october 1st
October 1 is my mother's birthday. She's a regular reader of this blog so feel free to send her your wishes for a happy birthday :-)
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October 1 is my mother's birthday. She's a regular reader of this blog so feel free to send her your wishes for a happy birthday :-)
Hmm...Perhaps we know too much.
From the polls, that is. I just got an email to all the new grad students, urging us to sign up as Pennsylvania voters, if we haven't already (I have). The justification was that we are in a super-duper swing state, nearly as coveted as Ohio and Florida. If you're in one of those no-swing states, they suggested, your vote is essentially worthless. We've all heard this before. But maybe we've heard it too many times before. What if too many Democrats decide that their Blue state is steadily marching towards its Democratic victory, and they decide not to vote? We may have a surprise reversal of trends, with the state turning Red, because the self-assured party was also the most apathetic party.
And in general, we don't need to be doing anything, directly or indirectly, to worsen that perception that voting is a futile act. Too many people, the young and the economically disadvantaged, especially, use this exact perception as their justification for not voting. So whether you're in a state that's "guaranteed" to choose your favorite candidate or in a state that's guaranteed to reject him, try to maintain a bit of idealism, even if it feels a little phony at times, and pretend that democracy still works.
My dad wants to share with you all a political satire that he put together. Last names have been omitted to protect the anonymity of the individual parties.
LAURA "What is it George?"
GEORGE "Well, I’m kinda nervous about the upcoming debate.
You know how I am about public speaking. Once in awhile I
say something apropos. (chuckle) I like that word—
apt pro-pole. (pause) You know I’d feel better if Dick could
do the debate for me."
LAURA "But the Vice-President has his own debate."
GEORGE "Yeah, I know. But Dick’s used to saying things I’m not allowed to
say, like if Americans elect Kerry we’ll get attacked by terrorists."
LAURA (trying another tact) "Well, George I don’t know if Dick’s heart is
up to it."
GEORGE "His heart?! Heck, it’s better than Bill Clinton’s."
LAURA "I’m sorry, but what does Clinton’s heart have to do with this?"
GEORGE "What’s he got to do with it? Well, he beat my dad in the election.
That’s another thing I got to get even for, for Dad.
And secondly, did you notice the timing of Clinton’s heart
surgery—right after my convention. Leave it to Willie to try to cut
into my convention bounce."
LAURA "You’ll do just fine George, if you remember everything Karl told
you. Now, when a question arises on the economy, you say . . . ?"
GEORGE "Steady and strong"
LAURA "And, when issues about the war are raised . . . ?"
GEORGE "Got to stay the course."
LAURA "Good. Now if the debate turns to a comparison between yours and
Kerry’s experience regarding Vietnam, you respond by saying . . .?"
GEORGE "I didn’t throw my Purple Hearts and medals of valor away. I didn’t
come back from Vietnam and criticize the war."
LAURA "Very good. And, if there is a question you’re unsure of how to
answer . . .?"
GEORGE "I switch to speaking Spanish."
LAURA "Bravo. But remember this quote from Lincoln above all else . . ."
GEORGE (interrupting) "I know. I know. You can fool some of the people
all of the time!"
We're all absent-minded and neglectful at times. Perhaps some of us more than others, but I don't think anyone is perfectly free of passive sins--for example, making a left turn and not attending to the active crosswalk to the left and nearly hittting a pedestrian (I was one of these pedestrians last week). But what I've always wondered is, if a moment of absent-mindedness occurred in the right configuration of circumstances to result in a tragedy--say the pedestrian was actually hit in these circumstances--how would the guilty individual ever live it down? How would you ever get past that, how could you ever see yourself again as something other than a piece of dirt? And yet, paradoxically, your actual behavior was no different than millions of other occasions when you experienced a mental slip (or, to add a component of responsibility here, you allowed yourself to experience a mental slip).
How do I add authors to a site? And is it possible to add an author who does not have a U of MN x500 password?
I am so awash in ignorance about so many things.
1.) Does doing a lot of reading necessarily increase nearsightness?
2.) What does 'admixture' mean? (I think it's on the GRE) Is it just a snobby way of saying 'mixture'?
3.) Do you pronounce coupon and KOO-pahn or KYOO-pahn?
Because
I do not think
Because I know
I will not know...
(Eliot/Ash Wednesday)
I'm not thinking anymore.
Sad but true. A mere month, if that, into 'gradual school' (I once heard someone, completely unintentionally, utter that perfect Freudian slip when referring to graduate school) and I'm already losing the capacity for disciplined thought. I'm learning a lot about cognition, but I'm sure not doing much real cogitating.
I cite many reasons for my mental demise. First is the corrupting influence of my narrow goal structure (sadly, I'm automatically envisioning this all in terms of brain structures. I wish I could stop doing that). Anyways, the idea is that I'm focusing more on quantity than quality--try to get as much of the reading done as I can, without always thinking too well about what I'm reading. Or in terms of research--get a project up and running, get the logistics of it down, theory and whatnot comes later. And so on. In essence my pragmatism is trumping my more contemplative side.
But there's also the fact that very quickly my head is just getting too full, and is pulled in too many different directions. Only part of that is attributable to the mass of content that I'm learning. There's also the novelty of the new situation I'm in, as well as the need to be constantly planning my time, trying to figure out how to balance various demands.
And in general, I'm tired, and a little spazzed, which doesn't help much either.
Not that these are necessarily unfamiliar states for me but they've been worse than usual lately.
I do not like this. I want to think again.
My working memory is so poor these days that sometimes I'll begin a long sentence, and by the time I've reached the second or third clause, I can't remember what I was saying during the first part. Sometimes I just end up talking in a bunch of sentence fragments with added on redundancies to cover up for anything that I may have said earlier, but I'm not sure that I have, so I might as well say them again. Has this happened to anyone else?
I guess it's all a matter of adjusting my priorities, determining what's important. We'll see what happens.
1.) When was the last time you felt your head swell with righteous indignation?
2.) To what extent should an individual enjoy his/her own wealth? When does that wealth become excessive? Do similar rules apply for entire societies?
3.) To what extent does pondering ridiculously abstract questions actually aid one in dealing with real-world dilemmas? Can thinking in the abstract ever impair an individual's capacity to deal with reality?
So, you can tell I'm procrastinating, because I'm treating you all with a big chunk that I cut-and-paste out of the Annie Hall script.
And yes, Satyricon is a terribly indulgent film. Silly Fellini.
INT. THEATER LOBBY.
A lined-up crowd of ticket holders waiting to get into the theater, Alvy and
Annie among them. A bum of indistinct chatter can be heard through the ensuing
scene.
MAN IN LINE
(Loudly to his companion right
behind Alvy and Annie)
We saw the Fellini film last Tuesday.
It is not one of his best. It lacks a
cohesive structure. You know, you get
the feeling that he's not absolutely sure
what it is he wants to say. 'Course, I've
always felt he was essentially a-a technical
film maker. Granted, La Strada was a great
film. Great in its use of negative energy
more than anything else. But that simple
cohesive core ...
Alvy, reacting to the man's loud monologue, starts to get annoyed, while Annie
begins to read her newspaper.
ALVY
(Overlapping the man's speech)
I'm-I'm-I'm gonna have a stroke.
ANNIE
(Reading)
Well, stop listening to him.
MAN IN LINE
(Overlapping Alvy and Annie)
You know, it must need to have had its
leading from one thought to another.
You know what I'm talking about?
ALVY
(Sighing)
He's screaming his opinions in my ear.
MAN IN LINE
Like all that Juliet of the Spirits or
Satyricon, I found it incredibly ...
indulgent. You know, he really is. He's
one of the most indulgent film makers. He
really is-
ALVY
(Overlapping)
Key word here is "indulgent."
MAN IN LINE
(Overlapping)
-without getting ... well, let's put it
this way ...
ALVY
(To Annie, who is still reading,
overlapping the man in line who is
still talking)
What are you depressed about?
ANNIE
I missed my therapy. I overslept.
ALVY
How can you possibly oversleep?
ANNIE
The alarm clock.
ALVY
(Gasping)
You know what a hostile gesture that is
to me?
ANNIE
I know-because of our sexual problem,
right?
ALVY
Hey, you ... everybody in line at the
New Yorker has to know our rate of
intercourse?
MAN IN LINE
- It's like Samuel Beckett, you know-
I admire the technique but he doesn't ...
he doesn't hit me on a gut level.
ALVY
(To Annie)
I'd like to hit this guy on a gut level.
The man in line continues his speech all the while Alvy and Annie talk.
ANNIE
Stop it, Alvy!
ALVY
(Wringing his hands)
Well, he's spitting on my neck! You know,
he's spitting on my neck when he talks.
MAN IN LINE
And then, the most important thing of all
is a comedian's vision.
ANNIE
And you know something else? You know,
you're so egocentric that if I miss my
therapy you can think of it in terms of
how it affects you!
MAN IN LINE
(Lighting a cigarette while he talks)
Gal gun-shy is what it is.
ALVY
(Reacting again to the man in line)
Probably on their first date, right?
MAN IN LINE
(Still going on)
It's a narrow view.
ALVY
Probably met by answering an ad in the
New York Review of Books. "Thirtyish
academic wishes to meet woman who's
interested in Mozart, James Joyce and
sodomy."
(He sighs; then to Annie)
Whatta you mean, our sexual problem?
ANNIE
Oh!
ALVY
I-I-I mean, I'm comparatively normal
for a guy raised in Brooklyn.
ANNIE
Okay, I'm very sorry. My sexual problem!
Okay, my sexual problem! Huh?
The man in front of them turns to look at them, then looks away.
ALVY
I never read that. That was-that was
Henry James, right? Novel, uh, the
sequel to Turn of the Screw? My Sexual ...
MAN IN LINE
(Even louder now)
It's the influence of television. Yeah,
now Marshall McLuhan deals with it in terms
of it being a-a high, uh, high intensity,
you understand? A hot medium ... as opposed
to a ...
ALVY
(More and more aggravated)
What I wouldn't give for a large sock o'
horse manure.
MAN IN LINE
... as opposed to a print ...
Alvy steps forward, waving his hands in frustration, and stands facing the
camera.
ALVY
(Sighing and addressing the audience)
What do you do when you get stuck in a movie
line with a guy like this behind you? I mean,
it's just maddening!
The man in line moves toward Alvy. Both address the audience now.
MAN IN LINE
Wait a minute, why can't I give my opinion?
It's a free country!
ALVY
I mean, d- He can give you- Do you hafta
give it so loud? I mean, aren't you ashamed
to pontificate like that? And-and the funny
part of it is, M-Marshall McLuhan, you don't
know anything about Marshall McLuhan's...work!
MAN IN LINE
(Overlapping)
Wait a minute! Really? Really? I happen to
teach a class at Columbia called "TV Media
and Culture"! So I think that my insights
into Mr. McLuhan-well, have a great deal of
validity.
ALVY
Oh, do yuh?
MAN IN LINE
Yes.
ALVY
Well, that's funny, because I happen to
have Mr. McLuhan right here. So ... so,
here, just let me-I mean, all right. Come
over here ... a second.
Alvy gestures to the camera which follows him and the man in line to the back
of the crowded lobby. He moves over to a large stand-up movie poster and
pulls Marshall McLuban from behind the poster.
MAN IN LINE
Oh.
ALVY
(To McLuban)
Tell him.
MCLUHAN
(To the man in line)
I hear-I heard what you were saying.
You-you know nothing of my work. You
mean my whole fallacy is wrong. How you
ever got to teach a course in anything is
totally amazing.
ALVY
(To the camera)
Boy, if life were only like this!
You know how it is. Nobody knows why they're here. But nobody thinks about the fact that they don't know why they're here, so they're fine. They invent reasons to justify their here-ness but in the end, of course, there's no particularly good reason why they're here. But how horrendous it would be if they weren't here. And how horrendous it would be if there weren't a good reason for them to not be absent. But there is no good reason. But they've forgotten that.
I don't know what to tell you. Just wake up tomorrow and we'll make-believe again. Good night.
So, I remember angst-ridden self-conscious adolescent days, and everyone trying to console me, saying, no, they're not all looking at you, they're not all thinking you're stupid, they're thinking about themselves and how they feel that everyone is looking at them and thinking they're stupid. A classic study in the intro psych textbooks involves some student walking into a class with a gaudy Barry Manilow t-shirt, and no one even notices. See now? People aren't as bad as you thought. They're not out to get you and point out your flaws.
Yeah, well, sometimes there are counterexamples. Ever have one of those times when you're trying to see the best in people, and it turns out that your optimism was misguided? For example, the other day, I was at the gym, running on the treadmill. After a few minutes this guy gets on the treadmill next to me and starts running. Now, I'm keeping up a fairly brisk pace, I'm feeling good about myself, and I notice the guy occassionally adjusting the speed of his treadmill, moving it up a few notches. And I impulsively think: this guy is trying to compete with me. O the irrationality of it all. Right? Right? So, I spend the remainder of my time on the treadmill silently lecturing myself on the fact that the whole world is not one big competition. And then, as soon as I stop the treadmill, what happens? The guy next to me immediately stops too. My interpretation: He was getting worn out but didn't want to stop until I did. Maybe I'm wrong. But I wonder....
So I was with a group of people last night, and this is a quote from one of the girls there. It just made me laugh. It was in the context of a debate on the merits of Andrew Carnegie.
So, these people I was hanging out with, they were an interesting crew, most of them leaning so far to the left I was afraid they would fall over. But I suddenly felt like ignorance incarnate: They were whipping out historical anecdotes almost as well as my father could (which is telling you something) and had quite a detailed knowledge of contemporary events. For example, the conversation veered to what just happened in Russia. Now, that event was so awful that I almost don't want to comment on it directly; when a tragedy of that nature occurs I shy away from talking about it because I feel as though I can have no appropriate sense of that kind of suffering. Therefore anything I say will be so abstracted from the reality that my comments will be inevitably off-base. On the other hand, I would appreciate knowing more the details of the Chechnian situation. I thought I understood it to an extent but as we were discussing it last night, I realized that I don't know much at all. The main question that came up was, why doesn't Russia grant them the autonomy they want?
A deficit in my education: It has dawned on me that I really don't know what defines fascism. It's one of those words that you hear used colloquially all the time (You fascist pig!) but I wonder how many people are like me and really aren't clear on what fascism involves.
Any help?