Winding Words

To Be and Not To Be (Paper)

2010-01-12T14:09:00.005-05:00

I finished that paper. Here it is:

Joshua Sleutel
LIB 380 – Dialectics
Final Paper
21 December 2009

To Be and Not To Be

Ποταμοῖς τοῖς αὐτοῖς ἐμβαίνομέν τε καὶ οὐκ ἐμβαίνομεν, εἶμέν τε καὶ οὐκ εἶμεν.
We both step and do not step in the same rivers. We are and are not.
-Heraclitus

Identity is plagued by the passage of time. Just when we think we’ve got things – the self, the other – figured out, the next moment sweeps us away into difference. Imagining the passage of time as the flow of a river, Heraclitus famously said that you couldn’t step in the same river twice. It’s always moving, nothing is the same as it was the moment before. A student, one who really got it, replied that you couldn’t even step in the same river once. This assertion has profound implications for the ways we think about ourselves, and how we come to terms with the socially constructed aspects of our identity.

This paper will explore a word that seems to embody this very problem in its polysemy: queer. Queer began as a derogatory term, transitioning from the simple sense as “weird,” to appeal to the normativity and homophobia of Western culture in denigrating gays. Later, it was adopted as a term of pride for all those wierdos who defy this normativity, and an academic discourse emerged around the term that both seeks to validate these transgressive practices/identities, and contests the static nature of gender and sexuality. Somewhere in the mix, the term came to be a convenient umbrella under which minority gender and sexual identities could neatly fit, defying the discourse that helped cement it as such a catchall. In the spirit of dialectics, I’ll analyze how these two meanings – umbrella term, and theoretical outlook – relate to one another, and address the problem of what it means to be queer and Queer, that is, for me, to both claim a gay, masculine identity, and one as a Queer theorist[1].

Queer Theory and the Problem of Anarchy
In a way, this dialectical relationship is a lot like the dialectic one finds in Marxism between the ideal of progressing toward a weak state, rife with democracy, and the present need for governance. Conveniently, one thinker, named Jamie Heckert, does a very tidy job of describing the correlation between queer theory and anarchy in her dissertation Resisting Orientation: On the Complexities of Desire and the Limits of Identity Politics (2005). In the third chapter, “Anarchism, Poststructuralism and the Politics of Sexuality: 'Sexual Orientation' as State-Form,” Heckert uses anarchy theory to discuss the Queer politics, and problemitizes the queer identities behind “the movement” toward LGBT equality. She associates these identity structures with the governing structures of a state, and draws on Bakunin, an intellectual sparring partner of Marx, to make some of her argument. Discussing the emergence of the categorical ideas of sexual orientations, Heckert writes:

Heterosexuality developed as a new state-form, one in which a variety of practices were compressed into a single psychiatric category. Homosexuality and bisexuality have been constructed as variations on a theme. Sexual orientation can be understood as a set of state-forms in that a wide variety of practices (including sexual, romantic and gendered) are defined and judged in terms of their capacity to be categorised within, or association with, one of three boxes. (p. 75)

She goes on to suggest that Queer theory, as a type of anarchism, provides a possible answer to these problems. Just as Bakunin advocates for abandoning the oppressive structure of the State, Heckert hopes that stepping away from concrete identities altogether is more progressive than opting for one of the few Other orientations. Rather than be limited by the boundaries of an orientation, a Queer outlook frees one from the state-like structures of sexual orientation (and gender, by extension).

This debate between Marx and Bakunin, that is, the contention between Anarchism and Marxism, has its roots deep in the substructures of their philosophies. According to Ann Robertson (2006), Bakunin held a “fixed, natural human essence,” where Marx saw a contrast between humanity’s animalistic past and its modern condition. In a Marxist view, humanity has created and recreated structures of production to satisfy their basic needs, each recreation marking a step away from our animal past. In contrast, following what he perceived as “natural” (read: “good”), Bakunin advocated for accelerating toward anarchism as a means of returning to humanity’s natural state. Marx, finding no justice in natural law, saw an active state as the best next-step. For to him, there were stark and necessary differences to be drawn between the natural order of things, and that of humans.

In conjunction, according to Robertson, Marx’s concept of history leads him to his fidelity to the State. He saw a strict division between natural history and human history: at a point in natural history, humanity differentiated itself from the perpetual struggle to satisfy its basic needs, and endeavored to create a new narrative of mutual harmony, rather than the previous one of “survival of the fittest.”

Finally, Robertson writes, Marx and Bakunin had different concepts of freedom. Where Marx found freedom to be acting in accordance with rationality and collective consciousness, Bakunin’s freedom is one’s freedom to follow her own spontaneous impulses. Marx, as quoted by Robertson, retorts:

Precisely the slavery of civil society is in appearance the greatest freedom because it is in appearance the fully developed independence of the individual, who considers as his own freedom the uncurbed movement, no longer bound by a common bond or by man, of the estranged elements of his life, such as property, industry, religion, etc., whereas actually this is his fully developed slavery and inhumanity.

Marx’s freedom had more to do with the freedom to exist within the structures that fostered human community.

Returning to the question of queerness, then, the correlations may be obvious. The tension between having one of the many queer identities and forsaking these for a Queer outlook is analogous to that between Marxism and Anarchism. Politically, both push for a similar goal in the long term, advocating for equality and mutual subjectivity with heterosexuality. But, based on foundational substructures, their practical applications are quite divergent. Their contentions fall on similar themes to those that differentiated anarchism and Marxism, characterized most directly by the questions of progress and individualism.

Throughout the course of this semester, I’ve wrestled with the idea of progress. Shortsightedly, I assumed that because I did not read progress into my experience, progress was somewhat of a farce. Despite looking at trans-historical narratives, somehow I remained averse to the notion that humanity had progressed up to the present, let alone that it would progress toward something better some-when in the future. But reading Marx in this way, I’ve found that I can value the trans-historical accomplishments of humanity as progress in the mere ability to think abstractly in the advent of language, or to make music instead of forever toiling to feed and shelter oneself.

Similarly, as regards freedom, it is easy to interpret society as an agreement between individuals to maximize their happiness or wellbeing. The capitalist narrative tells us that people come together to build a community and establish laws for their own benefit, ensuring that their individual rights are not imfringed upon. I find such value, though, in the expression of community that genuinely concerns the individual with the collective. Democracy, therefore, is not a goal to be sought so that my voice can be heard, but a system that seeks to provide governing power to all people equally. My freedom is not to act alone, but is found in the submission to a rational and collectivist ideal of interdependence, for progress can be better made together than individually.

So, while the ideal of the Queer provides a critical framework for the structures of gender and desire and their queer identities, and recognizes the fluidity of these identities, a politic that only acknowledges Queer theory (at the expense of queer identities) neglects the historical progress of LGBT politics. Bakunin advocated heavily for the quick dissolution of the state to a form of anarchy, but Marx recognized the historical context in which we find ourselves. Capitalism, according to Marx, could only be followed by socialism/communism. To progress too quickly could prove the whole endeavor of escaping capitalism to be futile, at best; and disastrous at worst.

Similarly, today, we observe a similar astuteness in the Marxist leadership of China. As Mahoney (2008) points out, China’s expressed goal is a concept of a utopian harmony they call Datong, or “Great Unity.” This is an almost utopian ideal of absolute and perfected cooperation. The country does not expect to arrive at this unity overnight, however, and in the meantime, has a policy of what is called Xiaokang, or “Small Tranquility.” Xiaokang’s goals are much more modest than the long-term hope of Datong, maintaining the employment of markets and feudalistic economic structures. The country recognizes the hegemony of global Capitalism and vestigial class system domestically, and, en route to the ideal, compromises to form a system that can work.

Applying these principles to the queer/Queer tension, the similarities begin to become clear. Just as China has a residual class system, and pervasive nepotism, the sexual political climate at present is markedly heterosexist. A Queer politic, like communism, offers an ideal, one toward which we can progress long term. In the meantime, however, the structures of gender and sexual orientation provide concrete platforms from which to counteract the oppression of heterosexism; to seek liberation from the structures of LGBT identities seems naïve to the pervasiveness of the overt oppression of queer people.

Like his idea about historical progress, Marx’s conception of freedom has implications beyond just Marxism. Many people I’ve talked to say that although they have a Queer theoretical outlook, their identity is primarily gay (or lesbian, or bisexual, or transgender, etc.). People outside the box of heteronormativity simply find relating to one another easier when a common identity can be expressed. A Queer identity is, in a way, quite isolating, and highly individualistic. It asserts everyone’s individual gender and sexuality are unique and complex, amassing highly divergent individuals into a world where the only similarity one can expect is that everyone’s unique. Conversely, by claiming concrete gender and sexuality, one asserts aspects of identity in a way that is comprehensible and relatable. In a way, LGBT identities are the parole of the Queer system of disjointed signifiers and signifieds. queer identities provide a vocabulary for the abstract and fluid idea-world behind a critical Queer perspective.

Moreover, it is no coincidence that much of Queer theorizing takes place in the global West. Collectivist cultures often find much more meaning in the expression of common identities. As Denis Altman (1997) puts it, “American ‘queer theory’ remains as relentlessly Atlantic-centric in its view of the world as the mainstream culture it critiques (p. 419).” In operating within the consumer-capitalist structure, Queer theory has the potential to neglect the diverse methods of meaning-making that can be found outside the hegemony of the global West.

The Politic of Integration
So far, I have discussed the tension between queer and Queer in light of a pivotal conjunction: “or.” In “To(o) Queer or Not? Queer Theory, Lesbian community, and the Functions of Sexual Identities” Dana Shugar (1999) engages with the perpetual contention between lesbian activists and Queer ones. She writes:

Depending upon each scholar’s position within the discourse, queer theory is cast as either the savior of lesbian sexuality because of its ability to endlessly expand the definitions of what it means to be a sexual lesbian...or, for similar reasons, as the demise of lesbians and lesbianism altogether… (p. 16)

A dialectical analysis, on the other hand, would seek to synthesize the contradiction into something new. Joshua Gamson’s article (1995) “Must Identity Movements Self Destruct?” addresses this very tension in terms of social movement theory. He uses a different conjunction, however.

The challenge for analysts… is not to determine which position is accurate, but to cope with the fact that both logics make sense. Queerness spotlights a dilemma shared by other identity movements (racial, ethnic, and gender movements, for example): Fixed identity categories are both the basis for oppression and the basis for political power. (p. 391, emphasis mine)

Gamson here astutely notes the contradictory nature of queer identities, but allows this tension to abide. In his perspective, Queerness adds another dimension to sexual identity, rather than obliterating it. Gamson does a good job of engaging with the political practicality of both queers.

He also observes, “the destabilization of collective identity is itself a goal and accomplishment of collective action (p. 403),” even while, earlier in the article, he notes that it has been theorized that one goal of identity movements is the formation and maintenance of these identities. The important thing to remember about this is that both of these interpretations are invaluable in making sense of desire.

In addition, the tension between queers is one analogous to the tension between the individual and the universal. Lacking in a Queer theoretical perspective leaves one at the mercy of gender- and orientation-based normatively: the self overwhelmed by the other. On the other hand, without a communicable identity, community can be hard to come by, and political efficacy is reduced. This could be thought of as the individual usurping the universal. Both approaches, although they contradict one another, must be held simultaneously, in spite of the tension between them. That is to say, if one allows either to supersede the other, or to refute the other, he runs the risk of having an incomplete relationship with his gender and desire, as well as himself and his Others.

Correlative Conclusion

In Carl Jung’s introduction to the Yi Jing (1967) provides some culminating insight into this tension. In it, he expounds upon what he calls synchronicity, which he posits as a way of conceiving the world that is an alternative to linear, causative logic. As an exercise in practicing the synchronicity, Jung “asks” the Yi Jing about the outcome of his writing the introduction, and interprets the answers he receives from dropping coins and following the corresponding oracles in the Yi Jing. He explains how the fortunes to which he is led by the coins are relevant to his situation, but not from a causative, liner logic perspective. Instead, his fortune is meaningful from the perspective of synchronicity. The milieu of events surrounding his dropping the coins did not cause the outcomes he observed, he suggests, but rather all were present and to be considered in the interpretation of the fortune: most critically, the self that he brings to the endeavor. Furthermore, as he points out, any further attempts to seek a fortune for the same question would be different in that they follow the initial dropping of coins. It is not that the nature of the universe caused the coins to fall as they did, but rather that the circumstances surrounding the dropping of coins, including the self, his concept of the other, what he had for lunch, and about what one is seeking insight, all contribute to the meaningfulness of the moment of dropping the coins and receiving the fortune.

On the one hand, Queer theory tells us that gender and thus sexual orientation are socially constructed, and fundamentally arbitrary. The structures of gender are just that: structures. Following the post-structuralist shift in thought, we can put gender in its place among other systems that we construct, such as capitalism, the fashion world, or how we communicate recipes. Each of these follows conventions that have been creatively negotiated between members of a community, within the constraints of their material situation. A recipe’s system of measurements, its literary structure, and the combinations of flavors described within – all of these are fundamentally arbitrary. But, because the measurements are in the context of a community of cooks with a common system of measurements, for example, the arbitrary cups and teaspoons are meaningful, and contribute greatly to the outcome of the dish. Jung, in his introduction notes of his interpretations of the Yi Jing that, “Anyone of sound mind can turn the whole thing around and show how I have projected my subjective contents into the symbolism of the hexagrams.” But this is precisely the point: that the meaning that we collectively construct, and the character of the participants and aspects surrounding these seemingly random structures turns the chance emergence of such structures – a measurement system, the outcome of a coin-toss, or a system of rationalizing gender and desire – into an important and intensely significant method of existence.

So, the question of how to be both queer and Queer takes one down a highly dialectical path. The debate between Marx and Bakunin concerning anarchy provides a good look into the tension between these two systems that seek similar goals. A Marxist idea of human progress, both as a step away from the primitivism of the animal kingdom, and as an idea requiring a politic prudent to the historical situation in which we find ourselves, defines his affinity with the state, and paints the presence of concrete gender/sexual identities as necessary given our place in time. Still, Bakunin’s affinity with the ideal of anarchy can be admired and applied to Queer theory, which positions Queer theory as a notion of a long-term goal or an essential way to perceive gender and sexuality. We’ve seen a real example of the personal as the political, and the political as the personal in that the absolutely local (locus, even, i.e. identity) becomes the basis for both political oppression and efficacy. At the same time, though, the two queers inform one another, so much so that a perspective lacking in either causes one to lack a completeness of critical understanding of gender and desire. In other words, a chord must be struck between the stark and definite note at which the individual identity vibrates, and the harmonic of Queer theory, which provides a more esoteric, and universal truth about gender and desire. Finally, reconciliation between the two can be found in correlative thinking, and Jung’s synchronicity. Queer theory tells us that the structures of gender and desire are constructed, fluid, and transient, while this perspective only exists because of the concrete identities with which we approach these structures. And now to step forward, in the context of the flowing of time, exploring further the complexities – and contradictions – of the Queer State we find ourselves in.

References

Altman, D. (1997). Global Gaze/global gays. GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian & Gay Studies, 3(4), 417. Retrieved from http://ezproxy.gvsu.edu/login?url=http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=qth&AN=9985863&site=ehost-live&scope=site

Gamson, J. (1995). Must identity movements self-destruct? A queer dilemma. Social Problems, 42(3), 390-407. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/3096854

Heckert, J. (2005). Resisting orientation: On the complexities of desire and the limits of identity politics. Unpublished PhD, University of Edinburgh,

Jung, C. G. (1967). Foreward. Yi Jing or Book of Changes (Richard Wilhelm, Cary F. Baynes Trans.). (pp. xxi-xxxix). New York: Penguin Books.

Mahoney, J. G. (2008). On the way to harmony: Marxism, confucianism, and Hu Jintao's Hexie concept. In S. Guo, & B. Guo (Eds.), China in search of a harmonious society (pp. 99-128). Lanham, MD: Lexington Books.

Robertson, A. (2006). Marxism and anarchism: The philosophical roots of the Marx-Bakunin conflict – part one. Retrieved 21 December, 2009, from http://www.marxist.com/marxism-anarchism-marx-bakunin-conflict090606.htm

Shugar, D. (1999). To(o) queer or not? queer theory, lesbian community, and the functions of sexual identities. Journal of Lesbian Studies, 3(3), 11.

[1] I’ll use ‘queer’ to denote the umbrella term sense, and ‘Queer’ to denote the academic theoretical framework, in full awareness of the hierarchy that this imposes.

To Be and Not To Be

2009-12-27T10:15:00.005-05:00

This paper I wrote is really good, I think. Some weak points, but it'll be polished a bit and put in my portfolio, I think.

To Be and Not To Be

Queer Theory and the Problem of Anarchy

In a way, this dialectical relationship is a lot like the dialectic one finds in Marxism between the ideal of progressing toward a weak state, rife with democracy, and the present need for governance. Conveniently, one thinker, named Jamie Heckert, does a very tidy job of describing the correlation between queer theory and anarchy in her thesis Resisting Orientation: On the Complexities of Desire and the Limits of Identity Politics (2005). In the third chapter, “Anarchism, Poststructuralism and the Politics of Sexuality: 'Sexual Orientation' as State-Form,” Heckert uses anarchy theory to discuss the Queer politics, and problemitizes the queer identities behind “the movement” toward LGBT equality. She associates these identity structures with the governing structures of a state, and draws on Bakunin, an intellectual sparring partner of Marx, to make some of her argument. Discussing the emergence of the categorical ideas of sexual orientations, Heckert writes:

Marx’s freedom had more to do with the freedom to exist within the structures that fostered human community.

Returning to the question of queerness, the correlations may be obvious. The tension between having one of the many queer identities and forsaking these for a Queer outlook is analogous to that between Marxism and Anarchism. Politically, both push for a similar goal in the long term, advocating for equality and mutual subjectivity with heterosexuality. But, based on foundational substructures, their practical applications are quite divergent. Their contentions fall on similar themes to those that differentiated anarchism and Marxism, characterized most directly by the questions of progress and individualism.

Throughout the course of this semester, I’ve wrestled with the idea of progress. Shortsightedly, I assumed that because I did not read progress into my experience, progress was somewhat of a farce. Despite looking at trans-historical narratives, somehow I remained averse to the notion that humanity had progressed up to the present, let alone that it would progress toward something better somewhen in the future. But reading Marx in this way, I’ve found that I can value the trans-historical accomplishments of humanity as progress, the mere ability to think abstractly in the advent of language, or to make music instead of forever toiling to feed and shelter oneself as obvious examples.

Similarly, as regards freedom, it is easy to interpret society as an agreement between individuals to maximize their happiness or wellbeing. The capitalist narrative tells us that people come together to build a community and establish laws for their own benefit, ensuring that their rights are not impinged upon. I find such value, though, in the expression of community that genuinely concerns the individual with the collective. Democracy, therefore, is not a goal to be sought so that my voice can be heard, but a system that seeks to provide governing power to all people equally. My freedom is not to act alone, but is found in the submission to a rational and collectivist ideal of interdependence, for progress can be better made together than individually.

Similarly, today, we observe a similar astuteness in the Marxist leadership of China. As Mahoney (2008) points out, China’s express goal is a concept of a utopian harmony they call Datong, or “Great Unity.” This is an almost utopian ideal of absolute and perfected cooperation. The country does not expect to arrive at this unity overnight, however, and in the meantime, has a policy of what is called Xiaokang, or “Small Tranquility.” Xiaokang’s goals are much more modest than the long-term hope of Datong, maintaining the employment of markets and feudalistic economic structures. The country recognizes the hegemony of global Capitalism and vestigial class system domestically, and, en route to the ideal, compromises to form a system that can work.

Like his idea about historical progress, Marx’s conception of freedom has implications beyond just Marxism. Many people I’ve talked to say that although they have a Queer theoretical outlook, their identity is primarily gay (or lesbian, or bisexual, or transgender, etc.) People outside the box of heteronormativity simply find relating to one another easier when a common identity can be expressed. A Queer identity is, in a way, quite isolating, and highly individualistic. It asserts everyone’s individual gender and sexuality are unique and complex, amassing highly divergent individuals into a world where the only similarity one can expect is that everyone’s unique. Conversely, by claiming concrete gender and sexuality, one asserts aspects of identity in a way that is comprehensible and relatable. In a way, LGBT identities are the parole of the Queer Langue, providing a vocabulary for the abstract and fluid idea-world behind a critical Queer perspective.

The Politic of Integration

So far, I have discussed the tension between queer and Queer in light of a pivotal conjunction: “or.” In “To(o) Queer or Not? Queer Theory, Lesbian community, and the Functions of Sexual Identities” Dana Shugar (1999) engages with the perpetual contention between lesbian activists and Queer ones. She writes:

Correlative Conclusion

In Carl Jung’s introduction to the Yi Jing (1967) provides some culminating insight into this tension. In it, he expounds upon what he calls synchronicity, which he posits as a way of conceiving the world that is an alternative to linear, causative logic. As an exercise in practicing the synchronicity, Jung “asks” the Yi Jing about the outcome of his writing the introduction, and interprets the answers he receives from dropping coins and following the corresponding oracles in the Yi Jing. He explains how the fortunes to which he is led by the coins are relevant to his situation, but not from a causative, liner logic perspective. Instead, his fortune is meaningful from the perspective of synchronicity. The milieu of events surrounding his dropping the coins did not cause the outcomes he observed, he suggests, but rather all were present and to be considered in the interpretation of the fortune: most critically, the self that he brings to the endeavor. Furthermore, as he points out, any further attempts to seek a fortune for the same question would be different in that they follow the initial dropping of coins. It is not that the nature of the universe caused the coins to fall as they did, but rather that the circumstances surrounding the dropping of coins, including the self, his concept of the other, what he had for lunch, and about what one is seeking insight.

So, the question of how to be both queer and Queer takes one down a highly dialectical path. The debate between Marx and Bakunin concerning anarchy provides a good look into the tension between these two systems that seek similar goals. A Marxist idea of human progress, both as a step away from the primitivism of the animal kingdom, and as an idea requiring a politic prudent to the historical situation in which we find ourselves, defines his affinity with the state, and paints the presence of concrete gender/sexual identities as necessary given our place in time. Still, Bakunin’s affinity with the ideal of anarchy can be admired and applied to Queer theory, which positions Queer theory as a notion of a long-term goal or an essential way to perceive gender and sexuality. We’ve seen a real example of the personal as the political, and the political as the personal in that the absolutely local (locus, even, i.e. identity) becomes the basis for both political oppression and efficacy. At the same time, though, the two queers inform one another, so much so that a perspective lacking in either causes one to lack a completeness of critical understanding of gender and desire. In other words, a chord must be struck between the stark and definite note at which the individual identity vibrates, and the harmonic of Queer theory, which provides a more esoteric, and universal truth about gender and desire. Finally, reconciliation between the two can be found in correlative thinking, and Jung’s synchronicity. Queer theory tells us that the structures of gender and desire are constructed, fluid, and transient, while this perspective only exists because of the concrete identities with which we approach these structures. And not to step forward, in the context of the flowing of time, exploring further the complexities – and contradictions – of the Queer State we find ourselves in.

References

Gamson, J. (1995). Must identity movements self-destruct? A queer dilemma. Social Problems, 42(3), 390-407. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/3096854

Heckert, J. (2005). Resisting orientation: On the complexities of desire and the limits of identity politics. Unpublished PhD, University of Edinburgh,

Jung, C. G. (1967). Foreward. Yi Jing or Book of Changes (Richard Wilhelm, Cary F. Baynes Trans.). (pp. xxi-xxxix). New York: Penguin Books.

Shugar, D. (1999). To(o) queer or not? queer theory, lesbian community, and the functions of sexual identities. Journal of Lesbian Studies, 3(3), 11.

[1] I’ll use ‘queer’ to denote the umbrella term sense, and ‘Queer’ to denote the academic theoretical framework, in full awareness of the hierarchy that this imposes.

Globalizing and Queering done in Concert

2009-12-04T11:51:00.003-05:00

I will soon post a paper that I'm writing on globalization and queerness. I hope to explore the problems and features of cultural hegemony of (Western) LGBT identities over the indigenous gender/sexual constructs/culture in the (an?) "Asian" experience. For now, though, it is very important that we seek to understand this poem by Filipino-American poet R. Zamora Linmark. In doing so, perhaps we can understand more about ourselves.

They like you because you eat dog, goat and pig's blood . . .
They like you because you kneel hard, bend over quick and spread wide . . .
They like you because you're a potato queen . . .
They like you because you take it in, all the way down
They like you because you ask for it, adore it
They like you because you're a copycat, want to be just like them
They like you because, give it a couple more years, you'll be just like them
And when that time comes, will they like you more?

Perhaps this doesn't have the same impact if you're not in the same headspace as I am, but it's causing me profound angst and introspection...

Aches and Pains

2009-06-29T11:34:00.004-04:00

My heart hurts today; love, it seems, is not enough.

I have a heart for the Church. I've tried so hard not to. I have spent a lot of time being resentful, bitter, and risked cynicism because I couldn't handle the silent oppression for being different. I heard a sermon last week in which the pastor said that you can't forgive institutions, you have to forgive people. What he meant by this, I think, is that it is individuals who make mistakes and it's inaccurate (at best) to indiscriminately blame a group for the failings of a few. In this case, however, I'm pretty upset with the whole lot. The lot of church leaders who are so aware of the nuance and uncertainty surrounding verses in Scripture, verses that are the foundation of long held Church teachings. And the lot of their congregants, the silent flocks who feel in their hearts the call to love, the call to listen... the call to wrestle with the nuance and uncertainty. Perhaps even the call to change.

I was talking to a friend recently. She's an adamant supporter of LGBT equality. I asked her what she knew about how the above church was handling the issue of minority gender and sexual identities. She told me that she'd had a meal with church leaders at the above church, and that they were very sympathetic. They had acknowledged that the issue needed to be dealt with, that LGBT folks needed to be invited and welcomed into the church. But, in the words of my friend, they had said, "There are 500 ways to screw this up, and only one way to do it right." Their fear is that the very discussion would divide the congregation.

I'm reminded of times not-so-long past, when some churches used Scripture to exclude other groups, openly denying other minorities the opportunity at loving community. People of color kept in the fringes, isolated into communities of outcasts, worshiping with one another. I see a similar trend today, with LGBT folks, their friends and allies all worshiping the same God that they've been told doesn't accept them.

I've also seen the deep hurt, the tears and the weary eyes of my LGBT friends who open their hearts so wide to a community that will not, perhaps cannot listen. The oppressed bending over backward to show that they're human, that they deserve to be loved. To be heeded. To be given the dignity of a listening ear.

Granted, LGBT folks have their share of patience to contribute; dialogue is a two-way street. But when the balance of power is weighted to one group, shouldn't it be that group that sacrifices a bit? Else it becomes the right of the oppressed to restore this balance?

I guess what I'm asking for is a little awe. I want the Church to open their eyes to the great sacrifice that it's calling LGBT folks to make. A call to celibacy, in some denominations, or, at the impasse of an unchanging gender/sexual identity, the forfeit of their church communities altogether. All this based on church teachings with a foundation on a few sketchy verses and a long history of heterocentrism and homophobia. Perhaps this will lead to a little respect, a lot more love, and some serious, long-overdue understanding.

I'm Coming Out -- You should too!

2009-05-14T21:04:00.006-04:00

Hello, everyone. I have an announcement to make: I am a gay man.

Until recently, every time I said that, there was this twinge of fear, a fuzz of shame. I was slightly embarrassed, felt like I was telling a secret about myself that could spell disaster. I'd usually follow up with a comment that somehow defended my place as a "straight-acting" man, able to blend into the heteronormative society surrounding me. As time progresses, though, and as I progress along the path of coming-out, I feel less and less reservation about claiming my gay identity. The journey to this point has been long, a story about negotiating prestige, power, and gender and sexual identity amidst deep-felt fear and judgment from myself and my friends and family...

Yeah, you guessed it, I grew up in the Church. In fact, I was a staunch Christian; I asked my parents if I could attend a private Christian school for my last year of high school. I even offered to pay for half of the tuition with money I'd made working in a local coffee shop. Around this time, I began to know that I was gay, but back then, I called it "same-sex attractions." This term was used among myself and my counselor to describe the attractions that I had to men. My counselor was a Christian man, a psychologist -- a good one, actually. I have my misgivings about his Christian approach to my sexual orientation, but I certainly benefited from our interactions. We talked a lot about how gender expression didn't have to conform to the strictly structured gender norms of American culture. I could play the violin, write poetry, and sing, and it could be masculine just because I claimed a masculine identity. It was here, too, that I learned to differentiate between sexual desire and sexual expression, a distinction that has shaped my philosophies of romantic love, and sexual practice.

Perhaps I'm not critical enough of the way I was brought to think about sexuality early in my dealing with my sexual orientation, but the fact of the matter is that I identify a lot with Christians, especially when they humbly and honestly grapple with the reality of sexuality and their deeply-held faith. That's what I was engaged in around this time, as well. After attending counseling, I joined a group at a local church that was committed to engaging with the tension of being a Christian and finding oneself attracted to the same gender. Not ready to call my self gay yet, I would only ever admit to being attracted to men. I was careful, too, to place myself in the social world of males, and had a girlfriend, off-and-on, until my freshman year of college.

2005 found me at a small, private, Christian liberal arts college, stumbling around and getting in arguments with my peers about queer theology. I'd always make sure to distance myself from the argument a bit, hedging my words with, "Well, one argument to what you're asserting is that..." By the end of two years at this school, however, I found myself tired, my growth stunted, and my monetary funds depleted. It was time to transfer to another school, where I could figure myself out, cope with my orientation, and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I landed at Grand Valley State University, again not far from my hometown. Amidst my parents divorcing, and having increasingly negative experiences with hegemonic heterocentrism among my Christian friends, my faith was finally put to rest; I had shed the skin of the faith I grew up with to embrace a bigger, more mystical view of the metaphysical. With this came a process of becoming fully comfortable with myself, my gender expression, and my gay identity.

Today, I see many of my gay friends at the place that I was a couple of very short years ago. I'm brought back to what it was like to consider my feelings "not okay." I remember thinking that while God may not have had a problem with my sexual orientation, the attractions I felt were due to some systemic brokenness of society or spirit. It may not have been a condemnable sin, but to me, homosexuality was the product of sin. I wasn't able to see it then, but this headspace was so oppressive! It contributed to my stunted growth, hindering me from pursuing actualization. I thought I was in need of fixing. That, or I faced a lifetime of coping with the fact that my attractions could never be as pure as those of my heterosexual friends. Since becoming convinced of the validity of my gay identity, I have never felt freer, lighter, more able to take on the world. But it was only through a long, painful process of coming out that this was possible.

All that to say this: It is almost as oppressive to witness many of my friends in this a similar headspace. I see it on their faces, hear it in their words, and it distresses me. In a recent Gay.com story, the author wrote about being unwilling to date men who were not out. At first, one might react negatively to this discrimination, asserting that we're all in various stages of the coming out process, as some commenters did. In evaluating my own response, though, I found myself agreeing with the author, but not on the grounds that he cited. I'm fully willing to be a support in the coming out process. I must admit, though that on this topic, I'm impatient; I'd have a very hard time adjusting to seeing someone with whom I'm close internalize the oppression of homophobia and heteronormativity. I say this not to warn potential suitors of my requirements. Rather, this is to illustrate the level of urgency that I feel about this. It is from this place that I implore my fellow queers to blurt it out, blush like hell, and begin the process of being open with themselves and others about their noble identities as LGBTQI people.

Meaning, Hermeneutics, and A Season in Hell

2009-04-28T01:36:00.004-04:00

Hello, all.

Here's something different: a link to a podcast about (and dramatic reading of) a piece of queer poetry by Arthur Rimbaud (Louise Varèse, tr.) titled A Season in Hell. The discussion is specifically about Delirium I, a small part of the much large poem, and questionable usefulness of history/enquiry into the life of the author in understanding the meaning of a text. Big topics discussed include the Death of the Author, and the Fusion of Horizons.

This podcast was produced to fulfill a requirement for a class I took during the winter semester of 2009 called Meaning. In it, we studied and discussed the construction and deconstruction and reconstruction meaning in light of structuralism, post-structuralism, deconstructionism (Derrida, mostly), and Gadamerian philosophical hermeneutics, (among others). Enjoy!

Language Variety--Even in America

2008-12-20T18:01:00.004-05:00

This was an extra credit response in my Sociolinguistics class. Seeing as it was internet based, I thought I'd share.
--
For a country that has no official language, the American system sure can push English. Many of my family members, for example, still get offended when hearing people speak Spanish in public. Silly as this may be, the sentiment is shared by many Americans who perceive that English is, was, and should be the country’s only language. Listening to their rhetoric (or lack thereof), a power differential usually emerges, with the English speaker’s linguistic toes being stepped on by the utterance of a foreign tongue, and their imposition of a presumed English monolingualism in this country. However, this view, it could easily be argued, does not fit with the democratic ideals to which this nation claims to adhere. That’s why it is so good to see, hear, and experience a pluralism of manners of speaking in links such as the one to the MLA Language Map or the International Dialects of English Archive site.

The MLA Language map is very helpful in revealing the full extent of the US’s language diversity. A full 18% of speakers in America, it reports, use a language other than English. While ten percent of these speakers use Spanish or a Creole thereof, the other eight are a hodge-podge of languages like Chinese, Arabic, Russian, and Gujarathi. This diversity does not just point to a cultural or ethnic diversity, but a plurality of expression. Because our worldview is expressed largely through language, our processing takes on different structure, mood, or connotation based on our choice of expression. In my Sociolinguistics class, for example we looked at The Bilingual’s Creativity (1987) by Kachru (sorry, couldn't find a link to the full text outside of my school's library). It's a study of the discourse and stylistic features of dialects of English that emerge out of contact with other languages. It shows the abounding depth and texture to the English of bilingual speakers. Language plurality, therefore, is instrumental in maintaining a diversity of perspectives often neglected under the hegemony of English’s ubiquity.

Ironically, because of this ubiquity, English has been stretched into many different dialects the world over. The International Dialects of English Archive indicates the full extent to which English varies, while the Dictionary of American Regional English and Michigan Corpus of Academic Spoken English both show hearty variation on more domestic and local scales. English’s marked adaptability has been a huge part of its success. Because it is so widely used, it’s assimilated words from all over the world, with some 25+% derived from French languages. English’s ability to accommodate new vocabulary, and even calques, has been cited as “an adaptive strategy undertaken by speakers to enrich certain registers of a language, rather than having to switch to the new language for that register. (Mesthrie et. al. 2000)” Furthermore, despite efforts toward standardization, English continues to be used in new ways by speakers applying their native language's semantic and grammatical structures to English, and insodoing, contributing to variation within English itself. It is due to its plasticity that English enjoys the place it does today.

Notwithstanding, the prestige of English lends itself to pride and a strongly dominant posture among its speakers. American non-English speakers are often stigmatized for their lack of fluency.* But homogeny has never made for a realistic (let alone healthy) goal. Moreover, existing in community is inherently pluralistic, as no individual expresses in the same way, nor could they have the same ideologies, exactly. Then, to participate fully in this community, we go beyond what seems familiar, and exercise patience with something new, perhaps uncomfortable, and recognize the great value in someone else’s linguistic ways. In short, English’s prestigious speakers could learn a lesson from their language’s history, and then turn an ear to learn from the tongue of another.

[*Sometimes, even, they're assumed to be much less fluent than they might actually be, just because of a thick accent. Accents can be virtually impossible to eradicate from one's language outside having learned another before the speaker hits puberty.]

REFERENCES

Baker, W., & Eggington W. G. (1999). Bilingual Creativity, Multidimensional Analysis, and World Englishes. World Englishes, 18(3), 343-358.
Mesthrie, R., Swann, J., Deumert, A, and Leap, W. (2000). Introducting sociolinguistics. Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

True Poetry

2008-06-17T09:42:00.008-04:00

Again, I'm sorry to say that it's been quite some time since my previous post. I am, of late, preoccupied with studying Chinese in Taiwan. Any blogging that I've been doing is for my other blog. Recent events, however, have me thinking more about linguistic magic than Chinese studies, so here we all are.

The magic I speak of is the ability of words to hit so soundly on the intangible. That is, to refer to things far outside of the realm of the physical. I wrote in a previous entry that some things are simply incapable of being expressed with words. On the other hand, though, words can be bafflingly good at pinning down things bigger than the here and now. The example that comes to mind is a poem by Dylan Thomas called Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night. And boy, it's a good one. Before we take a look, however, I'd like to share a bit about what I've been considering lately.

The realm of my understanding is most certainly composed almost completely of the here and now. There's no denying that I can rarely transcend the physical realm, just as much of my language has a concrete physical referant. "Shoe" refers to that thing that you put on your foot. Perhaps your concept of shoe-ness is complete with laces, a sole, and even a little tag by which you pull the heal onto your foot, as mine is. Even abstract words. Like love for example; for me it's usually conceptualized or rationalized by thinking of actions. Or perhaps the definition has to do with feelings, which again, grounds the word to some type of here-and-now-ness.

The mere fact that I have the ability to consider that "love" has an intangible, irrational, or incomprehensible quality leads me to believe that somehow, there is something beyond the here-and-now. Perhaps this "thing beyond" is merely some sense of social sentiments, or, as some philosophers call it, "fellow-feelings." Perhaps it's a collective consciousness or collective intelligence. Perhaps it really is God's Higher Purpose for our lives, after all. Whatever it is, I think it is. And that's all I can really say.

Because we humans can conceive of these things, and because we need a way to talk about them, and because the way we talk is with words, words are able to point beyond the physical realm. Poetry, good poetry, I think, is the most important method of doing so.

I think I can feel that bigger thing when I read Thomas's poem. I feel like this spectacular thing that we call life - the animating spark of the physical, the something that makes us breathe and laugh, and write poetry - is very precious. And its ceasing is to be lamented with fierce, burning tears of indignation. This poem, points so far beyond the words that are used, and it does so loudly, overtly, and unwaveringly. Thats the genius of it.

Here's the poem, after all (and for your listening pleasure a link to hear Thomas himself read it):

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Long time, no see!

2008-05-23T13:14:00.008-04:00

How long it has been since I posted last!

In light of my impending trip to Taiwan, I'd like today to write about Chinese Language, or Zhong Wen, or Han Yu, depending on the specific thing we're talking about. (Zhōng Wén, or 中文, is the written language, and Hàn Yǔ, or 漢語 more usually refers to the spoken.)

Chinese's influence is broad and varied, and it's importance is increasingly obvious as the country gains economic and political prowess. So why not dive in?

Chinese is a tonal language, employing four tones, and one neutral tone. The tones make similarly sounding words completely different words to Chinese speakers' ears as the link will show.

As an analytic language, Chinese gets a lot of it's meaning from the word order in sentences. This is very similar to English: "The dog bit the boy," is quite a different sentence in English from "The boy bit the dog." The same goes for Chinese. Directions of verbs from subject to object are indicated by the order in which the nouns appear. So "我愛你" (wǒ aì nǐ) means "I love you," and not the other way around.

Another important thing to remember, is that Chinese has hundreds of dialects, many of which are completely unintelligible to one another. Usually when people talk about Chinese, they're talking about Mandarin Chinese, kind of the central government's dialect. Many Chinese people (and East Asians, for that matter) speak fluent Mandarin along with their local dialect.

Chinese hasn't had much interplay with the more western languages, largely because they're so different, but some words that English has from Chinese are katsup (from ke tziap for a condiment previously used in the Roman Empire), kowtow (from kou tou) and the phrase, "Long time, no see," (literally translated from hǎo jǐu bú jiàn). Notice how each word or phrase goes from a tonal and distinctly Chinese pronunciation, to an Anglicized version of the word fitting our phonetic system, and then gets smashed together as we repeat the word or phrase. This is very common, if not ubiquitous in borrowings from other languages.

Lastly, here's a vid that tries to teach a bit of basic Hàn Yǔ. You can get a feel for how Chinese sentences are formed, and hear the tonal differences in words. Keep in mind that Chinese is a language that comes with a whole different way of thinking; that's how "You Good," can mean something slightly different than the words separately. Cheers!

Unspeakable

2008-03-15T03:02:00.003-04:00

In my experience, very many things are hard to explain. Such a predicament is a frequent source of frustration for me, eliciting gritted teeth and a cursed apostrophe to Reason or Communication or some such. Most of these dis-communications are usually re-communicated with some level of relief, even if the speaker has to go on arduously explaining what she means with a long winded sentence such as this. But no matter how deep a hole one digs on these matters, she can always, with enough time and effort, dig herself out. Lately, though, several conversations have brought me outside of the world of the communicable, and into the clouds.

Matters such as equality, ethics, emotion and (though I hate to break the e-lliteration) true-selfhood bring me away from this reality, and beyond what I find myself able to explain. I suppose this has something to do with the field of Metaphysics, though on a much less Theo-centric twist. I'm reading about Taosim as of late, and I get the feeling that reading books or talking with people is not the way to learn. Some things are better left to intuition and experience.

Embedded in this frustration at non-lucidity is the notion that one should be able to clearly explain ones ideas, so that two minds become one in their understanding of such-and-such a notion. It seems that with enough words and explanation, our interlocutors and we should have a crystal clear view of the truth before us. After all, if Truth is absolute, it would be the same for everyone, right? And, if we cannot express it, is it possible that we don't know what we're talking about? (For what do we know that we cannot express?) If I can't tell my classmate what I see from my perspective, could it be that my vision is too foggy to say, for sure, what (or how) the visage is?

My guess is that we do indeed see foggily. Our vision is never infinitely good. And, similarly, our communication is never infinitely lucid. As my friend and I talk about the truth from our own perspectives, undoubtedly our vantage points are different, and we could indeed be seeing two very different angles of what may be the same concept. Your side of the beach ball could be blue and orange, and white. The ball , I'll argue, is red, and white and yellow.

And we'll talk, and talk, and talk ourselves dizzy until we acknowlege our inadequate communication, our differing paradigms, and our own flawed vision.

Cop Out

2008-03-15T01:07:00.002-04:00

This is from my Study of Modern English Class on the Topic "Who Wants to be a Linguist:"

Where the Rubber Meets the Road

"Linguistics," I assert when my grandmother asks what I want to study. She blinks, a blank look on her face.

"And that is...?" she returns.

"Well, um, it's, um... It's hard to explain."

To most, linguistics seems a nebulous field. I plan to spend my career studying and teaching it, and still have trouble coming up with the right words. I have tried saying that it's the study of languages, to which the reply is often, "So how many of them are you studying?" Language seems to be neatly segregated into the "non-math, non-science" category in our minds, so it's hard for many to understand how (and why) the two come together. By applying a scientific approach to studying language, however, linguistics not only informs our understanding of words and how we use them, but also allows us to objectively address our own bias, and expose social injustice.

Considering the ubiquity of language, it seems uncanny how often it is used to judge others. We often parse speakers of different dialects or languages into their own categories, and look down on them for being slovenly, uneducated, or illogical. The truth is, as one reads repeatedly from Bauer & Trudgill (1998), that language is highly organized, predictable, and perfectly valid. Bauer (1998) responds to the myth that "Some Languages Have no Grammar" with "All [languages] allow the precise communication of complex messages, and this requires grammar" (p. 79). Languages have to have rules to indicate the meaning of the utterances spoken. He later writes, "A language without grammar is a contradiction in terms" (p. 84). If language is a manner of communicating ideas, a language without grammar cannot exist. Many say that a language lacks the rules that ‘civilized' languages have, usually referring to Latin. While this may be true, in order for it to function as such, a language must have rules, and is perfectly capable of conveying thoughts accurately and precisely. By understanding the systematic nature of language, we can appreciate all language as legitimate. Evans (1998) also gets at this idea. His experience with Aboriginal languages, and peoples' attitudes toward them, shed light on the complexity and sophistication of languages many people term "primitive." One Aboriginal language has declensions as Latin does. And the adaptation of a singular noun to refer to one or two or more of that noun is efficient and rule-governed. Furthermore, many Aborigines not only learn their own complex language, but typically learn two or more languages from their spouses, grandparents, parents, and friends. Is a culture really "primitive" or uneducated if its members are multilingual? Predispositions to one's own language may blind them to the strengths of others'.

Such bias against different ways of speaking can have some devastating outcomes. In his "How I got into Linguistics, and What I got out of it," Labov (1997) chronicles how his research uncovered some nasty truths about discrimination, through studying language. In one study, he and colleagues found that the disparity between black and white students' reading abilities in Harlem was due to "the symbolic devaluation of African American Vernacular English that was part of the institutionalized racism of our society" (p. 4). Characterizing a trend in his research, he also notes that "increasing segregation in the northern cities is depriving the black community of its basic resources, and is in danger of creating a permanent underclass" (p. 5). Without his empirical approach to language, it's hard to believe that he would have exposed this important truth.

This clip draws out some important questions surrounding language bias. Garrard McClendon, the author of the book Ax or Ask asserts that African Americans should learn to "defend themselves" from failure by learning the "rules of the game" when in the field of American English. This is certainly an effective way to adapt to a system hostile to nonstandard dialects. But is this right? Should speakers of African American English have to change their dialect to succeed in our system? It seems to me that if we have learned anything from our study of language, it is that any dialect is legitimate. So, in a system that unjustly discriminates against legitimate language on the mere basis of its being nonstandard, it's the discriminators that have the burden of change, and not the discriminated. Thank goodness we have a scientific method of studying these languages and their differences; and it is linguistics that offers us this approach, without which we may not be able to step outside our stigmas and uncover the truth about something we seem so familiar with: our language.

References

Bauer, W. (1998). Myth 10: Some Languages Have no Grammar. In Bauer L & Trudgill, P. (Eds.), Language Myths (pp. 77-84). London: Penguin Books.

Evans, N. (1998). Myth 19: Aborigines Speak a Primitive Language. . In Bauer L & Trudgill, P. (Eds.), Language Myths (pp. 159-168). London: Penguin Books.

Labov, William. (1997). How I got into Linguistics. Retrieved March 10, 2008, from http://www.ling.upenn.edu/~wlabov/HowIgot.html

Link - The New Jerusalem

2008-02-09T18:46:00.001-05:00

While the green revolution is on its waning end in most of the western world, the United States could still do some catching up. I won't go into the Kyoto Protocol, or the heinous environmental policies of certain administrations, but rather offer some positive input:

It seems that Europe, on top of kicking our asses in every other area of common sense and progressivism, has quite the reputable think tank, cranking out super ideas about Combined Heat and Power systems, biomass energy, and green housing, all with the legislation to back them up. To get a better feel for their ideas, click here to be redirected to EfficienCity, a cute virtual town where seagulls chirp in the background as you enlighten yourself on the feasibility of a reduced-carbon future. Click around in the digital city to view videos and animations on cutting edge technology and real life operations that implement them.

The Value of One's Word

2008-02-08T14:00:00.001-05:00

What's in a word? There's the sounds that compose the words (which linguists call phonemes), there's the letters that spell the word. There's also the history of the word (etymology), and the setting (time, place, social situation, surrounding words, genre) (or pragmatics), both of which help to contribute to the all around feeling of the word (connotation), and finally, its meaning to each unique mind with relation to all of the above (semantics). (NOTE: the links for these aren't mere Wikipedia articles. I did my research and the links are interesting!)

We also are quite aware that words have some type of power, beyond just the two-dimensional meaning of each word. Words themselves have not only referents outside themselves ("ring" refers to that thing you put on your finger) but can be used abstractly to refer to a whole world of complex and emotionally powerful meanings (follow the ring example?).

And when such impactful words are strung together to form more complex ideas, meaning can increase exponentially. When my family became members of my childhood church, the Pastor asked us a series of questions about our beliefs and intentions. By answering "I will"--just two simple words that apart from one another and this context have much less meaning--we declared our commitment and devotion to these things. There's a certain amount of aether involved, a level of the invisible that gets wrapped up in such words.

It is quite curious that, especially in religious or spiritual contexs, declaring our intent comes with such an expectation that what has been declared will be done to the highest efforts of the declarer. Such is the definition of a promise. (Oxford American Dictionary puts it: "A declaration or assurance that one will do a particular thing, or that guarantees that a particular thing will happen.") And should the promise be about a position or role that we are to assume, we call it a vow. (OAD: a solemn promise, (vows) a set of such promises committing one to a prescribed role, calling, or course of action). Should these promises involve an invocation of a god as witness or enforcer, we call it an oath.

What bothers me is the mutability of such oaths, especially today (divorce rate projected at something like 50%, and higher among religious Christians). In 1867, there was one divorce for every 35.9 marriages. Today (2000), that's at about one for every 2.46. So what kind of magic was in the words of all those married before? Was it male-dominated society's stranglehold over divorce laws? Probably had something to do with it. Could there have been the effect of conservative religious views? Perhaps. May it have been a higher level of duty and resposibility over today's rampant individualism? That's possible, too. A million other factors could be involved.

But there could also be something else involved; could it be that we no longer attatch such divine importance on our commitments? When I say I'll be at so-and-so's gathering on Friday night, I don't invoke a celestial witness. Even if my interlocutor depended upon me being there, and expected that I would, I'd say the same thing: "I will". I'd say it with the intention to do it. And were I to say this in a Church, nothing would change. I wouldn't worry that people were going to overhear me saying that and then find out that I wasn't there and say, "but you promised before God!"

Whatever the case, my generation has very few qualms with going back on one's word, especially if it doesn't hurt anyone directly; I no longer am "willing to give of their time, abilities, and resources to support the various church interests, according to their ability." But that doesn't bother me at all. I didn't say, "I will," with any more conviction than when I say "I wil" finish my homework before Monday." I intend to do it, but if something comes up that supersedes the desire to execute that action, I will go back on my word.

So what is it that gives certain I will's so much meaning, so much expectation, and so much...oath-iness? Is it the sea of religious people watching us? Is it the belief that God will punish you if you screw up, or the level of dependance upon the execution of the promise? Is it the loss of the magic surrounding words, or a laziness? Or is it something I've missed altogether?

Pinker on Morality

2008-02-01T14:45:00.001-05:00

Steven Pinker, one of my favorite authors, is a linguist, psychologist, and, now it seems, somewhat a moralist. He was featured a couple of days ago on an episode of NPR's Talk of the Nation, after his column "The Moral Instinct" was printed in the 13 Jan edition of the NY Times. Both feature about the same information, so take your pick; are you an auditory or visual learner? Either way he raises some very interesting questions. Here's a recap from the article (cutting and pasting is so much easier) to start, then some notes from the radio show:

"Many of these moralizations, like the assault on smoking, may be understood as practical tactics to reduce some recently identified harm. But whether an activity flips our mental switches to the ''moral'' setting isn't just a matter of how much harm it does. We don't show contempt to the man who fails to change the batteries in his smoke alarms or takes his family on a driving vacation, both of which multiply the risk they will die in an accident. Driving a gas-guzzling Hummer is reprehensible, but driving a gas-guzzling old Volvo is not; eating a Big Mac is unconscionable, but not imported cheese or crème brûlée. The reason for these double standards is obvious: people tend to align their moralization with their own lifestyles."

If you're going to read the article, pay attention to the moral dilemmas on the third page. They reveal a lot about our moral psychology: "People don't generally engage in moral reasoning, ... but moral rationalization: they begin with the conclusion, coughed up by an unconscious emotion, and then work backward to a plausible justification."

Pinker goes into the physical psychology of moral judgments including the trolley dilemma. Different parts of the brain light up when making the moral judgment between throwing a fat man in front of the trolley barreling toward 5 unsuspecting victims, than when considering pulling a switch that will amount in about the same outcome. Three areas light up in the former: (1) "implicated in emotions about other people", (2) "implicated in ongoing mental computation (including nonmoral reasoning, like deciding whether to get somewhere by plane or train)", and (3) "an evolutionarily ancient strip lying at the base of the inner surface of each cerebral hemisphere, registers a conflict between an urge coming from one part of the brain and an advisory coming from another." In the latter, however, only the second area lit up, which "corroborate Greene's theory that our nonutilitarian intuitions come from the victory of an emotional impulse over a cost-benefit analysis."

In listening to the radio show (at about 8:00 into the broadcast) Pinker answers an interesting question about war, implying that the way we do war, with kinship metaphors and communal meals, are ways of brainwashing people into thinking that they're fighting for their clan or family, rather than "a more abstract entity called the nation-state."

The morality of certain issues, like homosexuality, is amoralized over time, and amoral issues of the past are now moralized; take smoking for example.

Five ways to moralize: Purity (vs. Contamination), Group Loyalty/Conformity to Norms, Avoidance of Harm, Fairness, and Deference to Authority. Interestingly, Left wingers tend to appeal more to Avoidance of Harm and Fairness, whereas conservatives favor Purity, Group Loyalty, and Deference to Authority...

One caller on the radio show poses the question of whether this is a more convincing approach for justifying morality than an appeal to something like a divine edict. Pinker, in his response says, "I don't think that Traditional religion is a viable source for morality." Rather, the more convincing source of morality lies in "rational interchangeability of perspectives (23:47)." He even implies that there is a higher standard for morality than the Bible, citing different contradictory commands in the bible in which we make a moral judgment one way or the other.

If there's one thing that this teaches us, it's that morality's origin is at least gray. Enough questions surround this topic to conclude that humility should be the name of the game. In any moral question, and in the questions surrounding the nature of morality itself, it must be assumed that you could be wrong.

Another point worth raising: morality, evolutionary or a result of something else, serves a purpose and is part of our make up for a reason. And morality for morality's sake seems an unlikely reason. As people began facing social pressures rather than environmental pressures as the primary obstacle to survival, we began to possess a negative reaction to behavior that compromised the community upon which humanity came to rely.

This is interesting, because it implies that morality is highly reasonable. And being reasonable has its benefits. We can talk about it in concrete (as concrete as concrete, at least) terms, and get out of our dogmatic bubbles when talking about "right" and "wrong."

And if morality has evolutionary origins, that hints that our existence in a community has a synergistic effect. We wouldn't evolve with socio-philic emotions hard wired within if it didn't benefit the species in some way to exist in community. And that offers a bit of hope, I suppose.

From the Frying Pan into the Fire

2008-01-30T18:18:00.001-05:00

I was reading some literature from my "Liberal Studies Reader" a selection from John Dewey's Experience and Education and stumbled upon this quote:

"Impulses and desires that are not ordered by intelligence are under the control of acidental circumstances. It may be a loss rather than a gain to escape from the control of another person only to find one's conduct dictated by immediate whim and caprice; that is, at the moercy of impulses into whose formation intelligent judgment has not entered. A person whose conduct is controlled in this way has at most only the illusion of freedom. Actually he is directed by forces over which he has no command."

This is, of course found in a context, that being the assertion that education as Dewey saw it was more about regurgitation of facts than the offering of profound educational experience that perpetuates further education and enjoyment. But the nature of this quote made me think on several conversations I've had with good friends about the illusion of freedom. Freedom is a tricky thing. When at first it would seem that we are free, all because we've thrown off by the bonds of "custom and established routines," as Dewey puts it in the selection I read, we find ourselves our own masters, seeking to fulfill every whim that we have. But a truly freeman is he who submits to another authority: society, love, intellectualism--call it what you like, it's what defines you. What governs who you are. It is the measure by which you set yourself. And until we free ourselves to submit to such an authority, we shall forever be in bondage of something.

MLK's World House

2008-01-21T19:23:00.001-05:00

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964 and gave this lecture in December of that year. My favorite quote is the following:

"True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it understands that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring."

His lecture which has been given the title "World House" outlines a rationale for making the eradication of poverty, racism, consumerism, and militarism high on our list of priorities. Below is a "found poem" using the words from Dr. King's speech.

the deep rumbling of discontent
thundering of disheartened masses
lured into the mines
locked out of the earthly kingdom of
health, wealth, and
happiness
yearning for freedom

the chants of the conquerors of old
who came
killing in persuit of peace.
oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever.
dark storm clouds form

do we have the courage
to face the
challenge of change?
and say
with riteous indignation
This is not just.

how much longer will we
play at deadly war games,
before we heed the plaintive pleas?

the fierce urgency of now
tomorrow is today

Dying Languages

2008-01-19T13:09:00.001-05:00

I was reading this NYT article called "Racing to Capture Vanishing Languages" and was stricken by a few thoughts.

Diversity is a concept that many people value, citing its benefits in its fostering of synergy in multiple perspectives and variety of experience. But few remember that diversity goes beyond race, ethnicity, nationality, gender, sexual orientation, or socio-economic status. Diversity is a broad concept, characterizing the value in variety of any difference. Standardization has its benefits, but remembering the rich complexity that life offers is another very important side of the same coin.

And so it is with language. In the above article, the story of a documentary film crew is used as a springboard for much deeper themes. Their passion for preservation of ways of expression is something that I share; I ache for the death of yet another precious language. Why? Because a complex way of thinking is wrapped up in how Chulyum language (a Serbian tongue with only 5 remaining speakers) rationalizes this chaotic universe with words.

So I applaud the many efforts of linguists, language enthusiasts, the beautiful people of the endangered cultures across the globe, and their part in the preservation of the many diverse linguistic expressions.

Start at the Begining

2008-01-18T12:28:00.001-05:00

Hello all-

After enjoying the entries of many blogs over the recent years, and being required this semester to keep a different blog for class, I've decided to take the plunge into the vast field of average joes on soapboxes.

Here are some preliminary thoughts about this blog:

I'd like to make commentary on the way we use words, and perhaps readers may be witness to snide quips or emotional outbursts about such usage.

Such commentary may turn political or social, and I will not try to withold my opinoin. What else is a blog than an editorial column for the every-man(person)?

I'll probably post note worthy readings, links to other blogs, and participate in networking to enrich my words with those of others.

And lastly, I'll probably be MIA for weeks at a time. I have a tendency to act as a pendulum on such pseudo-commitments as this. Relax, I'll be back in time.

Yours,
TongueTied