As a matter of fact, I am also getting out of the, in my case, volunteer job I had been doing for some years now. The situation has been rendered intolerable by a couple of control freaks whom I dared to defy. However, if no one is willing or able to take over I will stay and continue to infuriate those who insist on their way or no way. Thanks for the encouraging words and good luck! - the Ed



Hans Christian Andersen wrote dark stories for children and enjoyed a rather fab life as a respected author. In the 1940s (I think) Sam Goldwyn produced a musical called "Hans Christian Andersen" with music and lyrics by Frank Loesser and starring Danny Kaye. Kaye was fabulous as a physical comedian but in this movie his comedic talents are not much called for. It's an Andersenesque tragic fairy tale (based very loosely on the story of the tin soldier and the ballerina) although with an upbeat ending. It has nothing to do with Andersen's real life story. What it does have is a set of world class tunes and some gorgeous sets. Also some interesting choreography although the starring ballerina, for all her chops, was not the greatest hoofer I had ever seen. But never mind.

I first saw the movie too many years ago to remember when, or for that matter, to remember (except for the tunes, which are permanently stuck in my mind). So it was all new to me when I watched it last night. What really caught my eye were the sets for the dance pieces. Many of them were fine works of abstract expressionism - strikingly beautiful, expressive, evocative, imaginative, fantastic. They stole the show. I looked in the very basic 1940s style title credits for the name of the set designer but there wasn't any listed. There was a name associated with "set decorator" which I did not recognize. I'll have to check out the web movie archives and dig out the designer's name - he (probably not she) is an artist worth knowing.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/27/08 (#0224)  Bad day in Possum Hollow


I don't interact well with people in real time (I blame the old Asperger's - a convenient excuse). When people are friendly and rational I can fake my way through most situations, but when they are unfriendly and/or irrational I allow myself to get all flustered and then hate myself for not having kept my cool. Later, much later, I can sort out the motives and methods of all parties including myself and come to understand how I got trapped into irrational behavior, but by then it's water under the bridge. Then it happens all over again.

The good thing that comes out of my interactions with unfriendly irrational people is that I am made acutely aware that my thoughts run on different tracks than those of my readers or listeners. I keep being amazed at the extent to which people can misunderstand my words. Actually, this is very useful information which I should always keep at the back of my mind but I keep forgetting. No matter the lengths I go to to assure my statements are of pellucid clarity, their intent can and will be detoured, inverted, subverted or obliterated. To provoke an attack all you really need to do is open your mouth. It is at such moments that I grow especially appreciative of the subtle art of persuasion wherein one must at first cater to the very qualities of mind one seeks to dismantle or turn around. But I have no talent nor taste for it. I plough on directly and desperately, against better judgement, until I'm stuck with no wiggle room left. It's my pathetic rebellion against "what is the case", my doomed heroic refusal to go along with reality. (I have my quixotic side...)

So after a day of charging at the windmills I am allowing myself just a pinch of discouragement (with myself, of course) to season my perennial optimism. But I shall heed my own words uttered today to a man who was complaining that his volunteer service was too thankless and burdensome and thinking of quitting. I said: "somebody has to commit to bear the burden or the whole enterprise fails and everybody looses, the good the bad and the indifferent". Nilly willy we have to drag along with us the useless but unsheddable dross or go nowhere.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/25/08 (#0223)  Next big bust


You read it here first. I predict the next big bust will be in contemporary art. So if you're heavily invested in recent works of today's hottest artists - now's the time to unload them. Anytime now, some naive celebrity is bound to point out the plainly evident but, so far, carefully ignored fact that the Emperor has no pants on, and her remark, caught by some amateur camera and subsequently posted on the You Tube, will spark a spontaneous global explosion of derision and laughter.

In the last decades of the 19th century and early decades of the 20th, there was much outrage and frustration as the fine craft of pictorial art gave way to uninhibited experimentation with impression, expression, abstraction and pure form not consciously intended to symbolize, evoke or represent anything other than itself. All that was understandably a little hard to take for minds conditioned by the longstanding tradition of skillful pictorialism, but it brought about a conceptual revolution that vastly expanded the range of methods and means available to art. Long live the revolution!

However, like all revolutions, the aesthetic revolution brought with it its own peculiar excesses and atrocities and no end of confusion (which continues to this day despite or perhaps because of Duchamp and the Dadaists who revelled in it). These are unavoidable consequences of revolutions, but as long as the natural processes of discrimination and judgement are allowed to play out normally, no permanent harm is done. The idiocies, the inadequacies, the vapidities, and plain incompetencies are sorted out over time and wind up in the trashcan of art history.

This will also happen inevitably to the contemporary art (the well documented Sturgeon's Law states - somewhat optimistically - that 90% of everything is crud). But just at the moment we are in a bubble of irrational exhuberance with respect to the most extreme experimentations with the notion of "art". Of course, art must keep testing its limits but not all such tests result in successful breakthroughs. In fact, damn few do. That's what's not being recognized by the current crop of art cognoscenti and art collectors (not, incidentally, one and the same though there may be some overlap). In this post-post-modern era of artistic laissez faire absolutely anything goes which is a lot of fun unless you take it seriously. I suppose it's OK if you shell out big bucks on this stuff - consider it a philantropic investment in art R&D - just don't become infatuated with it lest you too become an object of ridicule.

In the meantime, the craft of skilled pictorialism lives on, both as a classical tradition and as a significant part of the contemporary mainstream. It has become a standard part of art's technical tool kit though nowadays it is often used ironically or metaphorically.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/21/08 (#0222) Thoughts for Good Friday


What is the difference between "necessary" and "unavoidable" when used in reference to suffering? It's a matter of presence or absence of conscious intent. It's the difference between "I need to suffer" and "I can't avoid suffering". Which one was the case with Jesus who was publicly tortured to death by the reluctant Romans at the behest of the Jewish religious establishment who were afraid of his heterodoxy and growing popularity?

I don't know what the contemporary Christian theology has to say on this subject but many traditional Christians believe it was the former, that Jesus suffered willingly because it was necessary. My own view is that Jesus suffered patiently because it was unavoidable. This, I think, is in accord with the concept of a loving God. Such a God would not desire to inflict torture on anyone, least of all on someone in such special relationship to God as Jesus. But, as I have argued before, evil (and the accompanying suffering) is not avoidable, at least, not absolutely. Evil is the chaotic, unpredictable aspect of the process of realization of intent (i.e. creation), the ultimately irreducible error inherent in every intentional act, even though it may run counter to God's intention. It is, as it were, God's adversary ("satan" in Hebrew).

Obviously, God's intent cannot be absolutely thwarted by chaos (which is necessary to creation). It may be hard won (the only way possible) but it prevails. Jesus's horrible death caught humankind's attention and his life continues to change hearts to this day.

Until Tuesday (the Nutshell is taking Easter off),

Paul W.



03/20/08 (#0221)  America dreaming


At present, the stock markets want to crash - we are in the full fledged Fear Cycle. The Feds are taking desperate measures to keep the markets breathing, but it's not taking. Each shock treatment results in a spasm of irrational exhuberance followed immediately by a re-collapse. The charts for the last few months look wildly out of control (though the long term trend is down down down). Rumors abound. Somebody is making lots of money at the expense of all the regular Joes who piled into the stock market when it was in the Greed Cycle. But the regular Joe accounts for 70% of the economy so by squeezing him dry the pros are undercuting the very structure they feed on. Killing the golden goose, in effect.

However, we do have a safety net: the war in Iraq. That's going to keep the contractors busy and profitable for next hundred years (according to the next president of the USA). Eventually all Americans will be working for the war effort, directly or indirectly. If need be, we'll start another war - Iran has taken over from Iraq as the Next Big Threat. Invading Pakistan might not be a bad idea either. We can't invade North Korea because the Chinese might object and they're bigger than us, or soon will be. Russia is an interesing possibility, but so far, nobody has succeeded. Napoleon and Hitler both failed but, of course, they didn't have nuclear weapons and anti-missile missiles. We do.

Protecting and promoting US style democracy and the American Dream is getting to be a full time job. After all, everything else is secondary. We may not have time, money or energy left to live the American Dream but, of course, dreams are not meant for living, they're meant for dreaming. And, anyway, we can enjoy the American Dream vicariously through the public lives of the few who, by the dint of hard work, determination, and good connections do get to actually live it.

Of course, I'm not complaining or anything like that. I'm living my dream. In America.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/19/08 (#0220)  Odds & ends


Item: Checking the YouTube for videos about Clinton and Obama I discovered that Obama's detractors are much more vocal and virulent than Clinton's. There are some folks out there bound and determined not to let a n****r (pardon my political correctness) into the White House. However, I was heartened by Obama's speech today. He did the right thing - he acknowledged his race and his roots in the black culture and fully embraced them. Then he attacked racism head on. In the end, this could actually turn out to be a boost for his campaign.

Item: As a calm, cool and collected rationalist I can't even begin to understand people given to extremes of passion. I know it has to do with hormonal balance plus conditioning, but that doesn't tell me what a towering rage feels like, or uncontrollable lust, or cold hatred. In my teens I have been infatuated with a number of girls which is as close to extreme passion as I ever got. I even contemplated suicide once but talked myself out of it. What I feel for people totally driven by their passions is a mixture of horrified pity and admiration. In any case, I try to stay clear of them just as I would try to stay clear of a hurricane. It's only prudent.

Item: I totally understand lesbians. What I can't understand is why most women (and some men) are attracted to men. Women, at their most glorious, are enchanting creatures. OK, so some of them are bitches or narcissistic gold-diggers or dumb blondes, driving one to muse why can't a woman be more like a man. But in her essence a woman is a graceful and a beautiful being. Men, on the other hand, tend to be boorish, brutish, uncouth and ugly. Majority seem to have failed to evolve from the cave dwellers in whom those were desirable qualities.  I can see why some enlightened men might wish they were women. 

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/19/08 (#0219)  Just doing it


I wish I knew what I'm doing. Actually, I don't. I'm not sure I'd be doing what I'm doing if I knew what I'm doing and I do want to do it. So I'm doing it and leaving it to others to judge. I can't. And that's OK. It's still a lot better than doing nothing.

My biggest problem has always been that I have to have a reason for everything. Correction: I have to have a reason for doing anything that requires an effort. I do not require any justification for just playing with stuff for the fascination of it, or better yet, doing nothing.  That is my good side. The trouble is my good side is non-productive.

My other side is obsessed with the idea of being worth something. To whom is not clear. My style is not to play to any particular audience. I figure that being human, if I do what I like it's bound to be worth something to somebody. At least that's my fond delusion. So here I am, trying to combine my both sides in a project that requires an effort to produce tangible results but it's what I want (not necessarily like) to do. I have no idea whether it's worth doing or why, so I'm just doing it. That bothers me. Of course, if somebody should say to me: "Hey, I like that and I want it" that would take care of my angst.

I'm not counting on it. If I did, that would violate my principle of not producing anything for anybody in particular. That would be employment and I have sworn a great oath to remain permanently unemployed to the end of my days. So I have to allow for the possibility that what I produce is not going to be worth anything to anyone. Sigh...

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.
  



03/17/08 (#0218)  Loosers


My favorite news analyst, Daniel Shore of NPR, noted recently that the Democratic Party never misses an opportunity to miss an opportunity.  This time it has contrived to miss an opportunity of historical magnitude - to finally break the necks of American sexism and racism which, though incarcerated in the dungeons of political correctness, are still very much alive and active.

I give Democrats E for effort. Thanks to them we had our moment of audacious hope. However, the gray reality is that America evidently is not yet ready for a president who is a woman or a dark skinned person. Clinton and Obama will mutually self-destruct (with ample assistance from those who have vested interest in destroying them both) and McCain will win by default.

We could do worse. In any case, I don't see McCain lasting for two full terms - though I may be wrong. I could also be wrong about Democrats handing the presidency to McCain. It may be that Clinton will prove to be indestructible. Or perhaps Obama will manage to fire the American national imagination and show himself capable of being an inspiring leader of all the people. At the moment these scenarios look like longshots. But who knows? The only sure thing is that Democratic victory is no longer a sure thing.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/15/08 (#0217)  Tremors


Re TN #216) It is my personal belief and experience that once you notice God in the here and now, the Joy which is God, is perceived, along with a peace that which usually can not be explained in any simple terms. - Elisa

I would leave out "usually" and "simple". This is the realm of immediate (pre-verbal) experience which is only obscured by words. - the Ed



There are, to my regret, few genuine mysteries in my life but this is one of them.

I live in the woods, in a little chalet perched on stilts, clinging to a mountainside. The dead end gravel road leading to the chalet is only travelled by me and my several neighbors further down the road. The nearest public road is at least a mile and half away. As I sit here typing this, all is quiet and peaceful. No creature is stirring, not even a mouse (also to my regret, I had to evict the mice, cute as they are, because they were not housetrained). I got the all night jazz program on the radio but it isn't creating any perceivable disturbance. Everything is as it should be. Normal.

However, every once in a while, as I sit quietly at the computer, or in my recliner, reading, I perceive distinct tremors, usually accompanied by barely audible sound like a heavy truck rumbling in the distance. I say distinct because there is no doubt in my mind that I am experiencing these tremors, yet they are so subtle that I have to wonder whether I am hallucinating. The whole house seems to be vibrating but there is no visible evidence of it - I can only feel it in my body - just barely. I haven't timed this phenomenon but it seems to last for many minutes. It's not momentary. It goes on and on.

Naturally, I get a little nervous whan this happens. The chalet is overburdened with books and stuff (it actually started sinking at one corner and I had to have it lifted and propped up with extra stilts). I can visualize it sliding down the montainside into the creek below. Actually, I very much doubt these tremors are strong enough to have any effect on my foundations. Besides, they may not even be real.

I don't think they are earthquakes. Minor earthquakes do occur in this area, but only very rarely. This is not a rare phenomenon, and it doesn't have the characteristics of an earthquake. I had a weak and not very credible theory that the vibration may be caused by wind shaking the trees which in turn shake the ground but that was completely blown out when the vibrations occurred on several calm windless nights (I have only experienced the tremors at night). So far the phenomenon is a total mystery.

Until Monday,

Paul W.



03/14/08 (#0216)  Where's God?


Whatever you think I mean by God, that's not it. However, here's a clue: as you know, I choose to believe that the universe makes sense and has a raison d'etre. This belief is not any more rational than the belief that the universe makes no sense and has no purpose (which some atheists insist makes sense to them) but it is certainly a happier one (which, oddly, is the very reason the same atheists reject it, their argument being "the universe wasn't made to make us happy". How do they know that?). Anyway, just to make these atheists even more unhappy (why not? they seem to like it) I further believe that the purpose of the universe is to experience joy. Take that, you miserable atheists!

Somehow, experiencing joy is related to Godhood and I'll leave it at that. This does not inhibit me from asking the Religious Question: where's God? (Religion is all about finding God). In fact, I have the chutzpah to think I know the answer (it's not illegal to think that).

My stated belief implies that God is everywhere. This actually is not very helpful. Where exactly is "everywhere"? Well, here-now, for one. In fact, here-now is the only place I actually know by direct experience. The only place I can know by direct experience. Everywhere "else" is only an inference from my experience of the here-now. That simplifies the search for God a lot. God has got to be here-now. There are no other places for God to hide from me. Not if God is to be found.

So far so good. Now comes the curious part. If God is here-now and I am here-now how come I'm not perceiving God? The answer to that is contained in two questions: who said I am here-now? And: who said I am not perceiving God? Which brings us to a third question: who am "I"?

What I think of as "I" is, for practical purposes, the content of my mind which represents only a part of my being. While my mind is certainly operating in the here-now it's content may be scattered over the whole universe. My mind may be revisiting the past, projecting the future, creating and playing with abstract thoughts and images, and not paying much attention, if any, to what's actually happening here-now. Most of the time we operate on the automatic pilot, at the lower levels of consciousness ("subconscious" as Freud labelled it) not even noticing how we got from there to here. So one thing I need to do to get into the same box with God is to pay conscious attention to the here-now. (This is popularly known as "meditation").

But the other thing is, I am already experiencing God, whatever state my mind may be in. The very miracle of my mind, my experience of being is a direct perception of God. All I need to do is notice.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/13/08 (#0215)  Fine print


Not the kind you buy framed to hang over the sofa. I mean the all but illegible microscopic text printed in light gray ink at the bottom of the back of the flyer exhorting you to take advantage of this incredible, never to be repeated opportunity to save 60%* (* of the highest price ever advertised for a similar but higher quality item) and get a fabulous gift absolutely free* (* with signing of a lifetime contract), with nothing down and ultra low payments* (* for first six months).

Obviously the advertiser's hope is that you will not even notice, let alone read the fine print. But just in case you get the crazy notion to actually read it (with the aid of a good magnifying glass) you'll find that the text is not in English but in highly compressed legalese designed for zero intelligibility. You will not be able to make heads or tails of it. As intended.

For years I have been trying to find out the actual cost of a sattelite based or a cable based stand-alone Internet service. No dice. I could not decifer the fine print gobbledygook and the large print text only hyped all the "free" stuff and the low "introductory" payments. The only way I could find out was by actually subscribing and waiting for my first monthly bill. Now I know - it's $49.95 per month for the cable high speed Internet. I still don't know the price of the sattelite service. Neighbors are of no help - they have different "packages" at various prices, none of them a straight Internet service..

In this country (and I'm sure we're a typical market based society), at least on the retail level, it is evidently impossible to sell anything without concealment and deceit. You give the customer straight goods about the product quality and price at the risk, nay, assurance of bankruptcy. 

When it comes to industrial sales, the situation is very different. Purchasing agents have no tolerance for the "fine print" nonsense and salespeople don't even try. Sales contracts are based strictly on fully disclosed facts, whether they be product specifications and prices or strategic business advantages, legitimate or not. There may be some misunderstandings and deliberate slanting of data, but as a rule, nobody's trying to fool anybody - except perhaps some fly-by-night outfits, here today gone tomorrow, feeding off greed and inexperience of newbie buyers.

Why then do the consumers have to be fooled? Because, unlike the industrial buyers, the consumers are thoroughly and hopelessly irrational. They don't buy things, they buy dreams and hopes. Not the steak but the sizzle. Not the book but its cover. And when it comes to figuring out real costs of buying an item, forget it. They don't even want to know. As far as consumers are concerned ther are no "real" costs. As MasterCard actually stresses in their ads, consumers see their purchases as priceless experiences (or hopes thereof).

They may be right. Life is not about costs, it's about feelings. Feelings are priceless. The only question is, can you charge them? That depends, at least in part, on your credit rating.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/12/08 (#0214)  Hard labor


Speaking of stress, I'm in the process of running a sort of a stress test on myself to see how much I can take before I self-destruct. I have committed to have a show on May 17th (you heard it here first!). But I have been lazy or indisposed for most of the last year so I have very little in way of new work to show. Especially paintings.

As diligent readers of the Nutshell already know, I am a handicapped artist - I can't draw. I mean I have no natural aptitude for it. Maybe even an antitalent. But, as Da Vinci or Rembrandt or some other important artist noted (I can't be bothered to look it up right now), drawing is the foundation of painting. I get by by virtue of intensive labor. What might take Sargent, the Paganini of the paint brush, a few minutes to toss off, takes me hours or days of faking it. It's a frustrating and stressful process. Eventually, by torturing the image long enough, I get there, but it's no fun at all.

Inspiration is not a problem. I have zillions of ideas screaming to be painted. It's the execution that's a killer. So anyway, I'm trying to paint a painting a week between now and the show time. I have never done this before. A painting a month is my best rate ever to date. To make it possible I have restricted the size of each painting to a standard 24" x 30" and the subject matter to landscapes - specifically imaginary re-interpretations of landscapes from my travels captured with an early digital camera with the magnificent resolution of 600,000 pixels. I had intended that these rough images would be sketches for future paintings and now, a decade later, I am finally getting around to carrying out this intent.

I don't know how long I will last. I'm on the fourth one. But two of the other three have yet to be finished. I can't finish a painting in one continuous series of work sessions. At some point it has to be set aside and I have to get away from it and come back to it later with a fresh eye.

Well, there's nothing for it but to carry on relentlessly with the drudgery until I drop or run out of time.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/11/08 (#0213)  Romantic, exquisite, and cheap.

(Re TN #212) Amen Bro, good for the soul and the bod too!.  P.S.  F.Y.I.:  the "old dictum " is Proverbs 17:22  - cassandra eatingapples

To be exact: "A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones." (NRSV). This observation was first made at least 3100 years ago, without, nota bene, the benefit of the scientific method. Yet many act as if it was news to them... - the Ed.

 

(Re TN #212) "Research indicates that children smile or laugh 400 times per day, adults smile or laugh 15 or less times per day and think negative ideas ¾ of the time. Laughter benefits the body, mind and intellect and the dominant emotions of pleasure, peace, love, and joy. It can control high blood pressure and heart disease and strengthens the immune system. It is the best exercise for bronchitis and asthma by improving the lung capacity and oxygen level in the blood …and it reduces snoring because laughter is very good for the muscles of the soft palate and throat!" - found by Charles

The Voice of the Contemporary Authority for those who don't trust 3100 year old proverbs. - the Ed


Today's title refers to the required specifications for the love tokens Rev. Dr. H.H.H. and I exchange on traditional occasions. It has never been a problem to meet them. "The best things in life are free" claims another old dictum. However, not all the good things are free. But in this golden age of general prosperity (in most of the world anyway and certainly in North America and Europe) almost all the good things can be had cheap.

The most spectacular date I ever had (with all due respect to Rev. Dr. H.H.H. with whom I had more spectacular dates than with anyone else) was with a pleasant young woman who looked and dressed every inch a supermodel. It was at the company Christmas Party and everybody's jaw hit the floor when I walked in with my date. It was the talk of the company for weeks. The lady in question was actually just a friend, we never had any romantic involvement. She was a single mom on a meagre income. But she had the bod and was a genius at dressing on the cheap.

It was she who introduced me to the thrift and second hand stores - I hadn't known such places existed. I have been making good use of them ever since. Among other appurtenances of good life, I have built myself a library worthy of an ivy league scholar by scouring every used book store I have come across.

It is so easy nowadays to live well and elegantly for peanuts that the rich have to go to great lengths to distinguish themselves from the hoi polloi. They don't always succeed. What good does it do to pay an exorbitant price for some item of luxury when virtually indistinguisheable (and functionally fully equivalent) knock-offs are available to the public for a tiny fraction of the price? Many just throw in the towel and are content to be distinguished merely by their freedom to do whatever they wish. Ironically, the very poor are also existentially free so the prince and the pauper can sometimes be truly indistinguisheable.

However, we need those who live expensively. After all, they pay for the labor of the fine craftsmen and highly skilled workers who could never make a living otherwise what with factories in China, Indonesia and Thailand mass producing quality goods cheaply. The rich have virtually an obligation to be patrons of arts and crafts. Besides, they need the uniqueness of their one-of-a-kind handcrafted possessions to certify their wealth. I depend on their conspicuous consumption to help keep the economy humming even as I carry on enjoying life of a casual billionaire in my second-hand made-in-China clothes.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/10/08 (#0212)  LOL


Laughter is the best medicine according to the old dictum. (Apples are good, too). Of course, science takes nothing for granted: statistical analysis of data collected over a long time confirms that, all other things being equal, people who laugh a lot tend live longer and and enjoy better health than people who laugh little or not at all. So there it is. A scientific fact.

Next question: so why aren't we all laughing? Ask any harried adult and they'll tell you life is no laughing matter. It's serious business. Stressful. Demanding. Dangerous. Even lethal - it is a well known and shocking fact that the mortality among the living is 100%.

Now, some stress is good for us. It keeps us in good shape and functioning well. In any case, to get anything done at all we can't avoid stressing ourselves at least to some minimal extent. Actually, without stress there could be no laughter because laughter is essentially spontaneous stress relief. We can't laugh all the time - we need to build up some stress first, and then, when pressure begins to be too much, laughter is our safety valve. (That's the principle behind a joke: the set up builds up the pressure, the punch line lets it out. The nice thing about jokes is that they let us practice laughter without having to undergo life's real stresses. And satire, which plays off the real life stresses, makes them more bearable.)

People who don't or can't laugh endanger their health - they lack the stress relief valve, and excessive stress is indeed lethal. The inability to laugh can be a product of a vicious circle: the less people laugh, the more stressed they become and consequently less able to laugh. It starts with taking one's life too seriously - perhaps as a matter of self-flattery, to make oneself feel important. In fact some people derive their sense of worth from how much they are stressed and actually cultivate a high level of stress to maintain their egos. Worse yet, these people impose their belief that stress equals worth on others around them - the slave driver boss from hell is a typical example. Beware of a workplace where laughter is not allowed!

Is life getting to be too much? Are you just barely hanging on? Are you worried about the future? Before you do anything else, have an apple and a good laugh. Then go and do what needs to be done - it will go better, believe me.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




03/08/08 (#0211)  Blessed are the weak


My body never could keep up with my mind and it's not because I am a mental giant. I rather think it has to do with a hormonal imbalance which results in below (way below) average levels of energy. Nevertheless, I am within what the medical science considers to be the "normal" range so there's nothing to be done about it. And I think I am finally getting used to it. I have quit kvetching about it and started appreciating the upside.

Yes, there is an upside. For one, my body has relatively little wear and tear on it since I haven't been using it as hard as the average joe - don't have the energy or strength for it. My cardiologist told me I have a young heart. Isn't that nice? Decidedly an upside. But wait, there's more.

Because my own potential for physical exertion is so limited, what people consider normal to me is wonderful. I am particularly appreciative of dancers of every kind - I am astonished and thoroughly enchanted by dancers. I can't even begin to imagine where they find the strength and the grace to do what they do and what they do I see as ranging from marvelous to miraculous. Because the difference between me and them is so vast, I am beyond even the faintest whisper of any inclination to envy them or to wish I could be like them. I am a fish, they are the birds. I am free to appreciate them wholeheartedly, an undiluted source of joy in my life.

The same goes for all feats of physical prowess - and I am not talking here olympic athletes (though I do adore them). Just regular people amaze me by what they can do in way of physical labor. I would never believe it if I did not see it with my own eyes. Again, no envy, just pure appreciation and wonder.

Artists, architects, actors, musicians, movie directors are god-like to me! Their works just blow my mind. That human beings can create works of such magnitude, scope and complexity is a source of never ceasing wonder to me. Engineers, scientists, corporate executives, and yes, presidential candidates and other monsters, politicians in general, and even used car salesmen all have my highest admiration. How hard they work! How much (for better or worse) they accomplish!

I could never appreciate others as much as I do if I were even merely mediocre in my capacity for work, let alone above average. I have noticed that people of above average abilities tend to be impatient with and unappreciative of those who are weaker or less able. And rightly so. But they have fewer oportunities than I to engage their sense of wonder - they have a much higher threshhold to overcome before wonder kicks in. I don't envy them.

Until Monday,

Paul W.



03/07/08 (#0210)  Two steps forward?


Granted, we must not underestimate the widespread ignorance, confused thinking and irrational beliefs that keep the world seething with chaotic activity. It may be that people who can think clearly about what is actually the case are a small minority - I don't have the statistics. Nevertheless, such people do exist and, I believe, in sufficient numbers to assure a bright future for the world. At least in the foreseeable term.

I also believe their number is increasing (as a percentage of population). I used to think that while a small number of individuals continues to build on what our predecessors achieved in way of understanding the world and ourselves, in general, humanity's understanding remains virtually static. But now, thanks mainly to the Web, we are actually becoming better informed and maybe even smarter. And this may be happening faster than we think.

Knowledge is power. Information is not. Information overload can actually make us stupid ("knowing" too much for our own good). However we are beginning to be served with information in an organized, useable form, relatively easily convertible into genuine knowledge. Only deliberate refusal can keep us now from learning.

As I observe the current electoral frenzy in my adopted country I can't help but be optimistic. The two Democratic contenders for the office of the president did not emerge by pure chance: they reflect the current state of the American society. And the fact is that, whatever may be said of either one, either one is a more solid choice than we've had in a long time. (Solid would also be the right term for the Republican candidate). It is said that people always get a government they deserve. It seems we have become more deserving in course of the last decade. Certainly the level of public discourse seems to be higher than usual as well as more intense. This may be in part due to the residual sexism and racism being fully engaged but I think the Web has been a significant factor.

Of course, the economic downturn also helped. Nothing like hard times to focus one's mind. Between our enhanced willingness to think and our electronically amplified capacity for thought and discourse I think we may have a chance.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/06/08 (#0209)  Contemporary minstrelsy


Wandering minstrels have been with us since the pre-Homeric times. Recently (in historical terms) their function has been radically amplified. This has had, as might be expected, radical effects on both the minstrels and the public.

As late as the early 20th century, the wandering minstrel was not so different from those of the ancient days. Accompaniment, if any, was provided by some portable instrument like a lute, guitar, small harp, zither or a hurdy-gurdy. The audience was small and intimate, the reward was some coins or food and a place to crash. Possibilities for fame and celebrity were limited to singing at the courts of the nobility (or the equivalent) and maybe having one's music published (by hand copying and later by printing).

Then came the phonograph and the radio, and soon after the TV, CD, MP3, and the i-Pod. At the same time the car, the plane and the Web globalized minstrelsy. Monstrous audio systems made mass concerts possible. Electronic instruments placed the entire universe of sound at the minstrel's disposal. It's a colossal leap from the blind Homer and his lyre to Amy Winehouse and her band, yet it only just happened, within the last few decades of the history of minstrelsy. 

Both the minstrels of old and our contemporary ones embrace the life of a minstrel despite all the discomfort and hardship it entails because it is far more intense and vivid and interesting than the life of the common folk. Except that now, amplified by many orders of magnitude, this life can be inhumanly intense and demanding. Likewise its satisfactions and rewards can be more than a mere human can deal with. Yet, intensity freaks that we are, we never have enough, and we don't know where to stop. Contemporary minstrels who achieve fame and celebrity tend to die young though there are a few who are gifted with a toughness and vigor and wisdom (and luck) necessary to survive the amplification and perhaps even thrive.

As for the public, the shift in numbers from a few to many millions makes the influence of the music potentially vastly greater. However, this is diluted by the instant availability of a mind-boggling quantity and quality of music. The marketplace of music is now beyond human capacity for direct evaluation. Concerts and radio play have become chief promotional events. Otherwise, our choices of music are indirectly guided by celebrity, advertising, and such reviews as may come to our attention.

Nevertheless, we still have with us vestigial remains of the minstrels of old. Every would-be minstrel on his/her way to fame and celebrity, unless born already famous, must pass through the initiation of building an audience and recognition. During that process he or she is operating very much like the ancient minstrels did. But with the Web providing instant world-wide stage for any one who cares to post a video of their performance, for a gifted minstrel with an appealing message this process can be awfully brief - like minutes. Then it's on to Big Time.

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.



03/05/08 (#0208) Consciousness, human and nonhuman


Consciousness. Experience. Sensation. Observation. Event/happening. These five words are essentially synonymous and interchangeable. To keep things manageable I will use just one of them, "consciousness", with the understanding that any one of the five can be substituted for "consciousness" without changing anything. In fact, I encourage you to do just that - it helps to eliminate confusion that arises when these terms are assumed to have different meanings.

Complex consciousness, like all "physical" phenomena, is quantized, that is, it's built up from elementary "particles" or quanta of consciousness which cannot be further subdivided. (A quantum of consciousness is the consciousness involved in an elementary observation or event). I won't speculate here further about the nature of a quantum of consciousness or its properties. The point of this dissertation is that higher forms of consciousness may be built up from these elementary quanta just as complicated chunks of matter such as apples, cell phones, or human beings are built up from elementary particles. In fact, elementary particles are themselves creatures of consciousness so the degree of consciousness in material things naturally increases with their complexity.

Somewhere on the spectrum of consciousness, from the lowest to the highest, that is, from its most elementary forms to the most complex, there is a stretch corresponding to the range of human consciousness. The question before us is, where does "human consciousness" begin and where does it end?

We can easily tell that an apple is not at the level of human consciousness. Cell phone, even with a camera, e-mail and satelite guidance, clearly isn't either. A dog does have something resembling human consciousness, but it is not likely to be mistaken for a human. A chimpanzee comes even closer - it appears to have consciousness of a three year old human. On the other hand, some brain damaged or undeveloped humans have less consciousness than a chimpanzee. So where does true "human" consciousness begin? The question is important because we treat humans radically differently from the way we treat animals. Killing a chimpanzee is not murder, but killing a human baby is because the baby has the potential of becoming fully human even if it isn't yet. But is a baby's life more or less valuable than that of a fully grown human being? One hesitates to quantify such things - it's weighing hope against actuality.

Our consciousness usually diminishes with age, and rather early in life, too. Not because of disease or decay but because of automatism and habit, because of narrowing and dulling of attention. We tend to become less human as we grow up. If we live long enough, the decay of old age robs us further of humanity, diminishing consciousness. We can be also driven insane by pain and deprivation, whether accidentally or deliberately, to the point where our perception and judgement are reduced to subhuman levels. We can be dehumanized, reduced back to animal status. Our complex brains which support our human consciousness are fragile and easily damaged or destroyed. There are many people walking this earth whose humanity can be reasonably called into question.

Another time I shall consider the other end of the spectrum of human consciousness. Is it open-ended? Or are we on the verge of becoming something too different to be still called human?

Until tomorrow,

Paul W.




03/04/08 (#0207)  Beauty weds joy