Posts Tagged class

Date: July 11th, 2011
Cate: dreams

waste of a good ear

There’s been an accident at an all-boys boarding school: one kid runs up the hallway, fist clenched against the side of his head, while dark brown blood seeped between his fingers. He bursts into the bathroom, which is a long open hallway made of porcelain tile, partitioned into stalls by chest-height dividers. The first few stalls are already occupied, so he takes one about halfway down the row. He stands awkwardly high above the trough-style urinal toilet, unzipping in imitation of taking a piss, but slowly pulling his hand away from his ear.

The boys in the stalls around him can’t help but look, everything is open and he’s left behind a trail of red drips on the glassy white tiles. He deliberately tugs a bit and peels away the upper arch of his ear along with a blob of jellied blood. A small stream of fresher looking fluid trickles down his neck, splits across his shoulder and disappears beneath his collar. He looks at the detached wedge of skin and cartilage for a few seconds, then holds it out and lets it fall into the toilet water with a ‘plop.’ He glances around at the other boys, shrugs, and says, “Hey, it’s filtered,” defensively.

At the other end of the room, I’m taking a piss and trying not to be too obvious about watching what he’s doing – I glance down between my feet and see a pinkish stream flow across the toilet trough, then drain away on the other side of my stall. I don’t have to wait long; the boy’s detached ear bobs into view, having made its way to my end of the bathroom facility from where it was dropped. I stoop down and snatch it out of the water before it goes down the drain, holding it below the level of the stall partitions so no one else notices my macabre acquisition. It’s slippery and oily and rubbery, I run my finger along the inside of the ridge, then inspect it: dampness and a bit grit come off onto my fingertip.

Footsteps snap against the tiles, and everyone quickly straightens up and tries to look inconspicuous – the headmaster and disciplinarian saunters down the row of urinal stalls, stopping in front of the one occupied by the boy with only one-and-a-half ears. I don’t stick around to see what happens next.

fast forward to the future:

I’m hanging out with a group of strangers, playing a dungeons and dragons sort of game – but when we start playing, we’re warped into the game itself, and that’s not all; each player has a totem they take with them, something they’ll recognize from the real world, something that doesn’t belong in the fantasy world. My totem is, of course, half of an ear, that I picked back when I was a kid at school.

We press onward into the dungeon, a crumbling labyrinth of aqueducts and stoneworks, rusting chains and softened wooden catwalks. Skeletal remains of ghostly warriors inexplicably populate the murky hallways, and we fight our way through waves of undead until finally we reach the boss – it’s simply a bigger skeleton, much bigger, and with extra arms.

I don’t last long – he sweeps me aside with a giant spiked mace, and I crumpled against the wall, while the rest of my group struggles on.

… and that’s it.

So, this one has easily traceable origins: the kid with the sliced ear comes courtesy of Let Me In, the american remake of swiss vampire film Let The Right One In. The bathroom is just one of those places that’s kind of an architectural fixture in occasional dreams – I think that my concept of public bathrooms (particularly rows of urinals) is some sort of deep-seated childhood thing. Bathrooms in my dreams tend to be cavernous porcelain lined things with open facilities and this constant echoing sound of rushing water and muffled voices. Weird, huh? Anyway. The dungeons and dragons scenario with skeletal badguys is Fable III, and the totem is I N C E P T I O N obviously.

My somewhat morbid interest in my classmate’s severed ear is interesting, since it’s not really something I’d be likely to do in real life, but in the dream it was something I really wanted to do, I think mostly for the thrill of the forbidden nature of the thing.

Date: December 16th, 2008
Cate: society + culture, things to think about

Beyond ‘default’ consumerism

It’s probably fair to say that most people enjoy the taste of meat. A big juicy steak, a rack of honey-glazed ribs, or crispy drumsticks – the thought alone is enough to make you start salivating. Conveniently for modern consumers, there’s ample opportunity to purchase animal products that barely resemble their living, breathing origins; Slices of turkey or chicken breast on a deli sandwich don’t exactly conjure the image of a dead bird. The state of willful ignorance that some people choose regarding animal product consumption is easy to maintain, despite certain animal-rights activists determined shock campaigns to publicize graphic slaughterhouse imagery. These efforts aim to force us to dwell on the consequences of our animal-consumption, reasoning that if we’re sufficiently disgusted and/or taken with empathy for the creatures we’re subjugating we’ll change our behavior. This ‘guilt-trip’ method is cheesy and manipulative, but its abstract goal of raising awareness is a sound one.

In life, we commonly default to holding a certain opinion or view, prompted by a myriad of factors including the culture of all the groups with which we associate ourselves (our family, our neighborhood, our city, our country, our religion, our sexuality, et cetera) and these in turn inform our choice of actions. Without exposure to new concepts, some of which may contradict things we’ve come to assume are indisputable, we’re stuck with those default beliefs, often to our detriment. Social progress is fueled by new ideas, and personal wisdom likewise results from the process of critically examining new information and choosing to incorporate new elements into our existing world-view. What we eat is obviously as much a product of that process as anything else – but sometimes we have trouble giving honest consideration to the viability of anything less then ‘free omnivorism’, the practice of eating whatever you like. We’re familiar with and grudgingly accept the necessity of expanding or limiting your diet for health reasons, but we treat a doctor’s recommendation to avoid steak in order to guard against a heart attack differently from PETA’s recommendation to avoid leather because of the violence surrounding its creation.

The decision to exercise self control concerning what you eat, wear, and use is a difficult one to make, to the point that many people almost refuse to consider it at all – as though their omnivore status were sacred, unimpeachable, and that the thought of anything less then unabridged freedom of food (much less strict veganism) is actually threatening. When asked to justify your animal consumption, it’s easy to get defensive, easy to ridicule the petitioner later around the barbecue with your meat-eating buddies. In addition. Even if you were to declare that from this day forth never more would you touch anything made from an animal, the amount of research and diligence required to maintain this resolution would seem prohibitive. If it were easy to tell which items contained animal products and which were ‘clean’, it’s likely that the indignant ‘I’ll eat whatever I want!’ attitude would persist, despite the removal of the ‘research and diligence’ barrier. So what is it about the subject that gets us so worked up?

Brainstorming reasons that self-assured omnivores would reject a philosophy of less-inclusive dining doesn’t take much imagination: jealous stubbornness, knowing the ‘right’ thing to do but being unable to do it because it’d involve admitting that they’d been doing the ‘wrong’ thing prior; honest hedonism, accepting the reality of the impact of their decisions and choosing their own pleasure over the condition of the animals sacrificed to facilitate those pleasurable experiences; or maybe even a belief in man’s superiority over lower life-forms, possibly outlined through the popular beliefs of the previously-mentioned groups with which they associate themselves. All this, to justify a course of action which undeniably involves the planned creation and subsequent destruction of life, a situation which abstracted would only be found acceptable by sociopaths. Despite this, animal-rights activists face derision and dismissal, and despite their best efforts, only about 3 percent of adults in the United States (as of 2008) have ‘converted’, or chosen to become a vegetarian. On the one hand, it seems strange that such a friendly, environmentally responsible ethos would fail to catch on – on the other, the fact of its lack of general appeal suggests that the afore-mentioned attributes (stubbornness, hedonism, and superiority) are substantially more powerful motivators then ‘environmental responsibility’.

This determination to disregard alternate points of view ‘out of principle’ is not at all a mature one – and possibly sets a dangerous precedent. Once presented with an alternate point of view, critical-thinking individuals are given the choice to reconsider what has been up to this point a (possibly unconscious) acceptance of (default) cultural norms. When faced with our own reasoning for continuing the consumption of animal products, can we really justify our actions? Biologically speaking, we are perfectly capable of maintaining a comfortable existence in an environment untouched by the ‘use’ of animals. Therefore any benefits or drawbacks concerning consumer preferences in this area are in our own heads, and a matter of morality rather then survival. Defining the essential distinction between humans and animals is a tricky task; Life itself is variously defined, somewhat akin to Justice Potter Stewart’s well-known statement of defiance: “I know it when I see it.” Debate over birth control, abortion, capital punishment, and even riot-control or military operations is an indicator of the wide range of opinions people hold on the subject, and it follows that the debate concerning ‘animal rights’ would be just as complex. Inasmuch as everyone would likely agree that animals are ‘alive’, it would be impossible to get them to consense on the definitive ‘rights’ that living bestows.

Once you’ve decided what constitutes a ‘protected’ form of life, there are a couple of common outlooks to explore: An ‘anti-capitalist’ view encourages safe, fair raising and slaughtering of ‘crop’ animals, and seeks to punish companies that ‘torture’ or use ‘creative marketing’ to sell products that are not what they seem; While ‘animal-lovers’ are opposed to the practice of causing harm to animals in general, and lobby for the complete cessation of ‘animal abuse’. Some people have trouble avoiding getting caught up in ‘what it means’ to be a member of whichever group they share an ethos with, and it’s important to keep in mind that your own personal decision to restrict your animal product consumption is distinct from the activism you choose to engage in – that is, whether you ‘preach what your practice’. The reluctance to participate in activities stereotypically associated with a more strict policy on using animals is another stumbling block that potential ‘converts’ encounter, as the decision to accept an ‘identity’ that is casually ridiculed in your culture is a difficult one.

Ultimately, regardless of how you settle on your views concerning the commodification and subsequent consumption of animals, it’s important to remember that in the grand scheme of things, the marketplace decisions of the average person impact the world on roughly the same scale as voting in a national election – it’s a very small drop in a very big bucket, and yet ironically it’s important (and socially responsible) to act as though it did matter. If your goal for changing the way you consume is merely to satisfy your own moral qualms, then you have a responsibility only to yourself to stay ‘on the wagon’, but if your goal involves a fundamental change in the way that the meat industry operates then you’ve got a responsibility to be an activist, and spread your view to others. Alone, your vote counts for little – in a group, you’re at least a little more effective, and as the number of people you’ve convinced to join you in your protest of the cultural acceptability of animal product consumption grows, so does your power to change things.

Whether you decide to limit your animal product usage or not, whether you decide to become an activist or not, it’s important to make an informed, purposeful decision regarding your feelings on the subject, as with any subject. Everyone has a culturally ‘default’ preference concerning animal consumption, but as a mature individual you have a responsibility to ultimately make your own decisions regarding your actions, and to remain open when others share their own views with you.

 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited:

 

Jasper, James. The Art of Moral Protest: Culture, Biography,

and Creativity in Social Movements. University of Chicago Press, 1999.

 

“How Many People Order Vegetarian Meals When Eating Out?” <http://www.vrg.org/journal/vj2008issue3/restaurantpoll.pdf>

The Vegetarian Times “Vegetarianism in America” 2008

 

Justice Potter Stewart, concurring opinion in Jacobellis v. Ohio 378 U.S. 184 (1964)

 

Date: November 25th, 2008
Cate: matt's life, society + culture, things to think about
1 msg

why so boring?

Okay, I have an admission to make. You know how whenever anyone asks me what classes I’m taking this term, my stock reply is “boring classes”? That’s a total lie. My ‘Argumentation and Research’ class is fantastic, almost the perfect class – and it manages to maintain that level of approval in the face of it requiring me to write essays that include MLA citations, topic sentances, and thesis statements. As you know, I’m not a big fan of all that – and yet, it barely detracts from the class overall.

We have had some amazingly cool discussions, especially in the past couple of weeks – we talked about eating choices (omnivores v. everyone else), the implications and repercussions of our ‘war on terror’, and now this week about gender and race in politics. Huge discussions! Really good insight. I can’t remember anything in partcular, but I can’t remember much in particular usually, so that’s not really significant – it’s like putting a bunch of good tasting things together in a pot and cooking them until they turn in to something even tastier: stuff is stewing in my head as a result of the past few class discussions.

The only real distractions from the experience have come from one classmate in particular, who is one of those sort of akward people who is sort of constantly disruptive, offensive, and ignorant, but you get the feeling that he has no idea he’s doing it. Lacking in social graces, I guess you could say – and a certain amount of social grace is integral to being respected as a peer, at least as far as I’m concerned. At first I was getting a little annoyed that people were just putting up with him, and not really correcting him when he would shout stuff out in the middle of an otherwise serious discussion, but now, as of week #8, classmates as well as the instructor herself are starting to call him on it. I think the fact that he’s so vocal and tries so hard to participate indicates that he wants to be included as an equal, but before that happens he’s got to work out how to behave, and in that sort of situations he might resent the constant admonishment, but I can’t imagine that he won’t benefit from it.

It’s interesting – I guess I don’t really get enough chance to make intellectually-stimulating conversations in my typical social interaction, which is weird, considering all the smart people I hand out with. It feels like I’ve been starved for it. Maybe we don’t feel the need to be as confrontational or argumentetive around people who are friends, because we’re afraid that we might lose some of that friendship – whereas around strangers, there’s less to hold you back.  I’ve also noticed, on a somewhat personal though probably intriguing note, sexuality notwithstanding, I actually start feeling more attracted to girls if they’re smart and arguing with me – what does that mean, I wonder? Something to think about, for sure.