How to read? Part 1

We are about to embark on a multi-part journey on reading.  Buckle your seatbelts.

There is reading and then there is reading.  And as far as the written word goes, reading usually requires reading.  But we’re not going to be discussing phonics.  Today, we are going to lay some groundwork regarding the idea of criticism, in the most literal sense.

(Sorry, bad jokes.  I’m done.)

Reading is about chasing the Why.  It’s about unearthing the meaning of things (the thing being the text, in this parlance).  Reading is a unique ability of the human consciousness.  Exclusively amongst all the earthly creatures, we can make determinations about what things mean: songs, paintings, books, television commercials, strip mall aesthetics, etc.

We decide what these things mean.  We can also make assessments about who we are based on our own reading of the text.  What does it mean that I perceive something in a specific way?  The fact that a text even exists serves to inform us about who we are as a culture.

This seems like a good time to bring up our (read: human beings) propensity to categorize things binarily:  Yes/No. True/False. We like it when we have 2 options.  This helps simplify our cognitive process.  We’ve even built our computers that way.  But it’s important to understand that reading doesn’t work like that.  When we try to turn reading into a T or F exercise, we aren’t moving toward joy–which is our ultimate point. In fact, the opposite happens.

Take for example a sunrise—and remember, everything is a text that can be read.  Here are some responses from different people experiencing it:

     1.   “The red hue of the sky is simply glorious!”

     2.  “Well, I guess I have to get up.”

     3.  “Better take my umbrella.”

     4.  “Dagnabbit…”   or an even more colorful phrase, perhaps.

These are all legitimate and vastly different responses to the same text.  Now, let’s take a look at the meaning that the reader was inferring from the text based on their comments.

     1.  Sunsets are often glorious, right?  This seems like a fairly cliché typical response.  This represents an emotionally based reading.

     2.  Sunrise means the day is starting.  Many people need to get up and go to work, etc.  While this may not be the typical response to a beautiful sunset, it is definitely a legitimate response because sunrise certainly marks the beginning of the day.

     3.  A red sky in the morning is a harbinger for a coming storm.

     4.  Something unpleasant is going to happen today.

We have to realize that everyone of us brings the full weight of our being to the table when we encounter a text.  When we tell #4 that he is an idiot and needs to get with the program, i.e. the #1s, we are essentially invalidating his thinking—which would include his intellect, experience, and emotions.  And oftentimes, we have very little insight into his rationale.

What happens when you judge #4 and then he tells you today is the day he has to put his dog down?  What happens when we act like #3 is a space cadet because we have no idea what she is talking about?

We look foolish.  That’s what happens.  We have now created extra work for everyone when it comes to joyfully connecting with the other person.  Unfortunately, this kind of thing happens all the time.  Now, this certainly doesn’t mean that we should lionize every reading that we encounter, because many readings are, without question, what we might call… worse.

Stay tuned for Part 2, when we’ll explore ways to evaluate the readings we encounter.

You’re electric, baby!!!!!

 

Neuroscience is so hot right now.  And I don’t say that simply because my friend the J-rod is a pathological neuroscientist up at NYU.

I heard a neuroscientist (I am quickly tiring of typing out neuroscience, so henceforth we’re going with the shorthand NS) on NPR the other day.  Did you know that the White House gave a big grant to further brain research?  Evidently, some people were upset about this grant saying that we (this must be the editorial we) couldn’t afford it amidst the budget shortfalls and whatnot.  While I’m certainly on the side of fiscal frugality, I would argue that it’s not NS research that we should be skimping on but rather other things, like warring, and Monsanto protection, and armored personal carriers to be used on American city streets.

Slight digression…

My suspicion is that these APC’s will be used during many a local parade.  Have you been to a local parade lately?  I say local to mean wherever you are.  It seems like half of the parade is spent parading Humvee’s and super-SWAT team trailers equipped with some type of drill that I can only assume is meant to allow entry into a hardened-concrete building by means other than the door. (I tried really hard to find a picture of this, but I’m sure you can use your imagination.)

But that Brixton sure does love parades and these large vehicles.  I would prefer if we could swap out the APC for, say, a giant excavator.  I’m all for disaster relief, but I wish that during a parade that celebrates the Spring—and new-life and everything loaded up into the concept—I didn’t have to explain to Brixton that what she is excited about is some sort of terrorism mitigation device on wheels.

OK.

Seriously though, NS is so hot right now.   It seems like every article or book I read makes some reference to the brain studies done that validate its thesis. You know that our bodies are electrical systems, right?  That my fingers strike the keys because they received an electrical signal from my brain that instructs them?  Just like the computer display receives an electrical signal specifying which characters to display on the screen.

So when you say to me, for whatever reason, “nice job”, and I respond by screaming, “I’m electric, baby!!!!”, there is no hyperbole involved whatsoever.

Yes, NS is so hot right now, and it really is very interesting.  Everything we know is somehow stored in our brain tissue and connected to other things we know by way of electric circuits.  And our experiences are the catalyzers for the creation of these circuits.

Here is a real world illustration.

Brixton is 2 and a half.  When she was around 1 and a half, she really started picking up steam with regards to learning words and their semiologic relationships.  When she learned what a bus, plane, and car were, she would always say them together.  She would see a bus, point, and say “bus”.  Then, invariably, she would say “car”, “train”, “ammee” (this was how she said ambulance), etc.  She understood that all of those words fell under the group ‘modes of transportation’.  At least, that was the tacit understanding. This was quite fascinating to watch unfold over the months.  It was like I could see the circuits forming in her mind.  And every time she would say those words together, the circuits and bonds were strengthening.

 

There are a couple references in the Bible about how a person’s sins will be passed down to the 3^rd and 4^th generation.   Check out Exodus 20.  The religious scholars would even ask Jesus whether a person’s circumstances were caused by his own or his ancestor’s sin. Now, on the surface, that Exodus passage really makes it seem like God kind of sucks.  Who would want to believe in a God like that…  He definitely doesn’t come across as just or loving, yet He is, right?

I think neuroscience (I caved) will shed some light.

If what we do and think creates literal physical circuits in our brains.  These now affect our DNA, because they are a part of us.  And when we procreate, our DNA gets passed on…

 

So do the good.

 

More on Tech and Innovation

Last week, I had some thoughts about Facebook and some of the unanticipated negative consequences that have resulted from this seemingly wonderful innovation.

This got me thinking about innovation and technology in general and I think the same duality often exists.

I have a device (let’s call it an iPhone) that functions as a fountain of communication.  I can talk to people in real time who are miles away from me.  I can receive emails in real time, check the weather forecast for this afternoon, see who won the basketball game yesterday, check my stock prices, etc.  I can do all of these things at virtually the same time.

The efficiency in which I am able to do these things should free up gobs of time.  That’s great innovation.

However (and I’m sure you could feel that coming), what am I actually doing with this extra time?  Do I read a story with my kids?  (I’m liking Mo Willems a lot these days.  Thanks to Beth for turning us on to him and helping Brixton find 15 (!!) books at the library last week.)  Or, do I spend my time reading a story about yet another quasi-celebrity that is slipping off the deep-end as evidenced by an increasingly insane-seeming Twitter feed?

Too often, it’s the latter.

It is unfortunate that this device meant to keep me connected increasingly leaves me disconnected from the human beings sitting in the room with me.

I’ve read a lot of 18th and 19th century technology theories suggesting that our future technology would serve to increase the leisure time of the people.  It doesn’t seem likely that these theorists were capitalists (although, I’m not sure how many scholars in general are actually capitalists) but that’s really neither here nor there.  To me, this ‘leisure’ would be time spent renewing in quiet alone or relating with others. (Enjoying relationship with God and people.)  And this seems like a wonderful result.

Yet we have have gone the other way.  Technology has enabled us to fit more ‘tasks’ and ‘production’ into the available time.  Technology has not really made our lives more leisurely or easier.  I might actually argue that advances in innovation have facilitated more potential stress for us, because the expectations for our output have only increased, as have the available distractions that are pulling us toward non-productivity—which manifest as eschewing relationship or eschewing work.

But I don’t think that this is a necessary consequence, only a possible one (granted, one with tremendous pull).  I can use my iPhone for good; it just requires a little more forethought and diligence on my part.

So, to be clear, I am absolutely for technology and innovation.  And if you can handle the corresponding problems and temptations, then mo’ money is absolutely the way to go.  At the least, it increases our capacity for fun and our potential to connect.

 

On Facebook on Facebook (and Twitter too)

On Saturday, I took Isaac (He is 9 months old, but for whatever reason Brixton tells everyone that he is 3.  She knows that she is 2 and will correctly tell people she is 2 and can count to 2010 30, so I’m not sure what that’s about.) to the Starbucks uptown.  (I live in midtown.  Midtown is the only part of Tallahassee described as such, so when I say ‘uptown’, what I really mean is that we went to the Starbucks north of I-10.  Ever since I began living in Midtown, I’ve enjoyed pretending that I live in a city.  This summer they are even opening a Whole Foods just up the street!  I will be excited to walk there and continue my chimera of the city life.  But in all seriousness, living in midtown Tallahassee is pretty rad.  It’s not lavish bourgeoisie–at least not for me–but more like Brooklyn.)

Isaac needed an activity and Jennifer (lately, known as Mama) needed to have only 1 child at home. I’m the one that needed a coffee which then encouraged Jennifer to request a ‘specialty coffee’ as well. (Honestly, I actually like the ‘specialty coffees’ as well, so I’m not casting stones here. Usually, I would have supported the local coffee shop in midtown.  I don’t really know why I went uptown.  To lengthen the activity, perhaps?  But as a shareholder of Starbucks, I don’t really think I went wrong.)

Anyway, Starbucks was slammed, and as I was waiting in line to get my coffee, I saw a friend of mine (He actually started out as my friends dad, but I’m getting older.) It was nice to see him, and we chatted a bit. In the interest of full disclosure, it’s important to note that I am ‘friends’ with this gentleman on Facebook as well as ‘friends’ with his son and his daughter.  Please feel free to stop reading at this point if you feel you’ve heard this one before.

As I was saying, it was nice to see him and he asked me about fatherhood etc.  I asked him how things were going with him, and that’s when, as Big Earl might say, things started to get a little bit weird.

He started to tell me about everything that was going on with his family–which is a very normal activity to partake in with someone that you haven’t seen in awhile.  But with nearly everything he was telling me, I was like, “Oh yeah, I saw that on Facebook.”  It feels like I said that 10 times getting mumblier and mumblier…

I thought about this exchange later on and, to be honest, I was very embarrassed.  The fact that I saw pictures of his grandkids and knew that his son had recently been married kind of dampened the effect that those types of recapitulations would normally have on a conversation.  It was as if the real face-to-face conversation had become the simulacrum and my cyberstalking on Facebook the Real.

This is troubling on a number of levels.

Among others, Baudrillard (He wrote, without question, the single most intellectually challenging–at least from a strict comprehension standpoint–thing I’ve ever read in “Simulations”.  It would take me 30 minutes to read a single page.  And I’ll never forget when my hipster before there was hipster professor, Roger Beebe–I enjoyed his class hence the shout-out–walked into our class on Monday morning after assigning that book to read over the weekend and said, “Uh, I didn’t remember that book being as difficult as it was…”  For some reason, that comment amuses me greatly.) has previously written about this kind of thing, but it never hit me like it did the other day.

Pretty much the main thing I’ve always liked about Facebook is the ability it gives me to ‘keep up’ (Cyberstalking sounds so unabashedly nefarious, doesn’t it?) with people I rarely, if ever, see. (And truth be told, I would barely even know them at this point–if I ever really did.  Facebook!)

And my family can compliment me on my kids.  That’s the real winner.  (Vicariously, I…  Seriously though, I do know that everyone has the most wonderful, beautiful, intelligent children in their own minds; but since this is my mind, Facebook serves to enable this self-fulfilling prophecy.)

But in effect, at least the other day at Starbucks, Facebook had rendered my brief run-in, catch-up on how things are going conversation incredibly impotent.  Obviously, this is my fault for not digging deeper into how he felt about his new daughter-in-law, the wedding food, the weather, ass opposed to focusing in on the the fact that I was already aware of the event, the What.  However, I’m not sure that a brief run-in with, loosely, an acquaintance is the time for a deep dive.

That brings us to a bit of a paradox.

I suppose this is yet another example of …

(I really enjoyed “The Mezzanine”.  So vicariously, I… Sorry about that.)

The Little B Speaks!!

I’ve been going to a bible study for the last couple of months.  We have been going through the book of Exodus.  There is a story in Exodus 16 about manna.  Basically, the Israelites are led out of Egypt by Charlton Heston–I mean Moses.  They are wandering around the desert and get hungry. They ask God (or despairingly complain, depending on your reading) for something to eat and He gives them the manna.  Manna basically means “what is it?”.  This is a famous story.

Table that for a moment.

I have daughter named, Brixton.  She just turned 2.  She is fun.  She is also quite interesting.     For example, when we tuck her into bed at night, we say our prayers as part of the bedtime ritual. She likes to thank God for things like saws, and fire trucks, and jumping.  It’s quite wonderful. However, in the midst of praising God for the joy she experienced while watching the garbage truck earlier in the day, she often starts naming random people that we know.  More often then not, she did not see these people during the day.  She randomly names them.

Our friends, the Canadians, came over for dinner recently.  We were telling them how Brixton had wanted to pray for them the other day. We had assumed that this was simply her being “cute”. The Canadians, however, were floored.  They explained that they were doing some serious remodeling and it was behind schedule and had become an extreme point of stress and contention in their lives.

It was interesting that, randomly, Brixton decided to pray for some people who needed it.

Table that.

Brixton has been talking for awhile now.  Obviously, her vocabulary has increased exponentially over the last year or so and the way she says some words has morphed and evolved (or degraded!) as well.  She has invented exactly 1 word in her life.  She uses it often and in a very consistent manner.

The word she says is manna.  

It’s almost like she isn’t sure how to pronounce it.  (This makes sense as it is not a word that gets a lot of play around our house.)  She might say: mon-ya, or man-A, or manna.  But she always says it to mean “I don’t know” or “what is it”.

For example:

I might say, “Hey Brixton, who is this in the picture?”

She will look at it and then say, “Manna.”

Or she might hold up a piece of aged white cheddar flavored puffed rice and corn (Pirate’s Booty anyone?) and ask “Manna?” while pointing to it.

She has been using this word for over a year and I didn’t put it together until about 2 weeks ago. I am positive she did not learn this word by hearing us use it–which is the way she has learned every other word.

This is quite the coincidence.

Very small children are connected to the Real in a way that gets lost as we age.

 

We need to find it again.