The thirst of many honesties (hah, so punny, get it?)

Dear blog, I made a fool of myself in class. True, this is a common occurrence, but I am hardly bothered by it.

I pretended to be some sleazy salesgirl (although not as bad as those Cricket Baby girls)  trying to sell rubber tubing to companies other than medical/industrial ones.

So our professor said to take risks. To be honest, she’s right. To be honest, the other students, the ones who want to play it safe, who posted replies in their blogs that when they do something not by-the-book they get scolded, and so they rather not take such a risk…are not wrong either. The problem, is that they’re not doing something different. They’re just taking the prescription wrong.

But enough of us will have bosses who make ridiculous demands of us. Yes, make an awesome PowerPoint in 5 minutes.  Impossible task that will likely result in failure. I treat this as prep. Hell, I did have a supervisor that made crazy demands of me this past summer. But I knew I wouldn’t get fired, because even if I couldn’t read her mind, I was one of the best, if not the best graphic designer intern they’ve had thus far. I know that my grade does not depend on the amount of scolding. So in way, I’m not worried about it. I calculate my risks. But I still take them.

I’d rather beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.

A personal motto, I suppose.

Thing is, I figured that for this class, unlike any other class, risks, no matter how foolish, would be rewarded in some fashion or another.  I mean, for this class, we were totally encouraged to take risks. Make the environment our own. There’s playing it safe, and there’s playing it scared. Again, what’s the worse that can happen? Some scolding? Pft. Whatever. No one can scold you better than your own family. So really, no one scares me in that respect. Sure, I don’t bite the hand that feeds me, gives me my grade, and gives me a paycheck. That doesn’t mean I sit in wait for the next command.

Dear blog, what makes a better blog? The blog on politics and culture, or the one…that..tells my story?

Look Ma, no spellin’!

I think a fun and meditative exercise would be to occasionally turn off our spellchecks and just type to see how many mistakes we make and how many words we forgot to spell because we do not need to retain this information anymore.

Maybe that’s too pretentious.

I’m just thinking of “Feed,” the book.

Is it really necessary for us to know how to spell? Oldschool humans used to have big heads in order to remember all the twists and turns of roads, but once we began to label and own, we no longer had to retain such chunks of information.

What it seems to boil down for me is that we no longer need to memorize information. All we need to know is how to find the information, if we should ever need it.

Many more animals will go extinct, but does language, spelling, other crafts risk extinction as well?

The Feed book is terrifying me a good bit.

Sometimes I hate taking these classes. Reading these books that crawl under my skin and give me nightmares. Maybe I am being too sensitive, and considering my pseudo-technofetishism, I should be embracing this molding with machine. Yet, I am deeply scared. I’m scared of becoming easily marketed to.

I’m scared of becoming stupid and submissive. I’m scared of becoming Soylent Green ™!

I wonder what would be lost? Sanskrit is a dead language. What’s next? Green? Serbian? Arabic?  Obviously we are all easier to be bought and sold if we communicate the same way. What kind of skills and crafts will suddenly become extinct? Carpentry? Writing? Mowing the lawn? Walking the dog? Flushing the toilet? Cooking for oneself? Close now. Many instant meals. Just mix.

How many things will we be no longer taught how to do because it’s all being done for us. Yet, in order for it to be done for us, we have to buy the thing to do it.

Yet the message is clear. Don’t do it for yourself, let us do it for you. We can do it better. We, being the high-pitched voices of all our life-paraphenalia that live our lives for us. Sim-life, in a way. The reason the voices actually have a particular sound is because I can very clearly hear the high-pitch whine of televisions when they are left on. Although most electronics vibrate, so it would be a mixture of the two. And heat. So if you can, imagine a high-pitched, vibrating, warm and breathy voice.

Does anyone else get the spooks from white noise?

This returns to my rampage on personal education.

Why learn how to learn, when you can be told everything you need to know…except the thirst to know more, to know better, or to know what you want to know. Isn’t that the hardest thing? To know thyself? Isn’t that enlightenment in some fashion? We are our own Sphinxian riddles.

Here Comes the Revolution

Now that the comfort and security of authority, grades, and what must be done and how has set in, I can just feel the students ticking away at how independent they are. Of how happy they are to finally have a class that teaches them that education is, and always will be, be personal.

Now! Finally! THE HERO HAS COME TO SAVE US!! The one professor! The revolution of education!

Oh my! Why have we been so blind? No no! It was forced onto us…it’s just the way the system works! It wasn’t our fault! How could we have rebelled? But now, now we are enlightened!

We can be free from the burdens of spoon-fed education!

We will now take control of our learning!

Just as long as Prof. Dean comes in and tells us what we have to have read by Tuesday.

My, my, aren’t we all little activists?

Once the comfort zone is established we’re all such rule-breakers and individualists!

So what if all it took was to actually read the instructions on the class blog? You know, the ones that point to guidelines, course books, further resources, expectations…The ones that already told us what was to be done.

I may have a daddy complex but this is absurd.

What is going to happen to my country?

All we do is bitch and whine…and then do nothing. How can we ever expect anything to occur if we remain apathetic?

Taking the bull by the horns is gone. It’s animal cruelty don’t you know. No, instead, we remain meek as Hindu cows awaiting slaughter.

The confusion of the first class is a sad reminder of the time when President George W. Bush was informed that America was under attack in 2001, and he resumed reading a children’s book about goats. The video showed his eyes flickering around while a nation waited for him to act. To save. To respond.

Where is the face amidst the chaos? Where is the authority that will set everything right?

Where is my syllabus!? What evah shall I do? I am a southern damsel in distress!

I admit I might be acting a bit harsh, and I may have missed my afternoon nap, but I was truly dissapointed.

In your face

I doubt that faces will become obsolete. Unless we have a truly democratic (democratic in a very rigid, almost proto-Fascist sense that democracy only works if everyone is the same)world in which we modify people’s faces to be one of a set five like in that Twilight Zone episode (although it was only women’s faces that were modified). Faces are different, and the bodies associated with the mugshot remain important.

For instance, why do people still go to concerts? We have the music. We don’t have to deal with other people, moshpits, drinking, smoking, pushing, grabbing…it’s also cheaper as certain concerts can cost $100+. We could easily watch a nice recording of them in the studio if we wanted them to dance and entertain us. But no, we go and crowd and push and deal because, as of now, nothing replaces the face, and its body.

Perhaps, that is only because of acclimation. We’re simply not used to a lack of a human being telling us what to do. We need the face and the body. We’ve always had class that way. Tuesday’s class was an interesting sociological exercise in authority. Why was everyone so content that I was “in charge”?

“If we can confidently assert that the face gives rise to meaning, then what is the nature of this meaning? In other words, if faces communicate something, what is it that they communicate?” (“What Can A Face Do?” Richard Rushton, pp220-221)

Was there something on my face? Was there something in my teeth that somehow gained me a modicum of unwanted (yet not wholly unpleasant) power. No one questioned, in fact, people wanted to make sure that I was a TA, or something else official. Yet, even when I explained there is no hierarchy between them and me, people still would address me, look at me, almost for permission to speak, or even listen to my suggestions. No one had to stay in the class, respond to my questions, or even allow me to speak. After all, in a Hobbesian world, something of my pitiful size would be trumped easily. I hold almost no capital (Bourdieu) and thus, should have had no authority. No one gained anything from allowing me to be an authority figure.

“Ultimately, the face is an instrument whose primary purpose is that of communicating; we cannot dissociate the face of the sender from the system of meaning implied by that face’s messages being sent to a receiver.” (Rushton, 221)

How did I manage to communicate power?

As witnessed in the classroom chaos, if my annoying little face didn’t step up, then the screen would have been ignored. People would have left. I doubt many would have logged onto a classroom real-time chatroom. Personally, I need to gesticulate. It adds a lot to my speech. My ability to persuade my audience is also heightened by my facial expressions, tone, volume (close to 80% of speech is body language (which makes sense because if we read a transcript of a speech we wonder how anyone could be excited by the words)).

In a way, it’s not what you say, but how you say it that matters in face-to-face interactions. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Shouldn’t we be saying and rating on the actual material? “Don’t rate a book by its cover,” is an applicable cliché. While the saying is meant for us to be more open-minded in our judgments, shouldn’t we scrutinize more? Devil Wears Prada has an attractive cover, but the guts are so useless.

This begs the question; since verbal speech is rated on whim and pathos, then is written speech, in a way, more important? If not important, then simply better because it cannot be swayed by pretty clothes, ugly faces, shrill voices… If written speech is so much cleaner, then why do so many blogs sound like shit?

I asked my IT co-workers if they owned blogs. None of the 8 people I asked did. One of them even said that unlike most of the bloggers out there, he knows he has nothing of worth to say, and would rather stay silent (and in a “morally” higher position). Why then are so many, in his and plenty others’ opinion, stupid? Worthless? Don’t enhance anything?

“So this would be a first meaning: the face is a thing that gives rise to meaning. This is, in short, a conception of the face as an object: the face is an object or instrument that indicates something.” (Rushton, 222)

I really like this quote. I enjoy the idea that something so personal as a face is an object, it’s being used for something, but often it is being used by us without our knowledge. Involuntary emotions, reactions. In the beginning of his article, Rushton

Indeed, I remember a while back I was watching an online video (I can’t find the link right now) which had this person that was an FBI or something fancy expert on faces, lies, etc. She was asked to say which person was the most honest. Turned out, that for her, Giuliani, was the most honest politician because when answering a question, his face would have a reaction first, and then he would respond. It was that honest facial reaction that made him more honest than many other politicians (and thus more trustworthy) because he didn’t think of how to react, but just did. This reminds me of the point that Rushton quoted Zizek’s discussion of Hitchhock’s movie Lifeboat (Rushton, 222).

Oh! I can’t help but think of V for Vendetta where the Chancellor communicated with his henchmen by way of a huge screen that only had his face on it. That face had power. When that electronic face screamed, people squirmed and reacted. So what was more important, the message “You messed up!” or the face screaming it? If the henchmen came into the boardroom and encountered a projected screen (similar to one that the class witnessed on Tuesday), would they respect that authority? Would they squirm anyway? I imagine not. I will attempt to add more to this thought later on.

On another note on the importance of the face…

With breakups becoming more and more common over text messages, post-it notes (Sex and the City), and oldschool phone calls (basically any way to avoid actually being in physical person with the “dumpee”)…the reaction is always indignant…Why didn’t so-and-so say it to my face?! Why is that seen as the more honorable thing to do?

Righteous indignation, I’d say. No one likes someone talking behind their back. It’s always “say it to my face.” But why is that so important? Would that change the message? Doubtful. It might even bring on more tears to see our beloved be hateful, or worse, wear the face of indifference to our suffering. Again, is it the message, or the medium (the face) that is more important?

Drawing upon Bernadette Wegenstein and the cliché of the eyes/face being the window(s) to the soul, then we come back to the idea that how something is said is more important than what is actually said.

“The human face is here to be understood as the absolute breakthrough between individuals… The very opacity of the face constitutes for Lévinas a “window” on the other: everything else can lie, but the face cannot. Individuals, when they encounter each other, cannot but react to that.” (“Getting Under the Skin, or, How Faces Have Become Obsolete” Bernadette Wegenstein. pp.231)

I like the line that gazing upon one another’s faces is a “breakthrough” because that is a violent action. Not that I endorse violence, but that to see, recognize and know one another is a painful thing. I wonder if this has anything to do with my British flatmate telling me that making eye contact with someone on the street is also considered rude. It’s penetrating. You’re looking into someone’s soul and, drawing from what I’ve said about the involuntary honesty written on the face, you’re taking something from them that they have not given permission for. We break through each other’s privacy in order to engage. As Wegenstein says, people “cannot but react to that”.

Back to the breakups and rumors.

Does the dumped person want to see the person’s face in order to penetrate/break through and “look into their soul”? Perhaps not to hurt them, but to find something there. Something that could not be written, literally, into the message? (Literally written, hah! Get it? Text messages are written!) This reminds me of, I believe Zizek, who wrote about believing what one sees, rather than what one hears. Are we hoping to believe the medium more? Why would the face tell us more than the message? We don’t want to believe what we’ve heard/read, so we go looking for truth in the visual. (If I had some more time I would link this to a discussion of the visual to the virtual, and go back to TV, and blogs. How do we believe them? What is more real?)

In the end, it’s too early to discount face-to-face interaction.

I guess it’s important to still keep your skin clear and moisturized.

Gosh, some makeup company should totally pay me for advertising space.