So I just read Marco's post about the Sustainability referendum on campus. I was reminded of a thought I had, maybe yesterday in class, but at any rate very recently in regards to the improvement of student and faculty participation in recycling and other sustainability causes on campus. My thought was this:
Convincing people that recycling is important through preaching is a real pain in the ass, and in the grand scheme I think it's pretty ineffective. Merely telling people that "recycling is important" does not provide enough incentive for people to change their existing behavior. Throwing away recyclables, littering - these are all behaviors that can be modified, but behavior modification tends to only result after some kind of reinforcement, be it negative or positive. Therefore, I thought of a program (yes, a program, contradictory to everything Quinn talks about) that could potentially change people's minds, and thereby their behavior. I thought of a club, or a branch of the Sustainability club, that would be tasked with something incredibly boring but also incredibly important. The members would stand alongside trashcans, which would also strategically be placed near the recycling containers (I think it's pretty damn stupid that they are not put side by side all the time - this seems like an easy way to facilitate the choice of where a disposable ought to do), and the members would essentially act as garbage police. When someone walks by, chucks a Coke bottle in the trash, the garbage police would pluck the bottle out and dispose of it in the appropriate recycling container. Hell, they could even heckle the waster a little if they so desired. If these garbage police were posted up for long enough and became a symbol of "Dispose of this shit correctly!" then the effect might actually be, well, effective. People might potentially begin to associate proper disposal with NOT getting heckled or hairy-eyeballed for chucking their plastics in the wrong bin.
As I am writing this I'm thinking about how 1984 this sounds, so creepy. Having people watch and correct your every wrong move - yeah, sounds a little uncomfortable. But discomfort elicits different behavior, which is what we want.
So, umm, yeah. That was my idea. Cheers.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
It's Not Quite a Doodle
Here's something I wrote in class during Larry Merculieff's second visit. His emotional intelligence inspired something mildly poetic in me. So, here it be - Interpret at your own will.
Hello, my other self. This time I didn't ask for help.
Didn't think I need it. You showed up anyway.
Hello, my other self. I meant to keep you on the shelf.
Didn't want to see you. You showed up anyway.
In the morning, my other self, you'll ask me how that night felt.
Couldn't sleep through the morning, couldn't dream through the day.
In the morning, my other self, you'll ask me if I weathered well.
It's on this face I haven't shaved, that I couldn't save for anyone.
My eros, his name is my other half
Walks
With a hand in the back of my pocket
We lose the path.
Rolled up
Thanatos
Between thum and
Index
Glossary of dreams
Pinch, wake
Up.
Hey! Hey! My other self, I kept you from view.
Didn't know how they'd take you, I fucked it up without your help.
This time, like it always is, it's all on me.
Cracked the bell, just trying to ring clean.
Hello, my other self. This time I didn't ask for help.
Didn't think I need it. You showed up anyway.
Hello, my other self. I meant to keep you on the shelf.
Didn't want to see you. You showed up anyway.
In the morning, my other self, you'll ask me how that night felt.
Couldn't sleep through the morning, couldn't dream through the day.
In the morning, my other self, you'll ask me if I weathered well.
It's on this face I haven't shaved, that I couldn't save for anyone.
My eros, his name is my other half
Walks
With a hand in the back of my pocket
We lose the path.
Rolled up
Thanatos
Between thum and
Index
Glossary of dreams
Pinch, wake
Up.
Hey! Hey! My other self, I kept you from view.
Didn't know how they'd take you, I fucked it up without your help.
This time, like it always is, it's all on me.
Cracked the bell, just trying to ring clean.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Pictures from class!
HERE ARE SOME OF THE PICTURES I TOOK IN CLASS DURING OUR SCAVENGER HUNT.
1) Mother Culture's influence.
2) Signs of wildlife. "Nature"
3) Wildlife in the feathers.
4) Nature fighting back and winning... or at least looking cool.
1) Mother Culture's influence.
2) Signs of wildlife. "Nature"
3) Wildlife in the feathers.
4) Nature fighting back and winning... or at least looking cool.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Piggyback Posting
Okay, so I'm piggybacking off one of Alexa's posts which contained two videos of Quinn explaining his work and elaborating on his critical response. Watching one of the videos I was hugely surprised to hear that Quinn's most controversial topic in any of his work was his synthesis of the laws of ecology (which he referred to as the ABCs thereof) in Ishmael. Of all the really weighty issues he discusses in Ishmael, I feel like this is the most blatantly obvious, not something that would throw people up in arms. Apparently I was wrong about that. So, I had to think about why this would be so upsetting to people. Here is what I have tentatively concluded:
The ABCs of Ecology state that the world's inherent homeostatic system is infallible and always has been, working constatnly to even population and food balances so that neither tanks or explodes at any given time. The system is proprotional, fair, and self-sustaining, playing no favorites to either food availabilities or the life created by this food. Food and life are directly related, which is why for millions of years the system worked perfectly, never overpopulating the planet. There was always the right amount of food to sustain the right amount of life, and when food dwindled, so too did the life, which thereby allowed for more food to replenish, and thereby sustain more life. Highly cyclical stuff, which is why the system is perfect. I think of this system as an external locus of control, in that this is the way the world had worked for eons before agriculture. Agriculture, on the other hand, is an internal locus of control, because humans can manipulate the system from within to produce surplus food and thereby more life. However, here's the crux of my logic - we have chalked up agriculture to be the will of God. Man was set on the Earth and immediately he began to farm. So, the will of God, that's an external locus of control too, because the will to farm is derived from a higher power, something we cannot control from within.
I'm thinking that the reason the laws of ecology are so controversial, especially in their relation to religion, is that replacing the will of God (one external locus of control) with an age-old, infallible biological system (another external locus) forces people to resign God's intention. To diminish his influence. To admit that He didn't really have a Plan. To admit that we have been very, very wrong for a long time.
Now, no one really enjoys facing evidence that contradicts their long-standing schemas about life. No one really likes to get called the Dunce or have their face slapped by the backhand of truth, especially if the truth is obvious. That shit sucks. So, I can now understand why ecology would be such a controversial issue in Quinn's work. For me, this did not prove inflammatory at all, purely because of the kind of liberal, atheistic household I grew up in. But for a great, great deal of other people, I can see why this would be such a BIG DEAL.
The ABCs of Ecology state that the world's inherent homeostatic system is infallible and always has been, working constatnly to even population and food balances so that neither tanks or explodes at any given time. The system is proprotional, fair, and self-sustaining, playing no favorites to either food availabilities or the life created by this food. Food and life are directly related, which is why for millions of years the system worked perfectly, never overpopulating the planet. There was always the right amount of food to sustain the right amount of life, and when food dwindled, so too did the life, which thereby allowed for more food to replenish, and thereby sustain more life. Highly cyclical stuff, which is why the system is perfect. I think of this system as an external locus of control, in that this is the way the world had worked for eons before agriculture. Agriculture, on the other hand, is an internal locus of control, because humans can manipulate the system from within to produce surplus food and thereby more life. However, here's the crux of my logic - we have chalked up agriculture to be the will of God. Man was set on the Earth and immediately he began to farm. So, the will of God, that's an external locus of control too, because the will to farm is derived from a higher power, something we cannot control from within.
I'm thinking that the reason the laws of ecology are so controversial, especially in their relation to religion, is that replacing the will of God (one external locus of control) with an age-old, infallible biological system (another external locus) forces people to resign God's intention. To diminish his influence. To admit that He didn't really have a Plan. To admit that we have been very, very wrong for a long time.
Now, no one really enjoys facing evidence that contradicts their long-standing schemas about life. No one really likes to get called the Dunce or have their face slapped by the backhand of truth, especially if the truth is obvious. That shit sucks. So, I can now understand why ecology would be such a controversial issue in Quinn's work. For me, this did not prove inflammatory at all, purely because of the kind of liberal, atheistic household I grew up in. But for a great, great deal of other people, I can see why this would be such a BIG DEAL.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Aang Waan
I've always found the greeting "What's up," whether inflected as a question or a statement, to be kind of nonsensical. Every culture has idiomatic expressions that don't make sense from an outside perspective, but under some scrutiny they may not even make sense from an inside perspective. I find this to be the case with "What's up?" Asking what is up has become completely acceptable as a greeting or a conduit to small talk, but nonetheless I feel like better greetings exist. Take for example, "Aang Waan." Hello, my other self. That is a pretty profound way of greeting people. Not only do you acknowledge their presence, but also your relationship to them, with them.
On Monday last, I walked out of class in awe of Larry Merculieff. That man, he is brilliant. I've always thought of brilliance as something contigent on advanced thoughts, thoughts inconceivable to my plain vanilla brain, but he suceeded in changing my mind entirely. Perhaps, in this age of infinite information, in which there is so much to process already, brilliance is being able to not think, to unthink... To switch off, in applicable terms considering how many of us walk around strapped with some whirring, girating computerized device that commands our attention. Today, my other self is my Facebook profile, or Twitter tweeter, internet avatar or whatever - not other people. I know a shamefully small amount about Alaska Native for having lived here my whole life, but I would venture to guess that native cultures are collectivist, egalitarian, unlike the Western individualist culture from which I have been constructed. I grew up in the I am me, you are you vein, in which other selves are nonexistent. "It's all on you, it's all about you." Common sentiment where I come from. I never grew up believing that I, and You, We are We. I was never We. I was Me.
I see and hear frequently in pop culture these days shirts that say and soundbytes that announce "I do me." That's cute. No regard for anything but yourself? Awesome. Then I won't care about you in the same way you don't care about me. We shall forever keep our distance from one another. We shall forever not be our other selves. I find that sad, but such is the reality of our cultural dynamic, at least in my generation and probably in subsequent ones as well. But, what I gleaned from Larry's visits to class is that I should make an earnest attempt to zone out from thinking, from stressing about inconsequential shit, from worrying about what is going on, and just be aware. Thinking and awareness, as he explained, are different things, and one is subject to fallacy, the other subject to zen-ness or something more eloquent than that.
Eestaakoon.
On Monday last, I walked out of class in awe of Larry Merculieff. That man, he is brilliant. I've always thought of brilliance as something contigent on advanced thoughts, thoughts inconceivable to my plain vanilla brain, but he suceeded in changing my mind entirely. Perhaps, in this age of infinite information, in which there is so much to process already, brilliance is being able to not think, to unthink... To switch off, in applicable terms considering how many of us walk around strapped with some whirring, girating computerized device that commands our attention. Today, my other self is my Facebook profile, or Twitter tweeter, internet avatar or whatever - not other people. I know a shamefully small amount about Alaska Native for having lived here my whole life, but I would venture to guess that native cultures are collectivist, egalitarian, unlike the Western individualist culture from which I have been constructed. I grew up in the I am me, you are you vein, in which other selves are nonexistent. "It's all on you, it's all about you." Common sentiment where I come from. I never grew up believing that I, and You, We are We. I was never We. I was Me.
I see and hear frequently in pop culture these days shirts that say and soundbytes that announce "I do me." That's cute. No regard for anything but yourself? Awesome. Then I won't care about you in the same way you don't care about me. We shall forever keep our distance from one another. We shall forever not be our other selves. I find that sad, but such is the reality of our cultural dynamic, at least in my generation and probably in subsequent ones as well. But, what I gleaned from Larry's visits to class is that I should make an earnest attempt to zone out from thinking, from stressing about inconsequential shit, from worrying about what is going on, and just be aware. Thinking and awareness, as he explained, are different things, and one is subject to fallacy, the other subject to zen-ness or something more eloquent than that.
Eestaakoon.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
You Eat, Therefore You Are.
This post is coming to you on a Saturday afternoon at 2 PM. I woke up not even 30 minutes ago. This is what Spring Break does to me. Any break really - Christmas, Summer, Thanksgiving, even friggin' Presidents' Day. It's really easy to fall off the bandwagon of regular sleeping hours and meal times when there are no pressing matters at hand. No class at 10? Sleep till 2. As great as that sounds, I really, really hate it. Not so much because holidays throw off my sleeping schedule, but instead because they affect my eating habits. I ALWAYS feel like a fatass during the holidays, no matter how hard I try to combat the fat. For example, I slept for like 12 hours last night, and woke up well past lunch time today. Sleeping all day is not exactly great for your metabolism, as the body slows down its digestion during sleep to store energy. So upon waking and looking at the time today, I new that my body has a right to be displeased.
I am in something of a constant state of reevaluating my eating habits. Starting at about 14 years old I chose to "wisen up" (though I'm not entirely sure who I am quoting there) in regards to my consumption habits. Cut out the fast food and the soda, the processed high-glycemic carbs and machiatos, despite how much I enjoy them all. But the motivation was not really derived from who and how I intended to be through food - it was more about how I wanted to look. Which, in retrospect, was not such a bad motivator. Physical appearance is certainly very compelling. But now, nearly five years later, my attitude about food is different. Food was fuel but also fearful at 14, worrying about what I can and can't eat. Now, food is certainly still fuel, and certainly still some of it ought not to be trusted, but food is also life. I keep perseverating on that old phrase that "You are what you eat." It's totally true! Although I'd never REALLY critically thought about that heuristic, I cannot deny now that it makes total sense.
I'm writing this in the vein of Ishmael, but also, and maybe more prominently in the vein of The Story of B, having just completed it yesterday. The Story of B, in its final chapters gets to the heart of animism and the "Law of Life," which is that the universe has set up bioligical rules to foster life. FOOD. Food is the great proponent of life, considering that everything consumed has an affect on everything thereafter. Because the equation is simple, that F = L (food/life), no surprise comes from the fact that totalitarian agriculture has caused overpopulation, precisely because it has overproduced food supplies. Too much food means too much life, and then too much life results in not enough food unless we continue the totalitarian agriculture. So, you eat, therefore you are. I've been toting this with to the fridge, the table, the drive-thru, the coffee bar, and basically everywhere else where calories can be found. I don't want to be partially-hydrogenated, I don't want to be Monosodium Glutamate. I don't want to be high-glycemic, I don't want to be empty calories. I want to live through food, not get fat and die through it. I feel like this is highly relevant for Americans, considering that much of our food contains mystery chemicals X, Y, and Z. Anyway, once again the old wisdom prevails.
I am in something of a constant state of reevaluating my eating habits. Starting at about 14 years old I chose to "wisen up" (though I'm not entirely sure who I am quoting there) in regards to my consumption habits. Cut out the fast food and the soda, the processed high-glycemic carbs and machiatos, despite how much I enjoy them all. But the motivation was not really derived from who and how I intended to be through food - it was more about how I wanted to look. Which, in retrospect, was not such a bad motivator. Physical appearance is certainly very compelling. But now, nearly five years later, my attitude about food is different. Food was fuel but also fearful at 14, worrying about what I can and can't eat. Now, food is certainly still fuel, and certainly still some of it ought not to be trusted, but food is also life. I keep perseverating on that old phrase that "You are what you eat." It's totally true! Although I'd never REALLY critically thought about that heuristic, I cannot deny now that it makes total sense.
I'm writing this in the vein of Ishmael, but also, and maybe more prominently in the vein of The Story of B, having just completed it yesterday. The Story of B, in its final chapters gets to the heart of animism and the "Law of Life," which is that the universe has set up bioligical rules to foster life. FOOD. Food is the great proponent of life, considering that everything consumed has an affect on everything thereafter. Because the equation is simple, that F = L (food/life), no surprise comes from the fact that totalitarian agriculture has caused overpopulation, precisely because it has overproduced food supplies. Too much food means too much life, and then too much life results in not enough food unless we continue the totalitarian agriculture. So, you eat, therefore you are. I've been toting this with to the fridge, the table, the drive-thru, the coffee bar, and basically everywhere else where calories can be found. I don't want to be partially-hydrogenated, I don't want to be Monosodium Glutamate. I don't want to be high-glycemic, I don't want to be empty calories. I want to live through food, not get fat and die through it. I feel like this is highly relevant for Americans, considering that much of our food contains mystery chemicals X, Y, and Z. Anyway, once again the old wisdom prevails.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Disclaimer: This Will Seem Irrelevant. Read On.
This weekend, I got my heart shat on. I mean unabridged, full-on heart break. Thursday night I stood in the snow with the girl I thought of as my "big love" (I have a hierarchy of loves in my life, the biggest being the one I fell hardest for, and the one I learned the most about myself from being with), and we went our separate ways. The back-handed irony of the whole thing is that all the loves of my life leave for Europe before we can really take off. This one is no different. Ticket to Spain, semesters away. I wouldn't have stopped her for a moment, but damn, I would wait.
I left that moment covered in snow, shaking, walking away like my legs were of lead. My heart hurt like it has never hurt before. I had to sing, I had to drink, I had to distract myself from my pain, my self-contorting lows, as is typical of men everywhere. Run, run from your problems, distract yourself with something else. How I managed to sleep at all is still a wonder to me, but it was only for a few hours. I woke up and knew what I was going to do. Friday, unshaven and sullen I walked into my tattoo parlor. "Bad night, gotta swap my one pain for another," I told her, the counter clerk. I didn't want more ink, I know what that feels like. It hurts, but I needed something novel. Helix in the left ear, please. It's about time I find out what it's like to rock a little metal.
"Deep breath in through your nose, out through your mouth. Ready? Here we go." There it went, sharp and localized, the needle through my ear. So much different than a heart hurting, that's a hurt that resonates everywhere in you, for days. But I exhaled. Zen. Endorphin-stoned. Instantly I felt better. I almost felt good. For a while, I forgot I'd even felt bad at all. I had foiled my lows, escaped from the captivity of my heart break momentarily.
Sound familiar yet? Wednesday's discussion comes to my mind. Humans do a lot of things to escape pain, avoid lows, distract themselves from their captivity. Drugs, screens, crime, one-night stands - they're all getaways. Ishmael describes his subject of expertise as captivity, and that Takers of all generations are captives to their own ways. For this reason, we cling to nicotine and reality TV, to distract us from the lows rather than to bring us to the highs. I'm no different. That's what I needed. A distraction from my lows. And, as far as I'm concerned, it worked. I'm mending, along with my ear.
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