My final semester at the U of A is shaping up to be the most challenging one yet. That's not such a surprise considering that I have to take 18 credits, just like last semester, in order to graduate in May, but this one looks like it will be even more demanding than the last one. Each and every class is reading intensive and a fair amount of writing is heaped in there as well. The tactic among all my professors seems to be to assign a massive amount of reading right at the very beginning of the semester, then reduce it to a more reasonable load. I'm guessing this is to kill off the free loaders right away, but it also makes life a living hell for the people who are committed. The combined number of pages I had assigned at the very beginning of the semester was around 460. And that's not even counting the Swedish book I have to read. It's entertaining translating it for a little while—when the tension starts building every word you don't understand becomes a cliffhanger—but soon you get tired of having to look up every other word. Thankfully things have already smoothed out a lot and I can make it to about every tenth word now without having to look it up.
The classes themselves are, for the most part pretty good. "The History of Modern Britain" is actually rather interesting. It's really just a long tale of military victories, political cunning and exploration, interspersed with insights into their laws and traditions that seem almost alien. My other non-anthropology class is "Love, Decay and Madness in Vienna" and is really, really good. It's cultural history so while there's some dry historical context we have to read through, the meat of the class are poetry, prose and plays. The professor is perhaps the most professorly professor I have ever had. Bespectacled with slightly messy white hair and a goatee, he speaks with a deep resonating voice and a cadence not unlike Donald Sutherland. His use of German pronunciation when talking about authors and concepts belies no trace of conceitedness but speaks to his ability with and comprehension of the German language.
My first anthropology class, "Culture and the Individual" is taught by the same eccentric, enthusiastic professor that taught my very first cultural anthro class. A little more confident than he was three years ago, he teaches how the many ways identity is seen in different culutes and how the modern Western view was shaped through time. He's a fun guy, even though he completely spoiled Memento before I ever had a chance to see it.
My other anthro class, "Cultural Astronomy" is my least favorite in nearly every way. The mounds of readings that are utterly pointless (one reading's hypothesis was essentially "We expect to find only A or only B. But it might be a little of both. Or neither." and whose conclusion was "Further research is required.") which we then have to discuss in class. Since the readings don't really assert any opinions and the only way we could discuss their findings is if we actually had firsthand knowledge of the archaeological sites the discussions mainly involve us silently looking down trying to avoid having to answer the ridiculously specific questions offered by the discussion leader. As if that wasn't bad enough, when we do have a reading that is worthy of discussion the people who chime in give the most stereotypical college drivel. As I recall, very few of the students are anthro majors so I guess they really don't know any better, but I can only excuse them so much.
A typical discussion might go as follows:
A: "It seems to me this culture has a rather Cartesian, mechanistic cosmology. One that emphasizes the scientia over the mythos."
B: "But who are we to say what is or isn't mythology? I mean, all these definitions were all invented by rich white men (an attempt, I suspect, to ingratiate herself with our black, female teacher)"
C: "But if you think about it, isn't not having a definition just a definition in itself?"
It's rare that I get all three of my least favorite things to be said all said in one class. I'd smack each of them in the face if I could.
Well, here's hoping the good classes stay good and the bad one get better. And that my workload will not be the hellish nightmare I foresee it will be.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Monday, February 04, 2008
Språk
Swedish is a fun language. Aside from the fact that I can curse at people in a normal speaking voice and not a soul will understand me, there are all sorts of weird words and phrases that give the language a unique flavor. Take the word for jealousy, avundsjucka, it literally means "envy sick". It seems to suggest that the Swedes regard jealousy/envy (curiously, the Swedes don't seem to make a distinction between the two terms) as a sickness, something which afflicts someone, rather than a personality trait. I rather like that implicit interpretation, just like the symptoms of the common cold are nothing permanent, jealousy is something that infects us but can be cured.
I recently learned from my Swedish class there are two ways to say "will". There's the regular ska, which my tutor says denotes roughly an 80% certainty, and kommer att, which denotes a 90-95% certainty. So for a while when I wanted to say "I will fly to Sweden" I would have said "Jag ska flygga till Sverige" but now that I've bought the tickets, I'd say "Jag kommer flygga att till Sverige". The Swedes apparently can hear a situational difference between the two and it would sound weird to them to use the wrong one.
One of the eternally confusing things about Swedish (and many Germanic languages, for that matter) is their insistence upon combining words together while we would simply have a phrase. There wouldn't be a problem with this except for the fact that a lot of their words are combinations of other words already. So when you come across one of these you can't be sure if it's a phrase or a word and picking apart a word as though it was phrase only makes things more confusing. For example, nymodig means "modern", but if you thought it was a combination of words you'd translate it as ny (new) modighet (courage). This happens to be one of the more charming instances of picking apart Swedish words, it's so fitting that modernity then is "new courageousness". It just sounds so progressive and optimistic. There's also gammalmodig, which means "old-fashioned", and if picked apart you'd get "old brave". I thought that made nymodig even more charming because not only is it brave to embrace the future, but so is holding on to tradition and heritage. Then I found out from my teacher that mod in this case is more akin to "mode" in English and that it's just "new mode" and "old mode". But by God, I still say there's something to it! Swedes should know this better than anyone: there is something to be said about retaining the old while embracing the new. I for one believe in modighet, both ny and gammal!
I recently learned from my Swedish class there are two ways to say "will". There's the regular ska, which my tutor says denotes roughly an 80% certainty, and kommer att, which denotes a 90-95% certainty. So for a while when I wanted to say "I will fly to Sweden" I would have said "Jag ska flygga till Sverige" but now that I've bought the tickets, I'd say "Jag kommer flygga att till Sverige". The Swedes apparently can hear a situational difference between the two and it would sound weird to them to use the wrong one.
One of the eternally confusing things about Swedish (and many Germanic languages, for that matter) is their insistence upon combining words together while we would simply have a phrase. There wouldn't be a problem with this except for the fact that a lot of their words are combinations of other words already. So when you come across one of these you can't be sure if it's a phrase or a word and picking apart a word as though it was phrase only makes things more confusing. For example, nymodig means "modern", but if you thought it was a combination of words you'd translate it as ny (new) modighet (courage). This happens to be one of the more charming instances of picking apart Swedish words, it's so fitting that modernity then is "new courageousness". It just sounds so progressive and optimistic. There's also gammalmodig, which means "old-fashioned", and if picked apart you'd get "old brave". I thought that made nymodig even more charming because not only is it brave to embrace the future, but so is holding on to tradition and heritage. Then I found out from my teacher that mod in this case is more akin to "mode" in English and that it's just "new mode" and "old mode". But by God, I still say there's something to it! Swedes should know this better than anyone: there is something to be said about retaining the old while embracing the new. I for one believe in modighet, both ny and gammal!
Friday, January 25, 2008
I got you babe
The very first time I went on a ski trip was two years ago with the V-Dala international club in Uppsala. We went to this ski town called Romme, which incidentally is in the province the Swedish Chef supposedly hails from. My girlfriend at the time was a snowboarder and suggested I try to ski instead since snowboarding is so much harder to learn and much more painful. So I took her advice, rented some skis and was all set to have my girlfriend teach me to ski. Unfortunately, critical pieces of information were left out from her instructions. Most notably, she didn't tell me how to brake until after I crashed into a barricade. After watching me fall a couple more times, she went off to go snowboard with her friends. Her last bits of advice to me before she left me to fend for myself were, as I recall, "Don't worry, just have fun!" and "There's only so much I can teach you, you have to learn it on your own." The next two hours were a Sisyphusian ordeal of walking up a hill, falling down, walking back up and falling down again, making absolutely no progress whatsoever. My day was cut short when my girlfriend injured herself while snowboarding and I kept her company for the duration of the trip.
Flashing forward to last weekend, I went on another ski trip—this time to Pinetop. Given the utter futility of my last attempt I was a little concerned about how well I would do. The slopes we went to didn't really have a practice area for noobs and so my education was a bit of a trial by fire. This ultimately proved to be a very good thing. The ski lifts, which I had never even made it to in Sweden, are a challenge in themselves. It is surprising, though, how natural it feels being on the ski lifts when any other time sitting on a shaky bench suspended fifty feet above a icy, rocky slope would be completely nerve wracking. Maybe it's because you can't really gauge distance as well cuz of the uniform whiteness of the snow, but whatever the reason the only time you feel even the slightest bit of acrophobia is when you pass the supporting towers. Getting on and off the lifts, on the other hand, is far more stressful. Though I only had one incident getting on the lift which resulted in me losing a ski, each time was a little frantic. You have to ski up to a red line, wait for the people ahead of you to get scooped up, then make a mad dash (which is really hard with skis) to the green line they were just standing at, align yourselves with the lift so you don't get picked up sideways, and sit down quickly when it scoops you up.
Disembarking never went well for me. Granted, if you don't know how to ski then it's no surprise that you fall when a machine is pushing you off. (That difficulty is compounded when you only have one ski.) The worst one was when I tried to push off the lift like I was told to do, but my glove got caught where the seat meets the side rail. When I pushed forward my right hand held me back and I fell on my ass. Still attached, I was whipped to the left–in what I can only imagine was a hilarious fashion– when the lift swung back around and took my glove with it. Thankfully, it threw the glove clear and my friend got it for me otherwise it would have been a short trip.
Skiing itself was really rough at first and snow plowing works muscles I was never even aware of. Just like before, I was told to make a wedge go slow down and narrow the wedge to speed up. Unlike before, my friends were skiing as well and not only demonstrated what to do but stayed with me the entire way. My progress was slow and there was still a lot of falling, but by the time I got down the mountain I had all the basics covered and could then actually enjoy skiing.
The next day I was able to jump right into it and while going down the mountain was able to notice some of the more subtle things about skiing and slopes in general. For instance, I quickly learned improved ways to turn and when I discovered this I asked myself, "Why didn't they teach me this? This is so much easier. All they had to do was say..." At that point I realized that, because it consisted of minute shifts and movements, it was something that could not really be explained or taught–you just had to learn it yourself. Thus, that claim as well as "just have fun" are useful things to know, but only after you've learned how to actually ski. If those are the only things someone tells you, no matter what you're trying to learn, then you need a new teacher.
Some assorted bits of wisdom I learned over the trip include:
-Asshole is a terribly vindictive game that, with the aid of alcohol, demonstrates the cruelty of human nature. And yet, it's surprisingly fun.
-Some people were born to play Guitar Hero. I am not one of those people.
-I do, however, have enough coordination to learn DDR.
-Jerks will prefer to snowboard rather than ski. This is demonstrated by the fact that you never see skiers stopped in the middle of the slope just hanging out or waiting for their friends.
-The "Easy Out" slope is so named not for its ease but because suicide is often called "the easy way out". Seriously, how are beginners supposed to successfully make a U-turn in a forest on a slope the width of a car lane?
-Arizona is probably the only place on Earth where one can find both avalanches and sand storms.
-Singing the theme song to "Speed Racer" in your head while skiing will only end badly.
And a word I learned from a 99 year old forestry book in the cabin: mensuration- the branch of geometry that deals with the measurement of length, area, or volume; the act or process of measuring. (I thought geometry was the measurement of length, area and volume)
Flashing forward to last weekend, I went on another ski trip—this time to Pinetop. Given the utter futility of my last attempt I was a little concerned about how well I would do. The slopes we went to didn't really have a practice area for noobs and so my education was a bit of a trial by fire. This ultimately proved to be a very good thing. The ski lifts, which I had never even made it to in Sweden, are a challenge in themselves. It is surprising, though, how natural it feels being on the ski lifts when any other time sitting on a shaky bench suspended fifty feet above a icy, rocky slope would be completely nerve wracking. Maybe it's because you can't really gauge distance as well cuz of the uniform whiteness of the snow, but whatever the reason the only time you feel even the slightest bit of acrophobia is when you pass the supporting towers. Getting on and off the lifts, on the other hand, is far more stressful. Though I only had one incident getting on the lift which resulted in me losing a ski, each time was a little frantic. You have to ski up to a red line, wait for the people ahead of you to get scooped up, then make a mad dash (which is really hard with skis) to the green line they were just standing at, align yourselves with the lift so you don't get picked up sideways, and sit down quickly when it scoops you up.
Disembarking never went well for me. Granted, if you don't know how to ski then it's no surprise that you fall when a machine is pushing you off. (That difficulty is compounded when you only have one ski.) The worst one was when I tried to push off the lift like I was told to do, but my glove got caught where the seat meets the side rail. When I pushed forward my right hand held me back and I fell on my ass. Still attached, I was whipped to the left–in what I can only imagine was a hilarious fashion– when the lift swung back around and took my glove with it. Thankfully, it threw the glove clear and my friend got it for me otherwise it would have been a short trip.
Skiing itself was really rough at first and snow plowing works muscles I was never even aware of. Just like before, I was told to make a wedge go slow down and narrow the wedge to speed up. Unlike before, my friends were skiing as well and not only demonstrated what to do but stayed with me the entire way. My progress was slow and there was still a lot of falling, but by the time I got down the mountain I had all the basics covered and could then actually enjoy skiing.
The next day I was able to jump right into it and while going down the mountain was able to notice some of the more subtle things about skiing and slopes in general. For instance, I quickly learned improved ways to turn and when I discovered this I asked myself, "Why didn't they teach me this? This is so much easier. All they had to do was say..." At that point I realized that, because it consisted of minute shifts and movements, it was something that could not really be explained or taught–you just had to learn it yourself. Thus, that claim as well as "just have fun" are useful things to know, but only after you've learned how to actually ski. If those are the only things someone tells you, no matter what you're trying to learn, then you need a new teacher.
Some assorted bits of wisdom I learned over the trip include:
-Asshole is a terribly vindictive game that, with the aid of alcohol, demonstrates the cruelty of human nature. And yet, it's surprisingly fun.
-Some people were born to play Guitar Hero. I am not one of those people.
-I do, however, have enough coordination to learn DDR.
-Jerks will prefer to snowboard rather than ski. This is demonstrated by the fact that you never see skiers stopped in the middle of the slope just hanging out or waiting for their friends.
-The "Easy Out" slope is so named not for its ease but because suicide is often called "the easy way out". Seriously, how are beginners supposed to successfully make a U-turn in a forest on a slope the width of a car lane?
-Arizona is probably the only place on Earth where one can find both avalanches and sand storms.
-Singing the theme song to "Speed Racer" in your head while skiing will only end badly.
And a word I learned from a 99 year old forestry book in the cabin: mensuration- the branch of geometry that deals with the measurement of length, area, or volume; the act or process of measuring. (I thought geometry was the measurement of length, area and volume)
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Yeesh
Aliens Vs. Predator-Requiem with the Predalien, the Predator and a bunch of human fodder. Fuck. I mean good Lord! Well, it was definitely an entertaining movie and they most certainly earned their R rating. I've heard the phrase "pornography of violence" before but never fully understood it's meaning, now I know. Everybody dies. Many in a most gruesome fashion. They pull no punches. Over the top? I'm going to go with perhaps. Had it been a standalone movie I would have gone with yes; the deaths of children, babies and pregnant women is indeed disturbing (had they actually shown the babies getting eaten I'm certain it would have gone from R, right past NC-17 to U: Unsuitable to ever be filmed) but because there already is a rich back story in the AvP universe it's simply expanding on it and the violence is simply the most effective tool to do so. While the other movies show soldiers getting killed you now see exactly what the Aliens do to a civilian population.
If you expect a complex and spellbinding plot, well, then you need to learn the difference between genres. Of course it's predictable, and that's what's good. The 1st AvP tried to have a plot, and that's why it sucked. This one realizes that humans are not the stars of a franchise called "Aliens vs. Predator". A story doesn't need to be totally unpredictable to make it good, otherwise no one would ever buy movies to rewatch them and remakes of classic movies would be a joyous thing. A film, even a gruesome sci-fi horror flick is to be judged not just by what they do but how they do it. And by that I say this movie delivered exactly what it promised, and then some.
If you expect a complex and spellbinding plot, well, then you need to learn the difference between genres. Of course it's predictable, and that's what's good. The 1st AvP tried to have a plot, and that's why it sucked. This one realizes that humans are not the stars of a franchise called "Aliens vs. Predator". A story doesn't need to be totally unpredictable to make it good, otherwise no one would ever buy movies to rewatch them and remakes of classic movies would be a joyous thing. A film, even a gruesome sci-fi horror flick is to be judged not just by what they do but how they do it. And by that I say this movie delivered exactly what it promised, and then some.
Cold War
Charlie Wilson's War with Tom Hanks and Amy Adams. One of the better historical political movies I've seen in a while. It's also rather illuminating in terms of how the Afghanis ended up with all the weapons and aid. Not surprisingly, the movie is not entirely accurate and the truth is a bit more convoluted, but essentially the movie got it right. I also like the fact that they showed the human aspect and reasons for the operation. Popular opinion, from the people I've talked to anyway, was that the US was so eager to help the Afghanis and they only did it to stop the Soviets. While that is definitely a big part of it, the movie shows their desire to help the people fight back against an army that slaughters women and children. It also demonstrates that it took effort to get support for the operation and that there was an attempt to give humanitarian aid after the war, but it was stymied.
Aside from the history of it, the acting was superb and it was quite lighthearted and funny. That, in combination with its poignance, definitely made the movie worthwhile.
Charlie Wilson's War with Tom Hanks and Amy Adams. One of the better historical political movies I've seen in a while. It's also rather illuminating in terms of how the Afghanis ended up with all the weapons and aid. Not surprisingly, the movie is not entirely accurate and the truth is a bit more convoluted, but essentially the movie got it right. I also like the fact that they showed the human aspect and reasons for the operation. Popular opinion, from the people I've talked to anyway, was that the US was so eager to help the Afghanis and they only did it to stop the Soviets. While that is definitely a big part of it, the movie shows their desire to help the people fight back against an army that slaughters women and children. It also demonstrates that it took effort to get support for the operation and that there was an attempt to give humanitarian aid after the war, but it was stymied.
Aside from the history of it, the acting was superb and it was quite lighthearted and funny. That, in combination with its poignance, definitely made the movie worthwhile.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Razor
Battlestar Galactica: Razor with Stephanie Jacobsen, Jamie Bamber and Katee Sackhoff. A nice little expanded universe piece with a lot of exposition and back story added. Overall nicely done as usual. The Pegasus flashbacks were pretty much everything I wanted answered and it seems the first Cylon War flashbacks were actually miniepisodes they aired on TV. The guy they got to play the young Bill Adama did a really good job of getting all the mannerisms and speech patterns of the regular character. Another positive note on the series in general is their writing of very powerful female characters, which is a rarity I think in many shows. I mean, sure you might have had a couple here and there in different series (and they tend to be annoying and bitchy anyway) but to have so many in one show is pretty unconventional. I'm going to assume no one who hasn't already seen it who reads this blog intends to watch, but SPOILERS:
I thought it was an interesting move to make Admiral Cain a lesbian and I'm not sure what to make of it. In one sense it's good because there's been this lingering question of how homosexuality is viewed in the BSG universe and if one of the characters in the series would come out. I think deliberately addressing that and making a big deal about it would detract from the plot they already have. And trying to guess if someone's secret is that they're gay or a Cylon would be too distracting, so just getting that out of the way in Razor was a good move. On the other hand, I think it's a bit of a cop out that she's a lesbian. It plays back to the female combatants thing where women are seen as more cold blooded in combat than men even when both are committing the same deeds. It's because women are supposed to be sympathetic, kind and nurturing and to find that they are capable of the same atrocities as men is very disturbing. But if Cain is a bull dyke then obviously she's not a real woman and therefore it's no surprise she could do all those terrible (male) deeds. That said, since one of the things that supposedly pushed her over the edge was the realization that her love has been manipulating her and exploiting her trust in order to destroy the ship, it would have been difficult for any of the male Cylons to have made a convincing partner for Cain.
Another thing I wonder is if Cain was really like that the whole time. The writers are good about letting you decide for yourself how a lot of things should be interpreted rather than tell you how it is and make people that don't see it feel dumb. They make it seem like she is a bit austere but basically a nice enough person and her hardness was really just an act. But after watching Dexter (the show about the serial killer who hunts serial killers) I wonder if all of her emotions were just faked. She didn't care about casualties or murdering civilians or other officers, her single focus was hurting the Cylons back. It didn't matter if the tactical value of the target was minimal, she wanted blood. She clearly never thought in the long term, like how the human race would continue with just the dwindling crew of the Pegasus as the gene pool. She could never let her true colors show previously because a sociopathic admiral would be drummed out fairly quickly, but with absolute power she didn't need to answer to anyone. Additionally, she was betrayed by the one person she actually did care for and the only one who might have tempered her monstrous tendencies. As Bill Adama pointed out the only thing that kept him from doing some terrible decisions was the fact that he'd have to look his son in the eye and explain himself.
Battlestar Galactica: Razor with Stephanie Jacobsen, Jamie Bamber and Katee Sackhoff. A nice little expanded universe piece with a lot of exposition and back story added. Overall nicely done as usual. The Pegasus flashbacks were pretty much everything I wanted answered and it seems the first Cylon War flashbacks were actually miniepisodes they aired on TV. The guy they got to play the young Bill Adama did a really good job of getting all the mannerisms and speech patterns of the regular character. Another positive note on the series in general is their writing of very powerful female characters, which is a rarity I think in many shows. I mean, sure you might have had a couple here and there in different series (and they tend to be annoying and bitchy anyway) but to have so many in one show is pretty unconventional. I'm going to assume no one who hasn't already seen it who reads this blog intends to watch, but SPOILERS:
I thought it was an interesting move to make Admiral Cain a lesbian and I'm not sure what to make of it. In one sense it's good because there's been this lingering question of how homosexuality is viewed in the BSG universe and if one of the characters in the series would come out. I think deliberately addressing that and making a big deal about it would detract from the plot they already have. And trying to guess if someone's secret is that they're gay or a Cylon would be too distracting, so just getting that out of the way in Razor was a good move. On the other hand, I think it's a bit of a cop out that she's a lesbian. It plays back to the female combatants thing where women are seen as more cold blooded in combat than men even when both are committing the same deeds. It's because women are supposed to be sympathetic, kind and nurturing and to find that they are capable of the same atrocities as men is very disturbing. But if Cain is a bull dyke then obviously she's not a real woman and therefore it's no surprise she could do all those terrible (male) deeds. That said, since one of the things that supposedly pushed her over the edge was the realization that her love has been manipulating her and exploiting her trust in order to destroy the ship, it would have been difficult for any of the male Cylons to have made a convincing partner for Cain.
Another thing I wonder is if Cain was really like that the whole time. The writers are good about letting you decide for yourself how a lot of things should be interpreted rather than tell you how it is and make people that don't see it feel dumb. They make it seem like she is a bit austere but basically a nice enough person and her hardness was really just an act. But after watching Dexter (the show about the serial killer who hunts serial killers) I wonder if all of her emotions were just faked. She didn't care about casualties or murdering civilians or other officers, her single focus was hurting the Cylons back. It didn't matter if the tactical value of the target was minimal, she wanted blood. She clearly never thought in the long term, like how the human race would continue with just the dwindling crew of the Pegasus as the gene pool. She could never let her true colors show previously because a sociopathic admiral would be drummed out fairly quickly, but with absolute power she didn't need to answer to anyone. Additionally, she was betrayed by the one person she actually did care for and the only one who might have tempered her monstrous tendencies. As Bill Adama pointed out the only thing that kept him from doing some terrible decisions was the fact that he'd have to look his son in the eye and explain himself.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Anthrapology
It occurred to me the other day, now that I have my finals done (and kicked each of their asses) this was a very depressing semester in terms of classes. I don't know how anthropologists can be so optimistic when what we learn is so disheartening. In fact I'd say the one class that had a positive message was my Honors thesis and I wrote the damn thing. Never mind the fact that my adviser sent it back with the first four pages in red. Aside from the knowledge and understanding one gains from a class, I think there's a message or moral that accompanies each class as well. Like the GenEd psychology class I took last year definitely had the message "Don't believe everything you think" or maybe "Don't blindly go along with the crowd". My Exobiology course made us walk away with the message "There are almost definitely aliens and they probably don't want to kill us". Not as inspirational as one would like but for something we know nothing about it's pretty optimistic. This semester the messages seem to be: "Basic impulses of human nature are genetic and people are genetically predisposed to not like 'others'." "Poor people will live miserable lives and only the rich people (who don't care about the poor anyway) have the power to change that." "If you try to help people in developing countries you'll end up inadvertently helping wife-beaters and warlords and give people you're trying to help a new means of committing suicide." "Utopian experiments always fail because of human nature." "There will always be people to take advantage of the kindness of others."
I mean, fuck, where do you go from there? The only option seems to be to rewire human genetics to get rid of selfish, spiteful tendencies, but I'm not a fan of tinkering with human instincts. I don't agree with this negative assessment and I'm kind of hoping it's just a fluke that I took all downer classes and that the opinion of the anthro department is not so dim. The way I see it, humanity has slowly but surely been improving itself for the past 10,000 years. I mean sure we gave up being egalitarian (we think) nomads to become a hierarchical society with a horrible diet that created disease wherever we went. And yes, we've only relatively recently increased human life expectancy to higher than what it was before we invented agriculture, but look where it's gotten us: we can finally explore the unknown possibilities of existence and search for answers to how and why the Universe is the way it is instead of just saying "God did it." I'd say the amount of cruelty in the world has reduced since the past. The quality of life for many people has increased and the means to help people is greater than it has ever been. The only trick is to raise people in such a way that our advancements actually mean something. Don't be cruel, don't be selfish, don't be stupid. How that's accomplished globally I have no idea. I will say, though, if anthropologists can see all those negative things about the human condition and still be optimistic that they can change the world then they're the best people for the job.
It occurred to me the other day, now that I have my finals done (and kicked each of their asses) this was a very depressing semester in terms of classes. I don't know how anthropologists can be so optimistic when what we learn is so disheartening. In fact I'd say the one class that had a positive message was my Honors thesis and I wrote the damn thing. Never mind the fact that my adviser sent it back with the first four pages in red. Aside from the knowledge and understanding one gains from a class, I think there's a message or moral that accompanies each class as well. Like the GenEd psychology class I took last year definitely had the message "Don't believe everything you think" or maybe "Don't blindly go along with the crowd". My Exobiology course made us walk away with the message "There are almost definitely aliens and they probably don't want to kill us". Not as inspirational as one would like but for something we know nothing about it's pretty optimistic. This semester the messages seem to be: "Basic impulses of human nature are genetic and people are genetically predisposed to not like 'others'." "Poor people will live miserable lives and only the rich people (who don't care about the poor anyway) have the power to change that." "If you try to help people in developing countries you'll end up inadvertently helping wife-beaters and warlords and give people you're trying to help a new means of committing suicide." "Utopian experiments always fail because of human nature." "There will always be people to take advantage of the kindness of others."
I mean, fuck, where do you go from there? The only option seems to be to rewire human genetics to get rid of selfish, spiteful tendencies, but I'm not a fan of tinkering with human instincts. I don't agree with this negative assessment and I'm kind of hoping it's just a fluke that I took all downer classes and that the opinion of the anthro department is not so dim. The way I see it, humanity has slowly but surely been improving itself for the past 10,000 years. I mean sure we gave up being egalitarian (we think) nomads to become a hierarchical society with a horrible diet that created disease wherever we went. And yes, we've only relatively recently increased human life expectancy to higher than what it was before we invented agriculture, but look where it's gotten us: we can finally explore the unknown possibilities of existence and search for answers to how and why the Universe is the way it is instead of just saying "God did it." I'd say the amount of cruelty in the world has reduced since the past. The quality of life for many people has increased and the means to help people is greater than it has ever been. The only trick is to raise people in such a way that our advancements actually mean something. Don't be cruel, don't be selfish, don't be stupid. How that's accomplished globally I have no idea. I will say, though, if anthropologists can see all those negative things about the human condition and still be optimistic that they can change the world then they're the best people for the job.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
I know it might be wrong, but I'm in love with Grendel's mom
Beowulf with Ray Winstone, Anthony Hopkins and John Malkovich. I appear to be in the minority, but I actually enjoyed the movie. It's not some wonderful, eternally quotable movie for the ages (not that the original Beowulf is quotable either), but I was entertained. It's enough of a departure from the original that it gets in trouble with the purists, though I think it's better than the original story. There's always a critic, I suppose: people who claim there was no plot or that the acting was poor on one side and the people who wanted it to be more like the original story with one dimensional characters killing monsters over and over. Beowulf was a more likable character in this than the original, where he just seemed like he was nothing but a braggart. I didn't see what the curse they kept referring to was, though. I mean right up until Grendel's mom cancels their little deal, Beowulf had it pretty sweet. He gets to be rich, powerful and remembered for all time (nice little meta-reference there) and all he has to do is have sex with Angelina Jolie. Aside from perhaps some feelings of sleeping with the enemy I didn't see where the catch was. The Old English was fun to hear and the fans of the original were even more excited about it. I was also excited to learn afterwards that some of the characters in Beowulf are buried in Gamla Uppsala in the big funeral mounds. It's been a long time since I've watched a 3D movie, so seeing the movie in 3D was a rare treat, as well.
Beowulf with Ray Winstone, Anthony Hopkins and John Malkovich. I appear to be in the minority, but I actually enjoyed the movie. It's not some wonderful, eternally quotable movie for the ages (not that the original Beowulf is quotable either), but I was entertained. It's enough of a departure from the original that it gets in trouble with the purists, though I think it's better than the original story. There's always a critic, I suppose: people who claim there was no plot or that the acting was poor on one side and the people who wanted it to be more like the original story with one dimensional characters killing monsters over and over. Beowulf was a more likable character in this than the original, where he just seemed like he was nothing but a braggart. I didn't see what the curse they kept referring to was, though. I mean right up until Grendel's mom cancels their little deal, Beowulf had it pretty sweet. He gets to be rich, powerful and remembered for all time (nice little meta-reference there) and all he has to do is have sex with Angelina Jolie. Aside from perhaps some feelings of sleeping with the enemy I didn't see where the catch was. The Old English was fun to hear and the fans of the original were even more excited about it. I was also excited to learn afterwards that some of the characters in Beowulf are buried in Gamla Uppsala in the big funeral mounds. It's been a long time since I've watched a 3D movie, so seeing the movie in 3D was a rare treat, as well.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Beardy McBearderson
After three months with facial hair I've come to note some odd things. First off, it's easier to get used to seeing yourself with a beard when you're actually growing it than getting used to seeing yourself when you shave it off. Secondly, there's a weird dichotomy in people's opinions on facial hair. For example men will praise and sometimes admit to jealousy of my facial hair but afterwards say they think the clean-shaven look is better. This might just be polite praise to any change they notice, though there's always the occasional partygoer who notes, "You shaved. That was a mistake." Women are divided on the facial hair issue more consistently, they either like it or they don't. There doesn't seem to be equally approving of beardedness and nonbeardedness. I was rather surprised by the number of women that did like it, though; girls sometimes asked if they could touch it. There were even some women who were opposed to facial hair and actually liked it when they saw it. The vast majority seem to prefer clean-shaven, though. Personally I don't get it, real women like masculine traits like height, muscles, etc. and a beard is nothing if not manly. The only concern which I will accept as legitimate is having their face rubbed raw by making out with a bearded man and only one woman noted that as a reason for not liking beards. Otherwise she, in fact, approved of the look.
I did learn some interesting things about having a beard, both about myself and people:
-Long sideburns do not work on me, not that they work on most people, but there are some that can make it work.
-There is a weird camaraderie among bearded men, my example is when I was explaining the reason for switching from a full beard to a goatee (technically a Van Dyke) was due to a shaving accident and two guys chimed in with "I hate it when that happens!" The guys who didn't have facial hair were then left with nothing to add to the new conversation.
-I may need a new hairstyle now that I'm clean-shaven. The glasses, parted hair and full beard made me look nerdy, but in a professional, very anthropological way. Same with the goatee, but to a lesser extent. Clean-shaven I just look like a nerd and I think now strangers take me for a pushover.
-I was surprised by how much maintenance goes into facial hair, you have to keep it trimmed and neat looking or it'll grow over your mouth. And not that you'd notice so much in the summer, but now that it's getting colder, a beard keeps your face warm. It's like a built-in scarf. -Since the oils that your skin produces to keep your hair healthy-looking are actually going into the beard instead of sitting on your skin, acne is reduced tremendously. With a full beard I had like one zit a month.
Depending on what my future whims might be, I might grow beard out again. Especially if I'm going to grad school back East, cuz I hear those winters are pretty damn cold.
After three months with facial hair I've come to note some odd things. First off, it's easier to get used to seeing yourself with a beard when you're actually growing it than getting used to seeing yourself when you shave it off. Secondly, there's a weird dichotomy in people's opinions on facial hair. For example men will praise and sometimes admit to jealousy of my facial hair but afterwards say they think the clean-shaven look is better. This might just be polite praise to any change they notice, though there's always the occasional partygoer who notes, "You shaved. That was a mistake." Women are divided on the facial hair issue more consistently, they either like it or they don't. There doesn't seem to be equally approving of beardedness and nonbeardedness. I was rather surprised by the number of women that did like it, though; girls sometimes asked if they could touch it. There were even some women who were opposed to facial hair and actually liked it when they saw it. The vast majority seem to prefer clean-shaven, though. Personally I don't get it, real women like masculine traits like height, muscles, etc. and a beard is nothing if not manly. The only concern which I will accept as legitimate is having their face rubbed raw by making out with a bearded man and only one woman noted that as a reason for not liking beards. Otherwise she, in fact, approved of the look.
I did learn some interesting things about having a beard, both about myself and people:
-Long sideburns do not work on me, not that they work on most people, but there are some that can make it work.
-There is a weird camaraderie among bearded men, my example is when I was explaining the reason for switching from a full beard to a goatee (technically a Van Dyke) was due to a shaving accident and two guys chimed in with "I hate it when that happens!" The guys who didn't have facial hair were then left with nothing to add to the new conversation.
-I may need a new hairstyle now that I'm clean-shaven. The glasses, parted hair and full beard made me look nerdy, but in a professional, very anthropological way. Same with the goatee, but to a lesser extent. Clean-shaven I just look like a nerd and I think now strangers take me for a pushover.
-I was surprised by how much maintenance goes into facial hair, you have to keep it trimmed and neat looking or it'll grow over your mouth. And not that you'd notice so much in the summer, but now that it's getting colder, a beard keeps your face warm. It's like a built-in scarf. -Since the oils that your skin produces to keep your hair healthy-looking are actually going into the beard instead of sitting on your skin, acne is reduced tremendously. With a full beard I had like one zit a month.
Depending on what my future whims might be, I might grow beard out again. Especially if I'm going to grad school back East, cuz I hear those winters are pretty damn cold.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Your move!
Robocop with Peter Weller. I of course have seen this movie many times before this post but because it is such a good movie I am compelled to review it. Why is it so good? Because it's gritty, darkly satirical and just plain awesome. There's no dichotomy of good and evil; the creator of Robocop is a ruthless entrepreneur who celebrates his success with hookers and cocaine. Incidentally, his death scene, which I had completely taken out of context as a child, likely shaped my attitude on drugs: the man snorting cocaine out a a prostitute's cleavage gets shot in the legs and blown up with a grenade. More effective message than anything DARE ever taught. Robocop fights all forms of crime: robbery, rape, murder, drug trafficking, corporate crimes, he does it all. What's more, you're made to hate each villain well before they're oh so gruesomely killed. There's never any ambiguity in his reasons for killing them. He only uses enough force to complete his mission and he always waits for the bad guys to initiate hostilities, "Your move, creep." Though his tactics are extreme you can never say anyone was a victim of police brutality at the hands of Robocop. Then again, he never misses. I think it's also interesting that while some people would had to have claimed police brutality against him, because he's not human he cannot be personally tried for it. And if that technicality were ignored he wouldn't be protected by city lawyers but by OCP. Their expert legal team would defeat any case filed against him. So the instrument of good is protected from the litigious by an evil corporation. That's just cool. Which brings me to the reason why this movie is unique: the bad guys hardly ever come close to winning. They didn't follow the formula of the powerful protagonist being indestructible at first and only later in the film do the bad guys discover his weakness. Robocop has no weakness, except Directive 4. Even when pitted against the superior strength and firepower of ED-209 he's barely scratched. It takes a whole precinct of cops armed with armor piercing rounds to just slow him down. And even then that's the good guys turned against him that do the most damage. That's why, among other reasons the sequels weren't very good. The unique thing about Robocop as a superhero was that he actually was so powerful he couldn't be defeated.
I watched this movie because I was in a pissy mood, and as always it cheered me up. You wouldn't think it a feel-good flick, but it made me feel good.
Finally, out of curiosity, I checked out how the Spanish and French dubbed ED-209 sounded and to my amazement the French one actually sounded scarier than the Spanish one. Which is saying something considering he just sounds like an angry power droid.
Robocop with Peter Weller. I of course have seen this movie many times before this post but because it is such a good movie I am compelled to review it. Why is it so good? Because it's gritty, darkly satirical and just plain awesome. There's no dichotomy of good and evil; the creator of Robocop is a ruthless entrepreneur who celebrates his success with hookers and cocaine. Incidentally, his death scene, which I had completely taken out of context as a child, likely shaped my attitude on drugs: the man snorting cocaine out a a prostitute's cleavage gets shot in the legs and blown up with a grenade. More effective message than anything DARE ever taught. Robocop fights all forms of crime: robbery, rape, murder, drug trafficking, corporate crimes, he does it all. What's more, you're made to hate each villain well before they're oh so gruesomely killed. There's never any ambiguity in his reasons for killing them. He only uses enough force to complete his mission and he always waits for the bad guys to initiate hostilities, "Your move, creep." Though his tactics are extreme you can never say anyone was a victim of police brutality at the hands of Robocop. Then again, he never misses. I think it's also interesting that while some people would had to have claimed police brutality against him, because he's not human he cannot be personally tried for it. And if that technicality were ignored he wouldn't be protected by city lawyers but by OCP. Their expert legal team would defeat any case filed against him. So the instrument of good is protected from the litigious by an evil corporation. That's just cool. Which brings me to the reason why this movie is unique: the bad guys hardly ever come close to winning. They didn't follow the formula of the powerful protagonist being indestructible at first and only later in the film do the bad guys discover his weakness. Robocop has no weakness, except Directive 4. Even when pitted against the superior strength and firepower of ED-209 he's barely scratched. It takes a whole precinct of cops armed with armor piercing rounds to just slow him down. And even then that's the good guys turned against him that do the most damage. That's why, among other reasons the sequels weren't very good. The unique thing about Robocop as a superhero was that he actually was so powerful he couldn't be defeated.
I watched this movie because I was in a pissy mood, and as always it cheered me up. You wouldn't think it a feel-good flick, but it made me feel good.
Finally, out of curiosity, I checked out how the Spanish and French dubbed ED-209 sounded and to my amazement the French one actually sounded scarier than the Spanish one. Which is saying something considering he just sounds like an angry power droid.
Bastards
So we got burglarized on Monday. They took my laptop, the backup hard drive, my camera and pretty much every single electronic device they could get there worthless hands on. By pure chance I had taken my mini flash drive to school with me and because my adviser wanted sample writing all of my college documents were on it. Had I lost that, I would have lost everything. My resume, grad school data, all my data on my thesis, I would have been irrevocably fucked. Also, by pure chance, there was a drive image backup of my laptop at my parents' house from late January. So instead of losing every song, game and photograph I ever owned in the past three years I only lost about 10 months worth. Now, I was considerably more emotional on Monday than I am today but some of my attitudes are still the same. I am not absolutely ruined as I had initially thought, so things are looking up, somewhat.
Also, while I was and still am thoroughly pissed about losing all my stuff, I regard the loss of the GameCube, all its games, my MP3 player etc. as inconveniences. I've never been particularly attached to material things, I suspect that's why I'm difficult to shop for. But the loss of my laptop and camera are much more than material things. I could not email, print nor even type up a paper due the next day. I lost all the photographs I had taken since the last drive image. As a student my life depends on access to a computer. Photography is my hobby, and without a camera or place to store my photos I'm deprived of something that brings me joy. They also took the tape recorder I was using to get interview for my final project in one of my anthro classes. More than material things, these were tools and storehouses of knowledge. They made off with about three grand worth of my stuff, you'd think they'd at least have the goddamn common courtesy to leave me my backup hard drive.
Which leads me to my next point. While I generally agree with the Swedes on economics and some social and legal points, I feel they're too forgiving. Granted, no system works in every environment and the Swedish system works pretty well for them, but rehabilitation does not work in the US. It can work in Sweden because they're culturally and economically more or less homogeneous and any aberrant behavior is just that, aberrant. It's uncharacteristic and as such can be trained out of them. In the US, there's such socioeconomic diversity and differences between subcultures that rehabilitation is impossible with anything short of brainwashing. You are the person you're going to be for the rest of your life by the time you're 18. After that, you can't correct a learned culture and outlook on life. Case in point is in Philippe Bourgois' book In Search of Respect where in one section he documents the attempts of crack dealers who grew up in East Harlem to enter the legal job market. Despite their best efforts they are incapable of adjusting to this different culture and occasionally in frustration steal from the company to get back at them. Bourgois notes that they were often victims of discrimination but most of the time it was their own damn fault that they couldn't keep a job.
What's my point? You can take the lion out of the jungle but you can't take the jungle out of the lion. You cannot rehabilitate a culture that happens to be incompatible with our own. (Then again, it's not like American prisons even try to rehabilitate prisoners so I may not be 100% correct.) So what's the solution? On Monday I would have said kill them. If you believe society functions like an organism then individuals who wish to maximize their success at the expense of others are essentially cancer cells. The body is full of single cells that all used to be individuals but all banded together for mutual benefit. Still, they used to be individuals and every so often they'll behave like individuals and act only in their own self interest. This happens all the time and its your body's job as a whole to destroy these cancerous elements, so it's not unlike a government trying to stamp out crime. But eventually the body cannot do this as well as it used to and cancer develops, hence why it's not normally a disease of the young. You could make a similar case with planned utopian communities that are seamless for a few years or even decades, but eventually the individualistic traits of the members emerge and the society decays.
Still, we're not cells and killing people for having a different culture, even if it is injurious to everyone and can never be unlearned, is inhumane. So my solution is this, send these prisoners overseas to developing nations. Make them dig trenches, harvest sugarcane, and other awful jobs people have to do over there. Give them good, nutritious meals, of course, I'm no Stalinist. The profits of their labor of course go to the locals who would have had to toil themselves for a meager wage. We won't have them do all the work for the locals, that would foster dependency, but give them a break. Let them regain their strength, accumulate wealth and live for more than work. Once you have a society which is healthy, wealthy and has time to spare, they can prosper. And there is little chance for survival for the prisoners should they escape; without medicine they'll succumb to malaria or other diseases, they can't blend into the society if they can't speak the language, if the locals have a hard time getting food, they'll have an even worse time. And these cultures are much less forgiving of murderous, thieving outsiders should they get caught...
So there you have my social plan to help developing nations, fix our overcrowded prison system in the US and make use of drains on society. And hell, maybe it'll rehabilitate the scumbags after all.
So we got burglarized on Monday. They took my laptop, the backup hard drive, my camera and pretty much every single electronic device they could get there worthless hands on. By pure chance I had taken my mini flash drive to school with me and because my adviser wanted sample writing all of my college documents were on it. Had I lost that, I would have lost everything. My resume, grad school data, all my data on my thesis, I would have been irrevocably fucked. Also, by pure chance, there was a drive image backup of my laptop at my parents' house from late January. So instead of losing every song, game and photograph I ever owned in the past three years I only lost about 10 months worth. Now, I was considerably more emotional on Monday than I am today but some of my attitudes are still the same. I am not absolutely ruined as I had initially thought, so things are looking up, somewhat.
Also, while I was and still am thoroughly pissed about losing all my stuff, I regard the loss of the GameCube, all its games, my MP3 player etc. as inconveniences. I've never been particularly attached to material things, I suspect that's why I'm difficult to shop for. But the loss of my laptop and camera are much more than material things. I could not email, print nor even type up a paper due the next day. I lost all the photographs I had taken since the last drive image. As a student my life depends on access to a computer. Photography is my hobby, and without a camera or place to store my photos I'm deprived of something that brings me joy. They also took the tape recorder I was using to get interview for my final project in one of my anthro classes. More than material things, these were tools and storehouses of knowledge. They made off with about three grand worth of my stuff, you'd think they'd at least have the goddamn common courtesy to leave me my backup hard drive.
Which leads me to my next point. While I generally agree with the Swedes on economics and some social and legal points, I feel they're too forgiving. Granted, no system works in every environment and the Swedish system works pretty well for them, but rehabilitation does not work in the US. It can work in Sweden because they're culturally and economically more or less homogeneous and any aberrant behavior is just that, aberrant. It's uncharacteristic and as such can be trained out of them. In the US, there's such socioeconomic diversity and differences between subcultures that rehabilitation is impossible with anything short of brainwashing. You are the person you're going to be for the rest of your life by the time you're 18. After that, you can't correct a learned culture and outlook on life. Case in point is in Philippe Bourgois' book In Search of Respect where in one section he documents the attempts of crack dealers who grew up in East Harlem to enter the legal job market. Despite their best efforts they are incapable of adjusting to this different culture and occasionally in frustration steal from the company to get back at them. Bourgois notes that they were often victims of discrimination but most of the time it was their own damn fault that they couldn't keep a job.
What's my point? You can take the lion out of the jungle but you can't take the jungle out of the lion. You cannot rehabilitate a culture that happens to be incompatible with our own. (Then again, it's not like American prisons even try to rehabilitate prisoners so I may not be 100% correct.) So what's the solution? On Monday I would have said kill them. If you believe society functions like an organism then individuals who wish to maximize their success at the expense of others are essentially cancer cells. The body is full of single cells that all used to be individuals but all banded together for mutual benefit. Still, they used to be individuals and every so often they'll behave like individuals and act only in their own self interest. This happens all the time and its your body's job as a whole to destroy these cancerous elements, so it's not unlike a government trying to stamp out crime. But eventually the body cannot do this as well as it used to and cancer develops, hence why it's not normally a disease of the young. You could make a similar case with planned utopian communities that are seamless for a few years or even decades, but eventually the individualistic traits of the members emerge and the society decays.
Still, we're not cells and killing people for having a different culture, even if it is injurious to everyone and can never be unlearned, is inhumane. So my solution is this, send these prisoners overseas to developing nations. Make them dig trenches, harvest sugarcane, and other awful jobs people have to do over there. Give them good, nutritious meals, of course, I'm no Stalinist. The profits of their labor of course go to the locals who would have had to toil themselves for a meager wage. We won't have them do all the work for the locals, that would foster dependency, but give them a break. Let them regain their strength, accumulate wealth and live for more than work. Once you have a society which is healthy, wealthy and has time to spare, they can prosper. And there is little chance for survival for the prisoners should they escape; without medicine they'll succumb to malaria or other diseases, they can't blend into the society if they can't speak the language, if the locals have a hard time getting food, they'll have an even worse time. And these cultures are much less forgiving of murderous, thieving outsiders should they get caught...
So there you have my social plan to help developing nations, fix our overcrowded prison system in the US and make use of drains on society. And hell, maybe it'll rehabilitate the scumbags after all.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Only time I wish the Earth had been eaten
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer with Lawrence Fishburne and no one else worth a damn. This one actually was worse than the original, I didn't think it was possible, but I'll be damned. At least they didn't make it as blatantly bad with product advertising as they did in the last one. I hate all the characters, with a special emphasis on the Human Torch, though the Invisible Woman almost won the annoying contest. Enormous plot holes are the thing that got to me the most. Like, say, why do they need to keep the team together if you can combine all their powers into one person and have them be much more effective than the four of them? Also, his name is Von Doom and he came back from the dead, what more evidence do you need that you can't trust him? Why didn't the Invisible Woman spy on him instead of confronting him like a moron? And lastly, if the Silver Surfer can destroy Galactus that easily, why the hell did he wait all that time serving him when he could have just taken the job of herald and then turn and kill him right then and there? I will give them points for making Galactus a bit more ominous than a giant human in a silly helmet. Normally I hold off on spoilers but this one isn't worth my restraint.
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer with Lawrence Fishburne and no one else worth a damn. This one actually was worse than the original, I didn't think it was possible, but I'll be damned. At least they didn't make it as blatantly bad with product advertising as they did in the last one. I hate all the characters, with a special emphasis on the Human Torch, though the Invisible Woman almost won the annoying contest. Enormous plot holes are the thing that got to me the most. Like, say, why do they need to keep the team together if you can combine all their powers into one person and have them be much more effective than the four of them? Also, his name is Von Doom and he came back from the dead, what more evidence do you need that you can't trust him? Why didn't the Invisible Woman spy on him instead of confronting him like a moron? And lastly, if the Silver Surfer can destroy Galactus that easily, why the hell did he wait all that time serving him when he could have just taken the job of herald and then turn and kill him right then and there? I will give them points for making Galactus a bit more ominous than a giant human in a silly helmet. Normally I hold off on spoilers but this one isn't worth my restraint.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Darwin
The Reluctant Mr. Darwin by David Quammen. A required reading for one of my classes, but a decent read nonetheless. You learn all about Darwin and his personal life and his reactions to the scientific world around him, and dispels some of the myths about his beliefs and motives. We all agreed that after having read about him, we would not have wanted to be his friend. Even though he was chronically sick his whole life, he never went to visit anyone unless it was a tangible benefit to him, his friends were all people who could help him advance his career and he missed the funerals of his father, his favorite daughter and Lyell, the man who made Darwin's career. Not to mention the fact that his reason for marriage was that a wife would make better company than a dog. The man never committed to anything unless he absolutely had to, once he was put into a situation he performed admirably but he had absolutely no gumption. Had Wallace, who was a totally awesome, albeit chronically unlucky guy, not sent Darwin his ideas on evolution to be forwarded to Lyell, Darwin would never have gotten around to publishing his own theory of evolution. Another interesting tidbit, not in the book but provided as background by the professor, was that while Darwin would say he didn't subscribe to Social Darwinism, he never stopped or corrected people who twisted his theory. And since he came from money and from how he interacted with those of higher and lower classes, he kinda, sorta did believe in Social Darwinism. So the bottom line seems to be Darwin was a smart guy, but a total prick.
In one of my other classes, Sociobiology and Evolution of Cooperation, we're talking about the evolutionary benefits of altruism. Which leads to one of my least favorite debates of all time: is there really such a thing as altruism? I mean, if you derive any measure of satisfaction or reward for an (huge, pseudo-intellectual finger quote gesture) altruistic act then it really is a selfish act and that means there is no such thing as altruism. Basically, you would have to utterly hate doing something, but do it unhesitatingly and never derive any benefit from it, directly or indirectly no matter how distant in the future that possible reward might be. So in that case, yes altruism does not exist because it would be utterly counterintuitive and stupid. But for the rest of the world that doesn't subscribe to that stupid philosophy altruism does exist because it means giving without any outside reward expected in return. If you do a nice thing for the sake of it and you happen to be rewarded for it that doesn't make it any less altruistic. Nor does feeling good about it make the altruistic act selfish, any more than it's OK to steal from someone as long as you feel bad about it while you're doing it.
The Reluctant Mr. Darwin by David Quammen. A required reading for one of my classes, but a decent read nonetheless. You learn all about Darwin and his personal life and his reactions to the scientific world around him, and dispels some of the myths about his beliefs and motives. We all agreed that after having read about him, we would not have wanted to be his friend. Even though he was chronically sick his whole life, he never went to visit anyone unless it was a tangible benefit to him, his friends were all people who could help him advance his career and he missed the funerals of his father, his favorite daughter and Lyell, the man who made Darwin's career. Not to mention the fact that his reason for marriage was that a wife would make better company than a dog. The man never committed to anything unless he absolutely had to, once he was put into a situation he performed admirably but he had absolutely no gumption. Had Wallace, who was a totally awesome, albeit chronically unlucky guy, not sent Darwin his ideas on evolution to be forwarded to Lyell, Darwin would never have gotten around to publishing his own theory of evolution. Another interesting tidbit, not in the book but provided as background by the professor, was that while Darwin would say he didn't subscribe to Social Darwinism, he never stopped or corrected people who twisted his theory. And since he came from money and from how he interacted with those of higher and lower classes, he kinda, sorta did believe in Social Darwinism. So the bottom line seems to be Darwin was a smart guy, but a total prick.
In one of my other classes, Sociobiology and Evolution of Cooperation, we're talking about the evolutionary benefits of altruism. Which leads to one of my least favorite debates of all time: is there really such a thing as altruism? I mean, if you derive any measure of satisfaction or reward for an (huge, pseudo-intellectual finger quote gesture) altruistic act then it really is a selfish act and that means there is no such thing as altruism. Basically, you would have to utterly hate doing something, but do it unhesitatingly and never derive any benefit from it, directly or indirectly no matter how distant in the future that possible reward might be. So in that case, yes altruism does not exist because it would be utterly counterintuitive and stupid. But for the rest of the world that doesn't subscribe to that stupid philosophy altruism does exist because it means giving without any outside reward expected in return. If you do a nice thing for the sake of it and you happen to be rewarded for it that doesn't make it any less altruistic. Nor does feeling good about it make the altruistic act selfish, any more than it's OK to steal from someone as long as you feel bad about it while you're doing it.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Babble
Babel with Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett and assorted foreigners. An alternate title for this film is "Stupid People Doing Stupid Things", I get the message (I think) the director was trying to give. In our globalized world the deeds of people thousands of miles away have drastic effects on the world we know. It's a message I can approve of but something about the film just didn't stick right with me. Maybe it was the fact that virtually all viewers needed subtitles since the likelihood of someone being fluent in English, Spanish, Japanese and Moroccan are slim. It smacked of the pretentiousness of a director who thought making a film almost exclusively in foreign languages would make him (and the film) seem worldly and intelligent. Also, one can't help but notice the odd unintended moral of the story: the carelessness of Mexicans, Arabs and Asians end up in the near death of beautiful and innocent white Americans.
In other news, I went to a career presentation at the U of A for the Foreign Service. I went in with an open mind but didn't think the program would ultimately appeal to me. But after the presentation I'm giving it some serious consideration. It's a hell of a lot more exciting (and lucrative) than the Peace Corps, which I had also considered joining, and as a diplomat I'd get better accommodations than a thatch hut on an anthill. They mentioned something to the effect of four years of service would finance grad school and pay off student loans. I'd learn languages of the countries I'd be sent to and interact with cultures on diplomatic missions. If I hypothetically made a career of it I could retire at 50. The only problems I see with this is a lack of autonomy; I go where they need me to be and I stay there from anywhere to weeks or years. Which means sure I could get a request to be stationed in Sweden approved then 6 weeks later, "Oops, we need you in Gambia." Also, they said one of the jobs is to explain US foreign policy. Now does that mean I have to advocate Imperialism or just merely diplomatically explain it to the locals while mentioning I personally disagree? There are some places you're not allowed to take children, or even one's wife. That, combined with moving every few months or years to foreign lands might get lonely after awhile. I never got a chance to ask about that part. The diplomacy and traveling bit sounds pretty sweet, and quite compatible with my goals of being an anthropologist. The hang up, as I gather is true in all jobs, is choosing higher pay or higher autonomy. Also, I wonder if doing one for a few years and then doing the other later would impact my chances of getting either job? Would the universities want to sponsor a former government pawn, or would the US government consider someone with potentially years worth of international contacts too great a security risk? Hmmm, things to consider....
Babel with Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett and assorted foreigners. An alternate title for this film is "Stupid People Doing Stupid Things", I get the message (I think) the director was trying to give. In our globalized world the deeds of people thousands of miles away have drastic effects on the world we know. It's a message I can approve of but something about the film just didn't stick right with me. Maybe it was the fact that virtually all viewers needed subtitles since the likelihood of someone being fluent in English, Spanish, Japanese and Moroccan are slim. It smacked of the pretentiousness of a director who thought making a film almost exclusively in foreign languages would make him (and the film) seem worldly and intelligent. Also, one can't help but notice the odd unintended moral of the story: the carelessness of Mexicans, Arabs and Asians end up in the near death of beautiful and innocent white Americans.
In other news, I went to a career presentation at the U of A for the Foreign Service. I went in with an open mind but didn't think the program would ultimately appeal to me. But after the presentation I'm giving it some serious consideration. It's a hell of a lot more exciting (and lucrative) than the Peace Corps, which I had also considered joining, and as a diplomat I'd get better accommodations than a thatch hut on an anthill. They mentioned something to the effect of four years of service would finance grad school and pay off student loans. I'd learn languages of the countries I'd be sent to and interact with cultures on diplomatic missions. If I hypothetically made a career of it I could retire at 50. The only problems I see with this is a lack of autonomy; I go where they need me to be and I stay there from anywhere to weeks or years. Which means sure I could get a request to be stationed in Sweden approved then 6 weeks later, "Oops, we need you in Gambia." Also, they said one of the jobs is to explain US foreign policy. Now does that mean I have to advocate Imperialism or just merely diplomatically explain it to the locals while mentioning I personally disagree? There are some places you're not allowed to take children, or even one's wife. That, combined with moving every few months or years to foreign lands might get lonely after awhile. I never got a chance to ask about that part. The diplomacy and traveling bit sounds pretty sweet, and quite compatible with my goals of being an anthropologist. The hang up, as I gather is true in all jobs, is choosing higher pay or higher autonomy. Also, I wonder if doing one for a few years and then doing the other later would impact my chances of getting either job? Would the universities want to sponsor a former government pawn, or would the US government consider someone with potentially years worth of international contacts too great a security risk? Hmmm, things to consider....
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Húmedo
The Labor Day trip to Mexico went quite well. Aside from the fact that the first night was so oppressively hot and humid. I have never been in a natural environment that disgustingly sweltering. This of course made going to the clubs all the more interesting. As if drunk girls weren't already predisposed to take off their clothes, in the club it was so hot everyone was taking their shirts off. For those of us that decided to keep our shirts on for modesty's sake, after a little while it looked like we had jumped in the ocean. We were so drenched in sweat we had to leave our shirts out to dry the next day. Also, the clubs, like one would expect in Mexico, were rather seedy, but thankfully not as terrifying as I have heard they can be. The stripper they hired at one club they were filming and projecting onto a giant screen so everyone could watch. Yeah, that was kinda gross. Plus who knows what kind of diseases the drunk frat boys got from her when they were grinding with her.
One interesting side effect of all that profuse sweating was no matter how much free beer and shots we took we never got more than a little buzzed since we sweat it all out. Another unfortunate, but slightly amusing, discovery is that in Mexico all mixed drinks are made with tequila. Kamikazi? Red Bull and vodka? Rum and coke? All made with tequila. One thing we did learn was that amid all the putrid rotgut tequila they were serving at the clubs they also had the smoothest, tastiest tequila any of us had ever encountered: Agavero. As it turns out it's actually a tequila liqueur, which would explain its unique taste. I would also like to thank the gentlemen who bought us those shots, as it takes a special kind of awesome to buy not just for the girls but the guy they're with as well.
The condos we stayed at were simply amazing; beautiful view of the ocean, spacious and such comfortable sofas. The air conditioning was also quite lovely, so lovely in fact that it led to brown outs several times during our stay. The water was quite literally like bath water. To be honest, that first day it was not very refreshing to swim in the ocean. It was almost the same temperature as the air. The water was fine later in the trip, though, good enough for all of us to go swim to a random buoy and prove how out of shape most of us were. In fairness, however, that was the longest I have ever swam in my life.
The trip back was notably long, it took us four hours to get across the border the line was so long. Thankfully we left in the late afternoon so we were in line at night. The other group left before us and were caught in line in the middle of the day. Their car overheated and they were stuck in line with no AC for three hours. The weather really was out to get us the entire trip, but holy crap was it awesome.
Words of the Day:
feckless-ineffective; incompetent; futile.
bathycolpian-Having deep cleavage; deep-bosomed.
and just to be fair: callipygian- having well-shaped buttocks.
The inebriated young man's efforts to woo the pulchritudinous, callipygian and bathycolpian girls proved feckless.
The Labor Day trip to Mexico went quite well. Aside from the fact that the first night was so oppressively hot and humid. I have never been in a natural environment that disgustingly sweltering. This of course made going to the clubs all the more interesting. As if drunk girls weren't already predisposed to take off their clothes, in the club it was so hot everyone was taking their shirts off. For those of us that decided to keep our shirts on for modesty's sake, after a little while it looked like we had jumped in the ocean. We were so drenched in sweat we had to leave our shirts out to dry the next day. Also, the clubs, like one would expect in Mexico, were rather seedy, but thankfully not as terrifying as I have heard they can be. The stripper they hired at one club they were filming and projecting onto a giant screen so everyone could watch. Yeah, that was kinda gross. Plus who knows what kind of diseases the drunk frat boys got from her when they were grinding with her.
One interesting side effect of all that profuse sweating was no matter how much free beer and shots we took we never got more than a little buzzed since we sweat it all out. Another unfortunate, but slightly amusing, discovery is that in Mexico all mixed drinks are made with tequila. Kamikazi? Red Bull and vodka? Rum and coke? All made with tequila. One thing we did learn was that amid all the putrid rotgut tequila they were serving at the clubs they also had the smoothest, tastiest tequila any of us had ever encountered: Agavero. As it turns out it's actually a tequila liqueur, which would explain its unique taste. I would also like to thank the gentlemen who bought us those shots, as it takes a special kind of awesome to buy not just for the girls but the guy they're with as well.
The condos we stayed at were simply amazing; beautiful view of the ocean, spacious and such comfortable sofas. The air conditioning was also quite lovely, so lovely in fact that it led to brown outs several times during our stay. The water was quite literally like bath water. To be honest, that first day it was not very refreshing to swim in the ocean. It was almost the same temperature as the air. The water was fine later in the trip, though, good enough for all of us to go swim to a random buoy and prove how out of shape most of us were. In fairness, however, that was the longest I have ever swam in my life.
The trip back was notably long, it took us four hours to get across the border the line was so long. Thankfully we left in the late afternoon so we were in line at night. The other group left before us and were caught in line in the middle of the day. Their car overheated and they were stuck in line with no AC for three hours. The weather really was out to get us the entire trip, but holy crap was it awesome.
Words of the Day:
feckless-ineffective; incompetent; futile.
bathycolpian-Having deep cleavage; deep-bosomed.
and just to be fair: callipygian- having well-shaped buttocks.
The inebriated young man's efforts to woo the pulchritudinous, callipygian and bathycolpian girls proved feckless.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Super?
Superbad with Jonah Hill and Michael Cera. I'm not sure what to say about this one. I liked The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up a lot but this movie didn't quite do it for me. The first third of it was awesome and I liked the last part of it too but for some reason the big middle section sort of fell flat. I could tell it was trying to be funny but it came across as the kind of funny reserved exclusively for telling not-funny-at-the-time situations. Which is exactly the kind of situation they were in, but again, as you're watching it it's not funny at the time. Nearly everyone else I spoke to liked it a lot, so maybe it was just lost on me. Since I was never one to go out and party in high school all of the "oh, man that is so true!" moments were lost on me.
SPOILERS AHEAD
The previous two movies made by the same guys were funny and definitely had a moral to the story. This had a message (the crazy high school life really isn't/wasn't what it was cracked up to be) but it seemed to emphasize that at the expense of the comedy that the film is billed as.
One thing I must laud the producers on is their focus on reversed roles in their movies. In the 40 Year Old Virgin it's the man that is sweet and innocent and the women who are making purely sexual advances on him. In Knocked Up it's emphasized that the female role is partially responsible for her accidental pregnancy as opposed to it being exclusively the dumb, horny man's fault. In Superbad, the sweet girl the main character has a crush on turns out to be the aggressive one; the hot, popular girl hosting the party turns out to not drink and isn't interested in popular, hot jocks. Even among the male characters the traditional roles are discarded. The fat kid isn't the meek sidekick but the confident and vulgar leader of the group and the nerdy kid is actually the most resourceful and street smart among them.
Superbad with Jonah Hill and Michael Cera. I'm not sure what to say about this one. I liked The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up a lot but this movie didn't quite do it for me. The first third of it was awesome and I liked the last part of it too but for some reason the big middle section sort of fell flat. I could tell it was trying to be funny but it came across as the kind of funny reserved exclusively for telling not-funny-at-the-time situations. Which is exactly the kind of situation they were in, but again, as you're watching it it's not funny at the time. Nearly everyone else I spoke to liked it a lot, so maybe it was just lost on me. Since I was never one to go out and party in high school all of the "oh, man that is so true!" moments were lost on me.
SPOILERS AHEAD
The previous two movies made by the same guys were funny and definitely had a moral to the story. This had a message (the crazy high school life really isn't/wasn't what it was cracked up to be) but it seemed to emphasize that at the expense of the comedy that the film is billed as.
One thing I must laud the producers on is their focus on reversed roles in their movies. In the 40 Year Old Virgin it's the man that is sweet and innocent and the women who are making purely sexual advances on him. In Knocked Up it's emphasized that the female role is partially responsible for her accidental pregnancy as opposed to it being exclusively the dumb, horny man's fault. In Superbad, the sweet girl the main character has a crush on turns out to be the aggressive one; the hot, popular girl hosting the party turns out to not drink and isn't interested in popular, hot jocks. Even among the male characters the traditional roles are discarded. The fat kid isn't the meek sidekick but the confident and vulgar leader of the group and the nerdy kid is actually the most resourceful and street smart among them.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Ants
I've always had a love/hate relationship with ants. For a time in elementary school we conducted campaigns against colonies, drawing them out and smashing them daily until there were hardly any workers left. But you could never get rid of them entirely. We knew there was a queen that we couldn't reach, but we thought we might be able to seal their colony shut with glue and rocks. But obviously that doesn't work. No matter what we did, they'd always come back. Once I realized that, I developed a respect for them and would study them as empirically as an eight-year-old on lunch break could. One such very scientific study involved comparisons between the red ants and the black ants, whose only visible difference seemed to be their color. Same size, same build, but common lore had it the red ants were more ferocious and and a more painful bite. The experiment consisted of collecting equal numbers of red ants and black ants, shaking the container and pouring them in the same enclosed space together. As I recall the red ants won, though it wasn't a fair match; the red ants ganged up on individual black ants.
I have a feeling that if my everyday experiences with ants were with South American or African ants, I would have just hated them outright. There's something about a river of ants that eats anything in its path that doesn't inspire the same kind of grudging admiration. The ants at Collier Elementary couldn't be kept down, they persevered, they were the underdogs. Those ants are just bullies. And then there are these ants. Nothing about this ant sounds good, it's apparently used in an initiation ritual into manhood. Like the guy said, "Why is it that things that make you a man tend to be such dumb things to do?" I'd prefer a slightly more practical test of manhood, something more Spartan.
I've always had a love/hate relationship with ants. For a time in elementary school we conducted campaigns against colonies, drawing them out and smashing them daily until there were hardly any workers left. But you could never get rid of them entirely. We knew there was a queen that we couldn't reach, but we thought we might be able to seal their colony shut with glue and rocks. But obviously that doesn't work. No matter what we did, they'd always come back. Once I realized that, I developed a respect for them and would study them as empirically as an eight-year-old on lunch break could. One such very scientific study involved comparisons between the red ants and the black ants, whose only visible difference seemed to be their color. Same size, same build, but common lore had it the red ants were more ferocious and and a more painful bite. The experiment consisted of collecting equal numbers of red ants and black ants, shaking the container and pouring them in the same enclosed space together. As I recall the red ants won, though it wasn't a fair match; the red ants ganged up on individual black ants.
I have a feeling that if my everyday experiences with ants were with South American or African ants, I would have just hated them outright. There's something about a river of ants that eats anything in its path that doesn't inspire the same kind of grudging admiration. The ants at Collier Elementary couldn't be kept down, they persevered, they were the underdogs. Those ants are just bullies. And then there are these ants. Nothing about this ant sounds good, it's apparently used in an initiation ritual into manhood. Like the guy said, "Why is it that things that make you a man tend to be such dumb things to do?" I'd prefer a slightly more practical test of manhood, something more Spartan.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Beyond Bread
Saturday was my last day at Beyond Bread. Unlike Sunflower Market I really did enjoy working there, despite the inevitable stupidity of people. I don't want to work in a restaurant again for precisely that reason. Thankfully the idiocy was limited primarily to customers and the occasional coworker and not the managers, which again, is more than I could say about Sunflower. I didn't learn as much about humanity as I did with my first job, but important lessons can still be drawn from the experience. Some of these might not be lessons so much as rants, but oh well:
-Passing the anti-smoking law in Arizona really helped get rid of the most unpleasant coworkers. Within a week of that passing the mean, dessicated, beady eyed spinster, the creepy, fish-faced,-alleged pedophile and the irritatingly flamboyantly gay drug addict all quit or were fired. Funny how my upbringing indirectly taught me that smokers were bad people and I fought against that generalization for years, yet the worst people at work all just happened to be smokers. I felt vindicated, but I'm still trying to fight that prejudice.
-Beyond Bread seems to hire two main types of people: beautiful young girls and creepy and/or lecherous men. There's more variety than that but the trend is readily visible and puzzling. On top of that there's a division between the Front of House and the Sandwich Line. The FoH people tend to be the attractive, charismatic and polite type while the Sandwich Line tend to be the foul mouthed, rude and surly type. There are exceptions to every rule, of course.
-Every semester I try to give sorority girls the benefit of the doubt; maybe they're not as dumb as we all think, maybe it's all an act. And every semester I'm angry at myself for questioning my own senses. I'm sorry, they really are dumb and as polite as they pretend to be with their smiles and upward inflections? they are rather inconsiderate. I have a long list of stories I could tell, but I'll just give you this one: after an agonizingly long and confused and needlessly complicated order they declare how they must be the worst customers in the world (they're not, sadly) and that I should get a tip for putting up with them. They proceed to pay and walk off with a "'annnkyou!" and leave no tip. I don't mind not getting a tip, really I don't, but if you basically tell someone you'll give them a tip because you know you've been difficult and you don't tip them at all, you're a total bitch.
-Some things to remember are: Beyond Bread does not have pastrami. Nor does it have potato salad. Nor does it have a soup/salad/sandwich combo. They have menus by the front of the entrance, please take two seconds to locate them. The sides are (please remember this): chips (they are called Beyond Bread Crisps on the menu. This is admittedly confusing as they are not chips of bread but simply house brand potato chips) baked Lays, baby carrots (they are raw, why would you have cooked carrots as a side?) or for an extra fifty cents pasta salad (totally worth it) or vinegar slaw (wouldn't be worth it if it were free). If you're going to order half a sandwich, let the cashier know that part first, not last.
-Getting free pastries night after night on the closing shift sounds great at first, but the novelty wears off soon. Or at least it should.
-Do not complain about how fat you are while you take home multiple pastries a night each night for a month.
-The highly volatile and eccentric people they hire at Beyond Bread are, as the managers pointed out, the good ones. "You should see the ones we turn away!" Now there's an unsettling thought. And on a related note, don't ask for a job application reeking of alcohol. Also, don't answer "Why do you want to work here?" with "I'm really desperate for work! Please! I'll work anywhere!"
-If I find the people who seem to enjoy deliberately defiling public restrooms, I will stab them in the eye (I strongly encourage you to do the same). Seriously now, what reason is there to pee on the floor, crap on the side of the toilet or wipe your snot on the walls? Assholes.
-Ending on a high note, customer stupidity or mere oddness is the greatest source of entertainment there is at work. From people ordering Montezuma's Revenge and Gordy's Godzilla to a bowl of Gestapo and the Eat Me Out salad. The last funny story I heard was regarding a certain young, blonde, beautiful and shapely customer. Usually she only comes in with a very rich older man and of course he pays for their meal. But the other day she came in by herself and when she paid with her credit card the cashier noticed her name: Tyndall Tsunami. The first thought that went through her head (bless her sweet little heart) was that she must have married him because of his last name. She seemed very unaware of how much that sounded like a porn star name. I Googled it (how could I not?) but found nothing. I'm also left wondering why you would have your stage name on your credit card.
Saturday was my last day at Beyond Bread. Unlike Sunflower Market I really did enjoy working there, despite the inevitable stupidity of people. I don't want to work in a restaurant again for precisely that reason. Thankfully the idiocy was limited primarily to customers and the occasional coworker and not the managers, which again, is more than I could say about Sunflower. I didn't learn as much about humanity as I did with my first job, but important lessons can still be drawn from the experience. Some of these might not be lessons so much as rants, but oh well:
-Passing the anti-smoking law in Arizona really helped get rid of the most unpleasant coworkers. Within a week of that passing the mean, dessicated, beady eyed spinster, the creepy, fish-faced,-alleged pedophile and the irritatingly flamboyantly gay drug addict all quit or were fired. Funny how my upbringing indirectly taught me that smokers were bad people and I fought against that generalization for years, yet the worst people at work all just happened to be smokers. I felt vindicated, but I'm still trying to fight that prejudice.
-Beyond Bread seems to hire two main types of people: beautiful young girls and creepy and/or lecherous men. There's more variety than that but the trend is readily visible and puzzling. On top of that there's a division between the Front of House and the Sandwich Line. The FoH people tend to be the attractive, charismatic and polite type while the Sandwich Line tend to be the foul mouthed, rude and surly type. There are exceptions to every rule, of course.
-Every semester I try to give sorority girls the benefit of the doubt; maybe they're not as dumb as we all think, maybe it's all an act. And every semester I'm angry at myself for questioning my own senses. I'm sorry, they really are dumb and as polite as they pretend to be with their smiles and upward inflections? they are rather inconsiderate. I have a long list of stories I could tell, but I'll just give you this one: after an agonizingly long and confused and needlessly complicated order they declare how they must be the worst customers in the world (they're not, sadly) and that I should get a tip for putting up with them. They proceed to pay and walk off with a "'annnkyou!" and leave no tip. I don't mind not getting a tip, really I don't, but if you basically tell someone you'll give them a tip because you know you've been difficult and you don't tip them at all, you're a total bitch.
-Some things to remember are: Beyond Bread does not have pastrami. Nor does it have potato salad. Nor does it have a soup/salad/sandwich combo. They have menus by the front of the entrance, please take two seconds to locate them. The sides are (please remember this): chips (they are called Beyond Bread Crisps on the menu. This is admittedly confusing as they are not chips of bread but simply house brand potato chips) baked Lays, baby carrots (they are raw, why would you have cooked carrots as a side?) or for an extra fifty cents pasta salad (totally worth it) or vinegar slaw (wouldn't be worth it if it were free). If you're going to order half a sandwich, let the cashier know that part first, not last.
-Getting free pastries night after night on the closing shift sounds great at first, but the novelty wears off soon. Or at least it should.
-Do not complain about how fat you are while you take home multiple pastries a night each night for a month.
-The highly volatile and eccentric people they hire at Beyond Bread are, as the managers pointed out, the good ones. "You should see the ones we turn away!" Now there's an unsettling thought. And on a related note, don't ask for a job application reeking of alcohol. Also, don't answer "Why do you want to work here?" with "I'm really desperate for work! Please! I'll work anywhere!"
-If I find the people who seem to enjoy deliberately defiling public restrooms, I will stab them in the eye (I strongly encourage you to do the same). Seriously now, what reason is there to pee on the floor, crap on the side of the toilet or wipe your snot on the walls? Assholes.
-Ending on a high note, customer stupidity or mere oddness is the greatest source of entertainment there is at work. From people ordering Montezuma's Revenge and Gordy's Godzilla to a bowl of Gestapo and the Eat Me Out salad. The last funny story I heard was regarding a certain young, blonde, beautiful and shapely customer. Usually she only comes in with a very rich older man and of course he pays for their meal. But the other day she came in by herself and when she paid with her credit card the cashier noticed her name: Tyndall Tsunami. The first thought that went through her head (bless her sweet little heart) was that she must have married him because of his last name. She seemed very unaware of how much that sounded like a porn star name. I Googled it (how could I not?) but found nothing. I'm also left wondering why you would have your stage name on your credit card.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Shoulda Coulda Woulda
I have been puzzled by several people's notions of regret and reconciliation with the past. Though nothing has recently incited this posting, I feel I've digested the matter sufficiently to venture an opinion. There are those that say they do not regret any of the things they have done in the past because there's no point in dwelling on the past, or that if it wasn't supposed to happen it wouldn't have, or frequently that they do not regret because the experiences made them who they are today. While these are all well and good means of coping with one's ignoble past deeds (and I believe any rationalization that works is better than sullenly obsessing over one's mistakes) I wonder if people apply that type of reasoning beforehand. Something along the lines of foolishness begets wisdom, which I can hardly disagree with since I know several people with colorful pasts with a wisdom beyond the ken of my own stuffy self. That said, such wisdom does come at a cost of happiness and if the idea of regret even enters one's head it was probably not something altogether pleasant.
But just because someone went through such an experience does not necessarily make them wiser. There are some who do knowingly things against their better judgment and later claim the ordeal was worth it because now they know why it was a bad idea. This logic baffles me; it's as though they decided to hit themselves in the face with a hammer knowing full well that common knowledge says that's a painful experience, then after hitting themselves in the face with a hammer declare that the experience was worthwhile because now they know exactly why people always say, "Don't hit yourself in the face with a hammer."
There's also the issue of what everyone else will think about them. Now common belief holds that we shouldn't care what everyone else will think about our actions. In the literal sense this is true; we shouldn't worry what everyone will think, but I have yet to meet a single person who does not alter their behavior based on what some will think. At any rate, whether or not you decide to feel (or at least tell people that you feel) regret is contingent on how you think people around you will react. In the realm of, say, sexual experiences, if you knowingly enter the situation and can reasonably expect the experience to ultimately be negative or humiliating you have two options. You can either regret doing something against your better judgment and have people think you're a fool for doing it in the first place (as I admittedly just did in the previous paragraph) or you can adopt the "No regrets!" attitude and have people think you're either a slut or a womanizing pig. So the choice ends up being, do you want to be thought of (by yourself as well as others) as stupid or rakish?
Moving away from specifically sexual regret, people still have different concepts of regret, or at least different from how I would qualify or define it. I think people who claim they have no regrets think that it means constant sullen brooding over some past action they wish they could have done differently. I would qualify regret at its most basic as when you wish you could have made a different decision given the information you had at the time (hindsight is always 20/20, after all). For example, I sometimes wish I had made more of an effort to have a more socially eventful freshman year of college. But had I had a really great time that first year, I would have likely felt I had too much to lose by leaving the country for a year. So in that instance, I do regret not doing something even though that nonaction ultimately resulted in the amazing experience of studying abroad. On the other hand, though, doing something like being needlessly mean to someone at some point ultimately made me the person I am today. But if I hadn't done that would it really have made such a profound difference in who I am? And if it did, who can say whether it would have been an improvement or not?
I have been puzzled by several people's notions of regret and reconciliation with the past. Though nothing has recently incited this posting, I feel I've digested the matter sufficiently to venture an opinion. There are those that say they do not regret any of the things they have done in the past because there's no point in dwelling on the past, or that if it wasn't supposed to happen it wouldn't have, or frequently that they do not regret because the experiences made them who they are today. While these are all well and good means of coping with one's ignoble past deeds (and I believe any rationalization that works is better than sullenly obsessing over one's mistakes) I wonder if people apply that type of reasoning beforehand. Something along the lines of foolishness begets wisdom, which I can hardly disagree with since I know several people with colorful pasts with a wisdom beyond the ken of my own stuffy self. That said, such wisdom does come at a cost of happiness and if the idea of regret even enters one's head it was probably not something altogether pleasant.
But just because someone went through such an experience does not necessarily make them wiser. There are some who do knowingly things against their better judgment and later claim the ordeal was worth it because now they know why it was a bad idea. This logic baffles me; it's as though they decided to hit themselves in the face with a hammer knowing full well that common knowledge says that's a painful experience, then after hitting themselves in the face with a hammer declare that the experience was worthwhile because now they know exactly why people always say, "Don't hit yourself in the face with a hammer."
There's also the issue of what everyone else will think about them. Now common belief holds that we shouldn't care what everyone else will think about our actions. In the literal sense this is true; we shouldn't worry what everyone will think, but I have yet to meet a single person who does not alter their behavior based on what some will think. At any rate, whether or not you decide to feel (or at least tell people that you feel) regret is contingent on how you think people around you will react. In the realm of, say, sexual experiences, if you knowingly enter the situation and can reasonably expect the experience to ultimately be negative or humiliating you have two options. You can either regret doing something against your better judgment and have people think you're a fool for doing it in the first place (as I admittedly just did in the previous paragraph) or you can adopt the "No regrets!" attitude and have people think you're either a slut or a womanizing pig. So the choice ends up being, do you want to be thought of (by yourself as well as others) as stupid or rakish?
Moving away from specifically sexual regret, people still have different concepts of regret, or at least different from how I would qualify or define it. I think people who claim they have no regrets think that it means constant sullen brooding over some past action they wish they could have done differently. I would qualify regret at its most basic as when you wish you could have made a different decision given the information you had at the time (hindsight is always 20/20, after all). For example, I sometimes wish I had made more of an effort to have a more socially eventful freshman year of college. But had I had a really great time that first year, I would have likely felt I had too much to lose by leaving the country for a year. So in that instance, I do regret not doing something even though that nonaction ultimately resulted in the amazing experience of studying abroad. On the other hand, though, doing something like being needlessly mean to someone at some point ultimately made me the person I am today. But if I hadn't done that would it really have made such a profound difference in who I am? And if it did, who can say whether it would have been an improvement or not?
Friday, August 03, 2007
Rotten Grapevine
One thing I have come to learn is that second hand accounts of people are inherently unreliable. This may seem like a pretty obvious statement but there's more to it than you'd think. Typically the person being talked about (person B) is a friend or loved one of a friend or loved one (person A). We have never met person B, or possibly only met briefly, as a result the only impressions we get of this person are from other people's (person A's) accounts of them. So if our friend is upset at this absent person, that's going to color our perceptions about them. Rarely does one just bring up person B and go on about their virtues, it tends to be that person B has angered or upset person A and A is now venting. If this happens enough, all we know about person B is that they seem to be a total jerk and have no redeeming features. Then when we voice this opinion to person A they instantly defend person B claiming we've got them all wrong and they're really a good person. We will tend to be skeptical of this since we've never heard anything resembling that sentiment before. We lack the ability to forgive person B's flaws since we have no counterbalance to all this negative info. This both blinds us and gives us clarity on the true nature of person B; we have obviously never met them and have no way to judge their character as a whole. We might, in fact, like them just as much as person A does if only given the opportunity. On the other hand, since we are not friends with them we are immune to their charms and may see inexcusable behavior for what it is and not be duped into ignoring it.
Will knowing any of this prevent you from making judgments about people you have only heard about? No, of course not. The ultimate outcome of that is when, through differing accounts, I thought that Frank's friend Connie was literally three different people. With that in mind, remember until you actually meet them, you only know half the story.
Except for person C, they clearly suck.
One thing I have come to learn is that second hand accounts of people are inherently unreliable. This may seem like a pretty obvious statement but there's more to it than you'd think. Typically the person being talked about (person B) is a friend or loved one of a friend or loved one (person A). We have never met person B, or possibly only met briefly, as a result the only impressions we get of this person are from other people's (person A's) accounts of them. So if our friend is upset at this absent person, that's going to color our perceptions about them. Rarely does one just bring up person B and go on about their virtues, it tends to be that person B has angered or upset person A and A is now venting. If this happens enough, all we know about person B is that they seem to be a total jerk and have no redeeming features. Then when we voice this opinion to person A they instantly defend person B claiming we've got them all wrong and they're really a good person. We will tend to be skeptical of this since we've never heard anything resembling that sentiment before. We lack the ability to forgive person B's flaws since we have no counterbalance to all this negative info. This both blinds us and gives us clarity on the true nature of person B; we have obviously never met them and have no way to judge their character as a whole. We might, in fact, like them just as much as person A does if only given the opportunity. On the other hand, since we are not friends with them we are immune to their charms and may see inexcusable behavior for what it is and not be duped into ignoring it.
Will knowing any of this prevent you from making judgments about people you have only heard about? No, of course not. The ultimate outcome of that is when, through differing accounts, I thought that Frank's friend Connie was literally three different people. With that in mind, remember until you actually meet them, you only know half the story.
Except for person C, they clearly suck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)