Filed under: Earth, and everything in it....
I know I said a few months ago that I didn’t think SocialCaterpillar would service as much of a function now that I’m away at school, since it seems that the scene here is a little more homogenous…perhaps I should have given myself a little more time to make that judgment! In fact, my feelings toward the relationships between people, and my place among them, are all the more salient now, perhaps due to that very homogeneity, which seems to draw out the contrasts between people. While this won’t be a long and exploratory post, I feel that it is only with brevity and simplicity that I can express the sense I currently feel.
In the past 24 hours I have had a number of conversations (one or two in particular) which seemed to have all pivoted around the same set of ideas, while all taking place among a diverse spectrum of friends. In fact, it is inaccurate to label of these experiences conversations, because it has often been the case that it was what was not spoken that connected the two events. To illustrate:
A friend and I were conversing last night, when the topic of the existence of three selves came up—the way one perceives themself, the way they are perceived, and their true self. Later on, I was with a friend who was…not quite themself. I having noticed this, somewhat to their surprise, mentioned this tripartite conception. Here were two people who had never met, while to my mind one had, the previous night, been describing the other, in terms of this idea. These two people, entirely different in a multitude of ways, were very much connected via myself, and my own interpretation of their thoughts.
I apologize if my reasoning is somewhat cloudy and ambiguous, but it is very late, and I am very tired.
Fin.
Filed under: Earth, and everything in it.... | Tags: generative grammar, intercultural, interfaith, political correctness
It struck me recently—although I can’t identify why—that political correctness acts as a sort of common grammar for the language of diversity. It is an attempt (regardless of its success) to create a common set of rules, by which both (or all) of the players in a dialogue must abide.
Aye, but herein lies the rub: political correctness targets the lowest common denominator—those wiling to engage in an interfaith or intercultural dialogue, but incapable of seeing it outside of the frame of their own cultural and religious prejudices.
At best, political correctness can serve to act as a generative grammar—a handbook of sorts to the groundrules of this globalized game—for the uninitiated; at worst, it serves to stifle meaningful discussion, and deter an individual’s examination of the topics of faith, gender, and race.
Filed under: Earth, and everything in it.... | Tags: Exclusiveness, Flash, privilege, Shifted, wealth
I found this link on the Webby Awards site. It’s a Flash (I can look past the fact that it’s proprietary for the sake of a good piece of art) video, entitled Shifted Exclusiveness. The piece touches on the themes of social identity within a culture of privilege, and does so quite elegantly (despite at least one spelling error). Definitely worth a look.
Filed under: Earth, and everything in it.... | Tags: Alan Moore, anonymity, internet, Kierkegaard, V for Vendetta
I watched V for Vendetta this morning (sadly, without having read the comics). Despite my initial hesitance to watch the film (I actually read real, paper Spiderman comics before ever seeing the theatrical adaptation!), I found it very fascinating. The ending in particular, where the London masses don their Guy Fawkes masks and storm the streets, reminded me strangely of the internet—let me explain:
It seems to me that it is the anonymity afforded by their masks, that emboldens London’s citizens. It is the light to Kierkegaard’s shadow: where Kierkegaard saw the crowd as a way for people to shirk their individual responsibility through their anonymity, the crowd of Londoners are claiming their personal responsibility through their anonymity. Paradoxically, it is their homogeneity that gives them their ability to express their individuality.
Similarly, the internet can act as a mask for us all, but this effect is rarely seen in a positive light. The shadow side of the internet’s power to embolden people to act in ways otherwise unprecedented is (all too) well documented, so I will refrain from repeating them here. It is its ability to bring people together—people of all races, religions, sexual orientations, etc…, by allowing us to emphasize our commonalities—that is not so well documented (at least not in the popular media).
We find at the end of the movie, where the crowd removes their masks, that they are in fact not homogenous, but, rather, belong to every age, race, and sexual orientation. Perhaps we need to see more people taking off their masks, to appreciate the profound power of anonymity, and how it can unite our society.
Filed under: Earth, and everything in it....
I can’t help but feel a little ashamed of my inability to interface with other human beings. On select afternoons, I take to sitting in on a circle consisting mostly of upper-class older women. In the words of Conor Oberst:
“No, I don’t ride, I just sit and watch the people there;
and they remind me of wind-up cars in motion, the way
they spin and turn and jockey for positions.”
The problem seems to come when I find myself with people who are just like me: they speak of politics (and throw fundraisers for the politicians I support); they reject the mainstream media; they take real steps to become more sustainable human beings. Somehow, despite this, we’re different.
People are fascinating: there are impatient psychologists, intolerant social workers, and everything in between. Am I really so conceited as to think I’m better than most, or is it that I just prefer to keep my mouth shut, and try not to relive the failings of the rest of our species?
Sometimes I feel no better than Proust’s good old Monsieur Swann, glaring down his nose at the bourgeois dinner parties of the Verdurins, secretly disillusioned with the whole of society, and taking to seducing underage peasant-girls.
Maybe I can just never live down the fact that I come from the working class, that I have little understanding or patience for those who have more; or maybe I’m just as John Lennon said:
“You think you’re so clever and classless and free,
but you’re still fucking peasants as far as I can see.”
Now, I must be off to a new crust of this social Earth: I must go to meditation.
Filed under: Earth, and everything in it.... | Tags: Bill Plotkin, Faith Leaders Forum, IdeaFestival, skateboards, Waldorf
This Saturday, my role as a PeaceCaster led me to an event sponsored by The Center (for Interfaith Relations), held at The Metro United Way building. I arrived early to help set-up, and found myself greeted by a heavy dose of rain, as well as our Program Director taking refuge in his car. Rather than rolling down our windows, and yelling back and forth to one another, I decided to make the mad dash through the rain to his car.
I had been assigned to assist in interviewing the environmentalist, and psychologist, Bill Plotkin. Now, I make no pretension of hiding my credulity toward—what I’m tempted to call—the “New Age,” but I have the utmost faith in the choices of our Program Director.
Once again, my faith in the PeaceCasters was reinvigorated, as I watched the interviewer (you know who you are, should you read this) execute his interview with the most spectacular maturity. The interview laster for a good half-hour, and covered topics ranging from media, to the role of nature in child development, to education reform, etc…. I found myself surprisingly enthralled.
The crowd dispersed once the lecture had ended, and I began milling about. At one point I found myself face to face with the Parent Association Chair from Waldorf (School of Louisville), and at another with a fellow volunteer from the IdeaFestival. I wasn’t surprised to find a Waldorf friend—it was an apparent overlap in the social strata; however, the connection for my comrade from the IdeaFestival left me intrigued.
I woke up the next morning still a little bewildered, particular at the fact that I had become so resolute on waking so early that morning, and dedicating eight hours of my day to Mr. Plotkin’s intensive workshop. I made the (oh, so extended seven minute) drive, over to Saint Agnes Church, where the workshop was to be held in “The Barn” behind the church. It isn’t so much a barn to my eyes, as a brick house vaguely resembling a barn however.
The day was full of familiar faces: a couple from my time in a Theory U reading group, and some from the Faith Leader’s Forum (another two day’s stories). The process started with my sharing a strange and only half-remembered story from my childhood—one of my earliest memories of being in nature. It continued with me then speaking about myself, from the voice of the inhabitants of this memory; in my case the woods, trees, wind, and my father, although we left that undiscussed. The day concluded with my climbing into a slightly large and malformed tree, and having a rather personal conversation with it about my failed relationships, and my fears for the future. I left feeling quite sad and ashamed that there wasn’t more that I could do for the tree, which had been so hospitable in allowing me to spend my time among it’s branches.
After a final farewell to the group, and some exchanges of email addresses and the such, I made my way from the forest, to the Monkey Wrench, where some students of a friend of a friend were exhibiting their skateboard art. It was a strange contrast, and I couldn’t help be feel terribly unique, despite being among the largest group of my peers I’ve been around in maybe years.
It hasn’t been until now that Bill Plotkin’s words, which have been hovering in the periphery of my mind since, have begun to connect with me in that moment of poetic recognition, where you , and your place in the world, seem to momentarily align. He spoke of the stage of our life which is traditionally reserved for late adolescence, which he refers to as the cocoon: the time when the caterpillar literally weaves its own tomb, to liquify its body, lose all semblance to the creature it once was, and reemerge. I wonder, as I feel that I have only stepped into this threshold of being a caterpillar, if I am not really spinning that very tomb, preparing my own psychological death, to see what might emerge?
Filed under: Earth, and everything in it....
“cat•er•pil•lar |ˈkatə(r)ˌpilər|
noun
1 the larva of a butterfly or moth”I have never considered myself a “social” person. I don’t consider myself a social person; however, I find myself, at this time in my life, being a very social person (or, at least, relatively social).
I have never understood which social group was my own: geek, nerd, dork, loser, slacker, hacker, musician, politician, beautician, starving artist, social critic, outsider, south-sider, child philosopher, stand-up comic, etc…, etc…, etc…. What I have come to realize though, through my limited recent forays into society, is how much these lines converge. The geek knows someone who’s a nerd, who’s best friend is sort of a dork, who’s boyfriend might be a complete loser, who’s roommate is a total slacker (and a mediocre hacker at best, but who is also best friends with the geek!).
Thusly, I decided to start a blog, for my own sake, to log my journey as I try to navigate the strange and interconnected channels of Louisville society. So, what does it mean to be a Social Caterpillar? Well, I might have to admit to having become a (relatively) social person, but I still can’t claim to have the grace to justify being called a Social Butterfly.
