The Eagles Blog and Journals

Normally I hate Criticism and Analysis.  Normally I'm not the only one that feels this way. Which is conformting.  But then I go to Starbucks with the theory of reading page after page of something that no one cares about anymore because no one's read it in years.  Or at least this is my currently jadded opinion since entering this class which has slowly but surely sucked the joy out of reading and the English language.  And then I hear it, as I'm staring at Starbucks Hot Boy #3 who is walking into work and I can see the beautiful back drop of cabs almost hitting people as they cross the street (the yellow one's DON'T stop) and thinking that it might be fun to go to the pub (because even Chicago has pubs) after watching 24, and Hotel California comes on and I lose my long-winded, completely mindless thoughts.  It's Emily Dickinson, it's Longinus, it's my answer.  I am in love with Criticism and Analysis.  I'm in love with it because even though I'm fighting through the idea of parataxis and democracy, I'm using The Eagles, Fall Out Boy, and the evolution of Justin Timberlake from 'N Sync to JT to explain Longinus, Dickinson, and Yeats.  It's that feeling of the light going off and the ever amazing idea of "I get it" and maybe "The History of Sexuality" isn't the worst thing I've ever read.  I mean, it's no "How to Make Love Like a Porn Star" but it was written over 300 years ago so I get the difference. And as I sit here, smiling at my new found understanding, Starbucks Hot Boy #2 hands me my re-fill and I thank the media gods for music.