http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/contemporary-psychoanalysis-in-action/201411/why-we-cant-make-our-minds
Friday, November 14, 2014
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Decision fatigue or analysis paralysis
Analysis paralysis is a term I've first encountered while watching a Tabletop Deathmatch video. The term describes a situation where plethora of choices and search for the best solution causes a "system failure" and prevents one from making any decision altogether.
Today I've stumbled upon this article about the same problem, from Slate. It describes the phenomenon and suggests some ways to deal with them. I smiled when I read about shopping after work, it made me think of you.
Of interest was linking excessive self-control with decision-making difficulties and how that turns into apathy and inaction, as well as final comments about your beliefs and their effects... Like we have free will!
Today I've stumbled upon this article about the same problem, from Slate. It describes the phenomenon and suggests some ways to deal with them. I smiled when I read about shopping after work, it made me think of you.
Of interest was linking excessive self-control with decision-making difficulties and how that turns into apathy and inaction, as well as final comments about your beliefs and their effects... Like we have free will!
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Why You Were Right About Updike and The Reason Why I Enjoyed "Rabbit, Run" and Philip Marlowe novels, or the Great Male Narcissists
David Foster Wallace committed this piece on the occasion of "Towards the End of Time" premiere for Observer in 1997.
I have read "Rabbit Redux" for my American lit. class in early two thousands, and "Rabbit, Run" a bit later (for pleasure). I enjoyed both very much, especially the latter. Updike's writing was somewhat of a revelation to me: I thought it the most "realistic" thing I've read. What it meant was that the voice of the protagonist might as well have been my own. Of course, it wasn't the only reason why I enjoyed the book: the language is impeccable, and though Harry sometimes does things that I find repulsive, I also found some hitherto unknown liberation in the sprawling lines of the novel. The dirty thoughts, the filthy deeds - for a middle-class middle-aged man - everything was represented with shocking honesty and, it seems to me now, though I may be misremembering things, acceptance. Or was it approval? This recognition of human imperfections was to me, at the time, almost a revelation, and as it is with revelations, I've failed to recognize it for what it was. At least I failed to see the narcissism, self-indulgence and focus on male sexuality that Wallace decries in his essay. The reason why I didn't see it that way was because I've recognized myself in Angstrom's (or Updike's) attitude - only I've never acted on it, having too much Chandler in me (and I don't mean the alcohol).
Those two may actually be much more alike than one might think at first; Marlowe's chivalry is arguably accompanied by contempt for women (or sex, which he seems to equate with them, or at least cannot think of women without thinking of sex - clearly showing his obsession and repressed libido). He readily admits it himself: "You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. I had one from women. Women made me sick." Notice the alcohol analogy. If one remembers that Chandler was a heavy drinker, a clearly conflicted attitude towards women is implied here: he's as much drawn to them as repelled, so one could say perhaps that for Marlow a woman is not a virgin or a whore, but a virgin and a whore at the same time. In early books, starting with "The Big Sleep", the private detective's reactions to seduction attempts are strong, even violent. The most vivid example is the scene where he finds Carmen Sternwood naked in his bed: he throws her out and tears the bed to pieces - something that Williams (in Raymond Chandler: a life) describes as an act of anger. When I first read the book, it appeared to me as an act of frustration. (That's the closure McCloud writes about in "Understanding Comics", only made possible with Chandler's exquisite style!)
It shouldn't come as a surprise, given the close, long and dependent relationship between Chandler and his mother, that his perception of women was one of admiration and reverence on one hand, and of disgust and contempt on the other. Woman is set on a pedestal, and it is not a sexual object, but the sexuality draws a man towards women nonetheless. In case of Marlowe, I think this internal conflict makes him an interesting character. However, with time I find it harder and harder to recommend his books to people - because of his attitude towards women and people of colour (regardless of it being to some point representative of his times).
Updike's character seems to be a sex-crazed narcissist who objectifies women. (But is it really so?) Neither of the writers appears to treat women as equal to men; they're merely accessories that allow to make a statement about the male protagonist. I haven't read enough Updike to say it about everything he wrote, but I'll trust Wallace on this one.
This brings back an old dilemma in the balance of form and content. I used to believe that form outweighs content without question. Now I'm not so sure. I still love brilliantly written books and songs with objectionable content. What I can't figure out is this: do I keep reading/listening, even though I believe the ideas presented in the otherwise excellent work are wrong? That is one of the reasons why I began to lean towards instrumental music at some point: I couldn't take the lyrics and their effect on me anymore.
So perhaps you already knew that about Updike, or maybe just felt it without verbalizing, but Wallace's opinion seems to agree with yours.
I have read "Rabbit Redux" for my American lit. class in early two thousands, and "Rabbit, Run" a bit later (for pleasure). I enjoyed both very much, especially the latter. Updike's writing was somewhat of a revelation to me: I thought it the most "realistic" thing I've read. What it meant was that the voice of the protagonist might as well have been my own. Of course, it wasn't the only reason why I enjoyed the book: the language is impeccable, and though Harry sometimes does things that I find repulsive, I also found some hitherto unknown liberation in the sprawling lines of the novel. The dirty thoughts, the filthy deeds - for a middle-class middle-aged man - everything was represented with shocking honesty and, it seems to me now, though I may be misremembering things, acceptance. Or was it approval? This recognition of human imperfections was to me, at the time, almost a revelation, and as it is with revelations, I've failed to recognize it for what it was. At least I failed to see the narcissism, self-indulgence and focus on male sexuality that Wallace decries in his essay. The reason why I didn't see it that way was because I've recognized myself in Angstrom's (or Updike's) attitude - only I've never acted on it, having too much Chandler in me (and I don't mean the alcohol).
Those two may actually be much more alike than one might think at first; Marlowe's chivalry is arguably accompanied by contempt for women (or sex, which he seems to equate with them, or at least cannot think of women without thinking of sex - clearly showing his obsession and repressed libido). He readily admits it himself: "You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. I had one from women. Women made me sick." Notice the alcohol analogy. If one remembers that Chandler was a heavy drinker, a clearly conflicted attitude towards women is implied here: he's as much drawn to them as repelled, so one could say perhaps that for Marlow a woman is not a virgin or a whore, but a virgin and a whore at the same time. In early books, starting with "The Big Sleep", the private detective's reactions to seduction attempts are strong, even violent. The most vivid example is the scene where he finds Carmen Sternwood naked in his bed: he throws her out and tears the bed to pieces - something that Williams (in Raymond Chandler: a life) describes as an act of anger. When I first read the book, it appeared to me as an act of frustration. (That's the closure McCloud writes about in "Understanding Comics", only made possible with Chandler's exquisite style!)
It shouldn't come as a surprise, given the close, long and dependent relationship between Chandler and his mother, that his perception of women was one of admiration and reverence on one hand, and of disgust and contempt on the other. Woman is set on a pedestal, and it is not a sexual object, but the sexuality draws a man towards women nonetheless. In case of Marlowe, I think this internal conflict makes him an interesting character. However, with time I find it harder and harder to recommend his books to people - because of his attitude towards women and people of colour (regardless of it being to some point representative of his times).
Updike's character seems to be a sex-crazed narcissist who objectifies women. (But is it really so?) Neither of the writers appears to treat women as equal to men; they're merely accessories that allow to make a statement about the male protagonist. I haven't read enough Updike to say it about everything he wrote, but I'll trust Wallace on this one.
This brings back an old dilemma in the balance of form and content. I used to believe that form outweighs content without question. Now I'm not so sure. I still love brilliantly written books and songs with objectionable content. What I can't figure out is this: do I keep reading/listening, even though I believe the ideas presented in the otherwise excellent work are wrong? That is one of the reasons why I began to lean towards instrumental music at some point: I couldn't take the lyrics and their effect on me anymore.
So perhaps you already knew that about Updike, or maybe just felt it without verbalizing, but Wallace's opinion seems to agree with yours.
Fun things in daily life
1. Waking up to a song you like
2. Scented bath
3. Tea and sweets
4. Carousing
5. Reading a book upside down for mental exercise
6. Touching your loved one when no one is looking
7. Browsing lists
8. Throwing things into your garbage can
9. Playing games
10. Writing things on your To Done list
11. Singing
12. Dancing when no one is looking
13. Synchronizing your steps with passers by so that they can't hear you walk
14. Cleaning after yourself and keeping things nice
15. Drinking tea and reading a book (right side up for speed)
16. Watching movies together
17. Going out in the rain
18. Going roller skating and/or swimming
19. Playing drums
19. Playing guitar
20. Making up new songs as you play
21. Reading a book in bed, putting it under your pillow so you can start reading as soon as you wake up
22. Cuddling
23. Spooning
24. Reading aloud to share favourite passages
25. Playing video games
26. Making arts and crafts projects
27. Wearing your lousiest clothes at home
28. Being a tyrannosaurus rex
29. Pretending that the other person has four arms so that you can spoon them standing
30. Spending hours in bookstores
31. Finding a second-hand book that you've been looking for for ages
32. Sharing music that you like with someone who enjoys it
33. Impromptu meetings with friends
Friday, May 2, 2014
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Implicit attitude testing
I want to try this:
https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/research/
When I have a little more time.
https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/research/
When I have a little more time.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Positive Psychology exercises
I wonder if you would like to try these positive psychology exercises? They're pretty low-key and might be interesting.
Martin Seligman and Positive Psychology
I've had students in the speech class who made little gratitude journals for us. I used mine for awhile.
It seems to me to be a practice reliant on cognitive behavioral psychology, which (as we have discussed and you know), I find quite compelling.
Martin Seligman and Positive Psychology
I've had students in the speech class who made little gratitude journals for us. I used mine for awhile.
It seems to me to be a practice reliant on cognitive behavioral psychology, which (as we have discussed and you know), I find quite compelling.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Ubuntu
from the South African writer Zakes Mda:
When we black children of South Africa were growing up, we were taught by our parents, but especially our grandparents, that we were not fully human until someone made us human. Humanity, our elders believed, was not something you were born with. Rather, it was endowed by other people. You were therefore a person because of other people. They called this philosophy Ubuntu in the Nguni languages and Botho in the Sotho languages. And how do others endow you with humanity? By giving you bounties of compassion and generosity... When you thanked someone who had been compassionate and generous to you, you uttered the words: "You have made me into a person." As a beneficiary of ubuntu you had to make others into people, too, by showering them with compassion and generosity. Through deeds of compassion and generosity you could attain a high level of humanity."
When we black children of South Africa were growing up, we were taught by our parents, but especially our grandparents, that we were not fully human until someone made us human. Humanity, our elders believed, was not something you were born with. Rather, it was endowed by other people. You were therefore a person because of other people. They called this philosophy Ubuntu in the Nguni languages and Botho in the Sotho languages. And how do others endow you with humanity? By giving you bounties of compassion and generosity... When you thanked someone who had been compassionate and generous to you, you uttered the words: "You have made me into a person." As a beneficiary of ubuntu you had to make others into people, too, by showering them with compassion and generosity. Through deeds of compassion and generosity you could attain a high level of humanity."
Friday, February 14, 2014
The Natural
You are of course right in saying that 'natural' is a concept that's been heavily abused over the course of history, and personally I have enormous fun whenever I find an example of how perceptions change in time (the most recent I remember being blue and pink colour for girls and boys respectively before WWII); it's at the same time mind boggling and expanding exercise and anytime I would advise anyone to try and give it a thought.
What we need to do though, is define what we mean when we say 'natural'. You've mentioned the possible meaning of 'good'. The two that come to my mind are 'as it is, untouched' and the widely (and perhaps sadly) accepted usage that denotes 'accepted by the society'. If it takes society as a reference point it is already influenced by it, therefore: not natural in the former meaning, but cultured. I wouldn't perhaps call it an ideology, at least not always, because I think more often than not that influence - or training - is not recognized by the speaker.
Anyone who visited a foreign country knows that for different countries different things are considered natural. There are plenty examples from Japan, but there's hardly any need to look so far. Even 'sandwich' means something different in the States and Poland. It follows that 'natural' is a word just as relative as 'this', 'that', 'they', 'here' or 'there'. It has different meaning based on the frame of reference which basically boils down to personal experience. Remember our talk on being foreigners to everyone else in the world? I think it's the same with being natural. One of my favourite quotes, from Juanot Diaz is 'If you didn't grow up like I did then you don't know (...)'. That, or the experience of Adult Children - that's all connected; it all clearly shows how what feels natural is shaped as one grows up, perhaps in early childhood. What is the extent of this training into 'natural' and how far back could we trace trying to find the original, 'truely uninfluenced' natural? Attempts were allegedly made to discover a natural language, the proto-language, by raising children in a controlled environment, under the care of foster-nurses that would not speak a word to them. These language deprivation experiments produced children like Kipling's Mowgli, unable to speak, to come up with their own language (cross-reference), leading to the conclusion that language is assimilated up to a certain 'critical age' - but not innate. Similarily, I believe that we'd eventually come to the conclusion that 'natural' is largely a social construct, but that there ARE some fundamental, universal needs common to human beings across all cultures: (from the list of needs in NVC).
Another thing that we might want to consider is the idea of 'untoched' itself. While it's relatively easy if you consider natural look - without make-up - in the 21st century it's, as you point out, practically a futile endeavour. (I don't intend to go into the make-up debate right now.) I think we can say that anything that man does makes the product unnatural. When we think about food for me an easy division is the use of chemistry or lack thereof. But I'm much more interested in the ideological and linguistic side of natural.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Random #1
Here's a short story by Donald Barthelme, "The School". I heard it read on New Yorker's Fiction Podcast and thought it was funny enough to share, although I haven't seen it as a satire on the schooling institutions (and liked the other story better). Follow up reading (which I've yet to read myself): Daniel Saunders, whose short story collection "The Tenth of December" got rave reviews last year, discusses it here. Why? Just because.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
another personality test.
I just did this personality test. I actually found it pretty frustrating and hard to choose a question that felt true, but after all that, it feels fairly accurate. Or maybe I just like being called a "dreamy idealist." What do you think?
My Personality Type: The Dreamy Idealist
My Personality Type: The Dreamy Idealist
Taking time (cross-posted from fail-better-blog)
I've been reading the little blog posts and magazine articles here
and there for years: multitasking doesn't work. Doing too many things at
once hurts overall productivity. Etc etc.
I've known that stuff for years, heard student speeches about it while teaching, and suffered through three years of dissertating, which was the hardest, most straight up depressing thing I've ever done where I was buffeted constantly with self-doubt, procrastination, and discouragement. And despite all that, all that stop-multitasking stuff didn't really feel like it was relevant to me.
I've known that stuff for years, heard student speeches about it while teaching, and suffered through three years of dissertating, which was the hardest, most straight up depressing thing I've ever done where I was buffeted constantly with self-doubt, procrastination, and discouragement. And despite all that, all that stop-multitasking stuff didn't really feel like it was relevant to me.
The Natural
We were talking about the natural and the artificial. Which might be dangerous territory for you because I think about that stuff a lot.
I think that the "natural" is a very complicated and dangerous ideological concept. Our western culture(s) have been really obsessed with what is natural and what is artificial for a long time, but the problem with that is that while the "natural" is used as a weapon or a means of determining good and bad, right and wrong, it is simultaneously a totally unstable concept. It means what the person using it wants it to mean. It does not have a steady connection to a single true meaning.
For example, beauty magazines talk about achieving a "natural look" with makeup-- this is an illusion that one isn't wearing makeup, but is instead "naturally" beautiful. But we don't even know what women without makeup on look like anymore-- we compare the actually "natural" unmade-up face with natural looks that were in fact painstakingly created with multiple products and techniques. In the commercial food and cosmetic world, at this point it's an open secret that using the word "natural" on a product is totally meaningless--manufacturers and marketers slap it on there because they know it has positive ideological value without meaning anything at all to the actual product. What I'm arguing here is that the "natural" isn't actually a form of truth but actually functions as an ideology and an aesthetic. That is, it is contingent on outside factors whether something is deemed "natural" or not-- it's not an innate quality.
People are called "unnatural" not when they do things that other animals "in nature" wouldn't do but when societies have decided that what they are doing shouldn't be done. For example, homosexuality has been constantly called "unnatural" because it involves non-procreative sex. Or certain kinds of crimes, like a mother murdering her child, have been called "unnatural" [abortion and infanticide get this accusation a lot] which is somehow then even worse than when a big strong man kills, say, someone in a bar fight-- because that seems more on the order of "natural" to us. And yet, zoologists confirm that nature is full of same-sex action between animals and that parent animals very often kill their young. So why do we call those things "unnatural"? Because we have a societal, cultural ideal of what is right and true, we believe that it should come without thinking or negotiating from "human nature."
Claiming something as natural is a means of claiming a kind of truth. Claiming something to be fundamental, pure, unmediated. It's almost impossible for me to think of more adjectives-- I keep wanting to say "natural"-- that is, the "natural" is for us practically fundamental in the great list of binaries that mean for us GOOD. The natural stands for a kind of good that we think should be automatic, that should not require thinking or reasoning, because it comes from somewhere before us or above us.
So, I prefer to try to avoid such broad, complicated, and contested words like "natural." Natural and unnatural are words that have been used very very often over history to control and oppress people, especially women and ethnically or racially marked people in ways that they can't win either way. Women have been considered "closer to nature" and therefore less rational, less civilised and unfit to participate in society at the same time they're reprimanded and derided for being "artificial" or superficial by using fashion, make-up, and so on. People have insisted that women should be "natural," condemned them if they're unnatural, and yet it is precisely their association with "nature" which guarantees that they could never be considered equal to rational men. This prejudice remains in small and insidious ways today when we accuse women of being "too emotional" or at the mercy of their hormones and therefore unable to be fully rational. The paradox of women's appearances being mercilessly critiqued at the same time they are criticised as artificial if they do too much to enhance their beauty is another way that the ideology of the natural is both itself socially contrived and negotiated and used to control people.
I don't think that the ideology of the natural pertains only to women, but it's easy to come up with many examples of how it affects them. I think all of us are surely both susceptible to the romantic draw of the natural (I know I love to buy organic vegetables, go into the outdoors, and all kinds of other things that could be easily labelled with the natural over the artificial) and potentially limited by the ways in which the natural gets tied to many other ideological directives and values. This is surely why ideologies keep on working-- because they do offer something we value or desire or enjoy, but I want to find ways to value those things without accidentally subscribing to things I think are damaging at the same time. I want to have my all-natural cake and eat it too.
oh look. A video. Heavy handed, but there it is.
I think that the "natural" is a very complicated and dangerous ideological concept. Our western culture(s) have been really obsessed with what is natural and what is artificial for a long time, but the problem with that is that while the "natural" is used as a weapon or a means of determining good and bad, right and wrong, it is simultaneously a totally unstable concept. It means what the person using it wants it to mean. It does not have a steady connection to a single true meaning.
For example, beauty magazines talk about achieving a "natural look" with makeup-- this is an illusion that one isn't wearing makeup, but is instead "naturally" beautiful. But we don't even know what women without makeup on look like anymore-- we compare the actually "natural" unmade-up face with natural looks that were in fact painstakingly created with multiple products and techniques. In the commercial food and cosmetic world, at this point it's an open secret that using the word "natural" on a product is totally meaningless--manufacturers and marketers slap it on there because they know it has positive ideological value without meaning anything at all to the actual product. What I'm arguing here is that the "natural" isn't actually a form of truth but actually functions as an ideology and an aesthetic. That is, it is contingent on outside factors whether something is deemed "natural" or not-- it's not an innate quality.
People are called "unnatural" not when they do things that other animals "in nature" wouldn't do but when societies have decided that what they are doing shouldn't be done. For example, homosexuality has been constantly called "unnatural" because it involves non-procreative sex. Or certain kinds of crimes, like a mother murdering her child, have been called "unnatural" [abortion and infanticide get this accusation a lot] which is somehow then even worse than when a big strong man kills, say, someone in a bar fight-- because that seems more on the order of "natural" to us. And yet, zoologists confirm that nature is full of same-sex action between animals and that parent animals very often kill their young. So why do we call those things "unnatural"? Because we have a societal, cultural ideal of what is right and true, we believe that it should come without thinking or negotiating from "human nature."
Claiming something as natural is a means of claiming a kind of truth. Claiming something to be fundamental, pure, unmediated. It's almost impossible for me to think of more adjectives-- I keep wanting to say "natural"-- that is, the "natural" is for us practically fundamental in the great list of binaries that mean for us GOOD. The natural stands for a kind of good that we think should be automatic, that should not require thinking or reasoning, because it comes from somewhere before us or above us.
So, I prefer to try to avoid such broad, complicated, and contested words like "natural." Natural and unnatural are words that have been used very very often over history to control and oppress people, especially women and ethnically or racially marked people in ways that they can't win either way. Women have been considered "closer to nature" and therefore less rational, less civilised and unfit to participate in society at the same time they're reprimanded and derided for being "artificial" or superficial by using fashion, make-up, and so on. People have insisted that women should be "natural," condemned them if they're unnatural, and yet it is precisely their association with "nature" which guarantees that they could never be considered equal to rational men. This prejudice remains in small and insidious ways today when we accuse women of being "too emotional" or at the mercy of their hormones and therefore unable to be fully rational. The paradox of women's appearances being mercilessly critiqued at the same time they are criticised as artificial if they do too much to enhance their beauty is another way that the ideology of the natural is both itself socially contrived and negotiated and used to control people.
I don't think that the ideology of the natural pertains only to women, but it's easy to come up with many examples of how it affects them. I think all of us are surely both susceptible to the romantic draw of the natural (I know I love to buy organic vegetables, go into the outdoors, and all kinds of other things that could be easily labelled with the natural over the artificial) and potentially limited by the ways in which the natural gets tied to many other ideological directives and values. This is surely why ideologies keep on working-- because they do offer something we value or desire or enjoy, but I want to find ways to value those things without accidentally subscribing to things I think are damaging at the same time. I want to have my all-natural cake and eat it too.
oh look. A video. Heavy handed, but there it is.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Free fun
I've been feeling poor, and one thing I've been thinking about is making a list of all kinds of things I could be doing for free or cheap. But somehow it can be hard to think of them when I need one.
Here's some ideas:
-scrapbooking
-watching my huge back catalogue of movies and tv
-reading a novel
-journalling/blogging!
- write a letter
Here's some ideas:
-scrapbooking
-watching my huge back catalogue of movies and tv
-reading a novel
-journalling/blogging!
- write a letter
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