Dialectics: Courage and Progression

Progression is inevitable in our world; we are constantly pushing towards change and this trend will really never stop. There are many ways to define progress: in arts, sciences, human relations, economics, education, athletics, and just about anything else. Because we are studying Jane Eyre in English and things like World War II and Gandhi in History, I found it an appropriate time to speak on human progression.

The other side of this dialectic is courage. If we look back at history, we see that certain people had an immeasurable amount of it. These people, like Martin Luther King Jr. or Abraham Lincoln, were extremely brave and typically faced huge odds against them. They were able to persevere with some kind of burning passion for what they were doing.

The dialectic is interesting because all progression is courageous, but not all truly courageous people push for progression. Any time something progresses or changes, there must be a sort of courage involved. This stands true even for something small, like a family progressing by getting new jobs or a new house-- if courage isn't there, the move won't be made.

On the other hand, some people who are courageous unfortunately do not wish to progress. Some of history's biggest figures, like Adolf Hitler or Napoleon, had courage but did not use it to push for beneficial change. Instead, they turned around and searched for regression. In Hitler's case, he was brave enough to stand in front of a hurting nation and promise that he would make it all better. Then he acted terribly, with a disgusting measure of racial discrimination and a complete lack of humanity.

Courage is essentially a catalyst for our world's occurrences. It can lend itself to progression or regression, but in the hands of the right people it will certainly do good for our world. Progression itself is the key to how our world works; as soon as we stop changing everything will fall apart. This is why brave people like Charlotte Brontë have stories that still resonate now: they were able to change the world in great ways, and their influence was profound.

We can learn from this dialectic in many ways. It's important to know that true courage isn't unreachable, as long as you believe wholeheartedly in something. Martin Luther and Gandhi had a passion for their beliefs, to the point where it became a life's quest to achieve what they wanted. If we can find this passion, and a true sense of courage, then progression is bound to happen and we can change the world.

Blogging Around: February and March

Darrell had an interesting post on Obama and postmodernism, where he made a convincing argument that our president is influenced by postmodern thought. I commented:

Darrell, this is a cool post. I've never really thought of Obama as a postmodernist, but your realizations are pretty convincing. Also, the idea of physical postmodernism is interesting-- the background of a person may have a profound influence on who they are.

It's a good idea to analyze our world leaders like this because we need to know where they're coming from. If we don't know anything about their background or philosophy, then we're just following them blindly. If I had to guess, I would say that many of the world's leaders are influenced by postmodernism.

Lauren blogged about Food, Inc. and how it analyzes the way we run our food system. She also made comparisons to Ishmael. I commented:

Although I haven't seen this movie, I've heard a lot about it and it actually sounds interesting. I think it's cool that you related it back to Ishmael, and I see the parallels. The idea of us ruling over all other life and being able to manipulate it for our own good is a little disturbing.

As you said, the way we produce food does have some benefits. In the end, people get more food and it costs less to make. But I think at some point we have to set a limit as to how far we're taking all this.

Best of Week: Cathedral and Intimacy

This year in English we have, obviously, read many stories of all sorts. We've read Shakespeare, modern depictions of Afghanistan, and all in all a huge variety of literature. I find it awesome that, after all these things, we're finally touching on short stories. I find that short stories can be the most meaningful to read and possibly the most fun to write. They can have all of the meaning without an intimidating amount of length-- writing or reading long books can be, well, difficult.

So, our entry into the short story unit should naturally have begun with reading a short story. This week we read Raymond Carver's Cathedral and I found our discussions on it to be very interesting. The major topic that we brushed on was intimacy of all sorts present in the story. There's a whole lot of it going on, so it was somewhat of a difficult task to break it all down.

The class, I think, agreed that the most passionate form of intimacy lies between Robert, the blind man, and the narrator's wife. Between the narrator and his wife is a pretty big lack of intimacy: physical, emotional, religious, or Romantic, it's all lacking somewhat. A class example came on page 218, where the narrator's wife only mentions Robert's name and never the narrator's, though he anxiously awaits its mention. We all agreed that Carver had intentions for this, to demonstrate the void of intimacy between them. Lastly, I find it interesting that all the intimacy in the story is centered around the narrator's wife. Her ex-husband, Robert, and her current husband, all shared some form of intimacy with her.

Intimacy is present in pretty much every story every made; I can't name a single one without it. It is the thread that binds characters and people together, and without it there's really nothing for an author to work with. It's very important, especially in a short story, to establish ties between the characters whether they be physical, emotional, or social. As we write our own short stories, I think it's very important to take this all into consideration.

Without any intimacy, the entire world would just be meaningless and void of emotion. Carver's story does a great job establishing it, even with a somewhat drone and simple narrator. This goes to show that intimacy exists aside of the speaker, that like postmodern memory, it exists around us and we are part of it. Intimacy is not a choice, but rather is omnipresent and we must acknowledge this in our writing.

iMedia: Tommy Igoe on Drums

The following is a video from New York City's Birdland Jazz Club:

You might be thinking, great, a drum solo. What could possibly be artistic or meaningful about slamming wooden sticks into plastic heads and making loud noises?

The simple answer is that, if you find any other instrument artistic, then you can say the same about drums. A drum head is simply a string stretched out, in a way. So, melodies, harmonies, rhythm, soloing- they can all be done on drums.

I picked this specific solo mostly because of the man behind the kit. He Tommy Igoe, son of famous drummer Sonny Igoe, plays weekly at the Birdland club and also plays sessions for countless jazz musicians around the NYC area. Most importantly, though, he is perhaps the best professional teacher. It seems many professionals can't teach at all, but he can do it all.

So, before going off completely on a drum-related rant, it's important to actually relate this to something. A drum solo, in a way, is like language. It must still contain rhythm and a sort of structure, but creativity is allowed within that structure. Look at the end of the solo, when Igoe finishes and the entire band comes in perfectly. The root of the song is never lost, and that's a cool thing. Not only is he drumming fluidly and quickly, but the whole time he is counting and making sure to be ready.

This perfect drumming combination is just like a great author- on a simple layer is their basic structure, the form of paragraphing of their work. More complex is the fluid manner with which they use language. Music is just like writing, and really like any art form. People too often divide up art forms into different forms, but it's pretty obvious that all art is art. Sure, there is a technical difference between typing words and playing drums, but it's all in the ultimate search for artistic beauty.

Drums are the perfect example of an instrument in terms of structure, often being called the backbone of music or the driving force behind all of it. I'm not arguing that they're most important (but certainly the most fun to play), but they relate to language in many different ways.

What I'm ultimately getting at is that art is basically a simple structure, stacked on with creativity and improvisation of sorts. Professionals- writers, musicians, painters, photographers, etc.- always pay attention to that structure but never accept sticking to it completely. This is why we read classic works: to learn history and get a feel for the structure. Now, in our own writing, it is our job to push the boundaries of writing and think of new thoughts.

So, for our next unit, we should take a field trip to New York and see some music.

Connection: Heart of Darkness and The Hurt Locker

Heart of Darkness and The Hurt Locker. It's interesting to think that two different kinds of works of art (book and film), created over 110 years apart, can be connected. I'd say that's the true mark of a great classic book: if it can stand for 100s of years and still be relevant, the writing must be forward-thinking and well ahead of its time.

This was clearly the case with Conrad's novella, and as I watched Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker this past weekend, the connections were relatively easy to make. Just for anyone who hasn't seen the film, it's about an American IED (bomb) squad in Iraq and especially the man who suits up and defuses bombs. Without spoiling the end, it's important to note that he has a sort of addiction to his work with IEDs and battle.

The first, and most obvious connection between the two works is that the main character is seen as imperfect. There's no glorifying here, either in Marlow's horrible situation or in the bomb squad's missions. The Hurt Locker is really one of the only war movies I've ever seen that's not glorified with some overarching message. It's a very raw, personal film and that's the kind of story that Joseph Conrad gives us as well.

On a much deeper level than the plot is the inclusion of postmodern philosophy in both works. We've drawn many postmodern parallels to Heart of Darkness, such as the fragmented view of Kurtz throughout the story. In The Hurt Locker, though, we get a similar, very disconnected perspective on the whole story. Time in the film is almost random, events are spliced together in such a way that we don't understand the whole picture. We never hear orders from a higher official in the military or anyone giving orders to these men. In the same way that Conrad's story is one with a backdrop in the Congo, the Iraq war serves as a foundation for Bigelow's real plot.

Another huge postmodern element in each of these two works is the idea that "everything is a commodity." The implications of this statement are pretty obvious in Heart of Darkness, where all African resources are to Europeans "just another commodity," and human life itself can be pushed out of the way to achieve economic goals. The Hurt Locker, and war itself, work in a similar way: human life is just another tool to reach a goal, to be victorious or to gain something. On the postmodern scale, everything belongs to somebody and that's just what war is about; when everything is owned by somebody, we're simply talking about properties being exchanged between owners. Nothing else matters.

These two awesome works of art will likely remain classics for decades to come, and it's interesting to me that they inform each other even when they were so spread out in time, and about such different topics. It's almost like the connection itself brings about postmodernism- time is nothing but a fragmented staggering of different ideas. It seems that both works picked up on similar ideas, and this is important because we understand a little bit more about the Iraq War now- through Heart of Darkness' morals and through The Hurt Locker's sense of closeness to individual soldiers. War is a very postmodern affair in some ways, and given that we as a country spend time, money, and most importantly human lives on war, it is essential that we explore every aspect of it.

Metacognition: The First Semester

The first semester, where to begin?

Well, the first thing I'd like to put out is that classes have been (relatively) fun thus far. Also, I find that through each year of school, the first semester is usually the harder one to get through. So, if you don't give us any work throughout the second semester (and make something out of the "Academy SRT" on our schedules), you could really reinforce that claim.

On a more serious note, I really did learn a lot this semester. To be honest, before The Blue Sweater, I didn't even know what a social entrepreneur was. Now, I really like the idea of a synthesis of travel, business, and helping people, because I really do want to try and make a difference. I'd rather make some kind of mark than just waste oxygen for the next 60 or 70 years. Ouch, that was harsh.

The other stories we read were okay, to be honest. The Kite Runner was a good book, but not the best story I've ever read. I guess my thinking here was that the plot was a little too obvious, almost being sold to a read-for-entertainment audience.

King Lear told me once again that, for whatever reason, I'm just not a fan of Shakespeare. I respect his profound abilities to write and tell stories, I just haven't bought in on his all-around genius yet. Sure, he can write with more creativity than I, but if his writing isn't connecting with me, then does it mean anything? The project we did to cap off King Lear wasn't my favorite, either. I like the idea of creatively portraying stories, but I think we treated it a little too much like drama class. I might be the only one thinking this, but some of us aren't exactly born to act out plays and I'm not sure it's a great idea to assess that ability in English class.

Sophie's World was a little bit of a tough read for me. I didn't know a whole lot about all of the past philosophers, and while I was familiar with the big names, the sheer amount of text and the way it was written didn't appeal to me. The ending got way too crazy and it lost any meaning to me. I guess I was expecting a little more from it, thinking that Gaarder's genius was going to go farther than the psychedelic things that went on. My change in thinking from Sophie's World, though, was probably worth the murky read. I think I have more of a philosophical basis now, and a much better source of reason to base my thoughts on. If Gaarder didn't at delivering a story that I liked, he certainly did a good job telling me about philosophy.

After touching a little on the major things we did, I realized that there were a few major points where my thinking changed. The first was in The Blue Sweater- I realized that helping people is something I really want to do. The next came with King Lear- thinking about things creatively is really a good way to learn them. Finally, Sophie's World gave me a philosophical basis where I had no foundation before- something important to use in the future.

I find that I learn really well with the parallels to music. The day we listened to different styles of music in class from the Baroque and Renaissance periods was one of the best so far, I think. Music is something that I am very in touch with, so references to it help a lot. The one thing I am having trouble with is some of the in-depth 'commentary' on how to write. I feel that some of the rhythm analysis is just a little far-fetched. Beat by Beat was well-done, and taught me a lot about writing skills, but I feel that maybe I automatically do some of that.

I realize that I still don't talk much in class, but I also don't feel that I will change that in a major way soon. The only way I can attempt to articulate the reason is by saying that I guess I'm trying to conserve only the better ideas for putting out. I wouldn't say I'm lacking the ideas as much as I'm more critical of them than some people. Some of my classmates put pretty much anything out on the table (and that's okay), but I prefer to reserve most of my ideas for myself unless they can help someone else. Why should I force myself to say a certain number of things to say? It's kind of like apologizing to someone without being sincere- what's the point? I understand that it's something to work on, and I'm not denying the value of expressing your opinions. It's just not that simple, I think.

This may have sounded more like an angry rant at some points than Metacognition, but I'm really not angry at all with the first Semester. I don't like the way any of this works, to be honest- being at school from 7:00 AM til 5:30 PM and then going home to homework, drum practice and other obligations is never fun. But, to put complaining aside, I like the way this is all headed. I guess in the end I'm the one that signed myself up for all of this, and if it's all the interest of preparing myself for the future, then I'm all in. But sometimes I feel that we should slow down a little more and try to enjoy what's going on right now. Hang on a second, seriously- 78 days, 19 hours until spring break.

Blogging Around Yet Again..

A rap on Jason's Music Post-

Jason's post was on music, specifically the piece Canon by Pachelbel and a version that happens to have 70 million views on YouTube, one that I have seen many times also. He mentioned that all types of music are worthy forms of expression, and I agreed in my comment. Also, he stated that every piece of music is a synthesis of the old and new, just like really any art form. I think to take this further, we can figure that in order to be great, music has to both realize history and try to push beyond it. If you want to be a great musician, it's just important to know what came before you as it is to form your own creativity. Think of the history as a basis for greatness, and internal creativity a means to achieve it.

A walkthrough of Nirali's "Jaywalking" post-

I've seen this segment of Leno's show a bunch of times, and find it pretty funny, but I completely forgot about the fact that the people shown don't know basic facts that we should really all know. I stated this within my comment, as well as the fact that it's hard to do too much about it. While everybody should have this knowledge, we can't force people to go back and learn it. The point is that our entertainment can show problems in our society. Another good example is all of the violent video games and movies out now. We have a craving for violence, and that's demonstrated in what we pay to see or play. So, we can analyze our culture through the means of entertainment that we have. Clearly there are shortcomings in the way people are taught facts, and they should be taken seriously.