*Transcendental *Logic

M. LeBlanc at Bitch. Ph.D. makes a point I’ve been trying to put words to for a while now, and failing…it concerns the gross feeling I get in my stomach when someone accuses someone else of "playing the [race / gender] card" — an accusation that was common before the US Presidential primaries, but is now absofreakinglutely everywhere.

So, what’s gross about it? Simply this:

"I’ve been astonished at the degree to which "playing the race/gender" card has flourished as a phrase and concept in the conversation about this primary race. I’ve heard it from so many bloggers, pundits, straight-up newscasters, and even some of my personal friends. I want to be as absolutely clear as I can: it’s a bogus concept, and using it makes you part of the problem.

But I’ve never understood what’s so unfair about bringing up race and gender. It’s like those who decry it as card-playing are annoyed by the fact that we all won’t play by their rules of pretending that everything is equal now, since we can all vote and everyone will pay lip service to racism and sexism being Bad. But now that we’ve placated you by agreeing that they’re Bad, how dare you accuse anyone of being racist or sexist? Especially someone who is supposed to be your political ally/friend/co-worker/acquaintance?"

Yup…yup, that’s it exactly. It’s the implication that to point out racism or sexism is to "play dirty", to be somehow unfair.

I think I know why. I think they’re worried because they consider racism and sexism undiscussable. It’s not that they would lose an argument by default as soon as someone accused them of racism or sexism — usually there’s room to argue in those cases, and I’ve seen many that I don’t think actually are racist or sexist, at least not in intent. Even if the statement or whatever is racist or sexist, usually it’s nothing so bad that simply apologizing wouldn’t get rid of it anyway. But no, the problem is that as soon as the topic is turned to include the race or gender issues involved, these good ol’ fashioned "normals" will voluntarily shut down, giving up their argument in favor of saving themselves the embarrassment of talking about ways in which, I’m sure they realize on some level, they might be unintentionally racist or sexist.

So they fear the slapping of the "race card", and the "gender card", not because it’s actually an automatic win for the other guy in their case, but because it forces the conversation onto such an uncomfortable track that they’ll forfeit, and they know it. Racism and sexism have become such loaded words (as M. LeBlanc also points out) that they’re no longer welcome on the conversational table, like a Scrabble piece worth 1,000 points.

What would fix this?

Maybe — this is just an idea — maybe it could be fixed if we took some of the black-and-whiteness out of racism (no pun intended, seriously) and sexism; if we bled them of some of their poison, and forgave at least those of us who really don’t mean it, giving people room to understand, apologize and move on.

How to start? Maybe by admitting to it now and again. If more brave people, in more public conversations, began admitting to their occasionally racist or sexist tendencies, with language like, "But I tend to think less of women who don’t have kids…it’s something my mother taught me; wow, am I being sexist?" or "I blamed a neighbor kid for spray-painting my garage when it wasn’t him at all…he was black, and I totally didn’t realize at the time that I was being racist." Nobody (nobody reasonable, anyway) can look at those statements and deduce that the speaker is OMG! 100%! RACIST! SEXIST PIG! AUGH! –and it pries open some room, at least in that case, to actually have a bit of discussion about whether some of the little things we do are sexist or racist, without treating the words themselves like a banhammer.

I guess what I’m saying is that the next time someone plays the race/gender card, maybe someone else should have the courage to keep betting? The game doesn’t have to end there, and surely, after all this time, it’s not such a scary topic that it can’t ever be discussed openly.

Anyway, the racism and sexism that are still around in the developed world are the kind that will never go away until we can discuss them…so if you really don’t want to "be" racist or sexist, then get the courage to start thinking about the ways in which your actions could be informed by wrong ideas, and admitting to them.
 

Augh, I slept worse yesterday — all darn day — than I have in months. Every nap was some combination of interrupted, late, or impossible. I woke up this morning still feeling like crap, but a 45-minute morning nap seems to have corrected things a bit. ::shudder::

Anyway.

The "Mind Hacks" blog asked Robert Burton, author of the new philosophy book "On Being Certain", to name some underrated things. I love his answers:

——————–

Name three under-rated things.

The beauty of silence.
During last week’s power outage I was stunned by the lovely sense of space that rises up only in the absence of background electrical hum.

Older women and wrinkles.
I prefer history to re-invention, so please don’t push the botox delete button.

Kid speak.
During a recent fireworks show, a four-year-old girl pointed to a brilliant multi-colored pinwheel and said, “Loud flower.” Now that’s real language.

———————

Yup, I completely agree with all of those.

Also, his thoughts on belief seem to be pretty useful, and I love his description (in the same article) of how stating your beliefs as such (rather than saying "I know"), and admitting to uncertainty where you have it, can make the people you’re talking to much more comfortable. I’ve done this consciously for a few years now — it goes along with the whole philosophy-nut trying-to-be-totally-honest thing — and he’s absolutely right. People are generally relieved when they can be part of a conversation that doesn’t require constantly bolstering their feelings and beliefs to make them seem firmer than they are. (Of course, some rather dim individuals will also take the linguistic cue to mean that they must know more than you, because they use the word "know" and you don’t! Fortunately, this doesn’t seem to actually win them many points with anybody else.)

Think I’ll have to get this book! Thanks to Psuke* for the link!

*Yes, to all you polyphaser people, that’s the Psuke Bariah, the other "very first Ubersleeper". She’ll annoy the crap out of you by having many more interesting traits than that, though.

…

Just for fun, here are my "Three under-rated things", too:

1. Concentration. Being completely enmeshed in just one thing, one single point of focus, not an iota of multitasking anywhere; the world disappears. But you don’t.

2. Assholes. As in assholish people: loud-mouths, humbugs, cussers-in-public. They say the things no-one else wants to, are not afraid of bucking authority, and will not change a damn thing to suit your precious feelings. They’re like walking lessons in patience and fortitude; plus, you can’t have a revolution without ‘em.

3. Confusion. That gut-deep feeling of just having no freaking idea, whether it’s trying to make sense of something you’re looking at, being unable to hear how the noise your friend is blasting at you is supposed to be music, or the meaning and direction of your whole life. The feeling of being mentally adrift is uncomfortable at first, but out of it come all the best and wildest possibilities…I used to hate being confused when I felt it all the time; now that I don’t so often, I miss it. The moments when I accepted my confusion have all been some of the best in my life.

This planet, this Universe, produces a hell of a lot of beautiful things.  It would be hard to even vote for one as "Most Beautiful", but if I had to nominate something myself, it would be…insanely creative people.  Insanely creative people just give me soulgasms, not kidding, cheesy made-up word intended.  Now, true insane-creativity can be difficult to distinguish from mere insanity, or worse, mere social posturing a la made-up shit.  But today, I have an example for you, of true, grade-A, wowee zowee, batshit whackaloon genius. 

Ladies and gentlemen…Tom Waits’ press conference.  [very many thanks to matthewgood.org for the link!]

Of course, Matt Good is no slouch in the borderline-crazy borderline-messiah category either…If you’re not sure, check out his proposed cult religion, which has a better plan and tells a better story than Scientology, all in one leaflet-sized rant. 

That’s one of those things you look back on and say, "Hmm, maybe I should have been concerned that it was so easy for me to come up with something like that…?" 

Nice.

So, vacation came and raped my schedule.  And was, I should add, totally worth it.  I got to hang out with some friends I don’t see nearly often enough, and make some new ones besides that are well nigh blindingly cool.  (Seriously.  I don’t mean to brag, because lord knows I don’t know why I run into and end up knowing these jaw-droppingly cool people, but wow.  Just…wow.) 

As with many good vacations, bad habits were formed:  I got used to stellar food, professionally-mixed drinks in the evenings, and smoke-breaks (I quit years ago, but I bring fake ("herbal") cigarettes with me when I visit smokers, to stave off temptation — they’ve no nicotene, but I always get used to taking breaks to smoke them anyway) ~ but, again, completely worth it.

Funny thing is, usually on vacations I sleep a boatload at least once; this time I didn’t.  I was only there a few days and a lot was going on (plus I had asinine amounts of homework to keep up on), so I slept 3, 4.5 and 6 hours at night, taking whatever naps I could during the day .  Which wasn’t many — two max, I think.  And on Flight Out Day, I didn’t get any naps.

And Lo, I Was Wasted.

I got home yesterday and went to bed early — 10 p.m., hoping for 6 hours to cover me until 4 a.m. and leave me somewhat not-zombied at work — but it was not to be.  I got woken up twice, effectively nuking any positive effects of the sleep I did get, and wow, was I a zombie today.  A cranky, pissy, nasty zombie with a half-inch of rotting fuse left.  …Good things can actually come from that, though, in an office.  I don’t think Dumb As Rocks Secretary will be screwing up my phone messages anymore.  ;)

BUT, I have progressively felt better after every nap today.  This is interesting, because I’ve never fallen that far off-schedule and tried to recover with just (on-schedule) naps, without the benefit of a longer sleep to stave off the zombiness.  It’s good to know it works, even if it isn’t much fun.

…And now I’m realizing that the cool-as-shit guy I met who knows how to mix drinks really was being awesome and mixing them extra-light for me, because, lacking any cool bartender-types here, I’ve gone and substituted the drink I’d gotten used to with a full glass of wine, and now I can’t feel my nose.  *sigh*

(Fun fact about me:  I can type a near-flawless 100 WPM no matter how drunk I am.  It’s a stupid superpower, but hey, take what you got, right?)

But I should note, before I stagger off to watch movies and play with my new chainmail supplies (yes, one of my ridiculously cool friends makes chainmail, and is really good at it and is now teaching me), that this vacation was also a gathering of people involved in the Haven project, and wow, we got a lot done, all being in one room like that.  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, considering how insanely perfect our backgrounds and interests are for a project like this, and the fact that I’m probably the dumbest person in that group by 20 IQ points.  But it was amazing, and I really think we’ve got a fantastic idea going here, and now I can’t wait to get more done on it and I’m really wishing I didn’t have all this schoolwork taking up my time…argh!  Somebody talk me out of Uberman!

Oyasuminasai!

pd

Ah, boredom.  If you’re not polyphasic, you’ve probably whiffed it now and again; if you are polyphasic, you’ve learned to hate and fear it as a formidable enemy.  For, even once you’re adjusted, getting good and bored reeeeal late at night can be just icky.  Even if you aren’t physically tired, you’re staring at the clock at 11 p.m. with, say, two hours left until bedtime, and nothing much to do…and sleep just starts to sound nice.  Easy. 

On a personal note (y’know, because the Internet needs more personal notes), I was bored a lot as a child, so boredom has been a nemesis of mine for quite a while.  I have many, many ways around it, but unfortunately I’m human, so sometimes I get stuck with it anyway.  Sometimes, say, it’s late on a Tuesday night and I’m already overexposed to the computer, mom’s got the TV, and a raging case of poison ivy is making it tough to do much of anything else.  (Blessedly it stops at the wrists, so I can type.  …Figures it would find a way to make sure I didn’t need a day off work, though!)

Anyway, at such times, you become glad that you have the Internet to blather at.  Hi, Internet!  I’m bored!  Have a picture!  (It’s part of a foreign sign, courtesy of Engrish.com)

What a wonderful sentiment.  If only!

…In other not-very-newslike-news, someone from the building I work in caught me today and asked why I’m always going to sleep in my car.  I gave the short version, and nothing major happened, but I’ll confess, when he first said something, I was initially terrified.  I’m starting to wonder how long until I run into someone who’s heard of this, and I have to fess up to this being my blog.  o.0

I confess, under such circumstances, I may lie.  Or run away.  There’s a reason the ‘Net and I get along so well:  It lets me shoot my mouth off without coming out of the corner.  Every nerd’s dream.  (Make no mistake, generally I’m very loudmouthed for a nerd, but that’s just because shooting my mouth off is so often the stronger of the two desires.  Here, in Magic Diginonymous Land, I can have both!)

So there, you’ve been warned:  If you ever find me (now I feel like a living version of Where’s Waldo?), just don’t say anything.  Or say something benign, like, "Hey, aren’t you that nerd who used to sit in the back of the really rowdy club in Detroit and take notes while everyone else got their freak on?".  I would happily fess to that.  ;)

Okay, ya’ll have helped me kill enough time now — I can read for the rest, or, worst comes to worst, pull out my sword and reclaim the TV.  I’m almost done with the first episode of the Xenosaga game, darnit, and the suspense is…well, confusing me.  But in a good way.