Making a Mark and Dealing with Death

Graffiti, it's been around for as long as we have. It can range from a way of telling a story, making a statement, or just a way of getting the world to remember you. It's this last form of graffiti that I'd like to think about for a bit, since the reasons for the other two seem more obvious. I suppose this reason is clear too though, we know that our existence is fleeting and we're trying to do whatever we can to make it more permanent. The typical format is this: Name and Year, it's the Cliffnotes version of you. Some observations: the style has changed over the years, if you look at graffiti that's three hundred years old it's carefully etched out - like Roman script. Well this is a silly question, but why has our handwriting gotten worse? Is it because more people know how to write and thus we have to write more frequently, leading inevitably to less careful, poorer looking script? Also, what sort of feelings should seeing that graffiti inspire? I trace my fingers along it trying to picture the person who was laughing to himself as he etched away at the stone. Could he have pictured me? I'll admit that I'm always compelled to leave my mark as well. It was a thrilling to finally be around graffiti that was hundreds of years old, to include myself in that history book!

I'm crazed about the passage of time. First time is ridiculous, for some reason I have a lot of trouble understanding it in any academic capacity. The theory of relativity is about as far as I go, I've only dabbled in string theory. It's just that time is so human. It makes it hard to understand how could it operate outsidhe of ourselves, honestly I'm not sure if it even does. But anyway, my fascination isn't just limited to the past (as was discussed in a prior post), but to the future as well. Actually, it's mainly directed at the future because it scares me. Martin Heidegger discussed this anxiety at great length, he said it was part of "our-being-towards-death" or rather at what is always never [because you cannot experience death itself.] He reasoned that one becomes an "authentic" human when she accepts her mortality and inevitably that she will never realize a totalized self. But Heidegger, how?! How. How. How. That's the tricky part. When I feel anxious I'm enveloped by it, I could live with the knowledge that none of my projects may be accomplished, but is this any sort of life? There may be a sense of quietude involved in it, but I'm sorry Heidegger, it seems completely un-human. Sure ontology suggests that we are in the way he described, but what about our experience? We graffiti because we don't want it to end, we won't accept it (I think even tombstones might represent "immortality"). The human spirit chooses ignorance.

Some graffiti I saw in Oxford, UK

Random Observation:

I tend to dress with a bit more of a vintage style I suppose, which people never usually notice really, but whenever I'm on my relatively old bike the elderly stare. I like to think that I seem like a time traveler from their childhood or something to them, which I know is a really strange thought. Today on my way to class I bike passed a group of older folks heading into a museum and old man just looked at me with the biggest smile on his face! Then a student told me that I looked like I wasn't from this century. Well golly gee wiz, thanks!

The outfit

Bring it!

"Working out isn't just a thing you do, it's a lifestyle."

This was said to me by a friend (now makeshift personal trainer) while commenting on her newly found love - P90X! If you haven't heard of it (apparently though it's one of the more popular workout videos), P90X is a workout regimen designed for those who want to "take their fitness to the next level." That's fine and good, except I'm at level zero. I don't think I look particularly unhealthy, but my strength and endurance are horrible. Let's put it this way, by the end of this I'd like to be able to do a push up. I've been going to the gym everyday for the past few days with my roommate where our friend will continue to whip our butts into shape. Having someone standing over you, telling you not complain is key. She'll go so far as to tell us that we should be enjoying the pain and you know what, it actually helps. The goal is to keep this up, one hour of the gym everyday.... forever. It's the forever that kills me though, it's the whole making this a "lifestyle" that I can't get over... because it's true. It's a daunting but necessary task - especially because my plans to study philosophy for the next five years (Ok that just scared me too. Five more years?!) tends to entail a sedentary lifestyle.

There would be times where I'd be sitting in a chair for hours, like 6 hours, not moving, just reading Kant. Kant! Ah... you see we have a tendency to read and write about life rather than living it. Philosopher's like to talk about human nature, but honestly after sitting and reading like that you stop feeling human. This shouldn't be. I want to feel embodied! Hunger pangs shouldn't remind me of my physicality, simply being in the world should! It's true pain throws us into existing more than anything else. Think about it are you more aware of your being when you have the flu or when you're sitting in class? It shouldn't be this way though. Modernity has done this too us, the suburbs have, the food we eat, everything. I'm thankful for it all when it comes down to it, but don't you ever get the compulsion to just run?

I want to be able to run when I feel that way. Embodiment I'm coming for you!

In the words of P90X, BRING IT!

p.s

I really like it when we all highfive after workouts.

Highfives make everyone happy, we just can't help ourselves can we?

Journey through Juggling

Technically speaking challenged failed, but I'll continue to practice. I'll learn to juggle, it just may take a little more than a week.

The Invention of Lying

You may have seen the movie "The Invention of Lying," which has had a heavy influence on this post. I've been thinking about the nature of lying for a while now for some reason or the other and let me tell you, lying is strange. It's a completely human trait, animals can't lie because they lack imagination and it's our ability to picture what isn't that provides us with this curious trait. The premise of the movie deals with just that, human beings never evolved to have imagination and thus they also can't lie. They have to say what they're thinking or feeling as it is. This has all sorts of reciprocations, like with love for instance. They rely solely on who will be the best "mate" and not who they love. They don't understand that concept of love, just like animals (although don't get me wrong, I like to think that my cats love me but I know in reality I'm anthropomorphizing them too much by saying that).

What's really strange though, is lying to yourself. It means that you must be tricking yourself because you have to know the truth - or else it wouldn't be called self-deception right? How does the mind block out what it doesn't want to know?! Coming up with a logical proof for that seems difficult...

But back to love. The movie suggested that love couldn't exist without imagination and in some way I think that's correct, but does that mean that all love is imagined? What is love? [Insert corny 90's song and head bob here] Are we really just fooling ourselves into becoming enamored with evolutionarily useless traits? In a way yes, I think love entails a certain amount of self-deception. Don't get me wrong though, I think it's probably the most beautiful thing that makes us human. I may be in a particularly sappy mood (though let's face it, I'm always in particularly sappy mood), but there's something so wonderful in our ability into tricking ourselves into love! It's mystical - the universe would be a bland place to exist if it weren't for our imagination; instead of just being, we thrive! I am equating imagination with lying, but really I do think they are one in the same - we're capable of so many unworldly things (like love, art, story telling, scientific advancements, philosophy etc.) because we can picture what is not.

So to those caught up with the fad of "radical honesty" I say give it up! Sure I can certainly appreciate telling the truth, but really where has the truth ever gotten us?

Punishment

Punish me through a challenge. I've failed at BEDA, blame it on the other acronym GRE.

If anyone has something that they'd like to challenge me to learn/do I'll do it. If not I'm going with learning how to juggle. I one week I will have a video up of me juggling.

I've borrowed this idea from him: http://charliemcdonnell.com/juggling/

I am taking the test tomorrow, something I'll keep in mind: how frequently do words having definition relating to verbal abuse appear. I have a theory...

Something Striking

It's late again, so I suppose I'll share something that just happened to me though it's not much of a "blog."

I saw the movie Toy Story 3 and afterwards I felt compelled to dig through my closet to find Lamby-Poo, my childhood companion. I got her on the day of my birth and she was a constant figure at my side for many of those early years. At some point in middle school I guess I decided I no longer required her company and she was sequestered to away. Last night I found her, smelt her (maybe that's weird, but smell is tied to memory. Scent is VERY important to me), and placed her on my nightstand.

I am in bed now, sitting with my computer on my lap, mucking around on the internet. I picked up Lamby-Poo to examine her further and I find a couple of short black hairs on her. I pull one out, examine it.... it's the hair of my cat Punchie who passed away seven years ago. I also grew up with Punchie, my sister and I used to say he was our brother. He was a kitten and I was a baby when we met... we loved him very much. Well, suddenly it came back to me; the time right before he had died. His hair was strewn on everything, like a cat's does and I was obsessed with preserving the memory of him. I purposely wouldn't clean things off, I filmed him, took pictures, I just wanted to burn his image into my skull. He was the first "person" I had ever lost and so I was trying to prepare myself for the inevitably traumatic experience.

Here mingled with the orange fur of one of my 'new' cats Mr. Numchucks (yes, we have an affinity for odd names in this family) was grayish-black, with white tipped fur of Punchie (full name, Punchenello Funny Fellow). I miss him, he was a good cat.

How the past floods back!

Punchie

Space Cadet

Uh oh. It's not technically Monday anymore and I have yet to write this blog. Ok, well here's something, though it's random and probably trivial...

Do you think you'll ever be in outer space? Virgin has a commercial spaceship now... and I guess they're trying to workout all sorts of seemingly ridiculous things, like how to have sex in space (for this they've prototyped a velvet tube) or how to get a hot tub in a spaceship (it's more like a floating sphere of h20, than a box with water in it). I asked my mom this question and she said that when she was my age she was positive that she would have been living in space by her forties. Such a sentiment makes me wonder if my very posing of the question is naive.

If you got a chance to go into space would you?

This is a question I haven't got answer to. I mean I'm terrified of flying on a plane, I couldn't imagine how afraid I would be to leave the planet. On the other hand think about the beauty of it all! At the same time, think about all the beauty there is to see on Earth...

Well, this is just a random thought. The show Doctor Who was the impetus for these questions. Here have a look, it's a fantastic show: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpbmMhNe6aA&feature=channel

And with that, Good Night!

Don't Panic!

I can't help but feel it a bit ironic that I had this ubiquitous phrase (made so famous by the author Douglas Adams from whose work the title of my blog comes) slapped onto the back window of my car, in which I actually used to panic quite a bit. I have a four hour commute between my home and college. I also have an irrational fear of driving. Well, really it's a somewhat rational fear given the number of car accidents, I would have to say that my fear of flying is probably more irrational really... But anyways, fear a funny thing - especially when what you're afraid of is intangible. I'm sure there's a Radiolab episode out there that explains the science behind fear, but alas I've yet to listen to it. So what you're going to get is some pseudo-science compliments of my mind!

Fear of the intangible or rather the non-existent, must involve a certain amount of self-deception, (which is another really strange concept.... how can we lie to ourselves?) But anyways, our brain isn't processing a hungry bear roaring into our faces with the hopes of us becoming it's next meal. No, instead the idea of an unlikely possibility manifests itself in very real way. Essentially, we turn nothing into something. I think we do this often, so often that I wonder how we evolved this way - to what advantage does it give us? (But this I will save for tomorrow's blog because I've been wanting to write something about lying in general!)

So one minute you're driving talking to your friend in the passenger seat, the next you become aware of your breathing. This is a strange feeling, to anticipate your every breath. Soon you feel like you're breathing is off, like it's somehow out of sync, you compensate and it begins to feel like you're almost getting too much air. Black spots appear and tunnel vision ensues. You have to pull over! You try to reason with yourself.... there's nothing to be frightened over! But you can't control your body, this is a fight that your mind has lost. How helpless of a feeling. The strangest thing about panic attacks is that they often happen unexpectedly, a.k.a you're not actively internalizing your fear at the moment the attack hits. That's the thing about worry and fear, they're real good hiders.

I remember when I was fearless, (it's something that I think develops with age.) I remember when my mind was in control of my body, it's when I was a gymnast. You see, gymnastics isn't something that one can just pick up. Doing a back flip isn't so much about the physical training it requires, as it is the mental. From a young age we were told to have no fears, second guessing oneself could have meant a broken neck after all. And I have to admit that it's an amazing feeling to be so careless. Well, life happens and here I am: trapped within my body, the way most people will live their lives. I'm not sure how the mind can triumph over unconscious physicality, something to think about I suppose...

Silent Songstress

Do you sing-along to music in the car? I rarely see people doing it. Sometimes when I think I catch a glimpse of a fellow commuter cutting loose I soon realize that they were just having a (most likely obnoxious) conversation on their bluetooth headset. It makes me wonder... what is this world coming to?! All I'm going to say is that it's a sad day when take the unnaturalness and inanity of driving silently. I mean... singing is fun and I can't even sing. In fact, singing in the car is fun because I can't sing; like when else am I going to get an opportunity to do so? Because I sure as hell won't intentionally subject you to my voice. Yelling in the car is also a must try. Screaming is very good for the soul and I'm not really the type of person to scream at anyone else so a lonely commute is the best place for such behavior. Belt out some nonsense and you'll feel more alive after, promise.

Well, I just think it would put a smile on my face to see some middle-aged man singing along to the radio or his CD of choice. Oh, and am I embarrassed by neighboring drivers gawking at my performance? Nope. I aim to please, even if it's at my expense.

Now it's time for Random Observations!

1. People with unusual names are lucky because they get the best email addresses. For instance, leila.shooshani@gmail.com Allison Smith, for instance probably has to do alli.smith1284@gmail.com, poor girl.

2. I do not have a radio voice.

3. Going to Starbucks makes me feel really white.

4. It annoys me how complicated it is to donate something to a charity, rather than an organization that's just going to turn around and sell it for profit.

5. People act funny when they start college and are trying to impress new people.

6. Everyone's internet persona is different than their one "IRL."

7. I met someone who listens to Wizard rock in L.A, I noticed a Moaning Mrytles pin she had on that said "suffering from Post Potter Depression." I lied to her and told her that I also loved the music.

Sorry my posts have become less and less substantial. GRE in one week... ahh!

Storytelling

When I'm having trouble falling asleep at night I have a couple of techniques. First one should try lighting a candle, having a cup of tea, and reading good book just before sleep. The other thing to do is to listen to either Sufjan Stevens or Garrison Keillor. I name these two people because they both happen to be story tellers in their own rights. (It just so happens that the both of them come from the Midwest and draw the majority of their inspiration from their homeland). Not to mention they have soothing voices.... well at least to me.

Stevens' lyrics are stories and I get the impression that they're his stories, which make them just that much more relate-able. Take the following song for instance, the emotions it evokes... In this story he's young and discovering what it means to live.

Keillor is also fantastic. He is a storyteller in the most traditional sense of the term. I love Lake Wobegon, the semi-fictional town he's created and told us stories about for over a decade. If you've been listening long enough you begin to know the characters probably better than you know your own neighbors (well, that's at least the way it is Florida). I find something romantic in the disposition of Midwesterners, those old Norwegian folk. His insights into life come from a wizened man. And his voice, well you either love it or you hate it, but if I'm in a sleepy mood he puts me out in 7 minutes guaranteed.

So there you have it, two beautiful storytellers whom I love to listen to. Listen to them while you're wide awake so that you can fully appreciate what they have to say, but if you ever do need a bedtime story, they'll do the trick just fine!

With that being said, good night!

Memory

So I made a video blog. It's a bit of an experiment, probably a failed one... I'm a bit incoherent despite my attempts to splice out the jibber-jabber.

I was trying to discuss memories and if/how much they form our identity, or at least our perceived self. Is an attachment to the past reflective of a person who is unsure of their character or is it just a matter of triviality? I wonder if we choose to represent ourselves to others through our memories.... let me know your take on it if you have one and also if

have a special request to see an end to the vlogging!

BEDA

Okay, so I'm a bit late but I'm going to try to participate in "Blog Everyday in August." There will probably be less attempts at insight and more random thoughts on my day etc. within these blogs. So here we go.

I've been having trouble finding "inspiration" lately, which I feel is due mostly in part to the amount of meneal work I've been doing lately. Being cooped up in a library is maybe good for some cursory observations, but let me tell you it gets very old very quickly. I've also slacked on my thesis reading (the interesting stuff) in order to focus in on the GRE (the useless stuff). Multiplying fractions and memorizing pretentious vocabulary doesn't allow much time for revelations. Actually here's one thing I did notice... an insane percentage of "the 500 hardest words on the GRE" have meanings similar to "to verbally abuse." Why is that?!

Well, I went to L.A to visit the family. I'll have to write about that soon. Unfortunately this summer I've been so brainwashed to have this disgusting inclination to study that I wasn't able to fully enjoy my time there - in fact it kind of felt like a waste of time, which is just such a horrible thing to feel.

Grilled cheese now then it's off to the library for me to take some more practice tests. Oh life.