It isn't often that I'm confronted by the biases and cognitive errors of individuals, but today was an exception. First, a little background. I've noticed that people, while walking, tend to treat other people as objects, that if the correct pressure is applied, will move out of their way. The pressure can be in various forms: body language, facial expressions, or actual force. I combat this psychological trend by fulfilling the other persons expectations of my object-ness. I do not adjust my stance to defensive of offensive, I do not make eye contact and smile or frown, I do not even move when they attempt to push past me. This creates an issue for them, because if they continue treating me as an object which can be moved by greater force, they will consider themselves rude, and violating social expectations. I therefore become a person, and they move around me.
Secondly, I'm left handed. However, I live in a world that is 98% (approx.) right handed. This creates certain sociological ideas about the way things proceed. Specifically on a stairway, we stay to our right. I acknowledge this, and act accordingly, staying to my right on stairways. All people do this to some extent, but occasionally it is acceptable to violate this rule if one is sufficiently rushed, can move very quickly, or there are large crowds of people moving in one direction. However, when the rule is violated in direct action against me, this doesn't negate my need to continue motion to my destination. I simply don't attempt to move quickly, but that doesn't mean I arrest my motion entirely.
So, these two things happened today. I was on a stairway congested with people moving the opposite direction from myself and a particular individual viewed me as an obstacle to his destination. I behaved as if I were said object, and resisted the force, then continued on my way. Here is where today differed.
The man in question, followed me back down the stairs to yell at me. He told me I was rude, that he was now in pain because of an injury he sustained helping people, and I aggravated it. Asking me if I knew he was injured and that he helped people. His final words were, "I've helped a million people and you're mean and stupid." Then he walked off.
Now I would have loved to have a full conversation with this individual, but I cannot, so I'm going to think, really really hard, about everything he said, and see what conclusion I can reach about his argument.
1. He helped a million people:
Okay, even assuming this figure is accurate, what does that mean? If I had helped one million and one people, would I be right? Two million? Five million? Does the number of good deeds increase my ability to be right in situations? No, it doesn't. Hitler helped all of Germany out of an economic crisis, but the Holocaust was still wrong.
2. I'm mean and stupid:
Right, I can be mean, everyone can. Maybe I was even mean to this particular man, but it wasn't a conscious act of evil. I didn't look at him and say to myself, "Here is a crippled old man, I'm gonna hurt him." I didn't look at him at all. Also, I may be less intelligent than him, I didn't get a chance to compare curriculum vitae with him, so I cannot know. And wouldn't my lower intelligence mean that you should explain what went on, since clearly that's the crux of that argument. That I was to stupid to know what I'd done wrong. This was a learning opportunity for me, but he stole it by walking away. Now I'm left with my less intelligent brain to figure out what I might have learned from him. Nether of these points have any particular bearing on the argument as a whole.
3. He was injured:
This is a two part response.
First, I couldn't have known this without knowing the man more intimately than his shoulder meeting mine in a stairway. Okay, maybe I could have if I observed his walk, and how he moved up the stairs and had a more complete understanding of human physiology, muscle and bone structures. But this isn't really something that a lot of people have, so I think it's a fair assumption both ways that the probability of me knowing he was injured is exactly equal to the probability that I have all the aforementioned knowledge.
Second, he didn't exactly move like someone cognizant of their injured status. If your injured, you tend to take your time on stairs, and avoid strain on the injured area. This is, I understand, especially true of back injuries since most of you muscles connect in someway, to your back muscles. He was clearly rushing, since he felt the need to violate the social norm of stairways, and the need to push back against my force. If he really was injured, he wouldn't have pushed back. That would be a great way to aggravate the injury. And then to follow me downstairs to turn around and go back up the stairs, that would just be more painful for a back injury.
So in finality,this encounter was one with a person and a big old ball of cognitive biases. He viewed his argument as more valid because he had a more intimate knowledge of himself as a person and demonstrated the attribution error. His insults to me and accolades to himself demonstrated argument ad hominem. His helpfulness made him good, his injury made him vulnerable, his age gave him authority. for him, my ignoring him made me mean, my responses to him made me rude, and me defiance made me stupid. These thing became enduring characteristics of me through my actions against him. Likewise, I could view him as stupid for not considering my point of view, or mean for yelling at me, or rude for pushing me. Mostly I just find him annoyingly human.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Fiction Cont.
(Continue from Fiction. If you haven't read that, don't read this)
The teamster who was taking the boy part way to the city was only planning on a three day journey to a nearby town where he would sell his fair and return. He was an old teamster, used to long, silent trips, but was not unlikable. He could have a fine conversation with young children, having a few himself. However, he knew of the strange boy, and knew that he could be left well enough on his own, so the first day of the journey passed in silence, save a smattering of instructions when it came time to bed down for the night. The sun rose on the second day with a likewise short conversation as they headed onward. The second day passed much like the first, though the teamster noticed the boy paying quite close attention to the scenery and the wagon. Often alternating his view between the two.
On the third day, the teamster tried to engage the boy in conversation. It began something like this:
"So boy, what do you think a' life outside the town?" asked the teamster.
"Hmm...?" replied the boy.
"I asked, 'what do you think a' life outside the town?'"
"Oh, it's nice enough. Pretty much all the same so far though isn't it?" queried the child.
"Oh I suppose," countered the teamster. "Though, it's gettin warmer as we leave the shadow o' the mountain. There's a big ol river that we'll be driving over soon, bigger n' the one at home. An there are diffren types a' trees. That one there," he said pointing to a stump of a tree, "is called a Birch."
"Huh," replied the boy, "I hadn't really thought about the trees yet."
"Adn't thought about the trees? What have you been starin at this whole time then boy?" the teamster demanded a little affronted that the facts about his track had been ignored.
"Well sir, I've been staring at the country side going by," the boy replied, quite unperturbed.
"Tat's what I was just tellin you about!" now fully upset at the daftness of the boy.
"I know sir, but is it really moving by us?"
"What are you talkin about, of course it isn't movin by US. We're in a wagon, we're goin by it," replied the now baffled and annoyed teamster.
"I get that sir, but here," the boy pulls an apple his mother packed for him to eat and places it on the bench between them. "Is this apple moving?" he asks.
"No ya daft fool, its sittin right there."
"But we're moving, in the wagon" explained the boy.
"Well yeah," replied the teamster, now just baffled. "The wagon is movin, but us an the apple, we're just sittin here."
"Moving with the wagon," prompted the boy.
"Yes," the teamster posited.
"Okay sir, but supposed the wagon, and us, and the apple, we all stopped moving, would we stay in the same place?"
"Okay, now your just bein ridiculous boy. The wagon here is movin, with us and the apple here, and we three are just sittin. If we stopped movin, we'd stop goin forward, so we'd stay in the same spot."
"But sir, in school they taught us that all the times, the ground we're standing on is spinning around in space like a top, and while its spinning, it's moving around the sun. That's why we get day and night and summer and winter."
"Well yes, right, the earth is movin and spinnin, but the wagon would be sittin in the same place," explained the teamster again.
The boy sighed. He didn't seem to be explaining himself right. "But sir, it isn't actually sitting in the same place is it. Cause for it to be sitting in exactly the same spot it would have to stop moving. But it can't do that in a wagon, or sitting on the ground, cause the ground is moving."
Fully fed up with the boy, and thinking to himself that he should have charged for this trip instead of taking it on as a favor to his old friend the miller, he replied, "I think I've had enough of your fool notions boy. We should just continue on as we had until we reach town where you can go spout your crazy ideas to some other poor man."
The boy shrugged, used to being talked to like that. It didn't bother him that people thought him strange. In truth, he though himself a little strange, because no one else seemed to be like him. Though he did begin to look at the trees. In fact, he watched them all the way into the village, where he and the teamster parted way's. The teamster to drown his sorrows at the tavern, mumbling about sitting things and moving things, and the boy to get a good nights rest before making the rest of his trip to the city.
The teamster who was taking the boy part way to the city was only planning on a three day journey to a nearby town where he would sell his fair and return. He was an old teamster, used to long, silent trips, but was not unlikable. He could have a fine conversation with young children, having a few himself. However, he knew of the strange boy, and knew that he could be left well enough on his own, so the first day of the journey passed in silence, save a smattering of instructions when it came time to bed down for the night. The sun rose on the second day with a likewise short conversation as they headed onward. The second day passed much like the first, though the teamster noticed the boy paying quite close attention to the scenery and the wagon. Often alternating his view between the two.
On the third day, the teamster tried to engage the boy in conversation. It began something like this:
"So boy, what do you think a' life outside the town?" asked the teamster.
"Hmm...?" replied the boy.
"I asked, 'what do you think a' life outside the town?'"
"Oh, it's nice enough. Pretty much all the same so far though isn't it?" queried the child.
"Oh I suppose," countered the teamster. "Though, it's gettin warmer as we leave the shadow o' the mountain. There's a big ol river that we'll be driving over soon, bigger n' the one at home. An there are diffren types a' trees. That one there," he said pointing to a stump of a tree, "is called a Birch."
"Huh," replied the boy, "I hadn't really thought about the trees yet."
"Adn't thought about the trees? What have you been starin at this whole time then boy?" the teamster demanded a little affronted that the facts about his track had been ignored.
"Well sir, I've been staring at the country side going by," the boy replied, quite unperturbed.
"Tat's what I was just tellin you about!" now fully upset at the daftness of the boy.
"I know sir, but is it really moving by us?"
"What are you talkin about, of course it isn't movin by US. We're in a wagon, we're goin by it," replied the now baffled and annoyed teamster.
"I get that sir, but here," the boy pulls an apple his mother packed for him to eat and places it on the bench between them. "Is this apple moving?" he asks.
"No ya daft fool, its sittin right there."
"But we're moving, in the wagon" explained the boy.
"Well yeah," replied the teamster, now just baffled. "The wagon is movin, but us an the apple, we're just sittin here."
"Moving with the wagon," prompted the boy.
"Yes," the teamster posited.
"Okay sir, but supposed the wagon, and us, and the apple, we all stopped moving, would we stay in the same place?"
"Okay, now your just bein ridiculous boy. The wagon here is movin, with us and the apple here, and we three are just sittin. If we stopped movin, we'd stop goin forward, so we'd stay in the same spot."
"But sir, in school they taught us that all the times, the ground we're standing on is spinning around in space like a top, and while its spinning, it's moving around the sun. That's why we get day and night and summer and winter."
"Well yes, right, the earth is movin and spinnin, but the wagon would be sittin in the same place," explained the teamster again.
The boy sighed. He didn't seem to be explaining himself right. "But sir, it isn't actually sitting in the same place is it. Cause for it to be sitting in exactly the same spot it would have to stop moving. But it can't do that in a wagon, or sitting on the ground, cause the ground is moving."
Fully fed up with the boy, and thinking to himself that he should have charged for this trip instead of taking it on as a favor to his old friend the miller, he replied, "I think I've had enough of your fool notions boy. We should just continue on as we had until we reach town where you can go spout your crazy ideas to some other poor man."
The boy shrugged, used to being talked to like that. It didn't bother him that people thought him strange. In truth, he though himself a little strange, because no one else seemed to be like him. Though he did begin to look at the trees. In fact, he watched them all the way into the village, where he and the teamster parted way's. The teamster to drown his sorrows at the tavern, mumbling about sitting things and moving things, and the boy to get a good nights rest before making the rest of his trip to the city.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Cognative Dissonance in Politics
How the human mind misleads itself within the political spectrum.
I've been reading a lot about the current "Occupy" movements going on around the globe, and there seem to be several repeating themes.
-No one "knows" what the protests are about.
-The continuing right versus left debate, who messed up more.
- What is lawful.
- And, the (non)importance of accountability
These aren't just themes touted by FOX news and the right wing media, but every news article revolving around the issue. There are viewed from one side or the other, occasionally taking the good argumentative approach of pointing out flaws in the other arguments points. However, the art of debate has devolved, in almost all sectors of the practice, from a clear construction of evidence, counter-evidence and rebuttal, into a moral high ground issue. You don't get people rationally analyzing evidence, and fitting it into their argument. In essence, no one changes their mind based on these discussions. There are many different psychological reasons which explain this.
The first is a classical physiological affliction which plagues everyone, Loss Aversion. Normally, this applies to goods or money, but it can also apply to self worth. Loss Aversion is typified by an inability to compromise a situation allowing a reduction in overall worth. When in an argument, if you admit you're wrong, it is mentally equated with lower self worth, so the mind shies away from the possibility. Instead of opening up to the possibility that an error was made, thereby lowering self worth, our minds rationalize the evidenciary input.
The second is Information Asymmetry. We empirically trust people who have more experience or information about a topic. These experts, whether they are real estate agents, stock brokers or economists, all have a greater understanding of their field than we do. So again, we rationalize that their authority lends them trustworthiness.
Tied closely with the second aspect is the Fundamental Attribution Error (FAE). We create categories of people quickly, based on very little outside evidence, to make it easier for our brains to remember them. These classifications, of which there are many, create a sort of cognitive map on our brains, where a person, say Barack Obama, is linked with various characteristics observed.
Fourth, is the process of Cognitive Dissonance. The act of holding two conflicting notions in ones psyche at one time. This is what often gives rise to hypocrisy, which we see so much of in our political spectrum as to jade and cynicize the teenagers of our culture.
The most commonly held protest to the protests is that we "don't know what its about". You will read a lot of people saying it is about one thing, or conversely it's about many things. The main stream media derides the protesters for not having any centralized goal. Likewise the protesters object to the medias' inability to qualify their message. In case of the MSM, they are suffering from FAE. The see a group of people with no one major goal, and immediately label it sloppy and ineffective. Its quick, its easy, and it lets them move on. Likewise, protesters see the inability of the media to provide information in a coherent manner that they are used to seeing, and label them stupid and biased. There is also rampant Information Asymmetry. The protesters are in the thick of it, talking to one another, spending literally weeks and months learning everything they can about the topics fro experts and research. That's a huge amount of raw information. The media, on the other hand, gets their information from both sides of the debate, but in disproportionate quantities. Short interviews with protesters, which encapsulate perhaps reasons or grievances, and expert testimony from people directly invested in keeping things the way they are.
Then we have the "Left vs. Right" epic battle. Neither side wants to admit that they might have messed anything up, because that would mean two things. First, it would be a blatant implication that they were wrong, which includes the tacit implication that they could be wrong again. This is both a loss aversion problem and a FAE. They don't want to admit fault because it would lower their political worth to their constituents, which would consequently lower their own self image since they are directly linked within the mind of any politician. And there is the idea that if a person admits fault, it opens them up for further error. This is ridiculous because we all know that defying reality doesn't change it, it just makes you look stupid.
Following closely on its heels we have the "Lawful" debate. Who broke what law, why and how. There are clear examples of Cognitive Dissonance all over this one. Per the supreme court ruling against Citizens United, corporations are people and have full access to first amendments rights. This sets obvious precedent for corporations to be tried as people for crimes they commit. But no, we have to figure out what people within the corporation (person) committed what wrong? What, no...? If corporations are 'people' with 'rights' then they are 'people' with obligations, and responsibilities. Cake-and-eating-it. We are also in a sea of information regarding that. What companies did what, how it effected the economy, what is legal, are there statutes of limitations? These questions and their answers are abundant.
Finally there is the issue of accountability. This is a mess of all the previous mentioned psychological pitfalls, and is closely tied with the ideas behind what is considered lawful for the newest citizens of the U.S. The companies that played the biggest roles in the mortgage bubble, who lost the most, don't want to admit that it was a loss, because it would lower expectations and investor dollars. Enter our friend cognitive dissonance hand in hand with FAE, because those are exactly the criterion that investors look at, ability to make sound business choices, not screw up catastrophically and preform successful damage control when something does go wrong. If a small mom-and-pop shop opened next to a Wal-Mart, no one would be surprised when they went belly up. Banks wouldn't give them loans, because its a bad idea. Why should we reward even bigger bad ideas? Then we get lost in a sea of information again. Because there are economic experts who tell us that everything is returning to normal, and this was to be expected, (which is surprising to me, because during the bubble no one expected this). Should we really trust not only the same people who got us into this mess to get us out of it, people with an obvious incentive to lie, distort the truth, or mislead us with statistics?
Now however, I will get to the real issue. I don't really care how "Lawful" any of this was. I don't care about petty politicians three years of impression management, one year of policy making. I don't even care about who messed up what when. I care about the question which people keep ducking, avoiding its slippery slopes because its easier to take the paved path of the law. The Morality behind all this. Is it morally right to let banks and corporations control our politicians through massive anonymous campaign donations? Is it right to reduce our debt by trying to cut taxes to encourage investing in the nation? Is it right for us to cut health care benefits to the lower and middle class?
We don't have any legal obligation to give a crap about people dying of treatable conditions because they cannot afford hospital bills. They can't afford the hospital bills because their unemployed, but we don't have any legal reason to make sure that they have work so they can feed, cloth and shelter their families. If they have work and can do those things, we don't have any legal reason to make sure that they can continue to do so if their company moves its' services or production overseas because it cuts their costs. There is absolutely no reason our government has to do any of this.
But what about us. Is our social apathy so great that we can conceptualize leaving people to freeze or starve to death during the winter? It's reached the point where this is a reality, and we have to face it. Our nation has degenerated to the point where our citizens are being forced to make rational choices over whether its more important to feed their three children, and let one die of a treatable condition, or treat it and let the rest starve. In terms of utility functions the choice is clear, feed the three, hell, feed just the healthy ones because the sick one reduces the other childrens' chances of survival. Issues that we haven't had to deal with since the dark ages are creeping back into our lives. Our fore fathers crafted this nation, fighting usurious taxes placed upon them by a distant, unknowing government which they had no direct access to. They were forced into a economic corner, supplying raw materials to manufactures overseas and being forced to buy back the manufactured goods at high prices. They had to house and feed soldiers fighting wars in someone elses' name, for someone elses' agenda.
Any of this sound familar?
I've been reading a lot about the current "Occupy" movements going on around the globe, and there seem to be several repeating themes.
-No one "knows" what the protests are about.
-The continuing right versus left debate, who messed up more.
- What is lawful.
- And, the (non)importance of accountability
These aren't just themes touted by FOX news and the right wing media, but every news article revolving around the issue. There are viewed from one side or the other, occasionally taking the good argumentative approach of pointing out flaws in the other arguments points. However, the art of debate has devolved, in almost all sectors of the practice, from a clear construction of evidence, counter-evidence and rebuttal, into a moral high ground issue. You don't get people rationally analyzing evidence, and fitting it into their argument. In essence, no one changes their mind based on these discussions. There are many different psychological reasons which explain this.
The first is a classical physiological affliction which plagues everyone, Loss Aversion. Normally, this applies to goods or money, but it can also apply to self worth. Loss Aversion is typified by an inability to compromise a situation allowing a reduction in overall worth. When in an argument, if you admit you're wrong, it is mentally equated with lower self worth, so the mind shies away from the possibility. Instead of opening up to the possibility that an error was made, thereby lowering self worth, our minds rationalize the evidenciary input.
The second is Information Asymmetry. We empirically trust people who have more experience or information about a topic. These experts, whether they are real estate agents, stock brokers or economists, all have a greater understanding of their field than we do. So again, we rationalize that their authority lends them trustworthiness.
Tied closely with the second aspect is the Fundamental Attribution Error (FAE). We create categories of people quickly, based on very little outside evidence, to make it easier for our brains to remember them. These classifications, of which there are many, create a sort of cognitive map on our brains, where a person, say Barack Obama, is linked with various characteristics observed.
Fourth, is the process of Cognitive Dissonance. The act of holding two conflicting notions in ones psyche at one time. This is what often gives rise to hypocrisy, which we see so much of in our political spectrum as to jade and cynicize the teenagers of our culture.
The most commonly held protest to the protests is that we "don't know what its about". You will read a lot of people saying it is about one thing, or conversely it's about many things. The main stream media derides the protesters for not having any centralized goal. Likewise the protesters object to the medias' inability to qualify their message. In case of the MSM, they are suffering from FAE. The see a group of people with no one major goal, and immediately label it sloppy and ineffective. Its quick, its easy, and it lets them move on. Likewise, protesters see the inability of the media to provide information in a coherent manner that they are used to seeing, and label them stupid and biased. There is also rampant Information Asymmetry. The protesters are in the thick of it, talking to one another, spending literally weeks and months learning everything they can about the topics fro experts and research. That's a huge amount of raw information. The media, on the other hand, gets their information from both sides of the debate, but in disproportionate quantities. Short interviews with protesters, which encapsulate perhaps reasons or grievances, and expert testimony from people directly invested in keeping things the way they are.
Then we have the "Left vs. Right" epic battle. Neither side wants to admit that they might have messed anything up, because that would mean two things. First, it would be a blatant implication that they were wrong, which includes the tacit implication that they could be wrong again. This is both a loss aversion problem and a FAE. They don't want to admit fault because it would lower their political worth to their constituents, which would consequently lower their own self image since they are directly linked within the mind of any politician. And there is the idea that if a person admits fault, it opens them up for further error. This is ridiculous because we all know that defying reality doesn't change it, it just makes you look stupid.
Following closely on its heels we have the "Lawful" debate. Who broke what law, why and how. There are clear examples of Cognitive Dissonance all over this one. Per the supreme court ruling against Citizens United, corporations are people and have full access to first amendments rights. This sets obvious precedent for corporations to be tried as people for crimes they commit. But no, we have to figure out what people within the corporation (person) committed what wrong? What, no...? If corporations are 'people' with 'rights' then they are 'people' with obligations, and responsibilities. Cake-and-eating-it. We are also in a sea of information regarding that. What companies did what, how it effected the economy, what is legal, are there statutes of limitations? These questions and their answers are abundant.
Finally there is the issue of accountability. This is a mess of all the previous mentioned psychological pitfalls, and is closely tied with the ideas behind what is considered lawful for the newest citizens of the U.S. The companies that played the biggest roles in the mortgage bubble, who lost the most, don't want to admit that it was a loss, because it would lower expectations and investor dollars. Enter our friend cognitive dissonance hand in hand with FAE, because those are exactly the criterion that investors look at, ability to make sound business choices, not screw up catastrophically and preform successful damage control when something does go wrong. If a small mom-and-pop shop opened next to a Wal-Mart, no one would be surprised when they went belly up. Banks wouldn't give them loans, because its a bad idea. Why should we reward even bigger bad ideas? Then we get lost in a sea of information again. Because there are economic experts who tell us that everything is returning to normal, and this was to be expected, (which is surprising to me, because during the bubble no one expected this). Should we really trust not only the same people who got us into this mess to get us out of it, people with an obvious incentive to lie, distort the truth, or mislead us with statistics?
Now however, I will get to the real issue. I don't really care how "Lawful" any of this was. I don't care about petty politicians three years of impression management, one year of policy making. I don't even care about who messed up what when. I care about the question which people keep ducking, avoiding its slippery slopes because its easier to take the paved path of the law. The Morality behind all this. Is it morally right to let banks and corporations control our politicians through massive anonymous campaign donations? Is it right to reduce our debt by trying to cut taxes to encourage investing in the nation? Is it right for us to cut health care benefits to the lower and middle class?
We don't have any legal obligation to give a crap about people dying of treatable conditions because they cannot afford hospital bills. They can't afford the hospital bills because their unemployed, but we don't have any legal reason to make sure that they have work so they can feed, cloth and shelter their families. If they have work and can do those things, we don't have any legal reason to make sure that they can continue to do so if their company moves its' services or production overseas because it cuts their costs. There is absolutely no reason our government has to do any of this.
But what about us. Is our social apathy so great that we can conceptualize leaving people to freeze or starve to death during the winter? It's reached the point where this is a reality, and we have to face it. Our nation has degenerated to the point where our citizens are being forced to make rational choices over whether its more important to feed their three children, and let one die of a treatable condition, or treat it and let the rest starve. In terms of utility functions the choice is clear, feed the three, hell, feed just the healthy ones because the sick one reduces the other childrens' chances of survival. Issues that we haven't had to deal with since the dark ages are creeping back into our lives. Our fore fathers crafted this nation, fighting usurious taxes placed upon them by a distant, unknowing government which they had no direct access to. They were forced into a economic corner, supplying raw materials to manufactures overseas and being forced to buy back the manufactured goods at high prices. They had to house and feed soldiers fighting wars in someone elses' name, for someone elses' agenda.
Any of this sound familar?
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Things I've Figured Out
Trees:
There is an interesting phenomenon in trees. Their branches angle changes relative to the height on the bole. The higher branches, nearer to the top, are angles upward, and the farther you move down the angle also trends downward. Once you reach the base, the branches are angles downward. I have guessed that this has a two fold benefit to the tree itself. The higher branches are angled for two reasons. The first is to leave room for sunlight to reach the lower branches, but the second is so that any rain water caught by the upper boughs, will be funneled along the branches, and down the trunk to the roots. The lower branches are angled downward, so that excess rain water is diffused, both to protect the tree itself, but also to aid its offspring. Those seeds truly do not fall far from the tree, and they would have a harder time getting water if all of the branches were at an angle to funnel watter to the main trees roots. This means that a forest is both competing and cooperative simultaneously. They compete for resources, and any tree that cannot, will not live to reproduce. But any tree that DOES live to reproduce, has to be fit enough to care for itself AND its offspring.
Pigeons:
Living in the city, there are a lot of them flying around. Subways, buildings, parks, anywhere you go has them. Best way to find them, throw some bread on the floor, they will come from everywhere. You wont even see where they came from, but they will come. This is probably due to a collective survival ability. The closest ones come to get food, but they are being observed by a group farther off, who come to investigate. And so on, until it becomes an issue of risk over reward. The distance traveled doesn't add to the reward gained or energy expended to get that last scrap of food, (unless you have a bread truck). This may mean that they have slightly more complex reasoning and navigation abilities than we generally attribute to them.
A second problem we have is deciding where to stand outside. All city dwellers are aware that scaffolding, buildings, and outdoor train stations are rife with hazards. But one thing I've noticed, is the trees. I have never witnessed them perch on the trees, they prefer stationary perches. Have pigeons evolved to the point where they are incapable of adjusting their balance on a moving perch? This would require the physical shape and use of their inner ear system to change, and it seems unlikely as they can still fly. Though I'm not sure about the documentation of pigeon flight distances, they are non-migratory, so it is possible that their ear was forced to change because of some factor relative to living in a city. This change must have allowed the birds to live and procreate in the city, but robbed them of longer distance flight, and some balance.
Psychology:
The psychoanalytic theory is something which I have written about before. Previously I stated it seemed flawed to me, as the base assumption was that subconscious motives are suppressed by society, and I could not figure out how a humans could evolve with that trait to be fitted into a society. The answer is simple actually. Lying is the cause. People evolved the ability of lying, of misrepresenting reality, in order to hide their motives, or gain the upper hand against a competitor. The reason that 'societies' of varying cultural background don't show evidence of different levels of subconscious repression is that the advent of lying predates society. So society came built in with all of people foibles and abilities, lying being one of them. This causes people in the society, who are statistical outliers but would otherwise (outside of organized society) be within the norm, to become better liar's, hiding more and more of their views, desires, ability's and possessions. This in turn became part of the social contract, which has no written record though is socialized into everyone. Keep the things which are unacceptable to society to yourself, and you can stay a member. This in turn causes internal conflict, which over generations of socialization, and breeding better liar's, causes repression and subconscious motives to emerge. So really, its our own fault we have politicians.
There is an interesting phenomenon in trees. Their branches angle changes relative to the height on the bole. The higher branches, nearer to the top, are angles upward, and the farther you move down the angle also trends downward. Once you reach the base, the branches are angles downward. I have guessed that this has a two fold benefit to the tree itself. The higher branches are angled for two reasons. The first is to leave room for sunlight to reach the lower branches, but the second is so that any rain water caught by the upper boughs, will be funneled along the branches, and down the trunk to the roots. The lower branches are angled downward, so that excess rain water is diffused, both to protect the tree itself, but also to aid its offspring. Those seeds truly do not fall far from the tree, and they would have a harder time getting water if all of the branches were at an angle to funnel watter to the main trees roots. This means that a forest is both competing and cooperative simultaneously. They compete for resources, and any tree that cannot, will not live to reproduce. But any tree that DOES live to reproduce, has to be fit enough to care for itself AND its offspring.
Pigeons:
Living in the city, there are a lot of them flying around. Subways, buildings, parks, anywhere you go has them. Best way to find them, throw some bread on the floor, they will come from everywhere. You wont even see where they came from, but they will come. This is probably due to a collective survival ability. The closest ones come to get food, but they are being observed by a group farther off, who come to investigate. And so on, until it becomes an issue of risk over reward. The distance traveled doesn't add to the reward gained or energy expended to get that last scrap of food, (unless you have a bread truck). This may mean that they have slightly more complex reasoning and navigation abilities than we generally attribute to them.
A second problem we have is deciding where to stand outside. All city dwellers are aware that scaffolding, buildings, and outdoor train stations are rife with hazards. But one thing I've noticed, is the trees. I have never witnessed them perch on the trees, they prefer stationary perches. Have pigeons evolved to the point where they are incapable of adjusting their balance on a moving perch? This would require the physical shape and use of their inner ear system to change, and it seems unlikely as they can still fly. Though I'm not sure about the documentation of pigeon flight distances, they are non-migratory, so it is possible that their ear was forced to change because of some factor relative to living in a city. This change must have allowed the birds to live and procreate in the city, but robbed them of longer distance flight, and some balance.
Psychology:
The psychoanalytic theory is something which I have written about before. Previously I stated it seemed flawed to me, as the base assumption was that subconscious motives are suppressed by society, and I could not figure out how a humans could evolve with that trait to be fitted into a society. The answer is simple actually. Lying is the cause. People evolved the ability of lying, of misrepresenting reality, in order to hide their motives, or gain the upper hand against a competitor. The reason that 'societies' of varying cultural background don't show evidence of different levels of subconscious repression is that the advent of lying predates society. So society came built in with all of people foibles and abilities, lying being one of them. This causes people in the society, who are statistical outliers but would otherwise (outside of organized society) be within the norm, to become better liar's, hiding more and more of their views, desires, ability's and possessions. This in turn became part of the social contract, which has no written record though is socialized into everyone. Keep the things which are unacceptable to society to yourself, and you can stay a member. This in turn causes internal conflict, which over generations of socialization, and breeding better liar's, causes repression and subconscious motives to emerge. So really, its our own fault we have politicians.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Hidden Monuments
In Ireland, in the county of Clare, in the small town of Carron within the heart of the Burren rests, in the shade of some plants to short to be called trees and to tall to be called shrubs, rests a hidden place. This shady area is behind the hostel, close to a cow pasture. There are no paths in it but those made by the trees and animals who live there. It is completely unremarkable in almost every way. It is home to many small monuments, made by people, eager to leave their mark on this small piece of land. Simple stacks of rock, miniature cairn's or recreations of Stonehenge.
There is one in particular, made by a young man. He made it to honor someone he knew, in the hopes that this small deed would bring a piece of them to the land, and communicate its beauty and serenity to them across the vast distances of the ocean. They could not be with him in any way but thought and heart, so he created something for them there. It is constructed of the rocky shale common to the area. The base is a tripod of these rocks standing supporting one another, while another larger flat rock sits atop. Two more rest on this, forming a point. It, like the place, is unremarkable, and only this young man would be able to tell you why its there.
How many other places in the world have the hidden markings of people. Not the statues or pillars that typify memories laid down in metal and stone. The great hulking constructions made to enforce remembrance. The small ones, with no plaque or historian to tell you its' meaning. They were put there for one person, a symbol of something only they felt in that time and place. Are there small markers like these in every forest, every place where humanity hasn't encroached fully? Does every person have a place to go, where they have inscribed arcane runes of an indecipherable nature or created a masterpiece of their heart for no other reason than to have a secret in the land? I think people do, and it isn't a footprint in the sand, saying MAN was here. Its our desire to have a secret, a piece of solitude that only we know about, and can never be elucidated by another person. A private section of the world, devoted to our individual peace and tranquility.
There is one in particular, made by a young man. He made it to honor someone he knew, in the hopes that this small deed would bring a piece of them to the land, and communicate its beauty and serenity to them across the vast distances of the ocean. They could not be with him in any way but thought and heart, so he created something for them there. It is constructed of the rocky shale common to the area. The base is a tripod of these rocks standing supporting one another, while another larger flat rock sits atop. Two more rest on this, forming a point. It, like the place, is unremarkable, and only this young man would be able to tell you why its there.
How many other places in the world have the hidden markings of people. Not the statues or pillars that typify memories laid down in metal and stone. The great hulking constructions made to enforce remembrance. The small ones, with no plaque or historian to tell you its' meaning. They were put there for one person, a symbol of something only they felt in that time and place. Are there small markers like these in every forest, every place where humanity hasn't encroached fully? Does every person have a place to go, where they have inscribed arcane runes of an indecipherable nature or created a masterpiece of their heart for no other reason than to have a secret in the land? I think people do, and it isn't a footprint in the sand, saying MAN was here. Its our desire to have a secret, a piece of solitude that only we know about, and can never be elucidated by another person. A private section of the world, devoted to our individual peace and tranquility.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Magical Intellect
"Why are you so smart?" I've heard people ask. Time and again, pepole demand to know the secret of beign smart. What makes an individual intellegent? Some people think some are born smart. Others say its hard work and dedication to learning. But everywhere I go, a common theme among those that ask the question, with wonder and mystery in their voices, is that being exceptionally intellegent is like magic. they treat it as an otherworldy power. As if there is a machine that hooks up to your brain and downloads information to it. To see and think beyond the given front, extrapolate extra information and tease out hidden implications out of data is something akin to a paranormal feat.
You can hear the same tone of voice in spectators at a magic show, or people watching for UFO's. Intellegence is alien to these people. Why is it that the process of becoming smart is seemingly linked to the unknowable or unacheivable? I have encountered people with mental abilities that I simply don't have, musicians, sports fans, chess players. All these people can do things that are near impossible for me, but it isn't unfathomable that they CAN do them, or how. They hear, see or think about the world in different ways from myself. They grew up valuing different kinds of information, filled in gaps in the world using that information in a differenc capacity from me.
Its a problem of our culture that being smart is anathama. We all know about the nerds bullied by the jocks, but its more than that. People are taught that if they aren't smart, that they won't be smart. The idea that there will always be sopmeone better than you has been perverted to mean something different than originally intended. It doens't mean not trying, or allowing yourself to be overtaken by other intellectuals. It means that there will always be someone you can turn to for help, and can help in turn. That learning is a cooperative experience, and you will always have something to offer.
And to answer the question that everyone contiually asks. What makes someone smart? It isn't genetics, or dilligence, or even books that hold the secret. Its contiually asking questions. You have to ask questions to get answers, and with enough parctice, you learn just the right question to ask. You can shape the problem your trying to solve around what you know, frame the question to yourself in a way that calls on all you know about the world. The better you become at asking questions, the easier it becomes to answer them, the more you learn. Its a cycle that is simple to perpetuate within yourself, but difficult to begin.
You can hear the same tone of voice in spectators at a magic show, or people watching for UFO's. Intellegence is alien to these people. Why is it that the process of becoming smart is seemingly linked to the unknowable or unacheivable? I have encountered people with mental abilities that I simply don't have, musicians, sports fans, chess players. All these people can do things that are near impossible for me, but it isn't unfathomable that they CAN do them, or how. They hear, see or think about the world in different ways from myself. They grew up valuing different kinds of information, filled in gaps in the world using that information in a differenc capacity from me.
Its a problem of our culture that being smart is anathama. We all know about the nerds bullied by the jocks, but its more than that. People are taught that if they aren't smart, that they won't be smart. The idea that there will always be sopmeone better than you has been perverted to mean something different than originally intended. It doens't mean not trying, or allowing yourself to be overtaken by other intellectuals. It means that there will always be someone you can turn to for help, and can help in turn. That learning is a cooperative experience, and you will always have something to offer.
And to answer the question that everyone contiually asks. What makes someone smart? It isn't genetics, or dilligence, or even books that hold the secret. Its contiually asking questions. You have to ask questions to get answers, and with enough parctice, you learn just the right question to ask. You can shape the problem your trying to solve around what you know, frame the question to yourself in a way that calls on all you know about the world. The better you become at asking questions, the easier it becomes to answer them, the more you learn. Its a cycle that is simple to perpetuate within yourself, but difficult to begin.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Fiction
In a valley, which rests at the bottom of a modest mountain, there was a village. It wasn't a place of magic. It didn't spawn legacies of heroes. It was not the seat of a great crime empire. It didn't even have vast mines or wealth. It was wholly unremarkable in every way. The people who lived there didn't think this, but ask anyone else and they'll tell you its not important. That is if they've ever heard of it.
The people who lived in this village however, knew that it was a place of magic. That heroes did live among them. And it was a wealthy place. Their children born every year, who grew up battling monsters, showed the adults the magic of their imaginations. The miller who single handed saved the village from starving by sharing his grain was one of their heroes. Or the silversmith who made the beautiful rings for handfastings at no profit to himself, just because he loved love. Their village was filled with people who knew and cared for each other.
One day, a child was born who was unlike any other child. His parents were just like the other villagers, and they loved their boy. They were no better off or worse than any other. He did not possess amazing gifts, could not conjure fire or float things with his mind. He was different, because he was bored. The monsters and villains the other children summoned for play did nothing to amuse him. So he grew up mostly alone, occasionally trying to play with the other children, but to naught. His parents figured that he was either a little simple or he would grow out of it.
The time of apprenticeship came and the boy could not decide what he wanted to learn. It was traditional for children to apprentice with their fathers, but some had in the past taken other paths. At a young age, the boy confessed to his father that he though the profession of a miller, which his father was, was boring, and his father wouldn't subject his son to that. He didn't have the temperament to stay in one place for very long, so most of the other apprenticeships were out as well. In fact, it only left the trappers, and they all said he was to loud to be any good.
Luckily, the boys family had a feeling something like this was going to happen. So, with much reluctance and shame, they gave the boy, still young though old enough to start out on his own, some money they had saved, a good pair of boots, and directions to the city. They hopped the sites and sounds would keep him entertained even as he found work. So they found him a teamster who was driving part of the way there, placed him on the wagon, and said goodbye.
The people who lived in this village however, knew that it was a place of magic. That heroes did live among them. And it was a wealthy place. Their children born every year, who grew up battling monsters, showed the adults the magic of their imaginations. The miller who single handed saved the village from starving by sharing his grain was one of their heroes. Or the silversmith who made the beautiful rings for handfastings at no profit to himself, just because he loved love. Their village was filled with people who knew and cared for each other.
One day, a child was born who was unlike any other child. His parents were just like the other villagers, and they loved their boy. They were no better off or worse than any other. He did not possess amazing gifts, could not conjure fire or float things with his mind. He was different, because he was bored. The monsters and villains the other children summoned for play did nothing to amuse him. So he grew up mostly alone, occasionally trying to play with the other children, but to naught. His parents figured that he was either a little simple or he would grow out of it.
The time of apprenticeship came and the boy could not decide what he wanted to learn. It was traditional for children to apprentice with their fathers, but some had in the past taken other paths. At a young age, the boy confessed to his father that he though the profession of a miller, which his father was, was boring, and his father wouldn't subject his son to that. He didn't have the temperament to stay in one place for very long, so most of the other apprenticeships were out as well. In fact, it only left the trappers, and they all said he was to loud to be any good.
Luckily, the boys family had a feeling something like this was going to happen. So, with much reluctance and shame, they gave the boy, still young though old enough to start out on his own, some money they had saved, a good pair of boots, and directions to the city. They hopped the sites and sounds would keep him entertained even as he found work. So they found him a teamster who was driving part of the way there, placed him on the wagon, and said goodbye.
Friday, August 19, 2011
They have pills for that now you know?
There is something about madness, insanity, crazy-people what have you, that is practically endearing to us as people. There are characters who are so crazy, they know they're insane. Their own mental instability pains them, drives them to hold on to anything that makes them seem normal. It makes the heart weep to know that they will never be healed, there is just a recursive spiral of hope and failure. They want to be right and good, but they cannot for the life of them manage it. The schizophrenic who exiles themselves, or multiple personalities that are barley contained. Or what of the one who wears their instability like a cloak, wrapped up and safe in madness, giggling and running towards the darkness. They know they go the wrong way, but it is their right way. The ones who delight in the new bazaar worlds you can see within. There is almost a magic in being able to embrace it, to see beyond to real world to the imagined and the hidden. There is even an idea, of a person who is so sane, they are crazy. Their grip on reality is so tight and unyielding that they break it into tiny fragments that can be recognized as sanity, but will never be reassembled.
Insanity. It's a well documented disease stemming from a variety of chemical imbalances, brain damage, or psychological imbalances. But it's almost as if its catching. Everyone, at one time or another, has thought to themselves, "I must be crazy." I personally prefer to be described as mad. It's said that the people who don't question their sanity are the truly crazy, but I disagree. I think everyone is crazy, you'd have to be to put up with some of the shit we do. I think the people who are to afraid to admit their imbalance are the dangerous ones, because they only grasp at the veneer of sanity and rationality without actually looking close enough to see the flaws.
I have often times toyed with loosening the hold that reality has on my mind. By depriving my mind of sleep, I am able to change everything about me, simply by changing how I perceive the world. I find it exhilarating to look out at the world from my own eyes and see something completely different and alien. People pass by as shapes of consciousness, with effable goals and drives. Trees become magical fractal constructs of life and creation. Birds fucking FLY! There are magical things and mysteries under every rock and within every bole. The world's majesty is there for us to but open our eyes. And while our eyes are surely open, and we see and navigate its tremulous corridors, we do not peek in the alcoves at its hidden arts, to busy are we at rushing through it. We run, blind to the wonders it holds, just hoping that it wont all collapse on us before we get to the end. But the end, is it. So stay a while and listen to the music the reverberations play, and watch how the birds fly. Maybe at the end of the day, we'll actually see all the real worlds.
Insanity. It's a well documented disease stemming from a variety of chemical imbalances, brain damage, or psychological imbalances. But it's almost as if its catching. Everyone, at one time or another, has thought to themselves, "I must be crazy." I personally prefer to be described as mad. It's said that the people who don't question their sanity are the truly crazy, but I disagree. I think everyone is crazy, you'd have to be to put up with some of the shit we do. I think the people who are to afraid to admit their imbalance are the dangerous ones, because they only grasp at the veneer of sanity and rationality without actually looking close enough to see the flaws.
I have often times toyed with loosening the hold that reality has on my mind. By depriving my mind of sleep, I am able to change everything about me, simply by changing how I perceive the world. I find it exhilarating to look out at the world from my own eyes and see something completely different and alien. People pass by as shapes of consciousness, with effable goals and drives. Trees become magical fractal constructs of life and creation. Birds fucking FLY! There are magical things and mysteries under every rock and within every bole. The world's majesty is there for us to but open our eyes. And while our eyes are surely open, and we see and navigate its tremulous corridors, we do not peek in the alcoves at its hidden arts, to busy are we at rushing through it. We run, blind to the wonders it holds, just hoping that it wont all collapse on us before we get to the end. But the end, is it. So stay a while and listen to the music the reverberations play, and watch how the birds fly. Maybe at the end of the day, we'll actually see all the real worlds.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Being Human
Sometimes, figuring out how we relate to other people is difficult. We're surrounded by other people day in and out, through the magic of the Internet, our phones, even just walking out the door, we're buffeted by the morass of humanity. Socialization is truly a process that continues until death, as we have all encountered those times where we have no idea what to say or do. Another person comes, beseeching something from us; using the multi-variate tools of communication, double or triple meanings, body language, gestures and facial expressions, but never out right saying what it is that they might want. It's as if expressing it steals something from the game. We as the receiver have to guess correctly, because being given the answer cheapens the experience on both ends somehow.
We've all seen the games played. In the eyes of lovers searching your face, hoping to convey just what they are hoping for, or friends asking for help by pushing away or acting strong, but never actually asking. Its painful because you know that there is something that you can say, a panacea to assuage their grief or heartache, but it is beyond your ken at the moment. I've even seen it in reverse. The most horrible person, able to show love and kindness to a small child, to take away anothers' hurt. Con men use it all the time, their words hiding the guilt and evil, until the moment your grandmother gives them her social security number. These things aren't outside our realm of imagining, because they happen in and around us daily.
Sometimes, I equate existence to a never ending struggle to figure out my own niche. An experience that is both interwoven into the tapestry of humanity, while simultaneously being cut apart. Sometimes you know just what to say, and the people will love you. Other times you know the things NOT to say, and manage to muddle your way through the rest. Rarely, you think that you know the password to anothers' heart, but it actually locks you out forever. I think these are some of the most confusing moments, when you know there is something riding on it, celestial betting is heavy on the outcome, and you feel the pressure of the odds at your back. You take that deep breath and blow on the proverbial dice of your words, but once they're gone, you can see it's gonna land snake eyes.
We've all seen the games played. In the eyes of lovers searching your face, hoping to convey just what they are hoping for, or friends asking for help by pushing away or acting strong, but never actually asking. Its painful because you know that there is something that you can say, a panacea to assuage their grief or heartache, but it is beyond your ken at the moment. I've even seen it in reverse. The most horrible person, able to show love and kindness to a small child, to take away anothers' hurt. Con men use it all the time, their words hiding the guilt and evil, until the moment your grandmother gives them her social security number. These things aren't outside our realm of imagining, because they happen in and around us daily.
Sometimes, I equate existence to a never ending struggle to figure out my own niche. An experience that is both interwoven into the tapestry of humanity, while simultaneously being cut apart. Sometimes you know just what to say, and the people will love you. Other times you know the things NOT to say, and manage to muddle your way through the rest. Rarely, you think that you know the password to anothers' heart, but it actually locks you out forever. I think these are some of the most confusing moments, when you know there is something riding on it, celestial betting is heavy on the outcome, and you feel the pressure of the odds at your back. You take that deep breath and blow on the proverbial dice of your words, but once they're gone, you can see it's gonna land snake eyes.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Pensic
I am "home" from my vacation. Though it isn't really coming home, its leaving home. SCAdians everywhere know what I'm talking about, but most mundane people won't get it. Just imagine a place so serenely beautiful and relaxing, inviting you through its gates with open arms and massive smiles. Everyone there, from the lowest commoner to the High Kings strive to their utmost to be paragons of honor and hospitality. But more than that, all the ancient gods, Jupiter, Hephaestus, Horus, Baste, Thor and Tyr permeate the very soil. I am driven to walk barefoot so the ground can work its into my feet, so that I can walk on Pensic ground well after its over.
About midway through the first week, I returned to camp after a poor night out. I was disheartened, and dwelt to much upon past misfortunes. I reached the common area of my camp, and found it empty, the fire pit filled with coals. I took a seat, lit a cigarette, and stared into the dying fire brooding. As some minutes passed, the dying fire lifted itself, and a new flame lept among the crushed remnants of the logs. The moon, waxing in the sky, was not yet full enough to give much light, so this new flame was startlingly bright. Fire is in many myths, a gift from gods to man, so I took this as an omen. On a dark night, a dying fire reached out for more fuel. It was Loki's hand if I ever saw. A bargain was struck, I fed the fire wood from the pile, and mead from my still full mug, and promised to seek mischief this Pensic, in return for respite and some happiness.
I preformed acts of guile for which I was neither caught nor punished, plotted future pranks, and minor evils, and dallied in dark corners. It was a good Pensic War. But it is over, and I am back to the realm of technology, and I find it hard to adjust to a world of shoes and shirts, pants and PDA's. I long to spend more time in the cool shade drinking mead, or walking barefoot amongst the merchants hawking their wares. I want every War to be better than the last, and I strive to be a better SCAdian for my clan and kingdom. It is odd to talk of fealty when I have none in my more conservative life, but it is a strong pull, and hard to ignore.
About midway through the first week, I returned to camp after a poor night out. I was disheartened, and dwelt to much upon past misfortunes. I reached the common area of my camp, and found it empty, the fire pit filled with coals. I took a seat, lit a cigarette, and stared into the dying fire brooding. As some minutes passed, the dying fire lifted itself, and a new flame lept among the crushed remnants of the logs. The moon, waxing in the sky, was not yet full enough to give much light, so this new flame was startlingly bright. Fire is in many myths, a gift from gods to man, so I took this as an omen. On a dark night, a dying fire reached out for more fuel. It was Loki's hand if I ever saw. A bargain was struck, I fed the fire wood from the pile, and mead from my still full mug, and promised to seek mischief this Pensic, in return for respite and some happiness.
I preformed acts of guile for which I was neither caught nor punished, plotted future pranks, and minor evils, and dallied in dark corners. It was a good Pensic War. But it is over, and I am back to the realm of technology, and I find it hard to adjust to a world of shoes and shirts, pants and PDA's. I long to spend more time in the cool shade drinking mead, or walking barefoot amongst the merchants hawking their wares. I want every War to be better than the last, and I strive to be a better SCAdian for my clan and kingdom. It is odd to talk of fealty when I have none in my more conservative life, but it is a strong pull, and hard to ignore.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Summer Time
It is summer. Summer is typified by laziness, excess, vacations and a time for relaxation. I have many things that I do during the summer, although "Do" implies some sort of meaning or purpose to these actions. Really, what I mean is they fill my time until something better comes along. As my chronological meter racks up the counters, I am beginning to find that these moment holders are less and less satisfying. Certainly they are useful for some minor recreation, but to waste hours and hours on them eats at the portion of my being that longs to create. I needs must find something productive that entertains.
It is within this time that I also read. I read quite frequently, but there are times when I experience a piece which is different. It is more than what I understand as writing. For me the experience isn't like reading, it is being let into a persons very existence. Their ability to communicate dwarfs mine own in such a profound way as to be beyond compare. But compare I do, and I'm filled with malaise. That there is a being in the world who possesses creative power on a plane that I cannot fathom has the power to disconnect me from the fields I do inhabit.
But in juxtaposition there are these empty chronological calories. I consume them and am bloated with them, but they do not fill me with meaning or substance. I desire more meaty means of defining myself and want no more of this black sweetness which I have inundated myself with. Despite my indolence, I want to strive onward to slimming my literary figure to a razor sharpness. I will hone my wit and strengthen the temper of my metaphor until I am at least satisfied that I will suit my seat nicely, and not be forced to squeeze into a niche to small for me.
It is within this time that I also read. I read quite frequently, but there are times when I experience a piece which is different. It is more than what I understand as writing. For me the experience isn't like reading, it is being let into a persons very existence. Their ability to communicate dwarfs mine own in such a profound way as to be beyond compare. But compare I do, and I'm filled with malaise. That there is a being in the world who possesses creative power on a plane that I cannot fathom has the power to disconnect me from the fields I do inhabit.
But in juxtaposition there are these empty chronological calories. I consume them and am bloated with them, but they do not fill me with meaning or substance. I desire more meaty means of defining myself and want no more of this black sweetness which I have inundated myself with. Despite my indolence, I want to strive onward to slimming my literary figure to a razor sharpness. I will hone my wit and strengthen the temper of my metaphor until I am at least satisfied that I will suit my seat nicely, and not be forced to squeeze into a niche to small for me.
Things people Say
With he shear volume of possible sentences and thought constructions reaching off into the infinite, I often find that people say ridiculous things. Not you garden variety ridiculous stuff that you get out of your televangelists or UFO nuts, but stuff that if people really though about it, they might reconsider the very fabric of their reality.
There is no such thing as Magic. Now, by this sentence, completely rational, well thinking people mean that every action has a determinable and obvious cause, that can be broken down into a series of forces interacting in a clear and concise manner. That there is no event that happens without cause, or is totally inexplicable. This, I believe is true. I also believe that magic is real. When I say magic, I mean those little bits of information received at such a subconscious level of thinking that they don't even register. Love at first sight, Deja Vu, recollections of only the vaguest emotions without any sights, sounds or smells. Things that you look at and don't need to wonder about, because you know within the core of your being, without explanation.
"I don't know.' I hate that one. It isn't used as an honest admission of lacking knowledge though, its used as a white flag. I hear people say this all the time, sometimes I say it, and mean; "I honestly don't want to think about this topic in depth, please just tell me what the hell your talking about." Now, in some situations, I understand, this is useful, you shouldn't go around trying to engage in rigorous mental chess with every conversation. But I even hear it in academic settings in which your supposed to be challenged. It okay to not know something. It doesn't label you inept or a moron, it shows your strength, that you can admit something beyond your ken and work to bring it in.
For me, Santa Claus exists as well. Of course I don't believe that there is a happy red suited man living in the frigged north giving toys to all good christian children, and coal to the bad ones. The physical aspects of Santa Claus are of secondary concern to me. What really matters are those thing that make this more than just a pleasant fairy tale for boring winter nights. The stuff that latches onto those human parts of us that are altruistic and giving, that want to imagine, even if just for one day, that everyone COULD get along if we just tried hard enough. That if you could make everyone, everywhere, happy for just one day, the world would change forever. And aren't those lessons we want everyone to learn no matter what? That its good to want the best for everyone, even yourself. Or that its worth fighting those impossible battles. There is more magic, because its difficult, maybe impossible to explain why we know that those fights have to be fought, even though often we lose. But whats more magical than the improbable wining out over the sum of all possible probability's to the contrary.
Statistics say it isn't magic, but our human brains don't think in statistics, they think in human terms. Long shots are miracles, the stuff of myth and legend. Magic.
There is no such thing as Magic. Now, by this sentence, completely rational, well thinking people mean that every action has a determinable and obvious cause, that can be broken down into a series of forces interacting in a clear and concise manner. That there is no event that happens without cause, or is totally inexplicable. This, I believe is true. I also believe that magic is real. When I say magic, I mean those little bits of information received at such a subconscious level of thinking that they don't even register. Love at first sight, Deja Vu, recollections of only the vaguest emotions without any sights, sounds or smells. Things that you look at and don't need to wonder about, because you know within the core of your being, without explanation.
"I don't know.' I hate that one. It isn't used as an honest admission of lacking knowledge though, its used as a white flag. I hear people say this all the time, sometimes I say it, and mean; "I honestly don't want to think about this topic in depth, please just tell me what the hell your talking about." Now, in some situations, I understand, this is useful, you shouldn't go around trying to engage in rigorous mental chess with every conversation. But I even hear it in academic settings in which your supposed to be challenged. It okay to not know something. It doesn't label you inept or a moron, it shows your strength, that you can admit something beyond your ken and work to bring it in.
For me, Santa Claus exists as well. Of course I don't believe that there is a happy red suited man living in the frigged north giving toys to all good christian children, and coal to the bad ones. The physical aspects of Santa Claus are of secondary concern to me. What really matters are those thing that make this more than just a pleasant fairy tale for boring winter nights. The stuff that latches onto those human parts of us that are altruistic and giving, that want to imagine, even if just for one day, that everyone COULD get along if we just tried hard enough. That if you could make everyone, everywhere, happy for just one day, the world would change forever. And aren't those lessons we want everyone to learn no matter what? That its good to want the best for everyone, even yourself. Or that its worth fighting those impossible battles. There is more magic, because its difficult, maybe impossible to explain why we know that those fights have to be fought, even though often we lose. But whats more magical than the improbable wining out over the sum of all possible probability's to the contrary.
Statistics say it isn't magic, but our human brains don't think in statistics, they think in human terms. Long shots are miracles, the stuff of myth and legend. Magic.
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