It Passed Right Through Me

The only emotion I can say I feel on a regular basis is panic, and the relief from panic. There is too much going on in my life, my head, and in my heart. No other feelings have the ability to catch up. I want to take days off from work not to relax but so I can get everything else done so I have time to relax afterwards. To closely approximate this feeling, spend an hour on the internet without any discernible purpose.

Too much analysis starts at this input-driven ADD. But I think the madness stems from what these glowing distractions supposedly are distracting us from. Our society values nothing but achievement and believes we should sacrifice everything for the longest resume. Even people who take on an alternative lifestyle are only admired for the alternative entryway that it will give them to success and fortune. Whether you are an investment banker or an organic radish farmer you are valued only by the ability of your ideas to generate money as an investment. Kudos to those who give away their art and their work for free, they are heroes, however briefly they survive.

Feel my heartbeat

American Optimism is the new name for my overall world view. It represents a hope for peace and knowledge that does not ignore the selfish needs each of us is undeniably born with. Often, those who believe the world can be totally rid of hunger, war, and repression are labeled dreamers. However, the idea that a home, be it a house or a country, can be perfectly insulated and protected from the “real” world seems to me to be just as delusional. World Peace and The War on Terror occupy the same null space of hopeless hopes. In the argument over gun rights, typically one believes that either banning guns or making them readily available will result in far safer world, with little credit given to the argument that neither creates an ideal safety. The same for nation-building; those who say the government has no place in our lives in America think that it will somehow be able to successfully re-engineer a country like Iraq.

Positive change only comes from a personal politics of kindness, curiosity, and charity. Even those most dangerous to our society can be neutralized if we listen to and help them in a timely way. Helping people is not only a way to make a difference, it is the only way to change the world. Without an evolution of the individual, all else is a hopeless fantasy.

The Dog in the Car

It only took me five extra days to find the best video of 2010:

There are people in the world who don’t have electricity, running water, or access to basic health care. You are watching a video of cats playing in a band, most likely on your work computer. Perspective is good.

Rant about Stanley Fish and Internet Anonymity

Stanley Fish dislikes that the internet is not peer-reviewed, since peer-review is his only source of power, and he has found a creative new way to complain about it in the New York Times. He suggests that we should end “anonymous” posts on the internet by forcing internet service providers to be responsible for them. This is like suing New York City because all the “anonymous” people who throw gum on the street are messing up your expensive loafers. But dammit, Stanley Fish should be able to walk anywhere he damn pleases without looking down:

The idea (which goes back at least as far as Milton’s Areopagitica) is that false and defamatory speech openly published will provoke counter speech and lead to correction; the truth will ultimately prevail. (Justice Louis Brandeis: “Sunshine is the best disinfectant.”) But however likely that happy outcome may be in the world of books and newspapers (and I have always thought it extremely unlikely), the special conditions and powers of the Internet conspire against it and the more likely outcome is the one prophesied by Alexander Pope in the final lines of “The Dunciad”: “Light dies before thy uncreating word . . . / And universal darkness buries all.”

You must be wildly out of touch with how people use the internet to make a statement like that. When I read something outrageous online – for instance, a comment on the above article saying “Stanley Fish was never convicted for murdering those prostitutes, but everyone knows he was the only one with that much frozen salmon,” – I can fact check it immediately on one of the thousands of other websites with information on Stanley Fish. I’d start at Wikipedia, or maybe just google “Stanley Fish kills hooker with salmon” to see what comes up. If I find no evidence, then I’m going to disregard the claim. The beauty of the internet is that even if there is a significant conspiracy to spread a lie about someone, there is going to be a significant and google-able record of people arguing against that claim. The internet loves an argument, and is a better to evaluate the veracity of speech because of it. On the internet, you don’t need to buy a rival newspaper or go to the library to discover when someone is full of shit, because you can bet your ass that someone has already registered StanleyFishsDetractorsAreFullOfShit.com or its close scatological equivalent.

And no, that doesn’t mean you must fact-check every claim you read. First, we are not all researchers, and impact of us not knowing the full truth of Stanley Fish’s life is minimal. We can let these things go either way. Like most people who would care about Stanley Fish, I have a decent eye for specious or malicious factual claims. This intelligent evaluation begins with not believing most negative comments left on New York Times blog posts. The responsibility to debate and preserve the truth falls on readers as much as it falls on writers; both must be intelligent and careful. It’s your responsibility to not step in the gum. Suing internet providers will not encourage intelligence or compassion, but making the internet a free and accessible place for speech and content will.

Your Ride Home

My cynicism teaches me the most. It leads me into mistakes and false assumptions, and when people tell me that everything isn’t as stupid or useless as I think, I learn through error and remember by embarrassment. Today, a girl named Ally sat down next to me near the payphones in the Delta Baggage Claim at JFK. We were sitting on the floor by the only two plugs in the whole place. She was also from Central Florida, and she was very friendly. She was waiting for her friend so they could go to Times Square for New Years’ Eve. I told her immediately how awful I thought it would be, and I could tell she was disappointed I didn’t share her anticipation. She said it was a trip that had been planned before, and cancelled. It meant more than the ball drop.

And I said, aloud, that it was extremely rare to see that many people assembled for a joyous occasion. It might be one of the only secular gatherings of that size in the world. But I had lost Ally’s trust by that time, and she disappeared into her iPod to let me think about what I did wrong.

Wikipedia: Clear-air Turbulence