among(st) other things...
It's amazing to me how old-fashioned, antiquated, and downright anachronistic I tend to be. Education is becoming increasingly electronic, which, naturally, has its advantages and disadvantages. I just feel like I'm currently on the losing end. I'll learn in time, but sometimes I'm just not sure. Perhaps it is because of the transition from brick and mortar learning to virtual learning?
I've gotten to read a few, brief articles on education. One was by Chomsky on how education is becoming corporatized, and the implications that has. Another was on the continued growing disparity in terms of achievement between men and women. I think what gets me about the second article, and the trends and implications of it, is that women are still only making, on average, 75 to 80 cents for every dollar a man makes. On a related note to the gender/sex issue, I also was linked to an article about Larry David's feminist credentials.
Things are going well so far. To get back to the first paragraph, I'm finding it odd that though I do prefer face to face communication, or phone calls at worst, it is amazing how though some people find it anachronistic, I'm increasingly drawn to the personal email. The past week has been filled with well over a dozen emails, mostly school/work related, and a few were some long, rambling personal emails. I really do wish I could just schedule time to meet with the people involved, but it seems that I always forget what I want to say, and it just wouldn't be practical.
Life really is too short. I'm just sad to realise how many years I really did waste, all the time lost that can never be recovered. Again, for someone who always prided himself on his cognitive abilities, I sure do seem to not exercise them very frequently, efficiently, or effectively. I always knew I was sort of a slow learner, a slow maturer. But, I've found that with time and dedication and energy, I can actually achieve. I know I've said all this before, but I just feel it bears repeating, to sort of motivate myself to doing the best I can in all endeavours. I have to remind myself of that, that I am capable; of course, Ava always said, rather cynically, that a monkey could probably learn Calculus, too, if given enough time. I mean, I know that isn't possible, but it sure was a way of making me feel bad about myself.
I just spent so much time, drifting, not really going anywhere. It amazes me and surprises me by all the extra work I did in high school, and then all the extra work in college, and none of it, as of today, has really yielded any positive results.
This leads me to my next point, something I always sort of believed in but never really articulated or expressed beyond the confines of my mind: faith is the cornerstone of everything. I'm more than willing to entertain and investigate the thought that that is wrong, naive, and a part of the recovery kool-aid. But I really do believe it. After all, that consciousness exists and is shared, that we can measure and analyze things, for those who believe in science; and, on the other side (in risk of creating a false dichotomy) those that believe that some dude who may or may not have existed was born and died for our "sins" whatever the hell that may mean.
I come back to another point, once again paraphrasing it so I don't have to dig through the mass of entries I've created this year, but sometime in February or so:
faith must be manifested inward and expressed outward.
I think that's been a big problem, with all this book-learning I've done. It has been, principally, growth for the sake of growth's sake --what Sir Edward Abbey referred to as the ideology of the cancer cell. I think it could just be part of the modern condition. I worry, however, that because we are so far removed from the times before the Dual Revolution of the 18th century (Industrial in Britain and Political in France), that all we really can do (or at least all that is really done) is using the schema of current times and imposing it on the past.
I'm trying to keep it concise, but I fear I've already spiraled out of control. I digress. My point is, and I really do think it is a good one, that I've got to give back. I've got to unburden myself of all this knowledge, especially the unnecessary stuff. I've got to stop absorbing and start digesting --which is to say, I've got to put down the food of knowledge, and start shitting out a tangible product that can be used, if nothing else as fertilizer. I think I like that metaphor a lot, as crude or simplistic as it may be --at least the way I wrote and presented it.
I think that's what I like, and where the seemingly opposite poles of science and reason can interact with spirituality and religion. I still maintain, however, that at the end of the day, they're all part of the same.
Another, hopefully quick, point: In 19th century Russian history, there was a great debate (it actually went back a few centuries before that, but that's another story): that of the Westernizers (heirs to the program that Peter I (the Great) tried to implement in the 17th and 18th centuries, and the forefathers of the Lenin and Bolsheviks) and the Slavophiles (the traditionalists, the conservatives, if you will). There was this great tension that to make any sort of progress, all things associated with being Slavic had to be purged or modified in order to fit in the Western scheme of things; differences were not to be celebrated, but shunned, avoided, and discarded quickly. On the other hand, all things distinctions and customs specific only to the Slavic peoples were to be celebrated and cherished, that they were the way to the future --that Russia could only move forward by embracing its autocratic, "backward" past. I forget which thinker, but I'm pretty sure it is a Slavophile (and rather easily found, as it was a reading in the course reader for Russian Intellectual History) but anyways, the thought was that the main flaw of the idea of following the West that it meant the atomization of man, a further subdividing and splitting and splintering off. Being Slavic, ran the thought, was to embrace the whole, and be as one.
I mention that because, well, as you know, a sort of theme and reference in here is that I create false dichotomies. I don't think they're false, but that doesn't mean they're true. Life isn't necessarily grey, as all this may imply and be leading up to, but it isn't black and white, either. I'm not sure what it is; I hate the idea of colour-coding life. I suppose, really, it is everything. To focus on one thing is indeed to partake in the reduction of man to atoms, rather than celebrating his whole. That contrast, between the macro and the micro, the "big picture" and the details.
I've found myself, once more, to be increasingly detail-orientated. I worry because, in the past, that has readily lead to me losing site of the big picture. I need to figure out how to balance that, and soon, to make sure the picture can be scene without a loss of attention to detail. Of course, as I've said here before and as I wrote in one of those many, many emails today: I'm notorious for flubbing the details.
I'm not sure what any of this means, and I don't think that I'll achieve an appropriate result anytime soon. It may come eventually, it may not come in my lifetime.
I'm reminded of something I heard yesterday, on a TED.com clip of a Philip Zimbardo (of Stanford Prison Experiment fame), that really, very succinctly articulates a thought I've long had, and what I feel the take away lesson was from The Use and Abuse of Literature (2011) by Marjorie Garber:
"So what's the solution? It's not my job. My job is to alarm. It's your job to solve."
This entry was supposed to be about the power of music. So often I wake up with an earworm (or two), of songs that just don't seem like they'll ever leave my head. And then, by lunchtime, they're forgotten. If I'm having a good day, I may remember it in the evening and listen to it before bed, but more often than not, I forget it.
Right now I'm listening to songs I wrote down yesterday and today to listen to. I feel pretty accomplished in that sense. It feels even better to know, that I may just get more sleep tonight than I have all week. I feel ragged, but it feels so good to be tired from working, than tired from drinking, overeating, or oversleeping.
"spiritual progress, not perfection..."
"sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly..."
Oh, and I'm sorry if the frequency of typos increases. Between the switching between English and Spanish, and the decrease in sleep and increase in activity, I've already caught a few errors here and there, both written and spoken.
I've gotten to read a few, brief articles on education. One was by Chomsky on how education is becoming corporatized, and the implications that has. Another was on the continued growing disparity in terms of achievement between men and women. I think what gets me about the second article, and the trends and implications of it, is that women are still only making, on average, 75 to 80 cents for every dollar a man makes. On a related note to the gender/sex issue, I also was linked to an article about Larry David's feminist credentials.
Things are going well so far. To get back to the first paragraph, I'm finding it odd that though I do prefer face to face communication, or phone calls at worst, it is amazing how though some people find it anachronistic, I'm increasingly drawn to the personal email. The past week has been filled with well over a dozen emails, mostly school/work related, and a few were some long, rambling personal emails. I really do wish I could just schedule time to meet with the people involved, but it seems that I always forget what I want to say, and it just wouldn't be practical.
Life really is too short. I'm just sad to realise how many years I really did waste, all the time lost that can never be recovered. Again, for someone who always prided himself on his cognitive abilities, I sure do seem to not exercise them very frequently, efficiently, or effectively. I always knew I was sort of a slow learner, a slow maturer. But, I've found that with time and dedication and energy, I can actually achieve. I know I've said all this before, but I just feel it bears repeating, to sort of motivate myself to doing the best I can in all endeavours. I have to remind myself of that, that I am capable; of course, Ava always said, rather cynically, that a monkey could probably learn Calculus, too, if given enough time. I mean, I know that isn't possible, but it sure was a way of making me feel bad about myself.
I just spent so much time, drifting, not really going anywhere. It amazes me and surprises me by all the extra work I did in high school, and then all the extra work in college, and none of it, as of today, has really yielded any positive results.
This leads me to my next point, something I always sort of believed in but never really articulated or expressed beyond the confines of my mind: faith is the cornerstone of everything. I'm more than willing to entertain and investigate the thought that that is wrong, naive, and a part of the recovery kool-aid. But I really do believe it. After all, that consciousness exists and is shared, that we can measure and analyze things, for those who believe in science; and, on the other side (in risk of creating a false dichotomy) those that believe that some dude who may or may not have existed was born and died for our "sins" whatever the hell that may mean.
I come back to another point, once again paraphrasing it so I don't have to dig through the mass of entries I've created this year, but sometime in February or so:
faith must be manifested inward and expressed outward.
I think that's been a big problem, with all this book-learning I've done. It has been, principally, growth for the sake of growth's sake --what Sir Edward Abbey referred to as the ideology of the cancer cell. I think it could just be part of the modern condition. I worry, however, that because we are so far removed from the times before the Dual Revolution of the 18th century (Industrial in Britain and Political in France), that all we really can do (or at least all that is really done) is using the schema of current times and imposing it on the past.
I'm trying to keep it concise, but I fear I've already spiraled out of control. I digress. My point is, and I really do think it is a good one, that I've got to give back. I've got to unburden myself of all this knowledge, especially the unnecessary stuff. I've got to stop absorbing and start digesting --which is to say, I've got to put down the food of knowledge, and start shitting out a tangible product that can be used, if nothing else as fertilizer. I think I like that metaphor a lot, as crude or simplistic as it may be --at least the way I wrote and presented it.
I think that's what I like, and where the seemingly opposite poles of science and reason can interact with spirituality and religion. I still maintain, however, that at the end of the day, they're all part of the same.
Another, hopefully quick, point: In 19th century Russian history, there was a great debate (it actually went back a few centuries before that, but that's another story): that of the Westernizers (heirs to the program that Peter I (the Great) tried to implement in the 17th and 18th centuries, and the forefathers of the Lenin and Bolsheviks) and the Slavophiles (the traditionalists, the conservatives, if you will). There was this great tension that to make any sort of progress, all things associated with being Slavic had to be purged or modified in order to fit in the Western scheme of things; differences were not to be celebrated, but shunned, avoided, and discarded quickly. On the other hand, all things distinctions and customs specific only to the Slavic peoples were to be celebrated and cherished, that they were the way to the future --that Russia could only move forward by embracing its autocratic, "backward" past. I forget which thinker, but I'm pretty sure it is a Slavophile (and rather easily found, as it was a reading in the course reader for Russian Intellectual History) but anyways, the thought was that the main flaw of the idea of following the West that it meant the atomization of man, a further subdividing and splitting and splintering off. Being Slavic, ran the thought, was to embrace the whole, and be as one.
I mention that because, well, as you know, a sort of theme and reference in here is that I create false dichotomies. I don't think they're false, but that doesn't mean they're true. Life isn't necessarily grey, as all this may imply and be leading up to, but it isn't black and white, either. I'm not sure what it is; I hate the idea of colour-coding life. I suppose, really, it is everything. To focus on one thing is indeed to partake in the reduction of man to atoms, rather than celebrating his whole. That contrast, between the macro and the micro, the "big picture" and the details.
I've found myself, once more, to be increasingly detail-orientated. I worry because, in the past, that has readily lead to me losing site of the big picture. I need to figure out how to balance that, and soon, to make sure the picture can be scene without a loss of attention to detail. Of course, as I've said here before and as I wrote in one of those many, many emails today: I'm notorious for flubbing the details.
I'm not sure what any of this means, and I don't think that I'll achieve an appropriate result anytime soon. It may come eventually, it may not come in my lifetime.
I'm reminded of something I heard yesterday, on a TED.com clip of a Philip Zimbardo (of Stanford Prison Experiment fame), that really, very succinctly articulates a thought I've long had, and what I feel the take away lesson was from The Use and Abuse of Literature (2011) by Marjorie Garber:
"So what's the solution? It's not my job. My job is to alarm. It's your job to solve."
This entry was supposed to be about the power of music. So often I wake up with an earworm (or two), of songs that just don't seem like they'll ever leave my head. And then, by lunchtime, they're forgotten. If I'm having a good day, I may remember it in the evening and listen to it before bed, but more often than not, I forget it.
Right now I'm listening to songs I wrote down yesterday and today to listen to. I feel pretty accomplished in that sense. It feels even better to know, that I may just get more sleep tonight than I have all week. I feel ragged, but it feels so good to be tired from working, than tired from drinking, overeating, or oversleeping.
"spiritual progress, not perfection..."
"sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly..."
Oh, and I'm sorry if the frequency of typos increases. Between the switching between English and Spanish, and the decrease in sleep and increase in activity, I've already caught a few errors here and there, both written and spoken.