite. By the way, I'm talking about 'bad' and 'good' relative to their jobs, not the black and white moral sense of good and bad. I'm not really prepared to discuss that tonight. Anyhow, Toxoplasma Gondii can theoretically make you like cats. This proves to be very successful for them, as it gives Toxo a way in. I like to think that a parasite is not as much "eating beside" but instead "eating inside". Good parasites make us come to them. What's a greater display of power than playing it cool and letting everyone else do your work for you? I don't even need to mention that vampires, attractiveness and parasitism go together quite often. A certain sparkle-eyed Forks resident is only the latest and certainly not the last of attractive parasites. The Femme Fatale, and whatever the male version of that is (ladykiller?) are age old tropes we've had in our culture for years. Homer used it in The Odyssey, seen here updated by the Cohen's 'O Brother, Where Art Thou?'

Why is it so popular to be double-crossed and swindled by some pretty looker? Because it's so effective. We seek it out. We're drawn to it. Blood flukes are about as successful as the XFL compared to the attractive parasite.

I'm wrestling now. There is wrestling being done.

Because I'm in that space again where I don't know if I've sidestepped the concept or not. Is it still a parasite if we let it in? Where is that distinction? Where is the difference between making a choice on our own will and being affected as to invite the vampire in? The sirens lure, but one must still bite the hook. Of course, we don't think there's going to be a hook where we seek out a juicy treat. So yeah, that's still parasitism in my book. I feel like deception is a fundamental element of my parasitism Litmus test. If we knew fully well what we were getting into and still sought it out, then there has to be something we gain from this relationship. Suddenly, the scale tips towards mutualism. Twilight's Bella Swan seems fairly aware of all the quirks of dating Casper the Friendly Vampire, so I'm crossing that off the list. The Horror of Dracula has a lot more unsuspecting victims. Not to mention females who are utterly powerless to do anything whatsoever. It's really refreshing to see something today (or ten years ago, to be more accurate) like Buffy the Vampire Slayer after something like that Dracula film. Ok, I might or might not have the entirety of the Buffy series on DVD. I might or might not be a big fan of that show. Who knows? It's a mystery. I'll never tell. Side note: "I'll Never Tell" is also the name of a song on the Buffy musical episode in season 6. I um, don't know how I got that information.