Wandering the Ether

Peace & Love in 2009

2008-12-21T10:07:00.005-05:00

I thought that reviewing Wandering the Ether's archive would possibly rekindle my desire to post here, but it becomes clear that too much time has passed. I feel completely disconnected from it. Going to leave it open for readers, but won't be adding any new content. Should I choose to continue blogging, I'll be doing so through a different interface.

"When you learn: teach. When you get: give." ~ Maya Angelou

Let the Hard Times Roll

2008-12-18T18:46:00.004-05:00

My grandparents used to tell us stories of The Great Depression. Tales of hunger, minimalism, and going without. No matter how bleak their recollection of events, their experiences were never without examples of people coming together, helping each other, caring, sharing... drawing strength from their ordeal.

To be honest, I'm glad we're in a recession, and part of me delights in knowing that things will need to get worse before they can become better. Collectively, we deserve this. We need a wake up call, and maybe it's finally arrived. I don't know about you all, but I don't aspire to bequeath a Hobbesian reality to my child.

Going Public Again

2008-12-11T07:53:00.005-05:00

Another semester complete. Amazing how quickly time streams forward! It's a curious state one slips into, engulfed with homework. I've nearly forgotten what it feels like to simply just write what I want to, or read a book of my own choosing. Or blogging. What's that all about? Oh wait, that's right... I have a blog! /Cracks knuckles in preparation.

Months ago, (years maybe at this point), an old friend of mine was just finishing his Masters in Social work and he experienced an epiphany. Call it enlightenment, dub it paranoia, bottom line is he removed his blog from the general public, so that only those few whom he had invited personally would be able to view it. He explained his reasoning for doing so was due to professional ethics, and a fear that a blog open to the public was in a way, too much information.

I naively blasted him for this. "Oh man, you got to let that freak flag fly! If someone reads your thoughts and thinks any less of you because of it, forget them, they're not worth consideration anyways" (paraphrasing of course, hey, it's been awhile!!). Basically, I tried to convince my friend that going private was the wrong thing to do.

Fast forward and here I am looking to link my blog to a professional portfolio as a means of demonstrating that authoring a blog is not foreign to me. And yet, I can't help but obsess over the content of many of these posts. What is offensive, what isn't? What qualifies as too much information? What types of eccentric explorations would send a potential employer running for their dear life?

Because of this, I've gone through and cleaned out some of my old posts, and I am considering removing even more. Is this bad? Am I selling out? How does one conform to a norm that isn't even tangible? I just hope that anyone who reads this blog, and sifts through the archive of older thoughts would realize that what can be found here, in more ways than one, is bigger than me, and represents more than just my opinions. A variety of respected colleagues and a handful of odd beans have helped stimulate discussion along the way and quite often, they've served up the inspiration behind each new post.

Shit, I haven't posted once in the last 7 months. Funny how things change. I can remember a point at which blogging dominated my free time, and it was not uncommon to devote 4 or 5 hours a day to writing and reading others. Digging through this blog now brings back a lot of memories. It's clear to me that I have changed, the world has changed. So much, that I wonder if deleting some of the older posts is criminal in nature, a destruction of intellectual property, an unlawful erasure of personal narrative. Is this the essence of blogging? Put it out there, come what may, and then live with it? Walk the talk?

Ah, nothing finer than a fresh patch o' grey.

Peeping the Unknown

2008-04-21T17:39:00.003-05:00

I lay there, window open wide. The weather's warmer now, and the frogs peep as I contemplate sleep. Way off, the familiar rumble of a train. Wonder what the frogs think when they hear it. Must sound mysterious, bigger than life. What name do they give it? The Great Croaker: Lord of the Frogs? Do such magics, well beyond a lowly frog's ability to comprehend appear God-like? A force of nature to be reckoned with? The train passes. My mind wanders. I think maybe I should have been born a frog.

Huzun of Being

2008-04-08T16:55:00.004-05:00

For the bulk of my life I have experienced a persistent sadness... and I've never known what to attribute it to, or what to call it. Abuse? Death of innocence? Depression? Failure? Lonliness? No matter what I've sought to call it, none of the titles ever fit because this sadness is not negative. That is to say, it's never detracted from my life, only enhanced it. I've drawn from my sadness, harnessing it as a source of compassion, creativity, inspiration and love. This sadness that lives within my soul is the bittersweet essence of a tragically flawed, and yet wondrously beautiful existence.

Now having read Orhan Pamuk's Istanbul, I believe I finally understand the nature of this feeling. Pamuk refers to it as huzun, a Turkish word meaning "melancholy." He explains that within Islamic tradition, there is a philosophy that has evolved over the centuries to explain the huzun that we experience in this life. Dating all the way back to Aristotle's idea of the melaina kole--"black bile." Pamuk suggests that the huzun in Turkish poetry is far different than the Westernized view of melancholy. He explains that it expresses a 'grief that no one can or would wish to escape, an ache that finally saves our souls and also gives them depth. For the poet, huzun is the smoky window between him and the world. The screen he projects over life is painful because life itself is painful' (Pamuk 104).

I find this strangely reassuring as I sit here wrapped in such a pervasive melancholic funk, enjoying it, drawing strength of purpose from it. Poking and wiggling it like a sore tooth.

The Animal in Man

2008-04-05T10:06:00.007-05:00

The longer I study psychology in the academic sense, the more it occurs to me that it is a science largely interested in drawing distinctions between human and animal intelligence. As if some level of separation were egotistically necessary. I have yet to encounter a psychology textbook that isn't saturated with the statement: "unlike animals." We seem to have this base need to believe that we are somehow vastly apart from the rest of Earth's creatures, existing outside the dirty sweet soil of the natural world.

Let's for the sake of discussion assume that this is true, and we are on a separate evolutionary track destined for intellectual grandeur. Because when we seek to identify our so-called advantage, (thumbs aside) it is our brain, and therefore our ability to create, imagine, and intuit. We should, by all reasonable means then, be interested in the advancement of human thought, and applaud progressive ideas. We should be rewarding those who display the courage to go against the grain and speak out. Additionally, there should be more of us interested in doing just that! However that is not the case. We, as a thinking species are largely conservative, regressive even, and we do not reward radical minds until centuries after their passing when their words are no longer frighteningly relevant.

While browsing through this months PBS program guide, I stumbled across an entry that really helped to solidify this concept. It looked a little something like this:

Walt Whitman
He is one of the most-recognized figures in American literary history; poet, patriot and faithful advocate of democracy. But in his own time, critics denounced Walt Whitman as a "lunatic raving in pitiable delirium." They pronounced his signature book of poetry, Leaves of Grass, "slimy," "vile," and "beastly."

But this is not a sentiment reserved for dear old Walt. This is an indoctrinated social stance that is carefully cultivated by the same uber-conservative elements responsible for such things as book burnings, the pledge of allegiance, and Sunday school.

On the one hand, we use this notion of advanced free thought as a measuring stick capable of putting some space between ourselves and the beasts. Yet, the hidden reality is that many of us don't want the responsibility inherent to free thought. What we secretly want is to be told what to do. We want someone else to manage our lives and make our decisions for us. And in this sense, we ironically have gained no separation. We are merely sheep.

Just a Thought...

2008-04-01T18:47:00.006-05:00

There are no social problems in this world that exist devoid of solution. The reason most of our problems persist is due to somebody, somewhere, profiting from their continuation.

Through Child Lens

2008-03-29T12:44:00.005-05:00

While discussing the difference between religion and spirituality, my nine-year-old asked me a profoundly philosophical question: “If Heaven is paradise, with nothing bad in it… how can anyone appreciate it, and know that it’s good?” Several weeks removed from that afternoon, her question still hangs with me. The fact is we define reality indirectly, by comparing objects, experience, and events to their opposites. We know “up,” because we understand “down.” Good as it relates to bad, pleasure to pain, hot to cold, and so on. Therefore, in order to comprehend or appreciate Heaven, one must simultaneously experience Hell. A condition wholly unattainable while one exists in a state of blissful paradise. Essentially, the concept of Heaven through its own design negates itself.

This theory has been brought to you courtesy of my daughter; “The Sage.”

Spring Renewal Brings Academic Uncertainty

2008-03-20T21:00:00.006-05:00

There is something very unique about strolling through a university campus as classes are letting out. The flow of people every which way, the sidewalks bustling with a youthful energy that while befitting a Spring day, is never out of place in the realm of academia regardless of season. Miles removed from any substantial urban center, universities stand as cultural meccas, drawing to them the brightest minds in the most diverse packages. So much promise. All the opportunity in the world within arms reach. On days like this, I have occasion to ask myself whether or not I'll be able to break free of her spell come graduation day.

Several years ago, I chose to pursue a career in Computer Programming. While sifting through the requisite weeds of the degree, I encountered a Composition professor by the name of Dennis Heinrichson. The man changed my life in a way that no other instructor has, and it was largely because of my time spent with Dennis, and my exposure to his class that I discovered that my true calling was to write. With a slight shift to the left; breath held and fingers crossed, I disposed of the programming and immersed myself in Professional Writing instead, certain that my true path had finally revealed itself.

That was two years ago. I am no longer attending community college, and have since migrated to the university. My writing has improved in that time, and I've even had a short story published. This blog in a way, has become a monument to my desire to write and as March 31st fast approaches I realize that it has been two years since it's inception. But the story does not end there, nor does my ongoing ambivalent affair with mistress academia. This semester I've had the privilege of encountering yet another master of the craft, someone through which I clearly imagine myself, thirty years hence.

This morning while waiting for my daughter's bus to arrive, she mentioned a project that she was involved with at school that would require her to speak in front of the class. She went on to express her misgivings regarding public speaking, and explained that doing so caused her to feel uneasy. I tried to console her by linking to my own experience, and assuring her that everyone feels that way to some extent, even her old Dad. Truth be told, there is nothing I would like more than to pursue a degree in Philosophy and spend the remainder of my days whiling away the hours scribbling obscure interpretations of this condition we dub "life." Only problem is, we all need a 9 to 5, and where Philosophy is concerned, that translates into one thing: teaching.

So it is that when you take a love of writing, and a penchant for philosophy; factoring against it a general disdain (if not complete loathing) for public oration... well you end up with a Professional Writing major I suppose. Which makes today's synchronic conundrum all the more funky. Yes, I am getting there in a round about way, hang in there and you will soon be rewarded with the point of this ramble. Having seen Sage onto the bus, I climbed into the Jeep, and made off for my own days curriculum.

While sitting there half awake waiting for class to begin, Dr. Goodson (the aforementioned turbo prof.) came over, and sitting down next to me asked what my major was. To which I replied Professional Writing. This caused the man to wince. He asked why. I elaborated. Again, a wince. Having had enough of his subtle cringes, I decided to inquire what his interest was in regards to. He told me that my essay The Underside of Urbane was very well written, and wondered if there was anyway that I would consider switching my major to English, and that he would like me to join his masters program. He layed it on pretty thick.

He explained that the English Department was an aging group, due in part to the lack of young people interested in teaching it. He shared with me his frustration that a large portion of the English Dept. faculty are not native born speakers of the language, because American/NW European interest is systemically waning. He went on to say that it was frustrating to discover people such as myself, and later learn that we have no interest whatsoever in a professorship, and even less enthusiasm for teaching English.

I was flattered, but didn't really know how to respond. It's one thing to arrive at the personal conclusion that you have no business instructing others, but an entirely different animal when you are confronted by a professor whom you respect, and he suggests that you do; as if your destiny is somehow wrapped up in the notion.

I'll admit, I entertained the idea for a bit. That's just not me though. Or is it?

Another Casualty of War

2008-03-17T18:17:00.007-05:00

Last night, I received the nightmarish news. It was my brother on the phone calling to tell me that a childhood friend of ours has descended into Meth addiction, and is currently nowhere to be found. He went on to explain how "S" had returned from his tour of duty in Iraq, where he was stationed with the Marines, and had been experiencing PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). Apparently veteran affairs didn't give two craps about him, and he was not offered any exit counseling or therapy. Thrown to the dogs "S" picked up Crystal Meth as a means of coping.

First his wife left him, and then he was barred from visiting his children. Eventually he lost his job, his house, ... everything. His last known whereabouts was at a shelter run by Veteran Affairs, but he has since gone missing. His teeth are falling out, his skin is covered with self inflicted sores, and he's become a full-blown paranoid delusional. Word is, last family member to pay him a visit had the misfortune of using his bathroom, and as they exited the room they were met at the door with "S" shoving a handgun in their face while screaming 'I told you not to flush the toilet!!'

From Tim's perspective, "S" is like a brother. After the State slapped our parents with the neglect suit, which eventually led to Tim's emancipation, the two of them were inseparable. For those two boys, life on the street at the tender age of 14 bred a level of codependence akin to the bonds developed through warfare. Tim now feels it's his responsibility to track down "S" and try to save him. The call last night was more or less a plea for assistance in that endeavor. I love my brother dearly, and I have a great deal of respect for "S," but I don't know what to do.

I spent the better portion of the day researching methamphetamine addiction and it's effects, yet I feel no closer to understanding this than when I first began. The man is armed and dangerous, and judging by his physical deterioration, on the brink of death; indicating that his addiction is severely advanced. Odds are, if we do find him, he won't be receptive to anything that we have to say because he will no longer view us as equals, (not having been subjected to the war), and as anyone who's studied social psych will attest, that's what is necessary for any true communication to occur under duress.

It's been a very long time since I've felt this conflicted. Fuck this war and the lives that are being destroyed by it.

Looking Beneath the Surface

2008-03-11T10:17:00.002-05:00

For some time now I have been unable to write. Not for absence of ideas, but rather, lack of inspiration. On many an occasion I have sat here staring at the screen, willing myself to express just a shred of the mangled up mess of cognitive convolution that swirls endlessly in this cauldron I call self, but nothing ever makes the cut. Unlike some, I do not blog as a means of keeping a digital diary. I do not blog to discuss the trivialities of this, our shared existence. As time passes, I find myself growing ever more critical of what I choose to share. My intentions are neither to impress, nor cater to what I believe you want to hear, although I have been guilty of both in the past. Instead, I find myself weighing the relative substance of my message versus the time through which I might craft its delivery, and lately the two don't jive. However, inspiration always finds a way of slipping past the staunchest of defenses, and I am again moved to speak.

As many of you are well aware I am a bona fide Sci-Fi junkie. There's just something about broad philosophical statements coated in a robotic veneer that I find appealing. Recently, while fueling my habit through an episode of The Sarah Connor Chronicles, I was reminded of that which has become one of the paramount forces behind my desire to communicate and explore this human condition through prose. The message came packaged in the form of a monologue, and it went a little something like this:

So much danger in this world is hidden behind masks. We tell our children stories of good and evil, while knowing it's not that simple. True evil doesn't give us time to fight. We keep our heads down, never bothering to look behind the masks; and in so doing we resign ourselves to terrible fates we can never see coming.

There are no universal constants, no absolutes. The notion that our existence could ever be quantified through contrasts as stark as Black and White, is perhaps the grandest of all fictions. And yet, it remains our intention to do exactly that. Assumptions, generalizations, stereotypes; all part of the quest to remove critical thinking from our diets. We have developed ideologies and schools of thought, each claiming to provide all of life's answers; and we flock to them based on the allure of not having to reason things out for ourselves. But at what price?

Nuff' Talk, Let's Do This!

2008-03-04T08:07:00.006-05:00

1 in 100 Americans Jailed

2008-02-29T07:31:00.007-05:00

The Associated Press ran this story yesterday:

NEW YORK - For the first time in U.S. history, more than one of every 100 adults is in jail or prison, according to a new report documenting America’s rank as the world’s No. 1 incarcerator. It urges states to curtail corrections spending by placing fewer low-risk offenders behind bars.
Using state-by-state data, the report says 2,319,258 Americans were in jail or prison at the start of 2008 — one out of every 99.1 adults. Whether per capita or in raw numbers, it’s more than any other nation.
The report, released Thursday by the Pew Center on the States, said the 50 states spent more than $49 billion on corrections last year, up from less than $11 billion 20 years earlier. The rate of increase for prison costs was six times greater than for higher education spending, the report said.
Read On...

As America continues its Authoritarian slide, one can't help but wonder, how did we get here? In response, I humbly offer up a newsflash of my own: Lack of education/job opportunities + impoverished living conditions = crime.

A Leopard is Not Defined by Her Spots

2008-02-25T08:18:00.004-05:00

While breaking for lunch, I decided to see if there was anything worth watching on the tube. Surfing the channels in aimless avoidance of commercials, (I expect usually to find nothing), and by then my meal is finished. This time was different though. I happened across an oddly unique nature documentary that featured a lioness mothering an infant deer of some sort. It seems the lioness had lost her pride to catastrophic circumstance, and as sole survivor had undergone some degree of post traumatic stress, which it was believed contributed to her adopting the baby deer.

For days, and then weeks, researchers followed them. As time wore on, the lioness grew thinner, and the film crew was certain she would soon eat the baby deer. She did not. In fact, she did not feed herself for nearly a month, and it was only after the baby deer had died that she showed any interest in tending to her own needs. According to the researchers, over the course of the next year, she adopted five more deer.

What fascinates me is that this type of behavior on the part of the lion flies in the face of conventional wisdom. "Animals" are dumb, right? They don't experience love, and they certainly don't understand the concept of putting other individuals first. I mean, come on, they're "animals." Incapable of generating any thoughts beyond the primal... right?

The Urban Experience Is Less Than "Urbane"

2008-02-14T18:58:00.005-05:00

Pardon the lull folks, but the studying has been thick. Having trouble completing an assignment actually.

Using Bernstein's West Side Story, Crane's Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, & An Experiment In Misery, Melville's Bartelby the Scrivener, and Orwell's Down and Out in Paris and London... I'm being asked to construct an argument in favor of what it is about street life that is so "cool." Which of course most of us would have no problem doing. Only, these sources are wretched. With the exception of West Side Story, they all depict city-life as a rotten struggle. Needless to say my creative juices are spent, and my dissonance is through the roof. Every approach I have taken smacks of falsehood because to truly engage these texts, one cannot conclude that there is anything "cool" about urban living, within the realist context that these artists explore it.

If you are familiar with any of these works, let's chat, I'm in dire need of outside perspectives.

Affluenza

2008-02-07T10:16:00.000-05:00

There is a sickness on the loose, and it is spreading across the whole of Westernized society. Unlike other pathogens, this one infects virtually everyone, and once you’ve got it, you can go your entire life without knowing you had it. I am speaking of Affluenza "the disease of consumerism." Since mid-twentieth century, Affluenza has spread like wildfire throughout the Western world, leaving nothing in its wake but empty, lonely, unhappy people. In the United States, and elsewhere; there is this belief held by many (and validated through their actions) that life is just one big shopping spree. Fueled by thoughts of “I want,” “I need,” and “enough is never enough,” people are filling their lives at an alarming rate with “things” and then claiming later that their existence feels empty. It’s part of living in a consumerist culture. Prompted to “buy now - pay later” we are fast becoming a materialistic, greedy, and self-absorbed culture.

To put this into perspective; in 1958 only 4% of American households had dishwashers. That percentage has since increased to 50%. Similarly, in 1958 only 1% of the population had a television set, and that has risen to an astounding 97%. We fly 25 times more often than we used to just 30 years ago, and there are some of us who fly just to shop! Shopping malls have become the center of the community, and there are currently more malls in the U.S. than high schools. Studies have revealed that 70% of the American populous visits a shopping center at least once a week, and spends a weekly average of 6 hours shopping. This is due in part to the psychosis that we need more to feel good about ourselves.

Our entire orientation is based on comparison to others. Some theorize that because of this, we suffer feelings of inadequacy if our neighbor has the newest latest material good, and we don’t. Advertisers have keyed into this, and they prey on our misgivings of self-worth. We are bombarded with ads and commercials all designed to cause us to feel that we are not lovable without “stuff.” Especially prevalent among the youth (who on average have been witness to over 1 million commercials by the age of 20!), this is exemplified by adolescents who seek to boost their self-esteem through clothes, and ultimately are left without a sense of identity to prepare them for life as an adult, and in the end, they often perpetuate this shallow behavior for decades.

We are in constant competition with each other to have the best of the best, even when we can’t afford it. So we increase our consumption by working more and saving less, until we experience what is known as “possession overload.” Life becomes taken up, by taking care of “things” instead of people. The more we have, the more we must keep track of. Relationships suffer as we slowly become owned by our “stuff.” People become disposable. If you don’t give me pleasure, I’ll just get rid of you for someone newer, better. But those who fall victim to this treatment are not limited to people we know, or who are in our immediate circles. Volunteerism is on a huge decline, because people just don’t have the time anymore; it’s all spent working to pay off their ridiculously large debts.

It is important to point out that prior to the twentieth century; the word “consumption” had a very negative connotation. It was used to describe the act of exhausting something completely, burning out, or an ending. Yet this has been twisted in the modern age to suit the needs of a free market economy that wants you to believe that “consuming” every last dime in your pocket, in the pursuit of artificial happiness, is the meaning of life. However money and “things” will never bring us lasting happiness. They never have, and they never will. We need to change our ways, and we need to do so now. The United States for example, represents only 4.55% of the world’s overall population, and we consume 25% of the Earth’s resources, and if we continue down this path, there will be nothing left to consume.

Multi-linguistic Conundrum

2008-02-06T08:05:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I attended a lecture that discussed the pros and cons surrounding assimilation versus pluralism. When asked what are a few cultural elements that would be affected by either of these processes, the standard responses were given: clothing, language, music, religion, customs, social norms, and so on. Choosing to focus on language, Dr. Zaki went into a long explanation of why it was necessary for non-indigenous peoples to learn the language of whatever foreign culture they choose to live in. But, I'll be honest with you all, I have heard this so many times that eventually her words turned into the muffled "blah - blah - blah" that we are all familiar with. Instead of being able to listen, I found myself focusing on my own thoughts of language as it relates to cultural assimilation versus pluralism. What I am left with is a single question that I'd like to pose to you all, and see what you think.

Why is it, that if an academic type has a working knowledge of 3+ languages, we refer to her/him as brilliant; but if a non-academic type is bilingual, Western society often looks down on them as being somehow stupid or rude?

Feel free to discuss.

Check It Out!

2008-02-05T12:33:00.000-05:00

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Quote From the Heart

2008-02-04T15:18:00.000-05:00

Francis has invited me to share in the From the Heart mimetic. The idea behind this, is that participants 'post a quote that speaks from and to their heart and dedicate it to at least three other bloggers.'

Since I am always second guessing myself, my purpose, my ability even to write; I will share a quote that in the past has bolstered my confidence and solidified my resolve.

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." ~ Dr. Seuss

And now to invite 3 others:

Alicia @ Yo-Yo Philosopher
Carol @ My View Of "It"
James @ Nourishing Obscurity

Time to Get Serious

2008-02-01T18:00:00.000-05:00

I had big plans regarding this day, the beginning of Black History month. Had all sorts of ideas floating around my head the month preceding this. Now that it's actually here, I am at a loss. I want to speak to so many issues, but they are all so convoluted and twisted up inside me. So many emotions vying for page time. For now I will just say that there is still a lot of work to be done towards civil rights, and the struggle for equality. This fight does not end at our borders though, it extends across the entire globe. I hope that you all will join me during this next month in observing the essence of why these days have been set aside, and in discussing the ways that we can help restore balance to our family.

I know that Black History month is about commemorating the heroes of our past, and praising their efforts. I know too that it's set aside to honor their sacrifices so that we never forget exactly what they were fighting for. But when I see a video like this, it reminds me that what we are celebrating is distinctly American in scope, and that all these problems still exist in our world! I know that there are those who will accuse me of being naive in thinking that there will ever be an answer to humanities woes, and I know also that others will discredit my sentiment by pointing out that I speak from a position of privilege. Bottom line is, so long as anything on this blog causes you to think.... mission accomplished.

What's Your Tropical Disease?

2008-01-31T18:17:00.000-05:00

I am continually amazed by how so little, can go such a long way. Most recently, through a tale shared of an American doctorate student in Zambia. Having contracted a disease, the student found that the local medical facilities were not prepared to deal with such an illness. He was surprised to learn that the standard procedure was simply to try and make those who had been infected as comfortable as possible while they died. The student wrote home, urgently requesting that his sister mail him the best textbook she could find covering "tropical diseases." The book not only saved his life, but revolutionized that particular Zambian facility where it is often referenced, helping to save the lives of many who might otherwise be dead.

There are so many directions I could go in talking about this, that I am at a loss where to even begin. Part of me wants to focus on the raw and copious privilege experienced by the American student, but then I remind myself that former Zambian President Kenneth Kaunda (this happened while Kaunda was in office) also experienced privilege, and certainly had access to medical textbooks, and even more so than the student, had the wealth and power necessary to procure them. So why didn't he? I believe that these two types of privilege intersect.

Why did the student seek to supply the hospital with the text? Was it because he wanted to do so out of some sort of altruistic kindness? Or was it because he had fallen victim, and feared for his life? Comparatively, although great privilege can also be attributed to Kenneth Kaunda, he was no more interested in his own countries' state of medical readiness than a random foreigner. Yet, had it been Kaunda that fell prey to the disease, would he not have acted similarly, in order to preserve his own life?

As I ponder this, my thoughts wander to Durkheim. You all are probably familiar with his theory that society is like a living organism. That each individual within the community is a cell, contributing to the functionality of the greater whole. On the one hand, Durkheim used this to explain the necessity of having a division of labor. While on the other, he made a compelling argument that because we are all connected, metaphorically, groups are a lot like organs. If one is damaged or hurting, then this would eventually have a cascading effect throughout the rest of the body, or rather, society.

Still, we harbor these strange notions that we are disconnected from the rest of the world. We speak of walls and borders as if these were capable of further ensuring a disablement of that connection, when in reality we are all inseparably linked. It is because of this that I am at a loss to understand why ignorance seems to be a prevailing condition of privilege. Because if privilege is truly self-interested, then doesn't it stand to reason that somewhere, somehow, the logic of self preservation would kick in? Resulting in the powers that be taking a greater interest in the well-being of the whole?

And yet we wait, until a situation is so far gone, all we can do is react. Like children, plugging dams with nothing but their thumbs, and a quick 'phew' as brows are wiped, *one more crisis averted*. I realize there are many who would love to associate privilege and power with conspiracy theory, but as time passes, the fat that floats to the top appears to be more or less unchecked stupidity. Played like this, it's a defeatist's game, and there can be no winners.

Synchronicity Is In Fine Form This Day

2008-01-30T13:31:00.000-05:00

Isn't it curious how one thing seems bound to lead into the next, and so on? Almost enough for me to believe that chaos is orderly. Again, perhaps it is only me, willing these paths to reveal themselves, choosing to set foot onto them from the beginning. At any rate, seemingly all that I do contains connections; overlaps. But how can this be? I am not consciously seeking to discover these linkages. When they reveal themselves I sit back, dumbfounded at the beauty and intricacy with which the unraveled had been originally woven. So too have I come to believe that there is no autonomy. No originality. We build on what has been. Adeptly molding it to suit our will, yet utterly borrowed to the last. And if not, then the process of inception is categorically simultaneous with some other, equal, who too is traveling the path. And so, I continue to ponder the question of how it could be that such isolation, such alienation can exist amongst us, when truly we are one.

A Bus With No Stops

2008-01-29T11:58:00.000-05:00

There are times when I fail to see the value of isolationism. Or maybe more so that I lose sight of my socialization, in favor of what "feels" right, versus what strikes me as wrong. Every smile that goes unreturned, each gaze that is not held. I stand and wait for the bus; when I speak all ignore me. I board the bus, where all are silent, keeping to themselves, looking downward or out the windows. We exit the bus and all walk quietly alone towards our classes. Waiting for the class to begin, more of the same: silence. Often, I feel a sort of isolation, even among large groups of people. They are scared. Afraid to be themselves, to show any qualities that might prove to be different, extraordinary, unique. We socially condemn those who we consider "outsiders," yet we offer scant welcome by way of encouraging them to be otherwise. The perpetuation of selfishness as a philosophical tenant confuses me.

I have often said: 'In this life; it is important to make yourself happy, without hurting others.' This has been a mantra of mine since long before I even knew such a thing as Objectivism existed. And now I learn that certain scholars have come to empirically link laissez-faire capitalism, and free market economy, to objectivist theory!? If you are not familiar with these concepts, just think conservative. Laissez-faire which in French means "let happen," is centered around the belief that:

"The state has no responsibility to engage in intervention to maintain a desired wealth distribution or to create a welfare state to protect people from poverty, instead relying on charity and the market system. Laissez-faire also embodies the notion that a government should not be in the business of granting privileges." ~ (lifted from Wikipedia)

And yet, this ideology has been associated with Libertarianism as well. Such that, when one really takes the time to investigate these theories, one truth emerges: there are no sides, no teams, and any sense you might have of there being a bi-partisan system of government within the United States is purely delusional. A song and dance, a dog and pony show, no more no less. They identify themselves as being members of different teams, but both sides are playing the same game! Capitalism.

The real victim in all of this is Objectivism. It has been so twisted and distorted that one is hard pressed to understand the original meaning. This neo-objectivism would be enough to have the great John Locke turning in his grave if he were to witness what has become of his ideas. Not to mention Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who I am quite certain did not intend for Western society to erode to such a morally desolate wasteland when he created his social contract theory.

"Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains. One man thinks himself the master of others, but remains more of a slave than they." Rousseau claimed that the state of nature was a primitive condition without law or morality, which human beings left for the benefits and necessity of cooperation. As society developed, division of labour and private property required the human race to adopt institutions of law. In the degenerate phase of society, man is prone to be in frequent competition with his fellow men while at the same time becoming increasingly dependent on them. This double pressure threatens both his survival and his freedom. ~ (again borrowed from Wiki)

Ok, so here we are. We have laws. Or do we? Seems to me justice serves only the almighty dollar. If you have enough juice, you exist in a state that is above the law.

Recall that when Socrates was sentenced to death for "inciting the youth," he had enough clout that the Athenian magistrates gave him one last chance. They wanted to strike a deal. If only Socrates were to leave Athens and never return, he would be allowed to live. But Socrates did not leave. He refused to do so on the basis of an awareness that were he allowed to leave, after having been condemned to death; this would send the message to the Athenian peoples that the law was not binding, and was not to be respected. In essence, that justice was an illusion.

I don't even know where I am going with any of this at this point. Just what's been on my mind today. As always, your thoughts are appreciated.

An Explanation of Class Inequality

2008-01-27T15:27:00.000-05:00

There are some things that no matter how I try to explain them, will fall on deaf ears, because at the end of the day, I'm simply a student. I have no qualifications, and my words are easily dismissed. This has been excerpted from a text I am currently reading. To many, this information is (or should be) common knowledge. Yet there are so few who believe it.

Stratification and Ideology

The power of a dominant class or ethnic group is not simply the power of force but also the power to propound and sustain an ideology that legitimizes the system of inequality. Although coercion is always at the root of obedience to authority, and all dominant groups use force when the need arises, coercive techniques are commonly used only in societies where the prevailing system is not accepted by a significant part of the populace.

The use of raw force alone, however, cannot be effective in prompting compliance with a system of inequality over long periods. The stability of systems that rely primarily on coercion is always precarious. For government and other supportive institutions of the dominant group to establish and maintain ruling system that is popularly supported over many generations requires that power be legitimized in less repressive and less direct ways. In protecting their privileges, dominant groups try to engender loyalty and respect among subordinates, not fear (Jackman, 1994).

People must come to see the inequalities in power and wealth as just and even socially beneficial. Only then do systems of social inequality attain stability. When this is accomplished, ruling groups need no longer resort to force as the principle means of assuring their power and privilege. Such long-range stability and legitimacy require the development of an effective ideology and its communication through socialization.

Despite their acceptance -- usually reflexively -- by both ruling groups and masses, the fundamental ideological values tend to accommodate mostly the interests of the society's ruling groups. In the United States, for example, the dominant explanation for social inequality centers on the belief that the society's opportunity structure is open, providing equal chances for all to achieve material success or political power, regardless of their social origins. This presumably being the case, each person controls his or her placement in the social hierarchy.

Social success, then, is explained as the result of one's willingness to work hard; failure is the product of lack of ambition or desire to improve oneself. Differences in wealth and power are not denied, but they are seen as the result of individual factors rather than the workings of a class system that ordinarily engenders success for the well born and failure for the poor. In reality, however, the opportunity structure is hardly equal, and the dominant values of individualism, competition, and achievement favor those who are wealthy and can easily avail themselves of the opportunities for success. The social system then, tends to favor those who are already wealthy and powerful.

~ Race & Ethnic Relations: American and Global Perspectives // Martin N. Marger

Food for thought.

Open Your Eyes, Immigration is NOT an Issue

2008-01-24T18:16:00.000-05:00

Climate aside, without a doubt the great white elephant casting its shadow on the West is the issue of immigration. Regardless of what you have been told, or what you think you know about immigration, the reality at the core, is that immigration is a multi-ethnic class struggle. No where is this more visible than in the United States where an estimated 12 million migrant workers shed their blood, sweat, and tears; hoping as did all our ancestors that one day they too will be accepted into the fold and allowed to pursue the "American Dream." Yet, this land of plenty grows increasingly closed as opportunity is replaced by concrete ceilings; a sort of ethnic stucco full of unfair expectations, limiting (when not preventing) social mobility for those who do not share the luxury of having been born within this "land of the free. "

Despite what you may believe, immigration does not wear a Latino face, or any one guise. People from every ethnic group, every nationality, every religious affiliation, seek to share in America's prosperity and they are willing to break their backs performing the most distasteful of jobs in order to earn their keep, and yet, rarely are any of their efforts rewarded. A.C. Goodson, in his essay Outsourcing Malthus (2006) summarizes the plight of the contemporary immigrant in Western society in very forthright terms when he writes:

What is the immigrant if not a beast of burden? In his functional animality lies the root of the domestic issue with immigration in general. For he presents us with the human face reduced to servility if not outright slavery. And this is our own face, though we deny it by assigning it an alien identity. The effacement of the human in the condition of the immigrant is a threat to our human dignity. The offense is psychic more than ideological, for our residual humanism does not permit us to exclude this face from Homo sapiens. We accept immigrants on the same terms that our cotton-planting ancestors accepted their slaves, and for the same reasons. Their labor is our economic ease. They pick our fruit, maintain our estates, nurse our children, support our early retirement. In the case of illegal immigrants, some twelve million in the US, they pay social security taxes for benefits that they will never receive. In effect, they pay us not to work. What they ask for this thankless submission to the yoke is a modicum of personal respect. They would like to be considered as persons, not oxen. They would like their children to go to US schools, to become US citizens. Many would like to speak Spanish in public, to celebrate the Cinco de Mayo without fear of persecution by the authorities. It seems little enough.

The key to understanding why immigrants are rarely (if ever) awarded citizenship, is firmly entrenched in the socioeconomic reality that more citizens equate to a need for the government to provide more services, and even more critically important to the Wall Street power brokers: an increase in social security benefit pay-outs.

In the United States, demography can no longer be represented through the classic population pyramid. This is because the U.S. has reached a state of age based demographic stability that causes any would-be pyramid to appear more like a rectangle when drawn. That is to say, the birth rate is equal to the death rate. However, this is not without anomaly. In the middle of the "population rectangle" is a massive lump, providing it a look similar to that of a snake that has just swallowed something very large. This lump is in fact, the "baby boomer" generation, and it has been estimated that within the next decade, more than 30% of the American populous will be retired, and looking to collect their social security benefits. Combine this eventuality with the increased longevity enjoyed in the Western world due to advances of the medical sciences, and what emerges is a crisis!

Yet, to refer to anything as a being a "crisis" implies that there is no known solution, and that is simply not the case where immigration and social security cross paths. Earlier, I referred to this as a "socioeconomic class problem," and although the reasoning behind that should be obvious, I will elaborate by using the United States as an example. In the U.S. only a finite portion of an individual's gross income is open to being garnished towards the social security tax fund. Any income beyond $100,000 is sheltered from contribution. This translates into the middle and lower class (as well as migrant workers) shouldering a vastly disproportionate load of the socioeconomic burden. Leading into the logical, and entirely fair assertion that our world (not just the West) is in need of a radical redistribution of wealth, and a systemic overhaul of all the various political ideologies that view social stratification and inequality as models for success!!

Personally, I am sick to death of hearing about entitlement. "I work hard, and therefore, I deserve to drive this Hummer. I deserve to live in a house that has three bathrooms. I deserve to shove all manner of food down my gullet until my offending verbosity reaches critical mass, and then, after my heart attack, I deserve the best 24/7 medical care that money can buy!" What about the hundreds of thousands of people in India, for example, who work from sunrise to sunset, only to come home to a shanty made of cardboard walls and a roof that is little more than a sheet of plastic. No running water, no electricity, eating whatever garbage they can scavenge throughout the day. Do these people "deserve" to exist in this fashion? Are they "entitled," through their hard labor, to nothing more than this? Should they be condemned to this lifestyle simply because they were born into it? Please try to understand, that to deny them the right to emigrate away from such impoverished conditions, is the equivalent of believing that they deserve to be there.

The point I am trying to make here is this. The reason that immigration is a "problem" in North America and elsewhere, is because the economic elite do not want to share their prosperity with anyone they don't absolutely need to. This is how they amassed their wealth in the first place, so it should come as no surprise to us now that this attitude remains alive and well within their ranks. And I find myself asking when is enough ever enough? This is far beyond issues of wealth and creature comfort. There are homeless people in the United States that live as Kings and Queens compared to those elsewhere who are truly impoverished. No, this is about power and control. A maintaining of the status quo. If the powers that be, the old world money had half a soul, they could erase disease, hunger, poverty... and STILL be wealthy. But, as Saul Williams once said: "You can't make billions of dollars in this world without hurting people."