Examining the end, only to realize it's a beginning

By my count, I’ve written anywhere from 60 to 63 columns
for the Daily Bruin in the last four years. In every one of those,
I’ve known the ending before writing the first word. That
isn’t to suggest that I’m a master of column plotting,
playing out every possible move in my head before committing to one
like a chess player.

Rather, I chose column topics that had ends in sight. It’s
the same decision that brings people to drive to San Francisco via
I-5, a straight highway with exits marked along the way, instead of
the coastal route, which gets somewhere only after a lot of
meandering.

The problem with this column is that I’m already lost.
There’s no straight path to an end when the point of the
column is The End, concluding my work at The Bruin and explaining
what it means to me. In other words, I can’t visualize an end
to a column that exists solely to symbolize an end; I’ll only
have gone in a circle.

Naturally, there are plenty of ways to structure an ending. A
lot of endings refer back to beginnings. Unfortunately, my first
assignment for the Bruin was to review “The Santa Clause
2,” and earnestly invoking a Tim Allen sequel because
it’s easy seems the aesthetic equivalent of eating a cheese
steak when you have the tenderloin to make steak au poivre.

Other endings wrap everything up into one simple idea after
recapitulating all the major points. Unfortunately, I’m not
clever enough to mix together Tim Robbins, Alexander Payne and
Barry Bonds, except in a rudimentary
which-one-of-these-things-is-not-like-the-other comparison
rightfully delegated to “Sesame Street.” That would
really bring everything back to the beginning.

Most endings, however, simply tie up any obvious loose ends and
offer thematic resolutions. That won’t work here, either,
since this isn’t really a narrative.

Ultimately, my problem with ending a column about The End is the
idea of conclusion itself. If my experience at The Bruin has taught
me anything, it’s that I want to keep writing indefinitely,
and while these may be my final words in this publication, my
writing style isn’t about to start all over again. A major
breakthrough in the evolution of knowledge came when animals began
to inherit knowledge from generation to generation instead of
having to relearn it each time, and the work that anyone does at
the Bruin isn’t likely to disappear upon graduation.

The end isn’t really an end at all. It’s really more
of a beginning, offering the chance to use knowledge in new ways
and use writing in new forums. This column shouldn’t embody
The End, but rather a beginning, but not the same beginning that
brings me back to a bad holiday sequel. The beginning of The End is
the end, so the end of The End must be some sort of beginning.

You can no longer e-mail Tracer at
[email protected].