Getting from A to P

You know how sometimes you hear an argument, which implies some linear correlation, something like if A then B and if B then C and therefore D etc. But as far as you can tell the argument leaves out E, F, G, etc. and somehow just gets to the conclusion P with a kind of magical leap of something unexplained.

Some people refer to that leap as faith. More reason based individuals call the entire process faulty or incomplete logic. Still others come to this blog for entertainment or thoughtful tweaking of their consciousness. There are times when I do enforce the rigors of logic on my process and other times I wander closer to a stream of consciousness flow. Today's its more one than the other.

How long does it take for "the exception" to become "the rule"? And how do you recognize when that happens? -- Patty Paraphrase

Rules are what a functional majority agree on. The exceptions are those occurrences that fall outside of the rule and would disprove the rule but do not happen frequently enough to support changing the rule. Sounds logical right? 

The rule is that we fight a war against drugs and as a weapon in that war we incarcerate individuals who break the rules. The war has never worked. Since 1969 the drug war has been an abject failure. The prisons are overwhelmed with minor drug offenders; over half of all prison inmates are there because of the war on drugs. And over 80% of the citizenry are against the practice. Seems like a good example of a functional majority but the rule remains the exception.

Revolutionaries, guerillas, contras, freedom fighters oppose the reactionary, authoritarian, autocratic power structure. If and when they win and change the rules, they invariably establish a new government that is different but still authoritarian and nearly never populist or freedom loving. Human nature? or is that just another rule . . .

Rule leads to rulers, rule of law, living by the rules and yes, at times, the Golden Rule.

Exception leads to exceptional or perhaps the exceptional leads to the recognition of the exception.

Today's thought: Where in your life are you the exception? Where do you emphasize the exception over the rule? Be happy with those places where you don't follow the crowd and maybe even look for yet another aspect of your life where you would be happier if you left behind another rule and discovered the truly exceptional beyond the madding crowd.

Just to be sure . . .

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One Interpretation or Another

I was reminded today of a story I heard back in the mid-70s when I was in grad school studying for a degree in psychological counseling. One of my instructors back then was a fifty-something woman, who had been practicing clinical therapy for over twenty years. That meant that she was a psychologist back in the mid-50s when most of America though psychology was either witchcraft or outright fraud. Her main thesis in teaching therapeutic technique was to continually remind us that there were many sources of psychological dis-ease and just as many interpretations of the what, when, why and how of a client's issues. Our task, she would remind us, was first to uncover the actual problem and then to assist the client in discovering tools to ease their pain and anxiety.

Here is her story that I was reminded of today.

As a young therapist she was interested in dream interpretation and used a dictionary of dream images to interpret any dreams a client might bring up in a session. At some point she had a 50-something business man coming in for counseling. After a few sessions she asked about his dreams and over the next several weeks, he told her of two what he called dream vignettes.

In the first, he was on a camping trip that he and his now wife had taken while they were dating. The scene was precisely the campground where they had been in Michigan's upper peninsula. In the dream, he was sitting out by the dying campfire, his wife-to-be was already in the tent but he was having trouble with the stem on his air mattress. The mattress was not fully inflated but he could not pull the stem out to add more air. His fingers were not nimble enough to grasp the retracted stem valve.

In a second dream, he was playing basketball with his intramural team from college. Again the scene was just as it had been in real life except that in the dream there was a small group of co-eds in the stands watching the game and the basketball was under-inflated so it was difficult to dribble the ball.

Our young therapist consulted her dream interpretation dictionary and found this entry:

Air:
1. If the air is clear and sunny, success lies ahead.
2. If the air is cloudy, foggy, misty or stormy, then you're not in a clear frame of mind. Perhaps you should postpone making important decisions for a few days.
3. Pumping air into a tire or air mattress implies that your support system (family, friends, colleagues) is weak and needs to be strengthened.

She offered the third interpretation to her client as an clinical intervention. The following day, she was informed by her supervisor that the client had requested another therapist. In particular, he had asked for someone male and more experienced. Being that her supervisor was the only older male in the practice, he offered to take over the client and also to share with her any insights he gained through the therapy about her work with the client.

Several weeks later, while discussing cases, her supervisor asked if she had taken note of the women in her patients dreams. The girlfriend in the tent in the first dream and the co-eds watching the intramural game in the second. She acknowledged that she had made the link with the "air" aspect in both dreams but had not gone any further.

It was then that our young therapist heard for the first time a diagnosis we are all familiar with today and one that you may have already made yourself -- erectile dysfunction.

The point of today's story is simply that there are generally many possible interpretations for images and symbols that substitute in our psyches for the actual cause of our fears and anxieties. Remaining open to possible explanations that lie beyond your own experience is a revealing practice that will potentially tell you more about yourself than you may already know.

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Things Are Not What They Seem

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn't be, it would. You see?

--Alice

About fifteen years ago I was sharing living space with a couple. They had a fight. The first evening one of the couple told me their story and I noticed that she gave herself a lot of the responsibility for the acrimony. The next day I heard from the other partner. I was amazed that they both told nearly the same story. They both were honest about their troubles and took responsibility for their own stuff. Sounds healthy and perhaps it was, but they still broke up.

Earlier this week I heard the guy side of another couple's spat and just this morning I got the gal side. He was very critical of her behavior and nearly as insightful about his own failures relationship-wise. She, on the other hand, made it out to be all his fault and uttered not one word about her own collusion in what for me is a very dysfunctional coupling. I am sure they will stay together and maintain their mutual misery for many years.

The funny bone is not a bone, it is the spot where the ulnar nerve touches the humerus.

I had to do a bit of shopping this week. I really hated it. If something is not short-term consumable and perishable, I don't want it. I am so happy that all the furniture in the Berkeley apartment was already here when I moved in and won't go with me when I depart. I just don't like stuff, you might be say I have an aversion to possession. I may be developing an allergic reaction to consumerism.

A shooting star is not a star, it is a meteorite.

Yesterday, I was walking on Telegraph Ave. near the UC Berkeley campus when I noticed a scruffy and potentially high or drunk young man accosting passersby. Generally speaking such noxious persons tend to avoid me with their act because well ... I am a very large male. But when I got to his sidewalk stage he did indeed jump in my face and say: "Hey, what's up man?" 

In a low and threatening voice, I replied: "Move now!" He stepped aside immediately. Now you might think that was the reaction I expected, but it was not. Urban living has taught me that if such encounters take place, the instigator is beyond consideration for his own physical welfare and will generally persist, which escalates the situation. But that did not happen, he moved and I walked on.

On the way back home, on the other side of Telegraph, I noticed from a block away he was still playing his street theatre game but as came abreast of the scene, I also saw a young woman on my side of the avenue watching intently and taking notes. I walked up to her and said:

"Did you run your little project by a Human Subjects Committee?"

Her shocked expression told me I was right and this was some student experiment in urban culture.

"You didn't think of that did you?"

"Ah, no. But..."

"So you felt it was OK to annoy people and disrupt their pleasant Saturday here in Berkeley for your little .. what psychology project?"

"Urban Anthropology and I guess..."

"OK, here is what you do. Go over there and stop Ratzo before someone kicks his ass. Then write up your report and include our conversation. I assume the point of the assignment was for you to learn something about ethnographic research and if you think about it a bit, you should have gained some insight into the process and your professor will recognize that as well."

I walked away and she scurried across the street to pull the plug on the ill considered, over-staged data collection by artificial confrontation.

A piece of catgut is not from a cat, it is usually made from sheep.

Things are not what they seem, the first appearance deceives many. -- Phaedrus

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From Above the Treetops

I know I promised my new view on the world would not dominate my posts, but sometimes....


First, there is the weather. While I still await a summer of San Francisco fog, which will dramatically alter my eighth floor view; I am already entranced by the drama of storms sweeping or creeping across the Bay. Sometimes a sea level disturbance will force its way through the narrows of the Golden Gate and burst into the open Bay; other times the grey will slowly make views and cities and bridges disappear as a western storm front advances. Today the weather is fickle. Right now the port of Oakland to the south is bathed in sunlight, while the Bay out to the Golden Gate is shrouded in a slush of rain and mist. San Francisco is a dark pop-up silhouette ducking in and out of the overcast.


Or would that be undercast? What I have noticed in my first few weeks up in my aerie is that a lot happens below me. Not only does much of the weather hug the ground but rain storms that fall past you have more character than those that simply fall on you. In addition, there are the birds.


The "average" treetop between my perch and the Bay is about thirty feet high. Here and there a grandmother tree reaches up to double that height and there are a few massive pines off to the north that nearly reach my window height. But I am generally well above the treetops, which means most of the avian activity is below me. Quite a different view looking down rather than looking up.


I am not a 'birder' though I appreciate their unique view on nature. In 1980, I traveled to Antarctica and hung out for most of three weeks with the avid birders. They were the ones who were willing to hike further and stay out in the cold longer, so I absorbed some of their birding culture by osmosis. One thing I have noticed from my new view, the bird identifications books are not as helpful since most of their photos and drawings are from a ground perspective and birds do look very different from above and below. Image trying to identify your friends seeing them only from behind.


There is an interesting flock of mostly white birds that hang out about three blocks west of here. They seem to have a big spreading northern pine as their primary roost. I am going to trek down there the next time they flock. They might just be a kit, a flock or a flight of pigeons. They don't appear to be large enough to be sea gulls, there are a couple of possibilities in the tern family. More information to follow. Signing off from the Berkeley promontory.
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photo credit: birds.org

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Images of Another Time

We have embedded in our consciousness billions of bits of memories and motes of images. Some are pictures of good times, but like all humanoids we have a deep genetic link to the darkside. For those of you old enough to remember, just look at that camo-picture above and you will recognize two of the enduring publicity images from the Vietnam war.

I have mentioned before that I have never read a more compelling book on the Vietnam war than A Bright Shining Lie by Neil Sheehan. The last time I referred to the book, I got an email pointing me to another Vietnam book, but I was just not in a place to engage with that particular slice of history back then. Now the New Times Review of Books has written about two new looks at the war. Apparently, it is time to once again converse with the ghosts of our collective past, at least for me. I will report back on my journey over the next several months.

Not only will I be reading and rereading some of the recent past history of Vietnam and the US involvement there, but I also need to familiarize myself with the current state of affairs in that corner of the planet. I have exceeded to some gentle but ever so compelling pressure and committed to making a journey to Vietnam late this summer.

I invite you to read along with my preparation and eventually the actualization of something I am not yet sure of.
---
art credit: nytimes patrick thomas

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Print Magazines in an Online World

The Atlantic (formerly Atlantic Monthly) is by far my favorite print magazine. I tend to read it several months in arrears but the articles are not meant to have the immediacy of the weekly mags. Besides I now live 2349 miles from my subscription's delivery address. I ran across an article from last summer about the rise and fall of print magazines. The obvious diagnosis is that the internet has made a weekly news obsolete. Faced with that reality, it appears that first Time and now Newsweek have gone through extensive facelifts. According to their own propaganda they are attempting to become high end, in-depth reporting instruments.

It would be unfair to judge the print version by what can be found on their websites, so actually picked up hard copies of both Time and Newsweek; I also got a current copy of The Economist. It seems that what passes for high end these days was basically the type of reporting that launched People magazine back in 1974. Let me give just one example: Time is running a Top 100 Most Influential People of 2010 poll; readers can vote online. Right now, Lady Gaga is in #1 position with the President of the Ultimate Fighting Championship and a Korean figure skater also in the top ten. Obama did not crack the top ten. McCain's blogging daughter made the list, he did not.

High end indeed.

So as not to be completely negative curmudgeon on magazines, I would note that The Atlantic article also pointed out that The Economist has actually made the transition to something that resembles high end, in-depth and relevant. In fact, The Economist subscriptions and sales are up markedly in a market that sees nearly all other print formats declining. I can see why.

The Economist now calls itself a "weekly newspaper" and seeks out stories that literally no one else except obscure internet sites are covering and then they report with professionalism and facts. True, they lean to the right of center economically but there are dashs of social progressivism, particularly when such activity enhances a bottom line.

Personally, I have added The Economist to my weekly reading; though I will admit I don't buy it yet, that's what public libraries are for.

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April Fool's Picture Dump

I simply have too many images in my 'future file', so periodically I sort thru them and toss a dozen or so out. But I thought today a better solution might be to post them here for your perusal and approval.

You may have noticed I have a real thing for color. Bright vivid saturated colours. I are not a black&white guy.

 

. . . and yes, some of the "shrink" does leak through into the images, I still have a portfolio of Jackson Pollacks for some future distorted month of psychology posts.

I like kittens.

I like animals and color.

I like women, animals and color.

I am fond of Antarctic animals.

and then there are just images.

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