Yes. I called it.
Once upon a time, like back in the 50s or so, it was just impossible to live your life being gay. You couldn't tell your parents (or friends) about your same-sex partner, you couldn't live your life with them, kiss them in public or whatnot, and most of all you were constantly in danger of 'racist reactions' (read: being beaten up or even killed because of your choice in life).
Now things have moved on in that respect - yes, there is still some prejudice going around, you can't really deny that, even in countries where same-sex marriage is allowed or at least considered. But you're automatically 'taught' to accept it, you're a close-minded sob if you don't. Literature, support lines, parades... So many things are on your side, and chances are that your friends and family will 'understand' if you come out to them.
So, now, the new sexual choice that would mean you're too embarrassed to share it with your own, even if you personally know there are higher emotions aplenty involved, even if you go to all the trouble a member of a 'regular' relationship would be supposed to go to, even if you face matters with admirable maturity, is having more than one partner. Whether or not a 'gay relationship' is part of this and whether you have a single, 'important' 'main relationship' and other minor ones around it or you simply have more than one 'serious partners', you're most probably the only one in your social group who's 'into that kind of thing'.
Arguably, monogamy is not the 'natural way to go' for human beings. And, arguably, human beings are supposed to be able to control or even overcome their raw instincts, drives and urges. But how is this supposed to work in this case? There are people out there able to live happy lives with, and respect and love, more than one people. But in all probability, they won't go out to a work party and go 'these are my two girlfriends'. Not unless they're going out to impress their pals, or they're prepared to accept weird looks for the rest of the night.
There's a long road ahead of anyone who's pledged their heart to more than one person, or anyone who sees love and sex as two different, unrelated things. I just believe, and hope, that in a few decades there'll be polygamy pride parades marching outside our window - hopefully with something less tacky than a rainbow as their sign.
Showing posts with label Amateur Sociology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amateur Sociology. Show all posts
Monday, February 26, 2007
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Science, you ninny!
I'm mad at science today. Neuroscience specifically, 'cause, like, normally it's my friend and I respect it and all, but I realised something and now I'm mad at it and I won't speak to it for today. Or at least I'll try, 'cause I usually enjoy our conversations, and I still have an issue of New Scientist to read and the RSS feed of SciAm on my googlepage. Hmm. Pffft.
I was actually thinking about diseases such as MS and Alzheimer's, that apparently rely somewhat on thought processes and feelings to occur. And they're quite trendy these days, more people seem to have them than in the past. And so do other diseases and conditions, that may not directly rely on stress and such, but things like that are officially risk factors for them.
And there's a lot of upheaval against more tangible things like smoking or food cholesterol and vitamin deficiency, since there we can "see" the enemy and punch it harder, but thoughts and feelings we can't put a face to, at least not yet. People like Kevin Warwick who managed to encode and transfer feelings over the internet may actually help in this field, and so can various cognitive scientists at some point, who try to map thoughts and feelings and find where they can be pinpointed in the obscure island that we call the brain... but that's kind of the problem, I find.
There don't seem to be that many people, to my knowledge, that examine the "how" of the thing. How thoughts and feelings actually "happen", how they electrically/biochemically occur and are transferred and transcribed in there. Now that's something we could affect if we could pinpoint it. If we knew how our neurons go about making us feel this way or that, if, for example, their physical structure being a certain way and changing to that, or certain biochemical substances' presence, are involved in me worrying too much about having to wash the dishes before I go to class tomorrow morning, now that would help.
And the thing is that there are steps being made, as I said, in the right direction, but it feels like noone has really taken the time to connect the dots, interdiciplinarily. It would take someone who would be equivalently familiar with the relevant neurophysiology fields and psychology, at least, but I do believe that it would make sense that two disciplines that have so much in common would work together more closely and intensively. Or they may have done so, but I don't really know of that many examples of cases that have produced interesting results, where I would imagine that they would.
I'm waiting, people! And so is humanity, in essence. We truly need to find how to look at the ways we think and feel, in ways through which we can tangibly affect them. I think and feel we have many reasons to do so.
I was actually thinking about diseases such as MS and Alzheimer's, that apparently rely somewhat on thought processes and feelings to occur. And they're quite trendy these days, more people seem to have them than in the past. And so do other diseases and conditions, that may not directly rely on stress and such, but things like that are officially risk factors for them.
And there's a lot of upheaval against more tangible things like smoking or food cholesterol and vitamin deficiency, since there we can "see" the enemy and punch it harder, but thoughts and feelings we can't put a face to, at least not yet. People like Kevin Warwick who managed to encode and transfer feelings over the internet may actually help in this field, and so can various cognitive scientists at some point, who try to map thoughts and feelings and find where they can be pinpointed in the obscure island that we call the brain... but that's kind of the problem, I find.
There don't seem to be that many people, to my knowledge, that examine the "how" of the thing. How thoughts and feelings actually "happen", how they electrically/biochemically occur and are transferred and transcribed in there. Now that's something we could affect if we could pinpoint it. If we knew how our neurons go about making us feel this way or that, if, for example, their physical structure being a certain way and changing to that, or certain biochemical substances' presence, are involved in me worrying too much about having to wash the dishes before I go to class tomorrow morning, now that would help.
And the thing is that there are steps being made, as I said, in the right direction, but it feels like noone has really taken the time to connect the dots, interdiciplinarily. It would take someone who would be equivalently familiar with the relevant neurophysiology fields and psychology, at least, but I do believe that it would make sense that two disciplines that have so much in common would work together more closely and intensively. Or they may have done so, but I don't really know of that many examples of cases that have produced interesting results, where I would imagine that they would.
I'm waiting, people! And so is humanity, in essence. We truly need to find how to look at the ways we think and feel, in ways through which we can tangibly affect them. I think and feel we have many reasons to do so.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Is Ignorance Indeed Bliss?
I was thinking the other day, about how the idea that the earth was round had been proposed so many centuries ago, yet humanity still chose to socially ignore it and believed that it was in fact flat, with no scientific evidence to reject the claim, just an instinctive feeling that "well, it must be flat, how wouldn't it be?". And this is just an example, one of many popular misconceptions that were challenged, successfully, with the establishment of scientific thought.
It could actually be argued that people back then were much more content believing that there was nothing but the end of the earth beyond those vast oceans, for which they had neither the technology nor the need to examine any further. So, it could be said that, sociologically, it was safer for them to be free of such worries and questions, until they actually had a need for what such research struggles would offer - namely, there were at some point too many people and not enough resources for them, so new land needed to be found. And only then was the truth faced and acknowledged at last.
'Cause up to then, there were already people who were familiar with, say, Pythagoras' theories and calculations, but whole systems were in place to make sure that, socially, nothing like that would be taken seriously by anyone who could research it further or do something about it and still let others know.
So, this makes me wonder: Is there some type of social mechanism that urges humanity to deny certain types of knowlege for which there is no direct need yet? Do people as a whole actually deny certain truths just because they can't be bothered with them right now? Is there a whole set of common dreams and experiences that we could all strive for but don't really need the hassle?
It would make sense that humanity would deny a whole set of areas of research... And what good would it do, for example, to physically locate or scientifically examine the human soul, should it be in any way tangible? Would it cause anything but fears and worries right now? Aren't we better off if we don't ask, until or unless we ever have a reason to?
We still have so many things to worry about, hope and strive for, scientifically. Space travel and colonisation, for example, is a hard enough goal already. It's just that I'm curious to find out what we don't want to find out. Oh well...
It could actually be argued that people back then were much more content believing that there was nothing but the end of the earth beyond those vast oceans, for which they had neither the technology nor the need to examine any further. So, it could be said that, sociologically, it was safer for them to be free of such worries and questions, until they actually had a need for what such research struggles would offer - namely, there were at some point too many people and not enough resources for them, so new land needed to be found. And only then was the truth faced and acknowledged at last.
'Cause up to then, there were already people who were familiar with, say, Pythagoras' theories and calculations, but whole systems were in place to make sure that, socially, nothing like that would be taken seriously by anyone who could research it further or do something about it and still let others know.
So, this makes me wonder: Is there some type of social mechanism that urges humanity to deny certain types of knowlege for which there is no direct need yet? Do people as a whole actually deny certain truths just because they can't be bothered with them right now? Is there a whole set of common dreams and experiences that we could all strive for but don't really need the hassle?
It would make sense that humanity would deny a whole set of areas of research... And what good would it do, for example, to physically locate or scientifically examine the human soul, should it be in any way tangible? Would it cause anything but fears and worries right now? Aren't we better off if we don't ask, until or unless we ever have a reason to?
We still have so many things to worry about, hope and strive for, scientifically. Space travel and colonisation, for example, is a hard enough goal already. It's just that I'm curious to find out what we don't want to find out. Oh well...
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Oscar Wise and the unbearable subjectivity of reasoning
So, I was out the other day, with Than and a few friends of ours, and Than and our friend Ted sat there arguing about something they both agreed upon, as per usual. It took them a bit more than it usually does to realise that they were just saying the same thing in different words and were basically arguing semantics.
The whole debate regarded the way years are measured when we're talking about age and when we're talking about calendar years, with the only difference being when we celebrate what year. Ted was insisting that they're measured exactly the same way, since the same arithmetic principles are used in both cases, while Than said it's the other way around, since we celebrate the beginning of a calendar year on New Year's Day, but the passage of a year on our birthday. And the simple fact that the one said "it's the same" while the other said "it's different" was the point of a 20-minute-or-so disagreement.
So, ok, if we assume that point zero was when Jesus was born (which another friend of ours in the group desperately tried to point out that it was not, in fact, when Jesus was actually born, since it has been determined arbitrarily a few centuries later, which we all were obviously aware of, but it was not our point at the time), then by the time baby Jesus celebrated his first birthday, it would start counting as year 2 on the calendar. And if there were calendars on the wall back then, when Mary was out with her baby carriage (again, if there were baby carriages back then) and an old lady saw the baby, the following dialogue would ensue:
The old lady would go "oooh, what a sweet baby, and what a cute little beard it has... is it a boy or a girl?," Mary would reply "a boy," and then the old lady would say "how nice... and how old is he?." Mary would answer "well, he's one year old since last week," so the fact would then be that if anyone looked at their calendar on the wall, the year shown would be year 2, and not year 1 as we may have expected. The reason for this being that we start counting a calendar year from its first day, but a year of age when the year has passed. Strange for some, natural according to counting and celebration conventions to people like Ted, Mathematician and USTV guru.
But the wonderful thing here is how long they disagreed before realising that they didn't really disagree in the first place. And the even more amazing thing is how often it happens with the two of them, usually lasting for no more than a couple of minutes with a drumroll backing. So, the moral of our story really is that the pure and simple truth, as another friend of mine, Oscar Wilde, once said, is rarely pure and never simple.
Which brings me to the reason why I am such a fan of the scientific method and of logical reasoning according to convention. People think and talk in so many different ways, that if two people, both of which I consider amazingly smart in stupendously different ways, disagree or think that they disagree so often, it cannot be assumed that we all speak the same language, even if we use the same pool of words. There must be some set of rules as to what counts as true and how, in order for humanity to be able to talk about things, since we're all basically cursed to have to communicate things other than "I'm hungry" or "I love you" like quasi-normal animals need to. And even then, whatever we learn, there must be some way to record it and pass it on, so as to be able to say that we know more today than our forefathers knew a few years ago, some set of rules to test its truth and to realise how we got there, in order to map out the theoretical territories we all waddle across, so as to avoid traps, pitfalls and going round in circles if other people before us have pointed them out somehow.
So, in the sea of abstract thinking, sailing in a boat of my own subjectivity, science and logic are my only oars.
The whole debate regarded the way years are measured when we're talking about age and when we're talking about calendar years, with the only difference being when we celebrate what year. Ted was insisting that they're measured exactly the same way, since the same arithmetic principles are used in both cases, while Than said it's the other way around, since we celebrate the beginning of a calendar year on New Year's Day, but the passage of a year on our birthday. And the simple fact that the one said "it's the same" while the other said "it's different" was the point of a 20-minute-or-so disagreement.
So, ok, if we assume that point zero was when Jesus was born (which another friend of ours in the group desperately tried to point out that it was not, in fact, when Jesus was actually born, since it has been determined arbitrarily a few centuries later, which we all were obviously aware of, but it was not our point at the time), then by the time baby Jesus celebrated his first birthday, it would start counting as year 2 on the calendar. And if there were calendars on the wall back then, when Mary was out with her baby carriage (again, if there were baby carriages back then) and an old lady saw the baby, the following dialogue would ensue:
The old lady would go "oooh, what a sweet baby, and what a cute little beard it has... is it a boy or a girl?," Mary would reply "a boy," and then the old lady would say "how nice... and how old is he?." Mary would answer "well, he's one year old since last week," so the fact would then be that if anyone looked at their calendar on the wall, the year shown would be year 2, and not year 1 as we may have expected. The reason for this being that we start counting a calendar year from its first day, but a year of age when the year has passed. Strange for some, natural according to counting and celebration conventions to people like Ted, Mathematician and USTV guru.
But the wonderful thing here is how long they disagreed before realising that they didn't really disagree in the first place. And the even more amazing thing is how often it happens with the two of them, usually lasting for no more than a couple of minutes with a drumroll backing. So, the moral of our story really is that the pure and simple truth, as another friend of mine, Oscar Wilde, once said, is rarely pure and never simple.
Which brings me to the reason why I am such a fan of the scientific method and of logical reasoning according to convention. People think and talk in so many different ways, that if two people, both of which I consider amazingly smart in stupendously different ways, disagree or think that they disagree so often, it cannot be assumed that we all speak the same language, even if we use the same pool of words. There must be some set of rules as to what counts as true and how, in order for humanity to be able to talk about things, since we're all basically cursed to have to communicate things other than "I'm hungry" or "I love you" like quasi-normal animals need to. And even then, whatever we learn, there must be some way to record it and pass it on, so as to be able to say that we know more today than our forefathers knew a few years ago, some set of rules to test its truth and to realise how we got there, in order to map out the theoretical territories we all waddle across, so as to avoid traps, pitfalls and going round in circles if other people before us have pointed them out somehow.
So, in the sea of abstract thinking, sailing in a boat of my own subjectivity, science and logic are my only oars.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Striving for excellence
I live my life investing myself in everything I choose to do, passionately. Yes, I've done things in the past "just because I had to" and barely scraped enough effort to remain "above average", but those aren't the things I chose to do, they were merely things I had to do. When I decide, through my own free will, to explore an area, I simply must do my best - and, since I've never really had to "support myself financially" in any of these areas yet, I mostly invest tons of effort into fields that won't really give me the same in return - unless you count the appreciation of friends and family as a profit.
But then I look around me, and I see tons of people making a living in areas where, the way I see it, they shouldn't. From a tragically mediocre television writer, to a graphic designer who "complains about her not being able to find a job, although she has a degree" - although I can produce more visually pleasing and objectively functional things than she can, and it's not even my field - to sad excuses for creators of any kind or NHS doctors who are obliged to give you 10 minutes of their time but don't invest a second of their thoughts to actually try and figure out what's wrong with you, but instead they remind you before you're able to say anything that the appointments are for no more than 10 minutes and if you need more time you'll have to book another one.
And yes, it's fair enough that these people aren't going to offer you their souls in return for your trust, but I just wonder how they can live with themselves... They are definitely within their rights to do no more than they're obliged to and hope for the best in return, but how can they dedicate their lives, that's the rest of the time they have here on earth to actually do something and be the best they can be, to some field or cause and not need to excel in it? How can they be so oblivious to anything that could be seen as constructive criticism and instead take it as an offense because it's not gratitude? How can they? I wonder...
And it's not that I personally am better than anyone else, heck, I haven't changed the world in any way (yet), and I won't expect anyone to be infallible, but I want people to try to be, at least in the one or two fields they've acknowledged as their "areas of expertise". So no, next time you show me your crappily laid out fanzine and try to pass it off as a "magazine", or next time you show me your stupid home video and try to pass it off as an "amateur film" - or even when you show me the story you wrote because you had "an idea" and ask me for my opinion, I'll tell you the truth, not a sugar-coated version of it. I'll phrase it as nicely and inoffensively as I can, but I won't hide a single thought, a single "negative" comment. I won't tell you that "you suck", I'll just try to tell you that "I expect better", and how, and why, just in case it reaches the constructive side of your brain - even if I can tell from the way you asked me that all you wanted to hear is "hey, good job". Especially if I know I could do better myself, in your shoes or mine.
But then I look around me, and I see tons of people making a living in areas where, the way I see it, they shouldn't. From a tragically mediocre television writer, to a graphic designer who "complains about her not being able to find a job, although she has a degree" - although I can produce more visually pleasing and objectively functional things than she can, and it's not even my field - to sad excuses for creators of any kind or NHS doctors who are obliged to give you 10 minutes of their time but don't invest a second of their thoughts to actually try and figure out what's wrong with you, but instead they remind you before you're able to say anything that the appointments are for no more than 10 minutes and if you need more time you'll have to book another one.
And yes, it's fair enough that these people aren't going to offer you their souls in return for your trust, but I just wonder how they can live with themselves... They are definitely within their rights to do no more than they're obliged to and hope for the best in return, but how can they dedicate their lives, that's the rest of the time they have here on earth to actually do something and be the best they can be, to some field or cause and not need to excel in it? How can they be so oblivious to anything that could be seen as constructive criticism and instead take it as an offense because it's not gratitude? How can they? I wonder...
And it's not that I personally am better than anyone else, heck, I haven't changed the world in any way (yet), and I won't expect anyone to be infallible, but I want people to try to be, at least in the one or two fields they've acknowledged as their "areas of expertise". So no, next time you show me your crappily laid out fanzine and try to pass it off as a "magazine", or next time you show me your stupid home video and try to pass it off as an "amateur film" - or even when you show me the story you wrote because you had "an idea" and ask me for my opinion, I'll tell you the truth, not a sugar-coated version of it. I'll phrase it as nicely and inoffensively as I can, but I won't hide a single thought, a single "negative" comment. I won't tell you that "you suck", I'll just try to tell you that "I expect better", and how, and why, just in case it reaches the constructive side of your brain - even if I can tell from the way you asked me that all you wanted to hear is "hey, good job". Especially if I know I could do better myself, in your shoes or mine.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Logical Fallacies
More often than not, I find myself expressing strong disagreement with what someone is saying, ranting and ranting and trying to explain myself. And more often than not, the point which I disagree with is not their actual point.
An enormous amount of people around me fall into what are, to me, painfully obvious "mistakes" in their arguments. Trying to explain and support something which may be correct or true or a matter of their own tastes and preferences, they use annoying amounts of arguments that are blatant logical fallacies.
From irrelevant or inadequate appeals to authority to "begging the question", from post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacies to straw man demagogies, from hasty generalisations to abstractions, from circular arguments to irrelevant conclusions, they're easy to fall into yet easy to spot - they're hard to avoid when arguing, and hard to explain to the person who's just fallen into one if they see you as a "debating opponent". And the most annoying thing is to be aware of one's use of them yet unable to explain them; to be the one striving for logical argumentation and a combined quest for the "truth somewhere in the middle" and be talking to someone who uses Sophism and treachery (even in their own mind) in order to "win the debate". I'm not your enemy, you ninny... I'm your compadre in our common search for the truth!
A lot of people I converse with often find me "annoying" in this sense, since, to them, I debate in a way that is not "relevant" to the question... I spend ages going over and over details in their argumentation, instead of just stating a general conclusion which I believe to be true (or not). And it's all in the eye of the beholder... I DO want to agree with people, I sincerely do, even if it's just to "agree to disagree"... But I speak in a language that's foreign to them, which is not necessarily "wrong" - we're just incompatible in conversation.
I allow for personal tastes, as long as they are identified by the argumentor instead of stated as general "A is better/nicer/cooler than B" facts, and I allow for less "strong" statements, such as "this MAY be true" and "that is PROBABLY NOT true", but I can't accept an argument that, with logic, can just not be PROVEN as "true" or as "false", when it is presented as such. Yet I seem to be one of a tiny handful of people who cares for that...
And the funniest thing is that I spend hours annoyed by this happenstance, instead of just ignoring it (and its supporters) when I recognise it being done - most people don't care about logical theory or philosophical argumentation, and I can't say they're wrong not to care. But I, personally, care a great deal. I love to learn new things, and as such I see disagreements as challenges, as a chance to discover why and how the other person believes what he or she does, to find even a tiny fragment of truth I can learn from them. Yet when I disagree, most people assume I disagree with their actual point, with the truth of the logical argument, whereas I spend more time examining and testing the logical path that led them there.
They just want to be "right", they feel they are and as such they need to prove they are, or just reject me as an idiot in this occasion. I just want to find out the truth, or prove / show them the truth if I know it to be thus. I don't know why... I can't really do otherwise (although it should stop bugging me as much as it does, I should just accept it as one of humanity's absurdities). But it's just... well, WRONG... It's not my fault...
It. Does. Not. Compute.
An enormous amount of people around me fall into what are, to me, painfully obvious "mistakes" in their arguments. Trying to explain and support something which may be correct or true or a matter of their own tastes and preferences, they use annoying amounts of arguments that are blatant logical fallacies.
From irrelevant or inadequate appeals to authority to "begging the question", from post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacies to straw man demagogies, from hasty generalisations to abstractions, from circular arguments to irrelevant conclusions, they're easy to fall into yet easy to spot - they're hard to avoid when arguing, and hard to explain to the person who's just fallen into one if they see you as a "debating opponent". And the most annoying thing is to be aware of one's use of them yet unable to explain them; to be the one striving for logical argumentation and a combined quest for the "truth somewhere in the middle" and be talking to someone who uses Sophism and treachery (even in their own mind) in order to "win the debate". I'm not your enemy, you ninny... I'm your compadre in our common search for the truth!
A lot of people I converse with often find me "annoying" in this sense, since, to them, I debate in a way that is not "relevant" to the question... I spend ages going over and over details in their argumentation, instead of just stating a general conclusion which I believe to be true (or not). And it's all in the eye of the beholder... I DO want to agree with people, I sincerely do, even if it's just to "agree to disagree"... But I speak in a language that's foreign to them, which is not necessarily "wrong" - we're just incompatible in conversation.
I allow for personal tastes, as long as they are identified by the argumentor instead of stated as general "A is better/nicer/cooler than B" facts, and I allow for less "strong" statements, such as "this MAY be true" and "that is PROBABLY NOT true", but I can't accept an argument that, with logic, can just not be PROVEN as "true" or as "false", when it is presented as such. Yet I seem to be one of a tiny handful of people who cares for that...
And the funniest thing is that I spend hours annoyed by this happenstance, instead of just ignoring it (and its supporters) when I recognise it being done - most people don't care about logical theory or philosophical argumentation, and I can't say they're wrong not to care. But I, personally, care a great deal. I love to learn new things, and as such I see disagreements as challenges, as a chance to discover why and how the other person believes what he or she does, to find even a tiny fragment of truth I can learn from them. Yet when I disagree, most people assume I disagree with their actual point, with the truth of the logical argument, whereas I spend more time examining and testing the logical path that led them there.
They just want to be "right", they feel they are and as such they need to prove they are, or just reject me as an idiot in this occasion. I just want to find out the truth, or prove / show them the truth if I know it to be thus. I don't know why... I can't really do otherwise (although it should stop bugging me as much as it does, I should just accept it as one of humanity's absurdities). But it's just... well, WRONG... It's not my fault...
It. Does. Not. Compute.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Friends You Can Choose, Family You Cannot
My brother just joined MSN and asked for mine... I gave it to him, and for a few minutes I felt like I was at home again...
He's 15, into basketball (and girls, I suppose) and his best friend is into computer stuff and often guides him. He said, when he called, that he realised what kind of person I would be if I were in his class, and he probably wouldn't like me very much. He's probably right, although back then I was just out of my basketball phase and would still say hi to him since he'd be in my team, but he wouldn't really be a friend-friend. And we'd lose touch a year later probably, just saying a random 'hello' here and there. And my mother would now tell me about him, about how he continued his studies while I left Edinburgh and Biochemistry and such, and how he'd still be the "good son" to the "problematic daughter" I still am...
Still, I'm more than proud of myself, being a weirdo and all... And people who are not related to me and don't have to stand me by necessity seem to like me anyway, for who I am. And I could build websites when I was his age, I could script, and I wrote poetry and stories and weird teenage stuff, while he has trouble with sending email attachments... Still, he's smart, and interesting, and a great teenager if I may say so myself, well-adjusted and well brought up. And he faces my dad's whining with laughter or irony, so he's well above it, which I admire. He's got people skills which I only recently developed, and he's the kind of person that I really wanted to be when I was still his age, but I found reasons to dislike them because I lived in a different world than them in the same closed and tiny universe of school...
And the only reason I love him so much is not because he can actually think and talk and understand - a lot of people probably can, but I usually meet the other kind lately for some reason - but because he's my brother. That's why he has me on his MSN list and why he'd care about Than's webcomic or whatever, not because I'm a 15 year old girl that he likes... And it's wonderful, I think, how family - like the army, or school, or like anything else you may just get forced into without choosing the pool of people that you hang out with - is there to help you appreciate the people in it, when you wouldn't choose them if they were just random people out there...
Family is a magical thing, if you let it. And I'd wish it upon everyone, but then I think that everyone's got one of their own.
He's 15, into basketball (and girls, I suppose) and his best friend is into computer stuff and often guides him. He said, when he called, that he realised what kind of person I would be if I were in his class, and he probably wouldn't like me very much. He's probably right, although back then I was just out of my basketball phase and would still say hi to him since he'd be in my team, but he wouldn't really be a friend-friend. And we'd lose touch a year later probably, just saying a random 'hello' here and there. And my mother would now tell me about him, about how he continued his studies while I left Edinburgh and Biochemistry and such, and how he'd still be the "good son" to the "problematic daughter" I still am...
Still, I'm more than proud of myself, being a weirdo and all... And people who are not related to me and don't have to stand me by necessity seem to like me anyway, for who I am. And I could build websites when I was his age, I could script, and I wrote poetry and stories and weird teenage stuff, while he has trouble with sending email attachments... Still, he's smart, and interesting, and a great teenager if I may say so myself, well-adjusted and well brought up. And he faces my dad's whining with laughter or irony, so he's well above it, which I admire. He's got people skills which I only recently developed, and he's the kind of person that I really wanted to be when I was still his age, but I found reasons to dislike them because I lived in a different world than them in the same closed and tiny universe of school...
And the only reason I love him so much is not because he can actually think and talk and understand - a lot of people probably can, but I usually meet the other kind lately for some reason - but because he's my brother. That's why he has me on his MSN list and why he'd care about Than's webcomic or whatever, not because I'm a 15 year old girl that he likes... And it's wonderful, I think, how family - like the army, or school, or like anything else you may just get forced into without choosing the pool of people that you hang out with - is there to help you appreciate the people in it, when you wouldn't choose them if they were just random people out there...
Family is a magical thing, if you let it. And I'd wish it upon everyone, but then I think that everyone's got one of their own.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I Wanna Be Loved By You...
...just you, nobody else but you, dear self...
I was pondering upon the nature of "trying to appeal to people" and the works. And I noticed a lot of people, including myself, who want to appeal to people whom they think of as annoying, or at least not belonging to their personal mindframe. Well, I've got news for you, self: It's futile. As futile as trying to explain Quantum Physics to Schroedinger's cat, no matter how much you think it should concern them...
Take someone you think of as "stupid" for example, at least in the subject at hand... You may have a reason to appeal to them, either because you think they should or would care, or out of the goodness of your heart, or even because you want to make money off them. I'm telling you now, chances are that you'll fail even harder and more painfully the more you try.
That's not just because you'll have invested less effort and thus less to lose at the end, oh no. Nor is it because of the simple truth that most people subconsciously find absolutes more appealing, whether they're good or bad. The reason I've personally held onto as more "real" than any is simply this: "Stupid" people, or at least people who don't care enough about the subject, will either disagree with you or disagree with you anyway, and you surely can't please everyone, however hard you may try. And "smart" people, or at least people who are in your own wavelength, will appreciate you much more if you voice their opinions like they voice them in their own heads, if you have arguments for what you believe in and against what you don't, and if you're willing to talk these over and possibly even reconsider if the other side has arguments that answer yours.
It makes sense to me, however you look at it. You can even support the fact that you like to fart loudly for chrissakes, with arguments, and you'll most probably be right, at least for some. And people out there WILL identify with you, and they'll appreciate the fact that you voiced their concerns.
And no, I'm not telling you to be a bastard, especially if that's not something that makes you happy. I'm telling you to be OK with yourself, with the things you believe, if you have reasons to believe them, and feel right about voicing them and about acting the way that you do, if you have reasons for doing so. And if someone disagrees, well, listen to them, and if you feel they have a point then reconsider. But don't count the fact that they disagree as them immediately having a point. Just don't. Just tell them I said so or something.
I was pondering upon the nature of "trying to appeal to people" and the works. And I noticed a lot of people, including myself, who want to appeal to people whom they think of as annoying, or at least not belonging to their personal mindframe. Well, I've got news for you, self: It's futile. As futile as trying to explain Quantum Physics to Schroedinger's cat, no matter how much you think it should concern them...
Take someone you think of as "stupid" for example, at least in the subject at hand... You may have a reason to appeal to them, either because you think they should or would care, or out of the goodness of your heart, or even because you want to make money off them. I'm telling you now, chances are that you'll fail even harder and more painfully the more you try.
That's not just because you'll have invested less effort and thus less to lose at the end, oh no. Nor is it because of the simple truth that most people subconsciously find absolutes more appealing, whether they're good or bad. The reason I've personally held onto as more "real" than any is simply this: "Stupid" people, or at least people who don't care enough about the subject, will either disagree with you or disagree with you anyway, and you surely can't please everyone, however hard you may try. And "smart" people, or at least people who are in your own wavelength, will appreciate you much more if you voice their opinions like they voice them in their own heads, if you have arguments for what you believe in and against what you don't, and if you're willing to talk these over and possibly even reconsider if the other side has arguments that answer yours.
It makes sense to me, however you look at it. You can even support the fact that you like to fart loudly for chrissakes, with arguments, and you'll most probably be right, at least for some. And people out there WILL identify with you, and they'll appreciate the fact that you voiced their concerns.
And no, I'm not telling you to be a bastard, especially if that's not something that makes you happy. I'm telling you to be OK with yourself, with the things you believe, if you have reasons to believe them, and feel right about voicing them and about acting the way that you do, if you have reasons for doing so. And if someone disagrees, well, listen to them, and if you feel they have a point then reconsider. But don't count the fact that they disagree as them immediately having a point. Just don't. Just tell them I said so or something.
A Tiger And His Stripes
I was just saying, with a friend, that I don't really agree with the saying that "a tiger can't change his stripes"... It sounds true, I know, but when attributed to people and to "the way they are", it just sounds a tad unfitting.
People are complicated creatures, and they can see things inside them as their "stripes" when they're just temporary markings on their skin, little lines of wash-away paint that just repeat themselves often because you pass through the same freshly painted place too often. Or maybe they are your stripes, but people are unique in that they have paintbrushes and hair dyes...
People have the power to change if they want to... To change anything that annoys them, other than the past of course... But even in the past, there are reasons in the present that make it so annoying (Like, what if you got amnesia? Would it still matter? :P)
And, again, a human tiger CAN change his stripes, if he wants to...
Still, I never, ever said that you need to change to the other side... A common tiger may be disappointed with his stripes and want to emerge stripeless from the whole thing, instead of getting ones he likes... Why bother? There are so many things one can change for them to be happy... A tiger can just have different stripes, that are better than the previous ones, that satisfy him completely, that make him happy. There's no need to take things to extremes.
What matters really is finding the right balance, the right pattern, the right stripes. And sometimes you don't really have to change your stripes, if you find reasons why they've been pretty all along... It does help though, if you change even a tiny edge of the ones you have, the rest are always easier to accept.
People are complicated creatures, and they can see things inside them as their "stripes" when they're just temporary markings on their skin, little lines of wash-away paint that just repeat themselves often because you pass through the same freshly painted place too often. Or maybe they are your stripes, but people are unique in that they have paintbrushes and hair dyes...
People have the power to change if they want to... To change anything that annoys them, other than the past of course... But even in the past, there are reasons in the present that make it so annoying (Like, what if you got amnesia? Would it still matter? :P)
And, again, a human tiger CAN change his stripes, if he wants to...
Still, I never, ever said that you need to change to the other side... A common tiger may be disappointed with his stripes and want to emerge stripeless from the whole thing, instead of getting ones he likes... Why bother? There are so many things one can change for them to be happy... A tiger can just have different stripes, that are better than the previous ones, that satisfy him completely, that make him happy. There's no need to take things to extremes.
What matters really is finding the right balance, the right pattern, the right stripes. And sometimes you don't really have to change your stripes, if you find reasons why they've been pretty all along... It does help though, if you change even a tiny edge of the ones you have, the rest are always easier to accept.
Propaganda? On who, me?
I watched Munich, and talked about it for hours, and heard about Frank Miller's take on Batman beating up the Al Quaeda... And I've heard all sorts of people talk about the political aspect of these things, and I just had a couple of things to say about why I'm not bothered with it...
You see, the "World War III" thing hasn't touched me and mine, at least not yet. And for the time being, I'm allowed to be unaffected by it, thankfully - above and beyond it, and only caring about the art beside it... And for now, if I'm satisfied with that, I have no sides to take.
Yes, both Al Quaeda and the Americans have done nasty and cruel things - and the Jews and everyone who's affected by it do nasty things of their own. I notice, I see, from outside, and I don't like what each side does. I'm not going to "rank the evil", not now, and I'm not going to say one side is "more correct" than the other. There are stupid Arabs who don't think straight in the middle of all this, just as there are idiotic Americans or ones that have "selfish" reasons to think and act the way they do... And there are many, if not all, whose lives really matter, who don't have a choice really if they should give their lives to this cause, or who deliberately choose the cause, whatever it may be, above their own lives, and still leave people behind who care for them. Well, I'm truly sorry to these people, but it's a war, these things happen, and there's pain and evil all around.
And since, for the time being, I can stay out of it and be glad to love the people I love, whether they're all friends who aren't part of this or people that I admire who may or may not be, I can stay here, in my little war-shelter, and worry about the things I worry about every day. I'm truly sorry to the ones on each side that lose people they love, and if I want someone to win I know who it is - I want America to emerge victorious yet battered and poor from all this, but that's because I've lived all my life with an American world-government and I'm scared as to what it would be like with an Arab one...
But still, there's so much "propaganda" in what America produces, and I care for what it does not so much because of its content but because of its form. So if I'm unaffected by what it's trying to say ideology-wise, I don't really have to care if it's convincing people that one side is bad or that the other side is worse... It won't convince me to change what I believe - other, more important things will. I'll take the art for what it is, love it if it's good, hate it if it's bad, and just be glad that I can... I've dedicated my life to this stuff, my heart, but not my mind.
You see, the "World War III" thing hasn't touched me and mine, at least not yet. And for the time being, I'm allowed to be unaffected by it, thankfully - above and beyond it, and only caring about the art beside it... And for now, if I'm satisfied with that, I have no sides to take.
Yes, both Al Quaeda and the Americans have done nasty and cruel things - and the Jews and everyone who's affected by it do nasty things of their own. I notice, I see, from outside, and I don't like what each side does. I'm not going to "rank the evil", not now, and I'm not going to say one side is "more correct" than the other. There are stupid Arabs who don't think straight in the middle of all this, just as there are idiotic Americans or ones that have "selfish" reasons to think and act the way they do... And there are many, if not all, whose lives really matter, who don't have a choice really if they should give their lives to this cause, or who deliberately choose the cause, whatever it may be, above their own lives, and still leave people behind who care for them. Well, I'm truly sorry to these people, but it's a war, these things happen, and there's pain and evil all around.
And since, for the time being, I can stay out of it and be glad to love the people I love, whether they're all friends who aren't part of this or people that I admire who may or may not be, I can stay here, in my little war-shelter, and worry about the things I worry about every day. I'm truly sorry to the ones on each side that lose people they love, and if I want someone to win I know who it is - I want America to emerge victorious yet battered and poor from all this, but that's because I've lived all my life with an American world-government and I'm scared as to what it would be like with an Arab one...
But still, there's so much "propaganda" in what America produces, and I care for what it does not so much because of its content but because of its form. So if I'm unaffected by what it's trying to say ideology-wise, I don't really have to care if it's convincing people that one side is bad or that the other side is worse... It won't convince me to change what I believe - other, more important things will. I'll take the art for what it is, love it if it's good, hate it if it's bad, and just be glad that I can... I've dedicated my life to this stuff, my heart, but not my mind.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
A Busybody is a Somebody
I felt like a Nobody, a short while back. I felt other people were doing things, and achieving things, when I wasn't really. And then I wondered why.
Yes, it often takes a while, from the moment when you recognise something to the moment when you actually wonder why things are so - and then a longer while until you actually do something about it.
So I discovered that the reason was that I wasn't doing enough in my life. Not enough for other people, just enough for me to feel OK. I was better at some things than some others, worse at other things than some, and basically just me, there, feeling insignificant. So I just found out a few areas where I could improve, and got busy.
Now I'm really tired, I have things to do and the list seems intimidating, and I have to learn how to schedule things better in my head. But I'm happier, eventually. I lost that weird feeling, at least for the time being, and I feel, when I rest my head on the pillow at last, that I'm actually doing something. I wanted to write a blogpost for days - I don't want to leave things hanging - and I wrote three in just a few minutes. And I don't really give a toss if you hate me for it, just read the one(s) you want... Or none. I just wanted to go out, in my little clearing in the virtual forest, and shout out "I'm glad". And tired, but still glad.
Yes, it often takes a while, from the moment when you recognise something to the moment when you actually wonder why things are so - and then a longer while until you actually do something about it.
So I discovered that the reason was that I wasn't doing enough in my life. Not enough for other people, just enough for me to feel OK. I was better at some things than some others, worse at other things than some, and basically just me, there, feeling insignificant. So I just found out a few areas where I could improve, and got busy.
Now I'm really tired, I have things to do and the list seems intimidating, and I have to learn how to schedule things better in my head. But I'm happier, eventually. I lost that weird feeling, at least for the time being, and I feel, when I rest my head on the pillow at last, that I'm actually doing something. I wanted to write a blogpost for days - I don't want to leave things hanging - and I wrote three in just a few minutes. And I don't really give a toss if you hate me for it, just read the one(s) you want... Or none. I just wanted to go out, in my little clearing in the virtual forest, and shout out "I'm glad". And tired, but still glad.
Change
Oh please, change something. Change something every day. If not every day - which, if you think about it, you probably do already - change something every week, just to change something out of your own volition.
You come into this world a crying mass of meat. With people who care for you, or don't, with people who'll be there for you, or not, and with people who are paid to care for you enough to get you out safely. And you made it this far. Good for you.
You've probably changed a lot since then. You're now much more than a crying mass of meat. You have so much going on in your head and around you, and you care about most of it, you're to be thanked or blamed for some of it, and affected by all of it - and most of the time, in a very different way than you were yesterday.
So I have another game for you. It goes something like this: Choose one thing about yourself, something that has to do with the way you think, or the way you act, or even the way you look. Then make a conscious decision to change it. Think of it from other, realistic angles, until you find one you'd be happy with - either because it would make you a better person, or more appealing to the ones you choose to care about, or just because you can. It's not that hard, usually, not if you find something that's within your power to change.
The scariest thing is the idea itself: Change. Six letters, full of prospects, of good and bad. People fear change, just like people fear the unknown. And what comes after change is unknown, really. You may have a general idea, but you can't really know what things will be like, whatever it is that you may change, until you actually do. You have no prior experience, not you. But it's usually much easier than you may fear - you have nothing to lose... You have your previous experience, and you can always go back to it, richer, with what you just discovered.
Whether you want to change "the way you view that subject" or "the way you care about people you love" or even "the way you spend your day" or "the way you stand", it's not that big a deal, really. There's no such thing as "something bad might happen" or "it might not be worth it". There's no excuse like "I'm too old / young for this" or "I don't know enough about it". You can postpone things, but if you want them to change, the only person that can eventually do it, whenever they want and however they want, is you. And you're the one who will decide on when, how and why. So go ahead.
I've changed a lot over the past few years. And I've always been richer for it. And there's so much I still want to change - the list is practically endless. I just remember, sometimes, how afraid I was a while back, how reluctant I was to make that one step necessary - there's always one step, one turning point for everything - and just take the plunge. I have people to thank, people to blame, things to worry about and things to take care of that I may not have in the past, or in a different life. But this is mine. And, in the areas I care about at least, I plan to change a lot - every single day, at least in one way, until I die. There's no monsters in my closet, last time I checked, and there's not much to fear when I make a change, until I face it.
You come into this world a crying mass of meat. With people who care for you, or don't, with people who'll be there for you, or not, and with people who are paid to care for you enough to get you out safely. And you made it this far. Good for you.
You've probably changed a lot since then. You're now much more than a crying mass of meat. You have so much going on in your head and around you, and you care about most of it, you're to be thanked or blamed for some of it, and affected by all of it - and most of the time, in a very different way than you were yesterday.
So I have another game for you. It goes something like this: Choose one thing about yourself, something that has to do with the way you think, or the way you act, or even the way you look. Then make a conscious decision to change it. Think of it from other, realistic angles, until you find one you'd be happy with - either because it would make you a better person, or more appealing to the ones you choose to care about, or just because you can. It's not that hard, usually, not if you find something that's within your power to change.
The scariest thing is the idea itself: Change. Six letters, full of prospects, of good and bad. People fear change, just like people fear the unknown. And what comes after change is unknown, really. You may have a general idea, but you can't really know what things will be like, whatever it is that you may change, until you actually do. You have no prior experience, not you. But it's usually much easier than you may fear - you have nothing to lose... You have your previous experience, and you can always go back to it, richer, with what you just discovered.
Whether you want to change "the way you view that subject" or "the way you care about people you love" or even "the way you spend your day" or "the way you stand", it's not that big a deal, really. There's no such thing as "something bad might happen" or "it might not be worth it". There's no excuse like "I'm too old / young for this" or "I don't know enough about it". You can postpone things, but if you want them to change, the only person that can eventually do it, whenever they want and however they want, is you. And you're the one who will decide on when, how and why. So go ahead.
I've changed a lot over the past few years. And I've always been richer for it. And there's so much I still want to change - the list is practically endless. I just remember, sometimes, how afraid I was a while back, how reluctant I was to make that one step necessary - there's always one step, one turning point for everything - and just take the plunge. I have people to thank, people to blame, things to worry about and things to take care of that I may not have in the past, or in a different life. But this is mine. And, in the areas I care about at least, I plan to change a lot - every single day, at least in one way, until I die. There's no monsters in my closet, last time I checked, and there's not much to fear when I make a change, until I face it.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
One for all
It's strange how often I've been talking about mass psychology lately, through various forms and in various subjects. How everyone's the victim of exactly the same kind of traps, and how we'll all recognise it where and when it annoys us, but we still won't realise where it applies to our own behaviour, when we do the exact same thing and never notice unless someone bangs our heads with the knowledge - and even then, we'd much rather brand him an idiot in one way or another, a person that doesn't get "us" and the way "we" think instead of us realising our own generalisations and subjectivity.
More than often we'll be offended by the fact that someone generalises, including us (at least in our head) in a category we don't feel like we belong to. Whether the person is right or wrong, whether we do in fact belong to the "type" that annoys them or not, for whatever further reason, we are partly to blame. If what bothers us is that we in fact annoy people, well, that will happen a lot. Than says, and I at least know what he means, that for every single one of us 99% of people are idiots, and we all belong to our own 1%. And it's easy to convince someone, should we care - for other reasons - to do so, that we are worth his while even if we do, in fact, belong to one of his "hate categories" - there are always exceptions to these. If, on the other hand, we have several reasons to believe that we don't really belong to the category altogether, all we need to do is confirm this in our heads (is he indeed so blind, or oblivious to what "we" are, or does he have a point somewhere, whether we are annoyed by it in ourselves and others like he is or not?) and then, if we still feel like we don't belong, we can just feel safe in that knowledge, and brand him any way we like. If, on the other hand, he's right somewhere, then all we need to do is decide how and why this affects us, with our own priorities and personal vision, or not, and if it does then change it to what we'd like (everyone changes in some way, every single second of their life) - or repeat the previous step...
I could go on giving personal examples of this - how I've been whining lately about people generalising about how "Hollywood is evil, Alternative American Cinema rules and French Cinema is easy to digest", "This-and-that genre of comics is so much deeper and insightful than the one you prefer", "Bestseller books are so much shallower and popularised than other types you may read" etc, but I feel that, even though these opinions deeply annoy me when I cross paths with them, I sometimes behave that way when it's a topic which I'm not as interested in as the other person, and I'd much rather give you a positive example (when I've mentioned the other ones in all their apparent absurdity, to me and my likes at least).
I was talking with this friend-of-a-friend the other day - someone who hugely flattered me by mentioning that he actually reads my blog and likes it, although he barely knows me, and will probably read this as well - and the topic flowed to music eventually. We'd talked about music in the past, but I was quick to judge him as "someone who's not into the same stuff as me, fair enough." This time, however, when I asked him what genres he listens to, he gave a great big list, just like I do when I'm asked. Still, the fact remained that not even one of the various genres I mention were anything like the various genres he mentioned. And I gave it a few more seconds of thought. In those few seconds I realised that... "Hey, wait a second, this guy is so much like me in a sense... He cares about a great deal of different music, enough to care about mentioning the genres themselves too, to separate them in his head and feel, just like me, that there's too much overlap between these to mention... Too much for the person I'm talking with to care about...".
One day, in the exact same discussion, you focus on the "difference" side, and the next you focus on the "similarity"... You bitch. I'd still not "communicate" with this person tastes-wise in music, but I just wish I could always give people the same benefit of the doubt before I draw any conclusions about them, about myself, or about anything. I just wish I could always make that "mental click".
And all I'm saying is, if you can, please do.
More than often we'll be offended by the fact that someone generalises, including us (at least in our head) in a category we don't feel like we belong to. Whether the person is right or wrong, whether we do in fact belong to the "type" that annoys them or not, for whatever further reason, we are partly to blame. If what bothers us is that we in fact annoy people, well, that will happen a lot. Than says, and I at least know what he means, that for every single one of us 99% of people are idiots, and we all belong to our own 1%. And it's easy to convince someone, should we care - for other reasons - to do so, that we are worth his while even if we do, in fact, belong to one of his "hate categories" - there are always exceptions to these. If, on the other hand, we have several reasons to believe that we don't really belong to the category altogether, all we need to do is confirm this in our heads (is he indeed so blind, or oblivious to what "we" are, or does he have a point somewhere, whether we are annoyed by it in ourselves and others like he is or not?) and then, if we still feel like we don't belong, we can just feel safe in that knowledge, and brand him any way we like. If, on the other hand, he's right somewhere, then all we need to do is decide how and why this affects us, with our own priorities and personal vision, or not, and if it does then change it to what we'd like (everyone changes in some way, every single second of their life) - or repeat the previous step...
I could go on giving personal examples of this - how I've been whining lately about people generalising about how "Hollywood is evil, Alternative American Cinema rules and French Cinema is easy to digest", "This-and-that genre of comics is so much deeper and insightful than the one you prefer", "Bestseller books are so much shallower and popularised than other types you may read" etc, but I feel that, even though these opinions deeply annoy me when I cross paths with them, I sometimes behave that way when it's a topic which I'm not as interested in as the other person, and I'd much rather give you a positive example (when I've mentioned the other ones in all their apparent absurdity, to me and my likes at least).
I was talking with this friend-of-a-friend the other day - someone who hugely flattered me by mentioning that he actually reads my blog and likes it, although he barely knows me, and will probably read this as well - and the topic flowed to music eventually. We'd talked about music in the past, but I was quick to judge him as "someone who's not into the same stuff as me, fair enough." This time, however, when I asked him what genres he listens to, he gave a great big list, just like I do when I'm asked. Still, the fact remained that not even one of the various genres I mention were anything like the various genres he mentioned. And I gave it a few more seconds of thought. In those few seconds I realised that... "Hey, wait a second, this guy is so much like me in a sense... He cares about a great deal of different music, enough to care about mentioning the genres themselves too, to separate them in his head and feel, just like me, that there's too much overlap between these to mention... Too much for the person I'm talking with to care about...".
One day, in the exact same discussion, you focus on the "difference" side, and the next you focus on the "similarity"... You bitch. I'd still not "communicate" with this person tastes-wise in music, but I just wish I could always give people the same benefit of the doubt before I draw any conclusions about them, about myself, or about anything. I just wish I could always make that "mental click".
And all I'm saying is, if you can, please do.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Essay Writing
I spent the last couple of weeks worrying about essays (and about a couple of days actually writing the damn things). It was quite an ordeal, for me at least, the sociopath that will avoid doing what she has to do until way beyond the last moment.
It's amazing how I can turn from being branded a polymath wunderkind one second to unreliable problem child the next... Where essays are involved I can only blame one thing for this phenomenon, however: They're tragically stupid.
You get a topic you may or may not care about, you get a word limit and a set amount of issues you need to cover in it, and even need to reference the popculturally obvious. You need to write something you could say in a sentence to someone smart or informed enough, and expand it to 1500 words, or have 2000 words in which to cover something you could talk or write about in hours. And all this according to formal academic conventions, in a subject where you have discovered more than they give you credit for during the rest of your life, or regarding an issue which you already have set opinions about - and possibly even know how little you care about it, even if you know what there is to know and "it has affected what you like now in a way" - and show that you've been a good enough student and read what you never needed to read in the first place.
I object.
It's amazing how I can turn from being branded a polymath wunderkind one second to unreliable problem child the next... Where essays are involved I can only blame one thing for this phenomenon, however: They're tragically stupid.
You get a topic you may or may not care about, you get a word limit and a set amount of issues you need to cover in it, and even need to reference the popculturally obvious. You need to write something you could say in a sentence to someone smart or informed enough, and expand it to 1500 words, or have 2000 words in which to cover something you could talk or write about in hours. And all this according to formal academic conventions, in a subject where you have discovered more than they give you credit for during the rest of your life, or regarding an issue which you already have set opinions about - and possibly even know how little you care about it, even if you know what there is to know and "it has affected what you like now in a way" - and show that you've been a good enough student and read what you never needed to read in the first place.
I object.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
IWYSIOK
I must begin by stating that these initials have been coined by my friend Daniel - DJ, translator, pedant and stoner extraordinaire, altogether quite a sexy fellow and co-creator and president of our own fictional country which is made for half-breeds like us, who are considered Greek when in England and English when in Greece. The initials mean "I Was Young So It's OK", and they're all about how things you did when you were younger may appear almost idiotic to you today, but you really can't spend time worrying about it; it's all understandable really, I Was Young So It's OK.
It can be wonderful, every once in a while, to visit your past in your head, to wonder whether your "old self" of whatever moment in time would think of yourself now and vice-versa, if the two of you (pun intended) were to actually meet and engage in casual (or deeper) conversation. What you wore back then, what you looked like, what you believed, the way you thought or acted in different circumstances or even the people you tended to like or dislike... It all helps put things in perspective: all your thoughts, hopes, fears, expectations, the things you take for granted or the things you don't trust... It all seems so trivial when you see it through the eyes of someone that's beyond the outlook of these two people, who may be so different in many respects and so similar in others; these two aspects of you.
Both the way you see your past self, and the way your past self would view "the you of today", or even an impartial comparison of the two (or three or googol plex) aspects of the same person can potentially make you wiser, even if just for a few moments of innocent contemplation, in the shower or before you fall asleep. Try it, it's worth the pain.
It can be wonderful, every once in a while, to visit your past in your head, to wonder whether your "old self" of whatever moment in time would think of yourself now and vice-versa, if the two of you (pun intended) were to actually meet and engage in casual (or deeper) conversation. What you wore back then, what you looked like, what you believed, the way you thought or acted in different circumstances or even the people you tended to like or dislike... It all helps put things in perspective: all your thoughts, hopes, fears, expectations, the things you take for granted or the things you don't trust... It all seems so trivial when you see it through the eyes of someone that's beyond the outlook of these two people, who may be so different in many respects and so similar in others; these two aspects of you.
Both the way you see your past self, and the way your past self would view "the you of today", or even an impartial comparison of the two (or three or googol plex) aspects of the same person can potentially make you wiser, even if just for a few moments of innocent contemplation, in the shower or before you fall asleep. Try it, it's worth the pain.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Deep Enough
A couple of days ago, a person who is (on any other day) one of my favourite people in the world, an ex boyfriend of mine with similar in strength - yet completely different in focus - intellectual, sociological and philosophical concerns as myself, expressed a truly radical opinion about creation, referring specifically to creative computer programmes and the like.
He said, and he was quite ludicrously wrong the way he expressed it, that he himself can do anything anyone else can, given the same computer programme and the internet, with all its tutorials and help files. What he was trying to say was that, well, all computer programmes speak the same "language", they have buttons and controls that perform various functions, and if you know what you want to do and the programme is capable of doing it, it's only a matter of time before you understand the specifics of the programme's function in order to produce the required results.
Of course, when he said so, I was shocked and offended, just as everyone else (most of "everyone else" being more creative people than I). It sounded as if he was trying to say that creativity is "worthless", that it's just a skill or a craft, that artists in any computer-related medium do nothing but use a programme, in the same way that an accountant uses a programme to do his job. And obviously many of us were hasty in producing examples of awesome digital art which we believe nobody could do "just to prove a point". And, the way we saw it, we were mostly right.
Nobody can do something exemplary "just for the effect". Nobody can learn a skill or craft that will inspire others, unless it's a priority or a dream of theirs to do so, unless they have reasons to pursue such a feat. But yes, anyone who spends the time necessary, anyone who invests the required effort into learning a programme - or any craft for that matter - will eventually master it; often faster and better than they initially imagine.
Yet that's not all. In order to be truly exemplary, an artist instead of a craftsman, one has to go deep enough. Deep enough into one's chosen craft or art, and deep enough into one's soul. And when one does, and produces something spattered with droplets of one's heart, and shares it with the world, only then is one truly exemplary.
He said, and he was quite ludicrously wrong the way he expressed it, that he himself can do anything anyone else can, given the same computer programme and the internet, with all its tutorials and help files. What he was trying to say was that, well, all computer programmes speak the same "language", they have buttons and controls that perform various functions, and if you know what you want to do and the programme is capable of doing it, it's only a matter of time before you understand the specifics of the programme's function in order to produce the required results.
Of course, when he said so, I was shocked and offended, just as everyone else (most of "everyone else" being more creative people than I). It sounded as if he was trying to say that creativity is "worthless", that it's just a skill or a craft, that artists in any computer-related medium do nothing but use a programme, in the same way that an accountant uses a programme to do his job. And obviously many of us were hasty in producing examples of awesome digital art which we believe nobody could do "just to prove a point". And, the way we saw it, we were mostly right.
Nobody can do something exemplary "just for the effect". Nobody can learn a skill or craft that will inspire others, unless it's a priority or a dream of theirs to do so, unless they have reasons to pursue such a feat. But yes, anyone who spends the time necessary, anyone who invests the required effort into learning a programme - or any craft for that matter - will eventually master it; often faster and better than they initially imagine.
Yet that's not all. In order to be truly exemplary, an artist instead of a craftsman, one has to go deep enough. Deep enough into one's chosen craft or art, and deep enough into one's soul. And when one does, and produces something spattered with droplets of one's heart, and shares it with the world, only then is one truly exemplary.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Devious Deviants: Divide & Conquer
I just woke up. Yes, I know it's 4:30 in the morning, but I fell asleep at around 10, decidedly drunk and happy with my day.
The full story is as follows: We had a revision session for European Cinema, taught by one of my 2 favourite lecturers, and one of my 30 or so favourite people in the Universe - those of you who have seen our last year's film will know who I'm talking about. Yeah, that guy...
We were having a smoke outside, just before class, and naturally he came over, we offered him a cigarette and the "interested" crowd (no more than 5 people out of a 100-or-so people course) and him talked about academia and stuff.
He then offered to take us to the pub after class, so that's precisely what happened (exam nerves seem to disappear when the guy is so brilliantly entertaining - I mean, who cares about European cinema? I'll tell you who: people who have Ron as a professor...). So there we were, drinking and talking about cinema and life in general and cinema and films and cinema.
What struck me as so wonderful and unique and blogworthy was the actual crowd. There we were, three people from Greece, one from Britain and one from Sweden with a South African accent (Iwona was working as usual so she couldn't make it), each with their own completely different tastes and opinions on the same general subject - Chris is into classic black & white cinema, Bergman and such, John is into indie arty contemporary stuff, Than is into comedy and "making your film with any means you've got", I'm the kind that will justify my tastes as "new media", anything innovative and original yet classically effective, while Ron, the lecturer, a 50- or 60-something year old man with the heart of a 20-year-old, is into Nicholas Ray and vintage American cinema in general.
Still, all of us connected so well. We viewed the same subjects the same way, and, no matter if we disagreed on almost everything tastes-wise, we discovered the exact same things from completely different viewpoints. The chemistry was magical. And everyone there was glad to be there, to be part of this odd and wondrous group.
So, no, you don't choose the people you like, or love, because they're as close as possible to you. That never broadens your horizons wide enough, there's nothing there for you to learn and expand. You choose the people you can communicate with, the people that can show you a different window through which to see the same lovely view of the world outside that you're humbled by.
The full story is as follows: We had a revision session for European Cinema, taught by one of my 2 favourite lecturers, and one of my 30 or so favourite people in the Universe - those of you who have seen our last year's film will know who I'm talking about. Yeah, that guy...
We were having a smoke outside, just before class, and naturally he came over, we offered him a cigarette and the "interested" crowd (no more than 5 people out of a 100-or-so people course) and him talked about academia and stuff.
He then offered to take us to the pub after class, so that's precisely what happened (exam nerves seem to disappear when the guy is so brilliantly entertaining - I mean, who cares about European cinema? I'll tell you who: people who have Ron as a professor...). So there we were, drinking and talking about cinema and life in general and cinema and films and cinema.
What struck me as so wonderful and unique and blogworthy was the actual crowd. There we were, three people from Greece, one from Britain and one from Sweden with a South African accent (Iwona was working as usual so she couldn't make it), each with their own completely different tastes and opinions on the same general subject - Chris is into classic black & white cinema, Bergman and such, John is into indie arty contemporary stuff, Than is into comedy and "making your film with any means you've got", I'm the kind that will justify my tastes as "new media", anything innovative and original yet classically effective, while Ron, the lecturer, a 50- or 60-something year old man with the heart of a 20-year-old, is into Nicholas Ray and vintage American cinema in general.
Still, all of us connected so well. We viewed the same subjects the same way, and, no matter if we disagreed on almost everything tastes-wise, we discovered the exact same things from completely different viewpoints. The chemistry was magical. And everyone there was glad to be there, to be part of this odd and wondrous group.
So, no, you don't choose the people you like, or love, because they're as close as possible to you. That never broadens your horizons wide enough, there's nothing there for you to learn and expand. You choose the people you can communicate with, the people that can show you a different window through which to see the same lovely view of the world outside that you're humbled by.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Artificial Stupidity
To quote the Buffy musical episode, "I have a theory".
It goes something like this: few people are truly "stupid". I don't believe we are born "tabula rasa" per se (I studied biochemistry and genetics for way too many years to stick to that belief), but I do tend to think that, in this matter at least (as with many others), where the nature Vs nurture battle comes in, nurture wins. Especially in cases of "viable offspring" of humankind, with a quasi-normal genome and what-have-you.
One's IQ has been proven to be able to fluctuate within a lifetime, and "imho" - and the "ho" of others before me - IQ is not a 100% reliable form of "measuring intelligence" anyway, since intelligence itself is a debateable term, drawing mainly from social and personal expectations and standards. And one may find that a person they once thought of as unintelligent may prove to be intelligent after all, even according to the same person's standards - just look at the millions of examples of students who were classified as "non-bright" that end up achieving great results, either at school or later on in life. Intelligence is such a relative term, such a matter of circumstance, so arbitrary...
I tend to face people with very little leniency as regards to my expectations of their intelligence. I do realise that this is only based on my own definitions of intelligence, my own understanding of each case and each person as we interact, and my own value of what-I-call-intelligence above other things such as avoidance of offense to others. And I can't help but accept that this causes me more grief than it does to others - although I do tend to avoid taking such matters too personally or too emotionally, or even "for granted". All my opinions, estimates and judgements hold true for me only until proven otherwise, or until I think of "better ones", anyway.
But the truth of the matter is, I do believe that what's ultimately responsible for a person's intelligence is themselves. Yes, I firmly believe that circumstance and their upbringing play a major part in this, but, just as we won't "completely forgive" a criminal because of his upbringing or the circumstances of their crime, I still believe that, all things taken into consideration, anyone could possibly have evolved otherwise, and there's always a chance to learn better.
Maybe if my father hadn't sat me down when I was three years old to teach me how to read and write, and if he hadn't told me off for not remembering what "k" looked like the first time around (this is probably my first memory - a Mel Trivial for you lucky readers), maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be here writing this blog post today. But then again... who knows? I could have discovered that reading and writing appealed to me anyway when I eventually went to Grammar School, and, one thing leading to another, I could have had the same urge to write this specific post tonight, using these exact words. Who can tell?
Still, just take a person whom you consider stupid as your personal example. Picture them in your mind, remember the time when you last thought "hey, he's so bloomin' stoo-pid!" and hold that thought. Just assume, for a moment, that they really are stupid, that your verdict was correct and that your current definition of what stupidity actually is holds true for mankind in general (which it doesn't, but just pretend, for the sake of this thought experiment). Then ask yourself why this person reacted in that specific way. Was it the way they were brought up? Was it the fact that they spoke or acted before applying the necessary thought? Was it because they hadn't yet been exposed to the same experiences, ideas or knowledge that you have? It may be a combination of these factors, and possibly even more. But all of these factors are usually changeable, up to a certain point. It's just a matter of "Is it worth the effort?" or "Why should I bother? I'm not their mother!"
So, Than, next time you tell me off about spending too much time or effort trying to "educate the masses" or "explain things that should be obvious to people who refuse to understand them", just attribute it to my own mild version of a Messiah Syndrome, and smile 'cause you love the oft-romantic idiot that is me.
It goes something like this: few people are truly "stupid". I don't believe we are born "tabula rasa" per se (I studied biochemistry and genetics for way too many years to stick to that belief), but I do tend to think that, in this matter at least (as with many others), where the nature Vs nurture battle comes in, nurture wins. Especially in cases of "viable offspring" of humankind, with a quasi-normal genome and what-have-you.
One's IQ has been proven to be able to fluctuate within a lifetime, and "imho" - and the "ho" of others before me - IQ is not a 100% reliable form of "measuring intelligence" anyway, since intelligence itself is a debateable term, drawing mainly from social and personal expectations and standards. And one may find that a person they once thought of as unintelligent may prove to be intelligent after all, even according to the same person's standards - just look at the millions of examples of students who were classified as "non-bright" that end up achieving great results, either at school or later on in life. Intelligence is such a relative term, such a matter of circumstance, so arbitrary...
I tend to face people with very little leniency as regards to my expectations of their intelligence. I do realise that this is only based on my own definitions of intelligence, my own understanding of each case and each person as we interact, and my own value of what-I-call-intelligence above other things such as avoidance of offense to others. And I can't help but accept that this causes me more grief than it does to others - although I do tend to avoid taking such matters too personally or too emotionally, or even "for granted". All my opinions, estimates and judgements hold true for me only until proven otherwise, or until I think of "better ones", anyway.
But the truth of the matter is, I do believe that what's ultimately responsible for a person's intelligence is themselves. Yes, I firmly believe that circumstance and their upbringing play a major part in this, but, just as we won't "completely forgive" a criminal because of his upbringing or the circumstances of their crime, I still believe that, all things taken into consideration, anyone could possibly have evolved otherwise, and there's always a chance to learn better.
Maybe if my father hadn't sat me down when I was three years old to teach me how to read and write, and if he hadn't told me off for not remembering what "k" looked like the first time around (this is probably my first memory - a Mel Trivial for you lucky readers), maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be here writing this blog post today. But then again... who knows? I could have discovered that reading and writing appealed to me anyway when I eventually went to Grammar School, and, one thing leading to another, I could have had the same urge to write this specific post tonight, using these exact words. Who can tell?
Still, just take a person whom you consider stupid as your personal example. Picture them in your mind, remember the time when you last thought "hey, he's so bloomin' stoo-pid!" and hold that thought. Just assume, for a moment, that they really are stupid, that your verdict was correct and that your current definition of what stupidity actually is holds true for mankind in general (which it doesn't, but just pretend, for the sake of this thought experiment). Then ask yourself why this person reacted in that specific way. Was it the way they were brought up? Was it the fact that they spoke or acted before applying the necessary thought? Was it because they hadn't yet been exposed to the same experiences, ideas or knowledge that you have? It may be a combination of these factors, and possibly even more. But all of these factors are usually changeable, up to a certain point. It's just a matter of "Is it worth the effort?" or "Why should I bother? I'm not their mother!"
So, Than, next time you tell me off about spending too much time or effort trying to "educate the masses" or "explain things that should be obvious to people who refuse to understand them", just attribute it to my own mild version of a Messiah Syndrome, and smile 'cause you love the oft-romantic idiot that is me.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Laughter is indeed the best medicine...
There's a theory out there about laughter. It's based on the fact that when monkeys "laugh" it's an aggressive expression, where they're "showing their teeth" to weaker members of their pack.
It goes on about how laughter is in fact an expression of a feeling of superiority.
That's why, according to this theory, we laugh at slapstick humor - bad things happening to people - or at racist, sexist, discriminating etc jokes. When we laugh at something directed at us, it's just because we feel that we're beyond that remark, either because it is untrue or exaggerated, or because we don't care about its truth.
When we laugh at jokes directed to a group we belong to, it's because we're able to separate ourselves from the stereotype, but we're aware of its existence. My mother will laugh at blonde jokes, although she's blonde, because she feels secure about her intelligence. I will laugh at jokes about women, or about Greeks, or any other group I belong to but don't identify with its stereotypes. And I started laughing at Bluthan's jokes about my ass for example when I realised that he likes it the way it is and stopped feeling threatened.
And that's why we stop laughing at jokes which we've heard too many times before. They start being annoying, so they affect us. Or we refuse to identify with the person who tells the joke, because his recent realisation is our already-possessed knowledge, so in a sense he is inferior to us - or we take no pride in the realisation.
We laugh at things we believe are beneath us, or inconsequential to us. There are indeed times where it would be inappropriate to make a joke - we would feel guilty making a joke about someone we cared about at his funeral, or if we know that someone in the "audience" of the joke is not comfortable with its subject matter - but I do think that laughing things off is the best way to come to terms with them. When we start seeing things as funny, we find reasons why it should not annoy us. When we laugh at something, we cast it aside, and we allow ourselves to stop worrying about it.
So, next time something bothers you, try and find ways to make it sound funny in your head. Invent jokes about it, exaggerate it, parody it. It's been working for me, lately, and I'm happier. And, mark my word, it will never stop you from doing what needs to be done about it - if anything, it just helps you think clearer, see the big picture and face it effectively.
It goes on about how laughter is in fact an expression of a feeling of superiority.
That's why, according to this theory, we laugh at slapstick humor - bad things happening to people - or at racist, sexist, discriminating etc jokes. When we laugh at something directed at us, it's just because we feel that we're beyond that remark, either because it is untrue or exaggerated, or because we don't care about its truth.
When we laugh at jokes directed to a group we belong to, it's because we're able to separate ourselves from the stereotype, but we're aware of its existence. My mother will laugh at blonde jokes, although she's blonde, because she feels secure about her intelligence. I will laugh at jokes about women, or about Greeks, or any other group I belong to but don't identify with its stereotypes. And I started laughing at Bluthan's jokes about my ass for example when I realised that he likes it the way it is and stopped feeling threatened.
And that's why we stop laughing at jokes which we've heard too many times before. They start being annoying, so they affect us. Or we refuse to identify with the person who tells the joke, because his recent realisation is our already-possessed knowledge, so in a sense he is inferior to us - or we take no pride in the realisation.
We laugh at things we believe are beneath us, or inconsequential to us. There are indeed times where it would be inappropriate to make a joke - we would feel guilty making a joke about someone we cared about at his funeral, or if we know that someone in the "audience" of the joke is not comfortable with its subject matter - but I do think that laughing things off is the best way to come to terms with them. When we start seeing things as funny, we find reasons why it should not annoy us. When we laugh at something, we cast it aside, and we allow ourselves to stop worrying about it.
So, next time something bothers you, try and find ways to make it sound funny in your head. Invent jokes about it, exaggerate it, parody it. It's been working for me, lately, and I'm happier. And, mark my word, it will never stop you from doing what needs to be done about it - if anything, it just helps you think clearer, see the big picture and face it effectively.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Ars Gratia Artis
The worst thing in the world, in my book, just after Erich Von Dainiken and gumbo.
Let me elaborate (as if you have a choice...):
Once upon a time, all art served a purpose. It was either there to show off the creator's technical aptitudes, or to pay tribute to gods or kings, to pass across some message, or just to entertain the public. And those were great times indeed. There were no "experts" deciding what was worthy of the title of "art", there was no elitism involved (unless you count skill-related and public acceptance-related contests among artists themselves) and there were no people around trying to prove they know their shite in a field where omniscience is impossible.
Until one day, can't really tell you the exact date and time, some Jo Aristocrat decided that, since he can't really do anything creative, and since he knows of a few people that can, it was his job and his alone to decide what's good and what's not. And he managed to convince several other people of the truth of his statements, or at least of his (and their) right to decide. And the more they manifested their beliefs and personal tastes, the more credit they gained, just because.
It's funny how people like to be told what to believe, what to like and what not to like, what to accept and what not to accept, even though they almost never admit it. This is the exact attitude that led to art of all kinds being mutated into a quasi-scientific field like mathematics. Which really doesn't make sense to me, let me tell you, since the basic premise of art is that its value should be in the eye of the beholder. What speaks to me, because of my personality, experiences, aesthetic taste and the mere fact that I noticed or dwelled upon something you didn't, doesn't necessarily speak to you, or your brother, or your teacher who's an "expert".
So now there's all these self-appointed artists around, who just do something, name it art, and thus rid themselves of any responsibility. Immediately, their creation is labelled "art" whereas in other cases it would have been ignored or despised by any given member of the public.
It's useless to apply the word "art" to anything that may seem interesting, provoking (aesthetically or intellectually) or beautiful to someone. Everything may mean something to someone, so it's unbearably wholistic. Admittedly, it's shorter to say "art" than to say "something someone somewhere found interesting", but why would one want to point something like that out, I wonder?
Let me elaborate (as if you have a choice...):
Once upon a time, all art served a purpose. It was either there to show off the creator's technical aptitudes, or to pay tribute to gods or kings, to pass across some message, or just to entertain the public. And those were great times indeed. There were no "experts" deciding what was worthy of the title of "art", there was no elitism involved (unless you count skill-related and public acceptance-related contests among artists themselves) and there were no people around trying to prove they know their shite in a field where omniscience is impossible.
Until one day, can't really tell you the exact date and time, some Jo Aristocrat decided that, since he can't really do anything creative, and since he knows of a few people that can, it was his job and his alone to decide what's good and what's not. And he managed to convince several other people of the truth of his statements, or at least of his (and their) right to decide. And the more they manifested their beliefs and personal tastes, the more credit they gained, just because.
It's funny how people like to be told what to believe, what to like and what not to like, what to accept and what not to accept, even though they almost never admit it. This is the exact attitude that led to art of all kinds being mutated into a quasi-scientific field like mathematics. Which really doesn't make sense to me, let me tell you, since the basic premise of art is that its value should be in the eye of the beholder. What speaks to me, because of my personality, experiences, aesthetic taste and the mere fact that I noticed or dwelled upon something you didn't, doesn't necessarily speak to you, or your brother, or your teacher who's an "expert".
So now there's all these self-appointed artists around, who just do something, name it art, and thus rid themselves of any responsibility. Immediately, their creation is labelled "art" whereas in other cases it would have been ignored or despised by any given member of the public.
It's useless to apply the word "art" to anything that may seem interesting, provoking (aesthetically or intellectually) or beautiful to someone. Everything may mean something to someone, so it's unbearably wholistic. Admittedly, it's shorter to say "art" than to say "something someone somewhere found interesting", but why would one want to point something like that out, I wonder?
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