This may be the first actual Brain Bubble I’ve ever posted! The original intent was to provide a mechanism for sudden (short) thoughts I wanted to record or put out there. But the BB posts quickly turned into mini collections of thought bubbles.
But today I started trying to get into Immanuel Kant (again), and that naturally led to a bit of Wiki Walking.
It was when I got to the article about the subject-object problem that a sudden brain bubble burst!
As I write this, the 2012 Winter Solstice (and, perhaps, the long-anticipated End of the World) is about nine hours away. At 11:12 “Zulu” time (UTC) tomorrow (12/21; nice palindromic date), the sun passes a certain key spot in its orbit.
After that, due to the Earth’s axial tilt, the days then start getting longer! (At least for those of us in the northern hemisphere. For those in the southern hemi, tomorrow is the sorrowful day when the light begins to fade.) I’ve always liked the view that those sky dragons that have been munching on our sun have had their fill and have moved off to slumber off their repast for six months.
In any event, the days will start getting longer, and that’s cause for celebration. In commemoration of this auspicious day I offer you this Solstice Greeting…
I usually lean towards descriptive writing more than prescriptive writing. I feel more comfortable describing my views and experiences than I do trying to prescribe a path for others.
But some blog articles I’ve read in the last months have made me wonder if I should try a prescriptive approach. This is something new for me, and I already sense a challenging path. How likely is it that someone who would benefit will read such a post, and how likely is it they would follow any prescription I might offer? And of course, what makes me think I can offer any prescription for another person’s life?
In any event, for whatever it’s worth, this prescription is labeled for those who feel dissatisfied with life, who feel a gap between what is and what they feel ought to be.
This is the first of a series of articles that discuss something I believe is unique to humans. In fact, I think it’s one of the few things we can point to that does differentiate us from the animal kingdom. And it is something that goes deep into our past. It is our ability to use language to create and tell complex stories.
It is also one of my favorite topics. If you’ve read many of my posts, particularly those about movies and TV, you’ve seen me write about my love of stories.
There is an interesting continuum of storytelling modes. Books lie at one end; movies at the other. Plays and TV lie between. The continuum describes—in part—the experience of the audience. Here’s the deal…
What’s the word for when you receive new information that alters your way of thinking? In particular, for when you thought things were one way, expected them to be that way, but the new information surprises you.
I used to think it was the word frisson, but that word (from the French, “to be cold”) refers to the pleasant thrill shiver you experience at the awards ceremony just before they open the envelope that might contain your name. Or when you watch a horror movie (assuming you like watching horror movies).
That’s not quite what I mean. There is—at least for me—some thrill shiver associated with learning a new and surprising thing, but I need a word that focuses more on the sense of realignment that occurs to your worldview.
Those of you who grew up with Rock & Roll probably heard your parents say, “That music all sounds the same.” (The implication: Therefore it’s crap.)
The funny thing is: To me, their music all sounded the same (and to some extent, still does). No doubt the music of my children will all sound the same to me (assuming I had any (which I don’t (and now it’s not likely I ever will (not that I’m bitter (yeah, right))))).
Truth is, I really have no ear for rap… it, um, all sounds the same to me. That may have more to do with having really bad hearing. I frequently cannot make out the lyrics of songs. Often, for me, the vocal track is just another melodic track that sounds like a human voice. And in any event, rap, to me, is more a form of poetry than of music.
Over the years, I’d noticed how my parents (and other lovers of classical music) could identify a symphony after hearing just a small bit. “Oh, yeah, that’s Foomhauser’s Opus #52 in P-flat Minor.” That seemed amazing and mysterious to me, but then I realized that I can do the same thing with rock. No doubt we can all identify music we’ve listened to over and over.
A few months ago a friend asked me if I had ever read, or seen, The Sand Pebbles. I replied that the closest I’d come was the Mad Magazine parody of the film. My friend felt this was a serious gap in my experience and offered to loan me the book and his DVD of the film.
Two things I should explain at this point. The first is that I’m always open to trying new things. That is, assuming they’re not utterly insane, extremely illegal or likely to cause harm. (Mildly insane, slightly illegal or probably harmless, yeah, okay, keep talking.) I would rather try a new restaurant than one I know, and I’ve turned down many a road just to see where it went.
The second thing is that, as much as I love movies, I’m not real big on war movies or westerns. The friend mentioned above loves both, and has been rather pointed sometimes about the “gaps” in my collection.
I had my first real interview yesterday, and I thought it went very well. Since The Company Gobsmacked me in early August, I’ve applied for 29 different positions. I’ve been casting a wide net, and I know I’m not a good fit for a lot of them, but you never know. The position I found in 2004 under similar circumstances came from just such a wide cast, and it was one of the best I’ve had at TC.
So far, I’m 13-16 on those applications (it was 16-13, but this morning’s email reversed the score). Sixteen have come back with, “Gee, thanks, but you’re not the one.” Yesterday’s interview was for one of the 16 13 that are still pending. As I said, it’s the first actual interview, although I had two “Information Interviews” a couple of weeks ago. (An information interview is when you sit down with the person who would offer the job and find out a bit about the job—and they about you—but it’s not a real interview. Call it a preview interview.)
Considering that there are only eight days left on my clock, the Ground Rush is getting pronounced. I’m starting to clean out email and file archives and starting to cart home some of my belongings. If I had to guess, I would say that today’s interview is my last best hope. It’s also the position I’m most suited for, so I’m feeling hopeful.
I was brought up pretty well, I think, in terms of having (and keeping) principles and honor and honesty. But my parents failed terribly in one regard: I have horrible eating habits. The stuff I love is, generally speaking, the wrong sort of stuff to be eating, and those wholesome and wonderful foods leave me cold. Some of them, cooked squash or most egg preparations for example, actually induce a gag reflex.
Given a choice between eating a fried (or boiled) egg or being water-boarded, I would have to give the matter some serious thought. It’s like the old Jack Benny joke about the time he was mugged. “Your money or your life!” says the mugger. [long pause] “Well?” says the mugger. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” replies Benny.
This is actually a comment response that ran so long I decided to post it as a new article. It’s in response to a comment from wakemenow on my Venus & Mars post yesterday.
I’ve heard many a tale about the competition among women. There have even been some articles published in work-related blogs about women in business being far harder on other women than on men. I’ve long assumed it was primarily based on competition for a resource (position, power, money) that was viewed as scarce, but I have come to wonder if there isn’t something else at work as well. This is a fairly fresh line of thought, so bear with me if it seems poorly thought out (or just flat-out wrong).
I’m reminded of how some Jews in concentration camps became agents of the Germans against their own kind. I’m also reminded of stories I’ve heard about how some Black people treat other Blacks. Similar stories come from Latinos, Asians and almost any grouping of humanity you care to name. It seems like any group that has been socially forced into a secondary position has among it what might almost be called traitors to that group.
It may be that this simply reflects, in the small, humanity in the large. There have always been traitors to humanity; those out for their own gain regardless of its effects on others. In fact, it may be merely a matter of there always being the sociopaths and psychopaths among us. (Some studies show that 5% of CEOs are (non-violent) psychopaths. A certain lack of humanity is almost required to be a successful CEO in charge of thousands of careers and lives.)
But a germ of a thought I had (and need to explore further) is whether there is an element of self-hate involved. Being born into a genetic group with no hope of ever leaving that group could cause resentment if you perceive your own group as diminished in society’s eyes. A woman I knew once told me how much she hated the ‘being weaker’ aspect of being a woman.
As a white male, I am (at least in the USA) the “social default,” so I don’t really experience that. (I recall an account by, if I recall correctly, Chris Rock, who spoke of how amazing it was to visit Africa and be the social default there.)
But as someone who has sometimes had weight issues, I do know what it’s like to be immediately filed as “lesser” upon sight. And I do have some inkling of self-hatred in that regard. Society views over-eating and under-exercising as a personal problem (which to an extent, it is), so if one struggles with that (as so many do), one can grow to loath that part of ones self.
So my question, then, is whether that translates to hatred for the group. If one resents being born a woman, or Black, or gay, or whatever, can that turn outward in a kind of mental self-defense? Combine that with avarice and self-interest and social disconnection, and you have a monster.
This seems to explain the problem I’ve always had with the ‘scarce resource’ theory. Why is it that women in business are harsh with other women, but not with other men.
Is it a matter of only viewing other women as the competition? Or is it some part of it anger turned outwards? Or something else entirely?
For what it’s worth, I first started pondering the idea of self-hatred a few years ago after reading the front page of this blog by Ana Marie Cox. I had rather a fan-crush on her after seeing her on the Rachel Maddow show on MSNBC. She was so highly intelligent and interesting to watch; one of the most expressive of Rachel’s guests.
In any event, on her blog she describes herself, ”I am a Wonkette emerita, political junkie, self-hating journalist and occasional grown-up”
And I thought, how can someone with so much experience self-hatred? That started me pondering the matter, and I realized it can have all sorts of manifestations.
For instance, struggling unsuccessfully with a weight gain. Or, with regard to a journalist, perhaps in terms of ‘selling out’ to accommodate and facilitate a career (I have no idea what Ana Marie Cox meant; I’ve never seen it explained). It could be any place where your actions end up in conflict with your heart or your mind. We humans are, at least in part, driven by our desires and our perceived needs. Sometimes those conflict with our sense of what is “right” (which is an issue worth examining on its own; maybe you’re following what you’ve been told is right, what you’ve accepted as right, without really thinking it through).
Is the answer to buckle down and ignore ones desires? Perhaps in some cases, yes. In others, it might be more appropriate to examine your assumptions. I once was trying to console a very distraught friend, and the conversation went something like this (this was back in my college days, 35 years ago):
Her: “I’m exhausted and miserable from working two jobs. It’s just driving me down!”
Me: “That sucks. Why are you working two jobs?”
Her: “Because I’m trying to save up to buy a house.”
Me: “Okay… why are you so interested in owning a house?”
Her: “…Well, I guess because I’m supposed to. Isn’t that how life goes?”
Me: “[shrug] I donno. Do you really want a house?”
Her: “…No… I guess not really, it’s just what you’re supposed to do.”
Me: “But if it’s making you miserable, why do it?”
Her: “…”
She quit the second job and was a lot happier. And while it might seem like the exchange above was obvious, I think it shows that we can become so wrapped up in our goals that we lose sight of who we are. Especially now, with life moving so fast, it can be hard to stop and catch your breath.
That’s why I think it’s good to be sure to snag some “me” time for quiet reflection and self-examination. I like to smoke a good cigar once in a while, and that takes about an hour where all you can really do is just sit, puff-puff and think. Cigars might not be your style, but find something that lets you listen to your inner voice.
It might well be trying to tell you something.
