on African American autobiographies and self-discovery

"The discovery of self usually occurs in savage or at best inhospitable surroundings. The self is under attack and responds by taking up the most silent and self-reflective habit of them all: reading. This sets the stage for classic motifs of the genre—movement (literal or metaphorical) and literacy, meaning the very ability to read or the first recognition of one’s own experiences in the mirror of the printed word."

from Autobiographical Fire and Obama’s Creation of Self

by Darryl Lorenzo Wellington

http://www.thecommonreview.org/spotlight.html

part-scene

Doctor: You look so…

Patient: What do you mean?

Doctor: I didn’t mean anything by it.

Patient: So what your saying, is, nothing?

Doctor: Essentially, yes. Don’t take it the wrong way.

Patient: Well I have to. Nothing is never taken in the right way.

Doctor: I’m sorry then.

Patient: For what?

Doctor: For what I said before.

Patient: I thought you never said anything?

Doctor: Then I’m sorry for that.

Patient: For nothing?

Doctor: For anything.

Patient: I guess that’s it then?

Doctor: Yes, I’ll see you again next week. Goodbye!

(exit Doctor)

possible new play

On stage, center. Stage dark except for a spotlight in which Scientist stands. Tall in lab coat. One hand rested on the patient table on his left side, other hand running through his hair. There is also some kind of meter to the left of him, measuring Patient, and on the other side of that, a small table with his operation tools.

Scientist: (to self) To begin the surgery is to begin the science experiment. (to audience) I am no doctor; I am a scientist. I have each tool neatly placed beside the patient. She suffers from (pause, thoughtfully) an incomprehensible delusion, (pause, then continued as if startled) nausea and vomiting, lack of menstruation, lack of appetite, lack of insight, and so on. She was placed in my care, beside these tools only ten minutes ago. Her vital signs are normal. There is no physical cause for the ailments, at least not one we can tell. But look. Look at the way her body lays beautifully on the table. She is etherized upon the table, skin slack and she is prepared for incision. I am her, the one who cuts into her. To cure, (drawn out) something. Do we know what to do? (shakes head) No. Oh no, we have no clue, well it could be any number of things, you see, and I am just an experimenter, we can only plan so far, guess so much. (takes scalpel into his hand, daintily, draws it through the air over her body, as if looking for specific spot) (now more to himself) A cure for isolation. To end it. Oh, but where to begin?

TED Talks: Olafur Eliasson

"...experience is about responsibility. Having an experience is about taking part in the world. And taking part in the world is really about sharing responsibility."

http://video.ted.com/talks/podcast/OlafurEliasson_2009.mp4

in my adult body

between us touching
little fingers grazing
lightly, I've noticed lately
the sentence between us

in my adult body:

the lower abdominals
the way they slither down to the pubic hairs' end
the small bunch of skin that gathers above
the crease the bra indents on the back
the boney, veiny, slender feet
the hair
the way it grows out
the way the shape of the face changes
as it grows out
and its shape
the first tattoo bleeding to illegibility
of the blackened ankle skin


we continue to look at ourselves
the body changing/changed


something behind all things
that makes it flat, the three-dimensional
crowded forward the optical illusion illusioned

the world infinite bc
only living things can die
only endings can end.

we become small scale duties

----I clean the kitchen after every meal

the nervous habits accrued
----my back is beginning to curve
----up top the vertebrae clicking each
----time, everytime I get a chance
----I remember
----I, still, want straight(er) posture

we are the impossible sentences we compose
that we then must abandon
alright, the spoken speech is inexplicit

I asked you if I could rest on your lap
but didn't

Holy Shit: The cooperative principle

In pragmatics, which is the studies of the meaning of language that falls outside of semantic theory (word and sentence definition, word order etc), there is a system of maxims defined by American philosopher Paul Grice, which govern the rules by which we can understand each other. These are under the umbrella of the cooperative principle for the reason that people generally want to understand what another is saying, so naturally we adhere to some basic principles that allow us to do so.

1. Maxim of quantity - give the correct amount of information; not too little, not too much.
i.e. What are you reading?
no - A book. (although many people do this for comedic effect, or to be difficult)
no - A book, A Tale of Two Cities, which I checked out from the library on August 21st, 2008 at 12:30 pm, from the literature section of the Pilsen library in Chicago... etc (this is of course if they do not ask for more information)
yes - A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens.

2. Maxim of quality - give correct information; don't blatantly lie.
i.e. What is in that bowl on the table? (Spaghetti)
no - Corn (of course, this is also subject to jest/sarcasm)
yes - Spaghetti.

3. Maxim of relevance - giving a reply which fits or fulfills the question.
i.e. Where did you get that sweater?
no - There's a new issue of Superman coming out tomorrow.
yes - From the clearance rack at the Gap.

4. Maxim of manner - speak with clarity and order, which may otherwise confuse the listener.
i.e. no - I fell asleep and we talked about language after we ate dinner.
yes - After we ate dinner, we talked about language and then I fell asleep.


So these rules from first glance are extremely simple, common sense that we all possess and use without thought. However, the interesting part is breaking these rules.
We are so set in these principles and so trusting that people follow them, that when the maxims are broken we as language users assume information from or importance in these words.
The book that I'm reading gives an apt example:
"For example, if someone said: 'What's for supper?' and the reply was the superficially irrelevant one: 'Billy fell downstairs', the hearer is likely to assume that the information about Billy was somehow important, and will fill in the gaps with assumptions such as 'Since Billy was supposed to cook the supper, and he's fallen downstairs, I assume that there isn't any supper ready'."

So this is fascinating to me, for a number of reasons. Firstly, the explanation of how we can understand what we do from what is said, when it is not completely explicit (conversational spoken language is inherently inexplicit) is quite amazing. Secondly, I'd like to further explore the other intentional forms of rules breaking, such as sarcasm and humor, in which people break language rules to reach some end.
Poetry and metaphor even have their ways of confusing the systems of linguistics, especially in concern to the 'impossible sentence' in semantic theory.

Wow, who ever thought I was this much of a nerd.

Holy Shit

Porpita porpita (Chondrophore)

This is a colony of living organisms, measuring 1-in in diameter, all working on their own specific task to help the whole. The gas-filled center keeps the colony afloat. Learn more at Visual Complexity by clicking above, or at wiki

(image copyrighted to NOAA - National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration. Thanks!)