Delayed sleep-phase syndrome. Part One.
Inspired by actually events. Much like the delay in uploading, and the brevity of the posts themselves.
Delayed sleep-phase syndrome. Part One.
Inspired by actually events. Much like the delay in uploading, and the brevity of the posts themselves.
Word of the day: nosh.
Spent all night in the studio. I did this to do that. My love to the potato chips that died in the name of art.
Word of the day: Aphotic!
A good example of a word that, once broken down into its component parts, doesn’t sound as impressively archaic.
The word of the day, and all attached text, have been shamelessly stolen from dictionary.com.
Switching to standard lined paper, rather than the kindergarten-style guided paper, feels good. There is definitely some sloppiness from not having a top or center line; however, the letters feel less alien to form when it is left to my brain to decide what proportions I desire. My left hand may still be unfamiliar with the process of mark making, but years of writing on lined paper have definitely trained my brain to understand whatever mental calculations are needed to tell my hand how to make it look correct.
Unfortunately, the lovely blue pens that I like to use have always bled into the paper to a significant degree. Now that I have to write at a smaller scale, I’ve switched to a thin micron that was hiding in my Pens The Are Useless For What I Like Doing drawer.
Yes. I really do have this drawer. It’s divided between drawing and writing pens. I get snippy when it’s jostled and the two sides mix.
Crap. Now I need to make a divider.
I came across this word back when I was using the Wikipedia entries on volition and motivation. It was saved with the intention of continuing the trend, but I was starting to burn out and switched back to short clips.
This is the whole of appetition’s entry, and the word itself is one of those that has gone so far out of use that standard spell-check software gets all angry and squiggly at the sight of it. This alone makes me want to hug the word and play scrabble, if only for the chance to use it.
Looking back at the volition entry, I can see why it’s been swept under the rug. The need to specify—to divide motivation from volition, for example—already suffers a great deal of overlap, and thus creates confusion. This confusion was my exact reason for being fascinated by the entries in the first place: the need to break down and define despite the gut understanding of a thing is an interesting dichotomy. It seems to me that wisdom must stem from an ability to trust ones gut in all matters, but still be able to break that feeling down and analyze it at whatever point analysis become safe and/or necessary.
I’m also fascinated by this quote regarding Aristotle’s division of desires. I would have expected a greater degree of scorn for the irrational and an elevation of the rational. This, however, suggests the idea that anything rational is, by nature, so very artificial in construction that such desires can only arise from what one has been taught by an outside source. By elimination, that says that everything we come to desire though our own through process must be irrational. Given the rational-good/irrational-bad bias that I’ve already stated, this reads to me like and exultation of authority and derision regarding the personal viewpoint. Only, this feels counteracted by the language used to describe the rational, which I read as rather negative in nature.
However, trying to look beyond this bias and simply defining “rational” as a process of reason—aka thinking through things— it takes on a different flavor. Our bodies know themselves, even when we do not. We don’t have to break anything down in order to understand drives such as hunger, fear, or arousal. We do not generally have to think to know what we want; though often we do to know why we want it.
But we don’t often know other people, and when we do, it’s after a good deal of effort. So cohesive rationale such as systems of law and religion, or common languages, act as webs that help us tie ourselves to other people with less effort. We learn to think in similar ways, partially, by inducing similar desires in a set of people. In doing so, we simulate the innate (irrational or thought-independent) understanding of our own drives by creating a method of making generally accurate assumptions (rational or reasoned-through) about other people.
And this whole breakdown either falls apart, or is strengthened by the concept of automatic empathic accuracy: a case of knowing, without analysis, exactly what another is feeling. Though, off the top of my head, I can’t think of many moments in which I’ve had such a case occur with a stranger, unless that stranger had remarkable similarities to previous close acquaintances. Though, such cases, across the friendship board, have become far more common as I’ve gotten older and gained greater experience with a wider variety of people. So, perhaps, the earlier breakdown has more to do with building a foundation for understanding.
Crap. Tangent into communication and the thought train isn’t staying connected to the concept of desire. No cookie for me.
For the earworm
I heard He is We's Kiss It All Better through the selecting power of Pandora, and remembered it because it left me bawling like a heartbroken school girl. I made the mistake of hitting the thumbs up, and now live in minor terror of being hit upside the head with a weapy stick while I’m working.
My brain appears to be compensating for this weakness by repeating the chorus over and over and over, and thus I’m sharing it with you.
I considered writing out the whole of the song’s lyrics. However, upon reading them, I realized that they’re not what makes this song jerk at me. It is, very specifically, the ache in the chorus; a combination of the words and the way it’s sung.
Satyagraha and a side-by-side comparison. Also, books.
The break made a serious impact on my control-to-speed ratio, with this particular exercise taking over an hour to complete. This is contrasted against the last paragraph, which was written by good ol’ Righty in under five minutes, despite being half the length of the rest of the exercise. What’s worse is that I don’t see any real difference in legibility level. One’s tense, the other’s scrawly; both are going to give people issues unless a primer or analogous experience—such as crazy Aunt Marge’s grocery list—has them ready to see words in the loops and points.
It was, however, remarkably relaxing to—after the long labor of good ol’ Lefty—to feel the freedom of writing a block of text with my dominant hand. I haven’t done much non-journal-related writing in the last month, and the relaxation of the mark making was highly enjoyable. Because I’m both a dork.
I’ve been listening through the audiobooks of the Ender’s Saga books by Orson Scott Card. They’re interestingly varied in tone, and the changes to the author’s voice, approach, and general mindset feel undeniably clear as I move from section to section. While Ender’s Game is definitely the stand-alone masterpiece of the series, I found that books 2-4 were the ones that kept me seeking out tasks to occupy my hands so that I didn’t have to turn off the tape. Something about the long periods of time spent analyzing what it is to be human from an ever-widening series of perspectives as a family tries to grow up together. Because I’m oh so very much in my late 20s.
I do, however, have a hard time relating to the later books in the same way. The stories that follow life on earth after the events of Ender’s Game have a black-and-white element to some of the key characters which, for me, removes the sympathy that I want to have for all the players.
Tonight’s exercise comes from a section in Shadow of The Hegemon, book 6, in which the word satyagraha is artfully used to express the philosophy of doing whatever it takes to do the right thing, even when great suffering is the inevitable result. It’s not much of a spoiler to say that the motivation of the speaking character is rooted in trying to convince herself to sacrifice her own life if it means removing a destructive force from the world.
In listening to this passage, I was utterly seduced by the concept as it was presented. I interpreted it as the ultimate acceptance of responsibility for going through life in a worthy manner. Of accepting that life is not, and will never be, easy. That you must sometimes suffer, or simply place yourself in an uncomfortable place, to be true to who you want to be.
However, when looking up my go-to wikipedia-entry approach for the exercise, I was presented with a very different interpretation of the idea. Or, a very similar, but highly distinct, original idea from which Mr. Card (Scott Card? Not sure what all is the last name here) draw his reference. For, in the book, both violence and a deception were intrinsic to the actions of the characters involved in the scene. There was a strong implication that you must do whatever it takes to do what is right. The original concept, however, does not seem to allow for either the use of either harm or lying.
Disclaimer: Granted, I’m basing this off of a wikipedia article and have no extensive knowledge of the history or philosophy surrounding this concept.
Regardless, the discrepancy between the book’s use of the term, and the core ideology of the term, was quite jarring, and I must admit to a small sense of betrayal. As I write this, I’m inclined to credit this feeling to the fact that I never really do shut up; my brain never stops analyzing. This doesn’t allow for many absolutes in life—everything gets broken into shades of gray too often—and an idea that can be universally applied to all situations without seeming to muddy any waters… well, like I said. Seductive, and therefore inviting emotional commitment. After all, it was simply referring to what is Right. It leaves the definition of Right up to the audience.
In reflection, it’s a very thoughtful choice for a character who feels a profound degree of self hatred for the deception and the failure to sacrifice her own life for the Good Of All. Taking Ghandi’s philosophy to heart serves as a deep form of self-flagellation. A sense of, “I have failed to make the sacrifices because I have placed my desire to live above the good of others. I cannot make amends for not doing the right thing from the start, but I can strive to be better, even if I must adapt this idea to my situation in a way that violate is very tenets. If, in adapting it, my suffering is greater than it might otherwise have been, then it is no less than I deserve.”
Have I mentioned that these books are full of horribly annoying women? Because, in case you didn’t know, they’re full of horribly annoying women. Thankfully, they’re usually annoying in the way of ridiculously human caricatures. Made a bit hyper-realistic to emphasize very understandable, and ultimately interesting, flaws in the personalities. Still, I’ll use the word annoying again because, in seven books, the only female character that’s kept my respect regardless of time passing has been a computer program.
Have I ever mentioned that I spell explanation wrong every time? And have to rely on the red squigly to catch me? The only exception in current memory is when I wrote it in this paragraph. Because, apparently, thinking about something with a good deal of your attention is a fantastic way to prevent silly mistakes. Surprise!
I’m blaming the sabbatical on time travel. To celebrate, here’s the introductory paragraph from the wikipedia entry’s section on paradoxes. There’s much, much more on that page than I would have seriously thought possible. It’s also all so dull that I refuse to write much more from the entry, unless at a loss for exercise ideas.
I said 365 days, and I meant it. I just never said which 365 days it would be.
On awesome game gimmicks.
Everything I’ve done to develop writing with my left hand goes to crap if I try to write while standing.
I’ve been planning to switch away from my current guides when I reach day 100, as they’re probably helping me build bad habits. This issue with standing merely reinforces my sense of my own intelligence. Yay my brain.
I love me my games, and I love me my MMOs. After reading reviews, I’ve been considering trying out Star Wars: The Old Republic. Unfortunately, despite reviews, I do not love me my non-gaming-genre franchise games. They just feel… wrong.
However, after stumbling across the review of the upcoming Legacy system, I gave in completely. Why? Because I always, always do this with my characters.
If the game has a story, and I’m going to replay it a few times (or roll different characters), then I need a reason for my multiple toons to exist in the gaming world together. Most of the time, they’re all sisters, adopted family, or childhood friends. This goes so far as to dictate appearance choices across multiple playthroughs. Having an MMO development team implement an important part of my personal role playing experience is just too good to pass up. The geekout is palpable.
Besides, I’ve always liked those aliens with the two head tentacles. Hopefully they can be bad guys.
On prescription medication.
Between being diabetic and simply being genetically unlucky, I have a tiny gaggle of prescription medications that I need to keep refilled. Being unemployed and lacking insurance, I tend to space these out accross the month. This keeps me from withdrawing a massive percentage of my savings at any one point. The practice is more for my emotional well-being than for practicality.
Unfortunately, every now and then, there’s a communication glitch with my medication providers, and the refilling process become difficult and stressful. Sometimes it’s my fault, sometimes it’s theirs. The important part is that nobody wins.
I did this while frustrated by just such a delay. This is exactly one-half of the various warning labels on my various Boxes of Stuff.
Healthy must be fun.
*cue unrepentant emo glare*
Best to-the-point quote ever.
An independently organized TED talk, given by Peter Saul, called Let’s Talk About Dying. It goes over the changes to death, and quality of life, the have occurred as a result of the reliance on intensive care as a method of prolonging said life. It then goes on to express worry over the frightening fact that families and patients don’t seem to do a very good job of accepting that plans for death need to be made in order to make it a less traumatizing experience, and in order to guarantee the greatest degree of comfort and dignity for those approaching the end of their lives.
He does a lovely job of retaining the graveness of the subject matter, but also alleviating the seriousness so that an audience is less likely to shut off mid-way through.
This quote, from Gloria Steinem, made me laugh out loud in the middle of the video, and is now on my fridge.