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.

Now, on to the point of this post: this is the end (for the moment) of the Social Caterpillar blog. While I still completely support the ideas behind “social catepillarism,” it is an idea which is simply too limited in its focus for me to produce a functional blog. Also, my recent move to college has rendered a great part of my motivation for the blog obsolete: I am no longer living in Louisville, and therefore am less involved with those activities which inspired me to create the blog in the first place. College life, while full of diversity, is too focused and homgenous to provide sufficient inspiration; however, as I come upon shining moments of diversity, I will highlight them using Social Caterpillar.

I will be focusing my efforts on The 21c, a new blog focusing on all things 21st Century—from the future of technology, to the ethics and culture accompanying it. It will hopefully be fueled by my experiences as an Informatics major at IU Bloomington. You should be seeing the first posts shortly.

So, as my life is goes through (in the words of Ian Curtis) “a change of speed, a change of style, a change of scene, with no regrets,” so will my blog, and here’s hoping that you’ll come along.

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.

After the late Tim Russert’s recent leave of absence, I gave pause to how I get my news. He was a fine newsman, and one of the few I enjoyed watching, but the simple truth, is that I don’t not watch the televised news. I rely on social media.

I’m a massive fan of Digg, and (to a lesser extent, although I actually prefer their content) Reddit, and have been known to troll a couple of others. These sites are typically a good source for liberal-leaning articles and opinions on breaking news. Now, while I value the leftist lean of these platforms, what I don’t value is that my non-leftist friends (in fact not many of my friends period) use the site. This set my mind to wandering.

The issue with these types of services, is that they are targeted (albeit indirectly) towards the technologically oriented Gen-Y liberal types, who, as one might think, tend to use social media in general. This is a problem that keeps most Digg comments sections from being a debate between, say, McCain and Obama supporters, but between Obama and Hillary supporters (or at least before the ‘end’ of the Democratic primaries).

This isn’t a unique situation, but merely perhaps the most salient example of the ‘digital divide,’ when not only are opportunities lost by those who don’t participate, but a new media elite emerge. Do we really want a television media pushing a Fox News, right-wing agenda, and an internet media pushing a Bill Maher leftist agenda, with less and less crossover of truly meaningful debate on either?

Despite these problems, I think it is still apparent that the internet is the more open and accessible medium. It might be that this is simply an issue of critical mass, and the question is not if, but when will the hype surrounding social news sites such as Digg, spill over beyond not only the political, but also the religious, racial, and ethnic divides, which might act to keep it a walled garden. It seems however, that a new initiative might be in order; one akin to that of web accessibility. 

The core issue (as I give it some thought), might be a flaw in the Google-age mindset of advertising is king. Web advertising gives us a lot of democracy; by having corporations essentially subsidize our favorite and most useful websites, we enjoy free access. The drawback to this scenario being that it’s far cheaper to advertise to a well established market, than to make a concerted effort to reach out to a new (and potentially more diverse) target audience. With Digg this audience is the techno-crunchy left, and as more and more liberal Gen-Yers flock to social media, that leaves television with a more concentrated portion of aging conservatives. This isn’t even taking into consideration the ethnic, racial, and religious aspects affecting the situation.

The solutions to this be innumerable, but all I have to say is this: here’s hoping for more single Muslim ads. 

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.

“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.

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?

“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.