1. I just stole this outright from my daughter, Sylvia, finding it on her myspace...and I thought it was pretty cute and as I fell down at Back to School night and bustedknee, pride and ankle...I'm too tired to talk about things.


    Myspace existentialism.

    I've been doing lots of philosophizing lately (like other essentially useless activities, this mostly happens in the summer) and in particular I have been agonizing over the following question, phrased Shakespearean-ly for your amusement:

    Myspace: to delete, or not to delete? That is the question.
    Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The pomp and flash of outrageous advertising
    Or to take up arms against a sea of whackos
    And by so opposing end them. To delete my account--
    No more to check my bulletins--and by delete to say we end
    The heartache, and the thousand useless ads
    That Myspace is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wished. To stop, to delete--
    To delete--perchance to write: ay, there's the rub
    For without a Myspace what writing may come
    When we have shuffled off this mortal blog,
    Must give us pause. There's the respect
    That makes calamity of such a blog.
    For who would bear the whips and scorns of chain letters,
    The occasional weird message, the dramatic fits,
    The pangs of teenage love again and again
    The ineffectiveness of moderators, and the spurns
    That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
    When he himself might his quietus make
    With one double-click? Who would spam bear,
    To sigh and delete under a useless account
    But that the dread of lack of Myspace,
    The end of social circles, after which
    No highschooler returns, puzzles the will,
    And makes us rather suffer through those ills we have
    Than change to other social networking sites?
    Thus Myspace does make cowards of us all
    And thus the native hue of disgust
    Is sicklied over with the pale cast of thought,
    And this enterprise of deletion
    With this regard their currents turn awry
    And chicken out of deleting--Soft you now,
    My dearest friends--Top Eight, in the orisons
    Be all my sins remembered.

    * * *
    Hamlet, if I remember right, kills himself following this--or just dies, probably.

    I, however, am a bit more indecisive, and thus shall hold on deleting my myspace for the moment. ;) Although keeping it does seem like something of an exercise in futility.
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I'm a public school elementary teacher from W.V. beginning my career in poverty schools in the 1980's. (I have GIST cancer-small intestinal and syringomyelia which isn't what I want to define me but does help define how I view the meaning of my life.) I am a mom of 3 great children-now grown. I teach 3rd grade in an Underperforming school, teaching mostly immigrant 2nd Lang. children. I majored in art, as well as teaching. Art informs all I do. Teaching is a driving part of my life energy. But I am turning to art soon. I'm married to an artist I coaxed into teaching- now a Superintendent of one of the bigger Districts in the area. Similar population. We both have dedicated inordinate amounts of our life to the field of teaching in areas of poverty hoping to give students opportunities to make better lives. I'm trying to write as I can to the issues of PUBLIC education , trying to gain the sophistication to address the issues in written forms so they can be understood from my teaching contexts.I like to blog from daily experiences. My work is my own, not reflective of any school district.
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