Thursday 6 October 2016

_ _ _ _ Facial hermeneutics _ _ _ _



                             In  the  space  between

                                                                                your glance

                                 and my take on its

meaning

                                  there is a fog of


                                     need-hope/
                                     hope-need:


                              the source of all texts.

Wednesday 21 September 2016

Skidding

Do you remember when
the puddles froze over and
with your grip-worn school shoes
you launched yourself upon that tiny rink?

Skidding, sailing, blurring.
Gliding above the asphalt,
your step smearing into infinity.

And when you first controlled
the wobbling wheel of your bike
and your balance came good
pedalling down the driveway triumphant.

Steering, turning, rolling.
Crunching down the gravel,
your momentum gathering pace.

What about when you first took off
careering down a wave?
You felt the board surge beneath you
and a new rush soared within.

Dropping, bursting, cruising.
Elation in the sea,
your heart pounding with victory.


Douglas Carswell: Two Kinds of Ignorant

A lot of people have been jumping on Douglas Carswell's latest display of ignorance on twitter. Business Insider called the argument 'bizarre', and also published some of the many witty online responses. My thoughts are that as an educator, what concerns me isn't someone not knowing something, (even something that might seem to be fairly basic science). We all have gaps in our knowledge and probably we all have a quite substantial number of incorrect beliefs. In this case, though we may be surprised he doesn't know about the moon's effect on tides, I think those who are berating him for being 'stupid' are missing the point. This isn't his area of expertise. (I don't know what is, but I'd hazard a guess that his specialist subject on Mastermind would be 'The many flaws of Europeans'). For me, the real issue is not that he didn't know, it's his continued insistence on being right even when his error was pointed out, saying that he was 'surprised' that a 'head of science research at a university' would refute his belief.

This isn't directly a post about the theological notions of vincible and invincible ignorance, but about the problem of this kind of 'reinforced' ignorance. Though the Google dictionary defines ignorance as a 'lack of knowledge', there is another modern usage of the word, which may be non-standard, but has become quite widespread, which means, roughly speaking, 'the act of not listening, of ignoring'. (I've heard a number of people call someone 'ignorant', apparently because they were angry at being ignored rather than because they got something wrong). This makes it a particularly vicious kind of character flaw. I call it 'reinforced' ignorance, because the possession of this trait means that not only is someone likely to have many inaccurate beliefs, but they are less likely to be able to change them when presented with new evidence or testimony. In Buddhist philosophy, ignorance (moha) is one of the three kleshas, or 'root poisons' which cloud the mind and lead us to suffering. According to Nyanatiloka Mahathera, it's basically the worst thing in the world"all evil things, and all evil destiny, are really rooted in greed, hate and ignorance; and of these three things ignorance or delusion (moha, avijja) is the chief root and the primary cause of all evil and misery in the world. If there is no more ignorance, there will be no more greed and hatred, no more rebirth, no more suffering."

Whilst that all might seem a bit over the top with respect to this case, I should re-emphasise that it doesn't concern me that Carswell was wrong about some aspect of science. It concerns me that he had the arrogance to question the scientist rather than accepting his mistake. It concerns me that the paranoid attitude of a number of UKIP types who are disparaging about the advice of 'experts seems to be becoming more widespread, along with the rise of conspiracy theories in general. I've always liked that quote from Edith Sitwell: "I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it". In a similar way, I can be patient with Carswell's ignorance, but not his reinforced ignorance. I feel the same way when I encounter students who simply won't learn because of their attitude, not because of any lack of intelligence.

Monday 23 February 2015

Fear, terrorism, whistleblowing, patriotism, authority.

Loyalty to your country can take different forms. It interests me when people say that our grandparents fought the war and lost their lives in service in order to achieve x. This x is variously reckoned to be some notion of freedom (e.g. civil liberties, or freedom of speech), British Values (generally undefined), or the overthrow of fascism. Alternatively, of course, this kind of argument might even be used to argue that the x our grandparents would really have wanted was a world of equality and smiling happy faces.

I think we can most of us agree that political freedom is mostly a very good thing, fascism is mostly a very bad thing, and that equality and joyous smiles are definitely worth digging a trench for. I do not think these arguments are entirely invalid, and I am sure that a good number of those who enlisted to fight against Hitler and Mussolini found their political style highly distasteful. I do wonder, though, whether some of those people fought for less fashionable reasons. Simple social peer pressure, perhaps? Xenophobia, peut-etre? Powerful political propaganda that convinced them that the enemy was immoral and irreligious and that their wives and daughters and cultural values would be at risk, maybe? Possibly an inspiring image of an idyllic green and pleasant land, the land of Keats and Wordsworth and charming country villages and rolling hills. Perhaps many men fought with a sense of pride or even arrogance, confidently striding out to defend what was formerly the largest empire in history and the land of the world leaders of 19th century innovation and progress. The land of Brunel, Watt and Darby.

Inculcating a sense of pride in one's own country is seen as an important part of education all over the world. Western liberals, however, have increasingly questioned the traditional narratives of our own history, and those on the left, in particular, have sought to expose the evils within, rather than uniting the country against an external enemy. Nowadays, our children are allowed to learn that actually, you know, maybe the empire wasn't entirely a wonderful idea from the perspective of those millions and millions of people who were subjugated, sold into slavery, or whose resources were commandeered for the emerging global market. The industrial revolution can be evaluated by students, and their teachers are allowed to suggest that perhaps it wasn't so wonderful for the children upon whose labour it (perhaps) depended. They can read sources and discuss whether the 'Tolpuddle Martyrs' were terrorists, or heroes, and perhaps they might learn of the terrible conditions for those who faced 'transportation' to Australia for 'political crimes' such as trade unionism.

There are some who feel that this kind of liberal claptrap is doing us no good. It's undermining the national spirit, by jove! They may not wish to defend these particular aspects of our past, I suppose, but they will perhaps argue that there is too much focus on these things, or that the history has become skewed the other way - all too ready to put ourselves down, we British have allowed the curriculum to work against us. The vital gel of patriotism has been lost, and our communities no longer will grow up with the determination to be strong, to be great, to be the best, to be happy. It was much better when everyone agreed that we were brilliant, and that people born elsewhere weren't as good. If we can all agree that German Nazis, or the spread of Soviet communism, or Islamic fundamentalists or secretive international financiers pose us a most immediate threat, then there is a certain sense of purpose and meaning gained in working together to destroy the threat. Nationalism thrives in such a context and along with it a tendency towards a distorted idea of those humans defined as opposed to us, and a willing ignorance about our own flaws.

The key here is that it was the threat that provided the path to a simplistic ideology of a purposeful and driven people. An analogy can be drawn with the effects of adrenaline on the human body: the hormone shuts down unnecessary processes and becomes an efficient machine for a fight or flight response - primed to deal with aggression, and to respond with aggression.

The thing about this kind of patriotism, is that as a system of thought, it doesn't easily tolerate criticism. As a matter of pragmatism, once the fear's adrenaline-like effects are established, the truth of the claims become unimportant. Maintaining the narrative becomes imperative. If people show that they don't wholeheartedly believe in our country, they are a threat. Once the balloon of national pride is inflated, dissenting voices become needles that need to be blunted for the sake of the hot air.

Governments, of course, have appropriated this mechanism for their ends. The USA, most obviously, with its flag-waving, fireworks on independence day, pledge of allegiance, and gun-toting survivalists. Manifest destiny, McCarthyism, reactions to 9/11 ... the religious right packages it all up nicely with your duty to God to boot.

The UK has done so, though perhaps in a more tempered way: our love of the underdog is at odds with it. Even if some faults in our past are accepted, the wonderful traits we have, and our ability to produce Shakespeare, the NHS and Tim Berners-Lee is held to outweigh the apparent genius we possessed for sailing big boats into new harbours and then trading on the misery of other tribes who we patronised and indentured.

In cases such as Watergate, Profumo, Enron, etc., leaks have widely been seen as good. The free press are feted for exposing corruption. In the internet age, we can openly dissent and find a wealth of resources promoting counter-cultural or anarchistic ideas, breaking taboos, and challenging established  'truths' in science and religion.
But we also now live in an age where our governments have tolerated the concentration camp at Guantanamo Bay. Where we allow these governments to track our every move. Furthermore Assange, Manning, and Snowden, are treated as enemies and traitors, not honourable and brave servants of their country. This, I believe, is a mistake caused by the nationalistic reflex reaction against anything which is said to go against our country's interest. Yet, I wish to argue, what is truly in our country's interest is to maintain the freedom to publish information which challenges the ills within our political and economic system. If you really want to be loyal to your country, you should fight corruption, injustice and dishonesty within it, and not just engage in wars against the perceived evils of other lands.

El Olvido y el Polvo (A poem inspired by 2 plays and a documentary)

   
    Straight out of a Kundera novel:
    Some kind of national Alzheimer's.
    It's not so much the astronomical lies,
    But the subtle erosion of the facts.
    Don't recall, didn't record,
    What remains?
    Repeat.
    The past is a desert that blooms only in our mind.
    Yet the arid mentality preserves everything.
    And recent souvenirs gather dust.
    Could we sweep the desert with those telescopes?
    Altered surnames
    Under the carpet
    Don't remind us, you're holding us back.
    Don't dig up the past, the builder said to the archaeologist.
    Don't pick at those scabs, the doctor said to the patient.
    Don't stir things up, said the sour cream to the spilt milk.
    Talk about a social canyon, a mental rift,
    When you walk along the same streets as your torturers,
    And women still search for fragments of their sons -
    buried hastily like pre-hispanic traditions.
    Native arts and human rights hidden away in museums
    along with memory itself.
    Skeletons of white stardust interred below our sight.
    We're busy papering over cracks, hiding from the stargaze.
    They're gravedigging for truth.
    The bonds that tie us to the past are tough but we can't see them,
    like cords that hold your hands behind your back.
    Closets full of secrets and unanswered questions.
    Haunted to the bone by history.
    What might turn up, what might turn out?
    In the midden of Pisagua.
    Can such wounds be reconciled? Demanding justice, can we forgive? 
    Witnesses soon will pass away, 
    and perception itself is as ephemeral as a passing wave.
    Will the past ever rest in peace?

Tuesday 25 November 2014

En el norte de Ñuñoa (my first draft of my first poem in Spanish)

En el norte de Ñuñoa,
camino por las calles calladas.
Cada día conociendo más los detalles tranquilos,
conociendo el calor de las esquinas verdes,
y convirtiéndome en las aceras mismas.

Estoy cambiando, paso por paso.
Pisoteo el perfume de las floraciones caídas
inhalando las explosiones añiles de las jacarandas.
Aspiro nuevas tonalidades, una bocanada de pinturas.

En las mañanas me uno al flujo ascendente.
Nos elevamos a los nacimientos del día,
a las fuentes de la corriente diaria,
hacia la cordillera que forma el nido ciudadano.

Aunque entrecierro, mantengo mi cabeza en alto
cuando se libera el cautivo nocturno de su cama montañosa.
Ojos desnudos, con iris abiertos,
me deleito del baño pajizo.

En el descenso facil de la tarde,
fuera de la agresión ruidosa de Vespucio,
escucho los regadores siseando,
rociando una canción de cuna pacificante.

El el norte de Ñuñoa
tenemos nuestro propio mundo
perturbados solo por el sistema de alerta
del equipo de perros
aullando al Universo.


Tuesday 18 November 2014

Santiago, Chile

The brimming heart of this strip of earth
beats so softly, the flow is thick
and its lungs are starved
it strains to grow
and live.

It owes its all to the care of the range
bright strong looming mountains
make a soothing presence
a motherly nest
of grace.