WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?
The battle-ship, perfect-model’d, majestic, that I saw pass the offing to-day under full sail?
The splendors of the past day? Or the splendor of the night that envelopes me?
Or the vaunted glory and growth of the great city spread around me? —No;
But merely of two simple men I saw to-day, on the pier, in the midst of the crowd, parting the parting of dear friends;
The one to remain hung on the other’s neck, and passionately kiss’d him,
While the one to depart, tightly prest the one to remain in his arms.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
Tanka
By Tawara Machi (1987):
"Kono aji ga
iine" to kimi ga
ittakara
shichigatsu muika wa
sarada kinenbi
("This tastes
great" you
said, and so
the sixth of july,
our salad anniversary.)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
By Yosano Akiko (1901):
Kurokami no
chisuji no kami no
midaregami
katsu omoimidare
Omoimidaruru
(Of black hair
a thousand strands
all tangled, tangled,
and tangled too
my memories of us.)
"Kono aji ga
iine" to kimi ga
ittakara
shichigatsu muika wa
sarada kinenbi
("This tastes
great" you
said, and so
the sixth of july,
our salad anniversary.)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
By Yosano Akiko (1901):
Kurokami no
chisuji no kami no
midaregami
katsu omoimidare
Omoimidaruru
(Of black hair
a thousand strands
all tangled, tangled,
and tangled too
my memories of us.)
Evolution
Today i attended a seminary on phonology, and the speakers were talking about codas, onset, nuclei and a bunch of other stuff that we haven't even begun to look at in our classes yet... So my mind wandered off again.
Why do our skins have so little hair on them, compared to other animals?
My first thought was that this was indicative of our having evolved it in a hot, dry climate such as that in the African savvanah. After all, here in the Arctic you see people wearing a lot of clothes, and if we had pelts growing on us we could save some money and buy a few more beers instead of so many sweaters and jackets and scarfs. Also, if we'd spent an evolutionarily long time in a hot and wet place, we might have evolved something similar to oilcloth (preferably yellow), but that's not the case, either.
Then it occurred to me that most animals in the savannah do have pelts. Lions and jiraffes do, so how to account for this discrepancy? There are a few animals in that general area that have hairless skins, namely naked mole rats and hippos, so perhaps we evolved our hairless skin underground, or while floating our lives away on lakes and swamps? The buckteeth on some people do seem big enough to be a remainder of some earth-churning existence in tunnels... But if so, where are the palmate, thick claws supposed to aid in the digging? As for the lake possibility, i haven't discarded it yet. Maybe that's why i miss so much having a tub in my bathroom.
Later i realized i might have reversed cause and effect. Maybe it's not that we wear clothes because we don't have pelts, but the opposite is true: that is, we lost our pelts because we started to wear clothes. Someone should do the mathematics, but probably it's more expensive for a body to grow a lot of hair than to pay for a tailor.
Seriously though... What this implies is that our loss of hair has nothing to do with climate, but with the fact that wherever we may live, we possess the ability to cover ourselves and function in most weather conditions found on this planet. So maybe our hairlessness is related to our big brains, too (i know, old story).
If this were the case, though, why do we still grow so much hair on our heads? After all, at the gap we may buy not only gloves, but also hats. Perhaps the hair is there as an extra protection, and evolutionary constraints spelled something like: "ok, let them decide how much cleavage they want to show, but their brains are too important to allow them to accidentally fry".
The logical question then is (yes, you guessed): why male pattern baldness, then? You see, if women also got consistently bald, then that might signal that evolution is learning to trust that we will consistently use hats. As they don't, we must consider other possibilities. Does male pattern baldness mean that the brain of men can be freely fried after a certain age? Or that from an evolutionary point of view it doesn't make any sense to give men's brains the additional protection after such an age? After all, once a guy reproduces, the woman can theoretically take care of the children herself. In some cases, say if he is violent, or stubborn, the woman might even do better without him, or with a less brainy version of him. So, if a guy doesn't have enough brains to protect his brains when he goes bald, then he may become stupid enough that the woman can manage him more easily.
If this is the case, then one should expect a correlation between baldness and stupidity. A fertile ground for someone's doctoral thesis, i'm sure.
Anyway, that's that. And if you think this is all nonsense, well, let me inform you that it can't possibly be, 'cause i still have all my hair.
Why do our skins have so little hair on them, compared to other animals?
My first thought was that this was indicative of our having evolved it in a hot, dry climate such as that in the African savvanah. After all, here in the Arctic you see people wearing a lot of clothes, and if we had pelts growing on us we could save some money and buy a few more beers instead of so many sweaters and jackets and scarfs. Also, if we'd spent an evolutionarily long time in a hot and wet place, we might have evolved something similar to oilcloth (preferably yellow), but that's not the case, either.
Then it occurred to me that most animals in the savannah do have pelts. Lions and jiraffes do, so how to account for this discrepancy? There are a few animals in that general area that have hairless skins, namely naked mole rats and hippos, so perhaps we evolved our hairless skin underground, or while floating our lives away on lakes and swamps? The buckteeth on some people do seem big enough to be a remainder of some earth-churning existence in tunnels... But if so, where are the palmate, thick claws supposed to aid in the digging? As for the lake possibility, i haven't discarded it yet. Maybe that's why i miss so much having a tub in my bathroom.
Later i realized i might have reversed cause and effect. Maybe it's not that we wear clothes because we don't have pelts, but the opposite is true: that is, we lost our pelts because we started to wear clothes. Someone should do the mathematics, but probably it's more expensive for a body to grow a lot of hair than to pay for a tailor.
Seriously though... What this implies is that our loss of hair has nothing to do with climate, but with the fact that wherever we may live, we possess the ability to cover ourselves and function in most weather conditions found on this planet. So maybe our hairlessness is related to our big brains, too (i know, old story).
If this were the case, though, why do we still grow so much hair on our heads? After all, at the gap we may buy not only gloves, but also hats. Perhaps the hair is there as an extra protection, and evolutionary constraints spelled something like: "ok, let them decide how much cleavage they want to show, but their brains are too important to allow them to accidentally fry".
The logical question then is (yes, you guessed): why male pattern baldness, then? You see, if women also got consistently bald, then that might signal that evolution is learning to trust that we will consistently use hats. As they don't, we must consider other possibilities. Does male pattern baldness mean that the brain of men can be freely fried after a certain age? Or that from an evolutionary point of view it doesn't make any sense to give men's brains the additional protection after such an age? After all, once a guy reproduces, the woman can theoretically take care of the children herself. In some cases, say if he is violent, or stubborn, the woman might even do better without him, or with a less brainy version of him. So, if a guy doesn't have enough brains to protect his brains when he goes bald, then he may become stupid enough that the woman can manage him more easily.
If this is the case, then one should expect a correlation between baldness and stupidity. A fertile ground for someone's doctoral thesis, i'm sure.
Anyway, that's that. And if you think this is all nonsense, well, let me inform you that it can't possibly be, 'cause i still have all my hair.
Sabrina
1954. The young daughter of the chauffeur falls in love with the two very rich brothers who employ her father. Her redeeming features: she speaks excellent french, she's not after their money and she doesn't go for both of them at once (well, her affections overlap a little, but she makes up her mind in a couple of days).
After such agonising indecision Sabrina stays with the older brother, Linus, who is some 25 to 30 years older than her and a workaholic. Sabrina is played by Audrey Hepburn and Linus by Humphrey Bogart, who really was 25 to 30 years older than Hepburn, but an alcoholic instead of a workaholic.
To avoid the bad taste of showing such a mismatched pair kissing, their mouths keep a minimum distance of 5 cm throughout the film, which causes an effect of creepiness that was later to be perfectly imitated by Sophia Coppola in "Lost in translation".
In my opinion, Sabrina should have stuck with her original choice. David was only some 15 years older than her, and handsomer. Ok, so he was a bit of a womanizer, and in one scene we learn he'd kissed her on the mouth when she was 9 and he was teaching her to play tennis, but nobody is perfect...
Dear old Hollywood!!!
After such agonising indecision Sabrina stays with the older brother, Linus, who is some 25 to 30 years older than her and a workaholic. Sabrina is played by Audrey Hepburn and Linus by Humphrey Bogart, who really was 25 to 30 years older than Hepburn, but an alcoholic instead of a workaholic.
To avoid the bad taste of showing such a mismatched pair kissing, their mouths keep a minimum distance of 5 cm throughout the film, which causes an effect of creepiness that was later to be perfectly imitated by Sophia Coppola in "Lost in translation".
In my opinion, Sabrina should have stuck with her original choice. David was only some 15 years older than her, and handsomer. Ok, so he was a bit of a womanizer, and in one scene we learn he'd kissed her on the mouth when she was 9 and he was teaching her to play tennis, but nobody is perfect...
Dear old Hollywood!!!
"Senate OKs detainee interrogation bill"
Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!!
"In this new era of threats, where the stark and sober reality is that America must confront international terrorists committed to the destruction of our way of life, this bill is absolutely necessary," said Sen. Saxby Chambliss.
A bit of a paradox, don't you think? I mean, to protect a way of life by utterly changing it... A bit like building your own sandcastle and then stomping on it yourself so that the bullies on the beach can't.
Not that i'm saying that the American "way of life" is as illusory as a sandcastle, but it definitely has always had its cracks. That's where weed and bushes dig their roots into... and then end up making the walls crumble to pieces.
The particular crack i'm referring to are America's double standards, which more than a crack has become a canyon that plagues not only America, but... well, i was gonna say the whole developed world, but in fact, it plagues the whole of humanity. The reason why fingers are more easily pointed towards the 'first world' is because from the perspective of a 'third worlder', it seems that the developed nations have it in their hands to change things... Which in reality maybe they don't, any longer. Or maybe not so easily.
The double standards i'm talking about are those high and mighty humanitarian and environmental principles that let us point to that ignorant and miserable part of the world that is without them, those principles that draw clear limits within which all business must operate... while in the first world. However, if first world business goes to the third world (as it must, for the level of prosperity lived in the first world to be maintained), then it may do as it pleases. In fact, it MUST be able to do as it pleases, otherwise profits are not high enough.
Things have come to such a head that nowadays first world nations are indeed in deep... cra(cks)p. On the one hand, their citizens are becoming more and more educated, and they are demanding their governments to really live up to those beautiful principles. On the other hand, if a nation wants to pass laws demanding that multinational companies based on its soil conduct business only with those countries that demonstrate a certain level of internal justice and whatever the opposite of corruption is... well, then those companies will pick up their skirts and scamper away to that blessedly miserable, ignorant and --most importantly-- cheap part of the world: you can kiss goodbye those billions in tax revenues. I mean, businesses are doing it already, what with all those bloody chimney filters people want them to spend money on, and the high tithes exacted from them every year ("Democracy can be so feudal, it's disgraceful!" as my uncle Scrooge used to say). In any case, if you're in a public office and want yourself or your party to be re-elected, this is not a pretty picture. Ignore it for as long as you can, or try to keep people disinformed, or make deals with the companies under the table.
So you see: crumbling, crumbling. And terrorism is just that little extra, shitty, dirty bit of weight that gives us even less time to really fix the old place...
It all comes down to that old sigh: if we could really live up to our principles!
"In this new era of threats, where the stark and sober reality is that America must confront international terrorists committed to the destruction of our way of life, this bill is absolutely necessary," said Sen. Saxby Chambliss.
A bit of a paradox, don't you think? I mean, to protect a way of life by utterly changing it... A bit like building your own sandcastle and then stomping on it yourself so that the bullies on the beach can't.
Not that i'm saying that the American "way of life" is as illusory as a sandcastle, but it definitely has always had its cracks. That's where weed and bushes dig their roots into... and then end up making the walls crumble to pieces.
The particular crack i'm referring to are America's double standards, which more than a crack has become a canyon that plagues not only America, but... well, i was gonna say the whole developed world, but in fact, it plagues the whole of humanity. The reason why fingers are more easily pointed towards the 'first world' is because from the perspective of a 'third worlder', it seems that the developed nations have it in their hands to change things... Which in reality maybe they don't, any longer. Or maybe not so easily.
The double standards i'm talking about are those high and mighty humanitarian and environmental principles that let us point to that ignorant and miserable part of the world that is without them, those principles that draw clear limits within which all business must operate... while in the first world. However, if first world business goes to the third world (as it must, for the level of prosperity lived in the first world to be maintained), then it may do as it pleases. In fact, it MUST be able to do as it pleases, otherwise profits are not high enough.
Things have come to such a head that nowadays first world nations are indeed in deep... cra(cks)p. On the one hand, their citizens are becoming more and more educated, and they are demanding their governments to really live up to those beautiful principles. On the other hand, if a nation wants to pass laws demanding that multinational companies based on its soil conduct business only with those countries that demonstrate a certain level of internal justice and whatever the opposite of corruption is... well, then those companies will pick up their skirts and scamper away to that blessedly miserable, ignorant and --most importantly-- cheap part of the world: you can kiss goodbye those billions in tax revenues. I mean, businesses are doing it already, what with all those bloody chimney filters people want them to spend money on, and the high tithes exacted from them every year ("Democracy can be so feudal, it's disgraceful!" as my uncle Scrooge used to say). In any case, if you're in a public office and want yourself or your party to be re-elected, this is not a pretty picture. Ignore it for as long as you can, or try to keep people disinformed, or make deals with the companies under the table.
So you see: crumbling, crumbling. And terrorism is just that little extra, shitty, dirty bit of weight that gives us even less time to really fix the old place...
It all comes down to that old sigh: if we could really live up to our principles!
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Matt
I met Matt in may. Seriously. Am not just making it up for the sake of the nice alliteration. I met him in May, but had known about him for a coupla months.
"Pillow talk"
Funny movie from 1959, Doris Day & Rock Hudson. They go to a bar and the pianist is playing a song:
"There's a Guy in this old town
I'm tellin' you a fact
He measures five feet up and down
And five feet front and back..."
"Oh!" says Doris Day's character to Rock Hudson's. "He's fat!"
Hudson assents sheepishly and, when she turns away, rolls his eyes at her ingenuity.
All this in a 50s movie!
"There's a Guy in this old town
I'm tellin' you a fact
He measures five feet up and down
And five feet front and back..."
"Oh!" says Doris Day's character to Rock Hudson's. "He's fat!"
Hudson assents sheepishly and, when she turns away, rolls his eyes at her ingenuity.
All this in a 50s movie!
Monday, September 25, 2006
Dead man's boots
There's a shoe rack outside my dorm room, here at the university. On its topmost shelf stood a pair of brown leather hiking boots, quite nice. I noticed them when i arrived, almost two months ago. Nobody had touched them in all this time. They didn't seem to belong to any of us three residents of the lower floor, and they didn't look like girl boots, either, so the top floor residents are probably out of the equation, too. Then yesterday, as i am coming out of the bathroom, the mystery is explained: the guy who lives at the end of the corridor has bought himself new shoes, and needs the space on the shelf for them.
-What should we do with these boots? - he asks.
-Well, i don't know. Who do they belong to?
-A guy who used to live here and died last fall. They've been there for almost a year.
-Oh. - i say. -Where did he exactly live?
-In your room, actually.
We repeat this conversation a couple of times. I want to make sure i've understood him. It might be my norwegian, but no. I understood right. The guy was a student of medicine. Died of heart problems.
-Do you want them, then? - he asks finally.
-Well... why not? I'm not superstitious.
There's a look on his face. I think maybe he doesn't understand me. I don't know how to say superstitious, so i've said it in English. I try to explain.
-There's nothing to be afraid of, i think. And if you don't want them, yeah, they're nice boots. I will take them. Besides, i keep my shoes inside my room. You can have the shelf.
He laughs.
My room feels different now, and i used the boots today to come to classes. My feet felt happy. Or maybe the boots did.
Who knew! I am a little superstitious, after all.
-What should we do with these boots? - he asks.
-Well, i don't know. Who do they belong to?
-A guy who used to live here and died last fall. They've been there for almost a year.
-Oh. - i say. -Where did he exactly live?
-In your room, actually.
We repeat this conversation a couple of times. I want to make sure i've understood him. It might be my norwegian, but no. I understood right. The guy was a student of medicine. Died of heart problems.
-Do you want them, then? - he asks finally.
-Well... why not? I'm not superstitious.
There's a look on his face. I think maybe he doesn't understand me. I don't know how to say superstitious, so i've said it in English. I try to explain.
-There's nothing to be afraid of, i think. And if you don't want them, yeah, they're nice boots. I will take them. Besides, i keep my shoes inside my room. You can have the shelf.
He laughs.
My room feels different now, and i used the boots today to come to classes. My feet felt happy. Or maybe the boots did.
Who knew! I am a little superstitious, after all.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Two firsts
First snow in the city, on and off, all day today. At the beginning, tiny balls of ice pelting down; later true flakes, swirling outside my window. Not enough to pile up yet, but there are white patches on the ground already, here and there.
Then, tonight, on a trip to the laundry, i look up and the clouds have split. A pearly, ghostly, grey-greenish curtain hangs up there, shifting slowly. Pale, but definite.
Only forerunners of much more intense displays, i hope.
Then, tonight, on a trip to the laundry, i look up and the clouds have split. A pearly, ghostly, grey-greenish curtain hangs up there, shifting slowly. Pale, but definite.
Only forerunners of much more intense displays, i hope.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Pocket psychology
One of the main arguments that critics of communism and socialism use is that these, as organizational systems, stop progress. The idea is that they slow down competition and entrepreneurship. Even assuming a non-corrupt socialist system, when people have all their needs covered, there is little incentive to develop and look for new ways of doing things. So the argument goes.
Papafritadas, if you ask me. The most advanced societies today are socialist. True, they have their problems, and that is mainly that some people attempt to take advantage of the system, laying back too much. They also have those famous (marginally) higher suicidal rates which, some theorize, are due to the lack of reasons to strive.
On the other hand, societies that lean towards strict capitalism tend to have a lot more violent crime and much more marked class divisions. One thing is not to struggle enough, but quite a different one is to have to struggle all the time, because you know you're on a slippery slope with a hole at the bottom. In capitalist societies, money is your main tool, and the paradox is, the needier you are, the less you are able to provide for yourself.
As for entrepreneurship (be it commercial, tecnological, social, artistic, etc.) as far as societies allow some room for it, there will always be a number of people that will take those directions. Clear limits need to be set though: nobody should be allowed to amass enough money nor influence to get above the societal contract, that is, to impose their rights above those of others. That is criminal, yet it happens in all societies, even the more socialist ones that pride themselves in their equality and their humanitarian principles.
This phenomenon can be best observed as it is played out in the global arena. One example in point is the canadian mining company Northern Orion Resources, which uses in Argentina environmentally unsound mining practices that would never be allowed in Canada. Yes, we all know that this is partly the fault of the corrupt argentinean system, but it also points at the corruption of the canadian one. Basically, Northern Orion pays a lot of money in taxes, and Canada cannot afford to lose such a big chunk of their revenue. Thus, principles are thrown out the window, and the result is that, whereas so called underdeveloped nations produce damage at their own national level, developed ones, because of their scope, produce it internationally.
Anyway, going back to this idea that socialism puts a break on development... Let's take a short look at how capitalism acts in two different cases, namely show business and technological development.
Imagine you own Viacom. Of course, you don't own it whole. You're one of many investors, but you've put in enough money that you're in the board of directors, or at least enough to have a vote in deciding who should be hired to be on that board. Do you give a damn about the quality of the movies and TV programs produced by your subsidiary --say-- Paramount? Well, yes, insofar as quality is defined by the factors that bring money into your pocket. That artsy stuff has no bucks in it, for instance. Do you care about how socially progressive, how groundshaking your movie is? Of course you do! Too much social progressivism and market patterns might eventually be altered and cost you a lot of money in market research, trying to figure out what to sell next. After all, the media has a lot of power to influence society; it's better not to shake things too much, so think carefully about what you buy from writers! Finally, you should make sure to screen out anything that's too original. Originality does not sell. People take a while to get used it. I mean, look at that Van Gogh guy, for instance. What did he get out of it? Let others be as original as they want. You can always buy or copy their stuff later, when it's less original...
Tsk... You don't like this. After all, you're a good guy, and you have the best education your parents' money could buy: you DO appreciate art. You've been to many of Tiffany's auctions and the walls of your studio are plastered with valuable paintings and stuffed with incunable editions. You look at TV and feel responsible, so you take your money out of show biz and put it into Silicon Valley. I mean, development of new technology really is cutting edge, right?
Poor soft-hearted creature you, soon it's evident that if you want to keep making money, it's better for you not to use all your researchers' work at once. Exploit feature by feature. Besides, to put out a fundamentally new product would mean too much money invested in changing the production process. Better to pace research then, too. Parse out the money, make them beg for it. Who knows what they'll come up with! And then, what if they quit and take their ideas elsewhere? You MUST pass laws that allow you to buy not only their thinking, but also their silence.
You finally learn your lesson: don't get involved in these things! Just pay a manager to look after your money. It should be someone motivated, someone ambitious, someone who would like to be like you someday.
Why don't those critics from the first paragraph ever focus on how capitalism does this kind of stuff? Perhaps because for them development is simply that state that allows the most unrestricted accumulation of money. Wealth cannot be measured in any other way, apparently.
Papafritadas, if you ask me. The most advanced societies today are socialist. True, they have their problems, and that is mainly that some people attempt to take advantage of the system, laying back too much. They also have those famous (marginally) higher suicidal rates which, some theorize, are due to the lack of reasons to strive.
On the other hand, societies that lean towards strict capitalism tend to have a lot more violent crime and much more marked class divisions. One thing is not to struggle enough, but quite a different one is to have to struggle all the time, because you know you're on a slippery slope with a hole at the bottom. In capitalist societies, money is your main tool, and the paradox is, the needier you are, the less you are able to provide for yourself.
As for entrepreneurship (be it commercial, tecnological, social, artistic, etc.) as far as societies allow some room for it, there will always be a number of people that will take those directions. Clear limits need to be set though: nobody should be allowed to amass enough money nor influence to get above the societal contract, that is, to impose their rights above those of others. That is criminal, yet it happens in all societies, even the more socialist ones that pride themselves in their equality and their humanitarian principles.
This phenomenon can be best observed as it is played out in the global arena. One example in point is the canadian mining company Northern Orion Resources, which uses in Argentina environmentally unsound mining practices that would never be allowed in Canada. Yes, we all know that this is partly the fault of the corrupt argentinean system, but it also points at the corruption of the canadian one. Basically, Northern Orion pays a lot of money in taxes, and Canada cannot afford to lose such a big chunk of their revenue. Thus, principles are thrown out the window, and the result is that, whereas so called underdeveloped nations produce damage at their own national level, developed ones, because of their scope, produce it internationally.
Anyway, going back to this idea that socialism puts a break on development... Let's take a short look at how capitalism acts in two different cases, namely show business and technological development.
Imagine you own Viacom. Of course, you don't own it whole. You're one of many investors, but you've put in enough money that you're in the board of directors, or at least enough to have a vote in deciding who should be hired to be on that board. Do you give a damn about the quality of the movies and TV programs produced by your subsidiary --say-- Paramount? Well, yes, insofar as quality is defined by the factors that bring money into your pocket. That artsy stuff has no bucks in it, for instance. Do you care about how socially progressive, how groundshaking your movie is? Of course you do! Too much social progressivism and market patterns might eventually be altered and cost you a lot of money in market research, trying to figure out what to sell next. After all, the media has a lot of power to influence society; it's better not to shake things too much, so think carefully about what you buy from writers! Finally, you should make sure to screen out anything that's too original. Originality does not sell. People take a while to get used it. I mean, look at that Van Gogh guy, for instance. What did he get out of it? Let others be as original as they want. You can always buy or copy their stuff later, when it's less original...
Tsk... You don't like this. After all, you're a good guy, and you have the best education your parents' money could buy: you DO appreciate art. You've been to many of Tiffany's auctions and the walls of your studio are plastered with valuable paintings and stuffed with incunable editions. You look at TV and feel responsible, so you take your money out of show biz and put it into Silicon Valley. I mean, development of new technology really is cutting edge, right?
Poor soft-hearted creature you, soon it's evident that if you want to keep making money, it's better for you not to use all your researchers' work at once. Exploit feature by feature. Besides, to put out a fundamentally new product would mean too much money invested in changing the production process. Better to pace research then, too. Parse out the money, make them beg for it. Who knows what they'll come up with! And then, what if they quit and take their ideas elsewhere? You MUST pass laws that allow you to buy not only their thinking, but also their silence.
You finally learn your lesson: don't get involved in these things! Just pay a manager to look after your money. It should be someone motivated, someone ambitious, someone who would like to be like you someday.
Why don't those critics from the first paragraph ever focus on how capitalism does this kind of stuff? Perhaps because for them development is simply that state that allows the most unrestricted accumulation of money. Wealth cannot be measured in any other way, apparently.
Whadda...?
Dang! What will they think of next? A publicity bot has taken over my blog! It links random words to adds... If these links appear on your screens, don't click on them... Friggin stupid bots!!!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
First snow
Today was the autumn equinox and, fittingly for the Arctic, we got our first snow here in Tromsø. Mind you, not in the city itself, but all the mountains around us dawned white this morning, from some 200 meters up. Then it melted a little throughout the day, but this was the view from my window at about 3:00 pm:
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Couldn't sleep
Just that, couldn't sleep.
So i watched "Spellbound" (1945) with Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck: period's the word here. Bergman's a psychoanalyst that's constantly being harassed by her co-workers but actually doesn't get angry about it; in fact, she seems to think it comes with being a woman. She gets patronized by everyone, too. Her best friend tells her stuff like "Do not complete that sentence with the usual female contradictions. You grant i know more than you, but on the other hand, you know more than me! Women's talk. Bah!" or "We both know that the mind of a woman in love is operating on the lowest level of the intellect." When a man she's not interested in flirts with her, kisses her on the mouth, tells her science is killing her womanliness, she reacts as if nothing bad happened! She doesn't retort to any of it, and goes along with his game...
And she's got other little quirks, too. I mean, not only does she get romantically involved with a patient, but she puts her career and life at risk for him after knowing the guy for about 8 hours, immediately after she figures out he's given her a false identity and is probably a psychotic murderer. "You're not", she tells him. "It's a guilt complex that makes you believe you did it." Hah!
Ok. Very dated, quaint... But cute. Still, can't sleep. Gonna try again...
So i watched "Spellbound" (1945) with Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck: period's the word here. Bergman's a psychoanalyst that's constantly being harassed by her co-workers but actually doesn't get angry about it; in fact, she seems to think it comes with being a woman. She gets patronized by everyone, too. Her best friend tells her stuff like "Do not complete that sentence with the usual female contradictions. You grant i know more than you, but on the other hand, you know more than me! Women's talk. Bah!" or "We both know that the mind of a woman in love is operating on the lowest level of the intellect." When a man she's not interested in flirts with her, kisses her on the mouth, tells her science is killing her womanliness, she reacts as if nothing bad happened! She doesn't retort to any of it, and goes along with his game...
And she's got other little quirks, too. I mean, not only does she get romantically involved with a patient, but she puts her career and life at risk for him after knowing the guy for about 8 hours, immediately after she figures out he's given her a false identity and is probably a psychotic murderer. "You're not", she tells him. "It's a guilt complex that makes you believe you did it." Hah!
Ok. Very dated, quaint... But cute. Still, can't sleep. Gonna try again...
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Lånekasse deals
It turns out that if you've worked a minimum of two years in Norway and you then decide to go back to school, you have the right to ask the state for a loan of up to 5000 kroner per month, and a stipend of 3000 kr per month. This is as much as the brochures said; also, according to them, the stipend doesn't need to be payed back ever, as long as you complete whatever course or career you're studying.
Super smart little me reasoned like this: "I'd like to avoid running a debt; since i have saved some $ these past few years, i'll only ask for the stipend, and pay the rest of expenses from my own pocket."
Pretty logical, right? Well, i've just found out that i've been awarded the money i asked for... But as a loan. Apparently, you don't get the stipend money until after you've asked for all the loan money.
Is that dumb or what? I mean, i could very well have asked for the full 8000, put the loan bit aside, untouched, to pay back as soon as i'm done studying, and then use those 3000. Instead, not only don't i get the 3000 i was counting on not to have to eat up all my savings, but now i have the worry of having to pay back afterwards...
Basically, by being set up like this the system seems to ask that you squeeze it to the maximum, or that people be dishonest. All right, so i have the means to pay for my own studies, because i have some savings. Should i be left penniless because of that? On the other hand, i see students here (most of them younger than me, granted) and they get the full deal... Plus their parents help them out quite a bit.
I'm looking for a part time job to do on weekends (gonna have to put a little more effort in that!) but of course, since my norwegian is not still quite as good as i'd like it to, it's gonna be tougher...
Oh well, i'll figure something out. I suppose from a certain point of view it does make sense not to pay a stipend to someone until they've taken a loan. Norwegian students do end up paying back their loans for years after they're done studying.
I won't take the deal, and get that job instead. Shikata ga nai!
Super smart little me reasoned like this: "I'd like to avoid running a debt; since i have saved some $ these past few years, i'll only ask for the stipend, and pay the rest of expenses from my own pocket."
Pretty logical, right? Well, i've just found out that i've been awarded the money i asked for... But as a loan. Apparently, you don't get the stipend money until after you've asked for all the loan money.
Is that dumb or what? I mean, i could very well have asked for the full 8000, put the loan bit aside, untouched, to pay back as soon as i'm done studying, and then use those 3000. Instead, not only don't i get the 3000 i was counting on not to have to eat up all my savings, but now i have the worry of having to pay back afterwards...
Basically, by being set up like this the system seems to ask that you squeeze it to the maximum, or that people be dishonest. All right, so i have the means to pay for my own studies, because i have some savings. Should i be left penniless because of that? On the other hand, i see students here (most of them younger than me, granted) and they get the full deal... Plus their parents help them out quite a bit.
I'm looking for a part time job to do on weekends (gonna have to put a little more effort in that!) but of course, since my norwegian is not still quite as good as i'd like it to, it's gonna be tougher...
Oh well, i'll figure something out. I suppose from a certain point of view it does make sense not to pay a stipend to someone until they've taken a loan. Norwegian students do end up paying back their loans for years after they're done studying.
I won't take the deal, and get that job instead. Shikata ga nai!
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
What lies beneath
Yesterday night we had the last dive of the course. Tomorrow we take the written exams and, with luck, i'll be a certified open water diver afterwards. Oceans of the world, watch out!
Har-har. Actually, i'm still consuming about triple the amount of air the instructors do, which means i'm breathing and moving too fast, or fussying overmuch with the air controls in vest and dry suit. Both, probably. Also, my control of buoyancy is rather suckful, and that's the reason why you might still find me about one meter below or above where i want to be at any given moment.
Anyway, performance angst aside, the point is we were not supposed to dive at night. What happened was that the boss did not want to have to work through the weekend again, and so he packed all the dives into monday and tuesday afternoon; yesterday it got a bit late, and voilá! We had a dive in the dark.
It was incredible. We went down all together (4 of us) and spent 20 minutes below, each with a flashlight... Ironically, you see much more of marine life at night than in daylight. Everything seems to have awakened: clams taking off from the silt at the bottom and shooting across your field of vision, opening and closing their shells rythmically (jet propulsion, obviously, but so awkward-looking!); crabs with snail shells mounted on their backs, picking out invisible food out of the water, their mouths churning constantly; fish attracted to the light, coming closer and closer and then suddenly darting off; jellyfish pulsing all around you, different sizes and kinds, some with tendrils meters long, catching the light like spiderweb strands do in sunny summer days... After a while one of the instructors came around and signaled us to settle down on the seafloor and to turn all our lights off. When we did, we couldn't see him nor each other any longer, but this tiny blue sparks started appearing in the place he'd been. They were exactly the color of stars, and about their size, except they blinked in and out of existence. At first you distrusted their existence, but after a while their reality became more obvious, the pinpricks of light defining the arches of the instructor's hands waving in the water, the turbulence around them. He himself was not visible, but the sparks drew what he was doing. We caught on, and started to shake our hands too, and soon there was a cloud of plancton phosphorescing all around us.
Because you can't talk to anyone, you can't see anyone, and you can only hear the air rushing in and bubbling out of you... Well, i don't know what happens because of that. It felt very different.
How does one transmit these things, and what for? I can think of people who might read this and wish you'd been there with me, and there's a bit of regret you weren't, and this is my vicarious way of sharing this with you... Or perhaps i'm simply trying to make you envious.
I think writing about such experiences has to do, in part, with the freedom that writing allows you over speech. I may tell of this experience over the phone or face to face to my dearest friend, but to say some of what i write would feel awkward. Writing lets you go more into detail, right? Say the things that went through your mind at that moment, but that would be too awkward or out of place to repeat in regular conversation...
Or perhaps all this additional stuff is just an indicator that i write in a very stilted way. Should one write precisely in the way that one says things? There has to be a balance, i think, but how does one find it? After all, the amount of what one speaks is part of the way one does it, and sometimes there are days in which people won't speak the number of words they need to write a single paragraph. Does that mind they shouldn't write?
Blarb blarb. Got to go to norwegian class.
Har-har. Actually, i'm still consuming about triple the amount of air the instructors do, which means i'm breathing and moving too fast, or fussying overmuch with the air controls in vest and dry suit. Both, probably. Also, my control of buoyancy is rather suckful, and that's the reason why you might still find me about one meter below or above where i want to be at any given moment.
Anyway, performance angst aside, the point is we were not supposed to dive at night. What happened was that the boss did not want to have to work through the weekend again, and so he packed all the dives into monday and tuesday afternoon; yesterday it got a bit late, and voilá! We had a dive in the dark.
It was incredible. We went down all together (4 of us) and spent 20 minutes below, each with a flashlight... Ironically, you see much more of marine life at night than in daylight. Everything seems to have awakened: clams taking off from the silt at the bottom and shooting across your field of vision, opening and closing their shells rythmically (jet propulsion, obviously, but so awkward-looking!); crabs with snail shells mounted on their backs, picking out invisible food out of the water, their mouths churning constantly; fish attracted to the light, coming closer and closer and then suddenly darting off; jellyfish pulsing all around you, different sizes and kinds, some with tendrils meters long, catching the light like spiderweb strands do in sunny summer days... After a while one of the instructors came around and signaled us to settle down on the seafloor and to turn all our lights off. When we did, we couldn't see him nor each other any longer, but this tiny blue sparks started appearing in the place he'd been. They were exactly the color of stars, and about their size, except they blinked in and out of existence. At first you distrusted their existence, but after a while their reality became more obvious, the pinpricks of light defining the arches of the instructor's hands waving in the water, the turbulence around them. He himself was not visible, but the sparks drew what he was doing. We caught on, and started to shake our hands too, and soon there was a cloud of plancton phosphorescing all around us.
Because you can't talk to anyone, you can't see anyone, and you can only hear the air rushing in and bubbling out of you... Well, i don't know what happens because of that. It felt very different.
How does one transmit these things, and what for? I can think of people who might read this and wish you'd been there with me, and there's a bit of regret you weren't, and this is my vicarious way of sharing this with you... Or perhaps i'm simply trying to make you envious.
I think writing about such experiences has to do, in part, with the freedom that writing allows you over speech. I may tell of this experience over the phone or face to face to my dearest friend, but to say some of what i write would feel awkward. Writing lets you go more into detail, right? Say the things that went through your mind at that moment, but that would be too awkward or out of place to repeat in regular conversation...
Or perhaps all this additional stuff is just an indicator that i write in a very stilted way. Should one write precisely in the way that one says things? There has to be a balance, i think, but how does one find it? After all, the amount of what one speaks is part of the way one does it, and sometimes there are days in which people won't speak the number of words they need to write a single paragraph. Does that mind they shouldn't write?
Blarb blarb. Got to go to norwegian class.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Love at first hearing
If, either from the title of the entry or from my track record (?), you thought i was gonna be writing about someone i met on the computer or over the phone... well, you'll be disappointed. Basically, i just feel on the clouds with my classes. They make me giddy sometimes! I may have finally found my vocation, or maybe it's still the buzz of being a student again after 7 years. And no, i'm not smoking anything.
Anyway, i'm taking three courses this term, one cooler than the next. The first one is First Language Acquisition, in which we study how the ability to communicate develops in people. To say something about it, consider how hard it is to learn a second language well; yet by the age of five children have already learnt almost everything there's to know about their native language/s (they will keep adding vocabulary throughout life, but that's pretty much it). Think of the contrast in beginning conditions, too! By the time you attempt to learn a second language you already know, at least, that the strings of sound you hear are made up of individual words, that there are certain ways in which these can be put together, and that words are associated with concrete meaning. But how do you figure this out when you're a baby? I mean, even if you notice that the sound "cat" is associated with that furry thing that wanders around the house, how do you know "cat" doesn't mean "furriness", or "wandering" or "stripes in a tabby pattern"?
Did you know that at 4 days of age children can already distinguish the main language spoken around them from others? That at two months, after hearing a few sentences in a language, they can distinguish that language from most others, but that later in life they seem to lose this ability? (by the way, can you think of any way in which you could test this info? After all, children that young cannot speak, right? So how can one figure out what they can and cannot do? Impossible? Well, think again...).
The other two classes i'm taking are phonology and syntax. Basically the two look at how languages are put together, but since languages have many different layers of structure, phonology focuses on the level of words, and syntax on the level of phrases or sentences (other levels are phonetics, which deals with individual sounds and their production, organization and reception; semantics, which looks at how meaning is created and transmitted... Plus, there are areas of linguistics that look at the interfaces between the different levels: phonetics-phonology-syntax-semantics). Basically, these disciplines both attempt to tease out the simplest and most explicit set of rules that can describe the structure of language, its reason for being, and its evolution. In fact, the intention is to find a set of rules that will do this for all languages together. Sounds crazy? Well, it certainly is a grandiose view. But then again, physics wants to describe the whole universe, and nobody's complaining...
All of this work is based on the assumption that the language ability is innate, codified in the human brain to quite a large extent. Therefore, all languages will share "mechanic" characteristics that cannot lay outside of certain parameters. The search for those parameters is another way of looking at the linguistics enterprise.
The linguistic revolution began in the 1950s with Noam Chomsky, who postulated much of the above. If you haven't heard of any linguistics revolution, well, right now you're staring at a product of it... I mean your computer, dummy! IT owes a lot to linguistics (i mean Information Technology in general, not your computer in particular). What happens is, if you understand the methodological rules behind such a big part of brain-output as language, then you are actually getting a very revealing look at the internal workings of the brain. Now, if you can somehow duplicate this mechanisms on a machine... Voilá! You have a computer program.
Those annoying squiggly green lines that appear underneath ungrammatical phrases when you're writing your ToK essays are the least of it, too! Speech recognition, programming languages...
Of course, there is also a lot of debate. Is language really innate? If so, to what extent?
Anyway, i'm pooped. Going to bed...
Anyway, i'm taking three courses this term, one cooler than the next. The first one is First Language Acquisition, in which we study how the ability to communicate develops in people. To say something about it, consider how hard it is to learn a second language well; yet by the age of five children have already learnt almost everything there's to know about their native language/s (they will keep adding vocabulary throughout life, but that's pretty much it). Think of the contrast in beginning conditions, too! By the time you attempt to learn a second language you already know, at least, that the strings of sound you hear are made up of individual words, that there are certain ways in which these can be put together, and that words are associated with concrete meaning. But how do you figure this out when you're a baby? I mean, even if you notice that the sound "cat" is associated with that furry thing that wanders around the house, how do you know "cat" doesn't mean "furriness", or "wandering" or "stripes in a tabby pattern"?
Did you know that at 4 days of age children can already distinguish the main language spoken around them from others? That at two months, after hearing a few sentences in a language, they can distinguish that language from most others, but that later in life they seem to lose this ability? (by the way, can you think of any way in which you could test this info? After all, children that young cannot speak, right? So how can one figure out what they can and cannot do? Impossible? Well, think again...).
The other two classes i'm taking are phonology and syntax. Basically the two look at how languages are put together, but since languages have many different layers of structure, phonology focuses on the level of words, and syntax on the level of phrases or sentences (other levels are phonetics, which deals with individual sounds and their production, organization and reception; semantics, which looks at how meaning is created and transmitted... Plus, there are areas of linguistics that look at the interfaces between the different levels: phonetics-phonology-syntax-semantics). Basically, these disciplines both attempt to tease out the simplest and most explicit set of rules that can describe the structure of language, its reason for being, and its evolution. In fact, the intention is to find a set of rules that will do this for all languages together. Sounds crazy? Well, it certainly is a grandiose view. But then again, physics wants to describe the whole universe, and nobody's complaining...
All of this work is based on the assumption that the language ability is innate, codified in the human brain to quite a large extent. Therefore, all languages will share "mechanic" characteristics that cannot lay outside of certain parameters. The search for those parameters is another way of looking at the linguistics enterprise.
The linguistic revolution began in the 1950s with Noam Chomsky, who postulated much of the above. If you haven't heard of any linguistics revolution, well, right now you're staring at a product of it... I mean your computer, dummy! IT owes a lot to linguistics (i mean Information Technology in general, not your computer in particular). What happens is, if you understand the methodological rules behind such a big part of brain-output as language, then you are actually getting a very revealing look at the internal workings of the brain. Now, if you can somehow duplicate this mechanisms on a machine... Voilá! You have a computer program.
Those annoying squiggly green lines that appear underneath ungrammatical phrases when you're writing your ToK essays are the least of it, too! Speech recognition, programming languages...
Of course, there is also a lot of debate. Is language really innate? If so, to what extent?
Anyway, i'm pooped. Going to bed...
Thursday, September 07, 2006
On arrows and crosses
Today us students presented the reading material in the First Language Acquisition class, instead of the teacher. She thought it would be good practice, i suppose, and a nice way of gauging our understanding without too much pressure (!). Anyway, it was fun, particularly because we didn't get to the article i was supposed to talk about. Har-har.
Some of the experiments dealt with how infants of each gender reacted upon being exposed to different sets of auditory stimuli. This bit was presented by my classmate Ksenia. She did a good job of it, but i want to write about a detail of her presentation that has nothing to do with linguistics.
You see, when she was drawing a graph to summarize the experiment, she represented the sexes with the traditional circle-and-cross symbol for girls, and circle-and-arrow symbol for boys... Except that, whereas i'd always seen the arrow placed on top of the circle, pointing up and kinda cocked (oops!) to the left, she placed it precisely underneath, centered and pointing down. I´d never stopped to really think about these little drawings, and so my mind just wandered away from the class, now. Luckily i'd already read the article...
OK, so i started pondering, kinda disconnectedly:
The "+" under the circle represents the vagina, and the arrow on top of it is the penis, right? Direct indeed, but one possible representation of sexual organs. Plus, don't tell me you hadn't thought of this, 'cause your mama may believe you, but i won't.
But why a "+"? Am definitely not an expert in this, but i think a vagina does not look like that. "|" might be a more accurate representation, or even "|" with a dot on top. As for the penis, the arrow is, albeit marginally, a more ideographically accurate depiction of it, whatever direction it may be pointing. Gotta get back to this issue of direction, though...
Next question: if the arrow and the cross represent the sexual organs, what do the circles stand for? Maybe the body, the torso... In that case, the cross is placed more or less accurately for women, but the arrow on top of the circle suggests that penises cap the necks of men, and that their heads are always cocked (oops again) to the left. Such an image tends to reinforce folk knowledge of the type "Men think with their dicks". Could the symbol be reflecting this kind of idea? If that's the case, the word "dickhead" would stop being an insult and become a simple statement when applied to any carrier of the y-chromosome.
However, if what the circle represents is the crotch, the arrow can indeed be placed on top of the circle. Nevertheless, the fact that this is so consistently the case may signal both an intention to mislead or great insecurity -- in the creators of the symbol, at least. That Ksenia drew the arrow pointing down is equally accurate, as anyone who knows a penis can assert. A possible compromise might be to draw a symbol with arrows pointing simultaneously up and down, but this might also confuse, as anyone who knows elementary biology can also assert.
As for femaleness, if we assign the value of "crotch" to the circle, the "+" or the "|" should be within it, since the vagina does not project from the crotch in any way, but is, indeed, within it. This new symbol would probably be much more liable to criticism (imagine :"A cross within a circle??? What do women think they are, the centre of the world???") but personally, i think it should be adopted anyway. Increased anti-establishment criticism directed towards women would mean there has been an equalization of genders within mainstream society.
So, next, one should look at the symbols of the cross and the arrow by themselves, away from their relationship to the circle.
That "x" marks the (G) spot is no mystery. What might you find underneath it? A treasure, perhaps? The place in the map where you want to get to, definitely. All kinds of symbolic thinking sprout from those too little intersecting lines.
As for the arrow... Well, we all know that men are warlike and violent, so giving them a penis that can also function as a weapon can only make them happy, right? Plus, you know, an arrow pierces, shoots... Crude, but fitting, particularly since in certain cultural environments such weapon-related terms are often used to refer to the penis or its functions (am back in linguistics arena! yay!).
Let's turn to history a little now. We know that these two symbols were used in antiquity (and still are, in astronomy) to mean Venus and Mars, and that the planets themselves were associated with greco-roman gods. That Venus, a goddess whose main attribute was the dispensation of love and beauty, is even today so closely associated with womanhood, really gives one pause. The same goes for Mars -god of war- and men.
I read somewhere that we people do all of our thinking in terms of symbols. We tie them and connect them in all sorts of ways and at different levels, and most of the time we don't even stop to look what we've done, so who knows the kind of tangles we end up with! Perhaps this is why noticing a little change in one symbol can induce us to retrace all its connection, and for once we really start thinking about what we really think...
This sounds like something that could be used in teaching, too: familiarize people with sets of situations or reasoning patterns, and then change little things, one at a time. Good way to induce questioning, to give people time to understand complexity, to build it themselves step by step, and own it... But wait, am not a teacher anymore. At least for now. So, stop! Although one may wonder what kind of student i am, if the mind wanders so in the middle of a class...
The regular type of student, i suppose.
Well, there must be bunches of books about all this sexual symbolism stuff, some of it probably quite interesting... I don´t think i'll look anything up, though. Got too many other readings assigned, so this bit of mental farting will have to suffice for now.
Some of the experiments dealt with how infants of each gender reacted upon being exposed to different sets of auditory stimuli. This bit was presented by my classmate Ksenia. She did a good job of it, but i want to write about a detail of her presentation that has nothing to do with linguistics.
You see, when she was drawing a graph to summarize the experiment, she represented the sexes with the traditional circle-and-cross symbol for girls, and circle-and-arrow symbol for boys... Except that, whereas i'd always seen the arrow placed on top of the circle, pointing up and kinda cocked (oops!) to the left, she placed it precisely underneath, centered and pointing down. I´d never stopped to really think about these little drawings, and so my mind just wandered away from the class, now. Luckily i'd already read the article...
OK, so i started pondering, kinda disconnectedly:
The "+" under the circle represents the vagina, and the arrow on top of it is the penis, right? Direct indeed, but one possible representation of sexual organs. Plus, don't tell me you hadn't thought of this, 'cause your mama may believe you, but i won't.
But why a "+"? Am definitely not an expert in this, but i think a vagina does not look like that. "|" might be a more accurate representation, or even "|" with a dot on top. As for the penis, the arrow is, albeit marginally, a more ideographically accurate depiction of it, whatever direction it may be pointing. Gotta get back to this issue of direction, though...
Next question: if the arrow and the cross represent the sexual organs, what do the circles stand for? Maybe the body, the torso... In that case, the cross is placed more or less accurately for women, but the arrow on top of the circle suggests that penises cap the necks of men, and that their heads are always cocked (oops again) to the left. Such an image tends to reinforce folk knowledge of the type "Men think with their dicks". Could the symbol be reflecting this kind of idea? If that's the case, the word "dickhead" would stop being an insult and become a simple statement when applied to any carrier of the y-chromosome.
However, if what the circle represents is the crotch, the arrow can indeed be placed on top of the circle. Nevertheless, the fact that this is so consistently the case may signal both an intention to mislead or great insecurity -- in the creators of the symbol, at least. That Ksenia drew the arrow pointing down is equally accurate, as anyone who knows a penis can assert. A possible compromise might be to draw a symbol with arrows pointing simultaneously up and down, but this might also confuse, as anyone who knows elementary biology can also assert.
As for femaleness, if we assign the value of "crotch" to the circle, the "+" or the "|" should be within it, since the vagina does not project from the crotch in any way, but is, indeed, within it. This new symbol would probably be much more liable to criticism (imagine :"A cross within a circle??? What do women think they are, the centre of the world???") but personally, i think it should be adopted anyway. Increased anti-establishment criticism directed towards women would mean there has been an equalization of genders within mainstream society.
So, next, one should look at the symbols of the cross and the arrow by themselves, away from their relationship to the circle.
That "x" marks the (G) spot is no mystery. What might you find underneath it? A treasure, perhaps? The place in the map where you want to get to, definitely. All kinds of symbolic thinking sprout from those too little intersecting lines.
As for the arrow... Well, we all know that men are warlike and violent, so giving them a penis that can also function as a weapon can only make them happy, right? Plus, you know, an arrow pierces, shoots... Crude, but fitting, particularly since in certain cultural environments such weapon-related terms are often used to refer to the penis or its functions (am back in linguistics arena! yay!).
Let's turn to history a little now. We know that these two symbols were used in antiquity (and still are, in astronomy) to mean Venus and Mars, and that the planets themselves were associated with greco-roman gods. That Venus, a goddess whose main attribute was the dispensation of love and beauty, is even today so closely associated with womanhood, really gives one pause. The same goes for Mars -god of war- and men.
I read somewhere that we people do all of our thinking in terms of symbols. We tie them and connect them in all sorts of ways and at different levels, and most of the time we don't even stop to look what we've done, so who knows the kind of tangles we end up with! Perhaps this is why noticing a little change in one symbol can induce us to retrace all its connection, and for once we really start thinking about what we really think...
This sounds like something that could be used in teaching, too: familiarize people with sets of situations or reasoning patterns, and then change little things, one at a time. Good way to induce questioning, to give people time to understand complexity, to build it themselves step by step, and own it... But wait, am not a teacher anymore. At least for now. So, stop! Although one may wonder what kind of student i am, if the mind wanders so in the middle of a class...
The regular type of student, i suppose.
Well, there must be bunches of books about all this sexual symbolism stuff, some of it probably quite interesting... I don´t think i'll look anything up, though. Got too many other readings assigned, so this bit of mental farting will have to suffice for now.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Dykking
Yesterday i started attending a two week diving course. It's a bit expensive (particularly now that i'm a student!) but since the teaching and the textbooks are in norwegian, i figure i'll be doing some language practice, too; more value for my kroner, i tell my conscience. It seems convinced. For the moment.
The first lesson consisted of two hours of lecturing, a couple of quizzes, and some practice on how to put together the vest, tank and hosing. I understood the theory and did the hands-on stuff quite ok, but the vocabulary in some of the quiz questions gave me trouble. I asked the teacher and the guy next to me about the meaning of a few words, but next time i'll just bring the dictionary along, so as not to seem so totally out of it.
As for the social aspect, well, no dictionary can help there! You know how it is: a small group of new people, everybody excited about the course, friendly, bantering, getting to know each other... My social skills are not very good even in the best of circumstances; in those hours, with norwegian stereo-surround, my brain squeezed to the utmost just to be able to extract the most general sense out of what people were saying, i simply became almost mute. I was so concentrated i even forgot to smile and nod, sometimes. My classmates and the teacher must have either found me totally morose, or been about to call a proctologist to get the stick out of my arse. Either way, it can only get better now.
The first lesson consisted of two hours of lecturing, a couple of quizzes, and some practice on how to put together the vest, tank and hosing. I understood the theory and did the hands-on stuff quite ok, but the vocabulary in some of the quiz questions gave me trouble. I asked the teacher and the guy next to me about the meaning of a few words, but next time i'll just bring the dictionary along, so as not to seem so totally out of it.
As for the social aspect, well, no dictionary can help there! You know how it is: a small group of new people, everybody excited about the course, friendly, bantering, getting to know each other... My social skills are not very good even in the best of circumstances; in those hours, with norwegian stereo-surround, my brain squeezed to the utmost just to be able to extract the most general sense out of what people were saying, i simply became almost mute. I was so concentrated i even forgot to smile and nod, sometimes. My classmates and the teacher must have either found me totally morose, or been about to call a proctologist to get the stick out of my arse. Either way, it can only get better now.
The robot
Just woke up from the weirdest dream. Weird not only content-wise, but also full of little details which i don't usually remember from my dreams, if they're there at all...
Anyway, i was a student at UiTø, as i am in the waking world, except that instead of linguistics i was studying robotics. I know the dream was happening here because, although we were in a classroom i've never seen, the other students were people i've met around. At the same time, i remember thinking "i thought they didn't offer robotics at this place!" and feeling fortunate that in fact, they did. By the way, in reality they do not, but i'm ok.
The professor was this cute norwegian classmate from the phonology course, except he wore a black hat and had long, curly sideburns, like a hasidim. He said "today we're gonna have a practical lesson, so pick up your stuff and follow me." We did, and he took us to the secretary's counter, who introduced us to her robot and her husband, both one and the same: a chunky, squat, old fashioned telephone covered in pink, fluffy fabric. In the dream this seemed absolutely natural, as weird stuff usually does in dreams. Or it does in my dreams, at least. Of course, i know that robots are defined by their having moving parts, and that so far they don't marry people, however much Asimov may have written about that; as for the moving ability that could have made a robot of the telephone, well, in the dream he kept still, but perhaps he was simply a very quiet robot (and yes, you've noticed rightly: everybody referred to the robot as "he", though there was no physical evidence of gender anyone could discern).
The secretary went on to explain to us that he was very friendly and not only accompanied her to work, but stayed there to help her. She said other stuff to introduce him, but i don't remember what it was. I was whispering a translation of all this to some of the spanish Erasmus students, whose english is not soo good in actuality, either. The phone itself was, as i've said, very quiet. Either shy or stuck-up, i thought.
We were all clustered around the secretary's counter, in a bend of the corridor. When she was done talking the professor handed out photocopies with three questions that we were to discuss in our own little groups. I was with the spaniards again, plus a short french girl called Violette and others whose names i don't know yet. We all sat down in a circle on the corridor floor, and started working. I remember thinking that we were too close to the counter and felt a bit embarrassed that the secretary or the phone might hear us talking about their lives. One of the spanish girls apparently felt the same and whispered to me "shouldn't the professor have organized this better?".
The questions themselves have faded a little... I remember there being 4 pages in total, with technical-looking graphs tucked in the corners. One of the questions listed all the things that the robot did for the secretary (like, he was connected to all domestic implements in their house and could fix them and work them) and then went on to ask what else could the robot do for his wife. None of us sniggered or raised eyebrows at this question. Apparently, in the dream not only was it a given that he could do that for her, but it was such a non-issue that nobody even thought of bringing it up.
Raindrops splattering on my windowsill woke me up while we were still at work. This was 25 minutes ago and now i gotta get ready for phonology class. Wonder if the cute norwegian will show up today.
Anyway, i was a student at UiTø, as i am in the waking world, except that instead of linguistics i was studying robotics. I know the dream was happening here because, although we were in a classroom i've never seen, the other students were people i've met around. At the same time, i remember thinking "i thought they didn't offer robotics at this place!" and feeling fortunate that in fact, they did. By the way, in reality they do not, but i'm ok.
The professor was this cute norwegian classmate from the phonology course, except he wore a black hat and had long, curly sideburns, like a hasidim. He said "today we're gonna have a practical lesson, so pick up your stuff and follow me." We did, and he took us to the secretary's counter, who introduced us to her robot and her husband, both one and the same: a chunky, squat, old fashioned telephone covered in pink, fluffy fabric. In the dream this seemed absolutely natural, as weird stuff usually does in dreams. Or it does in my dreams, at least. Of course, i know that robots are defined by their having moving parts, and that so far they don't marry people, however much Asimov may have written about that; as for the moving ability that could have made a robot of the telephone, well, in the dream he kept still, but perhaps he was simply a very quiet robot (and yes, you've noticed rightly: everybody referred to the robot as "he", though there was no physical evidence of gender anyone could discern).
The secretary went on to explain to us that he was very friendly and not only accompanied her to work, but stayed there to help her. She said other stuff to introduce him, but i don't remember what it was. I was whispering a translation of all this to some of the spanish Erasmus students, whose english is not soo good in actuality, either. The phone itself was, as i've said, very quiet. Either shy or stuck-up, i thought.
We were all clustered around the secretary's counter, in a bend of the corridor. When she was done talking the professor handed out photocopies with three questions that we were to discuss in our own little groups. I was with the spaniards again, plus a short french girl called Violette and others whose names i don't know yet. We all sat down in a circle on the corridor floor, and started working. I remember thinking that we were too close to the counter and felt a bit embarrassed that the secretary or the phone might hear us talking about their lives. One of the spanish girls apparently felt the same and whispered to me "shouldn't the professor have organized this better?".
The questions themselves have faded a little... I remember there being 4 pages in total, with technical-looking graphs tucked in the corners. One of the questions listed all the things that the robot did for the secretary (like, he was connected to all domestic implements in their house and could fix them and work them) and then went on to ask what else could the robot do for his wife. None of us sniggered or raised eyebrows at this question. Apparently, in the dream not only was it a given that he could do that for her, but it was such a non-issue that nobody even thought of bringing it up.
Raindrops splattering on my windowsill woke me up while we were still at work. This was 25 minutes ago and now i gotta get ready for phonology class. Wonder if the cute norwegian will show up today.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Poufs
Recently i read the novel "Death Trick", by Richard Stevenson. Here's a short passage:
Bowman lost no time in showing me his winning personality. "Yeah, I've heard of you," he said after I'd introduced myself. "You're the pouf."
"What ever happened to 'pervert'?" I said. "I always liked that one better. It had a nice lubricious ring to it. 'Faggot,' too, I was comfortable with. The word had a defiant edge that I liked. 'Fairy' wasn't bad--it made us seem weak, which was misleading, but also a bit magical, which was wrong, too, but still okay. 'Pouf,' on the other hand, I never went for. It made us sound as if we were about to disappear. Which we aren't."
Bowman lost no time in showing me his winning personality. "Yeah, I've heard of you," he said after I'd introduced myself. "You're the pouf."
"What ever happened to 'pervert'?" I said. "I always liked that one better. It had a nice lubricious ring to it. 'Faggot,' too, I was comfortable with. The word had a defiant edge that I liked. 'Fairy' wasn't bad--it made us seem weak, which was misleading, but also a bit magical, which was wrong, too, but still okay. 'Pouf,' on the other hand, I never went for. It made us sound as if we were about to disappear. Which we aren't."
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Real estate
If you're 32 years old you should be married, have a well established job, and be thinking of your retirement. Ideally, you should also start looking for some real estate (careful nobody slips you some of the false kind); i mean, how and where will you live when you're old?
As a kid you watched cartoons that drilled into you the fable of the cicada and the ant in three or four different versions. In high school you read La Fontaine, and discussed his morals in Sunday school. You know workers contribute monthly, during fourty years, to private pension plans -- or instituted by the government, as they may be; you also know that when they retire it's not uncommon for them to have trouble making ends meet. People shake their heads and comment on the bad economy, saying that the old are too many to have to be supported by the present working force (those 40 years of contributions... well, that's like, before you were born, so technically they never existed).
So, it is wise to think ahead. Build around yourself as stable a situation as possible. Have a place to tether yourself to, so that no matter how the years flow, nothing can uproot you. Nothing can tempt you away. Pay back your loan for three decades and repaint the facade every three summers, so that if and when you reach old age... Well, you'll still have all that stability around you. Hopefully the loan will be fully paid, and someone can paint the facade for you when you can no longer climb the ladder yourself.
- - - - - -
I don't mind climbing ladders for my neighbours, and i think that, like me, there are many people who don't, either. And since there are always times in life when we need others to climb ladders for us, what is all the fuss about? We all get there, and either you're lucky to have someone who'll do it for you, or you won't.
Why are we so scared of getting old? And why are we so obsessed with paying?
We think of ancient Egypt and yes, we're awed by their achievements. But don't we also think they were deluded, to have organized their lives around the point beyond which it no longer existed? I mean, come on!!! Spend 40 years and the resources of a nation to build a pyramid around your yet non-existent corpse? Please!
Mind you, i'm not saying that old age is a dead time. I'm sure --i've seen-- it can be full of experiences, satisfying affections, learning, interests, passions, cares... And when i'm 82, i'll feel and do whatever it is i need to then. Now, however, i am not.
- - - - - - - - -
Anyways, all of this came up because i read on the paper that there's a big slump in the real estate market in the US. I don't dare hope this means young people today are finally seeing the trap in front of them and refraining from falling into it. But it'd be great, wouldn't it?
Imagine: you can live anywhere you want. Everywhere there are good schools for your kids, good doctors, easy access to information. You work in what you want, and your earnings are not invested in catering to your fears (for if you're covering your ass 40 years in advance, that's who you're catering to), but in developing yourself, your community, your species, your planet. The idea is to maximize the availability of enjoyment and learning opportunities for everyone.
Imagine the challenge of building places for people to live just for the sheer fun of it. After all, people are there, resources are there, a nature to be respected is there. Interesting equation to balance out! And since all your needs are covered, and fun can be had any time you want... Well, you'll either find something demanding to occupy your attention, or die of boredom!
- - - - - - -
This is the world i want to live in. I think it's possible.
It's also possible that if people content themselves with renting instead of buying real estate, this ends up falling in bulk into the hands of investors. At the beginning they rent it out at moderate prices, but as they become richer and richer, they begin to compete: they try to make more money to buy property off each other. They cut corners and prices go up. Since they have so much money, they control governments. Living standards fall. The Second Middle Ages are upon us.
- - - - - - -
Seriously, though. Let's be realists. You live in society as it is today. It may still function by pretty similar rules in a few decades, when you're no longer able to work for money (as an argentinean, however, i can tell you: don't count on it). What will you do then?
Granted, one must think of the future to some extent. If you're living in the polar circle, not to have any jackets for the winter would be quite stupid, regardless of how sunny it's been lately, right? So, you'll save some money, get on board a nice private pension plan with ethically sound investments.
But why BUY a place to live? I don't want to worry about leaking roofs, rotting pipes, taxes, loan interests nor paint jobs. If i want to move, i don't want to get stuck due to it being the wrong time to sell.
I'd rather pay rent for living space and not hock my freedom.
As a kid you watched cartoons that drilled into you the fable of the cicada and the ant in three or four different versions. In high school you read La Fontaine, and discussed his morals in Sunday school. You know workers contribute monthly, during fourty years, to private pension plans -- or instituted by the government, as they may be; you also know that when they retire it's not uncommon for them to have trouble making ends meet. People shake their heads and comment on the bad economy, saying that the old are too many to have to be supported by the present working force (those 40 years of contributions... well, that's like, before you were born, so technically they never existed).
So, it is wise to think ahead. Build around yourself as stable a situation as possible. Have a place to tether yourself to, so that no matter how the years flow, nothing can uproot you. Nothing can tempt you away. Pay back your loan for three decades and repaint the facade every three summers, so that if and when you reach old age... Well, you'll still have all that stability around you. Hopefully the loan will be fully paid, and someone can paint the facade for you when you can no longer climb the ladder yourself.
- - - - - -
I don't mind climbing ladders for my neighbours, and i think that, like me, there are many people who don't, either. And since there are always times in life when we need others to climb ladders for us, what is all the fuss about? We all get there, and either you're lucky to have someone who'll do it for you, or you won't.
Why are we so scared of getting old? And why are we so obsessed with paying?
We think of ancient Egypt and yes, we're awed by their achievements. But don't we also think they were deluded, to have organized their lives around the point beyond which it no longer existed? I mean, come on!!! Spend 40 years and the resources of a nation to build a pyramid around your yet non-existent corpse? Please!
Mind you, i'm not saying that old age is a dead time. I'm sure --i've seen-- it can be full of experiences, satisfying affections, learning, interests, passions, cares... And when i'm 82, i'll feel and do whatever it is i need to then. Now, however, i am not.
- - - - - - - - -
Anyways, all of this came up because i read on the paper that there's a big slump in the real estate market in the US. I don't dare hope this means young people today are finally seeing the trap in front of them and refraining from falling into it. But it'd be great, wouldn't it?
Imagine: you can live anywhere you want. Everywhere there are good schools for your kids, good doctors, easy access to information. You work in what you want, and your earnings are not invested in catering to your fears (for if you're covering your ass 40 years in advance, that's who you're catering to), but in developing yourself, your community, your species, your planet. The idea is to maximize the availability of enjoyment and learning opportunities for everyone.
Imagine the challenge of building places for people to live just for the sheer fun of it. After all, people are there, resources are there, a nature to be respected is there. Interesting equation to balance out! And since all your needs are covered, and fun can be had any time you want... Well, you'll either find something demanding to occupy your attention, or die of boredom!
- - - - - - -
This is the world i want to live in. I think it's possible.
It's also possible that if people content themselves with renting instead of buying real estate, this ends up falling in bulk into the hands of investors. At the beginning they rent it out at moderate prices, but as they become richer and richer, they begin to compete: they try to make more money to buy property off each other. They cut corners and prices go up. Since they have so much money, they control governments. Living standards fall. The Second Middle Ages are upon us.
- - - - - - -
Seriously, though. Let's be realists. You live in society as it is today. It may still function by pretty similar rules in a few decades, when you're no longer able to work for money (as an argentinean, however, i can tell you: don't count on it). What will you do then?
Granted, one must think of the future to some extent. If you're living in the polar circle, not to have any jackets for the winter would be quite stupid, regardless of how sunny it's been lately, right? So, you'll save some money, get on board a nice private pension plan with ethically sound investments.
But why BUY a place to live? I don't want to worry about leaking roofs, rotting pipes, taxes, loan interests nor paint jobs. If i want to move, i don't want to get stuck due to it being the wrong time to sell.
I'd rather pay rent for living space and not hock my freedom.
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