justification.

Theory classes in the Humanities are generally presented so as to find justification for why we bother postulating over dead philosophers, and to find justification for why we should receive money for doing such a thing.  It's not always easy to justify, and as much as I love philosophy and the Humanities, I don't always love all of the theory because... ummm.... IT'S HARD.  And not fun to read.  And translations into English strain out the witticisms that might have made it more fun to read.

At the risk of being late to my own party, I'm going to suggest that the sort of writing I love to read and do and be surrounded by and immersed in fills that gap.  Creative [literary] nonfiction seeks to answer the same questions: why am I here, why do we care, why do some mammals mate for life, why don't animals get divorced, why do we love contradictions and paradoxes (paradoxi?), why is Party in the USA so freaking catchy.

All can be explained and viewed and analyzed through the various lenses of Marx, Freud, Levinas, and Foucault.   But the fun of nonfiction done in this way isn't that they're trying to impress you with French terminology and arbitrary arguments for human sexuality.  Essays - the good ones, at least - are unassuming and straight-forward and possess just enough pretense to hook the intellectuals and just enough fluff to entertain the casual reader.  And even the fluff is witty and wonderful, a mark of even greater intellect.

I hope to be at that point someday.  The point where I can talk about something important and make it seem utterly useless, and where I can talk about something utterly useless and make it completely important.