and the boredom sets in

I am proud to say that to date I have applied for nearly 30 jobs. I know, you wouldn't think that was possible and have me sitting here today having had only two interviews and still be unemployed. Either there is seriously something wrong with me or with the places that I am applying. Alas, I don't know where the problem lies and so I will continue on in my quest to find a job.

While at it though, I have become strangely addicted to the show Heroes. If you haven't watched it, don't start because even though the show may not particularly interest you, the story line is so complex that you almost have to keep watching so that you aren't left wondering what happens to the characters. I am embarrassed to say that I am on the third season now having watched the first two seasons in a little over a month. In the first episode of the third season the poem "The Second Coming" by Yeats is read. I have read the poem a couple of times at different points during my college career and I can't help but really really like it! Here is is for those of you who have never read it.


Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

A pretty powerful poem and I don't really know if I am completely able to articulate my thoughts about it at this time. If you want something interesting to read look for "Things Fall Apart" by Chinua Achebe. The title of his book came from this poem, which is when I think I first encountered it. Go ahead, give it a read. What do you think?