Interpretations. Preferences.
Loyal Readers,
I apologize for the recent dearth of entries. Unfortunately, my schedule has not permitted much blogging lately. As the title of this mini-entry indicates, I do not anticipate having time to blog again until the weekend (though I could be wrong). In the meantime, feel free to post a comment or to send me an e-mail message. Cheers!
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 22:44
0 comments
This evening, my wife and I watched a fun documentary regarding UFOs. At first, I anticipated a shallow production full of fast editing, overly dramatic music, and a pro-UFO enthusiast slant. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the producers (a) gave a lot of air time to UFO skeptics and (b) delved a little deeper into some of the epistemological [there's that word again] questions. Here are what I see as some of the issues that tangle up this debate:
I hope that my brief comments help to clear up some of the confusion regarding this fascinating debate. Regardless of where you stand on this issue, I highly recommend that you experience an aesthetic interpretation of these questions by watching Mulder and Scully Fight the Future.
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 23:54
0 comments
I recently received a comment regarding my entry on Wang Chung. The reader said: "Dude, it's an inane, mindless song. They probably just threw in some lines they thought sounded neat or deep." I would like to post my response formally, since (a) the comment raises several important issues, and (b) I'm excited about getting feedback!
In order to judge whether "Everybody Have Fun Tonight" is just an "inane, mindless song," it seems that we at least should—out of fairness—interview Wang Chung in order to ascertain their original intent for the song. Were they just trying to make a catchy tune (and a quick buck)? Or, were they wrestling with deeper, epistemological questions?
If they say that their intention was, indeed, just to write fluff, then we need to deal with a second issue: does their original intent matter? Is the most important question what Wang Chung intended or how the listener responds to—and interprets—the piece? The audience itself can become the object of study (just look at Trekkies or Deadheads).
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 23:44
0 comments
My wife recently obtained a collection titled, Millennium '80s New Wave Party, which contains Wang Chung's "Everybody Have Fun Tonight." One line in the song ("The words we use are strong/They make reality") consistently fascinates and perplexes us: Is Wang Chung arguing that we literally make reality by our language? Does reality not exist at all until we use language (a view with which I would disagree on theological grounds)? Or, are they saying that the only world we know is the one that we "construct" via language (a view with which I would be in partial agreeement)? (In other words: Is Wang Chung making an epistemological, rather than a metaphysical, argument?)
Unfortunately, placing this line into the context of the immediately surrounding lyrics doesn't help much. Before the aforementioned text, we hear: "I'd drive a million miles/To be with you tonight/So if you're feeling low/Turn up your radio," which implies that either (a) the singer is communicating with a loved one long-distance, via radio, or (b) the singer is suggesting that while his loved one awaits his return, she should listen to music in order to alleviate her loneliness. In either case, these lines do not appear connected to any epistemological claims.
Then, we hear the confounding line ("The words we use are strong/They make reality"), followed by "But now the music's on/Oh baby dance with me." This doesn't make sense. Why does Wang Chung make a philosophical claim but then instruct the listener to forget about it and just dance? Are they saying that music and dance are more important than philosophy? If so, then why make any philosophical claims at all?
Perhaps a subsequent line can answer our question: "Rip it up - get the feeling not the word." Perhaps Wang Chung is arguing that while we seemingly make reality with our words, there exists a deeper, "truer" reality based in our feelings. We need to get in touch with those feelings while the world around us, the one imperfectly "made" by our language, falls apart: "On the edge of oblivion/All the world is babylon/And all the love and everyone/A ship of fools sailing on."
How do we get in touch with those feelings? By having fun, by "wang chung." "Wang chung" becomes a verb that is synonymous with celebration, and since the band is named "Wang Chung," then it becomes the epitome of celebration, of connecting with the "feelings" that are the heart of "true" reality. Thus, the most important question: Is Wang Chung enganging in self-idolatry, claiming to be the essence of reality?
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 21:17
3 comments
The journalist Jonathan Rauch recently published a commentary, suggesting that Congress enact legislation similar to Gramm-Rudman, the 80s-era law that sought to decrease deficit spending by "set[ting] declining annual deficit targets and impos[ing] primitive across-the-board cuts ('sequestration'), as needed, to reach the goals." While Gramm-Rudman was regarded as a crude tactic, Rauch argues that such (seemingly) brutal methods are what we need today to curb the ever-increasing explosions of federal spending...occurring under the watch of a Republican Administration and Republican-controlled Congress. To my friends who align themselves with the GOP, I suggest that you (a) hold your politicians accountable, (b) ditch the Republicans and join the Libertarian Party, or (c) not vote!
This got me to thinking about the Balanced Budget Amendment (BBA), an idea which occassionally enters the political scene, only to retreat for a variety of reasons. Should we—out of principle, for it would never pass—try to enact it again? Is it not the only realistic way to rein in deficit spending? Some fiscal conservatives fear that measures like a BBA would guarantee increased taxes, since Members of Congress would fight to protect projects that benefitted their constituents, thus ensuring a steady rate of spending and subsequent, legally-required, tax increases. However, perhaps a brave soul in Congress could push for a "BBA-plus" that would freeze (or lower) tax rates while forcing the feds to balance the books.
I suppose that this will be make me sound like a crank, but demanding a fiscally responsible government should be considered a sensible, rather than radical, idea.
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 19:40
0 comments
A friend of mine forwarded the e-mail questionnaire below. The answers (in bold) refer to my preferences. If you want to procrastinate, copy this, replace my answers with your own, and forward it to all your friends!
Subject: How much do we actually know about our friends?
This is a questionnaire to get to know them better. Read through the comments below about your friend and then make sure you read the instructions at the bottom. Have fun.
Return directions: Now, here's what you're supposed to do...and please do not spoil the fun. Copy (NOT forward) this entire e-mail and paste it onto a new e-mail that you will send. Change all of the answers so that they apply to you.
Put YOUR name in the subject line. Then send this to a whole bunch of people you know INCLUDING the person who sent it to you; the theory is that you will learn a lot of little known facts about those who know you.
Remember to send it back to the person who sent it to you.
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 22:53
0 comments
I have been fascinated by a little train of thought (calling it a "theory" would be too formal) regarding the nature of happiness. (I have discussed this with a few friends and have decided to put my thoughts in writing). At its heart, happiness appears to stem from expectations that are met, while conversely, unhappiness stems from unmet expectations. For example, if I intend to travel to Ecuador and actually make it there, then I am happy (unless another expectation is thwarted); if I am unable to travel to Ecuador, then I am unhappy (unless a positive surprise enters my life — an expectation that I didn't know I had, perhaps?).
Thus, it appears that to increase the possibility of avoiding unhappiness, one should lower his/her expectations. Lower expecations are easier to meet, and thus, provide greater likelihood of satisfaction and subsequent happiness.
One can take this to an extreme, of course, and maintain the simple expectation of metabolism. A person can say that his/her only expectation for any given day is to metabolize, something that we can do while asleep. Thus, if that person accomplishes or experiences anything beyond mere metabolism, then he/she has had a banner day! (While this is an extreme position, I am not saying that it is wrong; in fact, in order to produce happiness with minimal effort, we should opt for this level of expectation.) In addition, please note the following caveats to my train of thought:
I propose that everyone take a crack at living lives of low expecations. Doing so, I hypothesize, would have the dual effect of lessening envy and increasing happiness.
Copyright © 2005, Kevin O'Donovan. All rights reserved.
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 11:42
2 comments
One of my co-workers told me that I should post my reasons for not voting. In response, I have dug up a commentary that I wrote on October 14, 2002, addressing this very question. I did post this online but didn't tell folks about it; I think writing this piece was just a method for me to clarify my thoughts before November 2. With a few minor exceptions, I have reproduced the entire commentary as it was originally posted.
As November 2 draws near, I of course am bombarded by messages from friends, acquaintences, and the mass media, reminding me to go to the polls; informing me of how this election is the "most important in our lifetime"; trying to convince me that in this razor-thin campaign, my one vote "really does matter." Yet, despite some pangs of guilt from all of the mounting social pressure (I am human, after all), I did not register by the October 8th North Carolina deadline. Ultimately, I did not decline to register due to laziness (though I won't deny that played a small part in my decision), but rather, to principle.
I have voted only once in my life: the 1994 mid-term elections that brought in Gingrich & Co., ushering in the so-called Republican "Revolution." I was a sophomore in college and sent in my absentee ballot to my home state of New Mexico. At the time, I was relatively radical—I called myself a Christian Social Anarchist, which begs the question of why I bothered to perpetuate the state's existence by voting—and I remember casting my ballot for the Green Party candidate in the gubernatorial contest (he didn't win).
After '94, I probably wised up to the fact that anarchists, out of principle, shouldn't vote, and I haven't cast a ballot since. Nowadays, I remain a Christian, but I have shed my anarchism for the more moderate ideology of libertarianism. While I share social anarchists' distrust of state power, I do not agree with their critiques of capitalism. Relative to other economic systems, capitalism facilitates greater productivity, innovation, and wealth—including greater wealth for the poor.
Certainly, a libertarian would not vote for either of the two main parties due to any principled stand. Usually, a libertarian vote for a Democratic or Republican candidate is one for the "lesser of two evils." After all, to paraphrase one of my co-workers: These days, the main difference between the two parties is that Democrats favor solvent Big Government, while Republicans favor insolvent Big Government.
Fortunately, despite the stranglehold that the two major parties have on the American political imagination, one still can place a vote for a third party candidate, including the Libertarian nominee (this year, it's Michael Badnarik). While I certainly respect and admire my fellow libertarians who choose to express their beliefs through electoral politics, I must decline for two reasons.
The first is practical. When people say that individual votes don't count, they usually refer to the fact that out of the millions of ballots cast, a single vote is statistically insignificant. This is especially true in our Electoral College; if a given voter's state is solidly in one candidate's camp, then his/her single vote to the contrary is materially meaningless. However, my practical reasoning runs deeper. My individual vote wouldn't count precisely because public policy—in real terms—moves at an agonizingly slow pace. [I have to give credit to a political scientist friend of mine for having described some research that illuminates this point. However, I must admit that I have not read this research myself, nor do I know the authors' names.] As a libertarian, I see only two worthwhile and efficacious functions for the state: a limited national defense (not the bloated, interventionist defense we have now) and a limited judicial system. A vote for either Kerry or Bush would bring me nowhere near my desired public policy outcomes, and a vote for Badnarik—as much as I may like the policies of the Libertarian Party—would serve simply as a protest.
My second reason for not voting is based on principle. In line with my vision for the state, I would not feel right participating in a system that facilitates the growth of state power. While libertarian legal scholars encourage a strict interpretation of the Constitution, one which—they argue—would hold government growth in check, I believe that an even better constitution would limit state functions explicitly to defense and justice—while disallowing any amendment that would increase state size/power. Our current system is far from that ideal. Our elections allow—and even encourage—voters to choose candidates based on (a) who can provide the most goods (e.g., pork-barrel projects, corporate welfare, etc.), (b) who best can infringe upon the rights of "unfavorable" groups (e.g., pot smokers), or (c) both. Since we do not have a constitution that explicitly limits the state to defense and judicial functions—while irrevocably preventing future growth—we now witness campaigns that are electoral free-for-alls: positive rights run amok.
As such, I do not vote. Our system is both inefficient and corrupt, and I call on all libertarians to boycott the vote. Let your true protest be heard!
For another commentary on the virtues of non-voting, see Brian Doherty's excellent piece in Reason Online, published on (when else?) Election Day.
Copyright © 2004-5, Kevin O'Donovan. All rights reserved.
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 20:58
1 comments
One of my co-workers was reading a consumer health site today and decided to check out its "Frequently Asked Questions" (FAQs). It turns out that one of its FAQs was something like "What is an FAQ?" or "What does FAQ stand for?" She found that silly, but I suggested that a reader who was ignorant of the meaning of "FAQ" could click on the link out of curiousity and have his/her question immediately answered.
Another co-worker scoffed at my suggestion, probably believing that I was giving too much credit to the original Web site. However, I persisted and wondered whether there existed an FAQ on FAQs. Questions could include...well..."What is an FAQ?" "How long are FAQs?" Does one need to be licensed in order to write and post an FAQ?" A quick Google search revealed that indeed, there does exist such a reference, published way back in 1997 by a Russ Hersch. Much hilarity ensued, and I had to convince my co-workers that the site was genuine, not just some smart-aleck joke.
It's now past 11:00 PM, and I have just gotten around to reading Mr. Hersch's piece. After the initial silliness of section headings like "Who may write/compile a FAQ?" and "What is the maximum size of a FAQ?" I have to confess that I found Mr. Hersch's piece a fairly interesting contribution to technological history. He was writing at a time when the Internet was becoming more common (especially among college students) but was not yet as seemingly ubiquitous as it is today. Thus, the way he talks about the Internet (with a sense that it was still "new") is both instructive and charming.
More broadly, the most fascinating section of the document concerns the history of the FAQ. Of course, Americans have the habit of taking existing phenomena for granted and not delving into their origins. However, the use of FAQs as a method of information dissemination did not just arise out of thin air but came from real people, solving real communication problems. (You'll have to read more, if you want details.)
Finally, on a more philosophical level, I appreciate Mr. Hersch having taken the time to study and share the FAQ's historical and sociological importance. An FAQ about FAQs is like a blog about blogs: it represents a deep appreciation for—and understanding of—the (seemingly) mundane.
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 23:01
0 comments
Yesterday, Amanda Gardner of HealthDay reported on a recent study regarding the performance of older physicians. Apparently, the study's authors found that the longer a doctor had been out of formal training, the more out-of-step he/she was in terms of current best practices. While those of us who work in health care have long held sneaking suspicions about older doctors, the general public may find these results surprising.
Studies like this hopefully will help to clarify the difference between "knowledge" and "wisdom." The former implies facts, figures, and perhaps abstract ideas and concepts. The latter is a little more ambiguous, implying experience, a greater sensitivity in how to handle delicate matters, and maybe (only maybe) a higher degree of virtue.
While older doctors are perhaps "wiser," due, if nothing else, to their age, both young and old can be knowledgeable. With the exception of very young children, knowledge is basically age-neutral. If a four-year-old tells me that the capital of Mongolia is Ulaanbaatar, and a 40-year-old tells me that it's Detroit, the former is correct (assuming we can believe sources like Wikipedia).
Hopefully, one of the effects of the ever-increasing use of technology in medicine will be the acknowledgement that physicians cannot hold the vast store of medical knowledge in their heads, and that they must refer to external sources. My primary care physician (still a relatively young practitioner) utilizes his computer in the examining room to access medical databases and the Internet. He freely admits his lack of omniscience and told me how, when he was a resident, he had shocked the nurses at his clinic by admitting that he didn't remember the exact schedule for childhood immunizations. He felt that if he had tried to remember it, he eventually would have made a mistake — better just to look up the information when necessary.
Such honesty and humility from a professional—whether young or old—is not only refreshing...it's probably safer.
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 17:14
0 comments
One of the most egregious instances of the abuse of state power comes in the form of corporations or industries that try to rectify their failures in the marketplace with litigation. A recent example is the recent rash of lawsuits against Splenda from competitors, including the Sugar Association. Splenda's detractors argue that its sales pitch, "Made from sugar, so it tastes like sugar," is misleading, giving consumers the impression that it's a natural product (when in fact, it is just another artificial sweetener — a better one, in my view).
The complaint is absurd for two reasons. First, Splenda doesn't claim that it is sugar — only that it tastes like sugar. Anybody who ever studied similes in sixth-grade English should understand that. Second, even if close to half of those in the Center for Science in the Public Interest's survey thought that Splenda was natural, that phenomenon is hardly the manufacturer's fault. Splenda never claimed to be a natural product, and it should not be held at-fault for any misperceptions stemming from the consumer. (Besides, what about the other half of the survey respondents who knew that Splenda was artificial? They clearly were not misled.)
This is just another example of corporations trying to achieve in the courtroom what they could not in the marketplace — namely, competing against their rivals. Perhaps it's time for some angry e-mails to the Sugar Association!
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 22:07
1 comments
An environmentalist friend of mind recently referenced an article discussing the work of Michael Shellenberger and Ted Nordhaus, two PR analysts who argue that environmentalism is suffering from the United States's recent rightward shift, a trend that does not appear to be abating anytime soon. She posted this article on a listserv, and the following is my response to that same listserv:
"Here are my two cents. First of all, it's helpful to avoid thinking in terms of 'Americans' or the 'United States.' While Shellenberger and Nordhaus's statistical snapshot of current American attitudes is certainly helpful, we need to avoid identifying ourselves too closely with any national group. One may feel dismayed that so many of his/her fellow citizens hold such views; on the other hand, should one even identify as a 'citizen' or as an 'American' — categories that put us on thin ice, theologically?
"Practically, such statistical snapshots remind us of the problems with large nation-states. Such entities attempt to collect individuals and groups with disparate values and interests into a large, homogenized pool. In any substantial or 'real' sense, two people from different nation-states who share similar values and interests have a lot more in common with each other than two members of the same nation-state with widely divergent views. To claim that an American (or Russian, Korean, etc.) has a 'special bond' with another American simply due to nationality or citizenship is, at best, silly (and, at worst, dangerous).
"This brings us to the value of federalism, a concept often derided by the Left and misrepresented (or, in the current context, ignored) by the Right. Recognizing that one über government cannot be all things to all people, federalism encourages the development of local systems of law, regulation, etc. The systems compete, and those that provide individuals and groups what they want in terms of social/political organization win. This doesn't mean that one system would defeat all others; different systems that cater to different groups can co-exist.
"Thus, what should an American leftist (actually, any American) demand in the current political context? Decentralization, true federalism, and the ability to exit any political system that he/she does not like. Forget voting. Political freedom stems from the right to exit."
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 17:30
0 comments
I am not sure why so many contemporary directors think that they can salvage bad film noir with cheap, agonizingly long gunfights. A case in point is Christopher McQuarrie's The Way of the Gun, a silly tale of two small-time crooks (played by Ryan Phillippe and Benicio del Toro), who kidnap a surrogate mother (Juliette Lewis) who is just days (hours?) away from giving birth. The father-to-be is a wealthy (and criminal) developer, who sends his bodyguards and a bagman (James Caan) to chase after the kidnappers, the mother, and the unborn baby. Of course, the kidnappers demand a ransom, most of the cast ends up in northern Mexico (because McQuarrie apparently cannot resist the cheap and tired use of the Mexican desert as a backdrop for outlaw violence), and we encounter a few "plot twists" along the way. (Guess what?! The child doesn't belong to the developer after all!)
Despite having won an Academy Award® for his work on The Usual Suspects, McQuarrie has produced a disappointing—nay, an asinine—script. Besides his unimaginative use of cliched storylines (cliches are fine so long as they are creatively—or at least stylishly—presented), McQuarrie ends up relying on blood-and-guts: namely, a drawn out scene of a cesarean section and an endless gun battle at (where else?) a Mexican brothel. If we are to believe the special features, McQuarrie apparently thought that he was expanding or reinterpreting the film noir Western and that he was helping us to broaden our aesthetic perspective beyond the narrow good guy / bad guy motif. (Criminals have feelings, too! We can sympathize with the bad guy!). If McQuarrie thought that he was treading new ground, then he apparently never watched Hitchcock's To Catch a Thief or Tarrantino's Jackie Brown.
The Way of the Gun both insulted my intelligence and offended my sensibilities. Despite a few catchy bits of dialogue—which get derailed by McQuarrie's excessive (and juvenile) use of the f-bomb—this movie is not worth your time, let alone your money. Final Score: 3.75 out of 10.
Labels: cinema
posted by Kevin O'Donovan @ 12:11
0 comments
