Rabbles

Forgery is art.

Art is anything created or invented that evokes different interpretations from people. I believe almost everything man-made, even pencil shavings, can be seen as art. For example, person A might view the pencil shavings as a symbol of global warming or deforestation because of the trees that were used to make the pencils and shaved away to be used. On the other hand, person B might view the shavings as a symbol of academic burnout because of the similarities between pencil shavings and a person’s mental & physical deterioration. 

But what if I told you that the creator had no intention of making pencil shavings to symbolize anything? 

Instead, the artist accidentally knocked over pencil shavings into a frame because they were high on crack. In this case, the intention is not what matters—it’s the interpretation of the viewers that makes it art. For this reason, I believe that Wolfgang Beltracchi’s forged artworks can be defined as art because of the interpretations of others that made his art meaningful. 

Works that demonstrate technical mastery without originality are art because authenticity isn’t important in defining art. Personally, I believe that neither the idea, the execution, nor the authenticity matters much in defining art. Instead, if someone can look at a piece and give it meaning, I think that is art. An artist can have both a terrible idea and show awful technical mastery to forge art. Yet, if someone can give that artwork meaning— I think that can be considered art (it could be poorly made art in someone’s eyes, but it is art regardless). 

After Beltracchi’s art was revealed as forgeries, its monetary value dropped significantly. This event shows that in our society, authorship, and provenance of art are valued more than the object itself. In this case, the original artwork is valued more than Beltracchi’s identical duplicate solely because it is the original, and not for the object itself. Even in the video, only one person kept the forged art because they liked the painting, while most of the others didn’t (there’s also the tricky aspect of people not liking deception: in the idea that they didn’t get what they were promised). Either way, artwork created with deceptive intent can still be considered art because interpretation > intention. 

Knowledge, whether that be enlightening or painful, is more valuable than ignorance because ignorance does not change reality or undo past events. In The Epic of Gilgamesh, Genesis, Oedipus Rex, and Lone Star, characters face truths that reshape their identities. By looking through their perspectives, we can understand that while ignorance may offer temporary comfort, the truth provides people with growth and the courage to face the future.

In the Epic of Gilgamesh, Enkidu transitions from ignorance to knowledge, becoming more like a human. In the beginning, Enkidu lives like a wild animal, unaware of civilization and human connections. However, through his interaction with the harlot, he gains knowledge of what it means to be human such as eating bread and drinking wine: “the custom of the land” (67). This newfound knowledge allows him to form emotional connections, particularly with Gilgamesh, whom the people of Uruk describe as having “met his match” (68). Similarly, Gilgamesh’s journey from ignorance to knowledge shapes his role as a leader. After Enkidu’s death, Gilgamesh searches for immortality and lives with the idea that he can escape death. However, his search for immortality ends in the realization that death is inevitable, and this knowledge allows him to find peace. Gilgamesh’s acceptance of mortality helps him leave a meaningful legacy behind, as the people of Uruk lament, “Without him there is no light” at Gilgamesh’s death (118). Both Enkidu and Gilgamesh’s journey from ignorance to knowledge lead to growth. 

In Genesis, Adam and Eve’s pursuit of knowledge leads to their expulsion from the Garden of Eden. However, this loss leads to awareness, choice, and growth. While ignorance allowed them to live in blind obedience, eating from the Tree of Knowledge and Evil allowed them to make their own choices. After their exile, God tells Adam and Eve that he will no longer provide for them. Instead, they must sustain themselves: “Thou shalt eat the herb of the field; In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread” (4). Like the saying “teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime,” although this new reality might be different, it teaches them to be self-sufficient. Their experience shows that while ignorance offers temporary comfort, knowledge allows for autonomy in one’s life.

The entire story of Oedipus Rex is about the fight between knowledge vs. ignorance. Here, ignorance does not change the reality of Oedipus’s fate, reinforcing the idea that truth, no matter how painful, is necessary. First, Oedipus already committed his crimes (la trifecta) and Thebes would have continued to suffer until the killer was punished. So, already on a practical note, knowledge is more valuable than ignorance as knowledge allows justice to be served. It is also important to understand that Oedipus himself does not resist the truth, despite the agony it brings. He insists, “If ‘it’ is bound to come, you are bound to tell me” (18), demonstrating his commitment to uncovering the truth. Even when he finally learns the truth, he does not run away from taking accountability: “Drive me out of this country” (74). In the end, Oedipus’s choice of knowledge restored order to Thebes and reinforced the idea of knowledge > ignorance. 

The Lone Star is an example that even when knowledge is painful, it does not lead to destruction but rather acceptance. Sam and Pilar, for instance, learn they are half-siblings, yet this truth does not undo their love. Their past remains unchanged (incest has already been committed), so they choose to continue their relationship and acknowledge the truth without letting it define their future. This idea is further reinforced through the Pilar saying “Forget the Alamo,” signifying that understanding the past does not mean being bound by it. The film also depicts knowledge as a source of enlightenment. For example, Chet realizes that his father, Colonel Delmore Payne, does not expect him to join the military, allowing Chet to make his own choices regarding his career. Similarly, Colonel Payne discovers newspaper clippings that Otis kept of him, suggesting that despite their past misunderstandings, he was always loved. These moments of revelation illustrate that knowledge brings clarity rather than pain.

“Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people.” – someone.

This phrase/quotation reflects my personal idea of justice. It affirms the lack of a universal system that guarantees +/- outcomes.

To add on, if you are looking for external validation or punishment, I don’t think there is—or should be—a rule (yes, I agree with punishing murderers, but that’s not my point). Except for the law, which mainly accounts for the punishment part, there is no cut-and-dry formula to calculate how to reward and punish actions. And if there was a rule, I think we would just act to satisfy this formulaic reward system to avoid pain and chase pleasure. This lack of a “system/rulebook” for divine justice is further identified in the Book of Job, where God explains that righteousness isn’t directly attributed to rewards. I agree: justice can’t be black and white as it’s subjective and lives in a gray area, which is why good things can happen to good and bad people. 

However, I think there exists self-fulfillment that acts as a reward when you do the right thing and internal guilt that acts as a punishment. Emotions are a part of human nature. And putting aside the people that don’t feel guilt (idk psychopaths), you always feel emotions after committing a conscious action. Whether that be happy or sad emotions, you ought to feel something. For example, when you know you’ve done something good according to your moral compass, you feel fulfilled and content. On the other hand, when you know you’ve acted unjustly, you feel the weight of guilt. So, I don’t think there is an external system to judge our actions, but there exists an internal rulebook (aka. your moral compass) of emotions that holds you accountable. 

I justify my good fortunes by connecting them to luck and being the result of mine & other people’s actions. For instance, being privileged to have a loving family, a roof over my head, and good opportunities—are all examples of having good fortune. These good fortunes are the result of choices like my parents sacrificing themselves for my education in America, the choice of me studying to get my goal grade on a certain test, and the choice of reconciling with my family members to maintain a good relationship. However, it is important to understand that a baseline of luck exists. Maybe I’m genetically predisposed to do well in certain subjects, or maybe the stars aligned to give my parents the means to support me.

Again, as I said before, I think that there does exist an internal justice system where you get rewards (self-fulfillment) and punishments (guilt). Externally, humans should have integrity without waiting for or being promised rewards because the people that we surround ourselves with have an effect on who we are as a person. Surrounding yourself with ethical people would influence a positive growth mindset, whereas, associating yourself with unethical people, can pull you into a similar unethical life. I am not saying that peers are the only factor shaping our ethics, but they play a crucial role in our development and actions. As a result, ethical behavior isn’t just about our internal fulfillment, but it’s also about maintaining good social standards that better our lives. 

Finally, God punishes a good man (Job) simply because he can and not because he has an elaborate “plan” for the good man. Job’s suffering serves as an example to show that God’s ways are beyond human comprehension and that the world does not operate on a strict reward system or divine justice. Initially, Job makes an assumption that 1) God is indifferent to moral justice, and 2) God is responsible for the evil in the world. However, both of these assumptions are refuted. Although God doesn’t justify the suffering that Job went through, the main idea is clear: righteousness doesn’t depend on the promise of rewards. Instead, ethical behaviors should stem from the inner commitment to what is right, independent of external outcomes. 

Adam and Eve’s story is similar to Emily Dickinson’s poem, “Eden is that old-fashioned House” because of their clear parallels. The most obvious evidence is when Dickinson flat out mentions “Eden” to highlight the Garden of Eden and characterizes it as an “old-fashioned House” (1). Here, readers not only understand that Eden = House (hence why both are capitalized), but also the idea that it is a place reminiscent of the old days, childhood, and innocence—qualities similar to that of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Like the poem’s idea that no one suspected their “abode,” Adam and Eve also did not question their existence/purpose in the Garden. They simply existed as “They were both naked…and were not ashamed” (3). Their lack of self-awareness illustrates their childlike innocence and oblivion. However, Adam and Eve only recognized their existence inside the Garden of Eden until they left, or “until we[they] drive[drove] away” (4). Only after leaving do they look back on “the Day” (the departure) and think about “the Door” (the choice/free will) where they ultimately chose knowledge. Now, Adam and Eve understand that their time in the Garden of Eden has ended as they “discover it no more” (8). Overall, Dickinson’s poem shows this loss of innocence and the irreversible change of stepping into a new phase in life.

My situation of leaving home is parallel to that of Adam and Eve’s departure from the Garden as significant changes will occur in college. In terms of the setting, I will be away from Woodbridge (hoodbridge..) and live in different weather conditions, classrooms, and living space. Similar to how Adam and Eve didn’t question their place in Eden, I won’t understand the things I take for granted until I leave. For example, I’ve always lived in Connecticut, gone to school, come back to my room, and slept in the same bed without much thought. 

Leaving home also signifies new beginnings and newfound freedom, just as Adam and Eve gained freedom from leaving their sanctuary. Moreover, leaving my home symbolizes leaving behind my childhood. My “old-fashioned House” will never be the same, and my childhood will become a memory that I “discover … no more.” Like Adam and Eve, I will realize that we often don’t fully appreciate what we have until we leave, and once we do, we can never return to the same version of it.

To be honest, I’m not sure if I’m afraid of much change because I don’t think there will be significant differences.

Regarding friendships, I don’t usually hang out with my friends regularly. Instead, I check in with them occasionally to make sure they are alive maybe once a month via text. As someone who hangs out with people only a couple of times a year, I doubt much will change after college. That said, I do think our conversations might become more vague, as we’ll have fewer shared experiences to talk about.

In terms of family, I don’t expect major changes either. I will probably stay within a 3 hour drive (at most) from home, so visiting won’t be a big deal. My family is also pretty introverted, and we don’t often spend time together as a group. For example, my brother is already in college, and it didn’t feel like a dramatic change for us. Overall, my family doesn’t make a big deal out of leaving.

But, if I had to pick something I am afraid of, it would be leaving my cat alone. That’s the one change I am worried about—making sure he’s okay while I’m away.

Two of my favorite social media sites are Reddit and Pinterest. I routinely scroll through one or the other before bed, hoping to find unhinged stories or words of wisdom to cheer me up.

Last fall, during my usual scrolling, I came across a video clip of an older Korean celebrity sharing a unique piece of advice. “Think of every new person you meet as weird,” she said, “so that when they inevitably annoy you or do something bizarre, you can just say, “Oh well, they were weird anyway,” and walk away without much thought.”

It was simple, almost too blunt, but something about it stuck with me.

This spring, I was able to put this advice into practice. I attended a science festival with student presenters from around the country to share our projects. Here, I was excited to meet these so-called “bright young minds.”

However, that excitement shattered almost instantly. Most people I met had a sort of unspoken mission to outdo everyone else, like a weird contest to flex their achievements. During a group dinner the first night, the conversations around me turned into a bragging game. Every small talk somehow morphed into a subtle brag about their projects, awards, and internships. It felt like no one had basic social cues, and I realized I hyped up my expectations way too high.

By the second day, I had enough. I decided to approach the day with zero expectations, mentally labeling everyone as “weird” right from the start. 

And, it worked. Each time I walked away from an awkward conversation, I felt none of my usual frustration. If someone started flexing out of nowhere, I just thought, “They’re weird anyway,” and moved on, completely stress free.

While I won’t be this blunt in everyday life, I will keep this advice in the back of my mind as I’m sure it will come in handy one day. This is my little trick to remember that not everyone will be my cup of tea—and that’s perfectly fine.

How do we figure out whether or not a life has value? Honestly, we don’t. The question is so subjective and depends entirely on perspective. There isn’t a universal formula for determining a life’s value because it varies so differently from person to person, shaped by individual experiences, beliefs, and what they hold important. Some might define value through accomplishments, while others may see it in simply existing. Life’s meaning and purpose are flexible, changing with personal stories, goals, and relationships. Ultimately, “value” is something we each define for ourselves. Additionally, there isn’t a specific time when we decide whether a life has value. It varies based on individual reflection. Personally, I believe the meaning and purpose of life is simply to be. A person’s existence should bring joy, as we naturally form connections, whether it’s a brief encounter or long-term relationships with loved ones. These moments of connection are what make life meaningful.

1. Lifelong/long-term friendship

The idea of experiencing long-term friendships is important to me because friends are people who stick with you throughout life. Although specific friendships may end, you form new ones at different stages—whether in elementary school, college, or even later in life. Unlike other relationships, like those with significant others or parents, which can start later or end due to circumstances, friendships can span various phases of life. I value friendships because they are extensions of your own persona; the friends you choose often reflect who you are. They influence your actions and help shape your identity. You learn from them, take advice, and through those interactions, you become a better version of yourself. Friendships are essential in helping us grow and understand ourselves.

2. Marriage 

For me, I want to experience love and invest in marriage because I’ve seen how meaningful and fulfilling it can be for others, like my parents. They always seem to have each other’s backs and never grow tired of one another. Marriage provides companionship and a deep emotional connection that can make life’s ups and downs easier to navigate. Beyond personal reasons, marriage is valuable to humanity because it demonstrates love, trust, and stability, contributing to the formation of strong families and communities. It symbolizes the idea of a partnership and love that transcends time, giving people a support system in everyday life. 

3. Academia 

As we talked about in class, humanity values the pursuit of knowledge, which can be traced back to literature like The Epic of Gilgamesh. In the epic, Gilgamesh’s quest for knowledge and immortality mirrors humanity’s ongoing desire to understand the world and themselves. Similarly, I value knowledge and hope to experience all levels of education: from college to graduate school and more. I am excited to explore topics that interest me, even if I’m not certain what those are yet. Learning and pursuing knowledge are top priorities for me because they help shape our understanding of the world, both personally and collectively.

4. Collection of objects 

It seems kind of superficial to have “objects” ranked #4 most important things I value, but I think the things that you possess carry a lot of power in telling who you are as a person. For example, someone who collects magnets from different countries likely enjoys traveling, while someone who collects spices may love cooking. Hence, collections of objects are valuable to humanity because they indirectly tell others the things that a person values, or who they are as a person. For me, I am a person that values consistency in life: a firm hater in unexpected events, unorganized plans, and new things. Hence, in a world full of unpredictability, I take comfort in my collection of clothing, specifically my 11 different-colored Columbia fleece jackets and 6 vests. These collections bring a sense of stability and reduce daily stress. By the end of my life, I hope to have built some collection of items that bring me comfort and consistency.

5. Collection of memories/stories 

This idea of “collections” also extends to memories, but I consider them separate because memories are more about experiences. Whether someone keeps a camera roll filled with pictures, an instagram page documenting fun events, or a journal keeping track of small interactions, we gravitate towards leaving memories behind, or documenting our life events.  Hence, keeping track of memories is valuable to humanity because they act as small fragments of our own life and legacies that we can leave behind after our death. I keep track of my memories through perfumes, believing that fragrances are the most powerful way to bring back moments. Each of the 13 scents in my collection has an anecdote attached—a scent that reminds me of COVID isolation, my grandmother’s house, or my hometown. By the end of my life, I hope to have a vast collection of perfumes that can capture the essence of my life, including my college experience, my first job, and even my wedding day.

6. Small & meaningful interactions

I want to be remembered for the small yet meaningful interactions I have with people. I don’t think any single word can fully describe anyone because people are too complex for simple labels. Instead, I value the everyday moments, like saying “thank you, have a nice day” or cheering a friend on at their sports game. These small gestures are significant to me because they reflect how I want to interact with the world. For humanity, small acts of kindness or attention often mean more than big gestures. Whether it’s a pet’s comforting presence or holding the door for someone, these little interactions make life brighter and bring people together in simple yet powerful ways.

Utnapishtim’s response shows that everything in life is temporary, including life itself. This concept of impermanence suggests that nothing, no matter how powerful, can escape the passage of time. Just like Enkidu in The Epic of Gilgamesh, he was unable to run away from death even though he achieved “great” things in life: “cut down the cedar … leveled the forest … [and] slew Humbaba” (90-91). His story reminds us that all accomplishments, no matter how great, are bound to the same inevitable end. The world illustrates this notion of impermanence through the cycle of life and death, which is essential for balance. From the death of humans, plants, and animals to the rise/fall of civilizations, these constant cycles sustain the world. Life needs death to persist; seasons change as plants die, animals survive by consuming other creatures, and societies fall as people pass away.

We live in a world that is fleeting and ephemeral. However, death acts kind of like a deadline, and that deadline gives life a meaning. For example, if an essay in Humanities was never due, no one would complete it (I wouldn’t). However, if Ms. Kimball gives her students a deadline to complete the essay by Friday at 11:59PM, students are more motivated to complete the assignment (one would hope). In this situation, the deadline (death) gives the assignment (life) purpose. Similarly, our awareness of the impermanence of life motivates us to find meaning in our daily actions. Siduri, the maker of wine, advises Gilgamesh to embrace life’s fleeting joys—fresh clothes, dancing, and feasts—because these simple pleasures are “… the lot of man” (102). Unlike Siduri, Gilgamesh aims to deny the human condition by pursuing immortality, and by doing so, he struggles to understand life’s true meaning. Therefore, Siduri’s wisdom teaches us that by appreciating everyday experiences, forming connections, and telling our stories, we can find purpose even within our mortality.

Human interactions, whether positive or negative, contribute to our sense of purpose and add depth to our personal stories. These relationships and experiences weave together to create a meaningful life, reminding us that even in a world of impermanence, the moments we share and the stories we tell last beyond our individual lives. This idea is specifically evident when Shamash stops Enkidu’s cursing rampage by reminding Enkidu of his legacy that he will leave behind. Shamash highlights the meaningful connections Enkidu has made: the woman who taught him to “eat bread fit for gods and drink wine of kings,” his friendship with Gilgamesh, who made him “rest on a royal bed … made the princes of the earth kiss [his] feet,” and the people of Uruk who will “lament and wail” over his death (91). These memories illustrate that the value of life lies in our relationships and the impact we have on others.

These small connections are the common “lot of man,” a truth that both Enkidu and Gilgamesh initially refuse to accept. However, Shamash’s reminder shows that their stories and legacies will persist beyond their physical lives, making them immortal in history/story. In conclusion, the lesson readers learn is that everyone’s unique experiences and connections contribute to a lasting legacy that offers a form of “eternal life.” By embracing the natural flow of life and finding meaning in our connections, we, too, can achieve a sense of immortality through our stories we leave behind.

The classic works of literature and their main characters all have a common trait of being selfless, determined, and a tendency to work towards the greater good. For example, Luke Skywalker is motivated by his goal to restore the Force, despite facing dangers from Darth Vadar and the Emperor. Similarly, Frodo, from the Lord of the Rings, resists his selfish urge to take the ring for himself, and decides to destroy it for the benefit of the greater community. In both cases, these characters follow the classic hero’s journey as they show growth from their previous self and persevere to save their world by destroying the “evil.” 

However, although fantasy heroes do fit the general archetype of a hero, literature tends to overextend the definition of a hero, and introduces nuances that some may argue is not a heroic act. With Luke, it might be arguable to say that he is not heroic because he caused the deaths of Stormtroopers who were genetically modified to obey the Empire. For this, isn’t it arguable to say that Luke murdered innocent people who were forced into evil? How about the orcs from the Lord of the Rings? Weren’t they forcibly bred from elves to become soldiers?

Thus, in modern days, and specifically in real life, we define heroic actions or behavior as being much more simple (of course, it’s not like we see Voldemort hitting up the streets and buying coffee from Starbucks everyday but you get my point). These heroic acts can be anything as simple as picking up trash from the beach, rescuing stray cats from the streets, or planting trees to reduce CO2 emissions. These everyday acts may seem less exciting than the journeys of literary heroes, but they still embody the principle of leaving the community better than it was before. Heroism today is often about improving the world in small, positive ways, without the large consequences or moral ambiguity found in the fantasy world.

Women can be heroes, yet they are often written as the side characters rather than being the main characters in literature. Hermione in Harry Potter, Leia in Star Wars, and Scarlet Witch in The Avengers all fit the hero archetype by being selfless and working to restore peace, but they are still secondary to their male lead. This is mainly due to historical gender roles, where women were traditionally portrayed with traits that do not align with the heroic archetypes: traits like being emotional, delicate, and vulnerable. Heroes are often expected to be strong, determined, and stoic, traits traditionally associated with masculinity. As a result, female heroes are often shown as being “not like the other girls,” rejecting feminine traits and embracing masculinity, such as physical strength. Katniss from The Hunger Games is one such example as she is portrayed as being tough, uninterested in love, and again, “not like the other girls.”

Heroes serve as a guide for us humans. They are models of courage, selflessness, and resilience, inspiring us to overcome challenges and persevere through them. Heroes help us understand how we can better our communities. However, Bertolt Brecht’s quote, “Unhappy the land that needs heroes,” suggests that a society needing heroes is flawed. For example, needing a hero may signify faults in the governmental system, or deep-rooted societal problems. Brecht is trying to say that in an “ideal society,” we wouldn’t even need a hero to save us. As a result, while heroes can serve as symbols of justice, it is important to take Brecht’s warning that we shouldn’t rely on heroes. Instead, we, as members of society, need to step up and become the heroes that are portrayed as classic heroic archetypes.