Well, guys, I got out of my first class an hour ago and it went really well. We didn't do a whole lot of content, just getting to know you stuff. But that is really important to me. One of the things I am excited about is the emphasis on community that I hope to bring to this class. I think that it will help them learn better if they see themselves as a community of readers, writers, and thinkers. So, hopefully they'll get into it. They seemed to be into it today. Thanks for all of your encouragement.
It means alot.
I also want to ask you guys for help. The second half of the quarter I am calling "Discipline and The Digital." We are reading "Panopticism" from Foucault's "Discipline and Punish," and for their major paper I want them to take a good hard look at online textual practices, specifically blogs, as a form of discipline. The reason behind this is that there are a lot of major implications, I think, behind the democratization of informations that blogging encourages. My attitude is that the free spread of information is both liberating but also disciplinary, another panoptic function.
SO - if any of you have read any good philosophical/sociological articles commenting on blogging and the information democracy, please point me toward them. I'm trying to compile a provisional bibliography that my students can use in their papers. Any help would be great.
OK, I'm going to get to work. I miss all of you.
I know I haven't posted in a long time. Sorry. Here's the scoop.
On Thursday, Sept. 16, I started 7 days of TA orientation at the UW. I walked into a classroom with about 40 other literary people of one degree or another -- MFAs, PhD students, and regular old not-quite MA's like myself. The first two days of this event were, I think, fairly typical: people spent a lot of time using big words and dropping as many names as they could to try to prove to everyone else in the room that, yes, they were badass. Fortunately, this wore off, and we realized that we were pretty much (with a few exceptions) all-too human: excited, nervous, and fairly overwhelmed by the prospect of having a classroom all to ourselves. I got to meet some cool people; by Friday night, I was defending the virtue of cultural studies over a beer with a medievalist from San Francisco. Overall, it was a good week.
Everything hits the fan tomorrow. My class is at 930 in the morning. As far as schedule, assignments, where we are going, etc, I feel pretty prepared. But what are these students going to think of me? Will we get along; will it be a good experience for all concerned? Most importantly, will they learn how to write? I hope so. We'll see.
Being here is good. Capria and I are both transitioning; so weird things come out of nowhere sometimes. But good things. She is still looking for a job, so if you think about it you could pray that she would find something soon. In the meantime, she's just started collecting unemployment from Tennessee again, which is nice.
I realize that my previous post on the Liberal/Conservative split ended on a really weak note; sorry about that. I'll try to get something more concrete out in the future.
I'm going to go now.
A number of people have asked about this, so here it is:
206.547.1884.
Please, call us. We would love to get calls and we don't have a long distance plan yet.
I've got to go get some work done . . .
There is no easier way for me to get good and depressed then to go peruse the "New Non-Fiction" section of a popular bookstore. Perhaps some of you have done this recently. Invariably, there will be two major themes running through the shelves, characterized by books with subtitles like "How to Save Our Glorious American Heritage from the Weeny-Ass, Anti-Family, Terrorist-Loving, so-called-'intellectual' Left" or "What You can do to Stop the Color-Hating, Baby-Killing, Tree-Cutting Onslaught of the Knuckle-dragging Right (aka 'The Bitches of Big Business')." You know what I'm talking about. I find it really disturbing.
Some people see this as the "healthy exchange of ideas" brought about by a national belief in free speech. I will grant that it is one of the messy results of free speech. But this is not the healthy exchange of ideas. In fact, I think you would be pressed to find any exchange other than that of ideologically charged rhetoric. Essentially, it is a shouting match with more and more authors joining the fray.
It's made me think a lot about the two poles of political discourse in our country and elsewhere. ["Pole" being a relative concept. The founder of the Aryan Nation, America's homegrown version of neo-Nazism, died recently. He was in no way an example of conservatism. In the same way (although they are rarer and rarer, and for a good reason) the odd self-proclaimed communist is no longer a representative of the left. I'm not interested in talking about the "true" extremes at this point.] I think there is a weird paradox at work in both conservatism and liberalism that we need to recognize in order to understand the mudslinging.
The paradox is this: I think that, in their most representative avatars, conservatism and liberalism have a tremendous amount in common; specifically, they share the same goals. At the same time, the two views also contain irreconcilable differences, in that they do not share the same values/beliefs.
Let me offer an example of this. Both conservatives and liberals would agree that good healthcare is a worthwhile goal. I think you could get Rush Limbaugh, even at his most belligerent, to say that society AND individuals all benefit from a good healthcare. In this situation, the two views are in agreement -- they go off and have a beer in perfect harmony.
However (and I am using GROSS generalizations here for the sake of argument), their values create major problems. For the conservative would claim that the market is the best, most equitable way to distribute health care. It is the most efficient (a central conservative value, "efficiency"), since it can adjust and meet the needs of the consumer with the speed of the market. Moreover, it is fueled by profit, which is one of the best motivators for naturally selfish people. Health care providers will thus give top-notch care because they have a vested interest in making their patients healthy.
Not so, says the liberal. While the profit motive may be effective, leaving health care to the market is opening the door for exploitation. Health care will then be directly related to what a person can afford; consequently, the best health care will only be provided to the wealthy. The very profit motive that you claim will protect consumers will only protect a few; for as the desire for more profit pushes prices up, those who cannot afford will have to be content with the "bottom of the barrel" and will be preyed upon by those who know that they have no where else to go. In order to ensure that everyone receives good care, we must have a socially funded, centralized health care system.
Clearly, their values and beliefs are incompatible. It's easy to say "well, one is right and the other is obviously wrong; they just need more data." I cannot make that statement. For I have seen equally compelling evidence coupled with equally compelling interpretations from both positions on this and other issues.
I'll write more about this later. It's an interesting situation, to say the least.
Last night I finished Thomas Mann’s short story/novella “Death in Venice.” I found this to be a remarkable piece of literature. It has a very tight and appealing formal structure (reminiscent of Flaubert) and a unique blend of psychological narrative, aesthetic reflection, and social commentary. For contemporary readers, the (translated, unless you can read German) prose may be a little laborious, but it’s worth the struggle.
One very interesting element of the text is the amount of interpretation it is able to sustain. (Keep in mind that these comments of mine are not coming from extensive research, simply a reading of the text and some reflection upon it). For instance, one can read it as a story about art. One can read it as a commentary on life/death. One can read it as an apocalyptic critique of Western society and culture (in the vein of TS Eliot’s “The Waste Land” or Ezra Pound’s “Hugh Selwyn Mauberley”). One can read it as a treatise on forbidden (predatory?) love. One can read it ways I have not mentioned and as all of these things simultaneously.
I am particularly fascinated with its connecting forbidden desire with Western culture. Gustave, the old and renowned writer upon whom the story centers, falls for a young, god-like child name Tadzio. By “young” and “child” I mean exactly that – I think the story identifies him as being around 14. Tadzio is quickly given the role of Gustave’s muse; he is presented as an aesthetic object whose beauty inspires the artist to make more art. This has a clear precedent: Renaissance sonneteers always were writing about some beauty somewhere (male or female, as in Shakespeare’s sequence), and critics have spent a lot of time analyzing the objectification that occurs in this type of relationship. But “D. in V.” disrupts this idealized process, since Gustave cannot stop with Tadzio merely being an inspiring presence. He becomes obsessed with this child, essentially begins to stalk him, and realizes that his behavior has become deviant.
Even in his deviance, Gustave relates it back to the beginnings of Western culture, citing Socrates comments on the lover and the beloved in the “Phaedrus.” And this is where the story really becomes, I think, brilliant. For what is our cultural heritage? What does its history look like? Is it really a story of pedophilia, of “beauty” turning to “desire” turning to “lust”? What is the difference between “high art” and the pornographic?
Perhaps I am offering a fairly radical interpretation here, but it’s really an intense 60 some pages. There are a lot of connections that would be interesting to follow through. Obviously, Freudian Sublimination -- see the story of Apollo and Daphne. Also, I think Nabokov’s Lolita would be a great comparative read.
Have any of you read this story? What do you think about it? And do you think the themes I’ve talked about have any relationship to Andy Montgomery’s obsession with the Totten brothers?
This is a post about today.
About measles shots. The UW requires that I have a certain verifiable immunity against measles. Consequently, I had to go to the health clinic and get a booster. Which got me thinking about health care in general and health care facilities in particular.
I sincerely respect all of those in the health care profession. They do tremendous and valuable work. But doctors' offices scare me. They have a powerful effect upon my psyche. They provoke profound, hypochondriac introspection.
I may walk into a health center feeling like I am the definition of vibrancy. I may see my reflection in a window and, upon observing my chiseled and disease-free features, think "my, aren't I a fine specimen of youthful vigor! I bet Bill Clinton wishes he could be me!" I may be convinced that I, in fact, will never die.
As soon as I sit down in a waiting room, all of this changes.
I can feel my temperature rising. The virus which invaded my body unbeknownst to me 10 days ago has chosen this very moment to manifest its symptoms. I am sure of it. What else could explain my sudden shortness of breath? I try to convince myself that it's just nerves, but no, I cannot calm myself down. Truly, something is wrong. My heart beat becomes very loud and very tentative. I can hear it and, then, I hear it stop. That's it; I'm going into cardiac arrest. I knew this was going to happen. Oh, wait, there it goes again. And that strange pain in my abdomen: stomach cancer. Definitely stomach cancer. All along I thought it was going to be lung cancer. Why is this happening to me? What did I do?
And then the nurse calls my name. "Any food allergies?" "Any medications?" "Any shots in the last 30 days?" Stick in the arm and I'm back outside and its really quite a beautiful day in Seattle.
In other news:
I am not very computer savvy, so it's going to take me some time to get used to the technical aspects of all of this. So if links, etc. don't work quite right, please be patient.
I've been reading a lot and Capria's been looking for a job. We had our phone turned on but they still haven't hooked it up. I'll get everyone the number at some point.
That's about all I have to say, right now.
And, obviously, this will also be a place where I get to inflict you with ridiculously pretentious writing.
Who knows? Some of you may like the stuff I wrote in the last post. If so, feel free to leave a comment saying how much you liked it and encouraging me to keep it up, along with a link you your own equally high-falutin' blog. Honestly, I would love it.
Then again, (and this is more likely), most of you probably don't go in for the strange abstractions penned by fans of continental philosophy. In which case, you are probably here because you are my dear friend, interested in my well-being and fond of my company. If so, please leave me a comment based upon your recent activities and interests, along with a link to pictures from your last barbeque. I would love that as well.
For the first reader: don't worry, more theoretical fragments are on the way. And for the second reader: don't worry, I will also be posting excerpts from my and Capria's everyday life. Here are a few such excerpts:
Currently, we are living on 4244 8th Ave. NE in Seattle, WA, apt. #7. It's a nice place, a bit small, and our neighbor has a penchant for playing bad pop music at very loud, bass-emphasizing volumes. We are blocks from the University, various coffee shops, pubs, used book dealers, and not one but TWO comic book stores. It's very cool.
I start TA orientation with the English Dept. in three days. I'm looking forward to it. Click here and see my very first office number. Scary and Cool.
We went to a church last night that we are considering calling home. First impressions have been good, but let us know what you think. It's called Mars Hill Church, and you can check out the website.
SO. . . please stay posted. This blog will be touch and go for a while since I don't have a home computer, but I will try to keep it updated. We miss all of our friends all over the country.
This is initial contact. If you are reading this, you have entered the space of my blog. And by entering, you are connected to me . . . somehow. How real is this link? We are together and yet unavoidably separate at the same time. By definition, any communication is the result of a relationship between a sender and a receiver, a speaker and a listener. Consequently, you and I are connected. I find this exciting.
I also find myself overanalyzing this thing (for lack of a better term; by "thing" I am referring to this blog, you, I, and the innumerable connections whose existence I only briefly touched upon in the previous paragraph) to its inevitable demise, its implosion. To reference Milan Kundera, perhaps life is the continual process of balancing lightness and weight. If I place too much weight on our interaction, it will collapse. Simultaneously, not enough weight and it will blow away.
I see a correlation between this lightness/weight duality (symbiosis?) and my recent relocation to Seattle. What, precisely, am I doing here? Do I endow my present situation with too much significance, or not enough? Is this life the one I was made for, or is it simply a simulacral experiment, a surreal dream I have thrown myself into that will soon spit me back out into the "real" world with an equal vehemence?
For that matter, who am I? Relocating geographically highlights the processes of identity in painful colors. I see that who I think I am is very much a result of numerous forces, communities, economic transactions, theoretical abstractions that, for whatever reason, happen to captivate my attention at a particular time. This is to say, I am seeing clearly that we are always in the constant process of negotiating and recreating who we are. This, I sincerely believe, is the famed human condition.
So it is to this process of identification, the continual pursuit of orientation and reorientation, the in-between that, consciously or unconsciously, we all occupy, it is, essentially, to the very self, that I dedicated this blog. My hope is that as I relate to you (singular and plural) my formation as a human being, and you confront me with your own formation, we can grow together; we can commune with each other. We can find the way together. I hope that this is a place where we can live.