Though given the opportunity, I'm going to try to avoid ranting here, but it may be difficult. What really drives me crazy in the literature I read, particularly Heart of Darkness, is how much people care about everything, and in a shallow way: themselves, their circumstances, their money, their food, their comfort, their image, everything!
Particularly the character of the Manager is illustrative of this caring. He's so obsessed with the way the Company is seen and the way he is seen and how easy or difficult everything is, that he has absolutely no understanding of anything going on around him. He's so focused on the tiny little details of his life that he can't step back for clarity. It's like looking at a Renoir painting from an inch away; all you'll see is the blurry brush strokes, not the beautiful masterpiece it is from afar.
There is an issue when you can only see the big picture and none of the aspects which make up the whole, and in a way, this is very superficial. But this obsession with details is even more superficial, even though one would think it would be deeper.
The reason this rubs me the wrong way is that I have lately been trying to open my eyes to the bigger picture of my life, trying to "go with the flow", so to speak. With college-thinking and AP exams and sports all coming up on me at once, I'd go crazy if I tried to keep a view of all those little things in depth. I self-evaluate and ask myself, "does this really matter to my future? Will my life be worse because I couldn't accomplish this?" And the answer is usually no.
So the basis of my issue with over-caring stems from the fact that I could manage it and these people, like the Manager, don't even try. I know it's necessary to have some character dynamics; otherwise, the book would be flat. There's no way all the key players can have a perfect insight into their life. But I find it unbearably frustrating to be forced to experience this narrow-mindedness along with the character, and feel powerless as they get caught up in all the little details that you, as a reader, know don't matter.
I guess I'll just have to deal with this because I know that it adds something to the story, though it may drive my crazy. I have to face the fact that the book wasn't written to my taste; I have to trust the author to resolve this issue before the conclusion of the novel. I just have to go with the flow.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Connection: Heart of Darkness and Avatar
There's been a lot of talk in the media lately about James Cameron's mindblowingly expensive 3D film, Avatar. And why shouldn't there be? It was a movie I loved, as did everyone I know, despite having a slightly cliche storyline. Those floating mountains just blew me away. But the reason the storyline was a little weak (besides that fact that it mimicked the cartoon Fern Gully) was that we'd all heard it before. It was telling a story that has reoccurred throughout history, one of imperialism.
There was Hernan Cortes with the Aztecs in the early 1500s, the Dutch with the Khoi Khoi people in the 1650s, the British empire with basically the entire world from the 1600s-1900s, the Afrikaners in South Africa in the late 1860s, and the list goes on and on. Worldly minded people expanding their influence outward throughout the world to bring in commodities, labor, and revenue, at the expense of anyone who got in their way.
In Avatar, a business-minded man with no regard for anything but boosting his profits inhabits the planet Pandora in search of a rare and valuable ore. And along the way, he massacres and attempts to destroy the hometree of the Na'vi people. This is the exact theme told by Charlie Marlow in Heart of Darkness, only this time it's the Belgian King Leolpold II in search of ivory in the Congo Free State, wiping out Africans along his path.
This very familiar theme of losing all morality in the face of money is a strong characteristic of imperialistic occupation, which sheds light on the possibility that imperialism might not be gone from the world. When James Cameron made this movie, he brought the history of this sometimes dark occurrence back to the forefront of our minds. And the worrying fact remains: if imperialism were to come back into "fashion" in our world, it might not all end as well as it did for the Na'vi.
There was Hernan Cortes with the Aztecs in the early 1500s, the Dutch with the Khoi Khoi people in the 1650s, the British empire with basically the entire world from the 1600s-1900s, the Afrikaners in South Africa in the late 1860s, and the list goes on and on. Worldly minded people expanding their influence outward throughout the world to bring in commodities, labor, and revenue, at the expense of anyone who got in their way.
In Avatar, a business-minded man with no regard for anything but boosting his profits inhabits the planet Pandora in search of a rare and valuable ore. And along the way, he massacres and attempts to destroy the hometree of the Na'vi people. This is the exact theme told by Charlie Marlow in Heart of Darkness, only this time it's the Belgian King Leolpold II in search of ivory in the Congo Free State, wiping out Africans along his path.
This very familiar theme of losing all morality in the face of money is a strong characteristic of imperialistic occupation, which sheds light on the possibility that imperialism might not be gone from the world. When James Cameron made this movie, he brought the history of this sometimes dark occurrence back to the forefront of our minds. And the worrying fact remains: if imperialism were to come back into "fashion" in our world, it might not all end as well as it did for the Na'vi.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Metacognition: First Semester English
The first semester of my sophomore year has been a busier one than ever, what with my schoolwork and extra-curriculars weighing down on my ability to function and cutting into my prefered amount of sleep. It has also caused me to carve out some methods in order to be more efficient in my thinking and learning, especially in english class, which has been more of a help to my academics than I ever could have hoped for.
This way of thinking involves learning how to spread out my attention on a single task over several hours or days or weeks, whichever is the most productive. Last year, I had the issue of reverse-procrastination. I felt the need to finish everything the instant I got it and often stayed up much later than necessary in order to ensure that it got done as soon as possible. This was the biggest problem in english, where I had long essays which were meant to be a collaboration of many days of thinking.
This year, I've come to the realization that I'm not expected to do anyting of this sort, not even by the teachers who assign the work. It turns out, I do my best writing when I come back to my work a day later to bring in "fresh eyes" and a more critical mind. My method is more efficient when spread over a week or more. So I started the year with a new attitude which has developed over the course of the semester into the best possible version of itself. I maintain an element of "hyper-efficient productivity", but not so much that it inhibits me from participating in cross country, orchestra, speech team, or other activities I have passion for. In fact, I was surprised at how easily this change came to me, and therefore I was confused about why I hadn't figured this all out last year and saved myself some sleep.
I generally like the way I work; after all, it is the way I've been doing things for my entire academic career. It's tailor-made to my learning style and speed of thought. But I know there is still more that can be done to aid my work ethic, like learning to study more in one sitting, thus lengthening my attention span. I can also try to fix my propensity to zone out in class during discussions of literature, which I've found myself falling into more and more this semester. in increasing amounts, I'm learning things about myself and my personality that I would have immediately passed off in an inability to change and adapt last year. And that in itself is a clear academic achievement.
This way of thinking involves learning how to spread out my attention on a single task over several hours or days or weeks, whichever is the most productive. Last year, I had the issue of reverse-procrastination. I felt the need to finish everything the instant I got it and often stayed up much later than necessary in order to ensure that it got done as soon as possible. This was the biggest problem in english, where I had long essays which were meant to be a collaboration of many days of thinking.
This year, I've come to the realization that I'm not expected to do anyting of this sort, not even by the teachers who assign the work. It turns out, I do my best writing when I come back to my work a day later to bring in "fresh eyes" and a more critical mind. My method is more efficient when spread over a week or more. So I started the year with a new attitude which has developed over the course of the semester into the best possible version of itself. I maintain an element of "hyper-efficient productivity", but not so much that it inhibits me from participating in cross country, orchestra, speech team, or other activities I have passion for. In fact, I was surprised at how easily this change came to me, and therefore I was confused about why I hadn't figured this all out last year and saved myself some sleep.
I generally like the way I work; after all, it is the way I've been doing things for my entire academic career. It's tailor-made to my learning style and speed of thought. But I know there is still more that can be done to aid my work ethic, like learning to study more in one sitting, thus lengthening my attention span. I can also try to fix my propensity to zone out in class during discussions of literature, which I've found myself falling into more and more this semester. in increasing amounts, I'm learning things about myself and my personality that I would have immediately passed off in an inability to change and adapt last year. And that in itself is a clear academic achievement.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Blogging Around
This is in responde to Mary's blog post about the loss of simplicity in modern music, and references Jerry Lee Lewis's "Great Balls of Fire" as an example of the older, better aproach.
You've really nailed it on the head here, Mary. Besides the fact that I love this song, I absolutely agree with your observation about the loss of simplicity in music today. I think that's why I'm so fond of artists like Jack Johnson, who often sing plainly with just a guitar in hand. I mean, half the time I listen to music, I zone out and let the instrumentals bring me to some place in my head. I do some of my best thinking to the soundtrack of Prokofieff's concerto for cello, which is very complex, but mostly contained in a lone cello with little orchestra involvement. I mean simplicity is beautiful in music, and it's a sign of our obsession as a society with always being productive that we can't stop outselves from shoving five minutes of singing into a three minute song. If you look at classic songs from the 30s, 40s, and 50s, you'll rarely find one more than three minutes long. Nowadays, the standard has risen to about six minutes. We need a musical reality check!
This is in response to Chen's post about the rock version of Pachelbell's Canon in D, which emphasizes changes in music over time.
Haha I LOVE this video. I have ever since I saw it a few years ago, back when it was a youtube sensation. I don't know if you'll know this, but after this video came out, some record company or other decided they wanted to sign this talented kid, so they ceaselessly searched for him. I mean, as you'll notice, he doesn't show his face. I'm not sure if they ever found him, but I found it interesting. Anyway, this song is really a cool interpretation of a classic song. I'm not even sure why it's considered Christmas music. Some people use it for their wedding. But yeah, interpreting songs that have been done in one way for a really long time is just as original and difficult as writing the song yourself. It may even be harder to do...
You've really nailed it on the head here, Mary. Besides the fact that I love this song, I absolutely agree with your observation about the loss of simplicity in music today. I think that's why I'm so fond of artists like Jack Johnson, who often sing plainly with just a guitar in hand. I mean, half the time I listen to music, I zone out and let the instrumentals bring me to some place in my head. I do some of my best thinking to the soundtrack of Prokofieff's concerto for cello, which is very complex, but mostly contained in a lone cello with little orchestra involvement. I mean simplicity is beautiful in music, and it's a sign of our obsession as a society with always being productive that we can't stop outselves from shoving five minutes of singing into a three minute song. If you look at classic songs from the 30s, 40s, and 50s, you'll rarely find one more than three minutes long. Nowadays, the standard has risen to about six minutes. We need a musical reality check!
This is in response to Chen's post about the rock version of Pachelbell's Canon in D, which emphasizes changes in music over time.
Haha I LOVE this video. I have ever since I saw it a few years ago, back when it was a youtube sensation. I don't know if you'll know this, but after this video came out, some record company or other decided they wanted to sign this talented kid, so they ceaselessly searched for him. I mean, as you'll notice, he doesn't show his face. I'm not sure if they ever found him, but I found it interesting. Anyway, this song is really a cool interpretation of a classic song. I'm not even sure why it's considered Christmas music. Some people use it for their wedding. But yeah, interpreting songs that have been done in one way for a really long time is just as original and difficult as writing the song yourself. It may even be harder to do...
Saturday, November 14, 2009
iMedia: Levi's Commercials
I first saw the "America" Levi's commercial from the Go Forth campaign in a movie theater during the previews. I was slightly dumbstruck by the complete change in their approach to advertising. The usual Levi's jeans commercial consisted of gorgeous models wearing little to no clothing besides their signiture 501s, often integrating some sexual appeal, mythological theme, or a combination thereof. Basically, I would classify them as gratuitous. But this new one was amazing; you need only watch it to see that their sophistication and creativity level shot skyward at an impossible rate. It was artistic; historically relevant, yet refreshingly modern; frightening, yet optimistic. In short, something I'd never seen before from a company as commercial as Levi's.
I think "America" and "O Pioneers!" inform our culture of the relevance of recent history and the power of the individual versus the whole nation. I mean, where else would the public, so engrossed by their XBOXs and iPhones, hear Walt Whitman (who happens to be one of my favorite poets; I've had an excerpt of his writing on my facebook page for over a year) in a reading of some of his classic works? This ad exposes themes of rebellion and strength similar to that of the 1960s and the Vietnam war, while also keeping their message culturally relevant. Instead of implying that wearing their jeans will make you a supermodel and irresistible to the opposite sex, it emphasizes that Levi's has been there throughout history, witnessed it, and stayed strong. After all, the company has been around since 1853. I see the commercial as implying unity in the face of adversity while forcing us to see the mindnumbing change in our culture and outlook on the world since the last major crisis. Frankly, it's impossible not to see, what with their use of an image of an interracial couple, for example. The ad campaign is a striking sort of duality: eerie, haunting, intelligent, and most importantly, effective.
What struck me instantaneously upon viewing it, however, was not all of that. That came after, as I really thought through what I had just seen. My immediate reaction was how unbelievably cool the video was. The masterful artistry of the black and white scenes, the color scenes, the lighting and outdoor setting, the historical photography and the modern actors, the scratchy recording of classic American poetry, it all overwhelmed me. I left feeling confused that the commercial was even trying to sell me something, and therefore, more interested in the campaign as a whole. Something just worked through the ad; it was that ellusive je ne sais quoi. And to be honest, it left me, and many others, wanting more.
"America": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdW1CjbCNxw
"O Pioneers!": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HG8tqEUTlvs&feature=related
I think "America" and "O Pioneers!" inform our culture of the relevance of recent history and the power of the individual versus the whole nation. I mean, where else would the public, so engrossed by their XBOXs and iPhones, hear Walt Whitman (who happens to be one of my favorite poets; I've had an excerpt of his writing on my facebook page for over a year) in a reading of some of his classic works? This ad exposes themes of rebellion and strength similar to that of the 1960s and the Vietnam war, while also keeping their message culturally relevant. Instead of implying that wearing their jeans will make you a supermodel and irresistible to the opposite sex, it emphasizes that Levi's has been there throughout history, witnessed it, and stayed strong. After all, the company has been around since 1853. I see the commercial as implying unity in the face of adversity while forcing us to see the mindnumbing change in our culture and outlook on the world since the last major crisis. Frankly, it's impossible not to see, what with their use of an image of an interracial couple, for example. The ad campaign is a striking sort of duality: eerie, haunting, intelligent, and most importantly, effective.
What struck me instantaneously upon viewing it, however, was not all of that. That came after, as I really thought through what I had just seen. My immediate reaction was how unbelievably cool the video was. The masterful artistry of the black and white scenes, the color scenes, the lighting and outdoor setting, the historical photography and the modern actors, the scratchy recording of classic American poetry, it all overwhelmed me. I left feeling confused that the commercial was even trying to sell me something, and therefore, more interested in the campaign as a whole. Something just worked through the ad; it was that ellusive je ne sais quoi. And to be honest, it left me, and many others, wanting more.
"America": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdW1CjbCNxw
"O Pioneers!": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HG8tqEUTlvs&feature=related
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Connections: Medieval Thinkers and Religious Extremists
Life is a balance of the forces around you, forces that are black and white and every shade of gray. Most thoughts and ideas fall somewhere in the middle, but not always. In my opinion, those that are a lovely and pure gray are ideal; they're not too extreme, not too conservative. I know some people would be cringing at that assertion, shouting that I don't believe in anything enough to support it with wholehearted commitment to a cause. This leads into the somewhat surprising struggle between the extremes and the middle.
The premise of King Lear is filled with power struggles and idea clashing between the Renaissance thinkers and the Medieval thinkers. King Lear, the person with most of the power according to the state, is bent on tradition and stability, keeping with the way things have always been done. He is very medieval in his ways. His opposition comes from those that disagree, namely his older daughters, Goneril and Regan. They are clearly Renaissance thinkers, and also quite Machiavellian in nature. Despite their selfish actions, they represent the middle shade of gray in this argument. Renaissance thoughts centralize around individualism and scientific discovery. During their time, this was considered very extreme. But in our society, Renaissance thinkers are more common and popular. In my opinion, this is the best way option.
Similarly, on the news we often hear about religious extremists causing trouble and terror around the globe. Their name says it all: they're extreme. They believe in only the fundamental guidelines of their religion and leave no room for progressive thoughts and actions. The people who tend to be in the middle religiously are the people I'm surrounded by everyday in my community. The suburbs are not where one would expect to find a terrorist hiding out. We collectively represent the "middle", ranging from religiously indifferent to very observant.
The reason for the religious distinction is an inability to agree between the extremists and the middle. This is the exact same as in King Lear, where the extreme Medievalists are dead set against the middle Renaissance thinkers. The significance of this connection is the unusual nature of it. Normally, the opposite extremes hate each other, or at least argue and fight. It's not often that an extremist in something is offended by another person's neutrality. But this is illustrated in Shakespeare's world and our modern world. Both concepts are alike in the fact that they're a bit unexpected, and thus important to keep an eye out for.
The premise of King Lear is filled with power struggles and idea clashing between the Renaissance thinkers and the Medieval thinkers. King Lear, the person with most of the power according to the state, is bent on tradition and stability, keeping with the way things have always been done. He is very medieval in his ways. His opposition comes from those that disagree, namely his older daughters, Goneril and Regan. They are clearly Renaissance thinkers, and also quite Machiavellian in nature. Despite their selfish actions, they represent the middle shade of gray in this argument. Renaissance thoughts centralize around individualism and scientific discovery. During their time, this was considered very extreme. But in our society, Renaissance thinkers are more common and popular. In my opinion, this is the best way option.
Similarly, on the news we often hear about religious extremists causing trouble and terror around the globe. Their name says it all: they're extreme. They believe in only the fundamental guidelines of their religion and leave no room for progressive thoughts and actions. The people who tend to be in the middle religiously are the people I'm surrounded by everyday in my community. The suburbs are not where one would expect to find a terrorist hiding out. We collectively represent the "middle", ranging from religiously indifferent to very observant.
The reason for the religious distinction is an inability to agree between the extremists and the middle. This is the exact same as in King Lear, where the extreme Medievalists are dead set against the middle Renaissance thinkers. The significance of this connection is the unusual nature of it. Normally, the opposite extremes hate each other, or at least argue and fight. It's not often that an extremist in something is offended by another person's neutrality. But this is illustrated in Shakespeare's world and our modern world. Both concepts are alike in the fact that they're a bit unexpected, and thus important to keep an eye out for.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Dialectics: War and Creation
In the Broadway musical Rent, one of the characters, Marc, says "the opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation." Despite being housed in the middle of a somewhat cliché rebellion song, which consists of dancing on tabletops at a restaurant and singing about "sticking it to the man", this line exhibits insight beyond its surroundings.
So what is the reason for this divergence from the classical duality of "war and peace"? In theory, war is the definitive opposite of peace. One is violent and ruthless, the other is cooperative and prosperous. However, I think the reason for this lyric and everything it implies is that theory is not always the absolute authority. Something can be perfect in theory, but if it doesn't translate to actuality, then it's meaningless. In my opinion, war can be driven by the pursuit of peace, and I think it often is. Even when war is retalliation for an act against a country, for example, the base beliefs are that one party would bring peace if they were in power and perfect circumstances were set up.
This new idea of "war and creation" being opposites makes a lot of sense. Creation is never the direct goal of war; often, it's an indirect one. For example, if the Arab nations can destroy the Israeli state, then they can create their own Islamic "empire". War leads to destruction, then possibly creation. But never just creation.
So is there a possibility of a dialectical "third option", one which unites these very different concepts? I'm not sure if war can ever lead directly to creation without destroying first; it also depends on your definition of both destruction and creation. Does it have to be something you can see, feel, or touch? In the future, when our wars have become electronic like so much else in our society, will an attack on a database count as destruction? Or is everything technological just a series of electrical signals which are never destroyed, just rearranged? In the same way, would an addition to the internet really be created? How do you sense what is not within our capabilities of perception to feel?
Perhaps this unity of war and creation would be the exact equation for peace and prosperity, the ever-elusive utopia. If there was a way to wage war without destroying, just bringing about the creation of newer, better, and stronger institutions and people, then war would lose its bite, its horror. And this leads to the final question: is this possible in actuality, or is it just another theory?
So what is the reason for this divergence from the classical duality of "war and peace"? In theory, war is the definitive opposite of peace. One is violent and ruthless, the other is cooperative and prosperous. However, I think the reason for this lyric and everything it implies is that theory is not always the absolute authority. Something can be perfect in theory, but if it doesn't translate to actuality, then it's meaningless. In my opinion, war can be driven by the pursuit of peace, and I think it often is. Even when war is retalliation for an act against a country, for example, the base beliefs are that one party would bring peace if they were in power and perfect circumstances were set up.
This new idea of "war and creation" being opposites makes a lot of sense. Creation is never the direct goal of war; often, it's an indirect one. For example, if the Arab nations can destroy the Israeli state, then they can create their own Islamic "empire". War leads to destruction, then possibly creation. But never just creation.
So is there a possibility of a dialectical "third option", one which unites these very different concepts? I'm not sure if war can ever lead directly to creation without destroying first; it also depends on your definition of both destruction and creation. Does it have to be something you can see, feel, or touch? In the future, when our wars have become electronic like so much else in our society, will an attack on a database count as destruction? Or is everything technological just a series of electrical signals which are never destroyed, just rearranged? In the same way, would an addition to the internet really be created? How do you sense what is not within our capabilities of perception to feel?
Perhaps this unity of war and creation would be the exact equation for peace and prosperity, the ever-elusive utopia. If there was a way to wage war without destroying, just bringing about the creation of newer, better, and stronger institutions and people, then war would lose its bite, its horror. And this leads to the final question: is this possible in actuality, or is it just another theory?
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