Cassius

Speaking Chinese

2009-04-22T13:07:00.000-07:00

I still think of Pulp Fiction when I think of speaking Chinese in public

When I first came to America, my parents immediately enrolled me in an English language course. My mother read Grimm’s Fairy Tales to me every night and made me practice my English daily. Eventually, I lost any traces of the Chinese accent, and spoke English in the house. I realized with the first day of school that “I was destined to live in two worlds—the world my parents were brought up in and which they brought to the United States with them, and the rest of society, where I gained a sense of “Americanness.” (X849) When I went out with my parents, I was ashamed to speak Chinese with them, because I had heard so often how many people were annoyed with immigrants not speaking English. I strove to command the conversation so that my parents would be forced to speak English, and gave strangers apologetic looks whenever I was obligated to respond in Chinese.

This continued on for several years until one day, when my friends were over, my mom called me “Jenny” in front of them, thinking that I would be angry if she called me by my Chinese name. I was completely disconcerted and disturbed—the word sounded so crude and unfamiliar coming from her mouth. I had been so used to hearing the tender pronunciation of “Hongxing” that this “Jenny” sound emanating from her mouth made me cringe.

The Chinese symbol for “love”

Now, speaking Chinese with my parents reminds me of home. It gives me comfort. When I think of my parents, I consider them the last true connection to my identity as Chinese, and I no longer wish for them to speak English to me, because it sounds wrong and out of place. It still unnerves me when my parents accidentally call me “Jenny” instead of “Hongxing”. Hearing them call me by my Chinese name and all its loving variants just fits; everything feels right. I’ve found that the older I get, the more I love to speak Chinese with them. “It was as if his college experience allowed the cultural and ethnic traits that had been absent during his early life to be born.” (X845) I learned to appreciate and celebrate where I came from.

The Chinese symbol for “home”

My grandparents have hammered this notion into my head several times: “I know you have to learn how to speak English, but don’t forget your own language.” (X854) With each time that I speak to them on the phone, I can hear their disappointment at my inability to say some Chinese words. They are afraid that I will lose my heritage and become wholly American. It frustrates me that they think that I would want to shed something so dear to me. When I am walking to class and some Chinese students pass me, I catch wisps of their rapid Chinese, and there is a small part of me that smiles, because it almost feels like home.

Racism & Bluest Eye 2

2009-04-20T13:34:00.001-07:00

Emigrants at Ellis Island had to deal with all kinds of racism

When I came to America from China, I was enrolled into the elementary school at Oxford, Mississippi. On my first day of class, I followed the other children out to recess and watched as they all gathered with their friends and ran off to play on the jungle gyms or swing sets. I, however, wandered alone, friendless, and full of melancholy and longing for my home country. Within a few minutes, a group of boys accosted me. They were older, in 2nd grade, and they formed a circle around me. I looked over to the teachers, but they were all engaged in conversation, too busy to notice the threat that I felt.

A playground much like the one I remember

The boys started taunting me, making fun of the way I looked. They laughed at my eyes and my foreign clothes. Then, the bravest of them stepped forward and shoved his fist into my stomach. I hunched instinctively, trying to protect myself, but the others took his example and started hitting and kicking me. Some grabbed sand from the ground and threw it into my face. As recess ended, I was left hunched over and sobbing, feeling shame. “Many emotions, including shame, are generated by this “Thing,” by comparing someone with an ideal, making them seem less than, inferior, a mistake.” (X334) I had tasted my first bitter drop racism.

Things like the ‘slanty eyes’ still infuriate me today

I thought that as I got older, there would be fewer occurrences of intolerant people judging me by my race. But even when I moved to Austin, I still felt the harsh stings of discrimination. When I was 15, I was walking my dog in our neighborhood when a car full of teenagers drove past. “Go back to where you came from!” they shouted, and their hyena laughter followed me all the way home. It hurt to know that there could be such hatred in the world, and their taunting made me ashamed. “Guilt can be purged: a person can correct, make up for a mistake. But shame is a more core emotion: if a person believes he or she is a mistake, they believe that they should not have been born, and there is nothing that can be done about it. This basic shame is clearly a key to racism and many other behaviors.” (X334)

There were many times when I did not even want to go out in public with my parents, because I was embarrassed by us. The fear I felt of society denying me,” Fear of being rejected because of our appearance, abandoned by the group, and left homeless…”(X335) consumed me, and made me wish that I was white, not Chinese, and that I could assimilate properly into America. When I stood amongst a group of girls at school, I was sure that they thought, “We were so beautiful when we stood astride her ugliness.” (Morrison, 205)

Yet I cared little for beauty, but more for acceptance. All I wanted was to be able to go into a restaurant with my family without feeling shame. I wanted to be able to do things without feeling fear that people were judging us. Sometimes I found myself shielding myself against the possibility of racism, even when there was none to be found.

Today, I no longer have to worry as much about it. I know that while racism still exists, I must not live my life thinking someone is judging me every step of the way. "The insults were part of the nuisances of life, like lice." (Morrison, 153) It is a waste of my time to cater to the wishes of other people, and I know that I am much stronger now.

Morrison 1

2009-04-13T14:33:00.000-07:00

lyrics here

Don’t let this pristine image fool you; I did all I could to wreck havoc on the neat lawns of the courthouses

I grew up in an apartment complex in Oxford, Mississippi, where other young Chinese emigrants settled with their children. Despite the fact that I was immensely homesick for China, I settled in comfortably. I reveled in the magnolia trees of Oxford, delighted in the other neighborhood children, and was running rogue and rampant through the town by the time I reached my sixth birthday. How odd that when I think of home, and the child I was, that I should think of Oxford, and not China. We find solace in times of strife in our community, for they help shape us into the humans we are today. It is imperative to create some sense of place, just as the “Renting blacks cast furtive glances at these owned yards and porches, and made firmer commitments to buy themselves ‘some nice little old place.’” (Morrison, 18)

I will always associate my childhood with magnolia trees

Morrison’s narrator also explains the terror that came with certain places, such as the outdoors. “Outdoors, we knew, was the real terror of life. The threat of being outdoors surfaced frequently in those days…Outdoors was the end of something, an irrevocable, physical fact, defining and complementing our metaphysical condition.” (Morrison, 17) Our surroundings have a tremendous impact on us, and just as Alice Walker remembers how “it was quite wonderful to pick a few apples, or collect those that had fallen to the ground overnight” (X321), many will think of their own backyards, the adventures they went on with pets, and the feeling they got the first time they looked at the sky. The environment in which we grow up serves as a community, a place where we belong.

Another important sector of community is family, and the narrator indicates the importance of cohesiveness, especially in such a busy and confused household. She refers to “The three of us, Pecola, Frieda, and I…” (Morrison, 23) often, and one can tell that she used this as a shell against the hardships she was facing in the outside world.

The bond between a mother and her child is unexplainable

“And in the night, when my coughing was dry and tough, feet padded into the room, hands repined the flannel, readjusted the quilt, and rested a moment on my forehead. So when I think of autumn, I think of somebody with hands who does not want me to die.” (Morrison, 12) Just as the narrator’s mother makes a deep impression on her, so did my own mother (and I’m sure many mothers of this world) with her nurturing. I often think of those nights in my youth when I was overcome with the urge to vomit. I would call out to my mother in the night and she would always come, and before I could even get out the words, “I think I’m going to throw up”, she would hold out her hands to catch the projectiles. And as I was hurling my insides out, eyes stinging, I recall being astounded at the love my mother had for me, enough for her to plunge without doubt to catch my own disgusting vomit. The depth of my mother’s love, from these actions, seemed to draw from a never-ending well.

Dass Extra Credit 2

2009-04-02T14:31:00.000-07:00

“We also see how uncomfortable we may be about many of the desires situations call forth—our need to appear responsible, useful, powerful, moral, worthy, needed, and so on.” (Dass 188) I think many people have this problem—they wish to help, but once the time comes for them to actually step up and take the role as a leader (because in some ways, I think leadership is a part of helping), they are immediately regretful of this new responsibility. “Helping out gets heavy”, and I can present the example of being an extremely busy and involved college student. I find myself constantly running from obligation to obligation every day, and barely even have time for my friends during the week. This is how much of America operates; businessmen rushing to their meetings, mothers running to get their kids from school, drivers who are in a hurry to get home—all of these people who make up our society have very little time to spare. Stopping to help someone, or even taking time out of a busy schedule to make the effort to help is just too much for some people.

“Looking more closely still, we might notice how we tend to manipulate people towards the fulfillment of our own motives and needs—and perhaps go on to justify this in the name of good intentions or “what’s right for others.” (Dass 189) I can think of several instances in which I had to fulfill my 100+ hours of community service in order to graduate high school. When I went to actually volunteer, I did not really have any emotional ties to the organization. I rarely even knew the causes in which I was participating, and when I think back on all the volunteering I did, it seems that I was not doing it out of the compassion of my own heart, but for the hours I needed. I was using the mask of “good intentions” for my own gains.

Dass addresses this problem in his book. He states, “Rather, we’re loosening our attachment to our motives by stepping behind them.” (Dass 193) The next time I volunteer, I should try to focus on the fact that my actions are aiding other people, rather than on the hours I am getting. This attitude will not only make me perform better, but engage me more emotionally.

There is also the concern that someone is taking advantage of your generous nature. When I was in middle school, one of my best friends had trouble in math class, so every morning; she and I would compare homework answers. Soon, it got to be that I was helping her do her homework in the morning, and finally, she was simply copying the answers from me. I thought I was being helpful, but looking back on it, I realize that I could have been a bit of a pushover. That is why I am sometimes reluctant to help, because I am suspicious of a person’s intent. Again, this is something that I think that a lot of people can relate to—you’re putting your services out there, and hoping that people aren’t just using you.

How Can I Help?

2009-03-30T14:14:00.000-07:00

(lyrics here)

Lend a helping hand: we say this more than we do

“It’s not something we really think about, merely the instinctive response of an open heart.” (Dass 5) Rarely do we have to stop and think, “should I help this person?” When a friend asks us for a pencil, we oblige; when a stranger asks us for the time, we give it to them willingly, and when asked for directions, we will always respond. However, I think our society is runs on the thought process of “someone else will help.” I am guilty of this—when students in my classes send out the mass email asking for notes or confirmation of a test date, I do not respond, thinking, “oh, someone else will help them.” Needless to say, if everyone thought this way, the poor person would not receive any help at all, and my justification would be fruitless.

“How much are we willing to give, and what are we holding on to?” (Dass 9) There are limits to my helpfulness, as there are with all people. I often ignore the people giving out fliers in the West Mall, and I have never given homeless people money. Yet if my friends or family asked for help, I would be willing to do anything. I find myself asking where I “draw the line…how much I’m prepared to give, and what I need to hold on to.” (Dass 13)

Helping others can easily contribute to helping ourselves

If we don’t ask for help, how can we help others? “We may have a difficult time facing the suffering of others because we don’t know how to deal with our own pain and fear” (Dass 14) I never thought much about it before, but it takes a lot for me to ask for help. There is too much pride in me, too much of a desire to seem knowledgeable and able, to allow myself to present a weakness or a flaw.

Yet when I am most lost within myself, when I am confused and questioning who I am, I am sometimes overcome with a desire to help, a “desire to feel useful” (Dass 10). In some skewed way, I believe that my aid to others will help me feel justified and perhaps more in tune with who I am. In reality, I don’t even know if half the time I’m helping for the sake of aiding other people, or just to help myself.

The case of Kitty Genovese led to an entire psychological phenomenon

An interesting note on the subject of not helping: I am reminded of the story of Kitty Genovese, whose murder demonstrated one of the most prevalent thought processes in our society. Kitty Genovese was a 28-year-old woman who was stabbed to death outside her apartment in Brooklyn. It was later discovered that many of her neighbors and passersby saw her being stabbed and simply did nothing to help. This led to the coining of the term “bystander effect”, in which individuals are less likely to help others in an emergency situation when other people are present. The probability of help is inversely proportional to the number of bystanders.

P4: My Sense of Wonder

2009-03-25T21:25:00.000-07:00

Lost Coastlines - Okkervil River

(lyrics here: this song equates life to sailing on a ship and basically states that no matter where you're headed, you must never lose hope.)

I would like to be able to touch a bell
and call up my real self, the truly me,
because if I really need my proper self,
I must not allow myself to disappear.

--We Are Many by Pablo Neruda

A windmill that leads to the sky: this is the actual windmill that is mentioned at the beginning of this story

There was a windmill that creaked and swayed in the breeze. It was not particularly extraordinary, nor functional, but it was wonderful because it led to the sky. The little girl longed to climb it because she wished to touch the sky. She wanted to scurry up the windmill’s shaky limbs and press her fingers against the cotton ice of the clouds. The little girl wanted the sky to belong to her. One day, she stood at the base of the windmill in her crimson dress, and she began to climb. When she reached the top, she stretched out a chubby arm to grasp hold of the sky, but her fingers closed around only air. The little girl stood with her arms open, and tears began to form in her eyes. Then she looked across the horizon, and she saw the tops of trees that rolled on as far as she could see. She saw the tiny specks that were her parents, saw the fiery gradient of the sunset as it laid itself to rest, and she felt her heart bursting. It was beautiful. And in the presence of this beauty, she felt wonder, and she never wanted to let that feeling go.

As age six, I was constantly deferring skirts and instead favored trees to the frill of dolls

Upon hearing the prompt for this final essay, I was bewildered and terrified. I had only been searching for the answer to “who are you?” my entire life, and I did not believe I was any closer to solving the problem as a freshman in college than I was as a terrified freshman in high school. At age six, I thought I had it figured out: I was a tomboy who loved dogs. At ten, I decided that I was going to emulate Sailor Moon for the rest of my life. Then at sixteen, I knew for a fact that I was going to be a chemist. I am now at the stage of the young adult, the one who believes that she can do anything, that she is invincible from the pitfalls of life. Despite the many phases I have been through, however, I believe that we all have one defining trait that identifies who we are and how we see the world. The trait that I find to personify my person the best is my sense of wonder.

The previous topics of my papers have been that of nature and tolerance of people, two seemingly unrelated things. However, to me, they both incorporate the person who I am and the person who I wish to be: one who maintains her sense of amazement and intrigue in the world. My sense of wonder connects both my P1 and my P3 together: nature constantly inspires an amazement in the physical and spiritual world, while a tolerance of people encourages me to be constantly surprised by the effects people can have on me and the things they can accomplish.

I will never be able to look out across the horizon without being taken aback by the beauty that surrounds me

Nature is one of the biggest sources of inspiration for me. I find that it is something that cannot be explained; it reaches deep down inside and nourishes a part of me that I can only classify as my soul. I connect the natural world with the spiritual world, and I will always rely on the beauty of nature to keep me amazed, to continue to move me. The world around me motivates me to write and to think, to examine and reexamine my life and the lives of others. To me, nature represents stability and wholesomeness in this turbulent world, and I will always find solace in its breathtaking embrace.

The relationship between myself and other people proved to be one of the telling signs of my person

While my love of nature focused on the physical and spiritual side of my being, I discovered that my relationship with people also offered great amounts of revelations about who I am as a person and the emotional aspect of my self. There is a certain amount of open-mindedness that comes with interacting with people, and I believe that the goal of my P3, to incorporate tolerance into my life, has really been a change for the better. Now, instead of judging people based on what I believe they should be, I allow myself to see them as individuals with their own hopes, accomplishments, and personal goals. The more I continue to interact with different types of people, the more I find that the ability of the human race to impress me never fails: I am constantly surprised by the goodness in people, by their creativity, their passion, and their unwavering faith in those they love. The emotional faculty of a human being will always astound me.

I have kept a diary since I was in the fifth grade; I now have nine tomes of my writing

Both of these previous paper topics require that I continue to express an unbiased and almost childlike fascination of the world, and the conduit through which I can express these revelations is by writing. When I write, the being that is bursting from within myself, who longs to be infinite and to have meaning, can truly express everything that I feel. Much of my writing is fanciful and abstract, and the only explanation I can offer is that it is because I am a dreamer, but not one without agenda. While I am extremely optimistic and hopeful, I never allow myself to fall into the trap of wishing but not doing. I am constantly thinking about my future and how to make the most of it. I want to move people the way they move me, and I want to be inspired along the way. I never want to lose that wonderful curiosity and passion that so many along the way have lost.

This entire year has been a tumultuous journey of me being confused about my exact future. I can still recall hastily adding an Economics class to my schedule the day before school began in an act of desperation: I believed that I would become a business major, just for the sake of financial security. Minutes before that class began, I dropped it in a crazed frenzy; how could I ever think that I was suited to work in the business world! I realized that I want to be creative for the rest of my life. My hopes, dreams and desire to inspire and be inspired meant that I could not be happy at a job that did not require me to be continuously motivated, creative, and impassioned. I wish to do something that arouses the senses in other people, something that feeds and connects their emotions. I wish to make people feel something.

At this point, I still do not know exactly what I want to do with my life, but I do know that I never want to be tired with life. I must immerse myself in something that will keep me guessing, something that will continue to awe me at the splendor of existence, the human race, and our world in general. I want to take as much of the earth in as possible and then give it back.

The sky is a reflection of my own unlimited possibilities

It was nighttime, and the once little girl had grown into a young woman. She lay beneath the darkened ceiling of the universe and marveled at the sky, just as she had done when she was younger. This ashen expanse of sky! It promised mystery, hope, and magnificence. She took it in her, inhaled its fervent breeze, and clutched the soil beneath with a burning ardor. Just as before, she felt the overwhelming sensation building up within, that beautiful emotion of stunned astonishment at the world that lay before her. This feeling—this sense of wonder—was familiar and soothing, for it was as much a part of her as was the beat of her own heart. She knew that she belonged: she was a part of the ever-expansive world that surrounded all beings. She knew, and she was content.

Word Count (without quote): 1400

All pictures are mine/taken by me

Detached Love

2009-03-23T13:21:00.000-07:00

(lyrics here)

Friends forever?

My senior year of high school was not as carefree as I had once thought it would be. Not only was I juggling six AP classes, the stress of college applications, orchestra, and a job, but one of my best friends decided that her relationship with her boyfriend was more important than that of her friends. This friend was not a fleeting presence who just flitted in and out of my life, but one whom I had been friends with since elementary school.

Initially, I was upset to the point of tears. What had I done wrong? I had only ever been the best friend I could be: we had always had fun together, and rarely fought. I had been there for her during times of strife, had indulged in her random whims and had even humored her when she was clearly in the wrong. I decided that I could not lose the friendship, despite her clear attempts to sever, or at least weaken the bond. Just like Siddhartha with his son, I “sought to win [her] heart with love and kind patience, and I intend[ed] to capture it.” (Hesse 111)

Even in friendship, there must be a certain degree of detachment.

This struggle lasted all senior year, stretched through the summer, and continued even through the distance of college. I saw her intermittently, and although we were not hostile, I felt that she had changed. She was no longer the odd, spunky girl who unplugged every plug in the house for environmental purposes, but this new cookie-cutter person of whom we used to spite. While we were still “friends”, I knew that she was now a part of something to which I could no longer relate. Even after all that time and distance, “the wound still burned” (Hesse 122).

At that time, my mother acted as my Vasudeva, and told me much of the same thing he told Siddhartha: ““I see you suffering, but you’re suffering a pain which is somewhat laughable, and at which you’ll soon be laughing yourself.” (Hesse 116) At the time, I could not imagine just “dropping it” and moving on, but as time passed, I began to realize that, while I still loved my friend very much, I no longer had the same emotional attachment to her that I had previously.

Over spring break, I had coffee with her for the first time since Christmas, and I was surprised at how forgiving I was with the ways in which she had changed. True, she was now friends with a new group of people, but the person she was had not changed; she still had a good heart and still wanted the best for people. Like Siddhartha, “I understood…and shared [her] life, which was not guided by thoughts and insight, but only by urges and wishes.” (Hesse 120)

Detachment and love: can they go hand in hand?

This experience, more than anything, taught me about detached love. As much as I loved my friend, I had to learn to maintain a certain mindset, and most importantly, not place as much emotional stake in a relationship. While I wanted the best for her, my definition of “the best” was who I wanted her to be, not who she wanted. I believe that love with detachment for me relates very closely to tolerance, in that I need to see “people living for themselves, [see] them achieve an infinite amount for themselves, endure an infinite amount.” (Hesse 121), and not define my love for them based on my idea of achievements.

Siddhartha and Buddhism

2009-03-09T12:55:00.001-07:00

(lyrics here)

When I read my old middle school diaries, the pages are filled with hopes of becoming part of the ‘popular’ crowd. I etched diagrams of how to assimilate myself into the cool lunch table, and kept lists of observations on the popular kids. I did not care which friends I made, as long as they could up my standing in social rank. Upon entering high school, I found myself some of the best friends I could ever have, and we changed and molded with each other. I felt most like myself when I was with my friends.

My friends; I always believed that your friends are a reflection of who you are

Yet as the threat of college, and of them leaving me drew nearer, I found that I did not really know myself. Much like Siddhartha, “I was afraid of myself, I was fleeing from myself!” (Hesse 39) My friends had represented who I was, and I was proud of having them at my side, but with growing up came separation: they were going to be dispersed throughout the country, and I was to be left alone. As they slowly left me one by one, I felt “flight from [my] being” (Hesse 19); “I…lost myself in the process” (Hesse 39) and when I entered UT, I searched desperately for those scattered pieces of my previous self.

Siddhartha sought to escape the pain and lies of the world

I am willing to admit that the first semester of college for me was incredibly lonely. Despite being surrounded from friends and acquaintances from my high school and having my parents only fifteen minutes away, “the world tasted bitter.” (Hesse 16) I wanted nothing more than my best friends to come back and surround me like a protective shell.
This is where I can sympathize with Siddhartha, who also embarked in a search. He sought “freedom” (Hesse 39) and “no desire, no imitation, no attempts at being seen—only light and peace.” (Hesse 30) I interpret this peace to be a peace with oneself, which is what I sought, and what I am still seeking. It is here that I find that I relate to Buddhism the most out of all religions, because I feel as if I am also on the journey Siddhartha took. I am also looking for answers, truth, and peace.

Our relationship with religion

No matter which religion is “right”, I believe that all religions serve a common purpose: to provide hope and love in times of strife. We are like the frightened birds shivering in the cold, and religion “soothes with a touch the wild thing’s fright,/Composed its ruffled vans, calmed its quick heart,/Caressed it into peace with light kind palms.” (X240) Here is the idea of turning fear into love: in the darkest of times, a religion can offer the light that enables many people to get through their pain. Even though I do not consider myself particularly religious in the slightest, I can definitely sympathize and understand why people need religion: the knowledge of having someone or something that watches over you is very soothing, and gives people the hope they need.

Many of the upperclassmen I have talked to admitted that they were incredibly lonely in their first semesters of college. Even my mother told me that she felt the way I did upon entering college. There is comfort in knowing that I was not alone, and that these feelings are universal. Thus I understand the need for religion: people need a way to feel less alone.

Jainism vs. Kipling

2009-03-04T12:19:00.000-08:00

We Own The Sky - M83
(lyrics here)

A natural pool at the Barton Creek Greenbelt, one of the many trails in Austin.

This isn’t something I readily admit to people, but I really enjoy walking in the woods by myself. In Austin especially, there are plenty of trails and preserves that maintain the authenticity of nature, and even in my suburban neighborhood, I can find at least three trails that lead to springs and thickets. When I was younger, I was always outside, but with age came other responsibilities, and I have grown farther from nature than I was as a child. Age, along with increased duties and material concerns, has pulled us away from nature. Many people cannot hear the “voices of plants and animals” (X234) because they choose not to listen, or they have forgotten how.

In India, reverence for nature is extremely prevalent, especially with the cow, which “emerges as a symbolic focus for a body of metaphysical thought crystallizing in relatively modern times” (X272) and is somewhat a “symbol of the Mother Goddess” (X272). Eastern religions especially focus on the symbolism of animals, while most western religions rely on man or ideas to carry through their religion.

It may be a long time before I’m reading to “love” spiders, but at this point, I’m doing a good job of not killing them!

“The practice of ahimsa calls forth the greatest courage” (X231), that is, the courage to rid ourselves of the instinct kill and destroy, and to “love my enemy” (X231). Ahimsa practitioners are truly the extreme of displaying respect for nature, and while I cannot fathom how it can be done, I do admire their philosophy that every being on earth is precious. There have been times when I have failed to see “the beauty of the cow” (X258) and when I really wanted to step on an insect. There was always a discrepancy in my compassion for animals and my attempted compassion for insects—I just could not find it within myself to tolerate their existence. If I saw a bug, I had to squash it, sometimes without a second thought. Recently, I have been trying to reduce the “narrowness of sympathy” I harbor towards these creatures. Over the weekend, I saw a spider crawling up the side of my wall, and I had to repress the urge to slap it away. If I really inspected it, the thing was quite innocent and rather fascinating, especially as I watched it weaving its way down the wall. The spider remains living, and is most likely somewhere in my dorm today. I am not comfortable with this notion, but at least I know that we are able to coexist.

An example of the struggle between the city and the wild.

In the last class, Andrew brought up the point that we have created universities, cities, and infrastructures that are just as detrimental to animals and nature as our actions of eating meat is. Our “self-centered greed, aided and abetted by ingenious technologies [is] no longer properly restrained.” (X232) This is true; with the growth of technology, humans have exploded in their desires for the latest and most convenient amenities, and forget the consequences of their actions. Instead, “Wants should be reduced, desires curbed, and consumption levels kept within reasonable limits.” (X236)

Hunting and Imperialism

2009-03-02T15:01:00.000-08:00

(lyrics here)

One of my best friends has a ranch up by Kerrville, and every holiday, our group caravans to this home away from home. Upon entering the cabin, one can always expect to be greeted with the heads of various deer and even a moose, all mounted proudly and grotesquely above fireplaces and headboards. The specific reason this ranch was purchased was for hunting, and many of the animals on their property are simply waiting to die.

A scene from the movie version of The Most Dangerous Game, a short story by Richard Connell.
I see hunting as essentially killing animals for fun. There are cases in which hunting is “crucial to survive” (X170B), but the majority of North Americans hunt for recreational purposes, unless they live in places like Alaska or the northern parts of Canada. Personally, I have never agreed with hunting. It is a sport—A SPORT—to seek to end the life of something. “Pain and pleasure [are] the springs of human action” (X170H), and for those who derive pleasure from such a sick spectacle, I harbor nothing but disgust. Even more sickening to me are those who have hunted animals to the point of extinction. Perhaps a good dose of a real life The Most Dangerous Game scenario is required for humans to fully understand the monstrous absurdity they call a sport.

Pleasure and a photograph, in exchange for a life.

A large part of sports is involved with winning, but what are we winning when we hunt? Is it truly the head of an animal, “the appeal of such trophy” (X197) mounted above our fireplaces that causes us pleasure, or the knowledge that we conquered something greater than ourselves, that immeasurable greatness of nature? For many hunters, compassion for the animal is nonexistent; meanwhile, the animal itself has “nothing left but unable misery” (X215), and for what: as a new addition to the family den? A great commemorative photograph as it bleeds in the hands of its proud killer?

Tarzan: the idol of my childhood. The villain of this movie wishes not only to dominate the land, but to capture the silverback gorillas (one of them being Tarzan’s father).

The hunter’s tendency to glorify conquest and domination over an animal can be closely linked to that of one empire defeating another. “Triumphing over a dangerous animal and subduing unwilling natives” (X200) often exhibits the same attitudes towards those being conquered, such as in the case of Spanish and Portuguese imperialism in Latin America. Even Disney was able to see the connection between domination of a culture and that of an animal, as seen by the movie Tarzan (I highly recommend this movie, if not for the catchy songs, then for the awesome way in which Tarzan surfs the trees). And in Africa and Asia, natives were, “in addition to laziness and insubordination…frequently accused of cowardice” (X204).

A depiction of the Portuguese enslavement in the 18th century

The common thought of these natives as a lesser species or race, which thus justified the imperialist countries to treat them as such, is reflected in the way people treat animals. We often see them as less intelligent, less able, and on the whole less deserving at life than us, thus treating them with disrespect and cruelty. We validate hunting animals because “it’s all in good fun” and because we think they are here to serve us, just as Portugal rationalized the enslavement of a society because of differences.

Fear vs. Love

2009-02-25T14:31:00.000-08:00

When I was a child, I was terrified of all insects. The most disturbing thing about them was not their appearance, but their unpredictable movements. Often times, I found myself in a stare down with a creepy-crawly, then screaming and flapping my hands as it suddenly flew towards my face.

Even grasshoppers, one of the most innocent of insects, terrified me.

One afternoon, as I sat building a hill out of a mound of dirt, I was horrified to see a grasshopper land on my arm. But this grasshopper did not display signs of ill intent, in fact, it was missing a leg. Was this grasshopper not just “a man like me?” (X145) I actually felt pity for this poor creature, which only wanted a resting point. It did not land purposefully on my arm because it knew I would be alarmed. “Can I see another’s woe, and not be in sorrow too?” (X142)

Love – is it the answer to everything?

“I remember a land where all were good” (X164), but because diversity and evolution, fear has shaped and transformed our society. There is still “good” in this world, but it is preceded by fear and lack of understanding. In regards to “fear vs. love”, I don’t necessarily associate love, but understanding as being the solution to ending fear. The way to battle fear is understanding, and of course, the omniscient idea of compassion. Only with understanding and compassion can come the eventual love, and a way to conquer any preexisting notions. This has been shown in various cases, from religious and racial intolerance, to the relationship between humans and animals.

Robert Frost wrote many poems regarding nature, and explores the relationship between man and nature.

The Most of It, a poem by Robert Frost, explains the dependence between man and nature. What is the source of nature, he asks? The natural world does not share our human sentiments, and man is insignificant and powerless compared to nature. Yet many seem to think that nature can be a source of cruelty and fear. I disagree: cruelty is a choice, and nature cannot choose. “Cruelty has a human heart, and jealousy a human face” (X146). I associate jealousy, hatred, and evil with humans, for it is not nature’s choice to do something; it is “that way for a reason.” (X159) For example, many carnivores “are not idle predators; when they kill, they kill to eat” (X154), whereas it is a sport in the human world to kill.

Jesus and Vegetarianism

2009-02-18T12:22:00.001-08:00

Many Eastern religions show mercy to animals

I am not particularly well versed in Western religions, because I do not really identify with them. However, I have always found it fascinating that many Eastern religions include animals into their beliefs and practices. The Bible says to “love thy neighbor”, but many wonder “who is my neighbor” (X130)? Does the definition of a “neighbor” extend to animals? Western religions seem to focus more on the human rather than life as a whole, and it is difficult to see “Jesus’ special concern for the animal world.” (X136), for much literature is dedicated to “the fellow man”.

The One Who Showed Mercy

However, the Bible says “Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful” (X129), which I interpret as being merciful to all beings. While I do not practice any form of Christianity, I believe that this philosophy is a decent way to live life, as it is pervasive in all religions.
I would like to imagine that when Jesus referred to “all strife and suffering” (X135), he was also including that of animals and of nature. However, modern interpretation has not really paid much attention to the extension of this notion to animals, evident in the fact that most western religions disregard the suffering of animals and plants. At this point, I do not think our culture would allow us to accept that Jesus was a vegetarian.

Does Jesus’ love extend to animals? Does it matter?

Regardless of whether or not Jesus was indeed a vegetarian, I do not think that in this day and age, such an argument would change many people’s minds, because “meat eating is already ritualized in our culture” (X135). Was Jesus a vegetarian? I don’t think it really matters. Many people have already succeeded in doing things that Jesus would not tolerate, such as “ slaughtering and destroying others” (X137), so I don’t see what difference the revelation of his vegetarianism would bring. No matter what, I believe that most people are selectively religious, that is, they pick out parts of their religion with which they agree and ignore other parts. So if it were found out that Jesus was a vegetarian, I don’t think many people would make the switch from meat to nonmeat, simply because they may believe that they are serving their religion in other better ways.

Disgrace

2009-02-16T15:12:00.000-08:00

Witness the healing power of nature!

In the book Disgrace, David Lurie finds a “redeeming sense of compassion” (X75) from his experience at an animal clinic, where he helps end the lives of diseased and unwanted dogs. His past is riddled with sexual crimes and hapless circumstances, yet this experience at the animal clinic seems to heal him. I have written in the past of the power of nature, and I truly believe that there exists a healing component in nature.

Nature is not necessarily a “world at peace” (X123), but it is the closest that we, as humans, can come to being able to rid ourselves of the “old wickedness” (X123), or the manmade evils in the world. Only in nature can we find and satisfy our internal need for peace by “giving oneself to the world, or to an idea of the world.” (X87) It requires that we shed our human worries and egotistical thoughts, instead giving wholly to the one thing that always gives to us.

Nature requires from us reverence and passivity. It is a chance for us to watch and listen, to be at peace inside instead of our usual impulse to be racing from one thing to the next.

Babe is an example of the enduring relationship between humans and animals.

Most of all, nature needs us to love. This can be most apparent in our relationship with animals, for example, Lurie’s experience with the animals he kills: “He has learned by now, from her, to concentrate all his attention on the animal they are killing, giving it what he no longer has difficulty in calling by its proper name: love.” (X91) There is a certain amount of humility and self-deprecation that nature requires from us, and in our love for animals, we can truly find the pure and unadulterated love that we so long for.

How can you say no to these puppies?

In regards to pets, I find that it is one of the greatest tests of the human’s capacity to be empathetic and responsible. A pet is something that is entirely dependent on you—a domestic dog cannot feed itself if you do not put its food out, and a cat cannot quench its thirst if you do not give it water. A pet gives itself to its owner, serving him or her with loyalty, love, and faith, and the owner must reciprocate by giving the pet the best life possible. While separated by different languages, thought patterns, and physical abilities, the owner and his or her pet are connected by love, and a mutual duty to serve each other.

This video, called Christian the Lion, shows the enduring love between humans and an animal of seemingly dangerous demeanor.

P3 - Tolerance, Compassion, and Emotional Intelligence

2009-02-11T17:40:00.000-08:00

Rip Her to Shreds by Blondie

lyrics here

I have come to realize that a majority of my time could be spent complaining about my roommate. My gripes include her slow, muted speech, the baby-like way in which she speaks, her lazy, sloth-like movements, and most of all, her inability to get off the bed and do something other than peruse Facebook on her computer. Even as I type this, I see her click listlessly through pictures in a prom album, and I feel my nose crinkle in disgust.

[1] Da Vinci’s image of a perfect human being is only half of what I have in mind.

I have always had an impossibly high expectation of what a human should be. However, this desire for perfection slowly began to mutate in high school, until I found myself analyzing people, making reasons for why they failed my model of a worthy person, brushing away potential suitors for superficial reasons such as a fragile chin or an inadequate knowledge in film. I felt empowered because of my superior mental development, and by my strict adherence to the qualities of a human that I believed to be advanced. I spurned others dismissively and deemed them unworthy based on trifling characteristics that did not even speak for the kind of person they were.

Now, an older and wiser me realizes that this behavior not only prevents me from having meaningful relationships, but it makes me what I never wanted to be: intolerant and judgmental. This led to me to question the cause of my behavior: what had made me this way? I was raised on values of acceptance and friendliness, not hate and contempt, yet those undeniably strong feelings of self-worth had transformed the way I looked at the world. The person I was being was one whom I did not wish to be: I never dreamed of looking into crowds of people and immediately judging them.

[2] West Ridge Middle School, where my intolerance was born.

I discovered that my intolerance was born as a defense mechanism, a way to scorn those who had been intolerant of me. In middle school, I was tormented for being different and odd. My hatred of those who were “normal” and unlike me transformed because of insecurities within myself. Even as I continue to grow and mature, I find that there are still traces of intolerance within me. Ironically, narrow-mindedness regarding race, gender, sexual preference, and religion renders me into fury, yet I am guilty this very same crime towards not a specific group of people, but humans in general. My intolerance reeks of pride and of a shallow and cowardly method of self-preservation.

Often, I listen through selective listening, that is, listening to hear what I expect to hear. This is also true of my perception of the world: my presumption made me see what I expected to see, so I was not surprised or disappointed, only self-justified—another defense mechanism, another way for me to shield myself from the world. In my head, I rarely give people a chance, similar to how the humans eschew chickenheads in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? What I need is to practice empathetic listening, that is, “listening with intent to understand…seeking first to understand, to really understand.” [3]

[4] For this potion, we will need compassion and patience, with a touch of emotional intelligence.

My solution is to be found in a mixture that I will deem as “tolerance”, and it must be comprised half of compassion and half of patience, two traits that make up what I believe to be tolerance, at its core. I must seek to understand first and be understood later. I must allow people to show me what they have to offer, rather than judge them based on what I think they have to offer. Most importantly, I must find it within myself to learn to love and sympathize without distracting thoughts barring me from the possibility of discovering everyone’s ability to be amazing.

[5] Learning to be a good listener has never proved more difficult.

My first plan of action was to learn empathy. I decided to listen to people without judgment; instead I attempted, with each word they said, to look at the world as they saw it. This was nothing short of exhausting, for I found myself hanging on to every word and rolling it around on my own tongue. As a result, I noticed the increased enthusiasm and appreciation that alighted from my test subjects, for they could see genuine comprehension and identification in my face: they elicited a sincere, engaged response from me, not just the automatic “yeah”, “uh-huh”, or “right”. With this practice, instead of hearing the things my friends said and judging them for it, I was appreciating their words and trying to make their experience my own. The stony marble that was my intolerance had begun to chip away.

The second part of my transformation involved the full embodiment of compassion, and I needed to apply it to the one person of whom I was most intolerant: my roommate. One of my greatest sources of fury with her is the thunderous plucking of keys that emanates from her laptop long after I have gone to bed. Nightly, I lie in bed, seething with anger as I hear the “tap, tap, tap” of her instant messaging, tossing my comforter in annoyance and sighing pointedly. Countless times, I have imagined jerking out of bed and shouting at her until her face is reduced to naught but a slick plate of tears.

[6] This baby’s terrifying anger is very much akin to what I felt.

Last night was no different: I was in bed by twelve o’clock, having spent the night hurrying from obligation to obligation, and having managed to finish all of my homework in a satisfactory manner. My roommate, meanwhile, had lane in bed all day, skipped her first two classes, and was still chatting away on instant messenger and clicking through Facebook. I felt myself quailing with imminent rage.

Sure enough, her typing did not cease, nor did she make any effort to be less loud. I felt my fists clench, and the scream that I knew was inevitable began to build up in my throat. This was when I forced myself to remember that each human is just as emotionally complex as me, and like me, they only wish to be understood. Shouting and throwing things would be no use, and hurling biting insults at her would only satisfy the hurtful part of me. Instead, I sat up calmly, and rationally explained to her how bothersome her late night actions were. I tried to extend as much compassion as possible, by telling her that I understood she needed to talk to her friends. Finally, I offered a conciliatory solution of her having more awareness of my sleeping needs, and being quieter or going to sleep earlier.

The decision I made to extend my emotional sympathy, I feel, has served me for the better. Not only did I come out victorious, but I also came out of the situation maintaining a high head and all my humanity. This experience is the beginning of my increased awareness to the emotions of those around me.

[7] Compassion is one of the key elements of being a human.

The change has not been easy. My intolerance and judgment have been so ingrained, so subconscious, that it comes with everything I do. In the future, tolerance and the emotional sympathy required of it, is one of the most important traits I will need to be successful, for regardless of the career I choose, I will be working with people of all types. If I shunned everyone because I was intolerant of his or her intelligence level, mannerisms, or interests, I would be very hard pressed to find a satisfying work environment. In the workplace, it is extremely important to tolerate someone even if you do not enjoy his or her company, because it is all about the team, not the individual. Instead, in the future, I must make a conscious effort to extend my emotional intelligence, most of all to the people with whom I do not agree. I do not see this as a compromise of my own beliefs, but as a way to be an emotionally informed human being.

Word Count: 1400

[1] Live Science. .
[2] Picasa Web Albums. .
[3] Covey, Stephen R. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2004.
[4] Tennis Planet. .
[5] Harvard Literary Blog. .
[6] Cool Free Images. .
[7] Real Food Tulsa. .

Religion and the Environment

2009-02-09T15:00:00.001-08:00

Blue Ridge Mountains - Fleet Foxes

lyrics here

Humanities are the study of the human condition, thus animal humanities is the study of the animal conditions and the “different treatment of animals and humans” (X98). By now, I’ve written extensively on the treatment of animals, so I thought with this DB, I would focus more on the environment, which is every bit as important to me as those of animal issues.

Jainism is the most extreme example of a benevolent and respectful religion, believing that every soul is divine, and that no harm shall be caused to living beings.

It is widely accepted that “human belief and practice mark the earth”, yet the two most popular “beliefs” (religions) that dominate this earth say very little about the human’s practices toward nature and the environment. The lack of interest in the state of the environment could thus be attributed the little emphasis placed in these religions. However, the thought of giving back to the environment is not altogether new and foreign; in fact, “This moral concept can be traced back further: from Buddha to Hinduism and the Rig-Veda, the Indus civilization perhaps, and then to Mesopotamia and Egypt; while the Pythagorean school owed much to the Orphic religion, the Eleusinian Mysteries and the cult of Dionysus, which, again, can be traced back to Egypt.” (X110)

An image from ‘The Giving Tree’, a children’s book that depicts a rather cute, albeit accurate relationship between a human and a tree.

One thing that has always struck me about Eastern religions is their focus on “life, not the human person” (X96). To me, Western religions like Judaism, Christianity, and Islam deal more with the human and its relationships with other humans, and less with nature. They have “created a dominantly human-focused morality.” (X94) I always found myself more drawn to the natural world, which is why it was hard for me to believe and exercise “God above nature” (X94). I believe that one should respect each plant, tree, and river, and exercise “friendliness (maitri) and compassion (karuna)” (X97) to every living thing, because even without the function of speech and emotions, it is still “an organic entity” (Dick 198), which is what we all are.

With an entire platter of religions from which we can choose, it is easy to see overlapping morals and beliefs.

Religions which focus on the environment just as much as the human, I think, are much more in tune with the world, and are able to see the bigger picture. They understand that there can be peaceful coexistence, and most importantly, they understand that the right of life, which is universal in ever religion, applies not only to the human, but also to every single thing on this earth.

Relationship to the Animal Kingdom

2009-01-28T14:32:00.000-08:00

Hearts On Fire - Cut Copy

lyrics here

Awesome male + cute dog = collective “awww” around the world.

You will find that many girls, when asked what qualities they find attractive in a mate, will respond with ‘kindness to animals’. This is not because girls are naïve, fantastical beings who believe in world peace and fluffy kittens, but because the way in which a human treats an animal offers sight into ‘the abyssal limit of the human: the inhuman or the ahuman, the ends of man…the border crossing from which vantage man dares to announce himself…calling himself by the name that he believes he gives himself.” (Derrida 26) If anything, it is the best indicator of the compassion and sympathy within others, for the way in which a human treats an animal is an example of the adage "If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

Lord of the Flies shows the depravity that can overcome the ‘human spirit’

Humans put themselves on such a high pedestal; we believe that our capacity for intelligence and emotions far exceeds those of animals, yet we turn a blind eye to the things that make us depraved and sick. We forget that as humans we are still capable of rape, torture, and murder. While the thought processes that go into making decisions of whether or not to act on these urges is attributed to humans, I believe that a decision to commit any of the three examples listed above lowers the human and makes them “no better than a brute” (X35), a “BEAST” (X35). We also forget the emotions such as jealousy, greed, pride, and hatred, that when acted upon, can really make us inhuman. As the Cheshire cat says, “We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” (Derrida 24)

So perhaps what makes us “human”, what we define as “one of the ‘properties’ of man” (Derrida 22) is not our ability to think, but our ability to feel and to make a choice regarding that feeling. This, I believe, is what allows us to give ourselves the title of “being humane” (X37), because it is within us to act with “civility, courtesy, politeness, good behavior; KINDNESS, [and] obligingness.” (X37) When we are faced with someone in pain, we feel sympathy for them and “a desire to relieve it” (X41), but what truly makes the human being amazing is its ability to act on that feeling.

Baby chicks, not nuggets.

We then forget the feeling that is shared with the most fervor between humans and animals: love. For those who argue that a mother bear protects its cubs because it is hereditary, that the it simply has instincts to protect it’s genes, and that these actions are masked by the feeling of love, I say that the same argument could be made for humans, that any of our feelings are simply because they are “programmed” (Dick 59) into our genes, thereby making us no more than androids. As Bentham states, “the question is not, Can they reason? Nor, Can they talk?” (Bentham 47). We should not be asking questions about animals, but about ourselves. Do we have the capacity for compassion? Can we make rational decisions? The answer is yes, and because it is so, because humans are able to resist temptations and ignorance with wisdom and gather within a “community of feeling” (X43), then it is our RESPONSIBILITY, our DUTY, to relieve “the suffering or distress of another” (X41).

Darwin 3

2009-01-26T13:26:00.000-08:00

Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode

lyrics here

Groups like these make me question the “love and acceptance” that claims to be within religion.

I think it’s absolutely wonderful that people have found something in which to believe, and that it is something that can bring souls together. And while I do not yet know what my exact denomination is, I know the importance of accepting other people’s differences and respecting their religious beliefs. This world, after all, was made to inspire variety. My biggest qualm with religion, however, is the way it has been used to abuse others. A particularly strong example is “God Hates Fags” (http://www.godhatesfags.com), an anti-homosexual website of the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas. These are the same people who decided to picket Heath Ledger and Bernie Mac’s funerals, because of the former’s role in Brokeback Mountain and the latter being African-American. Other obvious examples are the September 11th attacks, which were, once again, based on a twisted belief in a certain religion.

While I know that the majority of religious affiliations do not carry their beliefs to these extremes, such examples as the aforementioned seem contradictory to me in religion. I always thought of “God as a loving being” (Darwin 654), and seeing people use their religion as an excuse to hurt others is enough to make me shun faith entirely.

Not exactly the way in which I would have said it, but you get the point.

At this point, I don’t know if I believe in a god. The creative, spiritual side of me wants to believe in something bigger, for how could I not, when I see all of the beauty in the world? But then the rational, scientific part of me kicks in, reminding myself of the “attributes of woe” (Tennyson CXVIII) and “evil dreams” (Tennyson LV) that exist in the world, and especially all of the phenomenon that have already been explained by science. The thing is, I don’t quite like having my fate in the hands of someone else. I don’t like the idea of my future being decided by whether or not I make Someone pleased with my actions on Earth.

Forget Harvey Dent—I believe in Jenny Zhang.

To this day, I have come to only one solid belief that has not wavered, and that is a belief in myself, in people. I believe that all I have accomplished in my life is because of my actions and the actions of others, not because of some higher power. I see religion as a way for people to find hope and strength in what is, ultimately, their own selves. They are simply using religion, a “trust [in] the larger hope” (Tennyson LV) as a means to get to that point. For if you think about it, isn’t everyone’s definition of god different? I feel that many people mould the idea of what their god is like to satisfy their lifestyle and to best apply it to a situation. Stevenson states that, “if no god existed, nature was but a vast machine indifferent to the sufferings of living beings” (Darwin 654), but I disagree: the nonexistence of a god does not mean that compassion and love do not exist, just as the existence of a god does not mean that evil and hate do not exist.

At the same time, I believe that man has used God and the omnipotent as a way to blame and explain away the ills of the world. “He has invented supernatural forces, finding it easier to suffer when he can rail at God and Fate for his ills.” (Darwin 654). Again, in times like these, it seems to me that people are just shirking their responsibilities and using God as a scapegoat.

Not only does Zen Buddhism agree the most with what I believe, but it makes me feel closer to my relatives, despite the huge gap that exists between us.

I suppose my beliefs are most in line with Zen Buddhism, and that is what I have identified with most to this day. It is not so much of a religion as a philosophy, for its followers do not worship a god. Religion or no religion, what I believe is most important is acceptance and understanding of those who have different beliefs. This is why I recently picked up a copy of the Bible: I want to understand, and I do not wish to choose one specific thing without knowing what else is out there. Everyone wants to believe in something, be it a god, no god, or several gods.

Darwin 2

2009-01-21T16:50:00.000-08:00

Under Pressure - Queen & David Bowie

lyrics here

These Victoria’s Secret models may be the ‘fittest’ in the body department, but what of their minds and their characters?

My view of being the “fittest” is being the “best”, and while a quick definition of “the best” may include in terms of wealth, beauty, offspring, and brains, I extend the definition to include compassion, empathy, kindness, and overall goodness. In my big picture of the world, I judge people based on how good of humans they are, and this does not measure only their financial or physical accomplishments, but their decency. This take on life is idyllic, I’ll admit, but I am someone who often goes on feeling, and the trait which I value above all else in others, is “the duty to be loving and kind” (Ruse, Wilson 510)

Of course in the world of careers, this sentiment is often ignored, because many employers care for the quality of the work, not the quality of the person behind it. In almost any field of work, it is preferable to outdo and outwit others vying for a position, because at the end of the day, it is ‘every man for himself’. “Two parties can strike a mutually profitable bargain, but each could gain still more by withholding its contribution.” (Nowak, May, Sigmund 403) The world of careers is one ridden with competition, jealousy, and double-dealings. It may be nearly impossible to promote an environment in which healthy competition governs the workplace.

In Japan, this proverb is regarded as the Golden Rule

I do agree with the idea that “ethics is a shared illusion of the human race.” (Ruse, Wilson 510) It seems that only humans have this code of what is right and what is wrong, and the fact that this code has been molded and changed throughout the centuries is proof of its arbitrary nature. Incest was once encouraged, slavery glorified, and the oppression of women was once accepted; yet all of these things violate our moral code today. I believe that what exists today are “human ethics based upon love and personal sympathy.” (Kropotkin 400)

The character Dwight Schrute on The Office is the very extreme of someone who will do anything to get ahead in the workplace.

I very much agree that “those who desire to improve may do so; to give those who desire to rise the aids by which they may rise; to assist, but rarely or never to do all.” (Carnegie 397), and perhaps it is that best sums up my idea of the perfect balance of compassion and competition in both the workplace, and life. Without either, we would not be the species we are today, and a mixture of the two can bring out the best qualities in each person.

The Portfolio Exam

2009-01-19T21:44:00.000-08:00

This website taught me all I ever needed to know about HTML, and introduced me to the possibilities of web design.

There exists a place on the Internet called “Neopets.com”, in which every child’s grader’s dreams are realized, in which one can live in a virtual world, much like Second Life, but for children. This is where I spent the majority of my youth, taking care of “pets” and attempting to earn money dubbed “neopoints”. It was at this website that I first learned HTML, whilst trying to add moving text and colored fonts to my shop.

The instructions on the website referred to the use of a website maker, such as Dreamweaver or FrontPage, but I have always had difficulty using such programs. I actually tried using iWeb, but to my disappointment, it was confusing and impossible for me to understand. Thus, using the method of “forging ahead and muddling through”, I decided to use HTML to make the website. I actually prefer diving straight into the backbone of what makes a webpage look the way it does, for it is much easier for me to rearrange and redesign when I can see the problem firsthand. While HTML seems complicated to a beginner, all it takes is a good tutorial site and ten minutes to understand the structure of the language.

Even within these two companies, there exist hundreds of different operating systems.

I disagree with the statement that “mindlessness has replaced mindfulness.” I am confident that every single student in our class read and reread the instructions for the website portfolio, and went even further to question previous students. However, computers are never a “sure thing”, and with scores of different operating systems, interfaces, and browsers floating about, just one pure set of instructions aimed at only two operating systems is bound to cause confusion.

“Though they were highly verbal, like other college students they seemed to prefer someone showing them what to do, an instant fix, rather than “reading,” detailed directions." While I do agree that the act of reading instructions, especially with something one already knows how to accomplish, can be cursory, I do not think the quoted sentiment applies to our assignment. I believe that everyone, even me, would have appreciated and followed, to a T, a detailed list of instructions, especially with something as new and confusing as website technology. Not many students have been asked to deal with the creation of a website before, at least not in the scale and amount of categorizing asked of us, and even though the instructions on the website were helpful, they certainly did not address every problem that one could have encountered along the way.

First Semester Experiences

2009-01-19T20:26:00.000-08:00

Who Are You - The Who

(lyrics here)

The typical scene at Town Lake: Joggers, baby strollers, and half-naked men.

I had forgotten just how beautiful Town Lake looks in the morning. I had forgotten the sting of cold air in my lungs at the inhale, the feeling of rocks in my running shoes, and the way that the sun rippled itself across the water, floating like an oily orb. Crew teams rowed past, their coaches’ orders amplified by microphones, and dogs passed by with belabored pants, tongues flopping as their owners urged them to run faster. It was a great feeling to be back on the familiar turf of the place that had known me so well before I had gone to college.

During the break, I somehow managed to drag myself to Town Lake everyday, often alone, because I found that I had a nasty habit of waking up at two o’clock in the afternoon, which was the time during which all of my friends were busy. Previously, I could not even stand on the trail without a friend by my side, petrified at the prospect of being alone. After being completely surrounded by people all the time at UT and in the presence of my roommate even when it was least expected and largely despised, I discovered that being alone was the most wonderful feeling. Over the break, I relished my time at Town Lake, alone, triumphant, having two to three hours to myself, doing naught but walking and running towards blinding sunlight.

One of my favorite haunts: Mozart’s Coffee. I spend more time here than is healthy, and I don’t even like coffee.

I do not think that this “alone time” made me into a recluse, instead, it brought out independence. After Town Lake, what else was I willing to try by myself? To avoid hurt friends and slighted engagements, I ventured forth during the daytime, settling into coffeehouses with a book in tow, hiking through Wild Basin and secluding myself between the rocks, and even volunteering to do menial errands for my mother, glad at the opportunity to hone my growing independence more.

In a way, I am grateful to my first semester at UT, thankful for the ceaseless noise and the ever so torrential crowds that flooded me, for it brought out a side of me that I had previously thought to be a depressing thing. I have come to realize that being alone is not necessarily a negative thing, for it forces me to be more independent, something that I lack significantly.

This eager child was the exact opposite of me in grade school.

With independence also comes leadership, something that we hammered on profusely in class first semester (and I assume second semester as well). Previously, I was only vaguely aware that I was often hesitant to voice my opinions, and in front of my friends, I often swallowed rebuttals and forced myself to agree with them to avoid altercations. In high school, I always waited for someone else to say what I wanted to say, hoping that they would ask the questions I wanted answered. In retrospect, these memories make me squirm, but I still find myself guilty of these actions from time to time. This is what I had hoped the University would dissolve, for it is “’the tree of knowledge’ and ‘the paradise of the learned’.” (X638) The idea of a university that I had before I started my semester was that of a place that taught me things that would make me a cultured and well rounded. My current conception of a university, now standing on the other side of the year, is that it is integral to teaching attributes and whetting characteristics that can carry on through life.

The most important things I learned from my first semester at UT were not the lessons taught in classes, but things about myself that I wanted to change or improve. Newman’s idea of a University, that “it is more correct, as well as more usual, to speak of a University as a place of education, than of instruction…” (X310) applies wholly to my experience thus far, for I believe that education calls for learning through experience, while instruction entails information being doled out. Just as Jude thought of a university as a “city of light” (Hardy 23), I am faithful that my future experiences at UT will reveal more and more the type of person I wish to be.

Longhorns and Totem Animals

2008-11-17T12:37:00.001-08:00

Wolf LIke Me - TV on the Radio

(This is one of my favorite songs, and I've been waiting for the right time to use it. Finally! Lyrics here)

The history of the longhorn is written all over the spirits of Texas and UT

On very lazy Sunday mornings, I sometimes eat at a table in Kinsolving that has a very large painting of longhorns overlooking it. The painting describes that the longhorn represents independence, fortitude, and adaptability, for “he moved elementally with drouth, grass, blizzards, out of the Arctic and the wind from the south” (X819). These are also the characteristics the University of Texas hopes to instill within its students, thus why the longhorn is the mascot. Of course, to my friends from camp, the longhorn signifies only a lethargic and slightly dumb animal. These are also the friends who have come to associate Texans with chewing reeds, playing banjos, and wearing boots with spurs.

Texas is one of the few places where passersby smile back

I have lived in other states before moving to Texas, and I can say that Texas is a state that I’m proud of. I have never felt a greater sense of pride and camaraderie here, and I believe that the University of Texas tries to keep the independent Texas spirit alive with the idea of the longhorn. “The Longhorn comes to connote courage, fighting ability, nerve, lust of combat, efficiency in deadly encounters, and the holy spirit of never-say-die.” (X886) Although many of the students at UT are not hoping to engage in battle or such “deadly encounters”, the fighting spirit of the longhorns is something that all students have learned to appreciate in themselves.

Another connotation of the longhorn is his love for the places he came from, something that UT takes great pride in. Not only does this school hope to educate and mold its students into freethinking, passionate, and successful individuals, but it also wishes to instill the love and pride of home, of the university. “The Longhorn was also a home lover and a persistent returner to his querencia” (X820). As these students are out forging their way in “No Man’s Land” (X825), they also remember the place they came from, the place that allowed them such opportunities. They remember, and they are thankful, even nostalgic, and when they return, they return with love and a sense of pride.

“Last night, I dreamt I was chasing a pack of wolves, trying to belong.”

For UT, the Longhorn is the “totem animal”, the one with which the University and its students feel the most “similarity and unity” (X901). My personal “totem animal”, with which I feel “the psychological…kinship” (X901), is the wolf. It inspires in me both awe and fright, for it is mysterious and savage, harkening back to the old secrets of the world. I identify greatly with the wolf, for it is close with its family, yet also a loner. Its territorial habits, the way in which it cares for the members of its pack, and the haunting, forlorn sound of its howls all fascinate me. To me, wolves are mythological, magical, and beautiful creatures.

The Mustangs

2008-11-12T12:39:00.000-08:00

Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros

(It's in Icelandic)

The Chinese character for “horse”

My mother takes the Chinese zodiac very seriously, and has enforced our family to wear a red string around our waists when the year is of our animal. Currently, my father is the unfortunate victim of such an act. Not only does such a practice bring luck, my mother claims, but it shows respect to the animal. I, like many of the class of 2012, was born in the year of the horse. The horse personality is very much associated with liberty and freedom. My mother describes them as being confident and strong, and most of all, independent. Their attitude of “DON’T FENCE ME IN” (X844) carries from the heaving muscles of their flanks to “rollers in [their] nose” (X849).

My love and adoration for horses has not quite extended to the extremes depicted in Peter Shaffer’s play Equus

When I was little, if I found someone to be rather handsome, I would describe them as ‘looking like a horse’. This was because I could not find any other way to convey the nobility of their looks, nor the strength and royal way they carried themselves. Others always balked at my remarks, but I knew that my comparison of a person to a horse was the highest form my flattery could take. These animals are majestic and mysterious, with “every high snort bugling out the pride of the free” (X877). I believe that the most attractive thing about a horse is its wild and unlimited nature. Being able to see “wild horses streaming across the prairies” (X847) or watching the wind streak through their manes really makes one feel like they are witnessing something mystical, something forgotten in this modern world.

“Only the sense of being in place gives natural horse or natural man contentment” (X851). What pleasure a horse must derive from galloping in the open fields, just as a man would receive joy at being able to do what he wishes! When we take a horse, or any other animal for that matter, away from its natural surroundings, we are doing to it what no man would want for himself. Being able to BE has now become one of my central arguments for animals, for isn’t that what any living creature wishes for? In this day and age in which we pride individuality and coexistence with other cultures, shouldn’t we extend this practice to nonhumans, who have just as much right to be here as we do?

Power, strength and freedom: three characteristics I have come to associate with the horse.

Now, reverting back to the argument for the humane treatment of animals, if we cannot extend our sympathetic imagination to understand their pain and suffering at our hands, let us instead try to acknowledge the freedom that they deserve, that we all deserve. It is something we value, especially in this country, and if we cannot appreciate the “spirit of freedom” (X842) that all animals have to climb, run, gallop, and simply to BE, then we have not understood the concept very well at all.

COETZEE 2

2008-11-10T22:36:00.000-08:00

The epic Battle at Kruger, in which buffalos, lions, and crocodiles engage in warfare.

Through all of our discussion on animal cruelty and behavior towards them, we have not yet focused on some other large uses animals hold for us: clothing and entertainment. I will touch upon both, since my argument against their use for food has been exhausted.

This life sure looks better than the one the polar bear had before...

I have never really enjoyed going to zoos; the stench of the cages, coupled with the doe eyed look of the gorillas has always made me more depressed than when I walked in. For a gorilla kept in such a cage, “From seeing only bars, his seeing is exhausted.” (Rilke X763) Imagine being torn from your world of freedom and greenery, and all the nuances of your daily routine, only to sit in a stone cold floor, trying to ignore the people poking at the cage. Surely, this is a life that no one wants to lead.

While I agree that there are endangered animals that benefit from the ideas of zoos, I believe that it would be much better to place them in locations such as Yellowstone, or more authentic land that matches their previous domain. Zoos seem cruel to me, with the confined cages and artificial surroundings. This entertainment is trivial, and the animal is tormented for the brief entertainment it can offer humans.

Couldn't we use pleather to achieve the same look?

The notion that “As in any genuine human-to-human friendship, our relationship is predicated on mutual respect and reciprocity” (Smuts X759), does not completely hold true for all humans. While many pet owners show this sort of love and compassion for their dogs or cats, industries such as fur and leather are completely robbing the animal of its life, and for what? The fur for the coat that we don’t need? The leather for the interior of a car that we could imitate with other materials? Our standard of living has risen to the point of impossibility, and our souls are suffering for it.

I will never forget the image of the animal’s fur being torn from its body as it was still alive, fighting furiously.

“Every living creature fights for its own, individual life” (Coetzee 99), and I believe that as creatures also fighting for our lives, we should at least try to understand the horrors of such an act. “I do think it is appropriate that those who pioneered the industrialization of animal lives and the commodification of animal flesh should be at the forefront of trying to atone for it.” (Coetzee 107) I agree with this statement: if those who wish to have such commodities claim to care for animals at all, it is partly their responsibility to find another way of attaining their goals. Those who have ripped fur off a minx, or who have torn off a cow’s skin, they are the ones who deserve the task of finding alternative methods.

11/6 Discussion Plan

2008-11-05T22:45:00.000-08:00

11/6 Discussion Plan:

Mostly everyone agreed that animals have feelings or are at least cognitive beings:

• Russell: “Granted, dogs will never be able to comprehend love as humans do, but this does not mean that it isn’t derived from the same origin. So, if love is an adaptation, then wouldn’t it be possible for all animals to love?”
• Dana: “Of course animals can feel! Emotions are, at their very core, chemical responses triggered by varying stimuli.”
• David: “But there are different ways of ‘thinking’… Not all humans think in the same way. So I can’t see why they same wouldn’t hold true between humans and animals.”

We discriminate animals because they don’t look, think, or speak like us:

• Lydia: “Simply because they don't look like us, can't speak like us, can't drive a car or design computers, we tend to see animals as base creatures below us.”
• David: “People so often justify our superiority over animals and our mistreatment of them by giving the excuse that we are capable of reason and higher intelligent thought.”
• Ben: “As humans, we tend to perceive our beings as the more intellectual, and I think we do so for a couple of reasons. One specifically is our ability to adapt and adopt.”
• Jennifer: “We try to justify our actions by saying we’re more intelligent, animals eat each other too, and that we’re doing what is more economical.”
• Saumya: “Intelligence is relative. In all honesty, I wonder if the animal who knows what it takes to live efficiently is a hell of a lot smarter than the human who dabbles in indulgences that aren't needed for survival. Sometimes, it seems like as a species we've made life a lot harder for ourselves.”
• Jenny: “But because we label ourselves as “intelligent” and above all other kingdoms of life, isn’t it within us to use our intelligence to further the advancement of our methods of consumption? Shouldn’t we use our technology and resources to find other ways to obtain our food, ways that do not involve the killing of an innocent animal”

All seem to agree that the sympathetic imagination is necessary to understand the plight of these animals, and perhaps allow a solution to our treatment of them. However, how can we accomplish this if we can’t even seem to do this for humans?

• Mary: “We need to respect each other in order to successfully co-habitat on this earth. Without balance, destruction will arise.”
• Dana: “I ask that you extend your sympathetic imagination anyway. Take a moment to understand what pain is and how it feels to a nonhuman animal.”
“Humans are terrified of the realization that “animals are like us in some essential way”
Obviously, we all touched on the topic of respecting nature, but do you think it is within the capacity of humans, who are always reaching higher and wanting more, to actually act on this?
• Brian: “I find that the greatest chasm in my mind to cross over is the bridge of the sympathetic imagination. I find it hard enough to extend to other humans.”
• Lydia: “We don't fight for survival, we fight for our indulgence, our materialism, and want for luxury.”

Does the “elitism” of human beings extend to vegetarians or animal rights activists when claiming morally superior positions?

• Brian: Further, Coetzee’s novel poses the question whether “vegetarians are really trying to save animals, or only trying to put themselves in a morally superior position to other humans.”[12]
• Ben: “I am tired of sitting in discussion being judged because of the things I believe. I find it very often that someone brings up a topic and is trumped because another disagrees, or rolls eyes at the comment.”
Do you ever think this issue of the role animals play in our lives could be resolved? Because eventually you’re stepping into things like, are we exploiting animals when we keep them as pets, or are we exploiting them when we use them in films.
• Mary: “The first and most practical way to ending animal cruelty is by eliminating our own wasteful tendencies. If everyone would actually eat the food they have received before they get more, the amount of food demanded would dramatically decrease. Thus, the amount of animals killed for our food would reduced.”
• Samantha: “Animal killing, on the other hand, is something that happens in that natural order of the animal kingdom. Humans are not the only animals that kill other living animals.”
• Lydia: “Everyone believes in contrasting moral views; it's too difficult to come to a compromise, and I don't think we'll ever be completely satisfied with not only the subject of animal abuse, but abortion, gay rights, prostitution, etc. I think we'll always have this constant battle between, persay, the carnivores and the vegetarians.”

Is it possible for us to give up our money and time to provide better conditions for these animals? (Prop 2 passed)

• Doesn’t it seem, though, that in the grand scheme of things, animal rights always figures at the very bottom?
• Russell: “The cheapest way to kill an animal is certainly not the most humane, but we rarely encounter businesses that are willing to spend extra money.”

•Austyn: "The word is a complex machine of give and take, and we’re the only species who constantly takes but never gives. If we’re such intelligent beings, capable of such sophisticated things then why haven’t we figured out a way to give back to the hand that has feed our existence for millions of years?"

Brian brought up an interesting point: that most animal rights activists are also pro-life. However, many of the vegetarians I know are pro-choice. To be discussed in class…

A question that seems to be prevalent in all of our discussion boards: Are you a vegetarian for the animal or for you?

• Kajal: “It is how we are raised. It is a question of our personal philosophy.”

Discuss in class:

Ben discusses the “elitism” of the superior morals of animal rights activists

Andrew discusses the idea of those who farm their animals and care for them in ways that large factory farms do not.

The Lives of Animals

2008-11-05T13:18:00.000-08:00

Disney movies instill in the youth a compassion for animals that can also help in compassion for other people

I imagine that many people think that someone who is intent upon the rights of animals, especially when discussing their unnecessary use in such luxuries as clothing and food, believe that he or she has “delicate sensibilities” (Coetzee, 60). People refer to these sentiments as “propaganda against cruelty to animals” (Coetzee, 61), but what harm is there in listening to ‘propaganda’ that is against the ill treatment of other beings? Why are humans so selfish and intent on trivializing the sufferings of others? Costello is criticized because “opinions on animals, animal consciousness and ethical relations with animals are jejune and sentimental” (Coetzee, 61). I say that there is nothing shameful or naïve about treating everything with respect.

The lion, seen as an extremely violent and terrifying creature, differs from us in its dependence on certain types of food.

“By treating fellow human beings, beings created in the image of God, like beasts, they had themselves become beasts” (Coetzee, 65). If we pride ourselves so much on being “human” and above all of the characteristics of the “savage” animal world, why then, do we kill other animals, just as a lion (identified as a savage animal) would kill another animal? If it is within us to be able to survive without having to go to such lengths, why don’t we? The key difference between the lion and us is that we can survive solely by eating plants. A lion does not know the difference between right and wrong, granted the right thing to do for a lion is to kill for food and survival.

Would you say that this artichoke is alive or dead?

Of course the argument is brought up that vegetarians are hypocritical because they don’t consider plants to have feelings. Isn’t it just as inhumane to kill a plant for food, as it is to kill an animal? My feelings on this subject are thus: if we are to survive, we must nourish ourselves. However, the lowest level of nourishment we can accomplish is that of eating plant life and vegetation, and it also achieves the least amount of repercussions, for plants are able to reproduce even after they have been digested, while animals are not. We must survive somehow, and this is the lowest level of survival we can manage. Of course, as always in this sort of situation, something must lose its life; that is the natural order of things. But because we label ourselves as “intelligent” and above all other kingdoms of life, isn’t it within us to use our intelligence to further the advancement of our methods of consumption? Shouldn’t we use our technology and resources to find other ways to obtain our food, ways that do not involve the killing of an innocent animal?

Who could say that they wanted to be kept in a cage for the rest of their life?

“Animals have only their silence left with which to confront us” (Coetzee, 70). Since we cannot communicate directly with animals, we do not know for certain if they know love. But we do know that they feel fear. We know that when they crouch with their limbs shaking that they feel the same kind of terror we can feel. We know that they feel the need for survival, just as we do. Why isn’t this enough? Why are we looking for excuses to minimize an animal’s credibility? Why is it that the “ones that humans have…are more valuable than any that animals have?” (Singer, 744) Instead, shouldn’t we be thinking of what is right and what is wrong? What is morally right? Just because an animal is close to the human synapse does not make it any better than an animal who is not. We are all animals. We reside in different nations, in different groups, and it is this difference that makes the Earth so wonderful and successful. It is this difference that allows us to appreciate what the world has to offer.

The diversity of our Earth is something we should be thankful for, not exploit.

At best, our relationship with the Earth is parasitic; we take and give nothing back. In a perfect world, no one would have to owe anything to anyone. But we have drawn ceaselessly from the well of nature, and it us who owes the most to those we have wronged. If it is in our capacity to feel compassion and a moral sense of right and wrong, feelings that some people claim animals do not possess, then isn’t it up to us to act on these feelings? Our sameness is not in our speech or our backgrounds, but in our will to survive. We all inhabit the Earth, and if it is in our power to differentiate between right and wrong, we should consider our actions once more.

Earthlings

2008-11-03T13:53:00.001-08:00

I'll Believe in Anything by Wolf Parade

(lyrics here) This song is about wanting to save someone and see the world from their point of view

I grew up with Shadow, Sassy, and Chance from Homeward Bound

I have always been a dog person, a trait that extended far back into my childhood. It all started with a movie called Homeward Bound: Lost in San Francisco, a film about two dogs and a cat journeying through San Francisco to find their home again after they escaped in an airport. I obsessed over the movie for weeks afterward, dreaming of my future, ideally with six dogs in my company. I watched 101 Dalmatians every day, read The Call of the Wild fanatically, and pined for a dog of my own. My love for dogs became so strong that I eventually wished that I could become one. Naturally, I have grown out of this preoccupation, but my love for dogs has never waned.

When I visited China in 2004, our taxi stopped behind a truck with a cage full of dogs on the way to slaughter. To this day, the heartbreak I felt for those animals has remained. Not many people have seen that sort of defeat in an animal: these dogs had eyes that were no longer alive. They were shivering and crawling over one another, each trying to disappear, each trying to become smaller than their handlers had already made them.

Giving up BBQ, especially when one lives in Texas, has proven very difficult

Since that incident, I have been wary of eating meat. However, the pressures of my friends and family, as well as the track coach and the irresistible Rudy’s BBQ all managed to keep me from eliminating meat altogether from my diet.

Many weeks ago, I watched Earthlings after it was brought up in the movie discussion after the dream sequences lecture, and I was finally able to give up meat. My friend scoffed at me and pointed out that those examples shown in the film happen only rarely. But they do happen, I responded. Seeing men throwing chickens in chutes, hitting elephants, and deriding pigs made me livid : who are we to inflict such pain on others? This sort of treatment, condemned when carried out on humans, is overlooked in many cases involving animals. “It all comes down to pain and suffering…Pain and suffering are in themselves bad and should be prevented or minimized, irrespective of the race, sex, or species of the being that suffers.” (X729) My basic belief is this: no one (animal or human) should have to suffer at the hands of another.

Many people, including myself in the past, do not like thinking about what goes into the process of getting meat on their plate. Like the film says, “Who wants to look?” (X714) To reject an understanding of how humans use animals in inhumane and cruel ways is to allow oneself to be ignorant, just as it would be inconsiderate to not want to hear about the means in which some of our clothes are made. By not eating meat, I hope that one less baby cow is in demand to be slaughtered. By not buying sausage at the grocery store, I hope that the inventory calls for one less package of butchered pig.

My dog Alaska: Imagine your pet as the subject of experimentation, slaughter, or skinning.

To a human, being more powerful means being “smarter”, but the definition of mental capability is not the same for all species. We cannot possibly apply the definition of the word to animals, for it is not up to us to

decide the “smartness” of other species, especially when we have arbitrarily molded the word to fit our culture. What we define as intelligence may be completely useless to their ways of life. Not only have they been on this Earth longer than we have, but they have learned to adapt in ways we are just now beginning to understand. If anything, their “smartness” precedes us by many hundreds of years. Just as Earthlings says, “So beneath the many differences, there is sameness. Like us, these animals embody the mystery and wonder of consciousness. Like us, they are not only in the world, they are aware of it.” (X702)

I believe that because we have the ability to use technology to aid our adaption to the changing world, we should be able to refrain from using animals for achieving our means. We can survive by eliminating meat from our diets. Clothes look just as good if manufactured with fake leather or fur. Isn’t it our duty to give up a few luxuries, to become less selfish, in order to prolong all of the precious lives on this earth? “We are all animals of this planet. We are all creatures.” (X729) We cannot think of things as lesser beings just because they are different from us, and we cannot forget that we all contribute to the systems of the Earth.

Grimm’s Fairy Tales, the origin of many of today’s most famous childhood stories

In many cultures, animals are often given holy value. I remember many of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, in which animals were the mentors of the humans, and lessons are taught through them. This is very similar to the representation of animals in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, for Alice encounters many animals that are more enlightened and wiser than she. The caterpillar teaches Alice to “keep [her] temper” (Alice 49), and the Cheshire Cat is erudite, giving her advice on her actions throughout the book. Such stories encourage a respect for animals that the human race has often ignored, but “It takes nothing away from a human to be kind to an animal.” (X731) They are born, just like us. They are mothers and fathers, lovers and brothers. They, like us, only wish to survive.

My Alice the Hero

2008-10-29T18:03:00.000-07:00

Us Ones in Between by Sunset Rubdown

(Lyrics here)

Speaking up is hopefully something I will be comfortable with by the end of my college journey.

I have a very bad habit of being

rather shy about disagreeing or even voicing my opinion in strange and unfamiliar settings; often I find myself catering more to others’ wishes than my own. It is a habit I know I must break, for losing one’s sense of self, especially at this point in one’s life, can be detrimental.

Although many superheroes and comic book characters are not realistic in their heroism, Alice’s heroism is much akin to that of the Watchmen; both are simply normal people trying to find their way in the world.

We speak often of the Alice books as a parody of college life, and I think one of the most important aspects is the “heroism” of Alice. It is true that she is not a hero in the conventional sense: she has not created a cure for a disease, saved the lives of men in battle, or written an immensely popular help book (such as our good friend Covey). Alice lacks all of the qualities of the heroes of lore, but what I find most admirable about her is that she always acts according to herself, and does not permit the opinions of others to influence her.

Seeing Alice embark upon an entire adventure whilst staying true to herself seems rather heroic to me. She sticks up for herself by telling the Hatter, “You should learn not to make personal remarks…it’s very rude,” (Carroll 70) and does not allow others to slight her, as seen by her response to the Hatter’s impoliteness: “This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off.” (Carroll 77) She is precocious, inquisitive, and unyielding, and remains all of these things throughout her adventure, never allowing others to change her.

"You're nothing but a pack of cards!"

Being in college means new people and experiences, not all of which are helpful to our goals and wellbeing. In the onslaught of newness that will surround us through our college years, we must remember to stay true to ourselves and our beliefs like little Alice, and sometimes say, “Who cares for you? You’re nothing but a pack of cards,” (Carroll 124) to those who seek to tamper with our sense of self. It will not be easy, and it never was easy for Alice, but we must look to her as an example. At the end of our “curious dream” (Carroll 125), we will find ourselves stronger and able to handle the world.

Survival vs. Compassion

2008-10-27T15:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts by Wolf Parade

(lyrics here)

I believe that the argument of survival of the fittest vs. compassion does not have an absolute answer; a different response can be applied to certain conditions. For the purposes of this discussion, I will examine three examples: school, work, and the most extreme of situations. My goal in doing this is to exemplify that one cannot simply take a definite stance on one or the other; every different circumstance requires a different path of action.

Westlake High School, home of the crazed top ten percent, the (formerly) prestigious Chaparral football team, and the (also former) top physics program in the world.

Living in a state that utilizes the top ten percent rule acclimated me to the ridiculous emphasis on grades in high school. Being in the top ten percent meant automatic admission to all of Texas’ public universities, which was funny, because all of my peers in the top ten percent (myself included) wished to go anywhere but a public university in Texas. We all had our sights set on the Ivy Leagues, and Texas was at the bottom of our lists, yet still we competed and double dealt to surpass each other in rank. The slightest move from a rank of 33 to 32 was something to brag about. Help was not offered; only alluded to.

Looking back on that experience, I realize that I gained absolutely nothing, save for endless nights of studying and irrational jealousy at those who were above me in rank. Instead of learning and applying my education, my entire high school journey was a conquest of those lesser than I. I sneered at those who received lower grades and hid my understanding from others, so that they did not seek my help.

The lack of a rigid grading system in college threw me off completely. I could not compete as aptly if I did not know what I was competing for. Several of my classes do not even give out specific grades, so the desire to become “top of the class” was undermined. I began to realize the importance of working together and helping others, for in school, as in life, we are all working towards one common goal: Success. I “threw off old husks of prejudices.” (Hardy 276) For example, my three of my French classmates and I meet every other week to study for tests, something I would never imagine doing in high school. I found that “I could accumulate ideas, and impart them to others,” (Hardy 314) and that the act of helping others understand the material actually aided me in comprehension. Just as Jude states, “If that can be done…at college gates in the most religious and educational city in the world, what shall we say as to how far we’ve got?” (Hardy 257)

Don Draper of AMC’s Mad Men, played by Jon Hamm.

The media often depicts the successful businessman as one who slighted others on his way to the top. In real life, I do not believe that one can achieve such status by simply wronging others. The men who have the adulations are those who have succeeded brilliantly, but who have also been magnanimous and receptive in their accomplishments. In the workplace, I agree with Saumya and Brian in that we must have a balance between the idea of “survival of the fittest” and compassion. Take, for example, the rare character of Don Draper from the television show Mad Men: he is an extremely prestigious ad executive who has gotten where he is not only because he is a driven and competitive individual, but because he is good with people. He can cater to what his customers and clients want, but knows when to push and persuade them.

However, in this present day, I feel we must never forget that at the end of the day, it really is every man for himself. Compassion is a trait that is admirable and hopefully within every person, but too much of it can destroy the individual’s own goals and aspirations. Likewise, too much competitiveness can decimate relationships and thus sabotage the original purpose.

Tom Hanks knew that he had to sacrifice compassion in order to survive in the movie, Castaway.

In the direst of situations, however, those that deal with life and death, I believe that compassion must be minimized. Although I am a vegetarian, consider this scene (however unrealistic it may be): If given the choice to eat an animal or starve when stranded in the wild, which would you choose? Our compassion can only go so far; survival is one of our basest instincts, and in the end, it is the deciding factor.

College Dreams

2008-10-22T18:01:00.001-07:00

The Youth by MGMT

The obvious difference between college students and other students, besides homework load, maturity level, and age: coffee

In fifth grade, the ten mathematical problems assigned nightly for homework seemed unreasonable and tyrannical of my teacher. How was I supposed to complete this, my coloring sheets of a shark’s anatomy, AND draw a picture of Robert E. Lee for the next day? It seemed like too much. That morning, our teacher, Mrs. Knouse, scoffed at our misfortunes, claiming that she had spent entire days and nights doing homework that we could not even fathom. I was horrified; where was this awful place that bestowed upon the human more homework than the mind could imagine? She answered us with a sly grin: college.

Boy Meets World gave me unrealistic expectations about college. I blame you, Cory!

The news that college was one of the most difficult tasks of a person’s life was startling to me. I had always imagined it as a lax and easy doorway into the adult world. “These self-contained worlds delighted those who saw in them a life of ease combined with that of the mind; in the words of Henry James it offered a ‘charmed seclusion’.” (X636) Sure, I had known that there would be homework, but certain movies on the Disney Channel, a television show titled “Boy Meets World”, and books such as the Fear Street series gave me expectations about college that included entire afternoons free, endless nights of parties, and the kind of soft “glamour” that exudes from a college student; that of a mature and independent individual. When I lived in Oxford, Mississippi, I passed by the university daily and could hear the light banter of students on their way to classes. “Surely it was the sound of bells, the voice of the city, faint and musical, calling to him, ‘We are happy here!’ (Hardy 21)

I wanted to believe in the relaxed lifestyle of a college student, but everything was beginning to change about my perception: the homework load only seemed to rise, while the fun load only fell. Of course as I grew older, my dreams of what I wanted from my college changed: I wanted exciting people, interesting conversations, and most of all, an education that was wholly mine, not to be decided by a counselor or high school curriculum.

By the time I started my senior year in high school, I was more than ready to embark upon my college experience. I, much like Jude, exclaimed, “How ugly it is here!” (Hardy 13) and began to view my high school with more and more disdain. I had grown tired of the people by whom I was surrounded, disdainful of the petulant whines of my classmates, and bored with the cement coursework of my classes. I sought a higher level of being, a more exciting way to see the world. I saw “the university as ‘the tree of knowledge’ and ‘the paradise of the learned’.” (X638) What my college dream consisted of was emerging a whole and erudite individual, with the ability to succeed in whatever field I chose for myself, while having forged relationships that would hopefully last a lifetime.

"It is a city of light," he said to himself. (Hardy 23)

UT was not my first choice, nor my second choice. In fact, it was my last choice, but I suppose that because Columbia and Berkeley rebuffed my advances, I had to settle (I use the word settle loosely, because I am now realizing that my education here is anything BUT something I had merely to “settle” for.) for Plan II, a then mysterious entity. My path is as broad as the coursework I’m exploring, and although this is not exactly for what I first planned, I now realize that it is very close to what I had dreamed of my college education would be.

---

The Youth by MGMT

This is a call to arms
to live and love and sleep
together

We could flood the streets
with love or light or heat
whatever

Lock the parents out
cut a rug
twist and shout wave your hands
make it rain the stars will rise again

The youth is starting to change,
are you starting to change?
are you
together?

In a couple of years, tides have turned from
boos to cheers and in spite of
the weather, we can learn to make it
together

The youth is starting to change,
are you starting to change?
are you
together?

My Leadership Vision:

2008-10-15T20:24:00.000-07:00

Ragged Wood by Fleet Foxes

[i] The view of a tree from below; sunlight sneaks through like fairy lights and causes my childish imagination to run rampant.

We lay under a sprawling magnolia tree, caught under the penumbra of its branches. Our fingers dipped lazily into the plush lawn of grass that cushioned our soft and childish bodies, and all seemed pleasant in the world. It was a balmy day, and a haze of pink floated lightly across the sky, promising a coral colored evening. As we swayed to the hum of bees under this cavern of leaves, this quintessence of perfection, my eight-year-old self composed its first poem. It was simple, trite, and completely incorrect in terms of grammar and vocabulary, but I was content with my composition. It was at this time that I developed the first trickle of passion for nature, but I had not the faintest idea that such an experience could have also spawned the ardent love I hold for writing today. I will forever think of the way those branches intertwined and the sunlight peeked through when I think of writing.

“…a human imagination is shaped by the architectures it encounters at an early age…the way we imagine is also affected by streams of scent flowing faint or sharp in the larger oceans of air…” [ii]

I attribute my early romping in the fields of Mississippi to my current love for the countryside. Perhaps this is why I have always loved describing nature, rather than industrial objects. It has always been easy for me to surround a mountain with poetry or cover the ocean with a blanket of prose. Every story I’ve ever written has involved a great detail of place and has had an underlying emphasis on the significance of nature. As I read over my old essays and stories, a common theme emerges: whether blatant or symbolic, the environment permeates my words.

“And it is that single thing, the power of the human imagination to extrapolate from an odd handful of things—faint movement in a copse of trees, a wingbeat, the damp cold of field stones at night—to make from all this a pattern—the human ability to make a story, that fixed in me a sense of hope.” [iii]

[iv]

[v]

William Faulkner and John Steinbeck: both beautiful writers, both made their careers out of their environments.

Two men I admire very much for their ability to incorporate the environment into their works are William Faulkner and John Steinbeck. Not only are they masterful storytellers, but the loyalty they harbor for their respective places is admirable, and communicates a great impact on the reader. Faulkner is well known for his focus on the decadence of his home state Mississippi, while Steinbeck concentrated on his beloved Salinas Valley in California. Steinbeck says, in particular, of his masterpiece East of Eden, that it is “...the story of my country and the story of me.” [vi] Writing about your environment is, in many ways, writing about yourself. These two men have taken their darling hometowns, and have constructed novels that not only use nature as a frame, but that also comment on the human condition.

“The real topic of nature writing, I think, is not nature but the evolving structure of communities from which nature has been removed, often as a consequence of modern economic development…It is writing concerned, further, with the biological and spiritual fate of those communities. It also assumes that the fate of humanity and nature are inseparable.” [vii]

Through their words, my first revelation appeared in regards to my love of both nature and writing, and most of all, of making an impact: I cannot simply write about nature. As much as I enjoy describing bark or sand, such indulgences should be saved for poetry. I must also be able to tell a story that nature surrounds and either affects or is affected by, a story that touches people and makes them ruminate.

“If you’re intimate with a place, a place with whose history you’re familiar, and you establish an ethical conversation with it, the implication that follows is this: the place knows you’re there. It feels you. You will not be forgotten, cut off, abandoned." [viii]

I feel that writing and nature are very similar in what they demand of a person. They both require a sort of vulnerability: to write truthfully is to bare your soul for criticism and to be felt, while to be affected by nature is to allow yourself to feel and experience without attachments or selfishness. Thus I feel that I must meld the two in order to accomplish a greater goal, for my concerns with the population’s declining interest and care for nature refuses to lay dormant. In this aspect, I must become a “leader”.

“However, intellect alone will not make a leader; leaders execute a vision by motivating, guiding, inspiring, listening, persuading—and, most crucially, through creating resonance.” [ix]

[x] Walden Pond, where Henry David Thoreau was inspired to write his masterpiece Walden.

Guiding and inspiring are the most important words in the aforementioned quote. I seek not to viciously attack or offend anyone’s opinion, but to provide arguments that make people think. My personal vision as a leader is somewhat different from the standard definition. The word is often accompanied by images of a businessman in command of a meeting, or someone at the head of the pack. When I think of a leader, however, I think of someone who inspires others. By writing, I hope to inspire others the way that authors such as Faulkner, Steinbeck, Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman have inspired me; especially in the way I see the natural world. I hope to write works that make people parse and consider the repercussions of their actions in regards to their environment and the people around them. I do not wish to point fingers when I write, however. I feel that indirect mentions, the consequences of the absence of nature, are a more profound and potent argument. When such an argument is the backdrop for a truly engaging story, people are more willing to stomach such statements. There must be certain candidness in such writing, however. We must be completely open with ourselves, for how otherwise can we be open to others?

“Without recognizing our own emotions, we will be poor at managing them, and less able to understand them in others.” [xi]

This trait is not only important for writing, but for leaders. To disregard emotions is to be a slave to ignorance. Knowing and recognizing certain emotions is key in being able to connect with other people. And with this connection, we can proceed to guide, inspire, teach, and learn—all aspects of being a sound leader.

Until very recently, I had misgivings about having English as a second major; I thought that Plan II was very intensive in that area, so I did not want to feel as if I were majoring twice in one vocation. However, even as I scrolled through the list of courses required for the English major, I found myself ecstatic and eager to partake in every single class offered. Banned books, reading poetry, Russian literature—all of these classes grabbed at my very heartstrings. Even with this heady platter of delectable courses, however, I was still hesitant about leaving behind every other education that did not relate to English. I still wanted to learn about chemistry, government, and several foreign languages. I refused to be intellectually barred from other types of intelligence. This is why I am grateful for the opportunity that Plan II offers to grasp everything related to and outside my major, for I believe that the myriad of courses required of me are all key in allowing me to appreciate the world on a finer level. What better for me to lead through my writing than to be able to be eloquent in every single subject, so that it affects everyone on a different interest level? I will be able to relate to my readers through the knowledge or interests that we share, and in this relation, I will be able to capture their hearts and minds. Some of the most important courses to take, I feel, are those that deal with other cultures (for example, my Film and History in Latin America class), and those that deal with philosophy and thinking for yourself. For writing is not only about reading and being able to put words together: it is being able to put words together to have meaning and purpose. Can you think for yourself? Can you make others understand? Can you connect?

I see the world with the soft pads of my fingertips and the soles of my feet. I see it with closed eyes and sweet smells. I believe it was Andrew who, in the class discussion, said that giving back to something that has given itself to you is one of the greatest things you can do. Nature has given me solace, beauty, and most importantly, the inspiration to write and think. What better to give back than the words it gave me? To devote myself to the written word for the rest of my life, and inspire others with those words—this is a true heaven. My leadership may not be physical or apparent, but knowing that I have the opportunity to arouse the thoughts and feelings of my readers in my passion—this, I believe, is a form of leadership at its finest.

[i] View of a Mahogany Tree from Below. http://www.greenpeace.org/raw/image_full/usa/photosvideos/photos/view-of-a-mahogany-tree-from-b. (accessed October 14, 2008).

[ii] Lopez, Barry. 1996. A Literature of Place. U.S. Society & Values 10 (1): 262

[iii] Lopez, Barry. 1996. A Literature of Place. U.S. Society & Values 10 (1): 265

[iv] Between William Gibson and William Faulkner. http://www.cultureby.com/trilogy/Faulkner_1.jpg (Accessed October 14, 2008).

[v] The Flag in the Wind. http://www.scotsindependent.org/features/quotations/John%20Steinbeck.jpg (Accessed October 14, 2008).

[vi] Pearson, Pauline. 1990. East of Eden. http://www.steinbeck.org/EastEden.html (accessed October 15, 2008)

[vii] Lopez, Barry. 1996. A Literature of Place. U.S. Society & Values 10 (1): 261

[viii] Lopez, Barry. 1996. A Literature of Place. U.S. Society & Values 10 (1): 263

[ix] Goleman, Daniel. 2002. Primal Leadership: Realizing the Power of Emotional Intelligence. Harvard (X62)

[x] Rowinski, M. Walden Pond at Sunset. http://people.bu.edu/dix/walden3.jpg (Accessed October 14, 2008).

[xi] Goleman, Daniel. 2002. Primal Leadership: Realizing the Power of Emotional Intelligence. Harvard (X64)

Plan II be the Best

2008-10-06T14:27:00.000-07:00

Oxford Comma by Vampire Weekend

This song is a criticism of the pretentious elite

(click the triangle to play)

Ice Cream: Disgusting or Delicious? I would have to find out.

“Would you like to try some ice cream?”

My mother’s face loomed over me, her fingers balancing a spoon that cradled what she dubbed “ice cream”. I wrinkled my nose at the stuff. It looked and sounded absolutely atrocious, and I knew nothing but misery resided in the inner depths of this apparent “food”. It was poison, I was sure.

Still, my mother’s hand came closer. The cold metal of the spoon attempted to part my lips, yet I resisted: I would not eat this toxic waste. My eyes were narrowed and my brow was corrugated in concentration and defiance, but a stern look from my mother opened my lips dejectedly.

A sharp gasp! It was cold, bitingly so. My tongue shrank in embarrassment, and I felt my cheeks contract against the chill. There was no choice: I swallowed the first dollop. To my dismay, the thing dubbed “ice cream” was not poison. There was, in fact, a sweet flavor that lingered on my tongue. It tasted milky and delightful, and I was ready for another go.

The six year old that experienced the first tangs of ignorance and enlightenment has grown older, but those two dueling notions still exist within me. In fact, they still exist within everyone. Society attempts to fight the first power, ignorance, by imposing upon us the pressures of a higher level of education. We spend our first eighteen years striving to be a standout, striving for perfection in order to obtain a spot at the coveted university, where we can study what it is that we truly love.

Who actually daydreamed about offices as children?

Or is it what we truly love? How many of us truly dreamed of being an accountant or a systems analyst? How many of us were pressured by our parents and others into choosing a career in law or business? And how many of us don’t really want any of those things, but instead wish to indulge in the vocation that gives us pleasure, but that others will disregard as insignificant because of a lower pay? Most importantly, what will we do if we love everything? Choose to sextuple major? The idea is laughable, especially when most universities are designed to prepare us for a career that requires a specific skill. Suddenly, a love of history no longer seems relevant when considering the path of a Wall Street tycoon.

Despite their frills, these women were most likely more worldly than many today.

In the Victorian days, women were considered truly accomplished if they were well educated in literature, mathematics, and the arts. People like Charlotte Bronte were reasonably holistic, for she was able to write elegantly, teach mathematics, paint, and play the piano.

Nowadays, such people are rare, for as we reach adulthood, we are taught to shirk the things that do not contribute to our future careers. We forget the things we enjoyed that contribute to society in minor or unobvious ways. The definition of liberal arts includes, “…worthy of a free man; opposed to servile or mechanical…Pertaining to or suitable to persons of superior social station; ‘becoming a gentleman’.” (X318B) This is someone who is learned in all aspects, cultured, and most of all, enlightened. This is a liberal human. A free human.

“If anyone lets himself be dominated by anything, then he is a slave to it.” (X319)

I agree with Andrew in the respects that Plan II offers freedom. In high school, I loved English and was sure that it would be my career. Then in sophomore year, I was introduced to Chemistry, and ended up dedicating three years of my life to it, convinced that I would become a chemist. But I then found myself daydreaming about playing in a Symphony and traveling the world with the orchestra. In senior year, I found that I was unnaturally excited for Government everyday, and that I wanted to learn more than just a semester’s worth. By the time I finished my college applications, I, myself, did not know what I wanted to do. How could I forsake one of my passions for another? This, coupled with my never-ending passion for the art, music, theatre, and film, made me truly question some of the universities I was applying to.

To me, Plan II stands for bullion against ignorance. One of my biggest worries in choosing just one or two majors was that I would be wholly cut off from anything else I wanted to learn. What Plan II has done is to allow me to dabble in everything and to experience learning without sacrificing any of my other loves.

“We have literature and the arts so that we can gain sympathetic access to systems of belief that are not our own. Imagination had better include entering into worlds that are not your own, as well as the entertaining of beliefs that you don’t yourself hold but that it will be good for you to feel the force of.” (X325)

St. Mary's Church in Austin, TX. Us Bumpers got to experience a typical Sunday mass...in Spanish!

I believe that this quote applies very well to the Spanish mass that we attended yesterday. I am not particularly religious; religion as a whole just makes me uncomfortable. Although I could not understand the words being spoken, nor follow with the ceremony, I sense that I experienced more by just watching and feeling, by seeing people being vulnerable and connected by their beliefs. It was a very good way to open myself to the world and be a little bit more understanding. After all, ignorance is the root of fear. Just as I finally tried the ice cream, and discovered that I loved it, I am slowly discovering the things that I previously shunned but am now becoming more informed on. My ignorance to the world around me is disappearing, thanks to the experiences with which Plan II is providing me.

The word “elitism” has been prevalent in all of the blogs above me, almost becoming synonymous with enlightenment and intelligence. I do agree that Plan II kids should not rely too heavily on that trait; we should be grateful for the reason why we believe we’re elite. However, if being “elite” means being a cultured and accepting human being, one who vies for knowledge and does not shun enlightenment, then I will be all to happy to be called “elite”. Because the word no longer means “haughty” or “pretentious” in that sense. It means the best.

---

Oxford Comma by Vampire Weekend:

Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma?
I've seen those English dramas too, they're cruel
So if there's any other way to spell the word
It's fine with me, with me

Why would you speak to me that way?
Especially when I always said that I
Haven't got the words for you
All your diction dripping with disdain
Through the pain
I always tell the truth

Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma?
I climbed to Dharamsala too, I did
I met the highest Lama, his accent sounded fine
To me, to me

Check your handbook, it's no trick
Take the chapstick, put it on your lips
Crack a smile, adjust my tie
Know your boyfriend, unlike other guys

Why would you lie about how much coal you have?
Why would you lie about something dumb like that?
Why would you lie about anything at all?
First the window, then it's to the wall
Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth

Check your passport, it's no trick
Take the chapstick, put it on your lips
Crack a smile, adjust my tie
Know your butler, unlike other guys

Why would you lie about how much coal you have?
Why would you lie about something dumb like that?
Why would you lie about anything at all?
First the window, then it's through the wall
Why would you tape my conversations?
Show your paintings at the United Nations
Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth

My Passionate Nature

2008-09-22T18:32:00.000-07:00

Rise by Eddie Vedder

(click the triangle to play)

My family is extremely superstitious. My grandparents believe that when laying down chopsticks, one should never allow them to cross, because it bodes bad luck. My mother refuses to let me set my purse on the ground, for it means that I will not have a financially secure future. My father even refused to let me have the Joker as the desktop background for the family computer, believing it to be an augury. Somehow, this superstitious nature extended to an aversion of medicine—especially western medicine—to the point where my parents rubbed my hands to cure pains and scoffed at the idea of Tylenol to relieve headaches.

Unfortunately, it was Tylenol I needed the most last semester when I was invited to go to New York for the first time in my life with one of my best friends. I imagined a posh and exciting city, filled with delicious pizza, musicals, and fantastic shopping. To my great ire, my trip was marred by a splitting headache the moment I stepped off the plane. As we slipped and stumbled through the rigid chill of winter, I remembered my grandfather’s advice to look at green colors when faced with a headache. Completely desperate and in pain, I craned my neck madly for any green in the New York landscape.

My search was thwarted. There was no such thing as “green” there. In the place of trees were buildings that seemed stifling to me. There was no grass, only concrete, and the occasional blow of a forsaken newspaper. As I was jostled by unyielding shoulders and shunted along by nudges in the small of my back, I felt panic. Where was the openness and freedom that I was so accustomed to? Where was the clarity and freshness that usually permeated my nostrils? For some reason, I felt like crying. All I wanted was to see some sky. Instead, I was treated to dense car exhaust and the sound of horns that replaced the gentle tickle of the wind. My morale was at an all time low, and I decided on the spot that I despised New York.

“A sense of place concerns that need to find a familiar landscape as refuge from the unknown, perhaps from the terrifying prospect of being set adrift in what would otherwise be a dimensionless, timeless, and chaotic world. For a family in Paleolithic times the center of the world might have been a certain cave, near a certain river, within a certain valley. Their place—the cave, the river, and the valley—was for them an important bulwark against chaos.” [i]

Returning home after a trip is always a relief, but my three-day sojourn in the north ended with tears of joy at the sight of the Austin-Bergstrom Airport. I never loved Austin more than that moment in which I returned from the horrific grey of New York. My eyes feasted on the lush fields against the most pure sky imaginable, and my heart was gladdened. It was akin to drinking some sort of elixir. As I thought more and more about this newly realized effect nature had on me, I remembered instances in my childhood in which I felt truly happy…all of them had someone involved me being surrounded by nature. I recalled how at home I felt inside the magnolia trees of Mississippi, and how they offered sanction in my youthful tantrums. I remembered rolling around in the afternoon grass and how invincible I seemed.

The magnolia tree of childhood where I learned about the things that surrounded me, and more importantly, about myself. [ii]

Then, I began to recall more recent times in which I had been truly affected by the environment. I thought of how amazing it felt to gaze upon the snowcapped mountains of Wyoming and the sweeping pastures of Montana. Even when I was alone in the forest, or lying in the grass, I never felt alone. Instead, I felt more complete than ever before. Somehow, I felt closer to myself.

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar;
I love not man the less, but Nature more.” [iii]

However, as we all know, our environment is in danger. Activists and scientists tell us that we must save our Earth for the animals and for our future. I agree with them, but I also believe that apart from protecting the environment for the polar bears, the air, and global warming, we should preserve it to keep some solace in this otherwise frantic world. Where is war in a babbling brook? What of poverty in the trunk of an oak tree? The flowers that surround the UT campus do not know of hate or fear. Consider the remedies that nature instills in the ailing and the hurt, and the peace it inspires in a heart full of torment. I believe that nature has the power to heal, because it reaches down to a place we cannot really identify, and it makes us feel at peace with the world.

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.” [iv]

Perhaps my thoughts are naïve: that the sight of a tree can really solve a problem, but what has inspired the greatest minds of past generations of poets, artists, philosophers, scientists, and world leaders before can surely inspire again. Not only is nature aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but it stores some innate sort of perfection and truth that is worth more than a new skyscraper or hunting lodge. There is a profundity in nature that not only imparts a sense of wonder, but helps unite the human mind and soul. For example, Christopher McCandless was a graduate of Emory University and the son of a relatively affluent family, who decided to forsake his priveleged life and hike across the country to Alaska. He ultimately met his death in the Alaskan terrain after traveling through Arizona, Colorado, California, and South Dakota, but I believe that what he discovered about himself and others on this journey was just as valuable as the education he received upon graduating from the university. The following excerpt from McCandless’s journal shows the motivation and perspective he gained from his experience:

“Two years he walks the earth.

No phone, no pool, no pets, no cigarettes. Ultimate freedom. An extremist. An aesthetic voyager whose home is the road. Escaped from Atlanta. Thou shalt not return, 'cause "the West is the best." And now after two rambling years comes the final and greatest adventure. The climactic battle to kill the false being within and victoriously conclude the spiritual pilgrimage. Ten days and nights of freight trains and hitchhiking bring him to the Great White North. No longer to be poisoned by civilization he flees, and walks alone upon the land to become lost in the wild.” [v]

A trailer for the movie Into the Wild, based on McCandless’s journey, which illustrates effectively the relationship between man and wild. [vi]

Nature has so much to offer, yet we have not been kind to it. We have used it incorrectly to make things convenient, sometimes when that convenience is superfluous. How can it be right for us exploit and deplete what has thus far catered so much to our needs? In many ways, our relationship with our environment is parasitic.

This picture of air pollution is only a small slice of the enormous pie of pollution rampant today. [vii]

I believe that there is still so much we can learn from the earth, and that we should take advantage of this opportunity for understanding, rather than destruction and exploitation. Consider Isaac Newton, who was inspired by the falling apple, or the Wright brothers, who studied birds while designing the first airplane. Velcro was invented when one man decided to investigate the reason for burrs sticking to his socks. Japanese engineers modeled the bullet train on the beak of a kingfisher.

“But today’s biomimetics goes one step further, using nature not only as a model but also, as Benyus puts it, as a “measure and mentor.” Faced with a problem — say, how to remove blood from hospital linens without using bleach — bionics specialists might look at how different insects who feed on blood (such as mosquitoes) manage to unhook the heme molecule, which makes blood red. Then they would try to reverse- engineer the chemistry of the insect’s method. DaimlerChrysler’s Mercedes division used a similar technique when looking for more-aerodynamic designs; ultimately, they created a concept car based on the body structure of a boxfish.” [viii]

We can work WITH our environment rather than against it, if we want to further ourselves as a race. All the materialistic pleasures in the world could not allow us to swim with the agility and preciseness of a shark, nor to duplicate the complicated systems of a beehive. What will we do when we can no longer enjoy the crisp smell of autumn air, or when thin layers of oil obscures the oceans? Have we forgotten that we depend on our oceans for more than just a dumping ground for waste or our trees for more than just houses? What about the joys of running our fingers through churning water? Could anything replace the way sunlight looks reflected in a child’s eyes? As we advance more and more in technology, ideas, and ways of life, we must not forget about our compassion and appreciation for the Earth, for she has born the slings and arrows of our deeds with tolerance and generosity.

The mountains of Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming. An example of the majesty of nature, and how precious it is. [ix]

No amount of convenience or fleeting pleasure could ever replace the strength of oak, the infinity of the sky, or the beautiful lines of a horse’s gallop. As humans, we are constantly in a state of perpetual motion, never ceasing to talk, move, and take up the next task that presents itself. In the presence of nature, however, we are forced to slow down, and for once, listen and observe. We are not expected to give our opinion, nor contest the ideas of others, but to simply respect. I truly believe that nature has a power to spiritually mend and inspire, to make people empathize and feel, and that we must do everything we can to protect it. It is not only our duty, in order to keep things on an even keel, but to preserve what has helped preserve us.

---
[i] Norman Crowe, Nature & The Idea of a Man-Made World M.I.T. Press, 1995. (X251-253)

[ii] Late Evening Light on Magnolia Tree. Digital image. Flickr Images. <"http://farm1.static.flickr.com/195/505949665_24635fb259.jpg?v=0">.

[iii] "Lord Byron Quotes." BrainyQuote. <"http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/l/lord_byron.html">.

[iv] Frank, Anne. The Diary of Anne Frank. DoubleDay & Company.

[v] Christopher McCandless, Digihitch Movies. <"http://movies.digihitch.com/intothewild/chris-mccandless/quotes">.

[vi] "Into the Wild Trailer." Youtube. <"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lauzt_x8ek">.

[vii] Air Pollution Systems. Digital image. The Kassandra Project. <"http://kassandraproject.wordpress.com/2007/12/03/corporations-profit-and-pollution/">.

[viii] Millar, Heather. "Inspired by Nature." American Way 1 Feb. 2008.

[ix] Grand Teton Mountains. Digital image. Photos of America's Parks. <"http://www.ohranger.com/park/photos?page=4">.

---

Rise by Eddie Vedder:

Such is the way of the world
You can never know
Just where to put all your faith
And how will it grow

Gonna rise up
Burning black holes in dark memories
Gonna rise up
Turning mistakes into gold

Such is the passage of time
Too fast to fold
Suddenly swallowed by signs
Low and behold

Gonna rise up
Find my direction magnetically
Gonna rise up
Throw down my ace in the hole

Of Moons, Birds & Monsters

2008-09-17T11:41:00.000-07:00

Creator by Santogold

(click the triangle to play)

In my first week of English IV in high school, we were punched thoroughly in the gut with an essay assignment. Our teacher gave us a sheet of paper describing the requirements, including a few quotes, citations, and the page length. There was a mutual groaning emanating from the class, save for me. I was nonchalant, confident, you might say. Essays had always been my forte—somehow I could manage to write a very structured and efficient three pages without really working too hard. This method usually resulted in high 90’s, which were sufficient enough for me at the time. This assignment was no different; I did not err in my ways. A few hours were spent on the paper without much thought, and I retired feeling a sort of smug satisfaction.

In those days, my eyes were not accustomed to anything remotely close to a “70” on a paper. What was this strange and exotic looking number? I examined it closely and with interest before the horror, oh the horror, set in. 70?! I was toeing the line of failing?! Obviously, the teacher was having my laugh. I thumbed through the pages and looked at her comments, and for once in my life, was faced with the harsh reality: it was not a good paper.

Looking back, this was most likely the best English class I’ve ever had. Prior to this class, we had always been taught that writing an essay is like baking a cake: five paragraphs, one introductory and concluding paragraph, three body paragraphs, with a sprinkle of quotes and above all else, a purpose. You start with a purpose, and, if executed correctly, you end with the purpose achieved.

Yet our teacher taught us that the essays we had written prior to this were all bogus. They were formulated and contrived, and they did not truly reflect anything that we believed in. They hardly expected us to think or to care. She taught us that writing an essay is like writing in search of something; an essay is like a journey, and perhaps we reach a conclusion, perhaps we don’t. But that is the purpose of an essay, to question, to doubt, and to imagine. Our essays didn’t necessarily have to reach a conclusion, but they had to show that we thought thoroughly and searched avidly. To put it simply, it was about the journey, not the destination.

I can compare this idea to many things, in particular the idea of a university. For some odd reason, we start out in life believing that our worth to the world depends wholly on the things we accomplish. We strive for years to reach the most prestigious university possible, all whilst the dreams that we h

ad as children, of being firefighters or movie stars or archeologists are told “no” by society’s (and perhaps our parents) dreams of producing doctors, lawyers, or businessmen.

I was faced with this dilemma as I started my journey at UT. I just didn’t know WHAT I wanted to do. Was I content with not knowing? … No. I am uneasy at the though. I even had a fit of madness in which I enrolled in economics, believing that business was the right path for me, before I slapped myself. There was no way I could spend the rest of my life doing business. And what’s more, I DESPISE economics. But this was the state into which I was wrought, because I believed that my future had to be cemented before I even realized what I wanted my future to be.

All I knew was that I wanted to know everything and anything possible. After all, this is most likely one of the las

t chances we have of just learning. When again will we be able to learn French, Chemistry, the state of politics in Africa, and music all in one environment? John Newman states,

“Knowledge is capable of being its own end. Such is the constitution of the human mind, that any kind of knowledge, if it be really such, is its own reward…What the worth of such an acquirement is, compared with other objects which we seek,--wealth or power or honour or the conveniences and comforts of life, I do not profess here to discuss; but I would maintain, and mean to show, that it is an object, in its own nature so really and undeniably good, as to be the compensation of a great deal of thought in the compassing, and a great deal of trouble in the attaining…” (X309)

A university is a place in which knowledge is abundant and welcome. It is a place in which the seeds of greatness are cultivated in minds, and thinking for oneself is encouraged. In a way, there exists in a university a freedom that we may seldom find elsewhere: a freedom to think and to understand.

It unifies us all under the banner of education, yet allows us to decide for ourselves.

“It is more correct, as well as more usual, to speak of a University as a place of education, than of instruction…” (X310)

What do these lawyers know of astronomy? Very little.

Can we call someone truly educated if they only specialize in one subject? What are their factoids on marine biology to a group of musical theory enthusiasts? I believe that a true education means that one is learned in

all aspects, for then not only do they KNOW, but also they UNDERSTAND. Their thoughts are unified and connected, and they can bring insights into diverse slew of things.

Newman states,
“It [education] shows him how to accommodate himself to others, how to throw himself into their state of mind, how to bring before them his own, how to influence them, how to come to an understanding with them, how to bear with them. He is at home in any society…” (X313)

Even though I still don’t know

where I’m going, I at least know that I’m going somewhere. I know that I will have my education in one hand and my thirst for more in the other. With these resources, I am content at least to know that there is something out there for me, and that I WILL find it. Just as my essay, the destination is not important at this point, but the things I learn along the way. Whatever I end up doing, I know that I will never regret dedicating a great part of my life to it, because I won’t have, thanks to this university, and especially Plan II. I will be just as learned in other subjects, and will call myself truly educated.

(Lyrics to Creator by Santogold):

Got no need for the fancy things
All the attention that it brings
Tell me no, I say yes, I was chosen
And I will deliver the explosion

Can't say it's gonna get me far
Do no good to say what you are
I run the streets and I break up houses
River runs deep and the flame devours it

Me, I'm a Creator
Thrill is to make it up
The rules I break got me a place
Up on the radar
Me, I'm a Taker
Know what the stakes are
Can't roll it back, it's understood
Got to play our cards

Sit tight I know what you are
mad bright but you aint no star
polish up til you make it gleam
your M.O, I know what you mean
Tail ridin' and I know it's true
while they screamin' I love you
Down deep you know there aint no flow
a soul decay, was D.O.A

I know what you here for now
Words out you're an idea whore though,
now don't you crush on me
I'll see you in your pipe dreams
whether or not you know it's true
You're who they dictate to
That shit must hurt real bad
fakin' what you wish you had

Here all the folks come ask about me
Band wagon, know they used to doubt me
Blind side tend to hit real hard
you should heed the warning, get a body guard

Steady friction in this bitch
Creepin' in just like an itch
so far I got the last laugh
still the rich rise up, still I live fast
wouldn't know it face to face
Got no soul and got no taste
Moving in speed up the pace
I got it locked though, what a waste

All the talk is standard fare
Walk the walk if it gets you there
on the grind til the gig is up
Im 'a smash 'em down
put a muzzle on them like "what!"

Truly Connecting:

2008-09-02T22:34:00.000-07:00

Come Together - The Beatles

My friend Ian and I are currently in the middle of a heated prank war.

It’s all in good fun, really. I fired the first shots by telling him to meet me at the Perry-Castaneda Library on Labor Day. Fool that he is, he did not realize that the library was closed, it being a holiday (and yet he had the sense to enjoy hours of blessed sleep). He walked through the sweltering Texas heat for thirty minutes, only to discover that it was closed. I can only imagine the despair that crossed his sweat-ridden face once his attempts to push at the door were met with resistance.

As retribution, he put an ad on Craigslist.com with MY phone number that enthused: FREE GUITARS! FREE BOOKSHELVES! FREE MATRESSES! CALL ME NOW!

Of course, minutes after this posting, my phone exploded with calls. ”These poor, deceived people,” I thought as I listened to their voicemails. Over the course of a day, I received over twenty calls and a full voicemail box, all because of this one stint on the Internet, this miniscule contact I had apparently made

with the online world.

I had no idea that such a trivial thing would affect so many others. Even though the Internet connects us, I never really felt that it truly connected us. How could it, when this connection was interlaced with anonymity and space? In the early 00’s, my view of the Internet was that is was rigid and cold, devoid of human emotion and compassion. The only thing I needed from it was Google.com, and in return, I received absolute knowledge.

This was all before I came upon a website called Postsecret.com. The premise, as stated on the site, is this:

“PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard.”

I almost didn’t know how to handle myself in the face of such personal issues as I scrolled down the page. These secrets ranged from disturbingly dark, extremely weird, to unbelievably hilarious. And yet, in the midst of all of these, I felt that I could connect to each person who had taken the time and the courage to write a piece of their soul onto a 4x6 postcard. I wanted to reach out and touch the person just as they had touched me.

“The death of a loved one, a severe illness, a financial setback, or extreme adversity can cause us to stand back, look at our lives, and ask ourselves some hard questions: “What’s really important? Why am I doing what I’m doing?” Covey, pg. 131

Reading these secrets made me reflect upon my own life. I began to write my own secrets down, and tore them up when I was finished. Seeing them in print, so vivid and real, now almost as things outside of my entity, I resolved to let go burden of having them. And at the end of the day, after I had mended fences and reconciled feelings, I could not believe that a mere website had made me a better person.

This is the first time I had an encounter with a website that wasn’t solely based on information. This website was based on emotion and the human condition. Now, with millions of visitors everyday, it has truly changed the way I look at the web. The fact that it is still so popular in this ever-changing world can be best explained with this quote from the article “Revenge of the Right Brain”:

“To flourish in this age, we’ll need to supplement our well-developed high tech abilities with aptitudes that are “high concept” and “high touch.” High concept involves the ability to create artistic and emotional beauty, to detect patterns and opportunities, to craft a satisfying narrative and to come up with inventions the world didn’t know it was missing. High touch involves the capacity to empathize, to understand the subtleties of human interaction, to find joy in one’s self and to elicit it in others, and to stretch beyond the quotidian in pursuit of purpose and meaning.” Revenge of the Right Brain (Course Anthology) pg. 331

Postsecret is both unique in concept and universal in content. Imagine people all over the world, separated by language barriers and distance, bonding and connecting, truly connecting with a simple image on a page. Isn’t this what the Internet is all about? Being able to empathize and understand is one of the greatest levels of humanity, and a mere website has managed to evoke the deepest and most complicated of feelings.

More and more websites like Postsecret are popping up today. Perhaps people are beginning to realize the advantages of having such easy access to others (and I do not mean advertising). I am talking about using this expansive machine to make it truly ours, to try to pour into it some of the qualities that make us human.

In "The Machine is Us/ing Us", the creator of the video states,

"The web is no longer just linking information"

"Web 2.0 is linking people...people sharing, trading, and collaborating"

This is truly our generation. We have access to virtually the entire world, and all it takes is a leisurely stroke of the finger, or a tap of the thumb. In a day when anyone can edit (Wikipedia) or publish (Blogger) and instantly gain access to a wide range of audiences, we must be careful with how we use this newfound power. We must take full advantage of this strange connection we can make with people over the web, and use it to better ourselves. How we manipulate text, how we format the page, and how we choose pictures--all of these HOWS eventually coalesce into the biggest HOW of all: How we connect. The Internet was once a YOU age, and recently a ME age with the advent of YouTube. Now, as it progresses and changes, maybe it can be an US age, the true connection that we all long for.

Song Association

2008-09-02T19:27:00.000-07:00

LOVE/LOSS:

Country Mile by Camera Obscura:

Country Mile - Camera Obscura

Silver birch against a Swedish sky
The singer in the band made me want to cry
We're all inside our own heads now
We are leaving new friends
Leaving this town
I wish you could be here with me
I would show you off like a trophy
The road it winds, it twists, it turns, now my stomach burns

Once again, I'll be the foolish one
Thinking a blink of these lashes would make you come
Don't you worry, don't get in a state
I don't believe in true love anyway
Who's being pessimistic now
I could document this as our first and our last row
The more you look forlorn, the more to you I warm

I won't be seeing you for a long while
I hope it's not as long as these country miles
I feel lost

TIME:

Time to Pretend by MGMT

Time To Pretend - MGMT

I'm feelin' rough, I'm feelin' raw, I'm in the prime of my life
Let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives
I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin and f*** with the stars
You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars

This is our decision to live fast and die young
We've got the vision, now let's have some fun
Yeah it's overwhelming, but what else can we do?
Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?

Forget about our mothers and our friends
We're fated to pretend.
To pretend
We're fated to pretend.
To pretend

I'll miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms
I'll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world.
I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home.
Yeah I'll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone.

But there is really nothing, nothing we can do
Love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew.
The models will have children, we'll get a divorce,
We'll find some more models, everything must run its course.

We'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end
We were fated to pretend

NOSTALGIA:

Postcards from Italy by Beirut:

Postcards from Italy - Beirut

The times we had
Oh, when the wind would blow with rain and snow
Were not all bad
We put our feet just where they had, had to go
Never to go

The shattered soul
Following close but nearly twice as slow
In my good times
There were always golden rocks to throw
at those who, those who admit defeat too late
Those were our times, those were our times

And I will love to see that day
That day is mine
When she will marry me outside with the willow trees
And play the songs we made
They made me so
And I would love to see that day
Her day was mine

First Post

2008-09-01T13:44:00.000-07:00

testing......