Context
I have a large amount of t-shirts. Since this is a wearable collection, I rotate them on a regular basis and usually wear whatever comes to the top of the pile. Today's selection was a shirt depicting Suicide Squid, the mascot for an old Usenet group named rec.arts.comics. You can find a picture of the shirt in question, plus a faux description of the character, here.
Commentary
Over the years I've become more aware of the sensitivities of others, so I've discarded some of my t-shirts that, while funny, could also be construed as insulting. Therefore, when I looked at the Suicide Squid this morning, with its depiction of seven methods of self-annihilation (It would be eight, but one of his tentacles is holding a knife while slitting the wrist[?] of another.), I thought about whether he should join his departed friends. After all, I can hear the reaction in my mind: "Suicide isn't funny!"
Actually, that's wrong. Anything, viewed from the proper perspective, is funny. In my opinion, you only have to look at a picture of an octopus sticking a knife in a toaster (C'mon, have you clicked on the link up in the Context yet?) to know that. Furthermore, although I take the pain that precedes a suicide attempt very seriously, I think poking some fun at the act itself might be beneficial.
It seems to me that one of the reasons some vulnerable populations like teenagers consider suicide is because it is serious. They think, "This, finally, is the thing that will make me worthy of people's attention." The movie Heathers, which takes on the unenviable task of making both suicide and homicide funny, shows this in a scene where a high school loser gets excoriated for trying to commit suicide, an activity which is apparently reserved for the cool kids.
Even Freddy Mercury took his potshots at the "that'll show 'em" aspect of suicide. He wrote a song for Queen that seemed like an effective deterrent to me when I was a teenager because it said this in a jaunty uptempo rhythm:
Don't try suicide; nobody's worth it.
Don't try suicide; nobody cares.
Don't try suicide; you're just gonna hate it.
Don't try suicide; nobody gives a damn!
In the end, that's why we make fun of dark subjects; it takes away a little bit of their power, their mystique. If wearing a t-shirt with a squid reading Kafka in order to off himself (Seriously, go look at the link!) reduces the allure of suicide even a little bit, my work is done.
What did you see today?
10/27/2012
10/26/2012
I saw a story about a touching gesture
Context
I was looking over the New Items List on my library's catalog when I found Eric LeGrand's Believe: my faith and the tackle that changed my life. LeGrand is paralyzed as the result of an injury he sustained while playing football for Rutgers University. The summary of the book mentions that earlier this year, LeGrand was signed to the roster of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers largely due to the efforts of the former Rutgers and current Tampa Bay coach, Greg Schiano.
Commentary
Up until today I would have told you I didn't like Greg Schiano. Earlier in the season, his first in the NFL, he told his players to knock down Eli Manning when the Giants went into what's called "the victory formation," ten guys huddled around the quarterback as he kneels on the ball in the closing seconds of a game. A very unflattering description of Schiano and the league-wide reaction to this legal, but not very sportsmanlike gesture can be found here. So it was very surprising to me to read about about this same man who many consider to be a classless bully deciding to extend the benefits of a NFL career, albeit briefly, to a guy who was never really going to have one.
There are 32 teams in the NFL. Because I was born in Michigan, I always root for the Lions and against whoever they're playing. However, that leaves 15 other games on most weeks that I want to choose a favorite in. Most of the times I make my choices pretty arbitrarily, focusing on one characteristic, good or bad, of the teams in question: Jay Cutler is whiny, Peyton Manning is brilliant, that sort of thing. So I had written off the Buccaneers because they had this badly behaved coach. It seemed like harmless fun to me, since I have no impact on Greg Schiano's actual life. It was just an opportunity for me to set up a straw man and knock him down, nothing to do with real life.
But what do I do with my newfound knowledge about Schiano, that he is in fact a normal human being who is capable of both great gestures and boneheaded ones? Should I now be rooting for the Buccaneers? Should I alternate weeks believing Schiano is a hero and a villain? Or should I just give up my love of quick and easy judgments, even about things that don't really matter? If I say "I don't know," I've kind of already made up my mind, haven't I?
What did you see today?
I was looking over the New Items List on my library's catalog when I found Eric LeGrand's Believe: my faith and the tackle that changed my life. LeGrand is paralyzed as the result of an injury he sustained while playing football for Rutgers University. The summary of the book mentions that earlier this year, LeGrand was signed to the roster of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers largely due to the efforts of the former Rutgers and current Tampa Bay coach, Greg Schiano.
Commentary
Up until today I would have told you I didn't like Greg Schiano. Earlier in the season, his first in the NFL, he told his players to knock down Eli Manning when the Giants went into what's called "the victory formation," ten guys huddled around the quarterback as he kneels on the ball in the closing seconds of a game. A very unflattering description of Schiano and the league-wide reaction to this legal, but not very sportsmanlike gesture can be found here. So it was very surprising to me to read about about this same man who many consider to be a classless bully deciding to extend the benefits of a NFL career, albeit briefly, to a guy who was never really going to have one.
There are 32 teams in the NFL. Because I was born in Michigan, I always root for the Lions and against whoever they're playing. However, that leaves 15 other games on most weeks that I want to choose a favorite in. Most of the times I make my choices pretty arbitrarily, focusing on one characteristic, good or bad, of the teams in question: Jay Cutler is whiny, Peyton Manning is brilliant, that sort of thing. So I had written off the Buccaneers because they had this badly behaved coach. It seemed like harmless fun to me, since I have no impact on Greg Schiano's actual life. It was just an opportunity for me to set up a straw man and knock him down, nothing to do with real life.
But what do I do with my newfound knowledge about Schiano, that he is in fact a normal human being who is capable of both great gestures and boneheaded ones? Should I now be rooting for the Buccaneers? Should I alternate weeks believing Schiano is a hero and a villain? Or should I just give up my love of quick and easy judgments, even about things that don't really matter? If I say "I don't know," I've kind of already made up my mind, haven't I?
What did you see today?
10/14/2012
I saw a description of negotiations
Context
I'm reading The Social Life of Information by John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid. This book contends that the belief that more information, especially in the form of the internet, will somehow solve all our problems is at least premature, if not hopelessly naive. I've just finished a section where the authors talk about the intricacies of negotiation, pointing out that human beings makes thousands of implicit negotiations every day, and that we only resort to rule-based decision making, the kind computers are really good at, when those fail. As an example, they point out that committees often have to make rules about how to communicate, like who can talk for how long, but groups of friends usually do not.
Commentary
The idea of rule-based decision making and negotiation got me to thinking about the rule of law. Patriotism is a challenging concept for me. I like being an American because I think we have a kick-ass constitution, not because of any loyalty to a geographic or cultural entity. Does the U.S. even have a culture? Our embrace of multiculturalism maybe, but I digress. Anyway, I like the rule of law in this country.
On the other hand, I'm a Quaker, and as a matter of practice, we abjure some of the things the Constitution prescribes. For example, Quakers don't vote when doing church business. In my experience, Quakers vote like mad in the national elections, but that's a separate issue. Anyway, in our meetings for worship with attention to business (We're a simple people, but we like the names of things to be painfully precise.), we make decisions by "sense of the meeting." This means we work together until we find an answer that resonates with everyone participating in the process, rather than voting, which produces winners and losers.
If you ask a dozen Quakers why we do things this way, there's a good chance you'll get at least ten different answers. Christian Quakers often believe that a collective answer is more likely to reflect the will of God. In my case, I specifically hark back to the wrong turn the children of Israel made when they told God they no longer wanted their disputes settled and armies led by the itinerant judges He raised up among them. They wanted a permanent hereditary king, like all the other cool nations had. The extra level of remove from the Lord did not work out well for them.
Quakers who are not explicitly Christian sometimes still invoke the mystical aspect of collective decision-making, even if the mystery is not attributed to a particular deity. Even non-Quakers sometimes adopt the "sense of the meeting" language to their secular business dealings, in the belief that consensus (or in the case of the International Monetary Fund pretending to have consensus) serves better than conflict when expecting people to work together.
So I like the rule of law, but I avoid using it whenever I can. Brown and Duguid point out computers can't manage the slight change-of-course negotiations people navigate with ease because these depend on shared values and trust, which machines can neither create nor maintain. And there's the rub: the moment we turn to the rule of law, which is the set "If you cross this line, these consequences will happen," way of looking at the world, we give up human connection in order to take a chance on "being right." Which one is really more valuable?
What did you see today?
I'm reading The Social Life of Information by John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid. This book contends that the belief that more information, especially in the form of the internet, will somehow solve all our problems is at least premature, if not hopelessly naive. I've just finished a section where the authors talk about the intricacies of negotiation, pointing out that human beings makes thousands of implicit negotiations every day, and that we only resort to rule-based decision making, the kind computers are really good at, when those fail. As an example, they point out that committees often have to make rules about how to communicate, like who can talk for how long, but groups of friends usually do not.
Commentary
The idea of rule-based decision making and negotiation got me to thinking about the rule of law. Patriotism is a challenging concept for me. I like being an American because I think we have a kick-ass constitution, not because of any loyalty to a geographic or cultural entity. Does the U.S. even have a culture? Our embrace of multiculturalism maybe, but I digress. Anyway, I like the rule of law in this country.
On the other hand, I'm a Quaker, and as a matter of practice, we abjure some of the things the Constitution prescribes. For example, Quakers don't vote when doing church business. In my experience, Quakers vote like mad in the national elections, but that's a separate issue. Anyway, in our meetings for worship with attention to business (We're a simple people, but we like the names of things to be painfully precise.), we make decisions by "sense of the meeting." This means we work together until we find an answer that resonates with everyone participating in the process, rather than voting, which produces winners and losers.
If you ask a dozen Quakers why we do things this way, there's a good chance you'll get at least ten different answers. Christian Quakers often believe that a collective answer is more likely to reflect the will of God. In my case, I specifically hark back to the wrong turn the children of Israel made when they told God they no longer wanted their disputes settled and armies led by the itinerant judges He raised up among them. They wanted a permanent hereditary king, like all the other cool nations had. The extra level of remove from the Lord did not work out well for them.
Quakers who are not explicitly Christian sometimes still invoke the mystical aspect of collective decision-making, even if the mystery is not attributed to a particular deity. Even non-Quakers sometimes adopt the "sense of the meeting" language to their secular business dealings, in the belief that consensus (or in the case of the International Monetary Fund pretending to have consensus) serves better than conflict when expecting people to work together.
So I like the rule of law, but I avoid using it whenever I can. Brown and Duguid point out computers can't manage the slight change-of-course negotiations people navigate with ease because these depend on shared values and trust, which machines can neither create nor maintain. And there's the rub: the moment we turn to the rule of law, which is the set "If you cross this line, these consequences will happen," way of looking at the world, we give up human connection in order to take a chance on "being right." Which one is really more valuable?
What did you see today?
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