Death. The soul leaves the body. The body is a shell, nothing more than a vessel for the soul, the fifth, transient element. For example, we call your body "yours." Like a possession. Not yourself. Do you see what I mean? "Self" is personality and thought and memories (not memory). And what is personality and thought and memory? Chemicals in your brain. But not even that. The way those chemicals come together, with the physical tissue of your brain and its orientation in space and time. But these things, personality and thought and memory, self, are not physical, nor would we ever presume to describe them as such. Really, how would we describe them? Abstractions. Not matter, but abstractions. It's a small step from abstractions to energy. After all, how would you describe energy? Try; it's really damn hard. Okay, you can say "I don't know" now. Self is so amorphous, indescribable, intangible, abstract… you get the picture.
Death. I keep wandering away from it (intentionally, perhaps..?). Body is a possession, a vessel, a shell. Even when you're alive. But it's a possession like a home. A house or an apartment. It's very personal, very you. Still, when the soul leaves, it's just a fallen log, a discarded muffin in a muddy parking lot (don't ask), a footprint in wet sand. It's the physical manifestation of memory, a dead body is. I want to be cremated. I want my body to go to the fire. Well, actually it's between cremation or just being left out for the animals and the plants and the elements. Air (the great oxidizer) and water (the great eroder) and earth (the great consumer) and fire (the great equalizer) and life. Other life: dogs and raccoons and birds and worms and beetles and trees and fungi and soil bacteria. Either way I am returned; even if I was embalmed and locked in a metal box and buried (*shudder shudder*) I would eventually return to the universe as organic molecules and even atoms. It would just take longer. Much longer.
One thing about my faith is that it's not particularly comforting. But that's the thing: that's because it's realistic. The world is not "made" for us. We are not "supposed" to be able to survive, thrive in it.
The "meaning" of life is that it works. There is no great reason.
The soul is recyclable, but not always recycled. Yes, reincarnation is in here somewhere, but I've got my own bent on it.
But I do know what happens when you die by a hand or a force other than your own. Sort of. Obviously I don't know, really. I mean, no one does. If only we could remember… Think of the first law of thermodynamics; conservation of energy and matter. Add up all the energy and mass on both sides of the chemical equation and they'll match. Mostly. I'm not going there, at least in this paragraph. Besides, I forget what the principle or whatever is called. Well, what is a soul but… something. I mean, there aren't specifics, but souls are like the gods; they have to be made of something. And there's only two things in the universe (don't you even think about it): matter and energy. Personally I'm leaning toward energy, and it makes sense/sounds good: heat energy, light energy, life energy. You know? But the point of this whole idea is that souls can neither be created nor destroyed (perhaps they can be converted, but not going there right now). Anyway, this means they have to be re-used, and I think they come out the other side looking pretty much the way they did. It's, like, hard to change energy, man…
Whoa, I just started making sense! Like, trippy, right? Betcha didn't see that one coming, huh?
So, souls survive the journey from one body (the deceased) to another (the newly born) pretty much unchanged. I have no thoughts on the actual method of the journey at this moment; I will just say that Death is neutral among divines (I'm not even sure he qualifies as a divine) and men, and there are Angels [of Death] and Reapers involved. What; you thought I didn't have a theory? Silly, silly; you don't know me yet, do ye? Actually, have you been, like, paying attention?
BTW: I've been writing this to myself. Because I talk to myself. I know, circular, but I get hold of an idea and I'm like a terrier with a bone. Never let it go. Just sayin'.
So, I don't really know the mechanism, and the importance of that statement is that I don't know why we don't know who/what we were. I think that now would be the time to point out that souls are present in all living things, so species, even kingdom, is sort of a nonissue.
Showing posts with label Power. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Power. Show all posts
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Good and bad and everything in between.
I've started watching Dexter again. I don't know why I ever stopped; it's such a fascinating study in human nature. Or... something else... I guess Dexter would describe himself as other-than-human, but what is it that makes us human? If it is the physical condition of being human (born human, of humans, in humanity, with the same genetic makeup as humans and the same material needs) then Dexter is most certainly human. And he's not a sociopath, as I've heard suggested. He displays some sociapathic characteristics, but he wouldn't care about all these people, even Harry, if he was. And he does care, and that's why the show's interesting.
I've watched all the usual crime/forensics/police dramas: CSI (in its many incarnations), Law & Order (in its ever-more-numerous masques), Bones, Inspector Lynley, and such, and I feel this has made me better able to appreciate Dexter. I do not mean to suggest that any of these are realistic (I have come to realize over the years that many are far from accurate, most notably CSI (in which techs are given guns and the lab rats go into the field). I think maybe this innacuracy allows me to juxtapose CSI (which, I must admit, is probably the worst perpetrator) with Dexter. But knowing these shows allows me to ignore all the forensics and police procedural part. I imagine Dexter's as accurate perhaps as L & O, but the point is not accuracy, precisely. The other route a show like this usually goes is invariably the drama route, which I suppose they are, deep down inside, but Dexter doesn't even really land there. Sure there's the family drama, with his sister and his father and his girlfriend and her kids. But it's not really about these people; it's all about him.
At the core, every story is very specific; it's about one or a few people and the world's relationship with them. That's what a main character is: a focus, a thumbtack on a map with strings radiating. It seems simple, even simplistic when I say it like that. Oh, well.
On the surface Dexter looks like another fascinatingly twisted string of executions that draw us in a mob to the gallows (everybody likes a good beheading). But I think underneath it's a more subtle weaving pushing common ideals--such as the morals we're taught when we're three and too young to think--and challenging our senses of ourselves. Actually, I think that most people who watch it tend to ignore that bit, and that's why it's survived so long. People feel gratified to watch Dex fulfill their needs for justice (even though justice resides in a different realm and looks not at all like what we think justice should), but they don't examine why. I've long given up trying to be disgusted at the revenge-fantasy this heroic vigilante-ism brings to the surface in me. I'm comfortable with my amygdala; are you?
I like Dexter.
I've watched all the usual crime/forensics/police dramas: CSI (in its many incarnations), Law & Order (in its ever-more-numerous masques), Bones, Inspector Lynley, and such, and I feel this has made me better able to appreciate Dexter. I do not mean to suggest that any of these are realistic (I have come to realize over the years that many are far from accurate, most notably CSI (in which techs are given guns and the lab rats go into the field). I think maybe this innacuracy allows me to juxtapose CSI (which, I must admit, is probably the worst perpetrator) with Dexter. But knowing these shows allows me to ignore all the forensics and police procedural part. I imagine Dexter's as accurate perhaps as L & O, but the point is not accuracy, precisely. The other route a show like this usually goes is invariably the drama route, which I suppose they are, deep down inside, but Dexter doesn't even really land there. Sure there's the family drama, with his sister and his father and his girlfriend and her kids. But it's not really about these people; it's all about him.
At the core, every story is very specific; it's about one or a few people and the world's relationship with them. That's what a main character is: a focus, a thumbtack on a map with strings radiating. It seems simple, even simplistic when I say it like that. Oh, well.
On the surface Dexter looks like another fascinatingly twisted string of executions that draw us in a mob to the gallows (everybody likes a good beheading). But I think underneath it's a more subtle weaving pushing common ideals--such as the morals we're taught when we're three and too young to think--and challenging our senses of ourselves. Actually, I think that most people who watch it tend to ignore that bit, and that's why it's survived so long. People feel gratified to watch Dex fulfill their needs for justice (even though justice resides in a different realm and looks not at all like what we think justice should), but they don't examine why. I've long given up trying to be disgusted at the revenge-fantasy this heroic vigilante-ism brings to the surface in me. I'm comfortable with my amygdala; are you?
I like Dexter.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Playing god and other human pursuits.
Today I'm thinking about euthanasia. Alternately, murder. I don't know.
Up until a few years ago I was set on a career in veterinary medicine. I wanted, needed to be a veterinarian. I... honestly, I don't really know why it was so important to me. At first I suppose it was just like, "Oh I love animals, and I want to work in the sciences, and I want to help the animals that live with us." I have always liked animals more than humans to some extent; as I've aged it's shifted from disgust with the human race and reverence of non-human animals to, well, I'm still pretty disgusted with humans, but it's less of a generalization and more on a case-by-case basis. So when I was little I deemed non-human animals more deserving of medical care. I counter any protests of "But you're human, and our pets need humans to provide that care," with "I was, like, six years old." Six-year-olds aren't known for their expansive considerations of reality (ie how the world works).
As I got older I developed more concrete reasons for becoming a vet. I started feeling that pulling at my heart when I thought of animals suffering illness or mistreatment. I realized that I felt personally obligated to do whatever I could to help them, for they could not help themselves. I still feel that obligation, but I realize now that your life's work should also be something that is fascinating to me, and my fascination is not in veterinary medicine.
My career plans are not the point. So what is? you ask. The point: one disparity between medicine for humans and non-humans is at the end of medicine. By that I mean, of course, how and when death comes.
The very simple fact is: humans often choose when an animal will die. Another simple fact: it is illegal and usually considered amoral for humans to choose when a human will die (with exceptions and/or loopholes). Why? If you ask someone that question, chances are they will have a hard time with a solid answer. I've thought about this question a lot, and I've come to the conclusion that the law is as it is because there is an inherent assumption that humans are more important than non-humans. I wouldn't expect an easy answer out of anyone to this question, either, even though it's basically a yes/no question.
My take is that it's something that people believe deeply--perhaps subconsciously--but are uncomfortable voicing aloud. But shouldn't a person be able to say what she thinks? Also, this belief in human superiority is probably widely-held, so speaking it aloud would place one squarely within the clear--albeit close-mouthed--majority.
I will speak: I do not agree with the statement that humans are more important than non-humans. I strongly believe that humans are of equal importance with non-humans. Who knows, maybe I'll change my mind in a few years; I did start out believing that non-humans were of more importance than humans.
The most trouble I have with that statement is the use of "important." Calling something important implies that there is a purpose for it, and we've already said there is no purpose for living things, nor even for living. Actually, Oxford English Dictionary defines important as "of great significance or value; likely to have a profound effect on success, survival, or well-being." You could argue that because of the inclusion of "profound effect on... survival" it might have bearing on the relationship between these two things (humans and non-humans); actually there is no relevance to this comparison because the it is not comparing to methods of finding food or shelter or anything like that, so there is no element of survival. It is not calling into question the survival skills of either being, but comparing them as if they were instrumental to some sort of universal scheme, which smacks of monotheism (and actually most religions with divinity/-ies).
So the natural next question is "Why then do we decide when animals die and not when humans die?" When we can't easily answer that one, we might go to "Why is it socially acceptable to decide for animals and not humans?" or even "Is it right?" And then we get to right vs wrong, my least favorite dichotomy of all time (and I can even say with confidence that I will never meet another dichotomy that I loathe more).
It's been a hard week.
Up until a few years ago I was set on a career in veterinary medicine. I wanted, needed to be a veterinarian. I... honestly, I don't really know why it was so important to me. At first I suppose it was just like, "Oh I love animals, and I want to work in the sciences, and I want to help the animals that live with us." I have always liked animals more than humans to some extent; as I've aged it's shifted from disgust with the human race and reverence of non-human animals to, well, I'm still pretty disgusted with humans, but it's less of a generalization and more on a case-by-case basis. So when I was little I deemed non-human animals more deserving of medical care. I counter any protests of "But you're human, and our pets need humans to provide that care," with "I was, like, six years old." Six-year-olds aren't known for their expansive considerations of reality (ie how the world works).
As I got older I developed more concrete reasons for becoming a vet. I started feeling that pulling at my heart when I thought of animals suffering illness or mistreatment. I realized that I felt personally obligated to do whatever I could to help them, for they could not help themselves. I still feel that obligation, but I realize now that your life's work should also be something that is fascinating to me, and my fascination is not in veterinary medicine.
My career plans are not the point. So what is? you ask. The point: one disparity between medicine for humans and non-humans is at the end of medicine. By that I mean, of course, how and when death comes.
The very simple fact is: humans often choose when an animal will die. Another simple fact: it is illegal and usually considered amoral for humans to choose when a human will die (with exceptions and/or loopholes). Why? If you ask someone that question, chances are they will have a hard time with a solid answer. I've thought about this question a lot, and I've come to the conclusion that the law is as it is because there is an inherent assumption that humans are more important than non-humans. I wouldn't expect an easy answer out of anyone to this question, either, even though it's basically a yes/no question.
My take is that it's something that people believe deeply--perhaps subconsciously--but are uncomfortable voicing aloud. But shouldn't a person be able to say what she thinks? Also, this belief in human superiority is probably widely-held, so speaking it aloud would place one squarely within the clear--albeit close-mouthed--majority.
I will speak: I do not agree with the statement that humans are more important than non-humans. I strongly believe that humans are of equal importance with non-humans. Who knows, maybe I'll change my mind in a few years; I did start out believing that non-humans were of more importance than humans.
The most trouble I have with that statement is the use of "important." Calling something important implies that there is a purpose for it, and we've already said there is no purpose for living things, nor even for living. Actually, Oxford English Dictionary defines important as "of great significance or value; likely to have a profound effect on success, survival, or well-being." You could argue that because of the inclusion of "profound effect on... survival" it might have bearing on the relationship between these two things (humans and non-humans); actually there is no relevance to this comparison because the it is not comparing to methods of finding food or shelter or anything like that, so there is no element of survival. It is not calling into question the survival skills of either being, but comparing them as if they were instrumental to some sort of universal scheme, which smacks of monotheism (and actually most religions with divinity/-ies).
So the natural next question is "Why then do we decide when animals die and not when humans die?" When we can't easily answer that one, we might go to "Why is it socially acceptable to decide for animals and not humans?" or even "Is it right?" And then we get to right vs wrong, my least favorite dichotomy of all time (and I can even say with confidence that I will never meet another dichotomy that I loathe more).
It's been a hard week.
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Evolution of a Sort of Moral Code; A Belief in Ethics, If You Will.
Ethics and morality are slippery and always-controversial subjects. I often avoid them for that very reason, but I find that I cannot always stand quietly by in the shadows. I need for my voice to be heard.
I'm reading Pathologies of Power by Paul Farmer, a fairly well-known medical anthropologist. You may have heard of Tracy Kidder's book Mountains Beyond Mountains, which is about Farmer's quest for global health. I don't mean the sort of global health that is tracking who gets sick and where so disease can be controlled and contained, I mean global health in the sense that the whole world, everyone in the world has access to such resources that might keep or make them healthy.
I just have a quick note (because I've only just started the book) about my thoughts on charity and morality, actually.
"The ends justify the means." When Machiavelli wrote that, he was thinking and writing of governments and rulers, not the rights and freedoms of the ruled; in fact, I've heard it argued that he was thinking the opposite, and many commonly define his "ends" as a total subjugation of the people. I believe that, whatever the original ideas behind the statement, it can be applied to my concept of charity and morality. The end in this case is the improvement of living conditions and quality of life for a people, and the means are all the charities that funnel money and labor into this project, and all the donations by the well-off to those charities.
The first part (of two) of Farmer's book is titled "Bearing Witness;" the first part of the first part--a sort of prologue to the part--is an elaboration on that title. Farmer says he is anxious about the title and a reason he gives is that he is apprehensive of misrepresenting the poor.
I want to emphasize that I don't think that charity and such is "bad," I just think it's maybe not as truthful as we'd like it to be.
I'm having trouble forming coherent sentences, so I think I'm going to go to sleep now. But as I read the book, I'm sure I'll have a lot more to say. Thanks for listening!
I'm reading Pathologies of Power by Paul Farmer, a fairly well-known medical anthropologist. You may have heard of Tracy Kidder's book Mountains Beyond Mountains, which is about Farmer's quest for global health. I don't mean the sort of global health that is tracking who gets sick and where so disease can be controlled and contained, I mean global health in the sense that the whole world, everyone in the world has access to such resources that might keep or make them healthy.
I just have a quick note (because I've only just started the book) about my thoughts on charity and morality, actually.
"The ends justify the means." When Machiavelli wrote that, he was thinking and writing of governments and rulers, not the rights and freedoms of the ruled; in fact, I've heard it argued that he was thinking the opposite, and many commonly define his "ends" as a total subjugation of the people. I believe that, whatever the original ideas behind the statement, it can be applied to my concept of charity and morality. The end in this case is the improvement of living conditions and quality of life for a people, and the means are all the charities that funnel money and labor into this project, and all the donations by the well-off to those charities.
The first part (of two) of Farmer's book is titled "Bearing Witness;" the first part of the first part--a sort of prologue to the part--is an elaboration on that title. Farmer says he is anxious about the title and a reason he gives is that he is apprehensive of misrepresenting the poor.
"Some of my anxiety has legitimate sources: the boundary between bearing witness and disrespectful (or self-interested) rooting is not always evident, even to those seeking to be discerning."This is his way of saying "morality" for its own sake is not morality. I use "morality" here to represent many of the good-samaritan acts or charity projects that the well-off do for the worse-off.
I want to emphasize that I don't think that charity and such is "bad," I just think it's maybe not as truthful as we'd like it to be.
I'm having trouble forming coherent sentences, so I think I'm going to go to sleep now. But as I read the book, I'm sure I'll have a lot more to say. Thanks for listening!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Filial piety is such an antiquated term. I just like it because it sounds funky.
I apologize for throwing more Frankenstein in your face, but we are discussing it in my humanities class, so it's at the forefront of my mind. So our discussion today was on the second volume of the book, and especially the sort of climax of the book, when Frankenstein and the creature actually meet and converse. The creature tells his [surprisingly long] story, basically the story of his life. This started me thinking on duty, especially of children to parents (this has no connections to recent events and relationships in my own life, of course). Some sort of duty of the children to the parents is a common theme in many cultures, the idea that a child is beholden to her parents because of all they did for her when she could not do for herself. I do not believe that such a duty exists.
I love my mother, and I like to hang out with her and give her little presents and call her and make her happy. But I don't do it because I feel like I owe her for bringing me up. Sure, I owe her for a great many other things, but bringing me up is not one on my list. I suppose the defining factor for me lies in choice, namely mine.
If I ask for a book and someone gets it for me, I fee I owe that person a debt. Depending on many factors (circumstances, relationship, and the values and ideas of the giver) I may owe them a gift of my own or just gratitude. But if I don't ask for a book and someone gets it for me, I feel I do not owe that person anything. This does not mean that I will not be grateful, it just means that my reciprocation, be it gratitude or a gift of my own, will be given freely and on my own terms.
It doesn't have to be specific, either. Take for example a birthday present. If I ask for that book for my birthday and my brother gets it for me, then I owe him; since it's my birthday (and he's my brother) my debt will not be more than gratitude and a call to thank him (as in, no more will be expected by him or anyone else). Similarly if I ask for a book for my birthday and my brother gets me that book or any other book, then the same debt is owed (though in some circumstances, perhaps less). However, if I don't ask for a book or that book and my brother gets me a book for my birthday I don't owe him anything. Because I love and respect him and want to let him know that I appreciate his gift, I will call him to thank him, but not because of anything owed to him.
This is a generalized example, but I feel the principle applies to child/parent relationships as well. Children don't--indeed, can't--ask to be conceived/born, yet they are. Infants can't ask to be cared for, fed, clothed, and housed, yet they are. And children don't ask to be brought up, but they are. The beauty of the thing is that they are not required to ask. As much as I believe children do not have a duty to their parents, I believe parents do have a duty to their children (this is my tie-in to Frankenstein). Inherent in the word "duty" is the expectation that there is no expectation of reciprocation; then duty is not a task of honor and responsibility but a manipulative perversion. Parents do choose to conceive and bring their children into the world. Once they are in the world, parents have a duty take care of their children and bring them up. And since children don't ask for this, whether because of inability or ignorance, they owe nothing to their parents for this.
I think a healthier relationship springs from this understanding. Because there is no duty to the parents, all children do for their parents is pure, unencumbered by responsibility and perhaps guilt. Children do things for their parents because they love them. Or if the children don't do anything for their parents, that is their prerogative. This I think applies especially to grown children and their aged parents. So your mother can't use the line "you owe me because I raised you" to justify her moving into your house.
No, I haven't forgotten what I said earlier about receiving gifts you've asked for. If you ask for something, like a birthday present or tuition for college, you do owe your parents for what they give. The way I look at college is: it's not yet a right (although it's close to one). Until it becomes a right (that is, necessary for survival), college tuition is a gift from your parents that you have asked for, and you owe them.
That said, you can't collect on debts later, except in certain situations. For example, if your friend asks for a cake for her birthday and you make it for her, she owes you a debt of gratitude. If you give it to her and don't say anything, just expect gratitude in return because it's her birthday then it's all good. If it comes to be a few days or a week or so later after you gave her the cake in exchange for gratitude, you cannot then expect something in return, like a cake for your birthday. Not that it wouldn't be right for her to make one for you, since she's your friend and it's your birthday and, hey, you made her a birthday cake so she'd like to make you one, too.
So, going back to the parent/child examples, if you ask for and your dad gives you a bike for your twelfth birthday and doesn't ask for anything in return, he can't then turn around ten years later and expect his gift of a bike on your twelfth birthday means you owe him anything, like spending time with him. You might spend time with him because you want to, but if you don't want to then you don't have to.
Is that it? Yeah, I think that's pretty much it. If I think of anything else, I'll post it later.
I'm not too hot on some of their conclusions, but it's funny and it kinda illustrates my point: Cracked.com - 7 Life Altering Decisions Made For You (Before Your Birth)
I'm not too hot on some of their conclusions, but it's funny and it kinda illustrates my point: Cracked.com - 7 Life Altering Decisions Made For You (Before Your Birth)
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Musings during the Super Bowl on the Glory of Sports
Sports are about humanity. Sports are about what it means ("means") to be human. As overplayed as it is, Queen's song "We Will Rock You" is the epitome of sport. It's all about fighting and dreaming and reaching. It's all about violence and peace. It's all about looking out for number one and raising your brothers and sisters to great heights.
Can you tell I'm watching the Super Bowl? I apologize, my writing gets really spastic when I'm simultaneously watching tv.
I had someone try to tell me that sports weren't all about violence. But competition is all violence, or rather the re-routing of it. It is long recognized that humans have the ability to mask primal urges and emotions. Some insist this is what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom, especially other mammals such as dogs, cats, and other primates. I agree, but I think such controlling tendencies fall somewhere on a continuum... but that discussion is for another day.
Returning to the violence, I would argue it's a part of human nature. Again, for another day, but if for a moment we assume that this is true then we, as [presumably] civilized creatures need an outlet that doesn't result in World Wars every other day. That outlet? We wear pads instead of plate armor and throw pigskin instead of grenades. Yes, we still certainly throw each other to the ground and ram our shoulders into stomachs and sternums, but after everyone's lying in a heap we all help each other up and pat each other on the back.
My examples are all specific to football (American football, that is) but that's because I'm sitting in front of the tv watching the game right now. I can certainly apply this repurposing of violence to other sports. For instance, my friend asked, what about golf? To which I replied, it's still competition, and some way to test your physical prowess. Perhaps you aren't physically confronting someone but the object of the sport is still to best someone else in a test of evolutionary fitness. And after all, you are hitting something.
I feel like I just made sports a bad thing for some people. I didn't intend it as such, and I hope my readers will understand that what I wanted to convey was the majesty of human ingenuity. We found a way to funnel our need for war into productive activity. We better ourselves through the act of playing sports, in body, in mind, and in spirit.
By the way, I just like football.
Can you tell I'm watching the Super Bowl? I apologize, my writing gets really spastic when I'm simultaneously watching tv.
I had someone try to tell me that sports weren't all about violence. But competition is all violence, or rather the re-routing of it. It is long recognized that humans have the ability to mask primal urges and emotions. Some insist this is what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom, especially other mammals such as dogs, cats, and other primates. I agree, but I think such controlling tendencies fall somewhere on a continuum... but that discussion is for another day.
Returning to the violence, I would argue it's a part of human nature. Again, for another day, but if for a moment we assume that this is true then we, as [presumably] civilized creatures need an outlet that doesn't result in World Wars every other day. That outlet? We wear pads instead of plate armor and throw pigskin instead of grenades. Yes, we still certainly throw each other to the ground and ram our shoulders into stomachs and sternums, but after everyone's lying in a heap we all help each other up and pat each other on the back.
My examples are all specific to football (American football, that is) but that's because I'm sitting in front of the tv watching the game right now. I can certainly apply this repurposing of violence to other sports. For instance, my friend asked, what about golf? To which I replied, it's still competition, and some way to test your physical prowess. Perhaps you aren't physically confronting someone but the object of the sport is still to best someone else in a test of evolutionary fitness. And after all, you are hitting something.
I feel like I just made sports a bad thing for some people. I didn't intend it as such, and I hope my readers will understand that what I wanted to convey was the majesty of human ingenuity. We found a way to funnel our need for war into productive activity. We better ourselves through the act of playing sports, in body, in mind, and in spirit.
By the way, I just like football.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Pondering the soul, and what it means to have one. Also, assuming I do.
All I can see is land and sky. That seems like a lot, even everything, I suppose, but when it's just the land and the sky, a horizon way off as far as I can see, and nothing else, now that's something. Yeah, that's something. No houses, not any buildings to block the skyline, make it irregular. Not even any plants. No trees, or shrubs, or even grasses. I can see forever.
But obviously I can't; if I could see forever I'd see all the buildings and trees on the other side of that horizon. And I can't, because I'm gloriously alone. I can see the sun in the sky; it's big and yellow, hanging there like it's got nowhere else to go. Well, it doesn't really. It's stuck in place, because what's going to move the sun? Objects in motion tend to stay in motion; objects at rest tend to stay at rest, or some such thing. It's sitting in space, a big, fat, lazy ball of simmering plasma, and it's not going to move, dammit.
Every living thing has a… soul… for lack of a better term. The fifth element. Life. We are all made up of the five elements: water is in our blood and our breath and our cells; earth is in our tissues, muscle and bone, tendon and ligament; air is the stuff we breathe, and it fills our bodies, allows them shape; fire is in the chemical processes that keep us alive, in thought and movement. The fifth element, I'll call it the soul, is in everything. Those reactions, that fire, that moves us and keeps us, don't have to work. They do work, but nothing except some force means they have to do so.
If I was so inclined, this is where I'd find God. Or gods. It isn't though; they come in elsewhere. Because they have to be made of something, too, right? Even if they're just some pseudo-corporeal manifestation of energy, like particles of light. Sure, two hydrogens and an oxygen are attracted to each other, and they form this molecule called water, but nothing really says they have to. I mean, why? Why is the question of the hour, isn't it? Sure, glucose goes through the chemical process of respiration, and it involves oxygen, and the atoms and electrons dance and we get ATP, which holds energy in the bonds in its phosphate tail. But why? Ask a biologist, she'll start talking about metabolic pathways and evolution, if she is so incline. Ask a chemist; he'll just go back to electron transfers and oxidation numbers and electronegativity. Ask a physicist; he'll talk about the laws of thermodynamics, and matter and energy. Ask a philosopher; he'll probably spout some nonsense about JCGod or a greater power, or if he's a Marxist he'll probably just say something about the good of the whole (note to self: find a Nihilist and ask about why chemical reactions work). But none of them get to the root of it, and this is where human finds religion.
.
Or faith; I have faith. Religion (see definition #2) is such a deplorable word. Burdened with the pain and hatred and guilt and sorrow and zealotry and filth of ages of men and women. I choose to believe (and I know this is right, but I recognize that my knowledge is reached and accepted in the same way as a priest thumps his JCBible (but he's wrong, I know, for isn't that the basis of faith)) that this fifth element is natural in origin, as the other four. But what is natural? JCGod (the god of Christians and Jews and Muslims, and many others I suppose) is a manmade thing; a creation of short-sighted minds fumbling in the dark abyss of space (where they oughtn't be). They seek an answer where there is not one that is solid, that men can cling to like the slick board tossed in a feral sea.
My fifth element, life, soul, is not concrete in the sense that the JCBible is. Well, to point out the obvious, the JCBible is an actual book, that I can go to Barnes & Noble and purchase and hold in my hands. And, may I point out, write in. But even more than that, there is an intelligence, a design behind those words, those ideas, that I just cannot find in the world. I reach my faith from observation and long hours of introspection, not from the fantastic (albeit entertaining) ramblings of some random dude(s).
I entertained the idea of a "cult" of sorts, mostly to screw with the norm, though. I do think it would be fun, certainly interesting, to tell other people what I know. I mean, I'll tell people what I know, and if they then know it too, that's cool. But I think there should observation and introspection involved in formulating your own faith. Faith is very much an individual thing. That is not saying that there are not aspects for sharing. Feasts and celebrations are great times for sharing, and in this way I understand the attraction of a church. In a church, or a temple, or any other sort of religious community, people can find just that: community. There is a comfort to being with people who believe in the world the same way as do you. I understand that completely; I wish there was just such a community that I could be part of. However, there is one basic difference in the formation of community and shared celebration, and in a church-like community: faith is not at all a group endeavour. Religion is a group endeavor, and, as we have already discussed, I view "religion" as a word not to be spoken without full comprehension of the weight and meaning behind it.
And that's where religion goes wrong; people believe these things that they do not know (and in this statement, I hope you've been paying attention, because in the context of these ramblings of mine, "know," as well as other key words, mean something other than they normally mean in everyday conversation). It's kind of ludicrous. There is no truth but one's own; what may be true for you may not be true for me. This is hard for many to grasp; I myself have struggled a lot with this one. But I have finally come to the conclusion that truth, like time and perception (and because of perception), is relative.
But obviously I can't; if I could see forever I'd see all the buildings and trees on the other side of that horizon. And I can't, because I'm gloriously alone. I can see the sun in the sky; it's big and yellow, hanging there like it's got nowhere else to go. Well, it doesn't really. It's stuck in place, because what's going to move the sun? Objects in motion tend to stay in motion; objects at rest tend to stay at rest, or some such thing. It's sitting in space, a big, fat, lazy ball of simmering plasma, and it's not going to move, dammit.
 |
| Like this guy. |
But me, I move. I move all the time. I can't stay still, and this is not just me. Animals have to move all the time. Stop moving, and you're dead. Not just that you'll die, but a state of immobility is the definition of death. I guess. Yeah, that works; death is just you being still. Your heart doesn't beat, your diaphragm doesn't contract or relax, your blood doesn't circulate, your neurons don't fire and the ions don't dance around the synapses. You're still. Your soul doesn't move you, because it's not there anymore.
Every living thing has a… soul… for lack of a better term. The fifth element. Life. We are all made up of the five elements: water is in our blood and our breath and our cells; earth is in our tissues, muscle and bone, tendon and ligament; air is the stuff we breathe, and it fills our bodies, allows them shape; fire is in the chemical processes that keep us alive, in thought and movement. The fifth element, I'll call it the soul, is in everything. Those reactions, that fire, that moves us and keeps us, don't have to work. They do work, but nothing except some force means they have to do so.
If I was so inclined, this is where I'd find God. Or gods. It isn't though; they come in elsewhere. Because they have to be made of something, too, right? Even if they're just some pseudo-corporeal manifestation of energy, like particles of light. Sure, two hydrogens and an oxygen are attracted to each other, and they form this molecule called water, but nothing really says they have to. I mean, why? Why is the question of the hour, isn't it? Sure, glucose goes through the chemical process of respiration, and it involves oxygen, and the atoms and electrons dance and we get ATP, which holds energy in the bonds in its phosphate tail. But why? Ask a biologist, she'll start talking about metabolic pathways and evolution, if she is so incline. Ask a chemist; he'll just go back to electron transfers and oxidation numbers and electronegativity. Ask a physicist; he'll talk about the laws of thermodynamics, and matter and energy. Ask a philosopher; he'll probably spout some nonsense about JCGod or a greater power, or if he's a Marxist he'll probably just say something about the good of the whole (note to self: find a Nihilist and ask about why chemical reactions work). But none of them get to the root of it, and this is where human finds religion.
.
 |
| Nope, not here. |
My fifth element, life, soul, is not concrete in the sense that the JCBible is. Well, to point out the obvious, the JCBible is an actual book, that I can go to Barnes & Noble and purchase and hold in my hands. And, may I point out, write in. But even more than that, there is an intelligence, a design behind those words, those ideas, that I just cannot find in the world. I reach my faith from observation and long hours of introspection, not from the fantastic (albeit entertaining) ramblings of some random dude(s).
 |
| It's not kool aid; whatever are you talking about? |
And that's where religion goes wrong; people believe these things that they do not know (and in this statement, I hope you've been paying attention, because in the context of these ramblings of mine, "know," as well as other key words, mean something other than they normally mean in everyday conversation). It's kind of ludicrous. There is no truth but one's own; what may be true for you may not be true for me. This is hard for many to grasp; I myself have struggled a lot with this one. But I have finally come to the conclusion that truth, like time and perception (and because of perception), is relative.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
No, you can't blow up pineapples with your mind, but thinking happy thoughts doesn't hurt, either.
I know I just bashed positive thinking, so what I want to talk about today might seem a little hypocritical. I could spend a paragraph (and I just might) telling you about how it's not (hypocritical, that is) but that would be a waste of words. You're going to decide for yourself, whatever I say, and that's the beauty of being an individual. But what are words for if not wasting, so yeah, there's a bit about why this is different than my rant on positive thinking. Just roll with it. Anyway, here I go...
Last night I had what you might call a revelation.
The night began with business as usual; I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to find a position that was comfortable for more than two minutes, and generally feeling horrible. While most people (I presume) are able to drift into a vaguely comforting and blissfully thoughtless pre-sleep state in a timely manner (read: not two hours) after they get into bed, "sleepy-time" does not translate for my brain. My thoughts do not slow down and I am not able to turn them to counting sheep or visualizing numbers 1-100 or floating in a void. Most of what I do is worry.
I have resigned myself to the fact that I am a worrier, like my mother and my grandmother. I try not to worry about what I can't control, of course; for the most part it works pretty well. I would even suggest that I sometimes adopt a rather devil-may-care attitude. However, all bets are off when I go to bed. It's not that I worry about things I can do nothing about, but the opposite; I worry about things I would normally have a hand in but don't because I'm trying to go to sleep. Key word: trying. When you're in bed it doesn't do you any good to think of what clothes you're going to wear tomorrow or that the due date for your next tuition payment is coming up or that you have to read 100 pages for class in two days, because you're in bed. It's like these things pounce on me when they see me mentally vulnerable, because there is one thing I worry about that I don't really have control over: getting enough sleep. It's my very own encyclopedia illustration of "The Vicious Cycle."
So I was lying there listening to my classical music when I thought, "what if jI just eliminate "should" from my thoughts?" So I changed every "I have to..." and "I should..." and "I need to..." to "I want." And it worked.
Instead of "I should get up early and go to the gym tomorrow," I thought "I want to get up early and go to the gym tomorrow," and with that small substitution I felt better.
My worry about getting enough sleep was mostly coming from that, so instead of listening to classical because "I should listen to something quiet so I'll go to sleep soon" I changed my ipod to pop rock because "I want to go to sleep but I don't have to so I want to listen to the music I feel like listening to." My mom always says, what's the worst thing that could happen if you don't go to sleep? You're tired the next day. Eventually, you're going to be tired enough (probably the next night) to go to sleep.
I do want to go a little bit into the difference between this and the positive thinking I was talking about earlier. I feel like this whole "power of positive thinking" thing is way out of hand. I see people expecting job prospects and other people's ideas and even actual physical realities to change just because they wish really, really hard on that star or believe everyone is born with an angelic conscience. This is delusional. Jobs will open up to you if you do the legwork, and a lot of the time even after that they don't pan out. You have a chance of changing someone's mind if you argue your case convincingly, but even then it's like that person is an arbitrary judge with the final "yea" or "nay." And influencing physical things with your mind? Even now psychologists and physicians are undecided as to whether your thoughts influence your biochemistry or it's the other way around. Influencing things outside your own body: forget it. Delusional.
But your thoughts are all words; try to think of the last time you didn't have a spastic inner monologue (or dialogue, or poly-logue) continuously running through your mind? Bet you can't. The human experience is defined by language. And before you protest, when you were a baby (without language) your thoughts and experiences were still framed with communication (probably, because it's not something we can really know).
So if words make up your mind and, by extension, your perception (which is really what we're talking about, because perception is reality and experience and emotion and thought), couldn't you affect your own mind through control of words? Words and language have an intimate power, and since emotions are thoughts (perhaps unconsciously) and thoughts are words, then you can control (or at least shape) your emotions with words.
Okay, so in theory it works. Try it with me. (I honestly have no idea if it'll have an effect on you.) Pick something that stresses you out: impending exams; looming bills; that report you have to get to your boss by next week. Phrase it with an "I have to" or an "I should," eg "I should study for my test next week." Ugh, even knowing I don't have a test next week, that makes me feel all slimy inside. Okay, now change it to "I want to." eg "I want to study for my test next week." Maybe add a "because," like "I want to study for my test next week because I want a good grade." Look, another "I want." We're on a roll. Now, does that make you feel better? I feel better. Now, even though my test was hypothetical, I feel better about it and better about hypothetically studying for it.
I just wanted to share this with y'all, because I think it's so awesome. I didn't necessarily go to sleep faster after that, but I am an insomniac...
Anyway, to finish up I just want to emphasize that this is not what I would call "magical" positive thinking. As my parents have always told me, you can't change anyone's mind but your own. In the same vein, you can't get a new car through wishing, Dad's Alzheimer's isn't going to go away even if you pray, and $30,000 isn't going to appear in your bank account just because it would be really, really awesome.
It would be awesome. Oh well.
NB The title reference is from "Accepted." Good movie. I recommend it.
Last night I had what you might call a revelation.
The night began with business as usual; I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to find a position that was comfortable for more than two minutes, and generally feeling horrible. While most people (I presume) are able to drift into a vaguely comforting and blissfully thoughtless pre-sleep state in a timely manner (read: not two hours) after they get into bed, "sleepy-time" does not translate for my brain. My thoughts do not slow down and I am not able to turn them to counting sheep or visualizing numbers 1-100 or floating in a void. Most of what I do is worry.
I have resigned myself to the fact that I am a worrier, like my mother and my grandmother. I try not to worry about what I can't control, of course; for the most part it works pretty well. I would even suggest that I sometimes adopt a rather devil-may-care attitude. However, all bets are off when I go to bed. It's not that I worry about things I can do nothing about, but the opposite; I worry about things I would normally have a hand in but don't because I'm trying to go to sleep. Key word: trying. When you're in bed it doesn't do you any good to think of what clothes you're going to wear tomorrow or that the due date for your next tuition payment is coming up or that you have to read 100 pages for class in two days, because you're in bed. It's like these things pounce on me when they see me mentally vulnerable, because there is one thing I worry about that I don't really have control over: getting enough sleep. It's my very own encyclopedia illustration of "The Vicious Cycle."
So I was lying there listening to my classical music when I thought, "what if jI just eliminate "should" from my thoughts?" So I changed every "I have to..." and "I should..." and "I need to..." to "I want." And it worked.
Instead of "I should get up early and go to the gym tomorrow," I thought "I want to get up early and go to the gym tomorrow," and with that small substitution I felt better.
My worry about getting enough sleep was mostly coming from that, so instead of listening to classical because "I should listen to something quiet so I'll go to sleep soon" I changed my ipod to pop rock because "I want to go to sleep but I don't have to so I want to listen to the music I feel like listening to." My mom always says, what's the worst thing that could happen if you don't go to sleep? You're tired the next day. Eventually, you're going to be tired enough (probably the next night) to go to sleep.
I do want to go a little bit into the difference between this and the positive thinking I was talking about earlier. I feel like this whole "power of positive thinking" thing is way out of hand. I see people expecting job prospects and other people's ideas and even actual physical realities to change just because they wish really, really hard on that star or believe everyone is born with an angelic conscience. This is delusional. Jobs will open up to you if you do the legwork, and a lot of the time even after that they don't pan out. You have a chance of changing someone's mind if you argue your case convincingly, but even then it's like that person is an arbitrary judge with the final "yea" or "nay." And influencing physical things with your mind? Even now psychologists and physicians are undecided as to whether your thoughts influence your biochemistry or it's the other way around. Influencing things outside your own body: forget it. Delusional.
But your thoughts are all words; try to think of the last time you didn't have a spastic inner monologue (or dialogue, or poly-logue) continuously running through your mind? Bet you can't. The human experience is defined by language. And before you protest, when you were a baby (without language) your thoughts and experiences were still framed with communication (probably, because it's not something we can really know).
So if words make up your mind and, by extension, your perception (which is really what we're talking about, because perception is reality and experience and emotion and thought), couldn't you affect your own mind through control of words? Words and language have an intimate power, and since emotions are thoughts (perhaps unconsciously) and thoughts are words, then you can control (or at least shape) your emotions with words.
Okay, so in theory it works. Try it with me. (I honestly have no idea if it'll have an effect on you.) Pick something that stresses you out: impending exams; looming bills; that report you have to get to your boss by next week. Phrase it with an "I have to" or an "I should," eg "I should study for my test next week." Ugh, even knowing I don't have a test next week, that makes me feel all slimy inside. Okay, now change it to "I want to." eg "I want to study for my test next week." Maybe add a "because," like "I want to study for my test next week because I want a good grade." Look, another "I want." We're on a roll. Now, does that make you feel better? I feel better. Now, even though my test was hypothetical, I feel better about it and better about hypothetically studying for it.
I just wanted to share this with y'all, because I think it's so awesome. I didn't necessarily go to sleep faster after that, but I am an insomniac...
Anyway, to finish up I just want to emphasize that this is not what I would call "magical" positive thinking. As my parents have always told me, you can't change anyone's mind but your own. In the same vein, you can't get a new car through wishing, Dad's Alzheimer's isn't going to go away even if you pray, and $30,000 isn't going to appear in your bank account just because it would be really, really awesome.
It would be awesome. Oh well.
NB The title reference is from "Accepted." Good movie. I recommend it.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
I Don't Mean To Suggest That I Think There Are Only 5 Elements...
Being a science major, I have learned quite a bit of evidence to the contrary. However, I only call Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and Spirit "elements" because, well, I haven't got a better name for them. That means I don't classify my 5 "elements" with other elements such as carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and the like. I'm not that crazy.
I was going to post these as a series, but I thought the task might be better served if I just bunched them together in a page (see top navbar) along with Multiverse and Triad. That way I can mention them with indiscriminate abandon in my posts from here on out and y'all can refamiliarize yourself with what I mean as you see fit. Thanks!
I was going to post these as a series, but I thought the task might be better served if I just bunched them together in a page (see top navbar) along with Multiverse and Triad. That way I can mention them with indiscriminate abandon in my posts from here on out and y'all can refamiliarize yourself with what I mean as you see fit. Thanks!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Fallibility of Positive Thinking
As expected, school is severely curtailing my writing; be not afraid, because I'm still here! I'll post at least once a week, when I find time. And on that thought...
Words have power, as do emotions and ideas. These things can influence others and even the world around us in ways we cannot comprehend. But wishing will not always make it so.
Along the lines of "Smile or Die," too often we put faith in the power of reason or right. "It'll all work out in the end," we assure ourselves. We (at least, people my age) grew up with Disney princesses who were beautiful and just and always got the guy in the end while saving the kingdom, Power Rangers who were granted magical powers to do righteous battle with the slimy forces of evil, and our parents and teachers telling us "you can be anything you want when you grow up;" even Pokemon is a story about an ordinary kid beating the odds and saving the world from injustice. And because we were kids the adults around us would have been foolish to let on that the world isn't always shiny and fair, because we would have thrown hissy fits.
But now I see people my age and older buying into the childlike delusion that "everything will be alright." I don't mean to sound pessimistic; there is good in the world (I suppose depending on how you define "good"), and most people could benefit from a little positive thinking. I accept the evidence for the placebo effect, and I believe that the right attitude can help you fight disease. Well, its effectiveness has been demonstrated. Many forms of Eastern Asian medicine talk about chi. I call it the fifth element. But if you have chronic bronchitis, or stomach cancer, or hepatitis, it's not a miracle cure. Just thought I'd mention this.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you wish on that shooting star and click your heels together and imagine a better world, the world is not going to get better unless you get up and do something about it.
More thoughts on positive thinking (no pun intended)...
Words have power, as do emotions and ideas. These things can influence others and even the world around us in ways we cannot comprehend. But wishing will not always make it so.
Along the lines of "Smile or Die," too often we put faith in the power of reason or right. "It'll all work out in the end," we assure ourselves. We (at least, people my age) grew up with Disney princesses who were beautiful and just and always got the guy in the end while saving the kingdom, Power Rangers who were granted magical powers to do righteous battle with the slimy forces of evil, and our parents and teachers telling us "you can be anything you want when you grow up;" even Pokemon is a story about an ordinary kid beating the odds and saving the world from injustice. And because we were kids the adults around us would have been foolish to let on that the world isn't always shiny and fair, because we would have thrown hissy fits.
But now I see people my age and older buying into the childlike delusion that "everything will be alright." I don't mean to sound pessimistic; there is good in the world (I suppose depending on how you define "good"), and most people could benefit from a little positive thinking. I accept the evidence for the placebo effect, and I believe that the right attitude can help you fight disease. Well, its effectiveness has been demonstrated. Many forms of Eastern Asian medicine talk about chi. I call it the fifth element. But if you have chronic bronchitis, or stomach cancer, or hepatitis, it's not a miracle cure. Just thought I'd mention this.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you wish on that shooting star and click your heels together and imagine a better world, the world is not going to get better unless you get up and do something about it.
More thoughts on positive thinking (no pun intended)...
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
"Hallelujah" part III
For the purposes of this analysis (to keep things simple) I will refer to the singer as W (woman) and the singer's lover (who I believe is the intended audience) as M (man). I'm going to do this in a few installments, because otherwise it's ridiculously long.
Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
It’s not a cry you can hear at night
It’s not somebody who's seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
More questioning of faith. W (the singer) is apparently not enamored with the religion set out in popular doctrine. This is also addressed in the next line, when she references Church teachings that "God is love" and such, saying that she didn't really learn anything useful from these teachings except how to duck out of a relationship before getting stung. A "quit before they can fire you" mentality. Somewhat defeatist, in my opinion. Then again, the whole reference to love and learning could have to do with the more immediate experience of romantic love, and implies again that she's been hurt in relationships before and is not eager to undergo more pain. Again the line "a cold and... broken Hallelujah," presumably used to describe "love," whatever that is. The lines immediately preceding are just further emphasizing the last line, crying that love is not benevolent and transcendental. (I'm feeling wordy today; can you tell?)
You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Again this seems a religious reference. Perhaps to the hypocrisy of religion, "teaching" love without feeling it. This verse really resonates with me, as it describes the individuality of faith. W's concept of divinity is different from M's, so her "name" is not his. Furthermore (in the third line) why does he care? Her faith is her own, her ideas personal, and her thoughts her right. The next two lines suggest the power of language and its ability to express feelings and ideas beyond just consonants and vowels. The last two lines seem like a dismissal of M; "it doesn't matter to me what you think because you're outta here."
I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
W is tired of arguing, and it really doesn't matter anyway what M says. She's done. She'd fallen out of love before this, but for the sake of harmony she held onto the relationship. Because of that she has no regrets, and she can stand before the Lord of Song without shame. The "Lord of Song" could refer to a god, to Death, or just to some amorphous ruling power (like human conscience), so it's a reference to a sort of judgement by that higher power. And she will stand dignified.
Is W's whole hang-up on religion just a metaphor for her romantic relationship with M? I think it could be interpreted as such, and W's rocky relationship with divinity as a metaphor for her crumbling relationship with M. Or the other way around, I suppose. Either way, I still very much like the song. Thanks for reading!
Sunday, January 9, 2011
"Hallelujah" part I
For the purposes of this analysis (to keep things simple) I will refer to the singer as W (woman) and the singer's lover (who I believe is the intended audience) as M (man). I'm going to do this in a few installments, because otherwise it's ridiculously long.
part II
part III
I really like the song "Hallelujah"by Leonard Cohen. I first heard a cover by k.d. lang on her album Hymns of the 49th Parallel, and, from the first time I listened to it, it just caught me. I've mentioned how I like minor keys, and it's interesting that this isn't in a minor key but it feels like one. Besides the melody, the lyrics are enigmatic, and I really haven't ever thought about them before now. I've been hearing a lot of covers of it lately--it seems to have enjoyed a sort of resurgence, if there was a "surgence" to begin with--and I had a friend mention it, unprompted by me, while riding in the car one day. I've heard it done by k.d.lang, Justin Timberlake, and Rufus Wainwright, to name a few. It has some visceral appeal, some enchanting aspect that draws the listener in. In my opinion, it deserves a critical look.
Before I start, I encourage you to listen to it first, maybe even a few times. Just so that you feel the draw, so that you've heard it unencumbered by my thoughts on meaning. @ YouTube (NB I like k.d. lang's version, but just search for it and you'll find a few different covers.)
"You" seems to be directed at M, perhaps an unfaithful lover. This verse is about music, a specific melody, but it never shows up again in the later lyrics. What's the significance of David? Obviously David is the Biblical king David, and I suppose he's baffled. He is supposed to have composed many of the psalms in the Book of Psalms, and is sometimes referred to [in the JCBible] as "beloved of the songs of Israel." Many of the songs are even directed to Yahweh, so W is asking something of her god. But some of the psalms also describe events in David's life; Psalm 34 describes David's escape from King Abimelech. He "changed his behaviour" (acted insane) and Abimelech sent him away. The psalm itself is directed first to JCGod and then to potential followers of JCGod. So perhaps the "secret chord" that David played is not something he composed at all, but the course of his life and actions. JCGod certainly was pleased with David. So the next question: why is he "baffled?" This could be referring to the human condition, and the whole not-being-omniscient thing that leads to mistakes and confusion. So maybe "baffled" just refers to the fact that David was human, and this verse is trying to emphasize that even imperfect humans can reach a level of peace with the divine.
Is the "faith" in this verse Christian faith? I think it probably is, just because of the prevalence of Christianity (and the tendency of really all religions to think of theirs as the faith); I of course choose to consider it in a more universal sense. What's interesting here is that faith and proof are, well, mutually exclusive. The whole idea of faith is that there is no proof, even that proof is impossible. This is perhaps implying that the faith in this occasion is false, a mask or a meaningless totem to cling to. Is this a condemnation of the M, that they are false and need proof in order to love? In a sense, unable to love unconditionally?
So who is "she?" "She" is apparently a violent entity. That she's bathing the first time she's mentioned minds me of pagan goddesses like Artemis (among others). In one myth Artemis is "accidentally" stumbled upon bathing in the forest by the young hunter Actaeon; she turns him into a stag and his own hounds fall upon him and kill him (differing versions exist). (Another thing that implies Artemis: "the moonlight.") The rest of the verse suggests that whoever "she" is, she cuts M down to size, humbling him. It suggests hubris on the lover's part (the throne), and the ancient gods loved nothing more than punishing hubris. The "hair" line probably somehow refers to many societies' belief that the hair holds strength or power (JCBible Samson, Mongol, Native American, Celtic, Mesoamerican culture) and that cutting it would strip the owner of that power.
part II
part III
I really like the song "Hallelujah"by Leonard Cohen. I first heard a cover by k.d. lang on her album Hymns of the 49th Parallel, and, from the first time I listened to it, it just caught me. I've mentioned how I like minor keys, and it's interesting that this isn't in a minor key but it feels like one. Besides the melody, the lyrics are enigmatic, and I really haven't ever thought about them before now. I've been hearing a lot of covers of it lately--it seems to have enjoyed a sort of resurgence, if there was a "surgence" to begin with--and I had a friend mention it, unprompted by me, while riding in the car one day. I've heard it done by k.d.lang, Justin Timberlake, and Rufus Wainwright, to name a few. It has some visceral appeal, some enchanting aspect that draws the listener in. In my opinion, it deserves a critical look.
Before I start, I encourage you to listen to it first, maybe even a few times. Just so that you feel the draw, so that you've heard it unencumbered by my thoughts on meaning. @ YouTube (NB I like k.d. lang's version, but just search for it and you'll find a few different covers.)
"Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah"
"You" seems to be directed at M, perhaps an unfaithful lover. This verse is about music, a specific melody, but it never shows up again in the later lyrics. What's the significance of David? Obviously David is the Biblical king David, and I suppose he's baffled. He is supposed to have composed many of the psalms in the Book of Psalms, and is sometimes referred to [in the JCBible] as "beloved of the songs of Israel." Many of the songs are even directed to Yahweh, so W is asking something of her god. But some of the psalms also describe events in David's life; Psalm 34 describes David's escape from King Abimelech. He "changed his behaviour" (acted insane) and Abimelech sent him away. The psalm itself is directed first to JCGod and then to potential followers of JCGod. So perhaps the "secret chord" that David played is not something he composed at all, but the course of his life and actions. JCGod certainly was pleased with David. So the next question: why is he "baffled?" This could be referring to the human condition, and the whole not-being-omniscient thing that leads to mistakes and confusion. So maybe "baffled" just refers to the fact that David was human, and this verse is trying to emphasize that even imperfect humans can reach a level of peace with the divine.
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Is the "faith" in this verse Christian faith? I think it probably is, just because of the prevalence of Christianity (and the tendency of really all religions to think of theirs as the faith); I of course choose to consider it in a more universal sense. What's interesting here is that faith and proof are, well, mutually exclusive. The whole idea of faith is that there is no proof, even that proof is impossible. This is perhaps implying that the faith in this occasion is false, a mask or a meaningless totem to cling to. Is this a condemnation of the M, that they are false and need proof in order to love? In a sense, unable to love unconditionally?
So who is "she?" "She" is apparently a violent entity. That she's bathing the first time she's mentioned minds me of pagan goddesses like Artemis (among others). In one myth Artemis is "accidentally" stumbled upon bathing in the forest by the young hunter Actaeon; she turns him into a stag and his own hounds fall upon him and kill him (differing versions exist). (Another thing that implies Artemis: "the moonlight.") The rest of the verse suggests that whoever "she" is, she cuts M down to size, humbling him. It suggests hubris on the lover's part (the throne), and the ancient gods loved nothing more than punishing hubris. The "hair" line probably somehow refers to many societies' belief that the hair holds strength or power (JCBible Samson, Mongol, Native American, Celtic, Mesoamerican culture) and that cutting it would strip the owner of that power.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
A Lack of Dentary Sagacity: Are Wisdom Teeth Wise?
Got my wisdom teeth out yesterday. Frickin' wisdom teeth; nothing wise about 'em. An artifact of evolution. Adult humans have 32 teeth (including the wisdom teeth). These wisdom teeth are presumably so-named because they erupt around the late teens, when humans supposedly become "wise" or some such thing. Maybe naming them that is some sort of wry humor, a rite of passage, as only those with forbearance enough to survive to that [in some eras and some cultures, advanced] age deserve to gain the "wisdom" teeth.
At any rate, they're pretty useless, even detrimental. For instance, the biggest factor in my finally getting mine out was that my dentist informed me that the lower teeth, now peeking through, left nooks and crannies where food could get stuck and promote an abscess.
The reason they couldn't make it all the way through and make it to the normal, un-threatening teeth stage? Because I, like the majority of modern humans, don't have a long enough jaw to accomodate them. "Then why are they there?" you inquire. Well, they're there because evolution is a process, not a guide; there is no "invisible hand" with some sort of foresight seeing the probability that our faces would get shorter and spontaneously ridding us of those annoying third molars that don't fit. Some thousands of years ago, those third molars did fit. Think of a dog's jaw, or some similarly-snouted animal. 32 human-sized teeth in the jaw of a dog with vaguely similar cranial measurements would fit nicely (an oversimplification, I know, but bear with me). And the dog would have space for those 28 teeth, plus those blasted wisdom teeth because... (wait for it)... he has a long muzzle. Might not seem like much but consider this: we have the shortest faces of any in the vertebrates (I would venture) and we are the only ones with extra teeth. Wait, let me check that... yeah, pretty much. Most telling is that other vertebrates have these same third molars but they fit. A distinguishing characteristic of primates is the shortened face, especially as you move into the apes.
Just a quick aside; this is not (gods forbid) to cast humans or apes in any sort of "superior" role with respect to the rest of Animalia. This is simply an academic distinction between mammalian/vertebrate/chordate/animal lineages and one of them just happens to be Homo sapiens.
Still with me? Good. In that vein I would like to address creationism (more like rip it apart into itty bitty pieces but ah well, we can't have everything). I just have one point to make at this juncture: why would an intelligent designer give us these pointless, potentially harmful teeth? Among other things [that identify us as humans]... bigger brains means bigger skulls, leading to more hazardous childbirth; standing on two legs leads to numerous lower body joint problems, especially spine problems; a specialized laryngeal apparatus grants the power of speech but greatly increases the risk of choking, necessitating the chewing of food which in its turn causes myriad jaw problems, and now we're back to teeth.
So all this boils down to one thing: my mouth hurts and I'm pissed.
At any rate, they're pretty useless, even detrimental. For instance, the biggest factor in my finally getting mine out was that my dentist informed me that the lower teeth, now peeking through, left nooks and crannies where food could get stuck and promote an abscess.
The reason they couldn't make it all the way through and make it to the normal, un-threatening teeth stage? Because I, like the majority of modern humans, don't have a long enough jaw to accomodate them. "Then why are they there?" you inquire. Well, they're there because evolution is a process, not a guide; there is no "invisible hand" with some sort of foresight seeing the probability that our faces would get shorter and spontaneously ridding us of those annoying third molars that don't fit. Some thousands of years ago, those third molars did fit. Think of a dog's jaw, or some similarly-snouted animal. 32 human-sized teeth in the jaw of a dog with vaguely similar cranial measurements would fit nicely (an oversimplification, I know, but bear with me). And the dog would have space for those 28 teeth, plus those blasted wisdom teeth because... (wait for it)... he has a long muzzle. Might not seem like much but consider this: we have the shortest faces of any in the vertebrates (I would venture) and we are the only ones with extra teeth. Wait, let me check that... yeah, pretty much. Most telling is that other vertebrates have these same third molars but they fit. A distinguishing characteristic of primates is the shortened face, especially as you move into the apes.
Just a quick aside; this is not (gods forbid) to cast humans or apes in any sort of "superior" role with respect to the rest of Animalia. This is simply an academic distinction between mammalian/vertebrate/chordate/animal lineages and one of them just happens to be Homo sapiens.
Still with me? Good. In that vein I would like to address creationism (more like rip it apart into itty bitty pieces but ah well, we can't have everything). I just have one point to make at this juncture: why would an intelligent designer give us these pointless, potentially harmful teeth? Among other things [that identify us as humans]... bigger brains means bigger skulls, leading to more hazardous childbirth; standing on two legs leads to numerous lower body joint problems, especially spine problems; a specialized laryngeal apparatus grants the power of speech but greatly increases the risk of choking, necessitating the chewing of food which in its turn causes myriad jaw problems, and now we're back to teeth.
So all this boils down to one thing: my mouth hurts and I'm pissed.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Songs in the Key of Dreams
Sorry I haven't been writing lately, but I have been having a rough time of it. School is wicked and it's Yule season and everything's crazy and such. Hopefully I will be writing more, as that usually is cathartic for me anyway.
So I've been listening to a lot of Christmas carols and seasonal music. Yes, I listen to Christmas music, even the sacred stuff. Well, I grew up with it, and since it's harder to unlearn something than to learn it I listen to a lot of Christmas music. Besides, music can have different meaning for me; my whole family is all about the music. I was thinking about this yesterday, about how I grew up with music all around me and as such an important part of every day, whether it be singing, listening, or playing. I was at my dad's house the other day and though I've noticed the radio in every room before it really occurred to me the reason for a radio (sometimes multiple, and often portable so you'll never be without sound wherever you go in the apartment) in every room. Yesterday my housemates and I were singing Christmas music in the car and I knew more of the words than anyone else.
What I'm trying to get at is music is just that to me: music. Yeah, I take issue with the words sometimes (I almost erased all my music with a reference to "God," "Lord," or "Jesus" yesterday because I was so fed up with it), but music is about the music to me, not the lyrics. And going back to the whole "I grew up with it" thing, a lot of the melodies really resonate with me. Many Christmas carols are quite beautiful, and if you actually listen to the lyrics they often sound like a hasty translation (which they probably are) and they sound very hurried and artificial, like someone needed to fill space. Short story: the lyrics suck. Not all the time (I love "Angels We Have Heard on High) but often they feel forced (first line of "Three Kings"); in the end it's really all about the melody. And the best melodies (in my opinion) are in a minor key.
As young as 3 I felt the magic of minor (bc I told my mom I liked "Carol of the Bells" because it sounds "sad"). Are you ever listening to something and you get a chill down your spine as all the hair on your arms stand up? Does music ever make your heart ache and sing along, like you're pining for a perfect home you knew once but not for many years? It feels like being in love but far away, like seeing your little cottage on the shore while in the surf in a little skiff and the tide is hurrying you out to sea. I can only compare it to how I feel, and my dreams usually have a faery-tale theme, full of castles and queens and knights and ladies and chivalry and honor and adventures. And princesses, obviously. "Gawain and the Green Knight" kind of stuff.
It's not just Christmas music that feels like magic. It's mostly stuff in minor keys, but pretty much anything Celtic does it for me. I can see the trees, dappled with emerald sunlight, the colors dark under the canopy, the surety of faeries in the sparkling air. I listen to music for the chance to hear magic from songs in the key of dreams.
So I've been listening to a lot of Christmas carols and seasonal music. Yes, I listen to Christmas music, even the sacred stuff. Well, I grew up with it, and since it's harder to unlearn something than to learn it I listen to a lot of Christmas music. Besides, music can have different meaning for me; my whole family is all about the music. I was thinking about this yesterday, about how I grew up with music all around me and as such an important part of every day, whether it be singing, listening, or playing. I was at my dad's house the other day and though I've noticed the radio in every room before it really occurred to me the reason for a radio (sometimes multiple, and often portable so you'll never be without sound wherever you go in the apartment) in every room. Yesterday my housemates and I were singing Christmas music in the car and I knew more of the words than anyone else.
What I'm trying to get at is music is just that to me: music. Yeah, I take issue with the words sometimes (I almost erased all my music with a reference to "God," "Lord," or "Jesus" yesterday because I was so fed up with it), but music is about the music to me, not the lyrics. And going back to the whole "I grew up with it" thing, a lot of the melodies really resonate with me. Many Christmas carols are quite beautiful, and if you actually listen to the lyrics they often sound like a hasty translation (which they probably are) and they sound very hurried and artificial, like someone needed to fill space. Short story: the lyrics suck. Not all the time (I love "Angels We Have Heard on High) but often they feel forced (first line of "Three Kings"); in the end it's really all about the melody. And the best melodies (in my opinion) are in a minor key.
As young as 3 I felt the magic of minor (bc I told my mom I liked "Carol of the Bells" because it sounds "sad"). Are you ever listening to something and you get a chill down your spine as all the hair on your arms stand up? Does music ever make your heart ache and sing along, like you're pining for a perfect home you knew once but not for many years? It feels like being in love but far away, like seeing your little cottage on the shore while in the surf in a little skiff and the tide is hurrying you out to sea. I can only compare it to how I feel, and my dreams usually have a faery-tale theme, full of castles and queens and knights and ladies and chivalry and honor and adventures. And princesses, obviously. "Gawain and the Green Knight" kind of stuff.
It's not just Christmas music that feels like magic. It's mostly stuff in minor keys, but pretty much anything Celtic does it for me. I can see the trees, dappled with emerald sunlight, the colors dark under the canopy, the surety of faeries in the sparkling air. I listen to music for the chance to hear magic from songs in the key of dreams.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Hey Look, It's Thanksgiving
I like thanksgiving. I like hanging out with family, I like the time off from school, I like the food... Yeah, it's pretty cool. Well, except for the whole "giving thanks" thing. If you haven't noticed, I get pretty hung up on the whole "higher power" thing, and the idea of thanking this invisible pink unicorn for stuff when really we all deserve the credit just burns me. But this is not a rant (notice how it's not under "rants") and I want it to be positive. So here goes...
I would like to thank my mother. For basically everything. You really want a list? Okay, here's a list: she feeds me, she clothes me, she gives me a place to sleep, she sends me to school, she buys me random presents, she bakes yummy stuff for me and my roommates, she gives me hugs, I can call her in the middle of the school day to bitch about some random classmate that bugs me, I can call her in the middle of the night if I wake up in a panic, she tries to understand all of my oddities, she listens to me when I go off on rants, she listens to me when I talk about science even though her eyes glaze over a bit, she trusts me enough to talk to me about how she's feeling, she trusts me enough to leave me the house when she's traveling the world, she respects that my world revolves around horses and dogs even though hers doesn't, she doesn't yell at me when I come home covered in mud, she would kiss my boo-boos if I needed it, she lets me tell her if her outfit is heinous, she tells me if my outfit is heinous, I could call her fifty times a day and she'd only screen my calls if she knew I was panicking and digging myself in deeper, she would know if I was panicking and digging myself in deeper, she does most anything to see me smile, she puts up with my high-strung terrier because she knows I love him, she only nags me about getting a summer job occasionally, she'll eat lunch at Panera bread three days in a row because I want to, she'll drive me endlessly back and forth from the stables, she lets me borrow her socks, she raises and eyebrow at chocolate cream pie that I snuck into the grocery cart but doesn't take it out, I can send her my unfinished essay and she'll read it and give me pointers over the phone, she gets me tshirts with owls on them whenever she sees them, she doesn't freak out when I curse (usually), she helps me run around in a panic to get everything ready for a ceremony, she puts up with my perfectionism, she calls me on my perfectionism, she helps me organize things when I'm freaking out about schoolwork at midnight, she doesn't pretend I was a perfect child... let's see; what else? Oh: she loves me unconditionally and she will always love me and I'm pretty sure she has loved me forever despite the fact that she only learned of my existence twenty-odd years ago (it has to do with the multiverse).
I would like to thank my grandparents; all of them, but one set in particular. The list is basically the same, though the specifics are different, but you get the gist. Most of all, I would like to thank my grandparents for being my second parents. They have given me a foundation to stand on, and I know that I can always come back and they'll be waiting with open arms. And they love me. Not "they love me, too" because "too" implies that it follows something, and their love does not follow; it deserves its own continent. They each deserve their own continent. Grandmasia and Grampalia.
I would like to thank my cousin. He is like my brother, and we've had our differences but we've never been closer than we are now. I want to thank him for his success; I am so proud of him and all he's accomplished, and how he's turned out to be a really great person despite all the adversity in his life. I want to thank him for being cool with the fact that I'm crazy, and being okay with me thinking he' s crazy too. I mean, everyone's crazy, but we're special.
The rest of the thanks are pretty general; there were just some outstanding ones. You know how it is. I would like to thank everyone I've known for making me who I am today. I'm still here so it can't be all bad... I would like to thank everyone in my family for everything they are. I would like to thank all of my classmates for everything they are (yes all of them). I would like to thank the academy. I would like to thank all of my teachers, especially some really great kindergarten and high school teachers.
So there you have it; not a complete list but I don't think I'd actually be able to put the real list down in time for thanksgiving in ten years. This guy sorta sums it up pretty well. So that's my challenge to you: this thanksgiving, seek out the real people in your life and let them know that they have the credit. And enjoy the time you have with the people you love; that's the most important thing in the world.
Happy Thanksgiving! ~argent wolfwing
I would like to thank my mother. For basically everything. You really want a list? Okay, here's a list: she feeds me, she clothes me, she gives me a place to sleep, she sends me to school, she buys me random presents, she bakes yummy stuff for me and my roommates, she gives me hugs, I can call her in the middle of the school day to bitch about some random classmate that bugs me, I can call her in the middle of the night if I wake up in a panic, she tries to understand all of my oddities, she listens to me when I go off on rants, she listens to me when I talk about science even though her eyes glaze over a bit, she trusts me enough to talk to me about how she's feeling, she trusts me enough to leave me the house when she's traveling the world, she respects that my world revolves around horses and dogs even though hers doesn't, she doesn't yell at me when I come home covered in mud, she would kiss my boo-boos if I needed it, she lets me tell her if her outfit is heinous, she tells me if my outfit is heinous, I could call her fifty times a day and she'd only screen my calls if she knew I was panicking and digging myself in deeper, she would know if I was panicking and digging myself in deeper, she does most anything to see me smile, she puts up with my high-strung terrier because she knows I love him, she only nags me about getting a summer job occasionally, she'll eat lunch at Panera bread three days in a row because I want to, she'll drive me endlessly back and forth from the stables, she lets me borrow her socks, she raises and eyebrow at chocolate cream pie that I snuck into the grocery cart but doesn't take it out, I can send her my unfinished essay and she'll read it and give me pointers over the phone, she gets me tshirts with owls on them whenever she sees them, she doesn't freak out when I curse (usually), she helps me run around in a panic to get everything ready for a ceremony, she puts up with my perfectionism, she calls me on my perfectionism, she helps me organize things when I'm freaking out about schoolwork at midnight, she doesn't pretend I was a perfect child... let's see; what else? Oh: she loves me unconditionally and she will always love me and I'm pretty sure she has loved me forever despite the fact that she only learned of my existence twenty-odd years ago (it has to do with the multiverse).
I would like to thank my grandparents; all of them, but one set in particular. The list is basically the same, though the specifics are different, but you get the gist. Most of all, I would like to thank my grandparents for being my second parents. They have given me a foundation to stand on, and I know that I can always come back and they'll be waiting with open arms. And they love me. Not "they love me, too" because "too" implies that it follows something, and their love does not follow; it deserves its own continent. They each deserve their own continent. Grandmasia and Grampalia.
I would like to thank my cousin. He is like my brother, and we've had our differences but we've never been closer than we are now. I want to thank him for his success; I am so proud of him and all he's accomplished, and how he's turned out to be a really great person despite all the adversity in his life. I want to thank him for being cool with the fact that I'm crazy, and being okay with me thinking he' s crazy too. I mean, everyone's crazy, but we're special.
The rest of the thanks are pretty general; there were just some outstanding ones. You know how it is. I would like to thank everyone I've known for making me who I am today. I'm still here so it can't be all bad... I would like to thank everyone in my family for everything they are. I would like to thank all of my classmates for everything they are (yes all of them). I would like to thank the academy. I would like to thank all of my teachers, especially some really great kindergarten and high school teachers.
So there you have it; not a complete list but I don't think I'd actually be able to put the real list down in time for thanksgiving in ten years. This guy sorta sums it up pretty well. So that's my challenge to you: this thanksgiving, seek out the real people in your life and let them know that they have the credit. And enjoy the time you have with the people you love; that's the most important thing in the world.
Happy Thanksgiving! ~argent wolfwing
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Mind Control: Who's Really in Charge?
I often wonder: who's running the show? Is it me, or my mind? Or are we the same?
I don't think we are. I mean, if we were, there would be no issue of control. If my thoughts were intrinsic in myself, I wouldn't have to school them. This lends to my thoughts on the separation of the mind and body; our bodies do stuff we don't want them to do, so our bodies must not be intrinsic, in a sense.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that when I think of a person (or really of any living thing) I think of the cooperation (or not) of three separate entities: body, mind, and (*grimace*) spirit. Soul. Whatever you want to call it. It's the fifth element (fire, air, water, earth, spirit). All five elements (and no, I'm not one of those wackjobs that denies the existence of things like calcium and helium) are in varying amounts in every living thing, so yes, every living thing has a soul. My soul is me. I am my soul. The body is a shell, and to an extent the mind is, too. We tack a possessive adjective in front of these things: my body, my mind, my thoughts and feelings and ideas. I know the possessive thing doesn't always work, because we say things like my soul, but my point is that I can have/own/possess a body and a mind, but I am a soul. (Incidentally, next time someone tells you you're soulless, you can agree with them. Just a thought.) Think of old sailors talking about seafaring; you know how when a ship sinks they talk about how many souls were lost?
Enough semantics; semantics and arguing about words is so much fun I often get carried away. (sarcastic: "Really?") This is important to me, so much so that I've spent many an hour lost in my head, thinking about the separation of mind, body, and soul. Theoretically, if something (like spirit) was me, it would be completely under my control. (Better:) I wouldn't have to tell it what to do. There are a lot of things going on in my body and my mind that I don't know about or at least aren't consciously controlling; if you think about it that way, it's extremely fortunate for us that our bodies and minds aren't us. For instance, I'm a biology major and so I have to learn about all the millions of molecular and cellular processes going on in our various tissues at any given time. On many occasions I've thought to myself: "Isn't it a good thing that I don't need to know how my body works in order to live?" Essentially, I'd have to understand every single cellular process and remember everything perfectly if I was going to go about consciously controlling my body. Think of it like a construction site; if I was the foreman, I wouldn't want to have to know everything, and I probably wouldn't. I'd have a few electrical engineers, some lumber specialists, and some guys who know all about building the framework and struts, and I wouldn't have to micromanage because they'd be able to operate independently, but in concert with all the other workers. Read: I'd be totally screwed if my bodies was me. So try to wrap your mind around the statement that our bodies and our minds are just that: our bodies and our minds, not us. (I'll wait.)
Ready? Okay, next question: am I in control of my mind, or is it the other way around? My answer: both.
What an answer, right? But psychologists and doctors and the guy down the street acknowledge the existence of two minds: the conscious and the unconscious (okay maybe not the guy down the street, but he also wears tinfoil hats, so...). And the unconscious mind is defined [in some cases] as the stuff we don't even know about, much less control. So wouldn't it be reasonable to jump from "I don't control it" to "it controls me?" I think so. That of course assumes that there has to be some controller somewhere in the equation, and I think that it's mine (not a part of me, as we already went over).
Well sometimes it is me, I think. When an issue is under the purview of my conscious mind, it's in my control. Therefore I--the soul--am controlling it.
Sum it up, you say? Okay: I don't think anything can be put in a box. I think that everything falls somewhere on a spectrum. So any thought, any action is a blend of conscious and unconscious. Nothing is certain.
I don't think we are. I mean, if we were, there would be no issue of control. If my thoughts were intrinsic in myself, I wouldn't have to school them. This lends to my thoughts on the separation of the mind and body; our bodies do stuff we don't want them to do, so our bodies must not be intrinsic, in a sense.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that when I think of a person (or really of any living thing) I think of the cooperation (or not) of three separate entities: body, mind, and (*grimace*) spirit. Soul. Whatever you want to call it. It's the fifth element (fire, air, water, earth, spirit). All five elements (and no, I'm not one of those wackjobs that denies the existence of things like calcium and helium) are in varying amounts in every living thing, so yes, every living thing has a soul. My soul is me. I am my soul. The body is a shell, and to an extent the mind is, too. We tack a possessive adjective in front of these things: my body, my mind, my thoughts and feelings and ideas. I know the possessive thing doesn't always work, because we say things like my soul, but my point is that I can have/own/possess a body and a mind, but I am a soul. (Incidentally, next time someone tells you you're soulless, you can agree with them. Just a thought.) Think of old sailors talking about seafaring; you know how when a ship sinks they talk about how many souls were lost?
Enough semantics; semantics and arguing about words is so much fun I often get carried away. (sarcastic: "Really?") This is important to me, so much so that I've spent many an hour lost in my head, thinking about the separation of mind, body, and soul. Theoretically, if something (like spirit) was me, it would be completely under my control. (Better:) I wouldn't have to tell it what to do. There are a lot of things going on in my body and my mind that I don't know about or at least aren't consciously controlling; if you think about it that way, it's extremely fortunate for us that our bodies and minds aren't us. For instance, I'm a biology major and so I have to learn about all the millions of molecular and cellular processes going on in our various tissues at any given time. On many occasions I've thought to myself: "Isn't it a good thing that I don't need to know how my body works in order to live?" Essentially, I'd have to understand every single cellular process and remember everything perfectly if I was going to go about consciously controlling my body. Think of it like a construction site; if I was the foreman, I wouldn't want to have to know everything, and I probably wouldn't. I'd have a few electrical engineers, some lumber specialists, and some guys who know all about building the framework and struts, and I wouldn't have to micromanage because they'd be able to operate independently, but in concert with all the other workers. Read: I'd be totally screwed if my bodies was me. So try to wrap your mind around the statement that our bodies and our minds are just that: our bodies and our minds, not us. (I'll wait.)
Ready? Okay, next question: am I in control of my mind, or is it the other way around? My answer: both.
What an answer, right? But psychologists and doctors and the guy down the street acknowledge the existence of two minds: the conscious and the unconscious (okay maybe not the guy down the street, but he also wears tinfoil hats, so...). And the unconscious mind is defined [in some cases] as the stuff we don't even know about, much less control. So wouldn't it be reasonable to jump from "I don't control it" to "it controls me?" I think so. That of course assumes that there has to be some controller somewhere in the equation, and I think that it's mine (not a part of me, as we already went over).
Well sometimes it is me, I think. When an issue is under the purview of my conscious mind, it's in my control. Therefore I--the soul--am controlling it.
Sum it up, you say? Okay: I don't think anything can be put in a box. I think that everything falls somewhere on a spectrum. So any thought, any action is a blend of conscious and unconscious. Nothing is certain.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
i started talking about intelligence, and then my thoughts went on a walk
At dinner, my roommate (J) said this:
Quote: Intelligence does not exist. End quote.
Then she said it again. Four more times.
J says that everyone possesses the same capacity to learn, and that if, for instance, someone has trouble with algebra it's not because they can't solve algebra problems but because they don't have the time/motivation/perserverence to solve algebra problems. She mentions a case study in which two classrooms full of kids were each given easy puzzles. When they completed the puzzles, the teacher in one room congratulated them, saying they must be smart, while the other teacher congratulated the students on how hard they must have worked. When they moved on to harder puzzles the classroom full of kids who had been told that they worked hard outperformed the kids who had been told they were smart; more, they enjoyed the challenge. Finally, the kids were given easy puzzles again. The "hard working" students enjoyed the puzzles, completed them quickly and easily, and even wanted to take some of the puzzles home to work on them. The "smart" students did badly on the puzzles, even though they were at the same level as the first set of puzzles; furthermore, they did not enjoy these puzzles. This study shows that everyone can perform equally well, and that even a small turn of phrase has power on a person's "intelligence."
I talked about the power (and its flip, the lack of power) of words earlier, although in a different context. But really, the context is the same in the end. I think the confusing part about my assertion that words are not powerful if they are not given power is that in many situations we do not have the power ourselves to deny words power. Let me try to clarify that. I said that words don't have power unless the hearer gives them power (eg hurtful words are only hurtful to those who are hurt by them). But there is (I think) a general consensus that our emotions are not under our control, or perhaps our conscious control. Whether or not we have the strength to consciously dictate our own emotions, we do affect them. We are in control of them.
A lot of times it doesn't seem like it. I have a lot of experience with emotions getting out of control, for better or [mostly] worse. I have long struggled with severe depression, and while I have never actually attempted to kill myself, I've gotten pretty damn close and used to think about doing it every day. I will be the first to admit (advertise, shout on the rooftops...) that I do not always have conscious control of my emotions.
The difference in my way of thinking is that "control" is not synonymous with conscious decision. (Maybe more on control later...) But because the human is the one "having" the emotions, they [the emotions] are within one being. They are internal, though they can and often do have external effects. I think we can all agree (maybe? plz?) that we cannot share emotions, in the sense that even if two people are having similar emotions (because by this logic no one can have the same emotions) they are each having their own separate emotions, not some sort of group emotion.
So, let me try to bring it back to intelligence. I totally agree with J's interpretation of the case study, but I'm not so sure about her assertion that "intelligence" as a concept does not exist. A concept? By definition, a concept exists. I guess she's talking about the nonexistence of "intelligence" as... What is intelligence? Wow. J says that she is equating "intelligence" with "IQ." IQ is certainly changeable, and totally bunk as a method of measuring "intelligence." But in light of that (my immediately proceeding statement) I do not equate "intelligence" with "IQ." (see Beyond IQ and IQ Paradox @ SciAm) Hmmm. I guess I believe that intelligence exists, but I define it differently. As with everything, I believe that intelligence is relative.
I shall revisit these subjects at a later date, but for now... physics...
Quote: Intelligence does not exist. End quote.
Then she said it again. Four more times.
J says that everyone possesses the same capacity to learn, and that if, for instance, someone has trouble with algebra it's not because they can't solve algebra problems but because they don't have the time/motivation/perserverence to solve algebra problems. She mentions a case study in which two classrooms full of kids were each given easy puzzles. When they completed the puzzles, the teacher in one room congratulated them, saying they must be smart, while the other teacher congratulated the students on how hard they must have worked. When they moved on to harder puzzles the classroom full of kids who had been told that they worked hard outperformed the kids who had been told they were smart; more, they enjoyed the challenge. Finally, the kids were given easy puzzles again. The "hard working" students enjoyed the puzzles, completed them quickly and easily, and even wanted to take some of the puzzles home to work on them. The "smart" students did badly on the puzzles, even though they were at the same level as the first set of puzzles; furthermore, they did not enjoy these puzzles. This study shows that everyone can perform equally well, and that even a small turn of phrase has power on a person's "intelligence."
I talked about the power (and its flip, the lack of power) of words earlier, although in a different context. But really, the context is the same in the end. I think the confusing part about my assertion that words are not powerful if they are not given power is that in many situations we do not have the power ourselves to deny words power. Let me try to clarify that. I said that words don't have power unless the hearer gives them power (eg hurtful words are only hurtful to those who are hurt by them). But there is (I think) a general consensus that our emotions are not under our control, or perhaps our conscious control. Whether or not we have the strength to consciously dictate our own emotions, we do affect them. We are in control of them.
A lot of times it doesn't seem like it. I have a lot of experience with emotions getting out of control, for better or [mostly] worse. I have long struggled with severe depression, and while I have never actually attempted to kill myself, I've gotten pretty damn close and used to think about doing it every day. I will be the first to admit (advertise, shout on the rooftops...) that I do not always have conscious control of my emotions.
The difference in my way of thinking is that "control" is not synonymous with conscious decision. (Maybe more on control later...) But because the human is the one "having" the emotions, they [the emotions] are within one being. They are internal, though they can and often do have external effects. I think we can all agree (maybe? plz?) that we cannot share emotions, in the sense that even if two people are having similar emotions (because by this logic no one can have the same emotions) they are each having their own separate emotions, not some sort of group emotion.
So, let me try to bring it back to intelligence. I totally agree with J's interpretation of the case study, but I'm not so sure about her assertion that "intelligence" as a concept does not exist. A concept? By definition, a concept exists. I guess she's talking about the nonexistence of "intelligence" as... What is intelligence? Wow. J says that she is equating "intelligence" with "IQ." IQ is certainly changeable, and totally bunk as a method of measuring "intelligence." But in light of that (my immediately proceeding statement) I do not equate "intelligence" with "IQ." (see Beyond IQ and IQ Paradox @ SciAm) Hmmm. I guess I believe that intelligence exists, but I define it differently. As with everything, I believe that intelligence is relative.
I shall revisit these subjects at a later date, but for now... physics...
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sticks and Stones Will Break My Bones, But Words' Wounds Cut Deeper
Words have only the power they are allowed. That is not to say that anyone in particular is in control. Words meant to hurt can hurt, but only if who recieves them is hurt. This is the basic idea: words only have the power you, personally, ascribe to them.
Gods can hear our words. Gods are not energy, I think; rather, gods are like light, and have a dual nature (rays and particles, eg). They are affected by our words, but only as living beings (for what are gods but physical? manifestations of life?). That's why gods can't affect you if you don't believe in them; the only change they can offer is in words, and words we don't believe in just pass us by. But belief is far from simple. I still struggle with belief.
Gods can hear our words. Gods are not energy, I think; rather, gods are like light, and have a dual nature (rays and particles, eg). They are affected by our words, but only as living beings (for what are gods but physical? manifestations of life?). That's why gods can't affect you if you don't believe in them; the only change they can offer is in words, and words we don't believe in just pass us by. But belief is far from simple. I still struggle with belief.
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