tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257066032024-03-13T22:07:33.116-05:00Lonesome LudditeDon't ski the gravel.Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.comBlogger198125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-27771791406870167132017-08-26T16:51:00.000-05:002017-08-26T16:51:03.419-05:00On Hugs<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m on record as saying that I don’t like hugs, but things are never so simple as that. These things are confusing. So confusing that two friends of mine once got into an argument over whether or not I liked to be hugged. The argument was so bitter that they didn’t talk for weeks afterward. (It’s just barely possible there were other, unspoken, reasons for the argument.) </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course it’s almost always misleading to say that one does or doesn’t like something simpliciter--at least I think so. A friend once asked me what my favorite food was. I couldn’t think of one, so she clarified that a favorite food was a food you could eat all the time and never get tired of it. That seemed like too high a standard, there’s just nothing that I always want to eat (If I remember right, her favorite food was lasagna). It’s the same with hugs. Sometimes they’re good; sometimes they’re bad. But usually they’re bad. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The problem with hugs is this: too often they are forced. More often than not, when I’m asked for a hug it’s not a request or a kind gesture--it’s a demand. Love me now, it says. It puts me on edge. It makes me not want to comply. Maybe I’m just not capable of love on demand. Another friend used to occasionally surprise me with, “I need you to tell me something nice about me right now.” I couldn’t. It stripped me of agency and made me feel used. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No one asks if I’d like to give them a hug. Instead they put out their arms and demand it. Like a zombie coming towards me, arms outstretched. Or worse, your least favorite aunt with lips puckered for a kiss. (Not that I have a least favorite aunt. They’re all my favorite because each of them is better than all of the others.) I could refuse, but then I’d be the jerk for not being loving. Then again, if I don’t refuse I’m the jerk again for giving an insincere hug. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But I do like hugs when they’re both wanted and freely given. When they really are a sign of care and attention. It’s just rare to find them. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some of the things I’ve been reading lately say that one has a right to be loved--even a right to demand love and attention from individual others. But it’s hard for me to break out of a certain mindset. In that mindset, while one might deserve something, even have a right to it, no one has an obligation to provide it. The stock example is marriage: everyone has a right to marry, but no one has an obligation to marry some individual person (or any person). Now, I’m no libertarian, so I don’t see that we have no (unearned) obligations toward other people, but the marriage example seems good. We may have some obligations to provide for the poor, etc. I may have some obligation to pay taxes. But it’s not clear that the same can be said for something like a hug. Labor, such as that which provides money, can be given (or taken) without destroying its value. If one is forced to work, it doesn’t obviously destroy the work. If one is forced to love though, forced to hug, it does seem to destroy the value. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perhaps I’m overthinking this. I’ve been told that I’m very smart--very logical--but that I don’t understand people. I’ve also been told that I’m deeply immature when it comes to interpersonal relations and it’s a miracle I manage to function in society. </span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is, as always, a simple solution that avoids the problem. Just always want to be hugged. Always accede happily to that demand. That’s the simple solution, just like all my aunts being my favorite. </span></div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-20091830205395297082017-01-21T03:37:00.000-06:002017-01-21T03:52:51.409-06:00The Good, the Bad, and the Perfect<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A week or so ago I posted this status on Facebook:</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-904e7f09-c05e-57ff-2cae-fc234d12379e" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The perfect is the enemy of the good. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the context of Facebook most folks assumed that the target was myself, my writing, and my insecurities. They were partly right. The target was myself and my insecurities, but not my writing. The post was meant to relate to politics and criticism. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t talk much about politics, not because I don’t care, but because I care too much--or too much about the wrong things. I care too much about being right and not enough about doing right. In cases of conflicting opinion I take the safe route and stay mute. If I don’t think I can convince someone else of my position I don’t articulate it. Why, after all, would I speak when I believe that my words aren’t worth my breath? </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The biggest danger for me is criticism. An example: I want to celebrate the 100th anniversary of women’s suffrage in the US in 2020. But there’s a problem. Women’s suffrage was made possible through the actions of <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/20/opinion/how-the-womens-march-could-resurrect-the-democratic-party.html?action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=span-abc-region&region=span-abc-region&WT.nav=span-abc-region&_r=0">some people who were racists and used explicitly racist arguments</a> to make their case. Should these people--their achievement--really be celebrated? </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or another: Argument in politics is irrelevant. There is some reason to think that, when it comes to politics, no one is listening. Positions are simply a reflection of basic values, <a href="http://www.salon.com/2017/01/15/dont-think-of-a-rampaging-elephant-linguist-george-lakoff-explains-how-the-democrats-helped-elect-trump/">impervious to argument</a>. Worse, arguing might be counterproductive, missing its target and causing folks to dig in their heels.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I can see the easy path laid out before me: Say nothing; do nothing. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But how seriously should I take such statements? What should I do in the face of them? There’s simply no way to deal with any complicated issue--and all issues are complicated in politics--without running into truly legitimate criticism. So here I return to the slogan I started with:</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The perfect is the enemy of the good. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perhaps there is a single right answer and someday, far in the future, I’ll achieve it. But for now, something has to be done. With that in mind I’m headed to the <a href="http://dailyhive.com/vancouver/womens-march-vancouver-this-weekend">Women’s March here in Vancouver</a>. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don't know about its efficacy or legitimacy, it’s surely not perfect, but it’s an effort to do some good. </span></div>
<br />Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-11900580370709474532016-11-10T02:58:00.000-06:002016-11-10T02:58:33.378-06:00Americans: don’t move to Canada. <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I live in Canada. It’s a nice place with friendly people and a pretty decent government. But you know what? I’m coming back home. I’m coming back to America in May. I didn’t come to Canada because I hated the US or thought it was hopeless. I came here because I wanted to see what someplace else looked like. I wanted to learn. And I did. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Vancouver, where I live, is one of the most diverse places in the world. It’s true. Around half of the population here is are recent immigrants. I’ve met people from parts of the world I otherwise never would have. I’ve made friends with a few and I’ve learned a few things too. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here’s one thing I’ve learned: Things can improve, but they can also get worse. The arc of history does not unerringly bend towards justice. We--or perhaps more accurately I--believed that because we lived in a prosperous nation with good folks things would always get better. But that’s no guarantee. Some people I have met have lived through revolutions and wars. Some have lived in countries that were once prosperous and are now destitute or, in some cases, gone. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve asked some of these folks, “What can I, as an American, do?” So many things look hopeless. Nothing we do seems to make a difference for the better. There’s no simple solution--maybe there isn’t a solution. It’s not unanimous, but here’s what I’ve heard: Make the US an example to the world. Show the world how things can be. That there is a place that values everyone. Show us that there is hope. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tuesday night we did not do this. We sent the opposite message. That not everyone is valued. That the US is willing to hand over the reigns to someone who has promised to be and anti-democratic and not work for the interests of us all. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So here’s the deal. The US needs you. I believe that it needs me. I believe this more strongly than I’ve believed anything in a long while. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t believe that rational argument sways people, at least not about the things that matter. That probably sounds weird coming from a philosophy student, but there it is. I don’t mean that it has no place, but when one’s mind is set--as so many of ours are--no amount of argument or list of facts will matter. I happen to think that it may, in fact, be irrational to be swayed by argument in these cases, but that’s a story for another time. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So what does change minds? How can we make things better?</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here’s what I know: The one mind I have changed--and maybe I shouldn’t take credit for it--was changed through understanding. We had an interest in each other as humans, as friends. Neither of us wanted to change the other’s mind--really--we just wanted to understand each other. Not by pushing or prodding. Not by antagonism. Just by being interested. There is a paradox here. In order to really change someone you must not desire to change them. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-36be8fe4-4d72-9d4b-43a6-33c91ff2c202"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So actually, now that I think on it, do move to Canada, if you can. Move to Japan. Move to Australia or Spain. Maybe try out California or Texas too, for that matter. Live there. Listen. Try to understand. And then move home. America needs you. </span></span>Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-34764577548984724272016-07-24T17:23:00.004-05:002016-07-24T17:25:12.095-05:00One Down<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
About two months ago
now I stopped using Facebook. Maybe you noticed. Maybe you didn't.
I had a lot of reasons—lack of productivity, a hatred of
everything and everyone, depression about the state of the world, a
fear of telling you what I really think. Others have listed other
reasons in other places—an inability to<a href="http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20140206-is-facebook-bad-for-you"> keep up with the Jonses</a>,
<a href="https://ceasefiremagazine.co.uk/modern-times-18-skinner-facebook/">addiction</a>,
<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/science/2015/jan/18/modern-world-bad-for-brain-daniel-j-levitin-organized-mind-information-overload">decreased attention span</a>.
I don't know if those things have affected me. Maybe. Probably.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two months in I have
no plans of going back. I don't miss it. I am less connected. I am
less in touch. Perhaps I've even got my head stuck in the sand.
Probably so. Especially now. But as someone once said, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UitihITPwbw">I don't care anymore</a>. <br />
<br />
PS. I still get personal messages. You can contact me.</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-28729605369509897202016-05-24T23:38:00.000-05:002016-05-25T00:08:01.463-05:00Iron Knee 25k: a race report<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Years ago, on the
way home from the Arrowhead, I stopped by a ski shop in Minneapolis
to try on ski boots. I knew I needed a new pair, a pair that fit,
and since the shop had a good selection, I took advantage of it.
Since I had no intention of buying—I knew I could get them at cost
elsewhere, but was just using the shop<span style="line-height: 100%;">—</span><span style="line-height: 100%;">I bought a ski
mountaineering magazine as a sort of “thank you.” Now I've never
done ski mountaineering, I can't truly claim to have done downhill
skiing or mountaineering, but the magazine had some amazing photos.
The writing on the other hand—every trip report was exactly the
same:</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a long trip
in the (car, boat, helicopter) to (exotic location). We were really
excited to be in (exotic location). We got one last good night's rest
then (skinned, snowshoed, dogsledded) as far as we could before
setting up camp. We were nervous about (avalanches, crevasses,
overhanging seracs, rock face), but tried to sleep anyway. We got up
before dawn and skinned up as far as we could go. Then we had to
face the (avalanches, crevasses, overhanging seracs, rock face), but
we made it. It was beautiful from the top. We could see all the way
to (other exotic location). Then we shredded the pow on the way
down. The end.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was bored. The
genre was dull.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now I admit that not
every trip goes according to plan. If something went wrong then
you've got an interesting story, but that's not good writing, that's
a lucky break for your narrative (unlucky for the folks involved).
I've written my share of “something went wrong” stories. They're
fun to write. They get a lot of hits. They can be the most useful
to read too. But, all happy trip reports are alike; each unhappy
trip report is unhappy in its own way.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What can I say about
the Iron Knee 25k? The race was beautifully managed by the Mountain
Madness folks. There weren't too many people. The aid stations were
well stocked. There was even a long climb called “The Powerline”
that, yes, ran along a powerline right-of-way. There were rocks and
roots. There were smooth, fast sections. There were views of mountains and water. I had a good run, but I
was out of shape. I was more sore afterwards than I wanted to be.
It was too short. It was a happy race.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But maybe that's not
all there is.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This was my first
glimpse into a community of runners here in Vancouver. It was my
first time seeing people who I felt like I knew. Who I connected
with. I struck up conversations with folks at the start line. They
seemed to understood how hard it is to get out and do something in
this fenced in city. They understood that it isn't the outdoor
paradise that is promised. That long trip to the start wasn't by
boat or car or dogsled, it was two hours by foot and train and bus and it
started at 5:30 in the morning. That long powerline climb featured
signs with each runners name and a message for each of us. Mine
read, “If it got any easier, it wouldn't be a challenge.” Did I
get any names; did I make any friends? No. But for a little while I
felt like I was home. </div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEDcCEfTaxV5C5J-DfLgvU35O6I6sFtyODrnLBrNe8T9YlRWxQhU-egxedqO2-Flh5khj97ieUdBpG3PKJgozJ9KSODk50Q79bohH1fWs5TwuII0ivqBn7B4NVTCmTytGeVwpAg/s1600/powrline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEDcCEfTaxV5C5J-DfLgvU35O6I6sFtyODrnLBrNe8T9YlRWxQhU-egxedqO2-Flh5khj97ieUdBpG3PKJgozJ9KSODk50Q79bohH1fWs5TwuII0ivqBn7B4NVTCmTytGeVwpAg/s320/powrline.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-8682506003548865592016-03-13T18:05:00.002-05:002016-03-13T18:30:04.819-05:00Shoe ShoppingYesterday, I needed a new pair of shoes. 'New' is the wrong word here, of course. I can't really afford new shoes, but I did need something dressier. All I had were old running shoes, and with two conferences coming up, I decided I needed to look a little more professional than neon-green and orange. <br />
<br />
I've never been stylish or trendy. I don't want to be. For years I refused to wear jeans because they were too cool, and I didn't want to be that. Take that as you will. But here in the land of conspicuous consumption, I stick out. <br />
<br />
Which brings me to my main point: If you want a pair of really nice leather dress shoes for a great price, Value Village in Coquitlam is the place to go. There is an entire rack of men's dress shoes in all sizes. The least expensive I saw were $9.99, the most expensive, $24.99. <br />
<br />
Now you should probably take this with a grain of salt. I wouldn't know a nice dress shoe from a cheap one if it kicked me in the face. All I know is that the men I see wearing these ridiculous pointed toe shoes—elf shoes, almost—seem to be the sort of well-dressed people you're supposed to want to be, and that they had scads of these shoes at Value Village. <br />
<br />
Of course, no one would want to <i>say</i> that they bought them at Value Village. That kind of ruins the effect. The point of these shoes seems to be that they <i>are</i> expensive. But as I've said, that isn't me. <br />
<br />
I thought about it for a minute, but decided that if I got a pair of these shoes I'd have to get a decent suit and all to go with them. I'm not going to do that, not even at a thrift store (though the last suit I did buy I bought at Goodwill—for a LARP costume). <br />
<br />
So I went over to the opposite side of the rack and looked through their sport and work shoes. After some thought, I picked out a pair of slightly scuffed Adidas Sambas for $6.99. Very professional.Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-90966445329933162432016-01-25T02:59:00.002-06:002016-01-25T03:26:13.659-06:00Coping<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a good thing I
like school. When I started talking to my professors about going to
grad school, one thing they all said was, you have to be willing to
sacrifice everything<span style="line-height: 100%;">—</span><span style="line-height: 100%;">family, friends, hobbies, homes</span><span style="line-height: 100%;">—</span><span style="line-height: 100%;">to
philosophy. I didn't listen. So it's a good thing I like school,
because I sacrificed all that other stuff.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The past six months
have been the hardest since about a decade ago. I don't know if I'm
worse off or better than that time. I don't think that's relevant.
But if you do some digging you'll notice something about that decade
ago mark. That's the time I started this blog. It's also the time
when I started racing ultras. Those were my ways of coping with my
problems and they worked pretty well.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Unfortunately, I've
sacrificed those things and now I'm paying the price. Luckily, I've
learned a few things in the intervening time. The big one is, keep
busy. I'm okay when I have something going on. Two days of my week
I'm so busy I forget to feel terrible. Those are my favourite days.
Then there are weekends. Weekends are bad. Weekends I don't have anything going on and
I haven't found anything yet to take the place of the kind of
mind-numbing bike ride that made training for ultras so satisfying.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I've had to find
things to fill the time. To that end I've started going to the gym.
I hate gyms and I've railed against them in this blog before, but
they're saving me now. I can thrash myself on a rowing machine, go
through my lifting routine, and then take a few minutes to relax in
the sauna (not as good as a Finnish sauna, but it'll do). Biking is
out, I tried one final time and—just no. Skiing is out too—too
expensive and far to travel. Running still has potential, but I need
to get back on that wagon. We'll see if I can find some races to
work toward.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've also started
writing. I got a good taste of it in my last two semesters at ISU
and I've gotten too much encouragement to let it drop. I like it in
much the same way that I like ultras, but really it's more like
working on bikes. To write a story you have to take something
apart—whatever that core idea is, the thing that must be told—see
how it works and then put it back together. And if it's put back
together in the right way you'll find that it works better than
before. I won't claim that I'm any good at it. Others will have to
make that judgment. But I've found a writing group, a place to
workshop. They seem to like my stuff so far—even if it isn't their
usual romance and thriller fare.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As the semester
progresses and I become busier I'll probably become happier.
Sometimes I think this is what it's all about, jumping from one
distraction to another. If you're lucky those distractions are
positive and lead to better and more fulfilling distractions. If
you're not they compound and grow in on themselves in a sneaky hate
spiral. </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-68625003250353001732016-01-09T14:46:00.004-06:002016-01-09T14:46:56.287-06:00Working Man's Hero<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="line-height: 100%;">Moving
to Vancouver has been tougher than expected. I'm not sure what I
expected, but I had been told, and had been expecting that it was a
more bike friendly city. Oh, sure, I can see the mountains from my
office (when it isn't foggy). And there are bears and trees. But
riding my bike, riding the way I used to ride, is out of the
question.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When
I trained for Trans Iowa, Arrowhead, Dirty Kansa, and Tuscobia, among
others, I trained daily, but it wasn't a burden. I was always
shocked by the time and money that people would throw into their
workouts, as though they had to become a martyr to the race. All I
did was go out for an hour ride after work. This wasn't a big deal.
I'd cycle home, change clothes, and head out for fifteen, or so,
miles of gravel. It took me about ten minutes to get out of town and
then I could really go. I never considered getting in a car or
taking the bus to a destination and then riding.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But
I can see that this isn't realistic here. Riding in the city isn't
something done lightly. There are few trails, the trails that do
exist go nowhere, and, while there are bike lanes on some roads, I
felt safer riding on highways without shoulders back in Iowa. I was
reminded of this when I was back in Ames over the break. I rode from
my old apartment to the movie theater, in the dark, through the snow,
without a helmet, in the part of town I would never go to when I
lived there because it was inaccessible by bike (South Duff, for
those who know). And I was able to do it without ever having someone
cut me off, honk at me, or box me in: three things that often happen
to me in Vancouver.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
One
might defend this city by pointing to all the beautiful mountains and
all the great mountain bike trails. One might mention all the bike
lanes downtown, or the trails in North Vancouver. But these are
destination rides. Getting there would mean an hour+ on the bus or a
long ride through the 'burbs. Sure, there are
fifteen-year-olds who use the 145 bus as a shuttle up Burnaby
mountain, on their $5k downhill bikes. Sure, I see folks driving
their carbon wonders around on top of their Audis. But I don't have
the time or money for that kind of “riding,”</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This
adjustment has been the hardest thing about coming to this city.
Maybe I am beginning to understand why the martyr attitude is normal. </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-89334594037738104502015-09-28T01:45:00.001-05:002015-09-28T01:47:52.359-05:00A Livelier Post<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Things are looking
up here in Vancouver. I mean, I was looking up at the moon earlier
and that was kind of cool, though it wasn't as cool as you had it
back in the Midwest. I thought that maybe I could get a photo of the
moon and Mt. Baker in the same shot, but sadly, no. By the time the
moon was visible, Baker was invisible, not to mention the two of them
being in different parts of the sky—er, horizon (in the case of the
mountain). My biggest accomplishment of the evening was not
telling the woman standing behind me to leave her negging, braggart
of a boyfriend. Maybe that wasn't an accomplishment, maybe that was
cowardice. </div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now that my cold
has abated I've been able to get out running again. And any running
here is a workout. I live at the top of a mountain and, if I
want to go anywhere, I have to run down. Then I have to
get home somehow, so I run up. Yesterday I did 300 vertical meters
(984') and about 12k, today I did 168 vertical meters (550') and
about 5k. No long runs just yet.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
School is fine and
all that, but I am trying hard to keep it in its box. I don't want
it to take over my life and make me miserable. Thus the running, and
also some reading.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I finished
Karl Ove Knausgaard's <i>My Struggle: Book One</i>. It's an
astounding book. I wasn't sure exactly how he would pull off a
rambling autobiographical non-fiction novel, but he did it. (Hint:
it's not actually rambling.) He uses sentences like, “The sky was
blue,” and “The grass was green,” and rather than roll my eyes
I'm like—YES! The sky is blue and the grass is green! That's
exactly how it is. Like any good literature though, meaning is more
than literal. If a novel could be summarized in a few sentences then it
should have been <a href="http://theliterarylink.com/leguinintro.html">said in a few sentences</a>. Luckily, for the art
lovers among us (and un-luckily for the literalists among us) there
is much that can only be said in metaphor. A great novel, I believe, is just as long as it needs to be to get this metaphor across. A six-volume
memoir-novel? I believe that Knausgaard knows what he is doing.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I also picked up
Stephen King's <i>On Writing</i>. This is the first book of King's
that I've read. Some very good essays, but never a book,
and oddly enough, never any fiction. I'm convinced that King is an
impressive writer. He knows how to get out of the way of a good
story, and maybe that's what's most important. But this is a book
about writing and, despite many attempts to become a memoir, it
succeeds. He has serviceable advice about writing. I don't agree
with him on every point (apostrophes, for instance), but he does give
good reasons for why he does what he does. And really, that's what I
want and need. I want to know how to make informed decisions on
writing. He's best when discussing revision. Every writer repeats
Strunk & White's advice (and every writer has repeatedly heard)
“Omit needless words.” What King does is show, by example, how
to use that advice. Then again, I think that King could take his own
advice and lose some of the snarky asides and vaguely sexist remarks
that pepper his writing. He needs to get out of his own way, take T.
S. Eliot's <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/learning/essay/237868">advice</a>, and
extinguish himself in his writing.</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-74454812079253573452015-09-19T18:28:00.001-05:002015-09-19T18:40:03.476-05:00Vancouver Rain<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjghhbb4bJXQtw31FuZKi-wHZFG3GnPGi_g1ILU1DQL63E6QBTcsA4yWFBfym9uZ9ycF75oOQ1uogq-OFU94eL80YNFLjGRZAfrvGd_BJETD47By5jPs9UXj7Er9w9UDTNjRVW1Uw/s1600/Terry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjghhbb4bJXQtw31FuZKi-wHZFG3GnPGi_g1ILU1DQL63E6QBTcsA4yWFBfym9uZ9ycF75oOQ1uogq-OFU94eL80YNFLjGRZAfrvGd_BJETD47By5jPs9UXj7Er9w9UDTNjRVW1Uw/s320/Terry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last night I had a
headache so bad that it made me wonder whether, were I stuck with
that kind of pain, could I go on living? I say this because years
ago I remember saying that I thought I could deal with most any
hardship so long as I could read and communicate. Such a level of
function does presuppose that I'm some way up Maslow's hierarchy, but
still, I didn't think it such a high standard. But this sinus
headache made me wonder. For the past few days I've had a nagging
cold and, while it hadn't stopped me dead, it had slowed me down. I
could read, but only fitfully and reading philosophy was out of the
question—when I read φ,
I ψ-ed.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Since
I arrived in Vancouver two and a half weeks ago I've been eating
beans & rice and peanut butter & jelly. I'm used to a pretty
boring
diet, the same veggie
sandwich every day for
thirteen years, but these
particular foods have
become disgusting in
short order. The
peanut butter & jelly is cloyingly sweet and the beans & rice
is just a bowl of fiber. However,
as my expenses total about 150% of my income—before food and
entertainment—I don't feel inclined to splurge. Today I decided I
had to splurge. After three days of leaving my room only to go to
class, I had to get out. My headache was significantly improved and
I was neither coughing nor snuffling constantly, so I went for a walk
all the way to the Starbucks on the other end of campus where I
bought a coffee for $2.25.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
thought that I would sit and read a sci-fi novel for a while, but
that wasn't to be. Every
once in a while I would give a snuffle, I'm still recovering from a
cold, after all, and when I did the woman
two tables over
would glance over her
shoulder and give me a look that said, “This is a nice coffee shop,
you don't belong here.” Maybe so. In Ames, Iowa, my look said,
grad student,
bike mechanic, or
bartender, but here it
says, hobo, drunk, guy-who-yells-racial-slurs-on-the-bus. The fact
is,
I haven't seen a single person with long hair and a beard here except
for people sleeping on the streets and, yes, yelling racial slurs on
the bus. I've seen more fist-fights
and heard more hate speech here in two weeks than I did in Iowa in a
lifetime. Perhaps I've
just lived a sheltered life.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When
I arrived I had a plan. I planned that I would get up each morning,
go for a run or a bike ride, write for an hour, then go and do my
eight hours at the office. I did pretty well the first week, but I
still don't have a bike and since I came up short of breath—the
first signs of this cold, I expect—on my run last Saturday I've had
to take it easy there too. Writing is sporadic. I
have two blog posts 90% done, but that last 10% is proving too much.
Some days I've managed
500-600 words—blog,
essay, or story—easy,
others it's too easy just to go in early and get a start on my day.
Hopefully this has just been an off week and I'll settle in to the
routine, but today it feels like it's all falling apart. Campus
looks more like a damp parking garage than a benevolent futuristic
utopia. The rains have
just begun here in Vancouver and will likely not abate until next
summer. </span>
</div>
</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-36717120445024273422015-07-17T14:02:00.001-05:002015-07-17T14:02:39.849-05:00Books Read: June<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Tim
O'Connor, </b><i><b>In the Lake of the Woods</b></i></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If
you read last month's books read you might notice a theme, another
war story by O'Connor. Here's the thing, these books were
recommended to me, not as war stories, but as stories of failure, and
honestly I'm not sure how to deal with failure—in literature or
life—which, as it turns out, is exactly what I'm interested in.
Failure is dear to my heart. It's something I'm good at, experienced
at, and so it's what I want to explore philosophically and through
creative works. I expect to fail.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
O'Connor
makes it clear early on: there will be no definite conclusion to his
story. We'll never find out what happens. And this isn't so far
removed from the idea of failure; uncertainty, skepticism, and doubt
figure in as well. There are times, probably most times, when the
situation is just too complicated and cloudy to allow us a the
satisfaction that we crave. It is no coincidence that I am skeptical
of simple answers and distrustful of certain people. I am not sure
we ever know the truth. I'm not even sure it's something we should
be worried about. Rather, in the face of uncertainty what should we
do?
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But
there's something else about failure in this story: the failure to
control one's life and destiny. Perhaps this is the more profound
failure, the one that makes this story interesting. The protagonist,
Wade, like many of us has a script for how he wants his life to go.
One thing will follow another—war hero, perfect wife, political
career—but all these turn out to rest on a rotten foundation. All
turn out to be illusions that he creates to get others to love him.
His failure to deal with reality leads to...what? His downfall,
death, escape, love, tragedy, freedom, or more illusion?
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Neil
Nakadate, </b><i><b>Looking </b></i><i><b>After</b></i><i><b>
Minidoka</b></i></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
know Neil as the nice guy who stops by my workplace from time to
time. I knew he was an English professor, but really I didn't, still
don't, know much about him. What I do know (a little) more about is
the Japanese-American experience. Nakadate describes the struggles
and paradoxes of a generation both interred in camps and serving on
the front lines in World War II, the ways in which they both fought
for their rights and lived with injustice. More to the point, he is
bringing to the surface those things that have been hidden—for many
reasons, by families and governments—and ought to be seen.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
book is part US history, part family history, and poetry. Maybe it's
best understood as a new genre (or new to me anyway): the situated
poem. Interspersed through the text are poems that bring us around
to a more personal wondering about the experiences of that
generation. But these poems would be meaningless to us, most of us,
without some knowledge of who Hirabayashi, Korematsu, and Yasui were,
the differences among <i>issei</i>, <i>nisei</i> and <i>sansei</i>,
and what Minidoka was.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Lewis
Hyde, </b><i><b>The Gift</b></i></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've
had a passing interest in gift economies for the past decade or so,
but the relationship has been troubled. To begin with I'm really bad
at giving gifts, even at the expected times. I question what and
whether the gift is appropriate and what it will make the recipient
think about me. Simply put I'm bad at thinking of other people; it
is hard for me to get out of my habitual self-consciousness. And
gift giving is, above all, an act of—not other-centeredness—but
group-centeredness; it brings the focus of the economy to the whole
of the group and the group's needs, not the needs of the individual.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
first thing I read on gift economy, a long decade ago, was <i>The
Personalist Manifesto</i> by Emmanuel Mounier. True to self-centered
form, I pretended to understand it. Actually, to say that I didn't
understand it would be charitable. I read the words, but
comprehended nothing. Still, from the little I understand about
personalism, it fails to be a group-oriented account, or if it is
group-oriented it is a group that includes the entirety of humanity.
A group that Hyde dismisses as too diffuse and too heterogeneous for
a healthy gift economy.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What
is needed for a working gift economy is a small group of people who
share some goal. In Hyde's case: artists. Artists become part of a
gift economy when they accept the influence of others in their
tradition and seek to incorporate, increase, and give back to the
community of artists. It's an argument that suggests our current
understanding of intellectual property and creativity is misguided.
Now, before you get all high and mighty on how artists need to make
money note that Hyde does recognize this fact. But he also suggests
that simply viewing art as a commodity, part of a market economy, is
inadequate to the discussion. The book is an attempt to navigate
these waters.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Art,
as it turns out, is not simply a sack of grain. Art and other
intellectual property gains value by being appreciated, commented on,
quoted, and stolen. One reason that Shakespeare is still relevant
today is that we are still using his works, still building on them.
Similar things happen in all arts, visual, music, literature, film
and so on. Some level of fluidity in the art community is necessary
to creativity. Now art can certainly become a commodity, but this
reduces its value as art either through dilution or, more likely,
through excessive restriction. How can we recognize the necessity of
homage, quotation, and outright theft, without denying the artist a
living? It turns out, to almost no one's surprise, to be a difficult
question. What isn't particularly difficult is that to be creative
we need to turn to the tradition we inhabit and enter into a
reciprocal gift relationship with it.<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote1sym" name="sdfootnote1anc"><sup>1</sup></a>
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Saul
Bellow, </b><i><b>Henderson the Rain King</b></i></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bellow
has been hovering around the edge of my reading list for a while now.
It only took the suggestion that he is an author of failure to kick
it to the top. And talk about failure he does. In fact he does it
so well that I'm starting to wonder if he meant it, if the whole
thing wasn't a failure in itself.<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote2sym" name="sdfootnote2anc"><sup>2</sup></a>
One might think that Bellow, having explored mistakes so intimately
in his writing, would be aware of his own potential for making them
and thereby gain some humility. But then it wouldn't be a failure
would it?</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Regardless,
it is fascinating to watch Henderson make wrong decision after wrong
decision based on his own simple understanding and certainty of the
world. He believes himself smarter and wiser than he is. He
believes he can help, can give the benefit of himself to the world.
He wants to be a doctor, but can't seem to get the “first do no
harm” part of the Hippocratic Oath. A man who wants to be a doctor
to the world? Who desperately wants something to fix? Where have we
seen this hubris before?</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alongside
this is Bellow's use of metaphor. I found myself walking down the
street, looking up and wondering: how would Bellow describe this?
Would he turn the usual metaphor about the freedom and possibility of
floating clouds into, “the clouds reached down to claw the earth?”
I don't know. That's just what struck me now. It gets me thinking.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Thomas
Harris, </b><i><b>Red Dragon</b></i></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
could criticize this book on the basis of genre—I don't like
psychological thrillers, they violate my insistence on
underdeterminacy in literature—but that isn't the point or why I
read it. I read this because of Lewis Hyde and David Foster Wallace.
Harris is a master of pacing, readability, and dialogue. Wallace
respected that, saw what he was doing, and emulated it (and
occasionally stole it. DFW was a fan of Hyde as well).
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Most
of all, I noticed that Harris' dialogue was always immaculately
readable. He never suffers from the problem of confusion over who is
speaking, however difficult the exchange. I could simply read a line
and know, without any other textual help, who was speaking it. I
would know that Jack Crawford was speaking rather than Will Graham
just by the tone and attitude of the quote. And this is done without
feeling stilted or unnatural. It's an incredible skill.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Harper
Lee, </b><i><b>To Kill a Mockingbird</b></i></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
like literature. One of the reasons I like it is that it offers up
multiple interpretations and spurs conversations about, well,
anything and everything. The reason I point this out is that it
would be really easy to make this novel into a morality tale; most
readers do and most criticisms of the novel assume that it is so.
But I think there's more going on. There are two things I'd like to
keep in mind here. First the story is from the point of view of a
young girl, a young girl who adores her father and thinks that he can
do no wrong. I think most of us are like that in our childhoods,
assuming that our parents are smarter, stronger, and more moral than
anyone else. In my opinion this novel is the story of how Scout
finds out that her father isn't the divine being she thinks he is.
This leads to my second point: this is a story about how Atticus
fails.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There
are three values that seem to drive Atticus: the rule of law, the
innate goodness of people, and non-interference in others' business.
But these three values<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote3sym" name="sdfootnote3anc"><sup>3</sup></a>
are bound to come into conflict and he is bound to fail. Atticus
fails in the courtroom (note that Scout does not understand what is
going on, in spite of her protests to the contrary). Atticus fails
to be the head of his household; he lets his sister dictate what is
right for Scout. And perhaps most tellingly, Atticus' values fail in
the last scene of the novel; his faith in the rule of law and the
goodness of other people is challenged by the events of the night.
Ultimately he ends up compromising his values in order to keep the
peace.
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
While
I have not read, or read much about, <i>Go Set a Watchman</i>, I
don't think we should be surprised by what an adult Jean Louise
reveals about Atticus. Remember, the trial and verdict, while
important to the story, are not its conclusion, rather it is the
reminder that it is a sin to kill a mockingbird. Think about how
robust—or more to the point, how weak—Atticus' values are,
especially given their time and place. What do they entail? What do
they allow?</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div id="sdfootnote1">
<div class="sdfootnote-western" style="page-break-before: always;">
<a class="sdfootnotesym" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote1anc" name="sdfootnote1sym">1</a>
For the most amazing example of this I recommend Jonathan Lethem's
“The Ecstasy of Influence,” which I first read on the toilet.
http://harpers.org/archive/2007/02/the-ecstasy-of-influence/
</div>
<div class="sdfootnote-western" style="page-break-before: always;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote2">
<div class="sdfootnote-western">
<a class="sdfootnotesym" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote2anc" name="sdfootnote2sym">2</a>
I know that one of my favorite authors, Ray Bradbury, completely
misunderstands himself. Many claim his worst work as his best
(<i>Farenheit 451</i> is awful. Sorry). Bradbury doesn't write
about the oppression of totalitarian governments, he writes about
the soft oppression of culture, even if he can't see it.</div>
</div>
<br />
<div id="sdfootnote3">
<div class="sdfootnote-western" style="page-break-before: always;">
<a class="sdfootnotesym" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote3anc" name="sdfootnote3sym">3</a>
You could probably generate an <i>I Robot</i> like series of stores
based on these three values, or really any list of values. </div>
</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-42708758877776157212015-06-14T11:12:00.000-05:002015-07-17T14:02:57.210-05:00Books Read: May<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Have
I lost my last shred of humanity? Last month I was unable to
read—bored with, really—two science fiction novels, but found
myself staying up late and avoiding responsibilities to read Moby
Dick. The two sci-fi novels weren't slouches either, Octavia Butler
and Vernor Vinge are fine writers. I simply didn't care.
Melville though, wow. Even the spoilers didn't distract (the ship
sinks, just like <i>Titanic</i>).</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I
suppose that sounds like a <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2015/05/how-to-brag/394136/?utm_source=SFFB">humblebrag</a>.
Maybe it is. As Muhammad Ali said, “It ain't braggin' if it's
true.”<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote1sym" name="sdfootnote1anc"><sup>1</sup></a> But
then Ali wouldn't be worried about the humble bit.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I
do think it's odd that I've (at least temporarily) lost my taste for
sci-fi. It's not as though I haven't championed the genre before.
I'll continue to do so. There's a lot of good stuff (and a lot of
dreck, but that's largely a <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SturgeonsLaw">function
of volume</a>) in sci-fi. Here's the thing though, sci-fi is plot
driven, moral driven, it has a clear arc of progress and a certainty
that, even if we can't tell the good guys from the bad, at least we
can know what they did. The facts aren't in dispute. Anytime
sci-fi <a href="http://www.newstatesman.com/2015/05/neil-gaiman-kazuo-ishiguro-interview-literature-genre-machines-can-toil-they-can-t-imagine">diverges</a> too
much from this, say in Delaney's </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><i>Dhalgren</i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">,
Bradbury's </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><i>Martian
Chronicles</i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">,
or Vonnegut's </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><i>Slaughterhouse
Five</i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">,
it is difficult to peg as sci-fi.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">What
I appreciate, what got me excited, about the books I did read this
past month is that they aren't so easy. They're epistemically
impoverished and evidence rich. They ask the reader to construct the
character as a real human being, not a caricature. I think it is this
demand on the reader that makes literature meaningful. It is this
demand that makes me want to write, to emulate (all humility aside)
these writers and explore what it might mean to be human and reclaim
that humanity that I've lost. Why is this? I believe we're all a bit
of a mystery, even to ourselves—then again, I've been told, in the
most strenuous way short of physical violence, not to project my own
inadequacies and failings onto others. But what can I do?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">It
is tempting here to delve into specifics, to tell you why Ahab isn't
the simple obsessive he's made out to be in popular culture, to go on
a tangent about negative capacity, but this isn't lit-crit, this is a
blog listing the books I've read since school let out in May. So:</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><b>Tim
O'Brien, <i>The Things They Carried</i>.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">This
is the only book to read on how to tell, not just a true war story,
but that oxymoron, the true story. I don't trust simple stories. I
don't trust easy answers. If I could… But when someone tells me
that something is true, or right, or obvious, my eyes narrow, I
check my wallet, I lock my door.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I
would say that these stories are universal, that they tell us
something bigger, that these aren't stories about war. These are
stories about life. But then I know better. I've been told. I can't
comment—I'm not privileged to comment—on war stories. No, that's
not right either. The privilege runs the other way. I'm privileged
not to comment.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><b>Herman
Melville, <i>Moby Dick</i>.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">There
is nothing new under the sun. Everything has been done before,
footnotes, lengthy asides, doubt, and so on. All those literary
techniques and themes you thought were invented in the last half of
the twentieth century were already used by Melville. And it's worth
reading just for that.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">There
is an old joke that a classic is a book that people praise but never
read. Perhaps. But I have found that classics are most often classics
for good reason. I was bored by action and sci-fi. I've been bored by
thrillers. I was never bored with Moby Dick. I read it in four days
and when I read O'Brien's <i>How to Tell a True War Story</i> and
then Chapter 54, 'The Town-Ho's Story,' I couldn't help but note that
Melville had written a war story. Why did it happen? What's the
moral? Wrong question.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><b>Truman
Capote, <i>In Cold Blood</i>.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">This
book sits next to on my shelf, shares a publisher with, and has a
similar cover to <i>The Stranger</i>. That's serendipitous as
the two also share themes of crime, purpose, and capital punishment.
I think back to reading Camus in high school. I loved the book, but
got a test question wrong. The question was, why did Mersault kill
the Arab? I don't recall my answer, but I read into the story I
couldn't help but speculate on why he did it. What it meant. But the
correct answer, the answer indicated, was that the sun was in his
eyes. That answer was too literal for me, yet not literary enough.
How can you sum up the reason for the book in that phrase, “the sun
was in his eyes?” Yes that's it. No it isn't.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Now,
why did Dick and Perry kill the Clutters?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I
didn't find this book terrifying in the same way that others seem to.
I didn't have nightmares. I wasn't made nauseous.<a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote2sym" name="sdfootnote2anc"><sup>2</sup></a>
I find it terrifying that Capote makes these killers human. He makes
them your brother—you. I don't want to read about inhuman killers,
Lecters and Dahmers. Inhuman killers, psychopaths, sociopaths, may as
well be accidents, rockslides, lightning. Human killers—killers who
are like us—that is scary. But that isn't it either. This book
isn't scary at all. It is sad and only sad.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><b>Thom
Jones, <i>Pugilist at Rest</i>.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Another
book of war stories. Similar to O'Brien, but where O'Brien looks at
war as an all too real dream, a nightmare come true that one hides
from, Jones finds his message in war as a place of belonging, a place
that might be home and brings a perverted form of comfort that peace
and civilian life fails to provide. The image of the <i>Pugilist
at Rest</i>, the statue and the words, brings together disparate
images, violence and peace, readiness and relaxation. The pugilist is
never truly at rest. Or, if he is it is a kind of senescence. Here I
can't help think of Muhammad Ali. Where do we find our value when our
powers are taken from us? What are we good for? Ali has his answer,
do we? Does it satisfy?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div id="sdfootnote1">
<div class="sdfootnote" style="margin-left: 0in; page-break-before: always; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote1anc" name="sdfootnote1sym">1</a> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Muhammad
Ali never said this.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote2">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=25706603#sdfootnote2anc" name="sdfootnote2sym">2</a>No,
it was <i>Rich Dad; Poor Dad </i>that made me nauseous and wouldn't
let me sleep. Dead serious, that is what my nightmares are made of.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote1">
</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-81638376003593510302014-08-12T01:54:00.000-05:002014-08-12T01:54:22.814-05:00Books Read: July<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It seems I can only keep up with the
books I'm reading on this blog. I do have more to say, about life,
the universe, and everything, but getting it out of my head and onto
the page doesn't seem to be happening. I think it's because I've
been procrastinating on revising my writing sample (for the 3<sup>rd</sup>
time). If I turn on the computer and open up a word processor I feel
obliged to write a couple of hundred words about the raven paradox
and I'm a little sick of the raven paradox right now.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
About three weeks ago I realized that
in my rush to apply to grad school (an open secret) I had given
someone else control of my happiness. Not one particular person, but
just handed it over to professors, grades, acceptance into grad
programs and so on. I don't do well (and I expect most of us don't)
when I'm not in charge of my own happiness. I've been there before.
I've handed happiness over to school before, to co-workers, to
relationships. It doesn't work and it makes me rebel. I think it's
a part of the reason that I didn't do well in school before. One of
the things that allowed me to go back to school has been that I am
doing it for my own reasons and not to please anyone else (you're
welcome to be pleased about it, but I'm not doing it for you).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So upon realizing that I had turned
those reasons, responsibility for my happiness, over to someone else
I stopped and reevaluated. I had to approach this like an ultra. In
the middle of a race you will lose your motivation and not want to
continue. It happens to everyone. The trick, for me, is to look
around and remind myself that this is where I want to be, I am doing what I want to do, and even if it isn't fun, be in awe of it
and what I can do. So that's what I'm doing now. I'm in awe of
all the learning I've done and the papers I've written. I know I'm
not done and maybe I'll change my mind about grad school, but for
right now it's easy enough to act as though I'm going to do it (that
includes revising that paper). This is where I want to be and what I
want to do right now.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maybe I lied about not being able to
get this stuff typed up. Once again I haven't read as much as I
thought I would. I think that's in part for the reasons listed
above. But looking back I guess I have read a fair bit, most of it
classic sci-fi, the comfort food of books.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Infinite Possibilities</i>, Robert
Heinlein.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is a collection of three of
Heinlein's “juvenile fiction” novellas. <i>Tunnel in the Sky</i>
was so-so. Although it had a few good psychological elements towards
the end it seemed to be a stream of consciousness Boy's Life meets
Lord of the Flies. <i>Time For the Stars</i> was much better as it
had a good hard sci-fi grounding and explored the twins paradox of
special relativity with literal twins. Not his best, but fun.
<i>Citizen of the Galaxy</i> was the last and strongest. Not super
deep, but it brings up some good points about how blind we are to
what goes on in other places and cultures and different sorts of
freedom. Besides, any novella that subverts the happily-ever-after
trope by means of stifling bureaucracy is okay by me.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Tao Te Ching</i>, Lao-Tzu/Stephen
Mitchell.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A good reminder that I don't know as
much as I think I do.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The Nine Billion Names of God</i>,
Arthur C. Clarke.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A collection of Clarke's favorites of
his own short stories. Most of these follow the sci-fi short story
formula pretty closely. Find a curious scientific fact/theory, run
with it for a while, twist ending. Good stuff anyway. Clarke's dark
but goofy sense of humor along with a frontier aesthetic and humanist
ethic underpin these stories. It makes me wonder what is really
important: here and now, something greater, or nothing at all.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Apology</i>, Plato.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A good reminder that I don't know as
much as I think I do.</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-34941311248684115442014-07-17T02:16:00.004-05:002014-07-17T02:18:29.133-05:00Books Read: JuneWell, I didn't do as much reading in June as I'd have liked to. Actually that's a bit misleading. I read a lot, but not many books. There is just too much on the internet that catches my attention and keeps me from reading all the books I'd like to. There's a surprising number of good articles out there. <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Sturgeonslaw">Sturgeon's Revelation</a> may be true, but 10% of the internet is still quite a bit. I also got a lot read in a book I've been working my way through for a while, but probably won't finish for another month or so. It's not an easy one. Here are the books I read in whole in June:<br />
<br />
<i>The Limits of Science</i>, Peter Medawar.<br />
Really I wanted to read <i>Memoirs of a Thinking Radish</i>, but since the neither of the two libraries I have easy access to had it on hand I read this instead. I think I read this one too fast and without enough thought. He's an easy and accessible writer and a good anthropologist of science, but I think that made it easy to miss what he was saying in some cases. I kind of stopped reading after he dismissed induction by way of an apparent paradox; a paradox that I think has been reasonably solved. Not only that, but I don't think that, understood properly, that particular paradox bears on induction one way or the other. Because of that rather trivial mistake I kind of skimmed the rest of the book so I may have missed what he was getting at. I read him as saying something like Stephen Jay Gould, that science and religion are separate domains and never the two shall meet. Of course hardly anyone believes this, not even Medawar or Gould. Their religious beliefs were heavily influenced by their scientific worldview. Still, a great scientist who I happen to think got the philosophy wrong is still worth listening to on the topic of what science is and how it works. <br />
<br />
<i>Quiet: The Power of Introverts In a World That Can't Stop Talking</i>, Susan Cain.<br />
As a self-identified introvert I object to the <a href="http://themetapicture.com/how-to-interact-with-the-introverted/">hamster ball theory</a> of introversion. I find it insulting to both the introvert and the extrovert, as though introverts are somehow fragile and special care needs to be taken or that extroverts are boorish and annoying and ought to back off, neither of which is accurate or useful. I had hoped to find some alternative understanding in Cain's book, but it wasn't to be. I don't think it's a bad book, and it certainly isn't as narrow-minded as the hamster ball theory, but it doesn't do much to explain introversion/extroversion. The problem, I think, lies with trying to force the concepts to do more work than they are prepared to do. For instance, Cain makes the case that introverts have trouble in school because schools encourage speaking up. On the other hand Cain also makes the case that introverts do well in school because they can focus better than extroverts. So which is it? Do introverts do better in school or worse? I think the answer is that the I/E continuum doesn't have much to do with it at all. There's a lot more in the book trying to reduce I/E to some other function like sensitivity or openness to experience, but these seem to be different traits that are at least partially independent of I/E. Open/closed, sensitivity/insensitive, introvert/extrovert, liberal/conservative, fox/hedgehog. Once we cram everyone into some sort of simple dichotomy that purports to explain so much we end up losing what explanatory power the concept had to begin with. Still, the concept does have some usefulness. By knowing that I'm an introvert you know whether I'd generally prefer to go to a large exciting party with lots of people or talk one-on-one with someone. Leave it at that and it's fine. Then again the real case that Cain wants to make is that we ought to value the opinions of those who aren't outspoken or dead certain of their beliefs and that thesis seems entirely reasonable. Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-87239180054975817052014-06-28T00:45:00.000-05:002014-06-28T01:19:02.277-05:00You can make it, (only) if you try.There are a few things about pop-philosophy that really get to me. What do I meant by pop-phil? I mean aphorisms, mostly about how to succeed, what we ought to do with our lives, what we should value. It's not meant to be rigorous, it's meant to provide some guidance; to reassure or inspire us. Pretty obviously there's some spillover from/to pop-psych. Mostly, I don't mind it, Epictetus'<i> Enchiridion</i> (hardly new) is probably the best of the bunch, but unfortunately some of the aphorisms in other works or oft cited on social media are just plain wrong. <br />
<br />
The big one that bugs me is getting conditionals mixed up. I suppose it could be affirming the consequent, but I don't even think that it's obvious what the antecedent and consequent are intended to be in many of these cases. Usually it's something like: If you work hard you will be successful. If this is true then what do you know about someone who is not successful? Well, they must not have tried. But of course that isn't true. People work hard and still fail all the time. And what do you know about someone who succeeds? Not much. Maybe they worked hard, maybe not. But flip it around, take the inverse and you get: If you don't work hard, you won't succeed. That seems much more true to me. And what do you know if someone doesn't succeed? Not much. Maybe they worked hard and something got in their way. You don't know. You can't point fingers. You can't blame every failure on a lack of trying. But at least you know what you ought to do if you want to succeed. You ought to try. You ought to work hard. <br />
<br />
Another one is getting feelings mixed up with facts. Confidence, fear, and epiphanies are some of the big offenders here. One might consider these to be semantic disagreements, sometimes yes, but we still ought to be careful not to get too much spillover from one meaning to another. Being selfish or judgmental is different from having self-interest or being discerning (respectively) even though these terms are sometimes used interchangeably. <br />
<br />
I remember back in middle school someone claimed (in the gym locker room) that they weren't afraid of anything. I answered back that I was afraid of lots of things. I was justifiably afraid of falling from heights, getting in a car accident, disease, and the like. Now maybe I'm getting fear and respect mixed up here, but I don't think the other guy was claiming that he had respect for heights, etc., it was a brag. Of course being afraid here doesn't mean that I stayed in bed all day. It meant/means that when I briefly worked as a rigger I clipped in, I do my best to drive responsibly, and I wash my hands, among other things. Of course since we're talking about feelings versus facts here there are plenty of cases where it is unreasonable to have fear and fear is distinct from panic.<br />
<br />
Confidence is a similar case. If you are confident that you know what you are doing it doesn't mean that you do know what you're doing. If you know what you're doing it doesn't mean that you're confident. Well placed confidence is great. It means you can apply your knowledge appropriately, but in many cases misplaced confidence is worse than no confidence. Well placed confidence comes from long experience; from successes and peer evaluation. If you think you're a great poet, but no one likes your stuff maybe you ought to take a step back (working hard couldn't hurt though). Hedging bets and being unsure of oneself is a really great thing when it is called for. <br />
<br />
I don't trust epiphanies or “ah-ha” moments either. Just because I think I understand something doesn't mean that I do. Just as with confidence, understanding is something that is proven through experience, not emotion. If I read something and think, “yes, I got it,” I can't really be sure until I've checked my knowledge and believe me, many times I haven't “got it.”<br />
<br />
“Do or do not, there is no try,” is still pretty cool however.Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-74200603721903546652014-06-12T02:49:00.001-05:002014-06-12T02:49:22.548-05:00Be Careful<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In my last post I mentioned that two of
my professors had cautioned me to “be careful”. I think it's
good advice and something I need to work at, especially in the field
I've chosen. It's easy to take shortcuts and wave off mistakes with
a, “you know what I mean.” Much of the time of course it's
perfectly reasonable to be close enough or approximately right. Much
of the time it doesn't matter. But then there are times when it
does. Here are a few:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I try to be careful on this blog. I'm
not always. Of course it's a personal blog and not a professional
blog. The point isn't that I argue convincingly or am precise in all
that I say. It's more important that I get across what I'm up to,
how I'm feeling, and what I'm thinking. There's a balance to be
struck here of course. Too careful and I write too much about too
little. Not careful enough and I make unsubstantiated claims that
deserve to fall. That said, in two of my posts of this year I have
written about someone whom I don't know and been (at least a little)
critical of them. In both cases one of the first responses was from
the person who I was critical of! Its always a little shocking when
someone I don't know reads my blog. I don't think that my criticisms
were wrong, but if I had known they were reading I might have chosen
my words more carefully and made weaker claims. I guess the internet
really is a small place. All the more reason to be civil.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've been taking an online logic class.
Last night I took the first substantial quiz over the material. I
missed a few questions. I didn't do poorly, but I really wanted to
ace it. My first reaction to those questions that I missed was,
“hey, that's a trick question,” or “that's just being
pedantic.” True of course, but it's a logic exam: trick questions
and pedantism are just exactly what the test is over. The real
lesson is: be careful.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A couple of weeks ago I was invited to
play a game of Pente. For those who don't know it's a game somewhere
between othello and connect four with a little go thrown in. I'm
always a little leery of playing strategy games, somehow I think that
if I don't do well it reflects poorly on my intelligence and thus my
character, but knowing my lack of care, my need to improve, and
remembering my “learning attitude” I decided to join in. I
didn't win, but I did once force a loss. I'm actually looking
forward to playing again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Over the past couple of days I've seen
some pretty heavy Facebook arguments get going. It starts with a
post or shared link with some uninformed or ill-formed arguments in
it. Then some other party, with a differing opinion comments and
gives their own uninformed or ill-formed argument for the other side.
In particular these arguments seem to get down questions of what is
science, how does explanation work, and how do we know things. These
are just the questions that I am most drawn to in philosophy.
They're where I want to do work. But I do not feel qualified to butt
in, even when the questions are exactly the ones I am working on.
Why not? These are difficult issues. I don't know what the answers
are much of the time. When I do have an answer or an opinion
Facebook is not generally a good forum to discuss it. It's pretty
much impossible to be succinct and yet get across an argument for why
I believe something. I hardly want to assert that I know the truth
because I took a class (one!) in it. To really get something across I need to sit down, discuss, and think about it. Thinking clearly isn't something that happens in 140 characters. Devastating arguments don't happen in a three minute video. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In sum: The more I learn, the less I
know. </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-22704966109958178982014-06-09T00:44:00.000-05:002014-06-09T00:51:39.230-05:00Books Read: May<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm in a bit of a quandary here. I
read a book that wasn't exactly assigned for class, but does relate
directly to what I'm studying in school. Actually I'd say that the
book has gotten me in a little trouble. It caused me to go off on a
tangent in a paper I was writing. In any case since I'm a bit fussy
about what I say about what I'm studying I don't think I ought to
write much about it here. When I do say something I want to get it
right or at least have thought carefully about it. As more than one
(two!) of my professors has admonished me, I need to “be careful.”
So if you came here for a review of <i>Pursuit of Truth </i>by W. V.
Quine you've come to the wrong place.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That said, I have done some less than
academic reading this month. I won't try to justify it too much, but
I do believe there is such a thing as 'marginal time'; time that
isn't worth as much in terms of getting stuff done, but is well spent
in entertainment or napping. Sometimes watching TV, reading
celebrity autobiographies, or schlock fantasy really is the best use
of your time. So with no further ado, here are the books I read in
May:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Lies of Locke Lamora</i> by Scott
Lynch</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A well written fantasy novel. No
dragons, but a few dungeons. It's pretty classic low fantasy fare,
but Lynch does a good job of fleshing out the characters and giving
some plausibility to their hi-jinks. I also appreciate that while
this book is a part of a series it is also stand-alone. I like
series, TV, movie, book, etc., that are either episodic (this book, Star Trek) or have a complete arc (LOTR, Babylon 5), but I can't stand
those that are soap operas, that aren't going anywhere, but like to
trick you into thinking they are (Game of Thrones, Lost, anything by
Orson Scott Card). <i>Lies</i> hints at deeper back story, but
doesn't make it essential to understanding and appreciating the
story.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Singled Out</i> by Bella DePaulo</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I picked this one up while I was
'researching' my last blog post. I was looking for a single people's
support group online, but there doesn't seem to be one. Or at least
not of the sort I was looking for. The cursory search that I did
pointed me to DePaulo's work and website. Apparently she's the big
name in research on single people qua single people. That is, not
single people who want to become coupled as their primary life goal.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first few chapters are occupied
with taking marriage researchers to task for sloppy and misleading
studies and headlines. I think she does a pretty good job of
demonstrating the problems that plague the field: conflating single
with divorced, widowed, or coupled-but-unmarried, cross-sectional
versus longitudinal studies, leading survey questions, biased funding
sources. None of these problems are fatal, but they must be
carefully parsed. What do the studies really say? DePaulo's own
studies, however, seem to run into some of the same problems. She sometimes
conflates categories when it suits her and her website sports a
blatantly leading survey.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The second part of the book is more
about the stigma and discrimination that single people are subject
to. In large part I agree with her. Coupled people and even more so
married people are given privileges that single people are not. Tax
breaks and health care discounts on the more tangible side and a
perception that they are less responsible and more selfish on the
less tangible. Unfortunately she sometimes goes too far by
suggesting that coupled people are in fact the less responsible and
more selfish ones. We'd best settle on what it means to be
responsible and unselfish before we try and point fingers on those
topics.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I read it DePaulo is trying to make
two different points in the book. First that single people are
happy, healthy, and productive. Second, that they are but ought not
be discriminated against. She uses the first point to bolster the
second. I don't see the need for the first point though. It seems
clear enough to me that even if single people were less productive,
happy, or healthy in general that they ought not be discriminated
against just for their 'alternative lifestyle.'
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Test of Metal</i> by Matthew Woodring
Stover</div>
Yes that's really the title. Sorry.
It's a <i>Magic: The Gathering</i> novel. I've only played the game
a few times (okay, only twice) and I had no idea that there was
actually some sort of back story for the game. Apparently there is,
or at least there is money to be made in selling novels with the name
slapped on them. In fact this is a very well written fantasy novel.
I've read a few of Stover's books in the past and true to form he
elevates what can be a very painful genre to thoughtful and
introspective heights. It might be that early on he lampshades a
Gettier problem or that he talks in some detail about the
consequences of the existence of many worlds (I'm a sucker for that
stuff), but I really thought it had something going on. Stover is
also well aware that he isn't writing a literary novel. He has no
problem throwing in anachronistic phrases and acknowledging that he's
writing for an editor and a shared world. It seems like he has fun
messing with other people's characters. Also there are dragons in
this one. Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-40132840475734130572014-06-01T19:52:00.000-05:002014-06-01T21:17:06.172-05:00Being Single<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A few weeks ago I had the opportunity
to reflect on being single. I needed someone to drive me to and from
a surgical appointment and I didn't know where to turn. For a moment
I was envious of those people who have someone special in their
lives. Who know exactly who they are supposed to turn to in times of
need. I don't have anyone like that; anyone who is my everything
and who will do anything for me.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I have never really felt the need to be
in a relationship. I've tried dating. I've had one relatively serious relationship that
didn't work out. Other than that I've been single my entire life. But I am perfectly happy on my own. In fact
I was much less happy, much more uncomfortable, in a relationship. I
felt as though I was always performing for my S.O. and never quite
like I was myself. I told myself that it was just because I wasn't
used to it, I would get used to including someone in all of my plans,
and that eventually I would be able to be myself again. I would
become comfortable. That didn't happen. I should have realized, I
did realize, just two months in that the relationship was not going
to work out. Still I continued, sure that I simply had to get over
my misgivings.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Eight months later I finally called it
quits. It was one of the best decisions I've made in my life. I was
upset about it of course. It probably took me two years to get over
the disappointment. No one likes failing at something, especially
something that everyone is told they ought to do. Something we are
told that we need to be truly happy. More than that though I was
relieved. I was able to do what I wanted for the reasons that I
wanted. (What I wanted was to race ultras, but I've already told
that story.)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still, there I was: low wage job, no
car, no house, no kids, over thirty, and single. It looked like a
recipe for no life.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then a few years ago I was talking with
a good friend who was also single. She asked, when are we going to
get to real life? When do we start? I hadn't really thought about
it, but the answer just came out of my mouth: Life is what happens to
you while you're making other plans. We already had lives and our
lives had meaning. I was a bike mechanic who liked his job and loved
to race ultras. Who cares what other people, or even I, thought I
needed to be happy? I was happy!
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Since then I've tried dating a few
times, but it hasn't worked out. Usually when I felt that someone else was interested in me. I haven't been on a second date though and,
largely, that's my choice. For me the costs simply don't outweigh
the benefits. There is nothing special that a romantic relationship
offers me that I need or particularly want. I am perfectly satisfied
being single and the longer I stay single the more I think it suits
me.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The realization I have come to is that
I was being too narrow minded when I thought that I needed an S.O. to
help me. I have relationships that work for me. Marriage or a
coupled relationship is no guarantee that someone will be there for
you and neither does being single guarantee that there is no one
there for you. I had two great offers from good friends, people whom
I trust, to drive me to and from my appointment. It was humbling to
realize that I needed someone and more humbling to realize that
someone really was there for me. My view of relationships was too
narrow. I have friends to have intellectual discussions with. I
have friends to bike or run with. I have friends to have deep
personal discussions with. I don't need someone to be my everything
when I have so many someones who are something. </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-45635475938682301982014-05-17T01:01:00.002-05:002014-05-17T01:01:48.734-05:00Some thoughts on going back to school<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm two semesters into my return to
school. I've managed to achieve my GPA goal (even if those weren't
the grades I deserved). I'm off academic probation for the first
time since I don't know when. So what have I learned?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had to start out in community college
because I had been kicked out of ISU back in 2000. I honestly didn't
know whether or not I could hack it. I kind of figured I was an
irresponsible know-it-all who was really not cut out for anything
remotely academic. While I can't say for sure that I'm not an
irresponsible know-it-all (I can think of one or two people who might
describe me that way) I do know that I managed to pull off a 4.0 at
DMACC. Honestly it's a little bit disappointing when you want to
work on improving your writing and you get a paper back with a
perfect score and a “Great job! Loved the Wittgenstein quote.” If
anything makes you look like a know-it-all it's a Wittgenstein quote.
Worse than perfect scores with banal comments though are A- scores
with no comments at all. It's tough to improve if I don't know what
to improve upon.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So anyway, I got back into ISU with the
help of a few recommendation letters (thank you!). I still wasn't
sure I could handle it. After all were my grades at DMACC just a
reflection of my peers? It wasn't too hard to set the curve in those
classes. Add to that jumping straight into 400 level philosophy
classes after taking 100 level survey classes. Whatever one may say
it is not true that philosophy is just bullshit. If it is bullshit
it is very specific bullshit. You can be wrong, very wrong. I
hadn't really bounced serious ideas off of someone else in a very
long time and I know how bad it is to work in an echo chamber. What
if my ideas were way off, stoner philosophy, or just plain crazy?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It didn't take long to figure out that
school is not that hard. It is embarrassingly easy. Do the work,
show up for class, ask questions. That's it. Occasionally I felt
like I was cheating when I saw more talented students skipping class
and turning in assignments late or not at all. Why should I get a
better grade than someone who understands the material better just
because I followed instructions? What is a grade supposed to reflect
anyway?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I did pick up a few other lessons along
the way: Don't worry about not understanding something or not doing
as well as you'd hoped. This is what I have come to call a "learning
attitude”. Why are you in school? To learn. If you already knew
it you wouldn't be in school so don't be surprised when you get
something wrong. Rather take that as an opportunity to improve. If
you do think that you already understand then check your knowledge.
I made sure to ask questions and try to restate my understanding of
what we were learning. My motto became: Dare to be Stupid. If I
said something in class and got it wrong I counted that as a victory.
I had learned that I didn't understand. I knew where I stood and
could move from there.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can't say that I've learned these
lessons perfectly. There is a (large) part of me that thinks I ought
to get everything right and if I don't it's simply because I am not
smart enough. I have to constantly remind myself how to succeed.
Even though I have now managed a 4.0 at ISU I am still afraid of the
echo chamber. Even though a (deeply flawed) first draft won me a
scholarship for best paper I know I have a long way to go. </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-91125709542833563612014-05-08T01:49:00.002-05:002014-05-08T02:09:16.976-05:00Summer Break: Semester's Reading<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sorry it's been so long, but if you're
a follower you know that I've been busy. Specifically I've been back
in school. Now that I'm free for the summer I can go back to
blogging in full force. Actually right now I'm feeling a little
eager to blog, but that might just be because for the last semester
I've been writing 2+ short essays per week. As I noted on my very
first blog post though I started the blog (in part) to work on my
writing in the hopes of going back to school. So that happened.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anyway, hopefully I'll be back at it
for the summer. 2-4 posts per month is the plan. I'll start with an
easy one: Books read Fall and Spring semesters.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm not going to recount the books I
read for class, though since I did take a sci-fi lit class in the
Fall I certainly could. I'm just going to talk about the books I
read for “fun”. (It has been a while though so I may have missed
a few.)
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
-A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
(Almost) Exactly the same as the
movie. Extremely well written and a quick read. I had been
intimidated by it as it is one of those “classics”. I ought to
know better by now. Books do not generally become classics if they
are poorly written and unengaging. It isn't as shocking as the
movie, I don't see how it could be, but it is worth the read. It's
not for everyone and if it's not for you you probably know it.
Still, if you read it or watch the movie you must commit. Watch the
whole thing and don't dismiss it until you've thought about it a
little.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
-The first 200 or so pages of Atlas
Shrugged by Ayn Rand</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some books you just feel obliged to
read (ironic, no?). I have been trying to read something, anything,
by Rand for about 15 years now. This is the most I've managed. Some
of you will ask, “Why do you even bother.” Others will ask,
“What is wrong with you that you did't get it?” To the first
question: I want to take it seriously and get beyond the caricature.
Some people whom I really respect cite her as a major positive
influence. One thing I don't like doing is simply dismissing
someone's opinion without understanding why they hold it. I don't
like saying, “You like/believe this because you're stupid.” It
is condescending and stifles any meaningful conversation that could
have been had. To the second I can only say, I don't get it. I have
a basic understanding of the philosophy and I can see ways in which
it makes sense. I can also see some problems with it. But really
that isn't why I stopped reading it. Her prose is awful. It's like
getting hit with a sledgehammer and not in a good way. She could
have written a book on any of my favorite things and I still would
have hated it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
-A Fire Upon the Deep by Vernor Vinge</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A pretty darn good sci-fi novel.
There's a lot to think about in this novel, mostly on the subject of
what a mind is and how information moves. There is some fun sci-fi
alienness, but that doesn't excite me much unless it's tied to an
idea. Here just about every alien has a different form of mind and
asks the question of what it means to have/be a mind. How does
technology form a part of our mind? Is a community a mind? Is a
mind a community? How do we get a detailed picture of the world with only the
very little information that our senses give us? Good stuff.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
-The Theory That Would Not Die by Sharon
Bertsch McGrayne</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I thought I needed a little
introduction to Bayes' theorem and this looked like a good way of
getting a taste without getting too technical. It's a good story of
how, where, and why the theorem works. I would have liked to see a
little more discussion of the strengths and weaknesses of the
competing frequentist view however. One thing that I was grateful
for was the appendix that shows (with actual numbers!) what is going
on with Bayes. Working (struggling mightily) through the problems
made me understand much better than I would have if it had just said:
Bayes=Good (the text comes close to being a hagiography). Still, I'm
not a committed Bayesian yet. I don't think it solves all the
world's problems, but I do think it is a useful tool.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
-The Moral Landscape by Sam Harris</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Have you heard of utilitarianism?
Yes. Then you don't need to read this book. A cogent defense of
utilitarianism, but nothing new and fails to solve the old problems (if you consider them problems). </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-6138178509802511512014-01-29T20:18:00.001-06:002014-01-29T20:19:40.963-06:00Unacceptable Consequences<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Question: After I frostbit my toes at
Arrowhead in 2007 how long did it take me to recover completely?</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It seems that some interesting stuff happened at
Arrowhead this year. It was a tough year and that brings out the
best and worst in people. Actually, it's one of the reasons I go. I
want to see myself at my best and at my worst. I want to learn what
I am capable of and where my limits are. Sometimes those limits are
physical, but more often they are mental. Failure to make good decisions
is a case of pushing yourself beyond your mental limits.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
First off I should point out that I
don't know all of the parties involved in the issues at Arrowhead
this year. I know a few of them. Nor was I there. I believe that some people made
mistakes and that they were just that, mistakes. It doesn't mean
that they are bad people. I don't think that they are “lacking in
character” or anything like that. At least they haven't given me
any reason to think so. If they are like anyone else at Arrowhead
then I am pretty sure that I like them. <a href="http://lonesomeluddite.blogspot.com/2010/12/yesterday-i-was-reading-blog-that.html">I have made some big mistakes at Arrowhead myself.</a> Those mistakes were my fault and I think that I have owned up to
them. I hope that others can do the same. Maybe not today, but
after some thought.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we enter races like the Arrowhead,
TransIowa, or Superior 100 we expect a little adventure. We expect
to come out of them with some crazy stories to tell. That's one of
the reasons we do it. In a sense we want to get ourselves in a
pickle and then get ourselves out again. We love to hear stories
about breaking a bone and still finishing a race. The thing is that
there are acceptable consequences and unacceptable ones.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some acceptable consequences are:</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
exhaustion</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
soreness</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
mild hallucinations</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
using snow as toilet paper</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
blisters</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
a few days of limping around</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
eating lots of junk food</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
wear & tear on equipment</div>
</li>
<li>bruises and scrapes<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li>accidents</li>
</ul>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We think that these things are okay and
we accept that they will happen. None of them (except accidents) are
particularly dangerous and we happily indulge in them.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some unacceptable consequences are:</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
frostbite</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
dehydration</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
bonking</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
sunburn</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
drinking your own (or someone
else's) urine</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
heat exhaustion</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
giardia</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
These things are unacceptable,
dangerous, and there is no good reason that anyone entering into any
of these races should have to deal with them. As one friend of a
friend put it: “De-hy-dration. You did that to yourself.”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In a shorter race, even a 100 mile
gravel ride or 50k run, many of these worries simply don't come up.
You can push yourself to the limit and vomit from the exertion.
That's okay. It's acceptable in those races. You can cut corners
(so to speak), skip aid stations, dump your water before the final
sprint, all that good stuff. You take a calculated risk.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Endurance races, races that take more
than say 8 hours or take place in extreme conditions are different.
You don't know what will happen. You must know yourself well, know
the conditions well, and know the course well. Corners simply can
not safely be cut. You are taking a calculated risk just by entering
the race.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Arrowhead is billed as one of the
coldest races in the world. Some say it is one of the toughest. I
can't speak to that. I haven't been to all the races in the world.
What I do know is that -30f is no joke. Things happen fast at those
temperatures. They go from bad to worse without much warning. The
first thing to be is prepared. Have plenty of food. Plenty of
water. Know that you can use all of your required gear, including
your sleeping bag and stove.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some people have said, “if you stop
at those temperatures you will die.” That is simply not true. If
you went through gear check you have all the tools necessary to
survive at those temperatures. When I got too tired to see straight
at Arrowhead in 2011 I pulled out my sleeping bag and pad and took a
nap at -40f. I was comfortable and it felt great. The same thing
goes for your stove. I have never had to melt water from snow during
Arrowhead, but I have done it in practice down to about -10f. It
takes a long time, it's true, and you should be in your sleeping bag
if it is especially cold out, but it can be done. Being prepared
means having the equipment, knowing how to use it, and just as
importantly being willing to use it. I said earlier on that making
mistakes is a case of beyond your mental limits. Being unwilling to
use your gear is being beyond your mental limits too.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you read the reasons that I didn't
go to Arrowhead this year you know that one reason, perhaps the key
reason, was that I didn't want to be in a hurry. It sounds silly: I
didn't want to go to a race because I didn't want to be in a hurry.
Isn't racing about being in a hurry? No. Endurance racing is the
tortoise and the hare. It is <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Festina_lente">festina lente</a></i>. It is making the right decisions. If you are in too much of a hurry
to do things right then you have failed.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the things you must be willing
to do is re-evaluate your situation. If you are too focused on
winning, on beating someone else, or even on finishing then you will
not be willing to re-evaluate. If I had gone this year I would have
had a 48 hour time limit <i>that I set for myself</i>. That might
have been very realistic for me to accomplish on skis in a good year, but cold snow
makes for slow skis. I had to rethink what was likely. The only skier to finish this year finished in
54 hours and change. I have no doubt that he is a good skier.
I also have no doubt that he had to re-evaluate his expectations. In the end 60
hours probably felt like a realistic goal and anything faster was
gravy.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well, I've gone on for too long here.
In brief what I want to say is: someone made a mistake and that
mistake led to unacceptable consequences. Once he put himself in
that position he had to get himself out and perhaps he did the right
thing then, in the short run, but the situation was totally avoidable and should not be celebrated.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh, and the answer to the question I
posed: I still haven't completely recovered, even after 7 years. </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-56948228883819755482014-01-25T02:01:00.002-06:002014-01-25T02:01:53.871-06:00Why I won't be at Arrowhead this year.<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I have been going to Arrowhead every
year since 2006. Since then I have finished four times, twice on
bike, once on skis, and once on foot; DNF'd 4 times, 3 times on skis,
and once on bike requiring a snowmachine rescue. Temperatures have
ranged from +35f to -40f and trail conditions from a virtual highway
to unbroken to bare earth or gravel in spots. I've seen pretty much
everything and have nothing to prove.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This race has been a big deal to me and
shaped my life entirely for the better (minus a couple of toenails).
I am much more mature, capable, and happier than I was at the age of
27. I can't say that Arrowhead was solely responsible, but it taught
me that I could do what I set out to do. It was the first thing I
had started, struggled with, and completed. Prior to that I was
easily discouraged and gave up at the first sign of trouble. I
really didn't try very hard at anything. Nothing really seemed worth
it or really mattered to me.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's silly that a race without any
tangible value could be the one thing that really mattered to me.
Perhaps it is because it was my own goal; no one else had any
interest in seeing me finish. One person actually told me that they
would support me in anything I did except stupid things like the
Arrowhead.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Biking the race told me that I could do
it. I went in without any real training and finished. An
accomplishment, but without meaning. Skiing though was what became
my white whale. My first attempt in 2008 earned me the Myrtle the
Turtle award for the last person to the halfway checkpoint. I
dropped out there, but that award, just making it halfway was a real
victory. The next year I resolved to actually train for the first
time in my life. I made it halfway without trouble, but didn't have
another 75 miles in me. 2009 with smarter training actually saw me
at the finish on skis. It wasn't fast, but it was and is the
greatest, most meaningful, accomplishment of my life. It sounds
crazy, but it is; maybe my life is empty like that.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I say this because the Arrowhead is the
reason that I am back in school. It is what showed me what work
really is. It convinced me that I have what it takes to graduate.
Of course plenty of people graduate without having to go through what
I have. I don't know if it is simply easier for them or if they
understood something that I didn't. Sometimes I think that the
Arrowhead is a remedial perseverance class. Some of us just need to
learn the hard way.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
School is something that I failed at.
I don't need to go back to get a job. I have one that I'm happy
with. I'm not going for anyone else, even though my graduation will
make some people very happy. Heck, I'm getting my degree in
Philosophy, what more useless degree could I be getting. I am going
back because it is something that I failed at and going back is a
victory. Every day that I go to class, every assignment that I turn
in is a victory. When I graduate it will be a victory. It will mean
as much as the Arrowhead. It already does.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Aside from the personal victories
everyone I know through the race is an inspiration to me. Everyone
who toes the line and gives it their all, no matter how far they go,
is someone I like and want to be around. Many of those people I only
see once a year and I won't see them this year.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That is why my decision not to go this
year is so tough. It is one of the three toughest decisions I have
ever made. I feel sick making this decision, but I know that either
way it went I would have felt sick. There just wasn't any perfect
way out. Sometimes there isn't.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I signed up for the Arrowhead last
year I knew that it was going to be a stretch to do both it and
school. I thought I would be able to miss three or four days of
class without a problem. It turns out though that I have a lot of
work to do. School is hard. I spend hours reading and writing every
night in addition to going to class and working 30 hours per week.
In particular, next week I have three short papers due, and an exam
on Thursday. I was going to have to hurry the race along in order to
get back in time for that exam. I know from hard experience that
hurrying is not something you should do at -30f. That is the time
for slow deliberate action. The race is 60 hours long and you have
to be willing to take 60 hours. Hurrying is why I dropped out last
year when I had a good shot at finishing. Hurrying is how I got
serious frostbite and had to be rescued.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Skipping three days of class and doing
a slap-dash job on a few papers and an exam won't cause me to fail
classes. That isn't the point. The point is that I can either do
both poorly or one well. If I could have done one well and one
poorly I would have chosen that.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well, that's a lot to try and say in
one blog post, especially a long overdue blog post. I will miss all
of you up in International Falls, at Melgeorges, SkiPulk, and Fortune
Bay. Some of you I will see at Trans Iowa, some in Duluth later this
year, some maybe not until next January, or not at all. I will miss
the trees, hills, flat swamps, and the cold. The Arrowhead chapter
of my life is not closed, but will have to wait another year.
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-90715306769412485092013-08-07T21:25:00.001-05:002013-08-07T21:25:53.741-05:00Swim the Bridge 5k<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A couple of weeks ago I swam my first
5k race. The race was <a href="http://swimthebridge.com/">Swim the Bridge</a> at Saylorville lake near
Granger. If you're familiar with that area you probably know the
“mile long” bridge. We swam under that. It's very dirty and
sort of smelly, but it's the biggest lake for 100 miles. It's what
we've got.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
People seem pretty impressed by a 5k
swim, but it didn't seem like that big of a deal to me. In high
school we used to swim 1200 yard warm-ups then do our workout then
another 1200 yard cool-down. I'm pretty sure we did well over 5k
every day. Sometimes more than once per day. I suppose all that
experience swimming came in handy. I'm very comfortable in the water
and know I can swim all day so there's no anxiety, even when I'm
(sort of) far from land.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I haven't done much open water swimming
though so that was new. In a pool you can stare at the black line at
the bottom and not have to look up and see where you are. It's very
easy. In open water, especially Iowa water, you can't even see your
hand in front of your face. In order to see where you are and where
you're going (and you have to, it's pretty much impossible to swim in
a straight line without constant correction) you have to break stride
(stroke?) and look up. It's even harder for me since, without my
glasses, I can't see very well. Several times I couldn't see the
next buoy and had to look for other swimmers in my vicinity to guess
what direction to go. It gets doubly hard when you're told to turn
at the first orange buoy and you're colorblind. Yeah, I couldn't
tell the difference between the orange, red, and green buoys. For
the most part it didn't matter, but once I did have to ask a saftey
boater which way to go.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Several races (1.2 mile, 2.4 mile and
5k) all started at once so there was a bit of a scrum from the
beginning. Lots of groping and getting groped going on. I didn't
mind much as, again, I'm comfortable in the water, but I can see how
it could be annoying. After the first 1.2 mile lap, when about half
the racers finished their race, things got settled out and I was
pretty much alone after that.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first lap I did front crawl, but
the second and third I did breaststroke. Breaststroke is much easier
for me both because I can see where I'm going and it was what I raced
from the ages of 8 to 16. I can swim breaststroke faster than a lot
of people can swim front crawl and very efficiently too.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Afterwards I talked to a few people I
knew and a few I didn't. A common sentiment was, “How could you
get back in and go out for that last lap?” That was a little
mystifying to me. Why wouldn't I? I signed up for 5k, I'm going to
swim 5k. I never thought I wouldn't be able to do it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anyway, it was pretty fun and I think
I'll do it again next year. </div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-70254720921296134482013-07-27T15:30:00.003-05:002013-07-27T15:30:18.589-05:00Midnight Madness 5k & 10k
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A couple of weeks ago I did the
Midnight Madness 5k and 10k races. For those of you who don't know
about them these road runs are a big deal here in Ames. I had
never done it for a number of reasons: I run that far several times a
week so why pay $30 to do it? I prefer to run alone most of the time
and this race has hundreds, if not thousands of people in it. The
big deal seems to be the party afterwards. I am not much of a
partier.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well, this year a few things came
together to convince me to do it. First off, a friend contacted me
asking me to do it, offered me a new pair of racing flats, and
guaranteed me a PR (I hadn't run a 5k race since high school and had
never run a 10k race). Then just a few minutes later I ran into the
race director (Captain Midnight) at a coffee shop (though his
persuasive speech focused more on the party and less on the run).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So on the day of I laced up my new
shoes for the first time, just minutes before the start. The race
started and for the first half I wasn't sure whether it was the 5k or
10k race (I had signed up for both). I really hoped it was the 5k
because I was going way too fast for a 10k. It was surprising just
how many people I knew both running and among the spectators. It
seemed like every 10 meters I was saying “hi” to someone. I
guess when you've been in town for 17 years and a visible part of the
athletic scene for 11 it shouldn't be a surprise. There were more
than a few “what are you doing here” moments. Luckily it was the
5k and I finished with a time of 20:47. I wasn't sure what to
expect, but it seemed okay. Faster than many, slower than some.
It's all relative.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had about half an hour to wait for
the start of the 10k so I walked around a bit and ran into yet more
folks I knew. One happened to tell me about the 5k Swim the Bridge
which I'll be racing tomorrow and others asked about the Arrowhead (I
was wearing the shirt). I knew I'd have to back off and run my own
pace in the 10k. In a 5k it seems like I can pretty much go all out,
but in a 10k you really have to let go of your ego and let people you
know are slower get ahead of you if that's what they want to do. So
I reined it in for the first 5k. In the second half I pushed to keep
the pace steady. A lot of those people who had passed me in the
first half started dropping back and walking. I was glad of my easy
first half. I thought I might end up with a negative split, but
that didn't happen, though it was close (I don't have my splits). My
finishing time was 47:43 which I thought was pretty good. The shoes
were great and didn't give me any problems though in such a short
race they really shouldn't.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Afterwards I got together with one of
my cousins who happened to spot me when I was running. We ended up
getting cake and ice cream with his girlfriend's family and missing
the after-party. That's more my speed anyway. Will I do it again
next year? I don't know. I had a good time and it is interesting to
try and run fast rather than try and run far. I can see how someone
could get into that. Maybe I'll see how fast I can do a marathon
next year. Still I'm more of an ultra-runner at heart.
</div>
Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25706603.post-16598248696330130372013-07-21T15:50:00.000-05:002013-07-21T15:50:13.199-05:00Books Read: June
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<u>Railsea</u>, China Mieville</div>
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More good stuff from Mieville. Again I
can see some folks not liking his stuff because of the suspension of
disbelief required and breaking of convention that he loves to use.
To me that makes it all better. Much of the time when a book builds
suspense and it looks like there's going to be a big reveal at the
end it just doesn't pan out. I as myself quite often with television
and book series, can they end this well? What sort of ending would
be satisfactory? More often than not I can't see any ending being up
to the task. Some authors embrace this, think of the ending to
Sopranos (which I haven't seen, but I know how it ends) some just
fail, think of any series by Orson Scott Card. Mieville actually
pulls it off. The end is sufficient to satisfy the buildup. That's
a rare book.
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<u>Teachings on Love</u>, Thich Nhat Hanh</div>
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I saw this at the library and picked it
up. Then I put it down. Then I picked it up again. I think you can
guess why: the title. It is not a very masculine title. It would be
easy to feel self-conscious about carrying this one around. Not only
am I reading a book about religion, but it has love in the title. I
can't speak for everyone, but I think that in the culture I was
raised in it is usually frowned upon for men to talk about love. I
remember after going to a funeral for a good friend's father my
friend told me, “When you get home tell your father that you love
him.” She was very serious and sincere, but I didn't do it. Why?
Because I was self-conscious about it. Well, the fact is I do love
my father and I shouldn't be afraid to say so. I love you dad!
There, I finally said it (well if writing counts) more than ten years
later.
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So, on to the book. This book is about
love and love is about communication and understanding.
Communication is the difficult part, at least for me (see above
paragraph). Actually the understanding part probably comes down to
communication too. After all how can we understand anything or
anyone if we aren't willing to talk about it. I've had a few
problems with this. With being self-conscious and unsure of myself.
Afraid that people won't like me if they don't know me. Of course
this is self defeating. If people don't know me they won't like me.
Or at least they won't like me for who I am. Hold on. Here I am
talking about love and using the word like. Is that fair? Man
there's a lot of social baggage on that word 'love'.
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<u>Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao</u>, Junot
Diaz</div>
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This was the 'It' book a few years ago.
All nerdly and literary. It got great reviews and I can see why,
but I didn't like it. Much of the praise for the book revolved
around it's use of nerd/geek references. Unfortunately, as I read
it, those references serve only to highlight the main character's
(Oscar's) immaturity and naiveté. Imagine that, geek references
used to put someone down. Oscar is described as a fat nerd and is constantly trying to "get some" with awkward Star Trek inspired pick-up lines. It's embarrassing and disappointing. If you want magical
realism read Marquez. If you want a Carribean story read Gaiman's
<u>Anansi Boys</u>. If you want geek culture read <u>Ready Player
One</u><span style="text-decoration: none;">. Maybe I didn't get this book. I'd be happy to be wrong about it. Feel free to tell me why this book is better than I thought. </span>
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<u>Knuckler</u>, Tim Wakefield</div>
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I can't say why exactly I picked this
one up. I had it written down as a book I was interested in, but I
can't for the life of me figure out why. It's a pretty strange book,
the first autobiography written in the third person that I've read.
I suppose that's a nod to the fact that Wakefield didn't write it. A
sportswriter did and it shows. It reads like a list of games scores
and statistics. We never get to know Wakefield. He gets married has
kids and devotes his free time to charities all with the vaguest of
references. It's not at all like Andre Agassi's autobiography Open.
That is a great book. Wakefield seems like a nice guy, a peacemaker,
a team player, but unless you are a rabid Red Sox fan don't bother
with this one.
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Matt Maxwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14992892551754581628noreply@blogger.com2