Kuhnean paradigm-shifts
Yay for the Simpsons! Tonight, they showed the Poochie episode. "Excuse me, but 'proactive' and 'paradigm'? Aren't those just buzzwords that dumb people use to sound important? Not that I'm accusing you of anything like that. ...I'm fired, aren't I?"
Anyway, I'll continue on from where my last entry left off, by following my train of thought when contemplating the books that I read on holidays...
The Best American Science Writing 2004
edited by Dava Sobel
I was pretty keen on visiting Kinokuniya when I was in Japan, it made it into my guidebook and the one in Sydney has plenty of great books. The Kinokuniya in Tokyo didn't disappoint in terms of its size (I think that it was about 7 storeys in all), but its English section wasn't particularly big. I'd recently finished that history of science that I wrote about in my last entry, so I wasn't exactly desperate for an immediate fix of popular science. Unfortunately, the popular science section of Kinokuniya was the only English section that seemed reasonably well stocked with books that I'd consider buying. I felt like a bit of a chill-out book for my next read, so I ended up with The Best American Science Writing at the counter.
The book consisted of a whole bunch of small articles by various authors, selected by Dava Sobel as being the year's best. I really enjoyed Dava Sobel's Longitude, so trusted that she'd chosen articles for the book that would be, if nothing else, comfortably enjoyable.
I got what I'd hoped for. Several plane trips and late nights indoors were accompanied by nice little snippets of entertainment that didn't make my brain feel like mush, and as a bonus I got a few pieces of information that jabbed at me and have stuck around.
One of the articles that really stood out for me was called Stripped for Parts, by Jennifer Kahn. Prior to reading the article, I'd never considered what organ donation actually meant for the donor. I'd certainly never had the mental image of professionals worrying over the health of dead people, and artificially fooling dead bodies into thinking that they were still alive. The article's impact was probably heightened by the fact that I'd recently read The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, by Sogyal Rinpoche. Though that particular book was incredibly well intentioned, I'm sorry to say that I probably didn't get all that much out of it, but I won't go into that now. I will say that Sogyal Rinpoche's book did make me think some more about the actual process of dying, something we'll all have to deal with eventually, and the book did make me consider the worth of dying well. Artificially forcing a corpse to remain "alive" so that its organs can be harvested is certainly a contrast to the ideal, peaceful deaths described by Sogyal Rinpoche, where leaving the deceased monks to sit in meditative postures for several days after death was considered to be of great importance.
Another relatively memorable article was Reading Minds, by Ian Parker, which dealt with attempts to communicate with paralyzed people whose minds are still completely active, otherwise known as people who are "locked in". If I were to spend the rest of my life completely motionless, what would my life be like? The descriptions of life from people almost fully locked in were fascinating. A former French magazine editor, who communicated by blinking, described his mental escapism by writing "I am the hero of Godard's Pierrot le Fou, my face smeared blue, a garland of dynamite sticks encircling my head." A former lawyer, when communicating via a single muscle under his left eye, said that "I have a more vivid imagination when I write, and I think in general I've become more attentive. I concentrate and I try to memorize more." This man can now communicate using only his mind. Using a monitor, electrodes and an amplifier, he can spell out letters, and surf the internet. Ian Parker's article centred around trying to use this technique to communicate with someone completely locked in.
There were plenty of other good little reads in the book, but the book wasn't intended to be much more than a pleasant diversion, which probably accounts for the fact that my train of thought has reached a roadblock...
Anyway, I'll continue on from where my last entry left off, by following my train of thought when contemplating the books that I read on holidays...
The Best American Science Writing 2004
edited by Dava Sobel
I was pretty keen on visiting Kinokuniya when I was in Japan, it made it into my guidebook and the one in Sydney has plenty of great books. The Kinokuniya in Tokyo didn't disappoint in terms of its size (I think that it was about 7 storeys in all), but its English section wasn't particularly big. I'd recently finished that history of science that I wrote about in my last entry, so I wasn't exactly desperate for an immediate fix of popular science. Unfortunately, the popular science section of Kinokuniya was the only English section that seemed reasonably well stocked with books that I'd consider buying. I felt like a bit of a chill-out book for my next read, so I ended up with The Best American Science Writing at the counter.
The book consisted of a whole bunch of small articles by various authors, selected by Dava Sobel as being the year's best. I really enjoyed Dava Sobel's Longitude, so trusted that she'd chosen articles for the book that would be, if nothing else, comfortably enjoyable.
I got what I'd hoped for. Several plane trips and late nights indoors were accompanied by nice little snippets of entertainment that didn't make my brain feel like mush, and as a bonus I got a few pieces of information that jabbed at me and have stuck around.
One of the articles that really stood out for me was called Stripped for Parts, by Jennifer Kahn. Prior to reading the article, I'd never considered what organ donation actually meant for the donor. I'd certainly never had the mental image of professionals worrying over the health of dead people, and artificially fooling dead bodies into thinking that they were still alive. The article's impact was probably heightened by the fact that I'd recently read The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, by Sogyal Rinpoche. Though that particular book was incredibly well intentioned, I'm sorry to say that I probably didn't get all that much out of it, but I won't go into that now. I will say that Sogyal Rinpoche's book did make me think some more about the actual process of dying, something we'll all have to deal with eventually, and the book did make me consider the worth of dying well. Artificially forcing a corpse to remain "alive" so that its organs can be harvested is certainly a contrast to the ideal, peaceful deaths described by Sogyal Rinpoche, where leaving the deceased monks to sit in meditative postures for several days after death was considered to be of great importance.
Another relatively memorable article was Reading Minds, by Ian Parker, which dealt with attempts to communicate with paralyzed people whose minds are still completely active, otherwise known as people who are "locked in". If I were to spend the rest of my life completely motionless, what would my life be like? The descriptions of life from people almost fully locked in were fascinating. A former French magazine editor, who communicated by blinking, described his mental escapism by writing "I am the hero of Godard's Pierrot le Fou, my face smeared blue, a garland of dynamite sticks encircling my head." A former lawyer, when communicating via a single muscle under his left eye, said that "I have a more vivid imagination when I write, and I think in general I've become more attentive. I concentrate and I try to memorize more." This man can now communicate using only his mind. Using a monitor, electrodes and an amplifier, he can spell out letters, and surf the internet. Ian Parker's article centred around trying to use this technique to communicate with someone completely locked in.
There were plenty of other good little reads in the book, but the book wasn't intended to be much more than a pleasant diversion, which probably accounts for the fact that my train of thought has reached a roadblock...
Gene,
you are indeed erudite.
Out of curiosity, I have question for you. When you read your high school essays, did it dawn upon you that your writing has significiantly improved. Or has your writing always been good.
It's hard to envisage a younger Gene (i.e. in his high school)days can pen such cogent and coherent pieces.
One more question - people oftern say travelling is accelerated education. Did it enlarge your insight into the human condition?
- Steve Cai
What does erudite mean?
Thanks for the kind (embarassing) words, Steve.
To answer your first question, I think that my writing has improved to the point of being coherent.
In response to your second question, I'd say, "Holy crap! What have I been writing in this blog to get asked a question like that?".
(Then I might say... probably. If so, it hasn't been a conscious thing, and if anything, travelling probably did more to confirm any pre-existing notions of the 'human condition' that I may have had, rather than change my way of looking at people.)
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