Encontrado en libro de caras.
Caveat: Mysterious Squiggle Jamo
When I went to the museum last weekend, I saw a strange jamo.
<digression>
Most of you will say, what’s a jamo? A jamo is a single letter of the Korean alphabet, which is called hangeul (or hangul, if you don’t like to follow official romanization rules and want to just wing it, transliteration-wise, or hangle, if you’re a 5th grader with a seussian penchant). So, for example, ㅅ is a jamo. Or ㅎ is a jamo – my favorite, because it looks like a little man with a hat. The jamo are gathered together to make blocks (모아쓰기 = gather [and] writing), so ㅎ + ㅏ + ㄴ becomes 한.
</digression>
The jamo I saw was the one on the left in this image:
Which is extracted from this monument of names of deceased soldiers from the Korean war (squiggle jamo found in center):
The mysterious squiggle jamo is not one that is taught when learning Korean, so I wondered what it was. It’s very hard to research. When I tried to take the image above and do a ‘google image search’ I just got pictures of naked people in strange positions – so much for google.
And good luck trying to search a term like “mysterious squiggle jamo” – perhaps now that I’m blogging this, future mystified foreigners will be less stumped.
OK, so, conclusions, after extensive searching? The squiggle jamo is an alternate ‘s’ (i.e. the jamo ㅅ). My friend Curt assured me it was. And I finally found something where the squiggle jamo is clearly transcribed as ㅅ- it’s the cover of an 1880s New Testament (note that in 1880s using hangeul, as opposed to Chinese script, was pretty radical).
The large characters are clearly transcribed below as 예수셩교, with the squiggle jamo in the 셩 (an old spelling of 성 = ‘saint, holy’). So now that I have seen the internet says so, it must be true.
Caveat: Oldschool KRap
KRap is what I call Korean rap. I just like that it comes out that way, I’m not making a value judgment.
What I’m listening to right now.
서태지, “컴백홈” [Come Back Home]. This is from 1995, which in Korean pop musical terms is about 200 years ago. Note how the Cypress Hill-y cadences have carried over into Korean quite well.
Caveat: The Pizza and Bungee Museum
I had some students in my E1 cohort design their own museums today. It went really interestingly.
One girl designed a pizza museum. It had a giant pizza, a meat section, and a vegetables section. And there was the bungee jump – it wasn’t clear how this related to the pizza.
Another girl designed a monkey museum. There was a shy monkey, a happy monkey, a crazy monkey.
A serious boy designed a rather eleborate Goguryeo museum (which he seemed to spell Khoygureo – Goguryeo is the ancient Korean kingdom from before 500 AD). I thought his drawing was the best.
But the most entertaining museum was the Karma museum. The picture wasn’t very good (below). But the girl didn’t say it was a Karma museum. She just set out to describe it, and over time, one realized that the museum was an exact simulacra of our Karma language school – there was a classroom where you could go and watch the E1 kids studying English, for example. I thought it was a little bit like a Borges story – the idea of a map exactly the size of the thing mapped.
Caveat: Suck!
The teacher asked, “What do you think of the Korean hagwon system?”
The student answered, “Suck!”
“Suck? That’s not really a sentence,” the teacher pointed out, ever the stickler for ‘answers in full sentences.’
“It sucks!” the student offered, as a revision on her first answer.
In other news, the doodle at left is the sum total of my notes from the staff meeting on Tuesday.
Caveat: Listless Hint of Fall
I’ve been feeling listless the last few days. Not much energy, despite sleeping more than usual. Perhaps it’s the transition in seasons that one can sort of feel in the air – lower humidity, slightly cooler weather, despite the hurricane (aka typhoon) at the beginning of the week.
What I’m listening to right now.
Röyksopp, “The Girl and the Robot.” The video is kind of weird, and seems to have a strange 80s vibe to it – perhaps it’s the woman’s hairstyle or something.
Caveat: Anti-Occam
"Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler." – Einstein, elaborating on (caveating) Occam's Razor.
I was talking about Occam's Razor in my debate class last month. I should bring this quote from Einstein up. as couterpoint, when we start again after the test-prep period.
– Notes for Korean –
따르다 = pour, fill (e.g. a cup)
Caveat: Problem 63
I was reading a very funny list of speculation regarding Jay-Z’s 99 problems.
As a sample, here is item 63:
Worries about experience of no sense of ‘place’ or ‘home’; feelings of belonging ‘nowhere,’ esp. in regard to American and European cities which lead to a sort of uncanny experience of ‘floating’ and meaninglessness at each house purchased.
I recommend the entire list.
What I’m listening to right now.
Jay-Z, “99 Problems.”
Caveat: la ciudad carga con su otoño
Cada ciudad puede ser otra
Los amorosos son los que abandonan,
son los que cambian, los que olvidan.
– Jaime Sabines
Cada ciudad puede ser otra
cuando el amor la transfigura
cada ciudad puede ser tantas
como amorosos la recorren
el amor pasa por los parques
casi sin verlos amándolos
entre la fiesta de los pájaros
y la homilía de los pinos
cada ciudad puede ser otra
cuando el amor pinta los muros
y de los rostros que atardecen
unos es el rostro del amor
y el amor viene y va y regresa
y la ciudad es el testigo
de sus abrazos y crepúsculos
de sus bonanzas y aguaceros
y si el amor se va y no vuelve
la ciudad carga con su otoño
ya que le quedan sólo el duelo
y las estatuas del amo
– Mario Benedetti
Caveat: Dreaming on the Command Line
I awoke from a frustrating dream.
I had returned to college. I was at the University of Minnesota, but the campus was so radically changed I couldn’t find my way around. The library was a stunning architectural marvel (which can’t be said for any of the U of M libraries I actually spent so much time in). I had to go into a dormitory that resembled Holworthy Hall from my summer at Harvard (1982). I was on a campus tour with my coworkers from Karma. They were making snarky, insulting comments about the university, most of which I felt sympathetic with.
And then I was trying to do some homework for a computer class. I was trying to get linux command lines to work. I’m not sure I really did that while in university – if I did, it would have been VAX/VMS, not linux or unix. But these were definitely linux command lines, because I kept pulling up ‘man’ pages to try to get the flags right.
And that was the rest of the dream. I mean, a really long dream, that mostly consisted of me trying and re-trying variations on command lines to do some kind of compile on a LISP program I was trying to run (well, that part was like my time at the U of M, anyway).
Why am I being revisited by this depressing stuff?
Caveat: Catgroovy Sunday Banality
I went out to lunch with a friend today and we had a kind of Thai fusion food at a restaurant inside the "New Core" mall that's between Jeongbalsan and Madu stations on the subway, here in Ilsan. It wasn't bad, but it left me mostly craving more authentic Thai cuisine. My friend and I decided maybe next time, we could go to the Thai restaurant I remember at the WesternDom mall.
I tried to study Korean today, for a good portion of the day. I'm not feeling very diligent, though.
Supposedly, we're getting another typhoon tomorrow. It looks big on the weather map, but after the last one I'm sceptical. The rain has already started.
I recently discovered some new music that interests me. It seems to be related to (or descended from?) a 90s trend that was called Chicago Swing House, a sort of re-imagining of 30s era swing music combined with contemporary electronica house or club music production styles. One artist that I was liking is called Parov Stelar. And then I was looking for a track to put here on this here blog thingy and I found this wacky amazing dancing guy in his basement.
What I'm listening to right now.
Parov Stelar, "Catgroove."
Caveat: The Snoop Dogg of Science
One of my coworkers showed me this. I need to show my students. It’s pretty funny – there are some well-written nerd-jokes embedded in it, too.
It has given me a kind of brainstorm idea for a “fun” debate class unit: rap battles. I need to pursue this.
Caveat: 서울에 갔다
I went into the city today to buy books and hang out with my friend Peter who lives in Bucheon.
We went to the war memorial museum at Yongsan, and walked over the far west end of Itaewon and went to a middle eastern restaurant there. I ate falafel. The impeding-typhoon sky was very spectacular, so I took some pictures.
Caveat: Not Exactly Hanok
Hanok (한옥) is traditional Korean architecture, e.g. for houses.
I think installation artist Do-Ho Suh has created something that doesn’t quite fit that mold.
Caveat: The Missing Institution
There is a very insightful blogpost over at Bleeding Heart Libertarians about education and teaching reform. I think I agree. Definitely, the idea that teaching is a performance art, and not an academic discipline, strikes me accurate. A good teacher is like a good musician or a talented athlete or actor or a martial artist. A good teacher is not like an intellectual or researcher or typical PhD professor.
Now, as to whether or not I, personally, am a good teacher? I have no idea. I have good days and bad days. I'm not sure. Today, I was correcting a student essay book, and a little second grader who goes by the English name of Lucy wrote, under her essay, "I love Jared teacher." And she drew a picture of a smiling alligator. That made my day.
Caveat: Spagga aka El Presidente de hip-hop
Just now, I received a comment on a youtube video I’d made a few years back to go with a track that I liked, by a New York latin-rap group called Spagga & La Raza, that I hadn’t been able to find online. Here’s what the comment said:
wow…..That was one of the first songs i wrote. Thanks whoever you are for bringing me back to reality!
Spagga
This seems to indicate that the actual artist commented on my youtube piratification of his song, in a positive way. I’m deeply impressed. He’s just acquired a much more dedicated fan. This is the spirit in which I wish all artists would view the youtubification of their work.
What I’m listening to right now.
[UPDATE: myspace is broken (go figure). Unable to find replacement track online. Yay internet.]
Spagga aka El Presidente de Hip-Hop, “la vida.” De su myspace – warning: it opens a new tab or window if you click it. The myspace player is a little bit annoying. But it’s ok.
Caveat: Due Process
"One oddity of the current legal situation remains that the U.S.
government needs some kind of court-approved warrant to intentionally
eavesdrop on the telephone or e-mail of a U.S. citizen suspected of
involvement with Al Qaeda, like Anwar Al-Awlaki. However, using a drone,
a missile, bomb or military raid to intentionally kill that same person
requires no approval from the judicial branch." – Josh Gerstein, in his blog about legal issues.
Talk about understatement.
Meanwhile, despite this (or because of it?) Obama is now at 65% at intrade. The elections market-makers appear to have reached their decision point – only a week ago Obama was under 60% on intrade.
Caveat: Vegetal Cities
There’s an architect in Belgium named Luc Schuiten who has these rather fantastic “concept” cities that are organically shaped and driven. Rather than try to explain – I don’t really understand it anyway, just follow the link. There was a write-up at The Atlantic that led me there – you can look at too. The image below is a “tree house city.”
Caveat: Out of Thyme
I was cooking, after I got home this evening. I was making a sort of fusiony Italian-fried-rice concoction – vegetables and Italian seasoning, to which I add chopped fresh tomatoes and cooked rice. Kind of like veggie-and-pasta but with rice instead of pasta. Some Americans might call it “Spanish rice,” but I have no intention of offending any Spaniards. I was adding the spices: oregano, parsely, coriander, sage, red pepper, black pepper. And then, I reached for the last thing on my mental checklist: “Oh, crap. I’m out of thyme.”
And then I laughed at myself. I felt like a character in Bruce Willis movie, where the bomb was going to go off.
Caveat: Inertial Reboot
What is an inertial reboot? Well, I "rebooted" my contract, yesterday. We had to go and officialize an alteration to my work visa because of the recent (well, two months past) merger between Karma and Woongjin. And because I was being wishy-washy about my future, and because I was "going with the flow" we "rebooted" my contract: Korean teaching contracts are almost universally 1 year long, and mine with Karma was May-to-May, but now it's September-to-September – that means I'm committed until September.
It's really just inertia. I wasn't really thinking of going off and doing something else, come end-of-contract, next May. It's just that it was a rather un-pondered decision. I just did it. This is good in the sense that I'm comfortable enough with how things are to do it. It's bad because I have, in fact, been struggling with feeling like I should be developing some kind of alternate plan for my life. This latter is a consequence of the recent visit back to the US, when more than one person close to me was at least somewhat critical, in one way or another, of my expat lifestyle. That's hard.
Caveat: 설농탕
오늘 원장님과 함께 점심을 먹고 많이 이야기했어요. 우리 둘만이었어요. 설농탕은 맛있으지만 가끔 저를 잘 이해하지 않은 것 같아요.
Caveat: LA Timeless
The Los Angeles Times is the last of the major "metro" US newspaper websites that I frequently visit. I'm a news junkie, as many know, and I used to visit 3 or 4 different newspaper websites, daily. But first the Washington Post, and then the New York Times disappeared behind complex paywalls that, as a relatively impecunious international reader, weren't worth my trouble to overcome. That left, basically, only the LA Times. Perhaps my frequent deletion of cookies prevented me from noticing it, or perhaps they've only changed its implementaion recently, but the LA Times' paywall has been popping up more often, now, too. And the consequence is that basically I quit going there, just as I quit going to the NYT or WP in the past.
I'm not opposed to paying for web content in principle – I consume NPR as a donating "sustaining" member, and I've donated to other websites that use that "donor-based" pay model, where I value the content. But I much prefer the "voluntary donor" model of pay-for-content than the "sneakily block some content while teasing other content" model that has become nearly universal at US newspapers, for example. So my reaction to being repeatedly harrassed by these paywall widgets is to go find my web content elsewhere.
I have no idea if my reaction is anywhere near typical. But my own reaction can't be unique. And my consequential, rather low-key boycott of the paywalled media can't be unique, either. And so I am really not surprised at the sustained, long-term decline of US newspapers. Like Hollywood and the music industry vis-a-vis the pirates, this is really an example where the industry itself, in its retrograde movements to protect its traditional revenue streams, is destroying itself rather than adapting.
Caveat: I am a brief flash, the abstract
Dang if I’m not utterly blown-over-infatuated with this track, at the moment.
I basically have been listening to it all day. More than that, I’ve been reading the lyrics, too – like I would study a new, compelling poem. This is rap/hip-hop at the level of lyric poetry – in my opinion, of course: musical tastes are entirely subjective. But even if you don’t like the track, read the poetry. It’s good. That good, in my opinion: half cinema-noir, half lucid gnostic fantasy, a kind of philosophical dreamscape littered with the detritus of too much living.
What I’m listening to right now.
Doomtree, “Beacon.”
Doomtree is from Minneapolis. There’s an official video that goes with the song, but I don’t actually like the video, so I found a non-official recording with just the album cover for the youtube, above. I would urge you NOT to watch the official video, until after you’ve listened a few times, and read the lyrics, and formed your own opinion about what the song is about – the video cheapens the narrative. It doesn’t fit. I’m very glad I didn’t watch the video the first time I heard the track.
Lyrics.
[Dessa]
I took it for a kiss, but it couldn’t have been, could it?
I see now what it is, we were just biting the same bullet
You called it in the air
it landed it on its edge
when the crowd gathers around
you turn tail
I turn heads
Shavin down the puzzle piece
tryna make a clean fit
Take what is lovely
leave before the rain hits
It’s a heartbreaker for starters, as you age not too much changes
practice doesn’t make perfect, just makes the game more dangerous[Stef]
Start repo
negative sleep nauseous
barf party for sure
intelligent creep stalking awkward
Flush flustered rush for doors
advance fire-plan
handy with the way out
routes explored
Cover catching up
careful with your care
We don’t go there, naw
We keep locks and keys steadily swallowed
never be followed, none of em dare
Channel up your anger leave it here
kindly disappear
Mind your mannerisms
I can’t be flattered back
The patterns the concern
lessons prolly turned to fact
By now you’d surely drown yourself
before you’d help me with this sail
I’m the wind
crossed fingers for the win
Up to ten til they hammer in the very last nail
Challenging like every last stalemate
Deal… with it
No mission ends
Precision lack of friends
Happily recommend nothing to no one, ever[Cecil]
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home[Cecil]
You know your way home?
You gonna be all right?
Yeah, but I had faith that you’d see the light
and ride with me or kiss me goodbye
Now you got me feeding kites into the night sky
Covered them with nightlights – like, did you see the beacon?
I swear I let those kites fly around all weekend, no?
Well someone must have cut the lines or something, no?
Or maybe something, oh, you weren’t looking
…Ok Plan B just panic
run up the stairs and shut the door to the attic and don’t come up for air
until you’re torn from her fabric completely…
and just like magic, you’re all in one piece again
But, I’m nothing like I used to be…
elusive and reclusive
Now I’m just both times a hundred… exclusively
Truthfully, I was blind to the deep end
until that piece of us went and died that weekend[Cecil]
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home
I know, I know
I know, wake up, wake up
But I don’t go there, go there
She knows the way home[Sims]
Then it flashed forward, but I asked for it
Rip out the doubt, I’m way too south
I gulped it up, I laid back
peeling off the layers
the mantra saying “fear can’t stay here – self, see you later”
Fire chakra dissolve to ether
I have to meet her, I know she knows the way
I’ll have to die twice, no novocaine
See the Eye of Horace, I am Osiris
I meet the devil, it ain’t the first time
He kills me quick like I am nothing
Scream St. Peter, I need you now cousin
I see the owls coming, they float me safe
I learn their grace, they help me heal
under stars, peeling off my skin to rid my scars
it’s the first time I am reborn, but I am not me
No identity, and I am finally free< /span>
I am my brother, I am my father
I am the sun, I am the water
I am an ion, I am everything
I am the vapor, a cloud of smoke
I am a cheap laugh, but I get the joke
I am a brief flash, the abstract
I’ve been feeling more creative, lately.
Firstly, I made a rather creative dinner tonight, that came out quite deliciously: a tricolor rotini pasta alfredo with brocolli and cranberry and nutmeg. An unusual combination that I was quite pleased with.
Secondly, I’m trying to draw something every day. I’ve been messing with my pastels. Today, in about 10 minutes, I did the below self-portrait, while listening to this song. So now, every time I see this picture, I will think of this song.
Caveat: Toad Goes Psycho
My students in my E2반 class finished their bowdlerized Wind in the Willows story two weeks ago, and as a final assignment, I told them to write a continuation (sequel) story. It was a kind of creative writing exercise. Their sequels ran the gamut from essentially re-telling the story to horror/sci-fi genre. Here are two notable responses – per my custom, I have transcribed my student writing utterly uncorrected and unedited, only typing exactly what they wrote. It might help for you to become more familiar with the original story – there are free online versions of the text or you can wikithing it for Cliff’s Notes.
The feel-good, retelling-the-story version.
Poor Toad was very unhappy. He wanted ride a car and go out. Toad thought great idea. First, he dug ground, so he get out Toad hall. He saw a fancy car by the side of the road outside a Toad Hall. There was no one in it, so he jumped in, started the engine, and drove off. “Toot! Toot!” he shouted. He rode car far away. Badger came Toad hall, But Toad not stay, so Badger was surprise. “Oh, dear! Toad not hear.” Badger and Rat and Mole looking for Toad. Finally, they found Toad. Toad had accident. So he went to court. Judge said. “You did many bad deeds. So you will go to prison for eighty years.” Badger said, “You are right, Judge, but he crazy and foolish. We take care him.” So Judge, Mole, Badger and Rat thinked about a car. Mole thought great idea. Mole said, “We will make ‘Bump car’. How about you?” Badger said, “That’s great idea.” Rat said, “You are right, I think that is fun.” Judge said, “Me too.” So they made ‘Bump car.'” Toad was very happy. Because he rode Bump car with friend. Toad said. “Toot! Toot!
The psycho-killer-with-a-sci-fi-twist-ending version.
One day the toad try to escape. Toad order a sports car and he crashed it. “freedom!!” Toad said. The Toad was very angry, because the Police and Judge locked in his home “I kill all of people.” Toad said. Toad bought the many weapons. First, Toad kill a Police and Judge. “Ahaaa! What a crazy toad!” Police and Judge said. and Toad kill them. Second he kills all of frenids. and he very very very crazy Toad. When Toad kill all of people, and he was very lonely. So Toad make a print machine and he print the people. Toad was very happy. and he was be done king for Toad hall. When he old he was die. Happy ending!!!
Caveat: Wait, here comes a cowboy
This is a little bit dated, but it’s some serious anti-war stuff. Minneapolitan Sims (of Doomtree Collective) with Crescent Moon, rapping about Iraq.
What I’m listening to right now.
Sims, “Frontline (feat. Crescent Moon).”
Lyrics.
(…thousand miles from home, an American army is fighting for you…He’ll do everything he can to bring peace to our land through the guiding of God’s hand…take action…this message is brought to you as a public service by your department of wealth and helfare…and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea)
[Chorus]
Left right, march to your grave site
They got ’em ready on the front line
Every man, woman, and child
For miles, single file
Take a number and they’ll call you when it comes time
The air feels thick not as thick
As the black smoke blockin’ out the sunshine
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
And I never had a choice when they hold mine[Crescent Moon]
Yo, you put up your pride
They burn, gonna burn it down
You speakin’ your mind
They turn, gonna turn it down
They feed you their lies
You word, spread and learn it now
Live by it (Learn to smile)
Big riots (Burn awhile)
Thank you for savin’ us savages
Godless primates that never had a prayer
Bottom of the food chain
Around where the maggots is
Trippin’ antagonists
Layer by layer (By layer)
Now do we divide or do we divide?
You don’t believe in evolution
Or improvin’ with time
Now you standin’ there
Talkin’ ’bout what’s truly divine
I know right from wrong
Wherein you need a sign from the sky
Back, back to where you all came
Give me every brother back
Lynched in your God’s name
Your lords gold plated on a chain
Mine’s hangin’ from a tree
By his neck in the rain
Shit, I got blood
To watch the trail of tears
Watch a trail of tears
Survived and kept comin’
How’m I supposed to feel
About honorin’ my country
When I’m lookin’ at they killer
Every time I see a 20
What the fuck is he talkin’ ’bout?
You’re so patriotic
I ain’t fightin’ in a war
I don’t believe dyin’ for
Hide behind that sticker on your bumper
You ain’t sendin’ folded up
flags back home to their mothers
You ain’t overseas fightin’
Dyin’ with the others
You would rather send your neighbors
Teachers, cousins, nephews, little brother
Hidin’ in your mansion in the suburbs
Like your God wouldn’t judge you
Sleepin’ under silk covers
‘Bout to reach Vietnam numbers
While your president leads you
In prayer for his brothers
We ’bout to reach Vietnam numbers
Why don’t you go ahead
Say me a prayer while you’re under[Chorus]
Left right, march to your grave site
They got ’em ready on the front line
Every man, woman, and child
For miles, single file
Take a number and they’ll call you when it comes time
The air feels thick not as thick
As the black smoke blockin’ out the sunshine
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
And I never had a choice when they hold mine[Sims]
I believe in the spirit
And the feathered serpent
But never in the curtain
Words sown by a sermon
In the service of your churches
T-t-t-tighten up the wire
Turnin’ t-t-turnin’ citizens to servants
It’s the c-c-c-constant chaotic
F-f-f-fear of Bin Laden
Either him or it’s Saddam
God we hit bottom
Wait, here comes a cowboy
And he’s a hero he promise
Wavin’ crosses, and pistols
And fistfuls of profits
But, there’s blood in your hands
There’s blood in your pockets
Blood fills your goblets
Patriotic gun
With the scum in the office
With no conscience
I hope you choke
On your own broken soul
Oh-overdose your God’s a remote
I know you’re usin’ up the social control
Abusin’ human rights
Cuz your views confused at birth right
And you want me to march
Left right, left death toll
You’ll eat what you said so souls
No, won’t march for your C.E.O.s
I roll with the murder of crows
Flyin’ over the booms
Over the wreckage
And so we go
Why would I waste a mile
In your crooked footsteps?
We don’t see eye to eye
You see me as that prodigal son
But I see I got nowhere to move and nowhere to run
But I see why you got power from day one
From the slaves that you captured
Sell em’ in to hell and tell ’em
To wait for the rapture
To the day we slaves you manufacture
Master, pastor, same hegemony
Subtle demise makes a legitimate plea
Jesus, please save me from the Jesus freaks
There’s vultures in the skies
And there’s solders overseas
Christian’s on a mission
With missiles positioned and ready to launch
‘Til somebody’s ghost is ready to haunt
God love’s America the most
Cuz it gives him what he wants[Chorus]
Left right, march to your grave site
They got ’em ready on the front line
Every man, woman, and child
For miles, single file
Take a number and they’ll call you when it comes time
The air feels thick not as thick
As the black smoke blockin’ out the sunshine
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
And I never had a choice when they hold mine[4x]
Speak up boy they can’t hear your voice
Caveat: free / from man’s ghost
Looking Across the Fields and Watching the Birds Fly
Among the more irritating minor ideas
Of Mr. Homburg during his visits home
To Concord, at the edge of things, was this:
To think away the grass, the trees, the clouds,
Not to transform them into other things,
Is only what the sun does every day,
Until we say to ourselves that there may be
A pensive nature, a mechanical
And slightly detestable operandum, free
From man’s ghost, larger and yet a little like,
Without his literature and without his gods . . .
No doubt we live beyond ourselves in air,
In an element that does not do for us,
so well, that which we do for ourselves, too big,
A thing not planned for imagery or belief,
Not one of the masculine myths we used to make,
A transparency through which the swallow weaves,
Without any form or any sense of form,
What we know in what we see, what we feel in what
We hear, what we are, beyond mystic disputation,
In the tumult of integrations out of the sky,
And what we think, a breathing like the wind,
A moving part of a motion, a discovery
Part of a discovery, a change part of a change,
A sharing of color and being part of it.
The afternoon is visibly a source,
Too wide, too irised, to be more than calm,
Too much like thinking to be less than thought,
Obscurest parent, obscurest patriarch,
A daily majesty of meditation,
That comes and goes in silences of its own.
We think, then as the sun shines or does not.
We think as wind skitters on a pond in a field
Or we put mantles on our words because
The same wind, rising and rising, makes a sound
Like the last muting of winter as it ends.
A new scholar replacing an older one reflects
A moment on this fantasia. He seeks
For a human that can be accounted for.
The spirit comes from the body of the world,
Or so Mr. Homburg thought: the body of a world
Whose blunt laws make an affectation of mind,
The mannerism of nature caught in a glass
And there become a spirit’s mannerism,
A glass as warm with things going as far as they can.
– Wallace Stevens
The picture above is photograph I took at Mad River Beach, Arcata, California, in 1984. I know that it’s appeared on this blog before – sorry for the repetitiveness.
There are no fields, the birds are not flying. But seems to fit anyway.
Caveat: Property is a form of theft
Although I have some sympathy at the ideological level with anarchism, I probably would never be a very good anarchist, because I like rules too much. I'm perfectly happy, most of the time, to live in a semi-fascistic (pseudo-fascistic?) state, like South Korea.
My feelings about Chomsky are conflicted, at best. Most people will say that the guy is a genius in the field of linguistics, but his politics are crazy. I'm perhaps unconventional in that I would be much more likely to appreciate his contributions to politics than his work in linguistics – and I say that as someone with a graduate degree in linguistics. It's not that he hasn't brought genuine insight to linguistics, especially the realm of syntax, but I have always found him to be stunningly hypocritical in his approach to his profession vis-a-vis his approach to politics. His pronouncements and conduct as the "founding father" (those are irony quotes) of modern syntax theory and much of analystical descriptive linguistics are strikingly authoritarian and patriarchal, which is, frankly, unbecoming of a self-proclaimed anarcho-syndicalist.
Having said that, I have strong sympathies to anarcho-syndicalism. I even sometimes will list my political affiliation as "moderate anarcho-syndicalist" which is deliberately ironic – to capture that I have sympathies to it without actually practicing it (i.e. ironic as to say "moderate radical").
Why am I writing about any of this, right now? I ran across a video that was a mash-up of a Chomsky speech from the 1970s and some hip-hop. It made me think about my views of revolutionary politics and of Chomsky in particular.
Do I believe property is a form of theft? Perhaps in the strictly marxian sense, sure: as a philosophical starting point. But it's theft within the framework of a broader social contract that "allows" such theft, and I'm all about contracts and rule-of-law – even in the case of essentially "unjust" laws.
The key to reform must include not just ignoring or protesting unjust laws, which is the fairly typical anarchist-left approach (e.g. Occupy! etc.) but also working hard to create societal consensus about changing unjust laws (a good recent example of that would be the emerging, truly revolutionary, new social consensus with respect to the issue of marriage equality). Most forms of social protest tend to stridently alienate those in opposition (cf. Tea Partiers vs Occupiers) and as such, actually work against building the kind of longer-term societal change that would be of the most benefit. That, in a nutshell, is why I'm not an Occupier despite my ideological proclivities.
Caveat: And Stone And Moonchild
"One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries." – A. A. Milne.
I discovered a poem I had tried to write a few years ago. In a box. In Korea. Forgotten. So I wanted to work on it again. But it's not very good.
What I'm listening to right now.
Cibo Matto, "Stone."
… and …
Cibo Matto, "Moonchild."
Caveat: The Space Emperor Feels Guilty
While I’m proud of what we’ve achieved together, I’m far more mindful of my own failings, knowing exactly what Lincoln meant when he said, “I have been driven to my knees many times by the overwhelming conviction that I had no place else to go.” – Barack Obama, 2012 Nomination Acceptance Speech.
If this is true and sincere, I almost (only almost) could forgive his continuing surrender to the Cheneyesque post-civil-rights security state and his utter failure to roll back the increasingly imperial presidency.
The fact is, what most people like to tout as one of his greatest accomplishments – the assassination of Osama Bin Laden – I tend to view as one of the hugest symptoms of Obama’s surrender to the logic that permitted the Afghanistan and Iraq wars in the first place. Where was that man’s trial? Where was the justice? He was a criminal – why wasn’t he accorded the rights accorded criminals under rule-of-law? What about due process? What about the Geneva Conventions? Surely a New York jury would have convicted him. Bin Laden’s death was Obama’s darkest moment, and I wonder if the above quote might alude to that. I wish I could know that it did – but even so, could he be forgiven? Was Osama’s death anywhere close to as “necessary” as the U.S. Civil War (as suggested by the reference to Lincoln). That implies a rather grandiose self-view.
Caveat: Incompetent Robots Make The Best Teachers
It has been confirmed by research that incompetent robots make the best teachers – see this article at the New Scientist. This seems to make the task of automating my profession less challenging, and it may also explain the success of so many flesh-and-blood teachers, in a rather oblique way.
Well. We shall see.
What I’m listening to right now.
Space Buddha, “Mental Hotline.” Israeli psytrance.
Caveat: 망했다
I have a student who says this one phrase all the time. It seemed to indicate a kind of fatalistic and pained attitude with respect to assignments, tasks, homework, etc., as today when she took a look at a page of “paraphrasing” exercises we were working on and exclaimed “망했다” [mang-haet-da]. Finally, I broke down and asked, what does this mean. She said without pause, “ruin.” This was funny, but I suspected it wasn’t a very good translation.
Some research shows that the underlying verb, 망하다, does include a meaning of “ruin,” as well as “perish, die out, destroy, go bankrupt, crash” as well as “to be ugly, to be unbecoming.” But the googletranslate also gave me a hint when I found one fixed expression where the verb, with a slightly different ending, was translated as “damn.” In an online dictionary, I had found the example phrase “망할지 오랫동안 살아남을지 누가 알겠는가?” which is given with the translation “Who knows if it may sink or swim in the long run?” But the same Korean phrase in googletranslate gives “Long damn that would survive, who knows?” – which is undeniably utter nonsense, like most of googletranslate’s output – but it nevertheless provided that “damn” as a clue.
As a result of this research, combined with the evident usage by my student, I’ve decided that the pragmatics of the phrase are essentially, “Damn!” or perhaps “Crash and burn!” as it was used in certain programming circles I worked in, when some task was essentially impossible.
In any event, I like the phrase. Perhaps I’ll try to be brave and use it at the appropriate moment, sometime.
I finally used another phrase today that I’ve been hearing for ages and understood the pragmatics of, but which intimidated me because of how disconnected its literal meaning was from its pragmatics: 들어가겠습니다. The pragmatics seem to be, “take care,” in the way we use that phrase to say “good bye” in a familiar way. But the literal meaning of the underlying phrasal verb, 들어가다 is “to enter.” How does saying, “[I] will enter” end up meaning “good bye”?
Enter what? I’d like to know. One coworker explained, somewhat brokenly, that there’s an elided, never-stated, “my home” home in the phrase: “I will enter my home now.” I suspect it’s a little bit like Mexicans saying “andale” which literally means “walk on it,” but has the pragmatics of “that’s right,” or even “take care.”
But I used it and everyone just said other similar good-bye noises in an utterly unremarkable way. It works. Language is weird.
Caveat: शिला
There is a philosopher named Justin E. H. Smith whose blog I sometimes read. Lately, he’s been studying Sanskrit, and so he recently wrote a composition in Sanskrit. I can’t read Sanskrit – I studied it for a few weeks a few decades ago, and I can barely even remember how to decipher the writing system. But I can sympathize with and relate to the idea of trying to write an interesting or creative composition in a language one is only just beginning to master – consider a few of the horribly bad and embarrassingly juvenile efforts I’ve made at putting up blog posts in Korean (which I won’t even link to here, because I’m too embarrassed).
But in fact, in reading his translation back to English of his Sanskrit composition, I got to thinking. The composition – his little parable of the stone – is excellent. As is so often the case, operating within very tight constraints can lead to very good writing – in this case, the constraint of working in a language one doesn’t know well. I can’t judge the quality of the Sanskrit – perhaps it’s full of grammatical errors or mis-used vocabulary. But the English version is compelling. I will reproduce it here.
शिला
एकदासित् शिला । एतायाः शिलायाः पदाः न सन्ति स्म, न नेत्रेपि, न श्रवने, न लोमचर्मनम्, न वदनम् । शिला गन्तुं न शक्नोति स्म, प्रानितुं न शक्नोति स्म, खदितुं न शक्नोति स्म, न किं अपि कर्तुं शक्नोति स्म । परन्तु एतायाः शिलायाः जिवात्मन् अस्ति स्म । सातिवाकुशलिन्यासित् । एक्स्मिन् दिने पक्शिनि शिलायायाम् उपविशति स्म । पक्शिनि झटित्यनुभवत् यत् शिला जिवितासित् । सोक्तवति : “भो शिला” इति, “तव किं अभवत् । शिलाः केवलम् अजिवनि वस्तुनि सन्ति” । शिला प्रत्युक्तोवति : “धिक् ! अहं न जानामि किं मम अभवत् । अहं शिलास्मि । गन्तुं न शकनोमि । प्रानितुं न शक्नोमि । खदितुं न शक्नोमि । न किं चित् कर्तुं न शक्नोमि । अहं केवलम् वस्तुवस्मि । मया न जीतव्यम् । न जानामि अपि कुतः अहं विशयः एतायाः कथायाः अस्मि” इति । पक्शिनि उक्तोवति : “तद्विशये चिन्ता मस्तु । गन्तुं नातिव सु्नदरम् अस्ति । अहं च नितरम् बुबुक्शास्मि । तव जीवनम् सुलभम् अस्ति । त्वया केवलम् चिन्तयितव्यम् च ध्यनम् कर्तव्यम् च । भूमिः तव भार्यास्ति । चिन्तनम् तव भोजनम् अस्ति । सुन्दरम् एतत् जिवनम्” इति । एतैः शब्दैः पक्शिनि समुत्पतति स्म । शिला पुन एककिन्यासित् । कुशलिन्यासित् । सा तस्या भार्याम् अलिन्गति स्म च भोजनम् खदति स्म च । भक्शणम् कृत्वा प्रस्वपिति स्म च स्वपनम् पक्शगमस्य विशये करोति स्म च ।
The Stone
Once there was a stone. This stone had no feet, no eyes, no ears, fur, or face. It could not move, could not breath, could not eat, could not do anything at all. But this stone had a soul. It was very unhappy. One day a bird landed on it. The bird immediately sensed that the stone was alive. It said: “Hey, stone! What’s with you? Stones are only non-living things.” The stone replied: “What a pity! I don’t know what’s with me. I am a stone. I cannot move. I cannot breath. I cannot eat. I cannot do anything at all. I am only a thing. It is not for me to live. I do not even know why I am the subject of this story.” The bird said: “Don’t worry about it. Moving is not so wonderful. And I’m always hungry. Your life is easy. You just have to think and meditate. The earth is your wife. Thoughts are your food. What a nice life.” With these words the bird flew away. The stone was again alone. It was happy. It embraced its wife and had a meal. Having eaten, it went to sleep and dreamt of flying.
Caveat: I am ADHD Zombie!
Fifth-grader Junyeol jumped up in the middle of class for no good reason. He does this quite frequently. Sometimes he will make outlandish announcements – most often, in Korean, but occasionally he'll get ambitious and say something in English.
This time, he said the following: "I am ADHD Zombie! So," and he proceeded to mimic a pretty convincing case of severe cerebral palsy, that ended with him simulating a sort of epileptic seizure on the floor. I am NOT kidding.
I was of two minds about this. On the one hand, his disruptions are frequenly annoying. And I was, as usual, growing tired of Junyeol's utter inability to focus. On the other hand, the kid has hilarious comedic talent. Finally, I laughed, and ran out of the room. I brought back my video camera, and after convincing Junyeol to come out from under Hongseop's desk, I said, "I'd like you to do that again."
"Why?" He said, insolently. Korean students say this often, but they mean "What?" They're directly translating the idiomatic Korean "왜?" which literally means "Why" but has the pragmatics of "What" in English.
"The ADHD Zombie thing," I eleaborated.
"So funny!" he commented on his own performance. "OK. One hundred dollar." He held out his hand.
"I'm not going to PAY you for it," I said. I thought about it. It was a pretty good performance. "OK. One dollar," I offered.
"Nooo," Junyeol said, folding his arms stubbornly and looking very serious, sitting back in his seat, finally.
Interestingly, having the video camera present in the room prevented further outbursts from Junyeol for the remainder of the hour. Unfortunately, another student named Jeongyeol decided the simulated epileptic seizure was good schtick, and tried his own version after accidentally falling out of his chair while combatively protesting that he was not, in fact, handicapped. I didn't feel compelled to film it – his version was more pathetic and less over-the-top comedic.