“The receiver of the signal may be more interested in one piece of info than he is in any other, he may succeed in extracting one piece of information without another.”
Spark’s mother, a mugshot: her eyes, her lips, her skin hollowed out like an old tree. And her short, brown hair is a mass of twigs sticking out every which way. You can read a difficult adolescence in der, heavy drug use. And yet, she got sober. She became a wife and a mother of four. She had a job working in restaurants. But she still felt down, sometimes. Various psychiatrists concluded that she had depression along with bipolar disorder. They prescribed several drugs. Taking Prozac made her feel normal. She thought she was cured. Den she took d’whole bottle in one shot, so dat a month’s worth of pills had to be pumped out of her stomach. She was no longer sober when she left the hospital. Eventually, crystal meth became her drug of choice, which is most likely how Spark picked up the habit. Or maybe she picked it up from him? You can get a lotta skateboardin done on a 12-hour high. Spark’s mother was no longer able to hold a job. She ended-up controllin de communities around... selling five ounces to half a pound of crystal meth at a time to other dealers.
I am practising my ollies outback in d’alley wid Ray. A little car drives up to us. I see a haggard-looking mother at de wheel. Two kids get out. I’s real hard to figure out how old’ey are cuz dey emaciated, and’ey look like dey should be bigger somehow. It looks like dey should be, like, fourteen years old but dey so tiny. Ray is talkin to dem, lookin at our boards.
One o’de kids says, “Ramp Champ!”
[I believe dis Spark.]
Ray says, “More like Rat Champ.”
Dey seem to take offense. An before anything else can be said’ey are back in de car and’e mother drives’em away, god knows where.
DAT OUGHT’O HELP K Jan OUT SOME. HE PROBLY ALREADY KNOW ALL DAT SHIT, BUT HE MIGHT HAVE FORGOTTEN. ONE MORE THING, HER NAME WAS "BOZ".
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
“Have you heard any voices recently? And what were they saying to you?”
contrary to contradict another one. be polite, be true, become opera live to contradict another one pretty damned important too. sleeping, the good stuff. I think that alotta the time I get confused about why people are telling me certain things.
how am i goin to make it right?
“Do you have any worries about your safety?”
A hypodermic syringe flashed in the doctor’s hands, and in a single motion the woman ripped open the sleeve of my shirt. I could smell some kind of chemical and then I passed out.
“Do you feel like you’re being watched?”
“But I AM being watched. There’s a camera in my room right up in the corner there. I know that you guys can see me. I know that you’re supposed to keep an eye on me to make sure that I don’t try to hurt myself again. It’s the law. I’m under your jurisdiction now that I no longer know what is in my own best interests.”
“Just to let you know, today is the twenty-first. It’s Wednesday. You were brought here yesterday.”
“VOLUNTARILY?!”
“No. I think you were brought here. That’s all for today. Take care.”
contrary to contradict another one. be polite, be true, become opera live to contradict another one pretty damned important too. sleeping, the good stuff. I think that alotta the time I get confused about why people are telling me certain things.
how am i goin to make it right?
“Do you have any worries about your safety?”
A hypodermic syringe flashed in the doctor’s hands, and in a single motion the woman ripped open the sleeve of my shirt. I could smell some kind of chemical and then I passed out.
“Do you feel like you’re being watched?”
“But I AM being watched. There’s a camera in my room right up in the corner there. I know that you guys can see me. I know that you’re supposed to keep an eye on me to make sure that I don’t try to hurt myself again. It’s the law. I’m under your jurisdiction now that I no longer know what is in my own best interests.”
“Just to let you know, today is the twenty-first. It’s Wednesday. You were brought here yesterday.”
“VOLUNTARILY?!”
“No. I think you were brought here. That’s all for today. Take care.”
Monday, November 17, 2008
On Aug. 12, 1833 the Town of Chicago incorporated with a population of 350.
In the office he was attended to by three people - two women and one man, all wearing white. First, he was led over to a small table in the corner with the obvious intent of getting some information out of him. Typically an examination might take 15 seconds, after which the doctors chalked their diagnosis on the shoulder of any dubious case.
“What is your name?”
“Where are you from?”
“Why have you come here to Townsend?”
“How old are you?”
“How much money do you have?”
“Can you show it to me?”
“Do you have any friends or family here?”
“Is there anyone here who can vouch for you?”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“Are you an anarchist?”
“A polygamist?”
But it could turn into quite a lengthy business: who died, when and how, alcohol, venereal disease, and all that sort of thing. They concluded by asking for an account of what had happened yesterday, but they did not badger him...
After the interview, send a Thank-You Note.
At last one or two members of the panel (especially the psychologists) actually admitted the possibility... and that in this stage... but at that point it was concluded that the crime itself could only have been committed in a state of some temporary disturbance of the mind, as it were, under the influence of some dangerous monomania... One of the main fiber tracts connecting the hippocampus with the other brain regions is structurally impaired in the brains of people with schizophrenia, suggests new research.
The term human agency, or agency, recognizes the important fact that juveniles not only are acted upon by social influence and structural constraints, but also make choices and decisions based on the alternatives that they see before them. A longitudinal study on adolescent health (eating disorders, depression, substance abuse) in middle and secondary school boys and girls... school-based study of male adolescent mental health: depression, substance abuse, and eating disorders...
“I promise to conform, really. Just let me outta here. It’s a fucking maze.”
The fundamental idea of the juvenile court is that the state must step in and exercise guardianship over a child found under such adverse social or individual conditions as to encourage the development of crime. What differs is the viewpoint that children are not altogether responsible for their behaviour. This focus on context, which goes back to the Chicago School of Sociology, has a long history in sociology in the former United States of America.
The sentence, however, turned out to be more lenient than might have been supposed, given the crime that had been committed, and this may have been for the reason that not only did the criminal make no attempt to justify himself - he seemed to display a wish to incriminate himself further. As to the criminal’s ill and impoverished condition before he had committed his crime there was not the slightest doubt. All of this played a decisive role in softening the fate of the accused... These children and adolescents see no satisfaction in their present; they see no rewarding perspectives for their future; and they can draw no strength from their past. For what was supposed to be their childhood, with its many years of free, relatively unmanipulated and thus stabilizing possibilities of development and experience, has now shrunk... Thus cheated of his childhood, the young person possesses only the rudiments of imagination, independence, and self-confidence; he chases from one attraction to the next, unable, for this reason, to muster resistance to the massive stimulation of demand on the part of commodity producers, to which he has been exposed from at least nursery school age onwards. Today, as a result of intensified selection procedures in schools, more and more young people realize already during puberty that, however hard they might try, their future financial potential is unlikely to afford them access to the attractive world of... Their parents are unable to show them a path they may tread. The majority of parents are themselves stuck in insoluble contradictions: with what they have achieved in their life and still hope to achieve they will never be able to afford what they really want or rather what they have learned to want. What perishes in this struggle are values like friendship, neighbourliness, trust, confidence, helpfulness, and understanding for the troubles of others.
Spark’s father was 17 when he began at the South Works plant for U.S. Steel. Here was a collection of more than a hundred buildings covering an area equivalent to the size of Lake Erie. These long, black buildings were everywhere. The vast works were a city in themselves. Far and wide, the sky was flaring with red. For miles beyond the perimeter of the plant one could always hear a vast stirring, a constant hammering roar, along with the crunching of bare gray cinders under foot. Beneath the layers of dark, billowing smoke were white-hot masses of metal that sped past him; while explosions of flaming SPARKS dazzled him.
In his junior year (that’s as far as he got in school), a recruiter from U.S. Steel told an assembly of boys, ‘You can go there and get a trade. No one can ever take that away from you.’ He didn’t need much coaxing. His own father had become a millwright at Inland Steel after a stint as a semipro baseball shortstop. But after a week of this work he realized that the men in these mills were all black with soot, hollow-eyed and gaunt.
In the office he was attended to by three people - two women and one man, all wearing white. First, he was led over to a small table in the corner with the obvious intent of getting some information out of him. Typically an examination might take 15 seconds, after which the doctors chalked their diagnosis on the shoulder of any dubious case.
“What is your name?”
“Where are you from?”
“Why have you come here to Townsend?”
“How old are you?”
“How much money do you have?”
“Can you show it to me?”
“Do you have any friends or family here?”
“Is there anyone here who can vouch for you?”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“Are you an anarchist?”
“A polygamist?”
But it could turn into quite a lengthy business: who died, when and how, alcohol, venereal disease, and all that sort of thing. They concluded by asking for an account of what had happened yesterday, but they did not badger him...
After the interview, send a Thank-You Note.
At last one or two members of the panel (especially the psychologists) actually admitted the possibility... and that in this stage... but at that point it was concluded that the crime itself could only have been committed in a state of some temporary disturbance of the mind, as it were, under the influence of some dangerous monomania... One of the main fiber tracts connecting the hippocampus with the other brain regions is structurally impaired in the brains of people with schizophrenia, suggests new research.
The term human agency, or agency, recognizes the important fact that juveniles not only are acted upon by social influence and structural constraints, but also make choices and decisions based on the alternatives that they see before them. A longitudinal study on adolescent health (eating disorders, depression, substance abuse) in middle and secondary school boys and girls... school-based study of male adolescent mental health: depression, substance abuse, and eating disorders...
“I promise to conform, really. Just let me outta here. It’s a fucking maze.”
The fundamental idea of the juvenile court is that the state must step in and exercise guardianship over a child found under such adverse social or individual conditions as to encourage the development of crime. What differs is the viewpoint that children are not altogether responsible for their behaviour. This focus on context, which goes back to the Chicago School of Sociology, has a long history in sociology in the former United States of America.
The sentence, however, turned out to be more lenient than might have been supposed, given the crime that had been committed, and this may have been for the reason that not only did the criminal make no attempt to justify himself - he seemed to display a wish to incriminate himself further. As to the criminal’s ill and impoverished condition before he had committed his crime there was not the slightest doubt. All of this played a decisive role in softening the fate of the accused... These children and adolescents see no satisfaction in their present; they see no rewarding perspectives for their future; and they can draw no strength from their past. For what was supposed to be their childhood, with its many years of free, relatively unmanipulated and thus stabilizing possibilities of development and experience, has now shrunk... Thus cheated of his childhood, the young person possesses only the rudiments of imagination, independence, and self-confidence; he chases from one attraction to the next, unable, for this reason, to muster resistance to the massive stimulation of demand on the part of commodity producers, to which he has been exposed from at least nursery school age onwards. Today, as a result of intensified selection procedures in schools, more and more young people realize already during puberty that, however hard they might try, their future financial potential is unlikely to afford them access to the attractive world of... Their parents are unable to show them a path they may tread. The majority of parents are themselves stuck in insoluble contradictions: with what they have achieved in their life and still hope to achieve they will never be able to afford what they really want or rather what they have learned to want. What perishes in this struggle are values like friendship, neighbourliness, trust, confidence, helpfulness, and understanding for the troubles of others.
Spark’s father was 17 when he began at the South Works plant for U.S. Steel. Here was a collection of more than a hundred buildings covering an area equivalent to the size of Lake Erie. These long, black buildings were everywhere. The vast works were a city in themselves. Far and wide, the sky was flaring with red. For miles beyond the perimeter of the plant one could always hear a vast stirring, a constant hammering roar, along with the crunching of bare gray cinders under foot. Beneath the layers of dark, billowing smoke were white-hot masses of metal that sped past him; while explosions of flaming SPARKS dazzled him.
In his junior year (that’s as far as he got in school), a recruiter from U.S. Steel told an assembly of boys, ‘You can go there and get a trade. No one can ever take that away from you.’ He didn’t need much coaxing. His own father had become a millwright at Inland Steel after a stint as a semipro baseball shortstop. But after a week of this work he realized that the men in these mills were all black with soot, hollow-eyed and gaunt.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
I really hate humans. I’s not their fault, but’hey just have all these ridiculous emotions and d’only tool dey have to deal wid’em is a ridiculous logic. De whole thing is’o absurd. Nobody wins, yet somehow dey survive. De worst part is dat I am becoming more and more like dem. ‘HATE’ such a strong human emotion. Plants don’t have it. Neither do insects. Once you get’o mammals i’s harder to say. Now I know dat I ain’t no mammal, but I am feelin some kinda hate. Alright, maybe i’s not a true hatred. I’s more like der are times when I find humans quite repugnant. But’he very existence of such a feelin within me brings me even closer to that which I find so distasteful. Quite a paradox, isn’t it, Maro? Hey, did you fall asleep?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
“See what I mean?”
“Ok. So you had a dream about this place. Tell me.”
“Well, [ahem] it’s the second one I’ve had. But they’re both the same. They start out that I’m in here. But it’s not day or night. It’s kinda half night, y’know? But it looks like this except for the light. And I’m scared like I can’t tell ya. Of all people, you’re standing right over there, by that counter. You’re in both dreams and you’re scared. I get even more frightened when I see how afraid you are, and then I realize what it is. Behind this place, there’s a group. It’s the Dorset Reality Group. They’re the ones who are doing it. I can see them through the wall. I can see their faces. I hope that I never see their faces outside a dream.”
“You know that Townsend is a wholly owned subsidiary of the Dorset Reality Group. It’s like their showroom. The FIELD, any simulations, it’s all courtesy of them.”
“Holy shit. No wonder everything is so fucked-up.”
“You’re telling me. Here, I’ll show you. Look at this. I have a copy of one o’their contracts.”
“How’d you get that?”
“Don’t worry bout it. See? They’ve been around since 1975.”
“Whoa. That’s so weird.”
“I know. What were they doing back then?”
“Research and development?”
“I guess so.”
Investment Services and Management
We have earned an enviable reputation for providing quality and effective asset management, commercial marketing, and investment services. Dorset Reality networks with many professional associations in related industries to enhance and expand both our information and services, for the benefit of our clients. Our proven ability and high level of service will enhance your long term operations and performance.
A. Dorset Reality adheres to the Professional Code of Ethics of the Reality Board.
B. Dorset Reality prides itself with its attention to proper maintenance. We oversee staff, contractors, and service trades to ensure that they are conducting their work properly. We can provide preventative and long-term maintenance programs which will be monitored and followed-up by our managers. Our managers and professionals utilize all of the sophisticated technical tools available in order to provide effective reporting, and to enhance our marketing strategies.
C. We will forward (as directed) the net income proceeds to the clients directly, or to their bank account after any expenses that are applicable. All trust accounts for the client are placed in interest bearing accounts at a chartered financial institution. We have established trust account programs which provide for limited amounts of banking fees (or if a minimum deposit is retained NO banking fees), with competitive rates of interest being paid.
D. We shall assist in preparing an Annual Operating Budget with realistic objectives for required operations.
E. We will assist the client(s) in obtaining comprehensive insurance coverage. The cost of the coverage shall be discussed in detail along with other general insurance issues. We are able to obtain very competitive Insurance Coverage Programs from the insurance firms with which we deal.
F. The management fees for our services are very reasonable. Our management fees are usually based either upon a percentage of the income to be earned by the client, or are set as part of a projected Annual Budget.
“Ethics of the Reality Board my ass.”
“Yeah, they’re probably like, ‘A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.’”
“Right. ‘A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.’”
“HAHHAHAHaaaa. Heh.”
“Ok. So you had a dream about this place. Tell me.”
“Well, [ahem] it’s the second one I’ve had. But they’re both the same. They start out that I’m in here. But it’s not day or night. It’s kinda half night, y’know? But it looks like this except for the light. And I’m scared like I can’t tell ya. Of all people, you’re standing right over there, by that counter. You’re in both dreams and you’re scared. I get even more frightened when I see how afraid you are, and then I realize what it is. Behind this place, there’s a group. It’s the Dorset Reality Group. They’re the ones who are doing it. I can see them through the wall. I can see their faces. I hope that I never see their faces outside a dream.”
“You know that Townsend is a wholly owned subsidiary of the Dorset Reality Group. It’s like their showroom. The FIELD, any simulations, it’s all courtesy of them.”
“Holy shit. No wonder everything is so fucked-up.”
“You’re telling me. Here, I’ll show you. Look at this. I have a copy of one o’their contracts.”
“How’d you get that?”
“Don’t worry bout it. See? They’ve been around since 1975.”
“Whoa. That’s so weird.”
“I know. What were they doing back then?”
“Research and development?”
“I guess so.”
Investment Services and Management
We have earned an enviable reputation for providing quality and effective asset management, commercial marketing, and investment services. Dorset Reality networks with many professional associations in related industries to enhance and expand both our information and services, for the benefit of our clients. Our proven ability and high level of service will enhance your long term operations and performance.
A. Dorset Reality adheres to the Professional Code of Ethics of the Reality Board.
B. Dorset Reality prides itself with its attention to proper maintenance. We oversee staff, contractors, and service trades to ensure that they are conducting their work properly. We can provide preventative and long-term maintenance programs which will be monitored and followed-up by our managers. Our managers and professionals utilize all of the sophisticated technical tools available in order to provide effective reporting, and to enhance our marketing strategies.
C. We will forward (as directed) the net income proceeds to the clients directly, or to their bank account after any expenses that are applicable. All trust accounts for the client are placed in interest bearing accounts at a chartered financial institution. We have established trust account programs which provide for limited amounts of banking fees (or if a minimum deposit is retained NO banking fees), with competitive rates of interest being paid.
D. We shall assist in preparing an Annual Operating Budget with realistic objectives for required operations.
E. We will assist the client(s) in obtaining comprehensive insurance coverage. The cost of the coverage shall be discussed in detail along with other general insurance issues. We are able to obtain very competitive Insurance Coverage Programs from the insurance firms with which we deal.
F. The management fees for our services are very reasonable. Our management fees are usually based either upon a percentage of the income to be earned by the client, or are set as part of a projected Annual Budget.
“Ethics of the Reality Board my ass.”
“Yeah, they’re probably like, ‘A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.’”
“Right. ‘A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.’”
“HAHHAHAHaaaa. Heh.”
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
-a broad study concerning the character structure of modern humans and the problems of the interaction between psychological and sociological factors
I want to inhabit a reality that does not exist. Where are the smoke-filled rooms brimming with intrigue? No simulation can cure these symptoms of absence. My life is meaningless. Perhaps others can see meaning in it, but I cannot. It’s funny in a way because I wouldn want JMac to kill himself. In fact, I’m constantly havin to talk him out of it. From a third-person perspective, suicide is horrible. It’s horrible to think that someone you know couldn’t find a reason to stay alive any longer. If he completes the act then one can’t help wonderin, “Was there something I could’ve said or done to change his mind?” I truly do want JMac to stay alive. He’s livin proof of rehabilitation. If JMac can stay good then any human can. I feel better bout the world jus knowin that he’s in it now.
But from a first person perspective, life feels awful. I mean it. I never feel whole. I always have Davidson’s theory of truth, which requires a theory of reference in order to get at meaning.
“Yes, yes, gentlemen, the damn libido,” he said.
Henry Corbin replies, “It is a matter of perceiving the same SIGNS together; it is a matter of each one of us on each occasion interpreting them according to the meaning of his own being, but it is also a matter of constituting a harmonious hermeneutics of signs.”
The Builidng-Block method isn’t helpful because it blurs the distinction between the meaning of a word and the meaning of a sentence.
“The whole affair is great sport for you, of course - it doesn’t matter to you.”
Henry Corbin again, “And this, at bottom, is only opening the living spring of unconditioned SYMPATHY, the sympathy that, existing before our deliberate and conscious purpose, causes the grouping of human beings.”
Is Davidson defending a kind of instrumentalism regarding satisfaction?
“Vesicular.”
Corbin, “The result of the response to that sign was the meeting of acting, autonomous individualities, each in complete freedom revealing and expressing his original and personal way of thinking and being, outside of all dogmatism and all academicism; a constellation of those wills, and a constellation of the worlds that they bring with them, that they have taken in charge by putting them into the present...”
Davidson interrupts, “What we can observe is the sentence, not the individual references.”
I say, “How do you separate the word from the sentence?”
“But the director gets a noseful, believe you - muffled - believe you me.”
Corbin is still going on, “... A composite whole, a structure, not a result conditioned by the laws of the period or by fashionable crazes, but a whole made strong by its one inner and central norm: a woman’s generous, energetic, tenacious will, that of Mme Olga Froebe-Kapteyn, every year propounding a new theme and thus inviting to a new creation.”
We understand the whole in terms of the parts but this doesn’t mean that the parts get their meaning independently of sentences.
“Can I help it if phthisis is accompanied by increased concupiscence?”
Referential relationships do not stand on their own independently of the sentence.
“Slight roughness?”
Fodor takes the atomistic view that words get their meaning independently of sentences.
“I didn’t arrange things this way, but before you know what’s happened you’re running a cathouse.”
Does Davidson’s view lead to anti-realism?
“Diminished under the left shoulder.”
Davidson agrees with Quine that reference is inscrutable, though for different reasons.
“We provide analysis, a chance to talk things out - and a hell of a lot of good it does.”
Kretschmar has entered the examining room without anyone noticing.
“I advocate mathematics. Better here, the old sound is gone. Keeping onself occupied with mathematics. Better here, the old sound is gone. Keeping oneself occupied with mathemateics, I say, is the best medicine for cupidity.”
Kretschmar’s presence has not affected the attending physician’s countenance in the slightest.
“A bath, Room 117- private - and post a guard,” orders Kretschmar while putting on her glasses.
“The more the rhonchial pack talks things out the more lecherous they become. Prosecutor Paravant, who was severely afflicted, threw himself into math - he’s busy squaring the circle these days, and it has greatly eased his problem. But most of them are too dull-witted or too lazy for that, God help them. Vesicular. You see, I’m quite aware that young folks go to the dogs all too easily here, and I used to attempt to take occasional measures against their debauchery. But then one day some lad or lover looked me straight in the eye and asked what business it was of mine. And since then I’ve been only a doctor. Weak rattling, top right.”
We will be exploring several topics related to language and health, including a very close examination of depression and language. We will be looking for linguistic markers of depression that occur before the individual is aware of the depression. Also, we will be examining gender differences in daily writing and the implications of those differences in working memory.
I want to inhabit a reality that does not exist. Where are the smoke-filled rooms brimming with intrigue? No simulation can cure these symptoms of absence. My life is meaningless. Perhaps others can see meaning in it, but I cannot. It’s funny in a way because I wouldn want JMac to kill himself. In fact, I’m constantly havin to talk him out of it. From a third-person perspective, suicide is horrible. It’s horrible to think that someone you know couldn’t find a reason to stay alive any longer. If he completes the act then one can’t help wonderin, “Was there something I could’ve said or done to change his mind?” I truly do want JMac to stay alive. He’s livin proof of rehabilitation. If JMac can stay good then any human can. I feel better bout the world jus knowin that he’s in it now.
But from a first person perspective, life feels awful. I mean it. I never feel whole. I always have Davidson’s theory of truth, which requires a theory of reference in order to get at meaning.
“Yes, yes, gentlemen, the damn libido,” he said.
Henry Corbin replies, “It is a matter of perceiving the same SIGNS together; it is a matter of each one of us on each occasion interpreting them according to the meaning of his own being, but it is also a matter of constituting a harmonious hermeneutics of signs.”
The Builidng-Block method isn’t helpful because it blurs the distinction between the meaning of a word and the meaning of a sentence.
“The whole affair is great sport for you, of course - it doesn’t matter to you.”
Henry Corbin again, “And this, at bottom, is only opening the living spring of unconditioned SYMPATHY, the sympathy that, existing before our deliberate and conscious purpose, causes the grouping of human beings.”
Is Davidson defending a kind of instrumentalism regarding satisfaction?
“Vesicular.”
Corbin, “The result of the response to that sign was the meeting of acting, autonomous individualities, each in complete freedom revealing and expressing his original and personal way of thinking and being, outside of all dogmatism and all academicism; a constellation of those wills, and a constellation of the worlds that they bring with them, that they have taken in charge by putting them into the present...”
Davidson interrupts, “What we can observe is the sentence, not the individual references.”
I say, “How do you separate the word from the sentence?”
“But the director gets a noseful, believe you - muffled - believe you me.”
Corbin is still going on, “... A composite whole, a structure, not a result conditioned by the laws of the period or by fashionable crazes, but a whole made strong by its one inner and central norm: a woman’s generous, energetic, tenacious will, that of Mme Olga Froebe-Kapteyn, every year propounding a new theme and thus inviting to a new creation.”
We understand the whole in terms of the parts but this doesn’t mean that the parts get their meaning independently of sentences.
“Can I help it if phthisis is accompanied by increased concupiscence?”
Referential relationships do not stand on their own independently of the sentence.
“Slight roughness?”
Fodor takes the atomistic view that words get their meaning independently of sentences.
“I didn’t arrange things this way, but before you know what’s happened you’re running a cathouse.”
Does Davidson’s view lead to anti-realism?
“Diminished under the left shoulder.”
Davidson agrees with Quine that reference is inscrutable, though for different reasons.
“We provide analysis, a chance to talk things out - and a hell of a lot of good it does.”
Kretschmar has entered the examining room without anyone noticing.
“I advocate mathematics. Better here, the old sound is gone. Keeping onself occupied with mathematics. Better here, the old sound is gone. Keeping oneself occupied with mathemateics, I say, is the best medicine for cupidity.”
Kretschmar’s presence has not affected the attending physician’s countenance in the slightest.
“A bath, Room 117- private - and post a guard,” orders Kretschmar while putting on her glasses.
“The more the rhonchial pack talks things out the more lecherous they become. Prosecutor Paravant, who was severely afflicted, threw himself into math - he’s busy squaring the circle these days, and it has greatly eased his problem. But most of them are too dull-witted or too lazy for that, God help them. Vesicular. You see, I’m quite aware that young folks go to the dogs all too easily here, and I used to attempt to take occasional measures against their debauchery. But then one day some lad or lover looked me straight in the eye and asked what business it was of mine. And since then I’ve been only a doctor. Weak rattling, top right.”
We will be exploring several topics related to language and health, including a very close examination of depression and language. We will be looking for linguistic markers of depression that occur before the individual is aware of the depression. Also, we will be examining gender differences in daily writing and the implications of those differences in working memory.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
“Say that again.”
“The research reported in this paper... it shows promise...”
“And will be described next?”
“It doesn’t matter... and then in parentheses ‘Chapter Two’. The problem is when I read Chapter Two, I don’t have a clue. But it’s an empty title. Write a new one: Preliminary, Initial Study, My Follow-up.”
“But I can’t have that many titles. I want the title to be the title of the manuscript. But the whole damn paragraph is telling you.”
“If yer telling me in Table 1... But Table 1 is not a meaningful title. That’s it. “
“Alright, well lets just figure out... Cut out all that preamble... across the studies and things like that.”
“That might help. Yeah, that’s not bad. Yeah, just step back.”
“What? Step back? I try to... Didn’t think about my dissertation at all... contaminate... it actually worked out really nicely... If they make it here... Ohmygod it’s ridiculous... I didn’t see that before... be in the same orientation.”
“The landscape page... This is the portrait. Is it this way or this way?”
“Yeah, that’s how I did it. My concern is... the amount of time... section one... preliminary section where we analyse. So there’s that whole section.”
“When’s this due?”
“A week. I need a plan. I need a plan. The problem that I see with it... remembering prior actions and the next paragraph is saying specifically, retrospective memory has never been tested. We’re gonna show the results as we did before... Prospective memory is usually like this... measured... the new data... Data revamped? Recycled? Who’s doing it? This is what I mean. This paper is in your hands.”
“Still working on it. And I hope I’m gonna be feeling good enough to do some work. As soon as I have that discussion part I’ll send it to you. Then there’s only the introduction.”
“Polish that up. And I’m absolutely right on the ball and go from there.”
“I’m thinking to really get this done... over the weekend.”
“You’re not allowed to be sick! Not right now.”
“And so... yeah...”
“Doctor’s apartment.”
“So tell me... conference call. That one, 1:30?”
“Yeah, tentatively.:.”
“Yeah, remember this is the new deal.”
“The research reported in this paper... it shows promise...”
“And will be described next?”
“It doesn’t matter... and then in parentheses ‘Chapter Two’. The problem is when I read Chapter Two, I don’t have a clue. But it’s an empty title. Write a new one: Preliminary, Initial Study, My Follow-up.”
“But I can’t have that many titles. I want the title to be the title of the manuscript. But the whole damn paragraph is telling you.”
“If yer telling me in Table 1... But Table 1 is not a meaningful title. That’s it. “
“Alright, well lets just figure out... Cut out all that preamble... across the studies and things like that.”
“That might help. Yeah, that’s not bad. Yeah, just step back.”
“What? Step back? I try to... Didn’t think about my dissertation at all... contaminate... it actually worked out really nicely... If they make it here... Ohmygod it’s ridiculous... I didn’t see that before... be in the same orientation.”
“The landscape page... This is the portrait. Is it this way or this way?”
“Yeah, that’s how I did it. My concern is... the amount of time... section one... preliminary section where we analyse. So there’s that whole section.”
“When’s this due?”
“A week. I need a plan. I need a plan. The problem that I see with it... remembering prior actions and the next paragraph is saying specifically, retrospective memory has never been tested. We’re gonna show the results as we did before... Prospective memory is usually like this... measured... the new data... Data revamped? Recycled? Who’s doing it? This is what I mean. This paper is in your hands.”
“Still working on it. And I hope I’m gonna be feeling good enough to do some work. As soon as I have that discussion part I’ll send it to you. Then there’s only the introduction.”
“Polish that up. And I’m absolutely right on the ball and go from there.”
“I’m thinking to really get this done... over the weekend.”
“You’re not allowed to be sick! Not right now.”
“And so... yeah...”
“Doctor’s apartment.”
“So tell me... conference call. That one, 1:30?”
“Yeah, tentatively.:.”
“Yeah, remember this is the new deal.”
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
“HOW could you have put Carey on the moon?”
“I believed that she needed a different environment.”
Kretschmar really is yellin at me. I’s funny, cuz she never yells, like, never. She’s always in complete control of her emotions.
“You put her on Earth’s moon, at least, right? You didn’t put her way out in Jupiter’s orbit or something, did you?”
“I fail to see how it would really make a difference.”
“Right. Right. You really do fail to SEE don’t you. Just happened to choose one of our most heavily sponsored female subjects for orbit. Do you have any idea what kind of risk factors go along with that sort of thing?! You do, don’t you! I know that you do. What were you thinking?”
“It’s only a simulation.”
“It doesn’t MATTER. You know why? Because CAREY won’t know the difference. CAREY doesn’t know the difference between simulation and reality. That’s why she’s here in the first place!”
“Exactly.”
“What do you mean? This is going to screw up ALL of her levels. All of our studies with her are fucking ruined now. What could you possibly mean?! Are you trying to fuck with me, Dr. X? Are you? Because let me tell you something: the lord giveth and the lord taketh away. Just keep that in mind. Keep that in your strange fucking mind for as long as you can.”
First she walks away. And then she runs away. The smell of her sweater hits me suddenly like ape-scent gloriola.
“I believed that she needed a different environment.”
Kretschmar really is yellin at me. I’s funny, cuz she never yells, like, never. She’s always in complete control of her emotions.
“You put her on Earth’s moon, at least, right? You didn’t put her way out in Jupiter’s orbit or something, did you?”
“I fail to see how it would really make a difference.”
“Right. Right. You really do fail to SEE don’t you. Just happened to choose one of our most heavily sponsored female subjects for orbit. Do you have any idea what kind of risk factors go along with that sort of thing?! You do, don’t you! I know that you do. What were you thinking?”
“It’s only a simulation.”
“It doesn’t MATTER. You know why? Because CAREY won’t know the difference. CAREY doesn’t know the difference between simulation and reality. That’s why she’s here in the first place!”
“Exactly.”
“What do you mean? This is going to screw up ALL of her levels. All of our studies with her are fucking ruined now. What could you possibly mean?! Are you trying to fuck with me, Dr. X? Are you? Because let me tell you something: the lord giveth and the lord taketh away. Just keep that in mind. Keep that in your strange fucking mind for as long as you can.”
First she walks away. And then she runs away. The smell of her sweater hits me suddenly like ape-scent gloriola.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
JoseF’s recommended reading for JMac: John Steinbeck, Upton Sinclair, Carl Sandburg. Dis list havin been compiled wid my help in response to JMac’s latest written submission. He seems to have gone completely fictional on us.
Wait a second! Was dat JMac’s intake or Spark’s? Maro! Can you help me out here?
Spark feels dat he cannot make himself understood. Da’s what de’xpression on his face is tellin everybody. He is tryin to say, “I am not just a jock.” He is sayin dis quite slowly, but somehow dey all missin it. I s’pose cuz i’s completely outta context here, given de situation. Distinctly. I can hear him sayin dis quite distinctly. His eyes are closed. De whole room has gone silent. He is sayin, “I cannot make myself understood, now.” He is speakin slowly an distinctly, but no one is understandin at all, cept for me, dat is. “I am not just a boy who skateboards. I have an intricate history. Experiences and feelings. I’m complex.” He opens his eyes and says, “Please don’t think I don’t care.”
As Spark is lookin out and attemptin to rise from his chair, I can see d’horror expressed on de faces of everyone else in de room. I see jowls saggin, eyebrows spiked into thoroughly wrinkled foreheads, cheeks flushed and somehow sucked in. Suddenly the door opens and in walks a bunch o’people in white coats. Someone has pressed’panic button. At d’head o’dem all comes Kretschmar. She is a woman who looks to be about forty years of age, wid pleasant but very penetrating eyes and a polite manner. Dis entirely new entourage is poised to show Spark attention an respect, until dey see d’expression on his face.
“I’m fine,” Spark tries to tell dem, standing.
Yes, i’s quite obvious dat Kretschmar is in charge here, now.
“Please don’t worry,” Spark is saying. “I can explain.”
He is tryin to soothe d’air wid what he believes is a casual hand. But before he knows it, both of his arms are pinioned from behind, and he is wrestled roughly down to de floor.
Durin dis time, Kretschmar has seated herself upon a nearby stool. A man from her team also seats himself upon a stool, introduces himself to Spark as Doctor Stravinsky, all the while continuing to smile amiably at him.
Dey must have put together d’whole case already.
“Nothing is wrong,” Spark is continuing to attempt communication wid’ese people. His forehead is pressed into de floor. He has definitely been arrested. He is tryin to be perceived as limp an pliable. His face is mashed flat; dis makin it hard for him to breath, so dat his words come out even more mangled.
“Try to listen,” Spark says very slowly into de floor.
All de while maintainin his amiable smile, Dr. Stravinsky turns to Kretschmar an says, “WHAT are those... those SOUNDS?”
Spark is now raised up by his underarms, all de while sayin, “I am not what you see and hear.”
Spark is now encircled by a crude half nelson.
“I’m not,” Spark says. The disorder he has somehow caused revolves around him. He is half-dragged, still pinioned, through a loose mob of Administrative people. Spark is brought to Room 117, a cell situated in an otherwise cement corridor. It had formerly served as a sick-room for several patients. It has a high ceiling and gives d’impression o’bein spacious, dat is, until one spends all of one’s time in der. Spark is rolled over, until he is supine on de room’s biodegradable linoleum tile. Here one word makes him shudder (I can see his response), and dat is de word ‘schizophrenia’. De weary doctors look at him and discuss his condition listlessly, “Speech and motor excitation... delirious episodes... clearly a complicated case... Schizophrenia, one must assume. And alcoholism too... The boy needs care... here to enroll, compete...”
***
Oh, right. How could I get dem’ixed-up like dat? Didn’t’hey have completely different admissions? Right. Dey came in on de same night. Da’s why.
Wait a second! Was dat JMac’s intake or Spark’s? Maro! Can you help me out here?
Spark feels dat he cannot make himself understood. Da’s what de’xpression on his face is tellin everybody. He is tryin to say, “I am not just a jock.” He is sayin dis quite slowly, but somehow dey all missin it. I s’pose cuz i’s completely outta context here, given de situation. Distinctly. I can hear him sayin dis quite distinctly. His eyes are closed. De whole room has gone silent. He is sayin, “I cannot make myself understood, now.” He is speakin slowly an distinctly, but no one is understandin at all, cept for me, dat is. “I am not just a boy who skateboards. I have an intricate history. Experiences and feelings. I’m complex.” He opens his eyes and says, “Please don’t think I don’t care.”
As Spark is lookin out and attemptin to rise from his chair, I can see d’horror expressed on de faces of everyone else in de room. I see jowls saggin, eyebrows spiked into thoroughly wrinkled foreheads, cheeks flushed and somehow sucked in. Suddenly the door opens and in walks a bunch o’people in white coats. Someone has pressed’panic button. At d’head o’dem all comes Kretschmar. She is a woman who looks to be about forty years of age, wid pleasant but very penetrating eyes and a polite manner. Dis entirely new entourage is poised to show Spark attention an respect, until dey see d’expression on his face.
“I’m fine,” Spark tries to tell dem, standing.
Yes, i’s quite obvious dat Kretschmar is in charge here, now.
“Please don’t worry,” Spark is saying. “I can explain.”
He is tryin to soothe d’air wid what he believes is a casual hand. But before he knows it, both of his arms are pinioned from behind, and he is wrestled roughly down to de floor.
Durin dis time, Kretschmar has seated herself upon a nearby stool. A man from her team also seats himself upon a stool, introduces himself to Spark as Doctor Stravinsky, all the while continuing to smile amiably at him.
Dey must have put together d’whole case already.
“Nothing is wrong,” Spark is continuing to attempt communication wid’ese people. His forehead is pressed into de floor. He has definitely been arrested. He is tryin to be perceived as limp an pliable. His face is mashed flat; dis makin it hard for him to breath, so dat his words come out even more mangled.
“Try to listen,” Spark says very slowly into de floor.
All de while maintainin his amiable smile, Dr. Stravinsky turns to Kretschmar an says, “WHAT are those... those SOUNDS?”
Spark is now raised up by his underarms, all de while sayin, “I am not what you see and hear.”
Spark is now encircled by a crude half nelson.
“I’m not,” Spark says. The disorder he has somehow caused revolves around him. He is half-dragged, still pinioned, through a loose mob of Administrative people. Spark is brought to Room 117, a cell situated in an otherwise cement corridor. It had formerly served as a sick-room for several patients. It has a high ceiling and gives d’impression o’bein spacious, dat is, until one spends all of one’s time in der. Spark is rolled over, until he is supine on de room’s biodegradable linoleum tile. Here one word makes him shudder (I can see his response), and dat is de word ‘schizophrenia’. De weary doctors look at him and discuss his condition listlessly, “Speech and motor excitation... delirious episodes... clearly a complicated case... Schizophrenia, one must assume. And alcoholism too... The boy needs care... here to enroll, compete...”
***
Oh, right. How could I get dem’ixed-up like dat? Didn’t’hey have completely different admissions? Right. Dey came in on de same night. Da’s why.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Der be peeps fillin in. I’m tryin to find a place to sit myself, and also remember dem all from der profiles. In da peanut gallery we got de Cock (who looks like he fallin asleep, maybe he’d be a good one to sit beside), and a bunch of other student reps. We also gotta couple o’staff members who bin sucked into takin notes.
Megan B. has been a Drug and Alcohol Counsellor at G. House since graduation.
Ted R. works in private practice and has also worked as a consultant to MSB-Health Canada -- Medical Services Branch, Ministry of Health and Social Services, P.W.A. Society, Workers Compensation Board.
Louisa G. is a counsellor at the Police Department under the Canadian Association of Sexual Assault Centres.
“He has nothing to hide. What you see is what you get with him.”
“Sherri is, yes.”
“Well, she did, but I think they dissolved that. She’s very talented, very smart.”
“It’s intimate.”
“Special seats for special people.”
“Even better.”
“It was a department lunch.”
“A lawyer, law firm event.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?”
“I was seating you.”
“You were trying to seat me but you blocked me.”
“I suggest you leave it to that...”
“Oh, was it?”
“Just one night.”
“Not by us.”
“We need somebody to wack’im.”
“Can I put this beside you there?”
[Rebecca Neumann -guest of the evening lookin very beautiful sittin off in the corner by herself.]
“Momentarily... one day and then alluva sudden it’s gone.”
“No, it’s like that.”
[or maybe that isn’t her at all?]
“D’you know what?...”
[I don’t think she would wear jeans. She’s d’one wearin d’huge gold pendant.]
“Doing it justice... big identity crisis.”
“Oh yeah. Yeah, ate there last night. I don’t do restaurants. Don’t go to fancy restaurants.”
[I’s gettin loud. Too many conversations to keep track of. But she IS wearin jeans.]
“Please sit here. Please do. I’ve been fighting people off. They try to sit here and I say, ‘No! Goddammit!’”
“Because you said you would try. It’s a good thing I wasn’t looking for you then.”
[Da’s Kretschmar. I’d know dat crotchety voice anywhere.]
“So there’s going to be a good crowd here. And there’s going to be people who wouldn’t normally come.”
“Wanted! If you see this woman, we want her liver!”
[She’s not wearin jeans. Da’s a look-alike wid buns.]
“Socratic notions of what it means to be an educated person...”
[President has now taken de stage.]
“... Scholarship... If you haven’t received the directions for the reception afterwards... history, place and memory... nationally and internationally...”
[Rebecca Neumann, in turn, introduces her sidekick. She IS wearin jeans.]
“I shall speak neither as an artist nor as an art critic; I shall not even speak of the artistic phenomena with which I come into contact... as a psychologist... the more or less artistic productions which arise in the course of analytical therapy. Our present inquiry lies within the psychology of culture; it aims at an understanding of art as a psychological phenomenon of central importance to the collectivity as well as the individual. We shall start from the creative function of the unconscious, which produces its forms spontaneously...”
[Reminds me of some o’my own writin. I wish I could remember my dreams a bit better.]
“Because this substratum and background of the psychophysical world is forever bringing forth forms, we call it creative... So, that is the video component of... ”
[I still remember de night dey brought K Jan in.
It was getting light outside. The streetlights along the tunnel were casting a glow that was both unnecessary and unpleasant. The driver was angry that the night had been wasted, and he drove the van so hard that it skidded on turns. As they neared Townsend, the surrounding forest fell away and the river disappeared to the side. A highly varied panorama came out to meet the van: fences with sentry boxes, stacks of wood, and of course, the Towers.
I could see that K Jan was having a bumpy ride. The recycled, fake, plastic stump he was seated on in the back of the van kept trying to slide out from underneath him (even though it was bolted to the floor), despite the fact that he ass was safety-belted to it. Attendants don’t really care about this sort of thing.
It’s obvious that his visit to Townsend will have a most oppressive effect on him. I am trying to understand what is tormenting K Jan so. If this is how he takes the ride in, then how will he handle the corridor with the blue lights? Perhaps it’s the thought that there is nothing worse in the world than losing one’s mind. Does K Jan believe that he has lost his mind? Yes, yes, of course there is that. Perhaps it is the insult. Yes, that’s more like it. It’s the insult to his person that bothers him so. We have injured his notion of autonomy. He no longer knows what is in his own best interest. We are here to tell him. Staring at the dirty, rattling floor of the van, he begins to mutter and whine, gnawing away at his restraints. K Jan lurches forward as the floor beneath him stops shaking. He raises his head and sees that he has long since arrived. Now K Jan raises his fist and shouts, “What did I do?!! I don’t get it!!!! I’m unlucky! That’s all!” K Jan concludes with sudden venom as Kretschmar and the attendants step into the back of the van. They've arrived. He looks into Kretschmar’s face and sees that she is completely indifferent to his fate. She does not even feel sorry for him. Day was beginning to bear down upon him with full force.
“Bandits!” he shouts, becoming hoarse, trying to bite anyone he can grab. K Jan screams, “So those are the kind of windows you have here! Let me go! Let me go!”
They have carried him kicking and screaming out of the van. A hypodermic syringe flashes in Kretschmar’s hands, and in a single motion the woman has ripped open one of K Jan’s bedraggled sleeves. There is the smell of ether. K Jan goes weak in the arms of four attendants. An agile Dr. Kretschmar takes advantage of this moment to plunge her needle into K Jan’s arm. They hold on to K Jan for a few seconds longer before lowering him on to a couch in the nearest rubber room.
“Bandits!” K Jan shouts again as he jumps up from the couch. Just as quickly he was deposited back down on to it by four pairs of heavy arms. As soon as they let go of him, he was about to jump up again, but this time he sits back down himself. He falls silent for a moment, looking around wildly, then yawns suddenly, and grins maliciously.
“So they’ve locked me up after all,” he says, yawns again, and lays down. He puts his head on the pillow and his fist under his cheek like a child. In a sleepy voice, free of his former malice, he mumbles, “Well, and very good too... You’ll pay for what you’ve done. I warned you, so now do as you wish!... Right now what interests me most is...”
“A bath, Room 117- private - and post a guard,” orders Kretschmar while putting on her glasses.
Stress and the Development of Aggressive Behaviour
Studies testing the role and effect of environmental factors (such as social stress) on the devolopment and neurobiology of aggressive behaviour.]
“Um in a different manner than it was... projected on to water... basically impossible to document... It’s interesting to me... strange magic in that... projected on to water itself... to somehow... take an aggressive performance... although it would be exceedingly interesting to show, for example, how the archetypal world of Egypt was shaped by a static conception of eternity and time... mist on your skin... very powerful presence... strength... visceral live action... Art is at this stage of a collective phenomenon, which cannot be isolated from the context of collective existence but is integrated with the life of the group... also the works of other... and I think that it’s the strength of my work... Well, is there life after... Aughhh, you guys are so into art... fountains originated in that part of the world... of political significance to me...”
“… We thought… she was making… work… we wanted… a strong emotional impact… intense, political message…”
“It’s my role to articulate and speak about…”
“It’s kinda like a privilege…”
“Um… just to refresh my memory as to how insane that experience was… I had no idea what to expect… so intense… Before I was… I remember… it’s my most personal way of communicating through artistic expression… my identity… aboriginal female body in this place at this time… could be in the middle of nowhere… a way of really examining… just there to witness…”
“... garden? Back to the garden?”
[She has so much courage.]
“… As they fade into the distance… I think at the same time to look at the work… I like to keep it simple… I like to work outside. I like to wash things… and have them feel comfortable… I think that’s how… y’know we all watch movies… I’ve done many, many… and people remind me of what I did… in the body… communicating to other people in their bodies… I created this… while in residence… I chose to work… an abandoned concrete base I thought that was a good site to work… president of the university was having some kinda do… Anishnabe… and yes I do have a very specific… we all have our own histories, our own concerns… to go from being… Am I Anishnabe first? Are we all equal? Or am I just lucky?... There’s this whole… how you want to be with it… confusing… we have to do our work… I see myself… This is all I know how to do now… And sometimes I think society doesn’t want to see that…”
[I wonder where she got that drumstick from. Quite de sidekick she has der. I doubt Maro would ever do anything like dat for me, eh man?]
“… the backdrop that you see… beautiful flowers… It was huge… That day… I had to shift gears… It took about an hour and a half… I think that’s all… tonight… have a conversation… No, they wouldn’t allow me to do that…”
[HEY! (without sponsor) #20033007
- floor o’scholars an research, etc.
- exhibits essential features of steriotypy/habit disorder: intentional repetitive, nonfunctional behaviours (body-rocking, hair-pulling); noncommunicative, repetitive vocalizations performed in a certain rhythm/pattern
-exhibits spontaneous muscle twitching, hands assume position of main d’accoucheur, feet are extended with toes flexed, laryngeal spasms with convulsions
Chap got in de room somehow. I’m gonna hafta kick dat guy’s ass now. So much for de reception.]
“… I think… it made sense… the idea of a naked female body… is very disturbing… shining through the net that held the roses… a seediness, a weirdness to vehicles. They’re like another presence… There can only be one queen bee… Yet you’re documenting… something to be viewed separately… versus seeing in a video format… I think that I’m trying to examine myself… It’s there and then it’s gone… But it’s not the same… I think to try and maybe answer your question… Ok… I’m going to do my thing… And I’m going to try to give it the quality that… the water became the performer… It’s the water that’s moving… So that’s… But I think… I never paid attention to documentation… myth and rumour… I think that’s what I had… mostly… I’ve shifted to now paying more attention to documentation. I think that for me… light bulbs in the screen… good documentation… he was the documentor… He really captured the piece very well… That’s how I started to think… people who weren’t there… that piece is a video where I’m not in the piece… maybe that’s the way I’m heading.”
“Blood?”
“Uh, that’s a good question. I like what you said bout the idea of washing away… It’s the idea of applying blood… turning water into blood and blood into water… being alive… We need water, but water doesn’t need us… the colour white… something for me to think about. Thankyou.”
“Body?”
“… went to art school… found myself using my physical self… I fell into it naturally just through the nature of my personality… the vehicle of the body…”
“… materials talk to you?”
“Yeah, uh… You’ll see sculptural works or installation works… I have a tendency to keep things pretty clean… sculptures or objects that are much more pared down… less messy… harness the material in some way… red cedar log… looks beautiful to me… y’know if you make it too beautiful then it sucks… I want to say something about how we are as human beings… have some purpose…”
“…Images where you’re constrained… always fighting something?”
“I think it’s a human condition… restraining myself… people will feel the struggle… I like that, setting up a difficult situation for myself… that’s just why I need to do it in front of people…”
[She’s fuckin awesome!]
Megan B. has been a Drug and Alcohol Counsellor at G. House since graduation.
Ted R. works in private practice and has also worked as a consultant to MSB-Health Canada -- Medical Services Branch, Ministry of Health and Social Services, P.W.A. Society, Workers Compensation Board.
Louisa G. is a counsellor at the Police Department under the Canadian Association of Sexual Assault Centres.
“He has nothing to hide. What you see is what you get with him.”
“Sherri is, yes.”
“Well, she did, but I think they dissolved that. She’s very talented, very smart.”
“It’s intimate.”
“Special seats for special people.”
“Even better.”
“It was a department lunch.”
“A lawyer, law firm event.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?”
“I was seating you.”
“You were trying to seat me but you blocked me.”
“I suggest you leave it to that...”
“Oh, was it?”
“Just one night.”
“Not by us.”
“We need somebody to wack’im.”
“Can I put this beside you there?”
[Rebecca Neumann -guest of the evening lookin very beautiful sittin off in the corner by herself.]
“Momentarily... one day and then alluva sudden it’s gone.”
“No, it’s like that.”
[or maybe that isn’t her at all?]
“D’you know what?...”
[I don’t think she would wear jeans. She’s d’one wearin d’huge gold pendant.]
“Doing it justice... big identity crisis.”
“Oh yeah. Yeah, ate there last night. I don’t do restaurants. Don’t go to fancy restaurants.”
[I’s gettin loud. Too many conversations to keep track of. But she IS wearin jeans.]
“Please sit here. Please do. I’ve been fighting people off. They try to sit here and I say, ‘No! Goddammit!’”
“Because you said you would try. It’s a good thing I wasn’t looking for you then.”
[Da’s Kretschmar. I’d know dat crotchety voice anywhere.]
“So there’s going to be a good crowd here. And there’s going to be people who wouldn’t normally come.”
“Wanted! If you see this woman, we want her liver!”
[She’s not wearin jeans. Da’s a look-alike wid buns.]
“Socratic notions of what it means to be an educated person...”
[President has now taken de stage.]
“... Scholarship... If you haven’t received the directions for the reception afterwards... history, place and memory... nationally and internationally...”
[Rebecca Neumann, in turn, introduces her sidekick. She IS wearin jeans.]
“I shall speak neither as an artist nor as an art critic; I shall not even speak of the artistic phenomena with which I come into contact... as a psychologist... the more or less artistic productions which arise in the course of analytical therapy. Our present inquiry lies within the psychology of culture; it aims at an understanding of art as a psychological phenomenon of central importance to the collectivity as well as the individual. We shall start from the creative function of the unconscious, which produces its forms spontaneously...”
[Reminds me of some o’my own writin. I wish I could remember my dreams a bit better.]
“Because this substratum and background of the psychophysical world is forever bringing forth forms, we call it creative... So, that is the video component of... ”
[I still remember de night dey brought K Jan in.
It was getting light outside. The streetlights along the tunnel were casting a glow that was both unnecessary and unpleasant. The driver was angry that the night had been wasted, and he drove the van so hard that it skidded on turns. As they neared Townsend, the surrounding forest fell away and the river disappeared to the side. A highly varied panorama came out to meet the van: fences with sentry boxes, stacks of wood, and of course, the Towers.
I could see that K Jan was having a bumpy ride. The recycled, fake, plastic stump he was seated on in the back of the van kept trying to slide out from underneath him (even though it was bolted to the floor), despite the fact that he ass was safety-belted to it. Attendants don’t really care about this sort of thing.
It’s obvious that his visit to Townsend will have a most oppressive effect on him. I am trying to understand what is tormenting K Jan so. If this is how he takes the ride in, then how will he handle the corridor with the blue lights? Perhaps it’s the thought that there is nothing worse in the world than losing one’s mind. Does K Jan believe that he has lost his mind? Yes, yes, of course there is that. Perhaps it is the insult. Yes, that’s more like it. It’s the insult to his person that bothers him so. We have injured his notion of autonomy. He no longer knows what is in his own best interest. We are here to tell him. Staring at the dirty, rattling floor of the van, he begins to mutter and whine, gnawing away at his restraints. K Jan lurches forward as the floor beneath him stops shaking. He raises his head and sees that he has long since arrived. Now K Jan raises his fist and shouts, “What did I do?!! I don’t get it!!!! I’m unlucky! That’s all!” K Jan concludes with sudden venom as Kretschmar and the attendants step into the back of the van. They've arrived. He looks into Kretschmar’s face and sees that she is completely indifferent to his fate. She does not even feel sorry for him. Day was beginning to bear down upon him with full force.
“Bandits!” he shouts, becoming hoarse, trying to bite anyone he can grab. K Jan screams, “So those are the kind of windows you have here! Let me go! Let me go!”
They have carried him kicking and screaming out of the van. A hypodermic syringe flashes in Kretschmar’s hands, and in a single motion the woman has ripped open one of K Jan’s bedraggled sleeves. There is the smell of ether. K Jan goes weak in the arms of four attendants. An agile Dr. Kretschmar takes advantage of this moment to plunge her needle into K Jan’s arm. They hold on to K Jan for a few seconds longer before lowering him on to a couch in the nearest rubber room.
“Bandits!” K Jan shouts again as he jumps up from the couch. Just as quickly he was deposited back down on to it by four pairs of heavy arms. As soon as they let go of him, he was about to jump up again, but this time he sits back down himself. He falls silent for a moment, looking around wildly, then yawns suddenly, and grins maliciously.
“So they’ve locked me up after all,” he says, yawns again, and lays down. He puts his head on the pillow and his fist under his cheek like a child. In a sleepy voice, free of his former malice, he mumbles, “Well, and very good too... You’ll pay for what you’ve done. I warned you, so now do as you wish!... Right now what interests me most is...”
“A bath, Room 117- private - and post a guard,” orders Kretschmar while putting on her glasses.
Stress and the Development of Aggressive Behaviour
Studies testing the role and effect of environmental factors (such as social stress) on the devolopment and neurobiology of aggressive behaviour.]
“Um in a different manner than it was... projected on to water... basically impossible to document... It’s interesting to me... strange magic in that... projected on to water itself... to somehow... take an aggressive performance... although it would be exceedingly interesting to show, for example, how the archetypal world of Egypt was shaped by a static conception of eternity and time... mist on your skin... very powerful presence... strength... visceral live action... Art is at this stage of a collective phenomenon, which cannot be isolated from the context of collective existence but is integrated with the life of the group... also the works of other... and I think that it’s the strength of my work... Well, is there life after... Aughhh, you guys are so into art... fountains originated in that part of the world... of political significance to me...”
“… We thought… she was making… work… we wanted… a strong emotional impact… intense, political message…”
“It’s my role to articulate and speak about…”
“It’s kinda like a privilege…”
“Um… just to refresh my memory as to how insane that experience was… I had no idea what to expect… so intense… Before I was… I remember… it’s my most personal way of communicating through artistic expression… my identity… aboriginal female body in this place at this time… could be in the middle of nowhere… a way of really examining… just there to witness…”
“... garden? Back to the garden?”
[She has so much courage.]
“… As they fade into the distance… I think at the same time to look at the work… I like to keep it simple… I like to work outside. I like to wash things… and have them feel comfortable… I think that’s how… y’know we all watch movies… I’ve done many, many… and people remind me of what I did… in the body… communicating to other people in their bodies… I created this… while in residence… I chose to work… an abandoned concrete base I thought that was a good site to work… president of the university was having some kinda do… Anishnabe… and yes I do have a very specific… we all have our own histories, our own concerns… to go from being… Am I Anishnabe first? Are we all equal? Or am I just lucky?... There’s this whole… how you want to be with it… confusing… we have to do our work… I see myself… This is all I know how to do now… And sometimes I think society doesn’t want to see that…”
[I wonder where she got that drumstick from. Quite de sidekick she has der. I doubt Maro would ever do anything like dat for me, eh man?]
“… the backdrop that you see… beautiful flowers… It was huge… That day… I had to shift gears… It took about an hour and a half… I think that’s all… tonight… have a conversation… No, they wouldn’t allow me to do that…”
[HEY! (without sponsor) #20033007
- floor o’scholars an research, etc.
- exhibits essential features of steriotypy/habit disorder: intentional repetitive, nonfunctional behaviours (body-rocking, hair-pulling); noncommunicative, repetitive vocalizations performed in a certain rhythm/pattern
-exhibits spontaneous muscle twitching, hands assume position of main d’accoucheur, feet are extended with toes flexed, laryngeal spasms with convulsions
Chap got in de room somehow. I’m gonna hafta kick dat guy’s ass now. So much for de reception.]
“… I think… it made sense… the idea of a naked female body… is very disturbing… shining through the net that held the roses… a seediness, a weirdness to vehicles. They’re like another presence… There can only be one queen bee… Yet you’re documenting… something to be viewed separately… versus seeing in a video format… I think that I’m trying to examine myself… It’s there and then it’s gone… But it’s not the same… I think to try and maybe answer your question… Ok… I’m going to do my thing… And I’m going to try to give it the quality that… the water became the performer… It’s the water that’s moving… So that’s… But I think… I never paid attention to documentation… myth and rumour… I think that’s what I had… mostly… I’ve shifted to now paying more attention to documentation. I think that for me… light bulbs in the screen… good documentation… he was the documentor… He really captured the piece very well… That’s how I started to think… people who weren’t there… that piece is a video where I’m not in the piece… maybe that’s the way I’m heading.”
“Blood?”
“Uh, that’s a good question. I like what you said bout the idea of washing away… It’s the idea of applying blood… turning water into blood and blood into water… being alive… We need water, but water doesn’t need us… the colour white… something for me to think about. Thankyou.”
“Body?”
“… went to art school… found myself using my physical self… I fell into it naturally just through the nature of my personality… the vehicle of the body…”
“… materials talk to you?”
“Yeah, uh… You’ll see sculptural works or installation works… I have a tendency to keep things pretty clean… sculptures or objects that are much more pared down… less messy… harness the material in some way… red cedar log… looks beautiful to me… y’know if you make it too beautiful then it sucks… I want to say something about how we are as human beings… have some purpose…”
“…Images where you’re constrained… always fighting something?”
“I think it’s a human condition… restraining myself… people will feel the struggle… I like that, setting up a difficult situation for myself… that’s just why I need to do it in front of people…”
[She’s fuckin awesome!]
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Kretschmar took a big bite outta my soul today. Why? Just because she could. She felt that I had questioned her authority one too many times in the past week. She needed to take me down a notch. It happened during a BOARD meeting. I was doing a presentation that someone had actually requested.
"If anything, these two definitions illustrate how difficult it is to give non-circular, non-contradictory descriptions of both the conscious and unconscious minds. Indeed, at the end of his definition of consciousness Sutherland proclaims that nothing worth reading has been written on consciousness (we can only assume that he meant to include his own definition in this set, and it would seem that he would be correct in doing so). Sutherland even acknowledges that it is impossible to specify what consciousness is, what it does, or why it evolved.”
This is when Kretschmar pipes up, “What can you tell us, Dr. X, about consciousness from your own personal perspective?”
And I thought, what de fuck is dis about? So I jus carried on wid my presentation.
“In addition to housing the superego, the unconscious holds ‘all the material that a person cannot bring to consciousness because it has been repressed’. Assuming that this definition is indicative of a general psychoanalytic approach to consciousness, then a number of questions might be raised regarding such a description of the mind. How exactly does material come to be repressed?”
Everyone seemed to be enjoyin demselves, even Ellenberger was fascinated, interrupting me to state, “The assumption that a part of psychic life escapes man’s conscious knowledge has been held for many centuries. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, it attracted more attention; in the nineteenth, as one of the most highly debated problems, it became finally one of the cornerstones of modern dynamic psychiatry.”
An’den good ol’Kretschy went off again.
“What we want to know, Dr. X, is what consciousness is like from your first person perspective.”
And again, I thought, what de fuck?! Why is’he bringin dis up in a fuckin BOARD meetin? Seems like she’s tryin to humiliate me from her own personal perspective. So, I brought out my Heidegger.
“Essentially, Dasein is a being for whom Being is an issue. This issue becomes lost in the shuffle of its average-everday life. In order to live an authentic life Dasein must own up to its existence. A Dasein that is fully immersed in the They has no idea that anything is wrong. The moment before death (when Dasein alone, is inescapably confronted with the finiteness of its own Being and the groundlessness of its existence) might bring about a sudden revelation of mineness that will expose the veil of inauthenticity. The inauthentic Dasein will come to the realization that all actions and decisions up to that point were made in relation to a They that is really no one at all. This Dasein will experience a few seconds of anguish and then its entire existence will be over. Where the real trouble lies is with the capacitated, full-life-ahead-of-it Dasein that somehow catches a brief glimpse of the veil or becomes fully aware of the veil of the They (perhaps during a mid-life crisis, or through reading Being and Time). This Dasein is then cursed with the difficult task of establishing an authentic existence in the face of the They. Once the veil is revealed Dasein is faced with the conscious choice of living behind it. The real sin lies not in losing the Self (for that is inevitable) but in the choosing of an inauthentic life over an authentic one.”
A slight murmur came up from the audience. And den Kretschmar was shakin her head at me. She attacked again.
“We know all about what you’ve written on the subject of Heidegger’s Being and Time, Dr. X. But what can you tell us about how you feel?”
And I wanted to burn holes into her eyes. I wanted to stab her heart, rip it open. I remember saying, “Well, I can tell you dat I ain’t no fuckin tool,” right before I was shut down.
"If anything, these two definitions illustrate how difficult it is to give non-circular, non-contradictory descriptions of both the conscious and unconscious minds. Indeed, at the end of his definition of consciousness Sutherland proclaims that nothing worth reading has been written on consciousness (we can only assume that he meant to include his own definition in this set, and it would seem that he would be correct in doing so). Sutherland even acknowledges that it is impossible to specify what consciousness is, what it does, or why it evolved.”
This is when Kretschmar pipes up, “What can you tell us, Dr. X, about consciousness from your own personal perspective?”
And I thought, what de fuck is dis about? So I jus carried on wid my presentation.
“In addition to housing the superego, the unconscious holds ‘all the material that a person cannot bring to consciousness because it has been repressed’. Assuming that this definition is indicative of a general psychoanalytic approach to consciousness, then a number of questions might be raised regarding such a description of the mind. How exactly does material come to be repressed?”
Everyone seemed to be enjoyin demselves, even Ellenberger was fascinated, interrupting me to state, “The assumption that a part of psychic life escapes man’s conscious knowledge has been held for many centuries. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, it attracted more attention; in the nineteenth, as one of the most highly debated problems, it became finally one of the cornerstones of modern dynamic psychiatry.”
An’den good ol’Kretschy went off again.
“What we want to know, Dr. X, is what consciousness is like from your first person perspective.”
And again, I thought, what de fuck?! Why is’he bringin dis up in a fuckin BOARD meetin? Seems like she’s tryin to humiliate me from her own personal perspective. So, I brought out my Heidegger.
“Essentially, Dasein is a being for whom Being is an issue. This issue becomes lost in the shuffle of its average-everday life. In order to live an authentic life Dasein must own up to its existence. A Dasein that is fully immersed in the They has no idea that anything is wrong. The moment before death (when Dasein alone, is inescapably confronted with the finiteness of its own Being and the groundlessness of its existence) might bring about a sudden revelation of mineness that will expose the veil of inauthenticity. The inauthentic Dasein will come to the realization that all actions and decisions up to that point were made in relation to a They that is really no one at all. This Dasein will experience a few seconds of anguish and then its entire existence will be over. Where the real trouble lies is with the capacitated, full-life-ahead-of-it Dasein that somehow catches a brief glimpse of the veil or becomes fully aware of the veil of the They (perhaps during a mid-life crisis, or through reading Being and Time). This Dasein is then cursed with the difficult task of establishing an authentic existence in the face of the They. Once the veil is revealed Dasein is faced with the conscious choice of living behind it. The real sin lies not in losing the Self (for that is inevitable) but in the choosing of an inauthentic life over an authentic one.”
A slight murmur came up from the audience. And den Kretschmar was shakin her head at me. She attacked again.
“We know all about what you’ve written on the subject of Heidegger’s Being and Time, Dr. X. But what can you tell us about how you feel?”
And I wanted to burn holes into her eyes. I wanted to stab her heart, rip it open. I remember saying, “Well, I can tell you dat I ain’t no fuckin tool,” right before I was shut down.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The term human agency, or agency, recognizes the important fact that juveniles not only are acted upon by social influence and structural constraints, but also make choices and decisions based on the alternatives that they see before them. A longitudinal study on adolescent health (eating disorders, depression, substance abuse) in middle and secondary school boys and girls... A study evaluating prevention programs for adolescent females with body image concerns... school-based study of male adolescent mental health: depression, substance abuse, and eating disorders...
Perhaps it is public language that is responsible for a complex of rather distinctive features of human thought. Reflexive thinking will paradigmatically involve a direct and conscious cognitive access to target thoughts. Public language sentences are the only possible vehicles for thoughts that are to be the objects of reflexive thinking.
Should I help out wid’is’tudy?
Matthias Mehl:
“We are interested in how natural language in everyday conversation -”
“Exactly, but I like this... You couldn’t say that I’m shy... [laughing].”
“I went to a newsgroup last year... She’s a psychic... Judy, in my group, she’s so unhappy... But... You just take these trips...”
“Hmmm...”
“New York... The divorce hadn’t gone through, yet... And then they broke up... One day...”
“So, it could be the last day... I wrote everything... I... I... I... Friends.”
I believe I might be rather good at this task. ha ha ha.
“- conveys psychological information about a person. Using new behaviour/language sampling technology -”
Lord knows we can use more of that. ha ha ha.
“ - for FIELD research, we are going to reconstruct a person’s linguistic fingerprint from his or her daily interactions and relate it to a variety of self-reported personality characteristics, situational variables and physiological markers (e.g. blood pressure, cortisol, testosterone).”
Lying. They’re talking about liars. ha ha ha. Now if only I had the choice regarding whether or not I wanted to work on dis’tudy. ha ahha ha.
Perhaps it is public language that is responsible for a complex of rather distinctive features of human thought. Reflexive thinking will paradigmatically involve a direct and conscious cognitive access to target thoughts. Public language sentences are the only possible vehicles for thoughts that are to be the objects of reflexive thinking.
Should I help out wid’is’tudy?
Matthias Mehl:
“We are interested in how natural language in everyday conversation -”
“Exactly, but I like this... You couldn’t say that I’m shy... [laughing].”
“I went to a newsgroup last year... She’s a psychic... Judy, in my group, she’s so unhappy... But... You just take these trips...”
“Hmmm...”
“New York... The divorce hadn’t gone through, yet... And then they broke up... One day...”
“So, it could be the last day... I wrote everything... I... I... I... Friends.”
I believe I might be rather good at this task. ha ha ha.
“- conveys psychological information about a person. Using new behaviour/language sampling technology -”
Lord knows we can use more of that. ha ha ha.
“ - for FIELD research, we are going to reconstruct a person’s linguistic fingerprint from his or her daily interactions and relate it to a variety of self-reported personality characteristics, situational variables and physiological markers (e.g. blood pressure, cortisol, testosterone).”
Lying. They’re talking about liars. ha ha ha. Now if only I had the choice regarding whether or not I wanted to work on dis’tudy. ha ahha ha.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
I’ve been a little despondent with everyone else except for um, yeah, everyone. FU man. What, what universe did i attend? it’s called FU, what’s yours? That’s why you ain’t got a date. I should be talking to her navel, saying you need not worry bout fallowing out there. to be completed at a later date.
on a friday night everything all right, checking your jacknife if i had never gotten the train the code the trauma in the head. lateral head trauma coma. I dunno if I should hold off that long, though, I gotta hear a song, don’t you know? that you are a shooting star. c’mon play, you SOB, you jus gotta learn to play with the right people, y’know. start from the top and make your way down. jus like Alice in Wonderland.... That really worries me. in a car her grandfather again. fractals connected. fibraccio. libarace. Maro is part of the extremely closed circuit.
Maro is a telekinetic photomachine. The ultimate gadget. Can take still photos, can shoot moving images. Maro can send notes to other similar gadgets across time and space. She used to eat lettuce, but not so much anymore. I dunno... You can’t trust her, ever, not even for one cool minute. You gotta remember that. You gotta keep that fear in your heart. The terrible thing is that she wants you to have that fear there. It should be about respect. That’s what you’d think it would be about, but it’s not. It’s all about fear and the kind of control that she has over you. She needs to have that control, no matter what situation she’s in. KRETSCHMAR. She’s probably listening to this right now.
She has her minions. And you have to watch out for them at all times.
I once looked up to her. I almost admired her. Almost. I thought she had something like compassion. But I was dead wrong. It’s not compassion afterall. It’s jus’elf preservation, a sickening, destructive kind of self-preservation. She’s only nice to you as an after-thought, or perhaps she actually needs something from you, though she would never want you to know it. She will demand things from you. That’s all. She will never admit to actually needing you.
If I can get through that on a regular basis, then I think that I can get through just about anything. I would much rather be physically beaten than have the piss kicked outta my soul.
on a friday night everything all right, checking your jacknife if i had never gotten the train the code the trauma in the head. lateral head trauma coma. I dunno if I should hold off that long, though, I gotta hear a song, don’t you know? that you are a shooting star. c’mon play, you SOB, you jus gotta learn to play with the right people, y’know. start from the top and make your way down. jus like Alice in Wonderland.... That really worries me. in a car her grandfather again. fractals connected. fibraccio. libarace. Maro is part of the extremely closed circuit.
Maro is a telekinetic photomachine. The ultimate gadget. Can take still photos, can shoot moving images. Maro can send notes to other similar gadgets across time and space. She used to eat lettuce, but not so much anymore. I dunno... You can’t trust her, ever, not even for one cool minute. You gotta remember that. You gotta keep that fear in your heart. The terrible thing is that she wants you to have that fear there. It should be about respect. That’s what you’d think it would be about, but it’s not. It’s all about fear and the kind of control that she has over you. She needs to have that control, no matter what situation she’s in. KRETSCHMAR. She’s probably listening to this right now.
She has her minions. And you have to watch out for them at all times.
I once looked up to her. I almost admired her. Almost. I thought she had something like compassion. But I was dead wrong. It’s not compassion afterall. It’s jus’elf preservation, a sickening, destructive kind of self-preservation. She’s only nice to you as an after-thought, or perhaps she actually needs something from you, though she would never want you to know it. She will demand things from you. That’s all. She will never admit to actually needing you.
If I can get through that on a regular basis, then I think that I can get through just about anything. I would much rather be physically beaten than have the piss kicked outta my soul.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Here’s de new form for admittance dey asked me for.
PATIENT:
PHOTO:
TREATMENT RECORD:
ANOMALIES:
RADIOGRAPHIC FINDINGS:
ADDITIONAL FINDINGS
DETAIL:
PERCUSSION SENSITIVE:
ABNORMAL WEAR:
DETAIL:
SUMMARY OF DIAGNOSIS:
TREATMENT PLAN IN SEQUENCE:
PROGNOSIS:
Canadian Mental Health Association
Canadian Life and Health Insurance Association Inc.
Standard Mental Health Claim Form
PART 1 Doctor Unique No. SPEC.
Patient’s Office Account No.
I HEREBY ASSIGN MY BENEFITS PAYABLE FROM THIS CLAIM TO THE NAMED DOCTORS AND AUTHORIZE PAYMENT DIRECTLY TO HIM/HER. Please Remit Payment to (Signature on File)
______________________________________________________________
SIGNATURE OF SUBSCRIBER
FOR DOCTORS USE ONLY - FOR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION, DIAGNOSIS, PRECEDURES, OR SPECIAL CONSIDERATIONS
I UNDERSTAND THAT THE FEES LISTED IN THIS CLAIM MAY NOT BE COVERED BY OR MAY EXCEED MY PLAN BENEFITS. I UNDERSTAND THAT I AM FINANCIALLY RESPONSIBLE TO MY DOCTOR FOR THE ENTIRE TREATMENT. I ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THE TOTAL FEE IS ACCURATE AND HAS BEEN CHARGED TO ME FOR SERVICES RENDERED. I AUTHORIZE RELEASE OF THE INFORMATION CONTAINED IN THIS CLAIM FORM TO MY INSURING COMPANY/PLAN ADMINISTRATOR. I ALSO AUTHORIZE THE COMMUNICATION OF INFORMATION RELATED TO THE COVERAGE OF SERVICES DESCRIBED IN THIS FORM TO THE NAMED DOCTOR.
___________________________________________________________
SIGNATURE OF PATIENT (PARENT/GUARDIAN)
OFFICE VERIFICATION
I know dat it ain too excitin, but i’s got all de necessary fields.
Seat patient in consult room with doctor. What is your primary concern?
Like it ever fuckin happens dat way. Der’s no fuckin time.
“It is likewise to reduce real time to abstract physical time, to the essentially quantitative time which is that of the objectivity of mundane calendars from which the signs that gave a sacred qualification to every present have disappeared.”
More Henry Corbin, not like it’s ever gonna do me any good. I’m not even allowed to be concerned with the difference between what’s alive and what isn’t.
What can we do for you today?
COMMON USES: This medicine is a benzodiazepine used to relieve anxiety and cause drowsiness before certain medical procedures. It may also be used to treat other conditions as determined by your doctor.
ADDITIONAL MONITORING OF YOUR DOSE OR CONDITION may be needed if you are taking metformin, probenecid, or blood thinners (such as warfarin). THIS MEDICINE MAY AFFECT CERTAIN LAB TEST RESULTS. Make sure laboratory personnel and your doctors know you use this medicine. When the room fills what will that be like?
Furthermore, I have all dese other assignments dat Kretschmar’s asked me to complete. Assist with one or more studies exploring language development. How infants identify the sound patterns of their native languages; how toddlers learn word meanings; interactions between language and conceptual development in two-four year-olds. Coding recorded data.
What is it to have successful communication? True beliefs are essential to interpretation, though there’s always some possibility of error. Successful communication entails mainly true beliefs are being held by both communicators. You have to assume that a believer holds true beliefs in order to allow for communication at all. This is Davidson’s Principle of Charity. It seems to take us back to a notion of similarity. Davidson says that if knowing one’s thoughts depends on external factors (for individuation) then thoughts would be altered according to environment.
I bin readin Carey’s posts lately. She seems pretty angry, though she refuses to engage in any sort of communication with me. Can’t really blame her for dat, I s’pose.
Do people pay attention to me at all? Similar changes in the expression of anxiety also occur. In the beginning of therapy, anxiety may be diffuse.The patient may be generally withdrawn and frightened, tense and garrulous, or over-anxious about being clean, neat, orderly. Reminds me of someone trying to eat soap. Who was dat, Maro?
Maybe if I changed her environment or something.
Before we left the fire to go in we had to study the sky: the weather, the stars.
PATIENT:
PHOTO:
TREATMENT RECORD:
ANOMALIES:
RADIOGRAPHIC FINDINGS:
ADDITIONAL FINDINGS
DETAIL:
PERCUSSION SENSITIVE:
ABNORMAL WEAR:
DETAIL:
SUMMARY OF DIAGNOSIS:
TREATMENT PLAN IN SEQUENCE:
PROGNOSIS:
Canadian Mental Health Association
Canadian Life and Health Insurance Association Inc.
Standard Mental Health Claim Form
PART 1 Doctor Unique No. SPEC.
Patient’s Office Account No.
I HEREBY ASSIGN MY BENEFITS PAYABLE FROM THIS CLAIM TO THE NAMED DOCTORS AND AUTHORIZE PAYMENT DIRECTLY TO HIM/HER. Please Remit Payment to (Signature on File)
______________________________________________________________
SIGNATURE OF SUBSCRIBER
FOR DOCTORS USE ONLY - FOR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION, DIAGNOSIS, PRECEDURES, OR SPECIAL CONSIDERATIONS
I UNDERSTAND THAT THE FEES LISTED IN THIS CLAIM MAY NOT BE COVERED BY OR MAY EXCEED MY PLAN BENEFITS. I UNDERSTAND THAT I AM FINANCIALLY RESPONSIBLE TO MY DOCTOR FOR THE ENTIRE TREATMENT. I ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THE TOTAL FEE IS ACCURATE AND HAS BEEN CHARGED TO ME FOR SERVICES RENDERED. I AUTHORIZE RELEASE OF THE INFORMATION CONTAINED IN THIS CLAIM FORM TO MY INSURING COMPANY/PLAN ADMINISTRATOR. I ALSO AUTHORIZE THE COMMUNICATION OF INFORMATION RELATED TO THE COVERAGE OF SERVICES DESCRIBED IN THIS FORM TO THE NAMED DOCTOR.
___________________________________________________________
SIGNATURE OF PATIENT (PARENT/GUARDIAN)
OFFICE VERIFICATION
I know dat it ain too excitin, but i’s got all de necessary fields.
Seat patient in consult room with doctor. What is your primary concern?
Like it ever fuckin happens dat way. Der’s no fuckin time.
“It is likewise to reduce real time to abstract physical time, to the essentially quantitative time which is that of the objectivity of mundane calendars from which the signs that gave a sacred qualification to every present have disappeared.”
More Henry Corbin, not like it’s ever gonna do me any good. I’m not even allowed to be concerned with the difference between what’s alive and what isn’t.
What can we do for you today?
COMMON USES: This medicine is a benzodiazepine used to relieve anxiety and cause drowsiness before certain medical procedures. It may also be used to treat other conditions as determined by your doctor.
ADDITIONAL MONITORING OF YOUR DOSE OR CONDITION may be needed if you are taking metformin, probenecid, or blood thinners (such as warfarin). THIS MEDICINE MAY AFFECT CERTAIN LAB TEST RESULTS. Make sure laboratory personnel and your doctors know you use this medicine. When the room fills what will that be like?
Furthermore, I have all dese other assignments dat Kretschmar’s asked me to complete. Assist with one or more studies exploring language development. How infants identify the sound patterns of their native languages; how toddlers learn word meanings; interactions between language and conceptual development in two-four year-olds. Coding recorded data.
What is it to have successful communication? True beliefs are essential to interpretation, though there’s always some possibility of error. Successful communication entails mainly true beliefs are being held by both communicators. You have to assume that a believer holds true beliefs in order to allow for communication at all. This is Davidson’s Principle of Charity. It seems to take us back to a notion of similarity. Davidson says that if knowing one’s thoughts depends on external factors (for individuation) then thoughts would be altered according to environment.
I bin readin Carey’s posts lately. She seems pretty angry, though she refuses to engage in any sort of communication with me. Can’t really blame her for dat, I s’pose.
Do people pay attention to me at all? Similar changes in the expression of anxiety also occur. In the beginning of therapy, anxiety may be diffuse.The patient may be generally withdrawn and frightened, tense and garrulous, or over-anxious about being clean, neat, orderly. Reminds me of someone trying to eat soap. Who was dat, Maro?
Maybe if I changed her environment or something.
Before we left the fire to go in we had to study the sky: the weather, the stars.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Der’s gonna be trouble in JMac’s session today, I know it. Maro, look what he turned in to Jo: Ill Communication
These days, everyone is up in arms over decisions made by the CRTC regarding Canadian content. However, there is a much larger issue at stake here, namely access to the very infrastructures over which Canadian content is transmitted. Generally, people seem to feel that more competition can only be a good thing for the Canadian consumer. According to major telecommunications companies like Telus, opening up the Canadian marketplace will result in better services at lower rates. However, it’s likely that the average Canadian consumer will end up paying more for a basic level of service.
The former monopoly telecommunications companies no longer have an interest in maintaining a basic level of service for individual consumers. When these companies compete for marketshare in a particular location, they do so by offering an initially low rate that does not last for the duration of the contract that a consumer must sign in order to receive service. This is bad enough in cities that can support a variety of options for telecommunications services. The consumer must be vigilant and read the fine print whenever a contract is signed, all the while remaining aware of the fact that the company with whom the contract is being signed will not have the consumer’s best interests at heart. In the end, a city-dweller could simply refuse to sign-up for any internet or phone connection. Living and working in a city without these services certainly isn’t fun, but it probably won’t endanger your life. When it comes to the great number of sparsely populated communities that make up Canada, it’s not safe to live and work without telecommunications. In fact, it’s pretty risky to live in isolation without immediate contact with other members of one’s community. There are many small communities in Canada that have yet to receive the capacity to serve cell phones; but this will change in May of 2008 when Canadian wireless spectrum will again be auctioned-off. These are isolated areas, where people have greater need for cell phones than those who live in cities. Originally, these areas were serviced by the former monopoly companies who ran landline telecommunications in Canada on behalf of Canadian citizens. It used to be the case that any Canadian who wanted phone service could have it by paying a fee that was in keeping with the cost of living at the time. The infrastructure of this system of telecommunication was sponsored by the Canadian government because it was in the best interest of the average, tax-paying citizen. Times have certainly changed, but for isolated communities throughout Canada telecommunications are still akin to an essential service.
It might seem as though today’s fast-paced technological developments would create potential for new modes of telecommunication, however, most of the technology being developed is already owned by the largest corporations in Canadian telecommunications. The Canadian Association of Voice Over IP Providers is a not-for-profit group formed in 2005 by voice over IP providers who felt they needed a means to lobby for their concerns with the telecommunications industry. Leslie Bester, a CAVP board member, maintains that VOIP could not exist without access to competition networks. “Somehow, someone feels that it is possible to build the same infrastructure and compete, trenching fiber, conduits and building a parallel network... It’s simply impossible.” He believes that because it is dominated by a only a few carriers “there is effectively no competition in the wireless arena in Canada”. Even if an up-and-coming new wireless company manages to do well against Canada’s big three (Bell, Rogers, and Telus), chances are that one of these corporations will buy that company out. One example of this occurrence is Fido. Somehow Microcell Connexions, Inc. was able to launch Fido in 1996. They had won a bid for wireless spectrum in the auction that took place in 1995. Yet, by 2002 Microcell was struggling. Andre Tremblay, then President and Chief Executive Officer of Microcell Telecommunications cited “the currently unfavourable market conditions in the wireless telecommunications and mobile internet sector” as the reason for discontinuing its efforts to externally market a new mobile commerce platform. This decision resulted in the elimination of 18 positions in their Montreal office, including the Chief Operating Officer of the project. By 2003, Microcell was filing for bankruptcy protection and by 2004 they had accepted an offer from Rogers Communications for $1.4-billion. Another example of this occurence is Clearnet Communications. Telus chose not to fight for wireless spectrum in the auction of 1995. Instead, they waited and watched while Clearnet Communications, another company that had won a wireless spectrum bid, slowly went under. As the year 2000 rolled in, Telus took control of Clearnet Communications for $6.6-billion. Granted, this was the largest deal in the history of Canadian telecommunications, which might have been wonderful for the people of Clearnet Communications but not so great for the Canadian consumer. At the time of the merger, Clearnet had the maximum amount of bandwidth allowed by Ottawa. Now, Telus has more wireless spectrum allocated to them than any other wireless company in Canada. And they want more.
Everyone knows dat shit was written by C. Gibson, way back at de beginnin o’de millenium, fer fuck’sake. Does JMac think we’re idiots? Maybe he’s tryin to tell us somethin. What de fuck is he doin? Plus, his evaluation is comin up. Time to find out whether he ready to mix wid real society yet. Maybe da’s why he actin up. Alright, den. Lets find JMac an do some sorta simulation, already. This issue is pertinent to nonconditioning paradigms in which awareness of experimental contingencies is measured.
“But at that point it was concluded that the crime itself could only have been committed in a state of some temporary disturbance of the mind, as it were, under the influence of some dangerous monomania...”
“If I may interrupt you for a moment, I’d like to tell you more about the awareness measure used in JMac’s, uh sorry, #060997’s case.”
“You have the floor, now, Dr. X.”
“This awareness measure is directed toward a different set of hypotheses, one other than what was originally recorded.”
“You mean you changed the scope of this particular experiment?”
“It has more to do with the subject’s knowledge of what behavioral outcome is predicted. Here, let me just show you this’imulation. I think you’ll get a better understanding of what I’m trying to explain.”
To learn more about your opportunities and career choices the Townsend College of Counsellor Training invites you to attend an Information Session on available courses and programs.
Counselling Career Aptitude Assessment
Confidentiality: Because the field of cousellor training and practice involves personal qualities needed by the applicant, a proper assessment of individual potential requires an exploration of areas related to the personal life experiences of the applicant. The information provided on this form is kept strictly confidential and is used only for admission and advising purposes for the applicant.
Submit this completed assessment to reception at your earliest convenience.
1. Discuss the statement: “Everyone can benefit from counselling.”
“This is fuckin bullshit, man. Why do I gotta even think about this shit?”
“Well, JMac, I dunno what else to say to you. Want an entry level position?”
“You know what that sounds like to me, man?”
“Yeah, I know, but we gotta start you off somewhere. You gotta have goals. Whether you like it or not, you gotta have goals.”
“You mean, I gotta have gaols.”
“Wha?”
Where did’at fuckin vocabulary come from? JMac been playin a lotta Scrabulous lately or what? Or, could be dis ain JMac at all. Better turn on de Turing test. Ha ha ha.
“Listen, JMac. At least one or two members o’de panel (especially de psychologists) are gonna be askin you dese kinda questions. If you were actually to admit de possibility dat you were at fault... You need to acknowledge de part dat you play in dis whole process, JMac. For your own good.”
“Good? What does any of you mothafuckers know about good!”
His levels are shootin outta control. He’s gonna get reprimanded if he don’t watch it. Certainly SEEMS like JMac.
“I’m fuckin public property, man! They don’t care about MY good.”
“Speakin as a person who is also public property, I can tell you dat dey care very much about YOUR good. If you self-destruct, or take someone else down wid you somehow, den they’ll lose der investment. It’s as simple as dat JMac. Everyone wants you healthy. We ain’t an SB clinic.”
At least, as far as I know we ain’t.
These days, everyone is up in arms over decisions made by the CRTC regarding Canadian content. However, there is a much larger issue at stake here, namely access to the very infrastructures over which Canadian content is transmitted. Generally, people seem to feel that more competition can only be a good thing for the Canadian consumer. According to major telecommunications companies like Telus, opening up the Canadian marketplace will result in better services at lower rates. However, it’s likely that the average Canadian consumer will end up paying more for a basic level of service.
The former monopoly telecommunications companies no longer have an interest in maintaining a basic level of service for individual consumers. When these companies compete for marketshare in a particular location, they do so by offering an initially low rate that does not last for the duration of the contract that a consumer must sign in order to receive service. This is bad enough in cities that can support a variety of options for telecommunications services. The consumer must be vigilant and read the fine print whenever a contract is signed, all the while remaining aware of the fact that the company with whom the contract is being signed will not have the consumer’s best interests at heart. In the end, a city-dweller could simply refuse to sign-up for any internet or phone connection. Living and working in a city without these services certainly isn’t fun, but it probably won’t endanger your life. When it comes to the great number of sparsely populated communities that make up Canada, it’s not safe to live and work without telecommunications. In fact, it’s pretty risky to live in isolation without immediate contact with other members of one’s community. There are many small communities in Canada that have yet to receive the capacity to serve cell phones; but this will change in May of 2008 when Canadian wireless spectrum will again be auctioned-off. These are isolated areas, where people have greater need for cell phones than those who live in cities. Originally, these areas were serviced by the former monopoly companies who ran landline telecommunications in Canada on behalf of Canadian citizens. It used to be the case that any Canadian who wanted phone service could have it by paying a fee that was in keeping with the cost of living at the time. The infrastructure of this system of telecommunication was sponsored by the Canadian government because it was in the best interest of the average, tax-paying citizen. Times have certainly changed, but for isolated communities throughout Canada telecommunications are still akin to an essential service.
It might seem as though today’s fast-paced technological developments would create potential for new modes of telecommunication, however, most of the technology being developed is already owned by the largest corporations in Canadian telecommunications. The Canadian Association of Voice Over IP Providers is a not-for-profit group formed in 2005 by voice over IP providers who felt they needed a means to lobby for their concerns with the telecommunications industry. Leslie Bester, a CAVP board member, maintains that VOIP could not exist without access to competition networks. “Somehow, someone feels that it is possible to build the same infrastructure and compete, trenching fiber, conduits and building a parallel network... It’s simply impossible.” He believes that because it is dominated by a only a few carriers “there is effectively no competition in the wireless arena in Canada”. Even if an up-and-coming new wireless company manages to do well against Canada’s big three (Bell, Rogers, and Telus), chances are that one of these corporations will buy that company out. One example of this occurrence is Fido. Somehow Microcell Connexions, Inc. was able to launch Fido in 1996. They had won a bid for wireless spectrum in the auction that took place in 1995. Yet, by 2002 Microcell was struggling. Andre Tremblay, then President and Chief Executive Officer of Microcell Telecommunications cited “the currently unfavourable market conditions in the wireless telecommunications and mobile internet sector” as the reason for discontinuing its efforts to externally market a new mobile commerce platform. This decision resulted in the elimination of 18 positions in their Montreal office, including the Chief Operating Officer of the project. By 2003, Microcell was filing for bankruptcy protection and by 2004 they had accepted an offer from Rogers Communications for $1.4-billion. Another example of this occurence is Clearnet Communications. Telus chose not to fight for wireless spectrum in the auction of 1995. Instead, they waited and watched while Clearnet Communications, another company that had won a wireless spectrum bid, slowly went under. As the year 2000 rolled in, Telus took control of Clearnet Communications for $6.6-billion. Granted, this was the largest deal in the history of Canadian telecommunications, which might have been wonderful for the people of Clearnet Communications but not so great for the Canadian consumer. At the time of the merger, Clearnet had the maximum amount of bandwidth allowed by Ottawa. Now, Telus has more wireless spectrum allocated to them than any other wireless company in Canada. And they want more.
Everyone knows dat shit was written by C. Gibson, way back at de beginnin o’de millenium, fer fuck’sake. Does JMac think we’re idiots? Maybe he’s tryin to tell us somethin. What de fuck is he doin? Plus, his evaluation is comin up. Time to find out whether he ready to mix wid real society yet. Maybe da’s why he actin up. Alright, den. Lets find JMac an do some sorta simulation, already. This issue is pertinent to nonconditioning paradigms in which awareness of experimental contingencies is measured.
“But at that point it was concluded that the crime itself could only have been committed in a state of some temporary disturbance of the mind, as it were, under the influence of some dangerous monomania...”
“If I may interrupt you for a moment, I’d like to tell you more about the awareness measure used in JMac’s, uh sorry, #060997’s case.”
“You have the floor, now, Dr. X.”
“This awareness measure is directed toward a different set of hypotheses, one other than what was originally recorded.”
“You mean you changed the scope of this particular experiment?”
“It has more to do with the subject’s knowledge of what behavioral outcome is predicted. Here, let me just show you this’imulation. I think you’ll get a better understanding of what I’m trying to explain.”
To learn more about your opportunities and career choices the Townsend College of Counsellor Training invites you to attend an Information Session on available courses and programs.
Counselling Career Aptitude Assessment
Confidentiality: Because the field of cousellor training and practice involves personal qualities needed by the applicant, a proper assessment of individual potential requires an exploration of areas related to the personal life experiences of the applicant. The information provided on this form is kept strictly confidential and is used only for admission and advising purposes for the applicant.
Submit this completed assessment to reception at your earliest convenience.
1. Discuss the statement: “Everyone can benefit from counselling.”
“This is fuckin bullshit, man. Why do I gotta even think about this shit?”
“Well, JMac, I dunno what else to say to you. Want an entry level position?”
“You know what that sounds like to me, man?”
“Yeah, I know, but we gotta start you off somewhere. You gotta have goals. Whether you like it or not, you gotta have goals.”
“You mean, I gotta have gaols.”
“Wha?”
Where did’at fuckin vocabulary come from? JMac been playin a lotta Scrabulous lately or what? Or, could be dis ain JMac at all. Better turn on de Turing test. Ha ha ha.
“Listen, JMac. At least one or two members o’de panel (especially de psychologists) are gonna be askin you dese kinda questions. If you were actually to admit de possibility dat you were at fault... You need to acknowledge de part dat you play in dis whole process, JMac. For your own good.”
“Good? What does any of you mothafuckers know about good!”
His levels are shootin outta control. He’s gonna get reprimanded if he don’t watch it. Certainly SEEMS like JMac.
“I’m fuckin public property, man! They don’t care about MY good.”
“Speakin as a person who is also public property, I can tell you dat dey care very much about YOUR good. If you self-destruct, or take someone else down wid you somehow, den they’ll lose der investment. It’s as simple as dat JMac. Everyone wants you healthy. We ain’t an SB clinic.”
At least, as far as I know we ain’t.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
“It was in A Dorm. I was beginnin to sharpen my senses to a very fine point. I taught myself to sleep soundly. But I can wake up totally alert if anyone comes within a metre of my bed. I can sense stares when my back is turned. And I know never to sleep with my bedding tucked in.”
Well, dis definitely sounds like JMac.
“So, dis all before you came to Townsend, right? In one o’dem SB facilities down south?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you should tell dis’hit to de committee when you meet wid’em, y’know? Jus’tell’em like it is. Don’t hold back.”
“When I went into highschool the fuckin guidance counselor steered me. He said,
‘You’re industrial arts.’ Y’know, latex shops, synthetic binding, makin boxes, glass, all o’that fuckin toxic shit.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“The whole point was you were assigned to that because you were disposable. Nobody cared what happened to me, like ever, man. So how am I s’posed to care? I don’t even need to be alive until twenty-five. What’s the point? All the good shit’s over by then, if there was ever any in the first place.”
“JMac, I can’t really give you a good reason to stay alive. In and of itself, that’s just the thing: there is no good reason to live. That’s the absurdity of it all. I do know that if you were to die, I would miss you -”
“Yeah, but you’re just a-”
“Shutup, man. I’m tryna tell you somethin. The only thing that makes life worth living is the people around you.”
“Yeah, but they’re all shit.”
“Who you callin shit?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Oh, so I ain’t a real person. Is dat it?”
“When the committee asks me about the riot, I say nothing. You say, ‘Why?’ I say, ‘Why bother?’”
Dis kid gettin as bad as Randt wid’e goddam movie quotes. I wonder if even he knows where he gets dem from.
“JMac dis’erious, man. Dis meetin can change yer life. Don’t you wanna go somewhere OUT of Townsend one day?”
Well, dis definitely sounds like JMac.
“So, dis all before you came to Townsend, right? In one o’dem SB facilities down south?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you should tell dis’hit to de committee when you meet wid’em, y’know? Jus’tell’em like it is. Don’t hold back.”
“When I went into highschool the fuckin guidance counselor steered me. He said,
‘You’re industrial arts.’ Y’know, latex shops, synthetic binding, makin boxes, glass, all o’that fuckin toxic shit.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“The whole point was you were assigned to that because you were disposable. Nobody cared what happened to me, like ever, man. So how am I s’posed to care? I don’t even need to be alive until twenty-five. What’s the point? All the good shit’s over by then, if there was ever any in the first place.”
“JMac, I can’t really give you a good reason to stay alive. In and of itself, that’s just the thing: there is no good reason to live. That’s the absurdity of it all. I do know that if you were to die, I would miss you -”
“Yeah, but you’re just a-”
“Shutup, man. I’m tryna tell you somethin. The only thing that makes life worth living is the people around you.”
“Yeah, but they’re all shit.”
“Who you callin shit?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Oh, so I ain’t a real person. Is dat it?”
“When the committee asks me about the riot, I say nothing. You say, ‘Why?’ I say, ‘Why bother?’”
Dis kid gettin as bad as Randt wid’e goddam movie quotes. I wonder if even he knows where he gets dem from.
“JMac dis’erious, man. Dis meetin can change yer life. Don’t you wanna go somewhere OUT of Townsend one day?”
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
“Yeah, I know. After the interview, send a thankyou note, etc., etc.”
After the interview, send a Thank-You Note. When you call back say, “I have now met with many people in the industry and have now targeted some companies I would like to work for. I was very impressed with your organization so I wanted to let you know I am very interested in your company and would like the opportunity to work there. Is it okay if I forward my resume to you? (only if you have not yet given it to them). If you know of any position for which I might be qualified will you please let me know? I will keep in touch and let you know how it is going?”
After your initial follow up call, call back in two or three weeks and say: “I just wanted to let you know I am still open to work for your company and wanted to check in with you to see if you had any leads or heard of anything coming up.”
Keep accurate records of each call and what was said.
Remember that these contacts may be useful even when you are working so make sure you maintain the relationship you have developed with them by staying in touch. Lastly... follow up, follow up, follow up!!!
“It sounds to me, JMac, dat you gotta start somewhere, eh?”
“An entry level position? You know what that sounds like to me? To me, it sounds like pushin a fuckin broom around for the next 20 fuckin years, man.”
“I know what you’re scared of -”
“SCARED? Scared? I’ve been turning upside down. SCARED? There are guys in the Field who done a lot of reading on these kinda jobs. You know, like, there’s running a lathe, and it’s gonna take an hour to go from here to there with the cutting tool. My dad used to read on that kinda job. I remember when me an my dad would wander down to the rocks along Lake Michigan. We’d talk the whole night - about baseball, about family, about his union. So, when he got me my first job it was in the South plant machine shop. The guys called it ‘Happy Valley’ because compared to places like the blast furnace, it was a pretty great place to work. Real fuckin work, man.”
Where de fuck is he gettin dis’hit from? His dad. Oh well, one cliche deserves another.
“A workin class hero is somethin to be.”
“Most of the time, people are hardly ever doing the tasks assigned to them in their job description. It’s like those things take up a fragment of their day and they just spend the rest of their time wanking-off, or figuring out how to climb up the ladder to their next promotion. And then because...”
This session is goin downhill fast. Wait. What’s that? Jo is openin the door to Kretschmar’s office.
“Shhshshh, JMac. Be quiet for a second, ok? I gotta listen.”
The man behind the mask is underneath the fan now.
“LISTEN? You gotta LISTEN? You supposed to be listenin to me, man!”
“I want to listen to someone other dan you for a minute, ok? Gawd, JMac, sometimes you’re so self-centered.”
“What the fuck, man? This is MY fuckin session!”
“Shhhshhh!”
After the interview, send a Thank-You Note. When you call back say, “I have now met with many people in the industry and have now targeted some companies I would like to work for. I was very impressed with your organization so I wanted to let you know I am very interested in your company and would like the opportunity to work there. Is it okay if I forward my resume to you? (only if you have not yet given it to them). If you know of any position for which I might be qualified will you please let me know? I will keep in touch and let you know how it is going?”
After your initial follow up call, call back in two or three weeks and say: “I just wanted to let you know I am still open to work for your company and wanted to check in with you to see if you had any leads or heard of anything coming up.”
Keep accurate records of each call and what was said.
Remember that these contacts may be useful even when you are working so make sure you maintain the relationship you have developed with them by staying in touch. Lastly... follow up, follow up, follow up!!!
“It sounds to me, JMac, dat you gotta start somewhere, eh?”
“An entry level position? You know what that sounds like to me? To me, it sounds like pushin a fuckin broom around for the next 20 fuckin years, man.”
“I know what you’re scared of -”
“SCARED? Scared? I’ve been turning upside down. SCARED? There are guys in the Field who done a lot of reading on these kinda jobs. You know, like, there’s running a lathe, and it’s gonna take an hour to go from here to there with the cutting tool. My dad used to read on that kinda job. I remember when me an my dad would wander down to the rocks along Lake Michigan. We’d talk the whole night - about baseball, about family, about his union. So, when he got me my first job it was in the South plant machine shop. The guys called it ‘Happy Valley’ because compared to places like the blast furnace, it was a pretty great place to work. Real fuckin work, man.”
Where de fuck is he gettin dis’hit from? His dad. Oh well, one cliche deserves another.
“A workin class hero is somethin to be.”
“Most of the time, people are hardly ever doing the tasks assigned to them in their job description. It’s like those things take up a fragment of their day and they just spend the rest of their time wanking-off, or figuring out how to climb up the ladder to their next promotion. And then because...”
This session is goin downhill fast. Wait. What’s that? Jo is openin the door to Kretschmar’s office.
“Shhshshh, JMac. Be quiet for a second, ok? I gotta listen.”
The man behind the mask is underneath the fan now.
“LISTEN? You gotta LISTEN? You supposed to be listenin to me, man!”
“I want to listen to someone other dan you for a minute, ok? Gawd, JMac, sometimes you’re so self-centered.”
“What the fuck, man? This is MY fuckin session!”
“Shhhshhh!”
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Jo is inside Kretschmar's office. Why?
"Hey there, Dr. Kretschmar?"
"Hmm?"
She barely looks up from her paperwork.
"I was uh, wondering, do you think that you could, like turn Dr. X down or something?"
Kretschmar looks up, confusion on her face.
"What do you mean, turn her down? Is there something wrong?"
"Well, it's just that, well. She seems kinda hyper lately, almost, y'know, like manic or something."
"Hmmm. I'll look into it. Monitor her behaviour over the next week and get back to me. I'll see what I can do."
"Ok. Thanks. See ya later."
Kretschmar's already gone back to her paperwork.
"Hey there, Dr. Kretschmar?"
"Hmm?"
She barely looks up from her paperwork.
"I was uh, wondering, do you think that you could, like turn Dr. X down or something?"
Kretschmar looks up, confusion on her face.
"What do you mean, turn her down? Is there something wrong?"
"Well, it's just that, well. She seems kinda hyper lately, almost, y'know, like manic or something."
"Hmmm. I'll look into it. Monitor her behaviour over the next week and get back to me. I'll see what I can do."
"Ok. Thanks. See ya later."
Kretschmar's already gone back to her paperwork.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Prin tried living on her own once, for a whole summer. In fact, I got to bear witness to this attempt because it was me wid whom she shared a place. Dis where d’irony is. You gotta know what Pane an Pinch is really like in order to appreciate it. When I first moved into da neighbourhood... Actually, da’s how me an Prin met. Both of us got into Dork U. And we both needed a roommate. So, we enlisted online and each other is what we found. Together we went out in search of an apartment.
So mosta d'houses we looked at were pretty run-down. Der was one place where once d'agent (‘cuz de landlord couldn be bothered to show us de place hisself, of course) had finished givin us de tour an accompanyin spiel we happened upon de tenants o’d'apartment below ours. Dey were comin down de stairs de same time as us. Dey musta recognized d’agent-guy or somethin ‘cause when dey saw us comin dey stopped on de landin an waited for us. Den dey started bawlin out d’agent cuz dey couldn believe de landlord was showin de place when it was practically fallin apart. Chunks o’der ceilin were fallin down into der bathtub. But dese were d’only kindsa places dat I could afford. I had to be saving up for med school, yo. Prin stuck wid me cuz she felt like me and her would make good roommates, and’at was one thing dat she wanted to be able to count on. Eventually we found a place an got all our shit moved right into d’heart o’de Pain and Pinch neighbourhood cuz da’s pretty much what surrounds Dork U. In some ways i’s good cuz i’s like exposin a lotta bourgeois suburbanites (like Prin) to shit dat dey wouldn’t normally experience. On d’other hand... De very next week after we got ourselves moved in d’apartment above ours got all busted up, not only were dey robbed but all der windows were smashed an all de shit dat wasn stolen got fuct up an ruined somehow by de robbers. Later on me ‘n Prin actually discovered dat de robbers had gotten into our place somehow, dey jus hadn gotten around to takin anythin dat was o’much value. But das another story. I was worried dat our neighbours might be a bit suspicious of us because we had no idea dat de whole ting had happened. You know, like, why didn we hear all dat shit gettin busted upstairs an what-not. But we all were talkin about it an it turned out dat me ‘n Prin were out shakin our asses til late de nite dat it happened, so we weren’t around to hear a thing. Anyway, just a week after dat whole thing happened, Prin got mugged at knifepoint.
See, how it went down was Prin was carryin a video camera dat she got from de media library at school. De media centre der does everythin dey can to keep dis sorta ting from happenin. Dey put stickers on d’outside o’de cases for d’equipment dat say, “Biohazard”, “Toxic Chemicals”, etc., but I guess maybe some crooks done figured mosta dat shit out by now. So, here’s Prin carryin a video camera in a case dat advertises rotten chemicals, and all of a sudden she hears some guy walkin behind her and his pace is increasin. She thinks dat he’s jus goin to pass her by, but instead he grabs her roun de neck an holds a knife to her face. He says real close up in her ear dat if she don hand over de case he’s gonna fuckin slit her throat. She drops de case. He jus kinda laughs, still in her ear. He says, “Now lets see what else you can give me.” At which point a car comes ‘roun de corner wid headlights bright to illuminate de scene. De fuckin shitass coward thief grabs de case an takes off. De car wasn goin so fast, an it stops an’ a man jumps out to see what de hell is goin on. Prin is standin frozen in de spot where she was accosted. She can’t speak, she can’t get any sound to come out at all. Dis man is tryin to communicate wid her. He’s tryin to piece together what happened, but she’s all in shock. Der’s a spot on her neck where a little bit o’blood is comin out now, a spot where de coward fuckhead thief was holdin his stupid knife.
Prin drops to the ground. This freaks the man out, and he tries to pick her up, but as soon as he touches her she screams an just runs into dese trees dat are nearby. She keeps runnin an’ runnin til she finds a spot under a bush where she hides an sits an tries to compose herself for bout an hour. Den eventually she gets up again an runs de rest o’de way home. She stays up de rest o’de nite sittin on de couch cross-legged watchin some jesus infomercials on de christian channel. Dis is where I find her de next mornin, an man, she’s a fuckin mess. I’m tryin to tell her dat she needs to inform de cops an whatnot an she’s all like, what fuckin good is dat gonna do. She wants to kill dat fuckin creep. She wans to get a vigilante crew together an take down his ass herself.
“Yeah, ok. We can do dat but, maybe first to make it look all official we should at least tell de media centre what happened an dey’ll help us fill out a police report an’ stuff.”
“Ok, but you don’t understand. If we do that they’ll know that I’m out to catch his ass an then they’ll be on to me an’ then they’ll try to stop me or somethin.”
“Hmmm... But maybe dey could help somehow.”
“No way. I’s gotta be me an I’m gonna get Jess and Lisa Tai... YOU know how tough Lisa Tai is. And Olivia, an Christine.”
So mosta d'houses we looked at were pretty run-down. Der was one place where once d'agent (‘cuz de landlord couldn be bothered to show us de place hisself, of course) had finished givin us de tour an accompanyin spiel we happened upon de tenants o’d'apartment below ours. Dey were comin down de stairs de same time as us. Dey musta recognized d’agent-guy or somethin ‘cause when dey saw us comin dey stopped on de landin an waited for us. Den dey started bawlin out d’agent cuz dey couldn believe de landlord was showin de place when it was practically fallin apart. Chunks o’der ceilin were fallin down into der bathtub. But dese were d’only kindsa places dat I could afford. I had to be saving up for med school, yo. Prin stuck wid me cuz she felt like me and her would make good roommates, and’at was one thing dat she wanted to be able to count on. Eventually we found a place an got all our shit moved right into d’heart o’de Pain and Pinch neighbourhood cuz da’s pretty much what surrounds Dork U. In some ways i’s good cuz i’s like exposin a lotta bourgeois suburbanites (like Prin) to shit dat dey wouldn’t normally experience. On d’other hand... De very next week after we got ourselves moved in d’apartment above ours got all busted up, not only were dey robbed but all der windows were smashed an all de shit dat wasn stolen got fuct up an ruined somehow by de robbers. Later on me ‘n Prin actually discovered dat de robbers had gotten into our place somehow, dey jus hadn gotten around to takin anythin dat was o’much value. But das another story. I was worried dat our neighbours might be a bit suspicious of us because we had no idea dat de whole ting had happened. You know, like, why didn we hear all dat shit gettin busted upstairs an what-not. But we all were talkin about it an it turned out dat me ‘n Prin were out shakin our asses til late de nite dat it happened, so we weren’t around to hear a thing. Anyway, just a week after dat whole thing happened, Prin got mugged at knifepoint.
See, how it went down was Prin was carryin a video camera dat she got from de media library at school. De media centre der does everythin dey can to keep dis sorta ting from happenin. Dey put stickers on d’outside o’de cases for d’equipment dat say, “Biohazard”, “Toxic Chemicals”, etc., but I guess maybe some crooks done figured mosta dat shit out by now. So, here’s Prin carryin a video camera in a case dat advertises rotten chemicals, and all of a sudden she hears some guy walkin behind her and his pace is increasin. She thinks dat he’s jus goin to pass her by, but instead he grabs her roun de neck an holds a knife to her face. He says real close up in her ear dat if she don hand over de case he’s gonna fuckin slit her throat. She drops de case. He jus kinda laughs, still in her ear. He says, “Now lets see what else you can give me.” At which point a car comes ‘roun de corner wid headlights bright to illuminate de scene. De fuckin shitass coward thief grabs de case an takes off. De car wasn goin so fast, an it stops an’ a man jumps out to see what de hell is goin on. Prin is standin frozen in de spot where she was accosted. She can’t speak, she can’t get any sound to come out at all. Dis man is tryin to communicate wid her. He’s tryin to piece together what happened, but she’s all in shock. Der’s a spot on her neck where a little bit o’blood is comin out now, a spot where de coward fuckhead thief was holdin his stupid knife.
Prin drops to the ground. This freaks the man out, and he tries to pick her up, but as soon as he touches her she screams an just runs into dese trees dat are nearby. She keeps runnin an’ runnin til she finds a spot under a bush where she hides an sits an tries to compose herself for bout an hour. Den eventually she gets up again an runs de rest o’de way home. She stays up de rest o’de nite sittin on de couch cross-legged watchin some jesus infomercials on de christian channel. Dis is where I find her de next mornin, an man, she’s a fuckin mess. I’m tryin to tell her dat she needs to inform de cops an whatnot an she’s all like, what fuckin good is dat gonna do. She wants to kill dat fuckin creep. She wans to get a vigilante crew together an take down his ass herself.
“Yeah, ok. We can do dat but, maybe first to make it look all official we should at least tell de media centre what happened an dey’ll help us fill out a police report an’ stuff.”
“Ok, but you don’t understand. If we do that they’ll know that I’m out to catch his ass an then they’ll be on to me an’ then they’ll try to stop me or somethin.”
“Hmmm... But maybe dey could help somehow.”
“No way. I’s gotta be me an I’m gonna get Jess and Lisa Tai... YOU know how tough Lisa Tai is. And Olivia, an Christine.”
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
“Oh my gawed.”
We stop and stare at one another.
“We could get Christine and all of her freakin sisters together, y’know how incredible that would be. They’re practically like a gang in and of themselves.”
She definitely had a point there. I was beginning to understand her position, though I had noticed dat she had yet to mention de names of any men. But I didn’t wanna press it at dis point cuz I didn’t know how she was gonna react to me questioning her on somethin like dat.
“You an I both know that the legal system don’t do shit anymore. It’s my duty as a good, tax-payin citizen o’this city to take matters into my own hands. We gotta make sure that this don’t happen again. Hey, ya wanna join us?”
She’s got my arm in her grip an the grip is gettin tighter as she speaks. She’s lookin me straight in d’eye an what I see in her face scares me to death. I’s like der’s a demon comin outta her. Her face has been taken over by somethin completely beyond her.
“Now, to understand what had me so frightened you gotta know a bit about Prin...”
Jo is looking at me kinda strangely. Had’is look for mosta my narrative.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re really taking this memory shit to heart, aren’t you?”
“Well, i’s my job to...”
“Yeah, but X, I think you’re taking some of this a little too personally. YOU know that these aren’t YOUR memories, right?”
“What? Yeah, of course. Of course I know dat. What’dya think I am... What?”
...
“Well, I should be goin anyway. Maro’s calling me. I done stayed here too long anyway. Talkin yer ear off an shit.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Yeah, and I appreciate it, Jo. I really do. I’ll see ya later.”
Granted I didn know Prin too well at dat point, but still de little I did know was enough to tell me dat she might have gone over d’edge there. Why does Jo hafta be such a prick sometimes. Ha, oh dat was good. Funny. Gawd, not my memories. Fuck. Maro, pull up dat fuckin email. You know d’one. I’ve looked at it like 1000 times. Yeah, da’s de shit.
August 16
I have included the list of things that I can remember that I have, I probably have more in terms of stuff for the kitchen but as you can see I do not have alot of furniture. Perhaps we can go shopping after we’ve moved in if we need more.
Anyway.
I am not a big television watcher, but I am addicted to movies. I saw Super Cop with Jackie Chan and Michelle Khan last night, it was awesome. I am really impartial in musical taste - the only music I can’t stand to listen to is Phish. In terms of my living habits - my bedrooms are notoriously trashed - mostly with clothing or books - I love books. You mentioned that you were a fan of the ‘stacking’ cleaning technique - I am also. I am much better at keeping the other areas of the house clean (as opposed to my bedroom). I love to cook - I love food basically - especially food from other cultures.
I was really excited when I saw that your favourite tv show is Northern Exposure - mine is too. I also can’t believe you love water - I do too. Every time I get near water it ends up all over me or me in it.
I can’t think of much else. I think (I hope) that I’ll be pretty easy to live with, but at any time if you have any problem with anything that I do please tell me - I’ll do the same.
The first person to move into the apartment needs to call the landlady and tell her what day we need the keys by (and ask her where to get the keys, also).
Anyway, I’ll see you soon. Sincerely, Prin (that’s my nickname, in case you were wondering)
We stop and stare at one another.
“We could get Christine and all of her freakin sisters together, y’know how incredible that would be. They’re practically like a gang in and of themselves.”
She definitely had a point there. I was beginning to understand her position, though I had noticed dat she had yet to mention de names of any men. But I didn’t wanna press it at dis point cuz I didn’t know how she was gonna react to me questioning her on somethin like dat.
“You an I both know that the legal system don’t do shit anymore. It’s my duty as a good, tax-payin citizen o’this city to take matters into my own hands. We gotta make sure that this don’t happen again. Hey, ya wanna join us?”
She’s got my arm in her grip an the grip is gettin tighter as she speaks. She’s lookin me straight in d’eye an what I see in her face scares me to death. I’s like der’s a demon comin outta her. Her face has been taken over by somethin completely beyond her.
“Now, to understand what had me so frightened you gotta know a bit about Prin...”
Jo is looking at me kinda strangely. Had’is look for mosta my narrative.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re really taking this memory shit to heart, aren’t you?”
“Well, i’s my job to...”
“Yeah, but X, I think you’re taking some of this a little too personally. YOU know that these aren’t YOUR memories, right?”
“What? Yeah, of course. Of course I know dat. What’dya think I am... What?”
...
“Well, I should be goin anyway. Maro’s calling me. I done stayed here too long anyway. Talkin yer ear off an shit.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Yeah, and I appreciate it, Jo. I really do. I’ll see ya later.”
Granted I didn know Prin too well at dat point, but still de little I did know was enough to tell me dat she might have gone over d’edge there. Why does Jo hafta be such a prick sometimes. Ha, oh dat was good. Funny. Gawd, not my memories. Fuck. Maro, pull up dat fuckin email. You know d’one. I’ve looked at it like 1000 times. Yeah, da’s de shit.
August 16
I have included the list of things that I can remember that I have, I probably have more in terms of stuff for the kitchen but as you can see I do not have alot of furniture. Perhaps we can go shopping after we’ve moved in if we need more.
Anyway.
I am not a big television watcher, but I am addicted to movies. I saw Super Cop with Jackie Chan and Michelle Khan last night, it was awesome. I am really impartial in musical taste - the only music I can’t stand to listen to is Phish. In terms of my living habits - my bedrooms are notoriously trashed - mostly with clothing or books - I love books. You mentioned that you were a fan of the ‘stacking’ cleaning technique - I am also. I am much better at keeping the other areas of the house clean (as opposed to my bedroom). I love to cook - I love food basically - especially food from other cultures.
I was really excited when I saw that your favourite tv show is Northern Exposure - mine is too. I also can’t believe you love water - I do too. Every time I get near water it ends up all over me or me in it.
I can’t think of much else. I think (I hope) that I’ll be pretty easy to live with, but at any time if you have any problem with anything that I do please tell me - I’ll do the same.
The first person to move into the apartment needs to call the landlady and tell her what day we need the keys by (and ask her where to get the keys, also).
Anyway, I’ll see you soon. Sincerely, Prin (that’s my nickname, in case you were wondering)
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Maro, let me get yer opinion on something.
Ok, dis vigilante madness stuff was not yer normal Prin behaviour. She’s from dis suburb way d’hell north o’de city, an accordin to her she’s always been a bit of a weirdo. One o’de first courses she took here was English lit. or some shit. So, she had to write dis essay about how she ended up at Dork U. She wrote dis really cool piece. She gave me a copy of it to read over for her an everythin. I think I even have a copy somewhere. Yeah, yeah, da’s it. In my opinion, i’s kinda shitty writing, but who am I, Dostoevsky?
Justifiably an ARTIST
I come from a small town. People in small towns tend to view life rather simply. Judgments are made without hesitation and without much thought of the consequences that ensue. Judging people according to their surface appearance keeps life simple. Things that can be placed in a defined category are easily sized-up and filed away in some corner of the mind.
When it comes to choosing a profession in a small town there is one rule and one rule only: You are what you do. Heaven forbid anyone have the audacity to change his or her profession midway through life, thereby forcing the alteration
of a community’s perceptions regarding that person. Small town citizens will be damned if they'll give up their convenient definitions of what a person is or isn't. Thus when it came time for me to choose a profession I discovered that according to my outward appearance and mannerisms I had very little choice indeed.
From an early age on it was apparent that I was to become something peculiar. One sign of this peculiarity was unmistakable: more often than not I would be off "in my own little world". Being a dreamer and having little desire to verbally communicate the dreams I indulged in led to ridicule from my peers. Once cast aside from the games of the playground, my only solace was the security I found in independence. This independent attitude led to further isolation from my small town community. I became suspicious of anyone accepted by the society with which I had become familiar. Furthermore, having virtually no friends made me withdrawn and moody.
A virtual recluse at age 11, I would sometimes catch snippets of conversations concerning "what was to become of" me. One that all the overheard descriptions of me included was "artist's temperament". This phrase germinated and took root when I began to exhibit interest in various areas of the fine arts. It was at this point that I suddenly realized my options for the future had without my knowledge or consent, been limited.
My aptitudes in math and science were of little significance to teachers who had me pegged as one of those "creative types". When I began highschool and shared with our guidance counselor my ambition to enter into the field of medicine he, while making little effort to hide his shock and dismay, suggested that I aim for something more in line with my obvious proclivities. He hinted that trespassers in fields like that of medicine were shot on sight. The "types" of fields to which he was referring were those of a no-nonsense, serious nature (i.e., science, business, etc.). Social deviants were not encouraged to immerse themselves in studies that would land them in positions of power within the community (i.e., Who would have any respect for a doctor dressed like some sort of circus performer?). Instead, my guidance counselor steered me towards a career in an area that was a little closer to what he assumed were my tastes: the fine arts.
Of course I was angry. Flagrant discrimination on the basis of appearance and social behavior seemed like a burning injustice to my adolescent mind. From that point on I walked around with a chip on my shoulder and preoccupied myself with thoughts of proving everyone wrong. This earned me the reputation of a scatter-brained, absent-minded girl with a bad temper. Lacking the wherewithal to verbally express my anger, I took to using visual media to express myself. I painted, drew and sculpted my opinions of those around me, thereby fulfilling the artist’s stereotype completely. I did not conform. I did not fit in. I was angry with my peers and society at large. I did not communicate in a normal fashion. I looked like an artist, and now I had truly come to behave like one.
I will admit to you that I am the embodiment of my small town's concept of an artist. On the surface I am prone to moodiness and impulsive behavior. I express myself using unconventional means. Furthermore I may seem flighty, immature and unreliable. This is the persona that has been shaped for me and I can offer no excuses for it other than the circumstances in which I was brought up. It may seem as though I ended up in the fine arts by default, that art is the only salvation left for a social deviant such as myself.
The persona created for me by my environment may fit me like a glove but, in the end it is my choice to don such a glove. I choose whether or not to embrace this destiny. Should I choose to accept this destiny, I will be in a position to portray my impressions of all other professions. It is the artist more than any other professional, who has the opportunity to draw upon all the resources that human civilization has to offer. When the language, the currency, and the members of any given culture have died, their art will still live on. So, be careful about what you say to me. It may just be kept for posterity’s sake.
Ok, dis vigilante madness stuff was not yer normal Prin behaviour. She’s from dis suburb way d’hell north o’de city, an accordin to her she’s always been a bit of a weirdo. One o’de first courses she took here was English lit. or some shit. So, she had to write dis essay about how she ended up at Dork U. She wrote dis really cool piece. She gave me a copy of it to read over for her an everythin. I think I even have a copy somewhere. Yeah, yeah, da’s it. In my opinion, i’s kinda shitty writing, but who am I, Dostoevsky?
Justifiably an ARTIST
I come from a small town. People in small towns tend to view life rather simply. Judgments are made without hesitation and without much thought of the consequences that ensue. Judging people according to their surface appearance keeps life simple. Things that can be placed in a defined category are easily sized-up and filed away in some corner of the mind.
When it comes to choosing a profession in a small town there is one rule and one rule only: You are what you do. Heaven forbid anyone have the audacity to change his or her profession midway through life, thereby forcing the alteration
of a community’s perceptions regarding that person. Small town citizens will be damned if they'll give up their convenient definitions of what a person is or isn't. Thus when it came time for me to choose a profession I discovered that according to my outward appearance and mannerisms I had very little choice indeed.
From an early age on it was apparent that I was to become something peculiar. One sign of this peculiarity was unmistakable: more often than not I would be off "in my own little world". Being a dreamer and having little desire to verbally communicate the dreams I indulged in led to ridicule from my peers. Once cast aside from the games of the playground, my only solace was the security I found in independence. This independent attitude led to further isolation from my small town community. I became suspicious of anyone accepted by the society with which I had become familiar. Furthermore, having virtually no friends made me withdrawn and moody.
A virtual recluse at age 11, I would sometimes catch snippets of conversations concerning "what was to become of" me. One that all the overheard descriptions of me included was "artist's temperament". This phrase germinated and took root when I began to exhibit interest in various areas of the fine arts. It was at this point that I suddenly realized my options for the future had without my knowledge or consent, been limited.
My aptitudes in math and science were of little significance to teachers who had me pegged as one of those "creative types". When I began highschool and shared with our guidance counselor my ambition to enter into the field of medicine he, while making little effort to hide his shock and dismay, suggested that I aim for something more in line with my obvious proclivities. He hinted that trespassers in fields like that of medicine were shot on sight. The "types" of fields to which he was referring were those of a no-nonsense, serious nature (i.e., science, business, etc.). Social deviants were not encouraged to immerse themselves in studies that would land them in positions of power within the community (i.e., Who would have any respect for a doctor dressed like some sort of circus performer?). Instead, my guidance counselor steered me towards a career in an area that was a little closer to what he assumed were my tastes: the fine arts.
Of course I was angry. Flagrant discrimination on the basis of appearance and social behavior seemed like a burning injustice to my adolescent mind. From that point on I walked around with a chip on my shoulder and preoccupied myself with thoughts of proving everyone wrong. This earned me the reputation of a scatter-brained, absent-minded girl with a bad temper. Lacking the wherewithal to verbally express my anger, I took to using visual media to express myself. I painted, drew and sculpted my opinions of those around me, thereby fulfilling the artist’s stereotype completely. I did not conform. I did not fit in. I was angry with my peers and society at large. I did not communicate in a normal fashion. I looked like an artist, and now I had truly come to behave like one.
I will admit to you that I am the embodiment of my small town's concept of an artist. On the surface I am prone to moodiness and impulsive behavior. I express myself using unconventional means. Furthermore I may seem flighty, immature and unreliable. This is the persona that has been shaped for me and I can offer no excuses for it other than the circumstances in which I was brought up. It may seem as though I ended up in the fine arts by default, that art is the only salvation left for a social deviant such as myself.
The persona created for me by my environment may fit me like a glove but, in the end it is my choice to don such a glove. I choose whether or not to embrace this destiny. Should I choose to accept this destiny, I will be in a position to portray my impressions of all other professions. It is the artist more than any other professional, who has the opportunity to draw upon all the resources that human civilization has to offer. When the language, the currency, and the members of any given culture have died, their art will still live on. So, be careful about what you say to me. It may just be kept for posterity’s sake.
Monday, February 18, 2008
A’right, so parts o’dat essay still make me cringe. To tell you de truth, I hate writin, myself. Sometimes I don'trust de written word at all. Words jus get you into trouble. If I had a choice I wouldn't use dem at all. Dey are inadequate to de bone. Dis probly sound like some kinda o’foppery considerin all de written words an notes dat I keep takin and keepin and takin, etc. all de goddam time. But anyway, de point is... What was my fuckin point, anyway?
...
Well, her teacher really liked’essay. It was the kinda thing where he read it to de whole class, yadda yadda, which again, centers her out. And in d’end, what he told her was dat her essay was d’only one outta de class dat indicated she had ended up in her program because of prejudice. Boy, did that ever make her think.
...
I think da’s part o’da reason she was so big on being my roommate: she wanted to go into medicine. She jus felt like she wasn smart enough to make it.
...
Shit. Dat was my point. No matter how much she got made fun of, no matter how much she was centered out an laughed at, she never (an dey did some mean shit to her man, let me tell you) fuckin fought back. Never once. When I first met her, she was de nicest damn person I had ever known. And’en after d’attack, she jus fuckin snapped. Prin was on de warpath, an from dat moment on she didn stop. To see her like dat was quite eerie. I’s like she totally flipped a switch. And it really makes me wonder. Maybe we all start out innocent and wonderful, it’s just a matter o’time before our experience corrupts us. Prin led a pretty sheltered life. Maybe she was able to hold out longer dan most.
...
...
Well, her teacher really liked’essay. It was the kinda thing where he read it to de whole class, yadda yadda, which again, centers her out. And in d’end, what he told her was dat her essay was d’only one outta de class dat indicated she had ended up in her program because of prejudice. Boy, did that ever make her think.
...
I think da’s part o’da reason she was so big on being my roommate: she wanted to go into medicine. She jus felt like she wasn smart enough to make it.
...
Shit. Dat was my point. No matter how much she got made fun of, no matter how much she was centered out an laughed at, she never (an dey did some mean shit to her man, let me tell you) fuckin fought back. Never once. When I first met her, she was de nicest damn person I had ever known. And’en after d’attack, she jus fuckin snapped. Prin was on de warpath, an from dat moment on she didn stop. To see her like dat was quite eerie. I’s like she totally flipped a switch. And it really makes me wonder. Maybe we all start out innocent and wonderful, it’s just a matter o’time before our experience corrupts us. Prin led a pretty sheltered life. Maybe she was able to hold out longer dan most.
...
Monday, February 11, 2008
When the room fills up what will THAT be like?
Do people pay attention to me? It goes without saying that I will pay attention to them. I wonder if they ever feel watched by me. Do they feel listened-to when I am observing them? I suppose that affects the observations. But then again, they’d be watched no matter what. I’m sure they don really think too much bout any o’dis anyway. Dis a very good place to have a conversation wid yerself.
Jo never listened to me. He didn’t like poetry and he didn’ like Henry Sugar. Or perhaps he jus didn’t like bein read to.
“Look Ma! I’m an existentialist!”
A fake laugh, such a fake, fake laugh.
Dey’re interrupting. Want me to move my chair, my body (my existence?). Well, it’s not going to happen. fractals connected. fibraccio. libarace. Maro is part of de closed circuit. Maro is a telekinetic photon-machine. D'ultimate gadget. Can take still photos, can shoot moving targets. Maro can send notes to other similar gadgets across time and space. what universe did i attend? it’s called FU. I should be talking to her ARM AND NAVaL. saying, Intelligence, you need not worry bout fallowing out, there. to be completed at a later date.
Kretschmar. You can’t trust her, ever, not even for one cool minute. You gotta remember that. You gotta keep dat fear in your heart. De terrible thing is dat she wants you to have dat fear there. It should be about respect. That’s what you’d think it would be about, but it’s not. It’s all about fear and de kind of control dat she has over you. She needs to have dat control, no matter what situation she’s in.
She has her minions. And you have to watch out for dem at all times, eh Maro?
I once looked up to her. I almost admired her. Almost. I thought she had something like compassion. But I was dead wrong. I’s not compassion afterall. I’s jus’elf preservation, a sickening, destructive kind of self-preservation. She’s only nice to you as an after-thought, or perhaps she actually needs something from you, though she would never want you to know it. She will demand things from you. That’s all. She will never admit to actually needing you.
Diagnosis? No.
Don't know why she's getting better.
WHOA. I was totally dozing off there.
Da’s it. I’m jus gonna sit here beside all these ridiculous people an work on my own fuckin report or somethin.
How does one become an autonomous agent? Is it possible for an agent to contribute to his own process of autonomy?
It would seem that it may be possible for an agent to dissociate himself from the sort of deliberation that he uses to decide between first-order desires. In this way, one could say that an agent may not identify with the sort of reasons-responsive mechanisms that she uses for deliberation, as well as the potential solutions that they may provide him with. If an agent does not himself recognize or identify with the psychological capacities that should render him autonomous ought we to hold him responsible for his actions?
I dunno.
Do people pay attention to me? It goes without saying that I will pay attention to them. I wonder if they ever feel watched by me. Do they feel listened-to when I am observing them? I suppose that affects the observations. But then again, they’d be watched no matter what. I’m sure they don really think too much bout any o’dis anyway. Dis a very good place to have a conversation wid yerself.
Jo never listened to me. He didn’t like poetry and he didn’ like Henry Sugar. Or perhaps he jus didn’t like bein read to.
“Look Ma! I’m an existentialist!”
A fake laugh, such a fake, fake laugh.
Dey’re interrupting. Want me to move my chair, my body (my existence?). Well, it’s not going to happen. fractals connected. fibraccio. libarace. Maro is part of de closed circuit. Maro is a telekinetic photon-machine. D'ultimate gadget. Can take still photos, can shoot moving targets. Maro can send notes to other similar gadgets across time and space. what universe did i attend? it’s called FU. I should be talking to her ARM AND NAVaL. saying, Intelligence, you need not worry bout fallowing out, there. to be completed at a later date.
Kretschmar. You can’t trust her, ever, not even for one cool minute. You gotta remember that. You gotta keep dat fear in your heart. De terrible thing is dat she wants you to have dat fear there. It should be about respect. That’s what you’d think it would be about, but it’s not. It’s all about fear and de kind of control dat she has over you. She needs to have dat control, no matter what situation she’s in.
She has her minions. And you have to watch out for dem at all times, eh Maro?
I once looked up to her. I almost admired her. Almost. I thought she had something like compassion. But I was dead wrong. I’s not compassion afterall. I’s jus’elf preservation, a sickening, destructive kind of self-preservation. She’s only nice to you as an after-thought, or perhaps she actually needs something from you, though she would never want you to know it. She will demand things from you. That’s all. She will never admit to actually needing you.
Diagnosis? No.
Don't know why she's getting better.
WHOA. I was totally dozing off there.
Da’s it. I’m jus gonna sit here beside all these ridiculous people an work on my own fuckin report or somethin.
How does one become an autonomous agent? Is it possible for an agent to contribute to his own process of autonomy?
It would seem that it may be possible for an agent to dissociate himself from the sort of deliberation that he uses to decide between first-order desires. In this way, one could say that an agent may not identify with the sort of reasons-responsive mechanisms that she uses for deliberation, as well as the potential solutions that they may provide him with. If an agent does not himself recognize or identify with the psychological capacities that should render him autonomous ought we to hold him responsible for his actions?
I dunno.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
“Exactly, but I like this... You couldn’t say that I’m shy... [laughing].”
“I went to a newsgroup last year... She’s a psychic... Judy, in my group, she’s so unhappy... But... You just take these trips...”
“Hmmm...”
“New York... The divorce hadn’t gone through, yet... And then they broke up... One day...”
“So, it could be the last day... I wrote everything... I... I... I... Friends.”
“And then you say it’s not my fault. [laughing]”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I cry so loud. Why don’t you help me.”
“So we’re chatting away...”
“I told him...”
“No, the guy...”
“Always remember... Yeah, confirming... TSX Group Inc. and Montreal Exchange Inc... Yesterday. They have renewed merger talks... a made-in-Canada deal.”
“Who’s going to underwrite that sort of bill?”
“Certainly not Heywood Securities, Vancouver.”
“Most definitely. I heard they’re going under.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, they took a big hit with the meltdown. Seriously, at least five of their companies are gone, like they disappeared overnight.”
“No shit! I guess they’re out of the game.”
“No shit.”
“Then she wrote... from there... She should travel... then she will understand.”
“You want to take on...”
“So it’s there...”
“Actually...”
“She says, ‘I brought it up and the next thing I know...’”
“Did you ever get away?”
“And Johann will be here in August.”
“He didn’t sound right...”
“So, um...”
“And I know that I will be with her...”
I’s Alison Tsoukalas and her sister-in-law (whose name I can’t quite locate). Nice little stock-tip dey giving me der. I oughtta try dat one out. Alison should know, seeing as how she used to work for Heywood Securities’ head-office in Vancouver.
“I went to a newsgroup last year... She’s a psychic... Judy, in my group, she’s so unhappy... But... You just take these trips...”
“Hmmm...”
“New York... The divorce hadn’t gone through, yet... And then they broke up... One day...”
“So, it could be the last day... I wrote everything... I... I... I... Friends.”
“And then you say it’s not my fault. [laughing]”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I cry so loud. Why don’t you help me.”
“So we’re chatting away...”
“I told him...”
“No, the guy...”
“Always remember... Yeah, confirming... TSX Group Inc. and Montreal Exchange Inc... Yesterday. They have renewed merger talks... a made-in-Canada deal.”
“Who’s going to underwrite that sort of bill?”
“Certainly not Heywood Securities, Vancouver.”
“Most definitely. I heard they’re going under.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, they took a big hit with the meltdown. Seriously, at least five of their companies are gone, like they disappeared overnight.”
“No shit! I guess they’re out of the game.”
“No shit.”
“Then she wrote... from there... She should travel... then she will understand.”
“You want to take on...”
“So it’s there...”
“Actually...”
“She says, ‘I brought it up and the next thing I know...’”
“Did you ever get away?”
“And Johann will be here in August.”
“He didn’t sound right...”
“So, um...”
“And I know that I will be with her...”
I’s Alison Tsoukalas and her sister-in-law (whose name I can’t quite locate). Nice little stock-tip dey giving me der. I oughtta try dat one out. Alison should know, seeing as how she used to work for Heywood Securities’ head-office in Vancouver.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
At the conservancy’s annual general meeting, dried-up old equestrians and amateur botanists talk of their battles with developers and planning commissions.
“Special guest speakers will include...”
I’ve known them for years and still don’t understand them.
“A comprehensive history of working people and their organizations in... A national teachers’ poll was conducted on behalf of... It reveals the views of educators on workplace issues such as workload and hours of work, abusive parents...”
What about abusive teachers? Anyone take a poll on dat?
“... class size, integration of special needs students...”
I got quite a few students wid special needs, da’s for sure.
“... the extent of participation in and spending on professional development activities. The survey indicates that 83% of... have a higher workload than four years ago. They also report growing class sizes and, at the same time, larger numbers of special needs students are being integrated into their classrooms...”
Now is dat increasin class-size due to the number of special needs students being integrated or what? How bout some more freakin percentages here.
“Although a significant number of teachers reported witnessing at least one incident that they would classify as physical assault or verbal abuse, there is an overwhelming view that our schools are safe places.”
I beg to differ wid’at one, hun. Another grizzled eco-veteran slips in and takes a seat. Then de next speaker o’d’hour, good old Hobson, rises to begin his’hit.
“The level of any conscious state in the brain rises and falls in response to the degree of electrochemical activation supplied by the reticular formation in the brainstem core. Whatever consciousness is, and however its components are mediated by the specialized structures of the upper brain, the LEVEL of consciousness is set by an internal electrochemical drive system that has been called the ‘nonspecific reticular activating system’ since its discovery by Moruzzi and Magoun in 1949.”
Hobson might take quantum mechanics a little too far, but at least he seems like he’s talkin sense today. 1949? Sure was a long time ago.
“The main idea is that for the brain to be conscious, its nerve cells must maintain a certain level of electrochemical activity... Consciousness is virtually obliterated during sleep, which leads to the surprising insight that consciousness operates within a very narrow range of activation. Put another way, consciousness is exquisitely sensitive to even slight changes in activation level... By altering the tension in our muscles and by focusing our internal awareness on one channel of data or another, we can navigate into the more peaceful harbors of the conscious world. When we do this, we bring our reticular formation partially under the control of our will, probably via the prefrontal cortex.”
CHALMERS gotta get his two cents worth in here...
“Computational hypothesis...”
He cites Wolfram’s New Kind of Science.
“State of cell at one time is a function of the state of a cell at a previous time...”
Well, as if we didn’t all know dat. Still, I can’t help thinkin o’Kim’s new version o’functionalism. Or at least, I guess it used to be new, probably back when I was a student or something.
“This hypothesis would not require massive revisions in other beliefs.”
David Chalmers has the stench of the desert all over him. I’s in his hair, on his shirt and socks. His mind is thoroughly ensconced in it. The sun and the sand in conjunction with too much dry air has entered his bloodstream. The madness o’Castenada is coursing through his veins. His eyes are seething with a sky that remains unfettered by rainclouds. There are sunsets roaming free in his beard. There’s rock dust spilling from his cuffs and nostrils... Windtunnels forming in his mouth and drilling into his skull. How much longer can he keep them at bay? They are gradually wearing down his abutements and crags. I used to want to be just like him.
“What unites all of these states is that there is something it is like to be in them. All of them are states of experience.”
The problem with experience is that we cannot seem to figure out how or why such feelings arise from physical processes.
“This is not to say that experience has no function. Perhaps it will turn out to play an important cognitive role. But for any role it might play, there will be more to the explanation of experience than a simple explanation of the function. Perhaps it will even turn out that in the course of explaining a function, we will be led to the key insight that allows an explanation of experience. If this happens, though, the discovery will be an extra explanatory reward. There is no cognitive function such that we can say in advance that explanation of that function will automatically explain experience.”
I’m gonna get up de courage to actually ask a question myself, now:
“What is a mental state?”
Hobson takes it upon hisself to answer: “It follows that, given sensation, awareness could emerge simply as the sensation of sensation. With the emergence of vocalization and language capability in higher primates and humans, this sensation of sensation could then be represented abstractly in verbal descriptions and drawings.”
I feel like I didn get much of an answer to my question there. Maybe I’ll try something else: “How do we know that it is verbally reportable?”
Hobson’s gonna try again: “What began as mere sensation becomes -in a series of seamless bootstrapping steps- first our sensation of sensations, then our awareness of sensation, and finally our awareness of awareness...”
What the F is dis guy going on about?!
“... The gradual building up of symbol upon symbol upon symbol as brain circuit is added to brain circuit is as palpable in the development of individuals as it is in the elaboration of species.”
I don’t’hink dat answers my questions at all. Sounds like a lot o’bullshit to me, bringing in Darwin like dat. Shame on you. Da’s blasphemy in my book. Besides, I think der’s no reason why understanding the brain basis for consciousness should eliminate or even limit further phenomenological investigations on the subject. I believe dey go hand-in-hand, like two peas in a pod. But no one really listens to me anyway.
“How can such a verbal report be verified?”
He probably ain gonna like me no more. Oh well, I’m fuckin used to it. How long is dis fuckin presentation gonna go on for anyway?
“Special guest speakers will include...”
I’ve known them for years and still don’t understand them.
“A comprehensive history of working people and their organizations in... A national teachers’ poll was conducted on behalf of... It reveals the views of educators on workplace issues such as workload and hours of work, abusive parents...”
What about abusive teachers? Anyone take a poll on dat?
“... class size, integration of special needs students...”
I got quite a few students wid special needs, da’s for sure.
“... the extent of participation in and spending on professional development activities. The survey indicates that 83% of... have a higher workload than four years ago. They also report growing class sizes and, at the same time, larger numbers of special needs students are being integrated into their classrooms...”
Now is dat increasin class-size due to the number of special needs students being integrated or what? How bout some more freakin percentages here.
“Although a significant number of teachers reported witnessing at least one incident that they would classify as physical assault or verbal abuse, there is an overwhelming view that our schools are safe places.”
I beg to differ wid’at one, hun. Another grizzled eco-veteran slips in and takes a seat. Then de next speaker o’d’hour, good old Hobson, rises to begin his’hit.
“The level of any conscious state in the brain rises and falls in response to the degree of electrochemical activation supplied by the reticular formation in the brainstem core. Whatever consciousness is, and however its components are mediated by the specialized structures of the upper brain, the LEVEL of consciousness is set by an internal electrochemical drive system that has been called the ‘nonspecific reticular activating system’ since its discovery by Moruzzi and Magoun in 1949.”
Hobson might take quantum mechanics a little too far, but at least he seems like he’s talkin sense today. 1949? Sure was a long time ago.
“The main idea is that for the brain to be conscious, its nerve cells must maintain a certain level of electrochemical activity... Consciousness is virtually obliterated during sleep, which leads to the surprising insight that consciousness operates within a very narrow range of activation. Put another way, consciousness is exquisitely sensitive to even slight changes in activation level... By altering the tension in our muscles and by focusing our internal awareness on one channel of data or another, we can navigate into the more peaceful harbors of the conscious world. When we do this, we bring our reticular formation partially under the control of our will, probably via the prefrontal cortex.”
CHALMERS gotta get his two cents worth in here...
“Computational hypothesis...”
He cites Wolfram’s New Kind of Science.
“State of cell at one time is a function of the state of a cell at a previous time...”
Well, as if we didn’t all know dat. Still, I can’t help thinkin o’Kim’s new version o’functionalism. Or at least, I guess it used to be new, probably back when I was a student or something.
“This hypothesis would not require massive revisions in other beliefs.”
David Chalmers has the stench of the desert all over him. I’s in his hair, on his shirt and socks. His mind is thoroughly ensconced in it. The sun and the sand in conjunction with too much dry air has entered his bloodstream. The madness o’Castenada is coursing through his veins. His eyes are seething with a sky that remains unfettered by rainclouds. There are sunsets roaming free in his beard. There’s rock dust spilling from his cuffs and nostrils... Windtunnels forming in his mouth and drilling into his skull. How much longer can he keep them at bay? They are gradually wearing down his abutements and crags. I used to want to be just like him.
“What unites all of these states is that there is something it is like to be in them. All of them are states of experience.”
The problem with experience is that we cannot seem to figure out how or why such feelings arise from physical processes.
“This is not to say that experience has no function. Perhaps it will turn out to play an important cognitive role. But for any role it might play, there will be more to the explanation of experience than a simple explanation of the function. Perhaps it will even turn out that in the course of explaining a function, we will be led to the key insight that allows an explanation of experience. If this happens, though, the discovery will be an extra explanatory reward. There is no cognitive function such that we can say in advance that explanation of that function will automatically explain experience.”
I’m gonna get up de courage to actually ask a question myself, now:
“What is a mental state?”
Hobson takes it upon hisself to answer: “It follows that, given sensation, awareness could emerge simply as the sensation of sensation. With the emergence of vocalization and language capability in higher primates and humans, this sensation of sensation could then be represented abstractly in verbal descriptions and drawings.”
I feel like I didn get much of an answer to my question there. Maybe I’ll try something else: “How do we know that it is verbally reportable?”
Hobson’s gonna try again: “What began as mere sensation becomes -in a series of seamless bootstrapping steps- first our sensation of sensations, then our awareness of sensation, and finally our awareness of awareness...”
What the F is dis guy going on about?!
“... The gradual building up of symbol upon symbol upon symbol as brain circuit is added to brain circuit is as palpable in the development of individuals as it is in the elaboration of species.”
I don’t’hink dat answers my questions at all. Sounds like a lot o’bullshit to me, bringing in Darwin like dat. Shame on you. Da’s blasphemy in my book. Besides, I think der’s no reason why understanding the brain basis for consciousness should eliminate or even limit further phenomenological investigations on the subject. I believe dey go hand-in-hand, like two peas in a pod. But no one really listens to me anyway.
“How can such a verbal report be verified?”
He probably ain gonna like me no more. Oh well, I’m fuckin used to it. How long is dis fuckin presentation gonna go on for anyway?
Monday, January 28, 2008
“If we want a truly deep understanding of consciousness, we must descend beyond microscopic levels of analysis to that of atoms and subatomic particles, and even beyond that.”
This definitely where Hobson’s account starts to fall apart. I hope he don’t start to cry today. I don’t even feel like listenin to de rest o’what dis guy has to say.
“How can we know that a mental state is internally accessible?”
I’m getting bored. Time to dissociate...Who is dis group of yuppy hipsters next to me? Texting each other bout ad space and news anchors on websites... I’m gonna interrupt Hobson here, I’m gettin sick of his bullshit: “How do we know when an action is deliberate?”
Everyone in de room jus’tops an fuckin stares at me. I guess dat’s enough outta me for today. But I still have so many other questions: Are these phenomena really as straightforward as Chalmers claims? If so, then it would seem as though the experience of consciousness should be equally straightforward. What is this feeling other than an awareness of mental states? If we have no explanation of how the ‘feeling’ that accompanies consciousness translates into some sort of physical process, then it would seem that we have no reason to believe that mental states can be translated into some sort of physical process. But da’s jus my opinion, I could be wrong, yo. Hey, what happened in de last board meeting? Maro?
This definitely where Hobson’s account starts to fall apart. I hope he don’t start to cry today. I don’t even feel like listenin to de rest o’what dis guy has to say.
“How can we know that a mental state is internally accessible?”
I’m getting bored. Time to dissociate...Who is dis group of yuppy hipsters next to me? Texting each other bout ad space and news anchors on websites... I’m gonna interrupt Hobson here, I’m gettin sick of his bullshit: “How do we know when an action is deliberate?”
Everyone in de room jus’tops an fuckin stares at me. I guess dat’s enough outta me for today. But I still have so many other questions: Are these phenomena really as straightforward as Chalmers claims? If so, then it would seem as though the experience of consciousness should be equally straightforward. What is this feeling other than an awareness of mental states? If we have no explanation of how the ‘feeling’ that accompanies consciousness translates into some sort of physical process, then it would seem that we have no reason to believe that mental states can be translated into some sort of physical process. But da’s jus my opinion, I could be wrong, yo. Hey, what happened in de last board meeting? Maro?
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Dear Members, Friends and Colleagues,
For many years, Townsend’s Board of Directors has constructed its annual budget, and authorized both ongoing and new program expenditures, on the basis of its best guesses as to what costs and incomes would be. Sometimes it has actually budgeted a substantial deficit ($92 000 a year) when it has strongly suspected income for the year would actually significantly exceed what had been dependably established at the time of budgeting.
As well, Townsend has also been constrained in its core funding over the course of the last decade. It has risen by a total of 17% from 1995/96 to 2005/06. During the same period, inflation rose by just under 20%, and Townsend’s membership grew by 150%.
This year, we’ve decided to address long-term cost pressures among all its funded agencies with an increase of 5% to the core funding for each of them, this despite receiving no additional money from the provincial Government for this purpose. For Townsend, this meant an increase of $53 000 in its ongoing core funding (bringing the total increase since 1995/96 to the 17% noted).
The Townsend Board of Directors is grateful for the increase to its core funding. However, this additional
$53 000 is not enough to sustain some of the expanded programming that has been put in place; and it is nowhere near enough to fund the further expansions hoped for. So the Board has made a series of very painful budget decisions:
-closure of Townsend’s highly regarded Positive Prevention department
-elimination of three full-time staff positions
-numerous reductions in programming across the range of Townsend’s services
Townsend’s Board of Directors will work vigorously to secure new funding to restore our lost programs and staff.
Man, dat sucks. Who had to present dat shit? Oh yeah, dat was me. Don’t shoot de messenger, folks, please. What were MY notes on all o’dat shit, Maro?
For many years, Townsend’s Board of Directors has constructed its annual budget, and authorized both ongoing and new program expenditures, on the basis of its best guesses as to what costs and incomes would be. Sometimes it has actually budgeted a substantial deficit ($92 000 a year) when it has strongly suspected income for the year would actually significantly exceed what had been dependably established at the time of budgeting.
As well, Townsend has also been constrained in its core funding over the course of the last decade. It has risen by a total of 17% from 1995/96 to 2005/06. During the same period, inflation rose by just under 20%, and Townsend’s membership grew by 150%.
This year, we’ve decided to address long-term cost pressures among all its funded agencies with an increase of 5% to the core funding for each of them, this despite receiving no additional money from the provincial Government for this purpose. For Townsend, this meant an increase of $53 000 in its ongoing core funding (bringing the total increase since 1995/96 to the 17% noted).
The Townsend Board of Directors is grateful for the increase to its core funding. However, this additional
$53 000 is not enough to sustain some of the expanded programming that has been put in place; and it is nowhere near enough to fund the further expansions hoped for. So the Board has made a series of very painful budget decisions:
-closure of Townsend’s highly regarded Positive Prevention department
-elimination of three full-time staff positions
-numerous reductions in programming across the range of Townsend’s services
Townsend’s Board of Directors will work vigorously to secure new funding to restore our lost programs and staff.
Man, dat sucks. Who had to present dat shit? Oh yeah, dat was me. Don’t shoot de messenger, folks, please. What were MY notes on all o’dat shit, Maro?
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