Magic

If you believe that "the Dude" is a modern incarnation of the Zen Master, read on...

I once heard of painters who meditate for months, then finish by putting brush to rice paper and creating a masterpiece in minutes. To those ignorant of the work which proceded it, this perfect execution is close to miraculous. Those who know can appreciate that the art took months to create, regardless of the time spent in the inkwell.

Let's haul out Arthur C. Clarke's road apple about sufficiently advanced technology being indistinguishable from magic. Though it has been abused the fuzzy-minded (myself include) I have enough respect for Mr. Clarke to hope that he understood this statement is true only on the most superficial of levels. Perhaps what he meant by "sufficiently advanced technology" is technology that sufficiently hides the work that is done to create a particular effect. Humankind is daily shrinking both the size and time required to execute the many tasks of mundane life. But is a microwave magical because it can heat a burrito in less than a minute at the press of a button? Doesn't standing backstage at a conjurors show dispel all notions of "magic"?

I have a new job: I am now a bone fide video clerk at the neighbourhood "mom + pop" store. In weaker moments, it is tempting to feel I lucked into this job. Upon furthur reflection, I realize I have been training for this job for a long time now. I will not bore you with details, years of jobs, months of job-finders training and a recognition of the volunteer work I had done prepared me to fall ass-backwards into my dream job. Yes there was luck and prayers (thanks mom and dad), but even then, fortune favours the prepared.

This is magic. Work for what you want.

Destiny

In the twenty-odd years I've been a working man - I mean working person - I mean - never mind. What I am trying to say is that I have only had a regularly scheduled job with a regular paycheck for three years. That's it. From delivering fliers whenever there were fliers to deliver, to the Odd Job Squad in High School, to my casual job as a sitter at the hospital whenever someone needed someone to watch over them, to background work and whatever random job I could muster to survive the slow times (though even the word "muster" seems too pretty for the wretched employment I scavenged) I seem doomed to the irregular schedule. Even as I hone in on new work (with a successful interview and testing under my belt) I realize I have been in denial of its sporadic nature. Serious denial; the job is labelled as "Casual." I know what that means.
But what does it mean? Does some part of me crave the unpredictable and stochastic? Did some molecule get tweaked by gamma radiation whilst I nestled in the womb, sending my income-earning potential onto a wibberly-wobberly trajectory? Is life trying to teach me to provide my own structure to this life, that like a futon from Ikea I must arrange all the pieces myself? How can I know?
A regularly scheduled job with a regularly scheduled paycheck. I had to harness a stormcloud just to type those words. Chance, Fate and Will; like peanutbutter, chocolate and my mouth. As the countdown timer marks how many minutes of time I have left on this computer, forcing a conclusion, forcing clarity of expression, of thought, damn two and a half minutes and I still haven't figured out my Destiny. Or maybe I've figured it out and now I have to figure out of it.
So it goes.

Last Word on Words

The latest "Epoch Times" (http://en.epochtimes.com/news/7-3-21/53152.html) had an article stating that moves were being made to replace "fight" and "fighter" with more neutral words such "spar" in Martial Arts handbooks in order to preserve the "Arts" aspect of the sport. The reasoning was that these contests were tests of skill, not fights in the colloquial sense, and this change would help preserve that tradition. "One cannot just promote non-violence in sport," [Chairman(sic) of the World Martial Arts Games Committee] Marchtaler said. "One must also choose words that support it."
So, an article highlighting the power of words and the ideas behind them without the bugaboo of gender to fuzzy things up. And how did I respond?
Philosopically, I agree. I think in most competitions, respect for the other contender(s) has been lost. People forget that the better one's opponent is, the better one's own skills must be. The sparring partner is a spur to personal betterment.
That said, I'm still tired. For every "fight to spar" transition, there's a dozen "unemployment to employment insurance," changes which smack less of progressiveness and more of bureacratic shuffling. Purely cosmetic or again, putting the horse (mare?) before the cart.
Let's call for a compromise. Let's hope that each change in language at least allows some leverage for some kind of social change, or parallels it. That said, let's choose our fights - oops, I mean "spars," carefully. If policing (monitoring? modifying?) my speech in some small way engenders social equity, well more power to us.

The Power of Language

While I agree with the Captain (see comments, previous post) regarding the power of words to influence thought and action, I also believe in the power of thought to influence words.

Let me just interject that this line of postings was borne mainly from frustration. One, frustation that the policing of words tends to interfere with communication rather than aide it. I suppose that's partly my inner pendulum swinging towards logical, left-brain thinking - words mean what we know they mean and should be used the way they should be used. I forget that language is useful as a form of communication because words and structures carry large bundles of accumulated associations, and can therefore convey more than just a precise, dictionary-sanctioned definition.
Two, I'm just frustrated that we haven't gotten this whole "equality" thing sorted out. I mean, come on. It's been like thirty years. *sigh*

I feel that these words which are under attack (eg. freshman, chairman, and especially mankind) are already, by convention, gender-neutral. Yes, they contain the root 'man'. But grammatically, its a schwa [yay! a chance to say a favourite word!- nk]; and really, we're learning to see these words as gender-neutral, so why not let that run its course rather than turn this into another battlefield. We can choose how we respond to these words, ie. let our thoughts influence our words rather than vice versa.

On: On: Why Sexist Language Matters

Upon re-reading my last post, I am somewhat disturbed by its air of snarkiness . Falling in love with the virtual sound of my own voice leaves room in my heart for little else.
Just to clarify, that even though I am hurtling towards Total Enlightenment, I am sexist. More correctly, I have sexist beliefs and reactions. Still. I live in a society where gender stereotypes are subtly and not-so subtly encouraged (enforced?) , each sex learning and internalizing what attitudes and behaviours are appropriate. So, I grew up with certain expectations of females , and females were raised to meet those expectations; and vice versa, of course. Couple this with the human propensity for categorization, well...
My real problem with the alternet article is my utter disdain for the human tendancy to focus on symptoms rather than root problems. Will replacing "mankind" with "humankind" make a dent in domestic violence or encourage more young women to enter the hard sciences? Is "sexist" language even a real problem, or merely a linguistic artifact? My ultimate problem with the article is this: I believe that in an ideal (read: equal) world, it wouldn't matter to a woman whether or not she was called "Chairman" or "Chairperson."

And just to tiptoe furthur into controversy (and closer to snarkiness), I believe that women have just as much power as men (and yes, as a broad category, men and women in society are different). They, on the whole, don't have the same type of power, but it is sexist to insist that they are somehow weaker for it. Female power is neglected because male power is more public; and since both men and women seem to covet it more, more esteemed. But isn't esteem, and even the "power" which women are struggling for, simply a masculine value which may be over-emphasized in our society? I honestly believe that any individual woman is capable of exercising what is traditionally "male" power. But statisically, at this particular moment in history, most are not doing so. I hope that as women aspire to traditionally male-dominated roles, a parallel movement to recognize the more subtle powers of women is underway as well. At the very least, I hope that all of us, on an individual level, accept and honour the power of the feminine. And if this influences changes in language, more power to us. But don't put the cart before the horse.

On: Why Sexist Language Matters

http://www.alternet.org/story/48856/

Speaking as a member of an allegedly priveleged class (ie. white male), I really have no authority to comment at all now, do I? Because I can't know what it's like to be discriminated against for who I am, especially through something as insidious as the very language we speak.
Okay, forget commenting on the alternet article. Does any white male enter any situation tabla rasa? Don't you think it takes us at least a few moments to convince "the underclass" that, despite superficial similaries, we aren't the father who neglected them, the uncle who diddled them, the frosh who raped them, the racist who taunted them, the boss who harrassed them...
A little note to anyone who thinks you and yours are the only ones who have it hard: Life is shitty for everyone. No one gets treated fairly. Everyone's got handicaps, internal and external; male, female, white, black(sic), rich, poor. Like Homer Simpson says, we all have a crayon up our nose.
So, bringing "personhole cover" into vogue is going to cure sexism? Cute. Unfortunately, any plan for equality which relies on changing the behaviour of the offending party is doomed for failure. In fact, it's counterproductive. Do you really think you'll be seen as an equal if you run off and tattle on your supposed equal?
We teach people how to treat us. They believe about us what we believe. I spent several years working in an office as the only male. Was I offended when the group was addressed as "girls"? Hells no. I knew the intention counted more than the linguistic specifics. Were my co-workers offended at being called girls? They didn't appear to be. I guess they didn't get the memo. Or maybe they just didn't depend on someone else to determine their identy.
Yes, there are certain behaviours which cannot be tolerated. Yes, sometimes the force of an outside organization is required. But no one's handing out "equality." Sometimes it requires believing, knowing you are equal, despite what anyone (or everyone) says.

Olympic Fever

It's always a tricky business, criticizing the Olympics. What could I possibly have against amateur athletes striving for physical excellence? Nothing at all, actually. But am I the only one who thinks it's ridiculous to build Olympic class facilities again and again, city after city, year after year? How many luge tracks does this world need, anyway? Yet still, city councils all over the world clamber over each other for the 'honour' of becoming a host city. Do they not know that Montreal just now finished paying off the '76 Winter Games? Do they care?
Yes, yes. I know it's more than just dollars and cents, and since there's no way of averting the big O from descending upon my city, or preventing the environmental devastation being commited in its name, it's time to accentuate the positive. Vancouver is a gorgeous city, and can be an inspiration to the world, and I and my kith will do all we can to create enough magic here for everyone in the world to take home a sample. Who knows what artifacts those machines will dig up as they tear into sacred territory?

First Posting (obviously)

Drinking organic Bolivian coffee, black, and listening to Cake after working harder than I've worked in a long, long time (hard, physical labour, with the scars, muddy clothes and seven day stubble to prove it). Heaven is beneath our feet. More specifically, Heaven is under my ass.

Say, isn't blogging one of the things I said I would never do? Then again, I also said I would never keep a mysterious power source next to my testicles, I mean get a cell phone. But life is full of suprises, isn't it? Isn't it?

Free will is a joke.