Saturday 15 September 2012

Quotable

Ah to be famous and thus worthwhile. People hanging on your every word, desperate for a quote. And if you'd said something graceful and witty, people would report it but correctly punctuate it and make it aesthetically pleasing and add adverbs like "stoical" to the end of the quote to emphasise how majestic you'd looked as you'd said it. And if you'd said something a little less piquant, people would include the "er"s and erm"s (or "uh"s and "um"s, if you're that way inclined) you'd actually uttered in order to make you look indecisive and confused, as though even spouting that verbal shit had required untold cerebral effort.

This is an unappetising prospect. Thus, if I were notable, I'd be very conscious of the prying eyes and expectant ears and I'd never stop planning my next quip. Desperate to avoid the dreaded "er" and "erm" press tactic, I'd need to have something good to hand. In and amongst this constant plotting of the next witticism, I'd find myself unable (through lack of time) to continue with the activity which made me notable in the first place (the first image which came into my head as I thought of what the activity might be was plate-spinning, so let's say that). I'd then be in limbo, a celebrity without portfolio. Maybe if I was lucky and displayed great sarcastic aptitude I could make a name for myself as a "wit", a minor career change whilst still parading under the celebrity umbrella (and less physically arduous than plate spinning). Except then of course the stakes would be higher. A single slip could be fatal. Suddenly if I stumble over a carefully-plotted amusing anecdote, I'm not just a graceless clod, I'm bad at my job (or rather that activity for which I am notable).

What does this sort of pressure do to a person? To know that if you can't say anything sparkling, don't say anything at all, certain that 'tis better to be silent and be thought a Jedward than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. Does it turn you into a stressed, balding, sweating pun-machine incapable of a genuine human reaction which hasn't been painstakingly filtered? How does one cope with a mind that runs like a small looping school's educational electrical circuit, frantically flapping about until the lightbulb flickers? After a certain amount of time, the pressure would prey on my tiny mind and it'd submit and I'd be reduced from a blubbering stuttering mess into something altogether worse: a collapsed-brain imbecile whose mind has severed itself from the conversation.


Therefore, I've decided that if I should become notable I'll take the low-standards approach and say nothing which might be construed as witty or biting (and thus quotable). It'll be a tricky task, for sure, but I'm willing to resist the temptation. Many of my acquaintances would legitimately argue that I've been resisting the temptation for years.

Tuesday 14 August 2012

Ithaca

For my next post (which has been a long time coming since I've been spending a lot of time working, volunteering and formulating excuses) I will participate in one of the most popular human past-times: brutal hypocrisy.

For, contrary to an earlier post which was critical of poetry not well-written enough to link to now (also I'm lazy), I have decided to praise a piece of verse in this post. It's a poem called Ithaca by C.P. Cavafy, and I've shamelessly reproduced it below.

I'm not a fan of in-depth poetical analysis, especially by rank amateurs such as myself, so I won't explain what I think it means or how I've carefully and selectively read it to fit what I want it to. I'll simply say that I like it because it praises the journey of life:

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,  
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.
Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

It reminds me of a Dave McPherson lyric from the song The Thieves:
Take a trip, take a trip down memory lane
Think of the things you've lost but all the strength that you've gained
All of the trauma, all of the loss and all of the pain
It's not a touch on all the strength that you've gained

 But I don't want to explain why. Partly through laziness and partly because my interpretation is probably massively off and the less I say, the less exposed I am.

Thursday 8 March 2012

Selfish Talking

Selfish talking is a pretty straightforward and recognisable concept. The most basic form is that conversation where two parties are each talking AT each other, where there is no space between each person finishing for the other to have possibly digested what they've said and where each small gap in someone's speech is punctuated by the other starting their side of the conversation. If you're lucky, you might observe both parties repeatedly starting their sentences together until the loudest person wins and the other person sullenly backs down, defeated but at least grateful to have more time to think more about how best to phrase their own incongruous contribution as soon as they find a gap.

So that's the obvious form. Another common and obvious form is the listener who'll let you finish your piece and digest it and listen and such, but whose own contribution will still be subtly about them and nothing to do with you. There are a few tell-tale verbal indicators with this kind of conversational input:

"I know! The same thing happened to me when..." followed by an inappropriate and irrelevant personal anecdote.

"Yeah, it's like the time that..." followed by an inappropriate and irrelevant personal anecdote.

"Well it's just like I was saying when..." followed by an inappropriate and irrelevant personal anecdote.

***

Yeah, there's a bit of a pattern there. It's all about control, and shifting the train tracks of a conversation until it rolls into a station of your choice, from where a person can be the focal point and assert their own dominance. And virtually everyone does it, (needless to add for those who know me) myself included.

I don't say this to sound profound, because there's nothing profound about what I'm saying, and everyone is already aware of how nearly everyone will, at some point, try and dominate/hijack a conversation. I only mention it because I recently had a wonderful conversation with a genuinely selfless talker and their influence gradually made me less and less selfish until we were both swimming in a sea of ecstatic no-you-go-firsts and wow-that's-interesting-tell-me-mores that glided by with no self-conscious effort on either side. I made a post a while ago about how exhausting small talk is. But it doesn't have to be. Find those people who make it easy and selfless, and treasure them.

Tuesday 3 January 2012

Realistic New Year

Traditionally the time for short-term resolution and determination, the new year buzz is an easy target for a degraded cynic. There's fat people pretending they'll lose weight, skinny celebrities pretending they'll gain it, and all manner of exciting physical and mental challenges set by people drunk on the excesses of the festive season.

But, as much as I love an easy target which reduces the need to fully exercise my brain or acerbic facetiousness, it must be considered at least somewhat admirable that people acknowledge an area in themselves that they wish to change and thus resolve to change it. Certainly it's more worthy than the complacency which allows the person completely devoid of self-criticism to sustain themselves.

So, where do I go from here, having acknowledged that self-improvement isn't necessarily worthy of disdain? I go to the next easy target I can find - the emotionally frail and easily suggestible.

I recently read this blog post - 30 Things To Stop Doing To Yourself (opens in new window) - and unlike anything I've ever written, it appears to be uplifting and popular. Although published in early December, it's exactly the sort of the post-Christmas platitudinous tough love that we all crave - a handy list of the most essential self-improvements.

The problem with it, and similar lists, is that its resolutions are impractical, unmeasurable, facile and occasionally downright wrong:

Here a few examples:

3 - Stop Lying To Yourself
5 - Stop Trying To Be Someone You're Not
These two fall under the facile category because they fundamentally misunderstand basic human nature, which consists very significantly and vitally of self-delusion. People need to be shielded from themselves because it's a way of protecting their mental state from the harsh reality of the mess they really are. Number 3's paragraph actually says that the one person you can't lie to is yourself, which is patently bullshit. Confabulation is a recognised trait that everyone displays, for example when creating fictional narratives to explain actions they've taken or trying to explain the origin of emotional states that the person is completely clueless about.

No. 5 undermines the rest of the list because you'd have to be someone you're not in order to make changes to yourself. If I want to "stop being ungrateful" (no. 30), I have to act like a more grateful person, repressing the feelings of ungratefulness that are my more natural state, and forcibly change myself, suppressing the person I truly am.

20 - Stop Wasting Time Explaining Yourself To Others
28 - Stop Trying To Be Everything To Everyone
The first one here is both vague and dangerous.  Down the path of refusing to explain yourself lies arrogance and a refusal to confront one's own shortcomings. Its failure is compounded by the accompanying sentence: "Just do what you know in your heart is right." How could the author think that encouraging gullible and hapless followers to think "I don't have to explain myself to you. I know in my heart that what I did was right" could ever be a healthy way for people to progress? I'm not sure what the second one even means. Is it a command for people to be more selfish? Less changeable? More apathetic? Perhaps I'm an exceptionally selfish person, but to how many people does no. 28 even apply?

19 - Stop Letting Others Bring You Down To Their Level
Ah, vague and sort-of hard to disagree with. Platitudinous bliss. How many people who are routinely brought down to others' levels (however that's assessed) only do so because they haven't realised that it's probably not a good thing? Will someone read this and say "Hmm... ordinarily I'd feel comfortable degrading myself and lowering myself to the same level as 'others', but now this short sentence has directed me down a new path"? There's no accompanying practical explanation, just a second sentence restating the first in different words.

I won't go on, because this post is already so long that no one will read it, or even credibly suggest they have read it. I could write anything here and it'll never be read. So, down here, after everyone's lost interest, I'm going to bury the bit where I agree with the list:

17 - Stop Complaining And Feeling Sorry For Yourself 
26 - Stop Blaming Others For Your Troubles
Although, as before, these two are inadequately explained, they are useful if followed. So, how does one follow them properly? I've no idea, but then I'm not claiming to offer "PRACTICAL TIPS FOR PRODUCTIVE LIVING" as the author of "30 Things To Stop Doing To Yourself" is. My own modest contribution is to argue that one of the first steps towards any self-improvement is to acknowledge that one is the main agent for change in one's life and thus to take responsibility for yourself (no. 26). That's not to say that you shouldn't feel angry and resentful towards the people who've helped cause your troubles (and who would argue that it's possible to repress those feelings anyway?). But anyway, such a nuance is impossible when one glibly makes a list of short commands all beginning with "Stop".

Regarding no. 17, I would agree that self-pitying is damaging. I would argue this because it stops people from progressing practically or emotionally. It's so easily written and so much harder to achieve. But that's because you can't read a short list of desirable areas of self-improvement and expect to actually achieve anything by doing so. To quote Lisa Simpson (which is how all powerful paragraph-ending sentences start), "Self-improvement can be achieved but not with a quick fix. It's a long, arduous journey of personal... discovery."

As I stroll into the grey areas of hypocrisy, I'm rather disgusted at my own glibness here. I've tentatively agreed with 2 of the author's points and have written two medium-length paragraphs about why and I still feel as though this has been very inadequately explained or explored. I've no idea how the original author can reel off 30 sentences and expect them to be read as "practical" self-help. But then many people have commented positively on what he's written, so what the fuck do I know?