Bella

I must admit, I tried my best to avoid this whole blogging thing when I was younger. Occasionally, I’d secretly study my angsty, pre-teen friends’ blogs, entranced by the sense of ‘real life’ drama. I say ‘real life’ in quotes because to me, it seemed more like reality TV or a bad tabloid magazine than actual emotions my friends could be having. More the often I saw their postings used against them in school–personal feelings or events turned into gossip, Mean Girls style–forever tarnishing their reputations. Needless to say, I wanted nothing to do with it (I like to think of it as self-preservation), yet I was completely fascinated with it at the same time. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to be trying this out after repressing the urge during my teenage years.

So, to get started…what is Postmodernism? I’m in this class learning about this ‘aura’ that we’re living in (or possibly lived through) according to Dr. Rog, and honestly, I’ve never even heard of it before. How sad is that? Ask me when postmodernism ‘began’ before Thursday’s class and I probably wouldn’t have been able to answer. I could have taken a wild guess, but I definitely wouldn’t have said the dropping of the atom bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I guess I just would never have thought that I could be lumped into the same ‘aura’ as my favorite time period, the ‘roaring 50’s’. (I have a slight fascination with the Hollywood, Pleasantville idea of the 1950’s) It blows my mind to think of myself as being part of the same crowd. Me– a fully-grown product of the teased hair, leg warmers, and shoulder pads that haunted the 80’s! I guess we’re not that different after all. I mean, every generation has their ups and downs, every generation has their battles. We are all the same in that way. The 20 year olds in 1945 had to face the reality of nuclear war as adults. They could no longer hide under their desks fearing the “Cheeseburger effect” of wearing ones’ sweatshirt while being struck with an atomic bomb. The 20 year olds in the 1960’s and 70’s were changing the world, revolting, making sure they would be heard. And here I sit today, typing on my computer, wondering if my brother is going to be shipped to Iraq next fall after he enlists in the Marines. That is my battle, our battle. We’ve all had battles. Maybe that’s where the common ground lies? I will be interested to learn more about the causes and effects of PoMo, and where I fit in to all of this…Dr. Rog, I’m guessing that by the end of this semester I will be able to answer that question without a doubt, and I can’t wait.