Things I Wrote Instead of My Lincoln Paper – Part 2

Why was it not necessary for me to "struggle with" or to "find" my identity as a young white man in America? Why was I never compelled to "discover what it meant to be" the son of married, white, middle-class, suburbanite parents?
Is this role, by virtue of its ubiquity or (real or artificial) 'normalcy,' already defined for me by society?
Or did I, in fact, find or develop an identity (or was I born with one?), but so organically that I failed to take note of the occurrence?
If that be the case, why should (for example) a black man of separated, mixed-race parentage have so much harder a time of it? Is, perhaps, the finding of an identity — or the curiosity about it — the real artifice, expected of non-'normal' youth by that great force of "society?"

Things I Wrote Instead of My Lincoln Paper - Part 1

Lincoln explains himself all too well.  How is one supposed to write a paper arguing that he was anti-savery, when he says things like "I have always hated slavery" and "I am ... anti-slavery?"  There is no argument!  Everything he says, he explains somewhere when he thought so, how and why he thought so, with and to whom he thought or said so, whether he has ever changed his mind, and everything else that one might normally expect to extract by analysis.

President Obama

Yes!! I just had to say it!

Well Put, Sir!

The Electoral College Sucks!

Or does it?

This just occured to me:

In a country founded (supposedly) on religious freedom but with no notion of racial equality, a black man is going to be president a long time before a non-Christian.

That's kind of funny.

Of course, it wasn't founded with gender equality in mind, either, and a woman almost made it.

This is eye-opening.

Faith in Humanity ++

So I managed to leave my phone behind today; it must have fallen out of my pocket. I realized it about 45 minutes later when I went check it to see where my midterm was. I retraced my steps to where I remembered getting a text (45 minutes before) and it was nowhere to be seen. I cursed my luck and went to my midterm, correctly guessing the room.

I managed to put the phone out of my mind long enough to do pretty well on the midterm (I think), then went to work (an hour early) to borrow friend(and coworker)'s phone. Lo and behold, there was mine!

Turns out someone picked it up and sent a text (at almost exactly the time I realized it was missing) to my last called number, which happened to be a friend who was on campus then. Apparently they met and my friend dropped off the phone at work.

And here I thought it was stolen.