...actual distinct voices speaking in my mind? Or is it just the weblog of James Lindenschmidt? Here you can see me wrestle with this and other questions, while spewing forth my writings, opinions, and hallucinations.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

 

Wow, it's been 10 days since I posted. I've been keeping busy, actually. Reading (LOTR), taking care of my daughter, and writing songs. Also, I played D&D for the first time in years a few weeks back. I must confess I had a great time. So I've been thinking some about that, as well.

I've also been thinking more about my writing. Rather than short essay-type pieces, I'm now conceiving a longer piece of fiction. Maybe I'll post passages of it someday.

I've been listening to the new Eminem album. I borrowed it from a friend, because I am currently boycotting the RIAA. I refuse to participate in their systematic oppression of everyone except the record companies and the economically elite artists. I will still buy CDs directly from band websites, even if they are signed to RIAA labels.

Anyway, I think Eminem gets a lot of crap for nothing. The first track on the new album (actually its track 2) called White America is very, very good.

^ posted at 2:23 PM

 

the inevitable linux rant

Those of you who know me probably know that I'm a Linux user, and that I'll happily extoll the virtues of Linux until you are blue in the face. I'm sure it must be annoying to hear about it over and over. But the fact remains that Linux is Free, in both the free beer/free speech sense, and it is incredible, stable software that works very well. Given the paradigm in which Microsoft operates, particularly with their new draconian licensing schemes that seek to extract as much money as possible from customers without regard to what they actually need, it can only be prudent to look for alternatives.

Additionally, Free software is now mature desktop software. OpenOffice 1.0 (NYTimes review here) and Mozilla 1.0 (more info here) have been released, both of which are available on Windows, Linux, and other platforms. Additionally, the next generation of Linux desktop software, KDE 3.0 is out with GNOME 2.0 coming Real Soon Now. I urge you to check them out. You can even contact me if you have specific questions about them. I'm an experienced user (if not an uber-hacker); I'll help where I can, and point you to a good place to get help if I can't.

But the point of this post is that I just read a very fine piece of writing, by novelist Neal Stephenson called In The Beginning Was The Command Line (available in full here). It is about operating systems, Apple, Windows, Linux, and BeOS. It is also about culture, and why we choose the computer interfaces we do. In other words, there is a reason Bill Gates has more money than God. This text is by far the most interesting, well-written exploration of these themes.

In addition, it is the best article I've ever seen on getting into the Unix/Linux paradigm, especially if you are more familiar with Windows or Macs. The specific info is a bit out of date now (Linux is much easier to use now than it was in 1999 when he wrote this), but the general principles are brilliant.

^ posted at 11:55 AM

 

homeschooling:
experience, wonder, and the burned hand

"The burned hand teaches best. After that, advice about fire goes to the heart."
--Gandalf, in Tolkien's The Two Towers

I've been spending the past six weeks or so, since graduating from college, being the primary caretaker of my daughter. My wife and I decided long ago that we wanted to homeschool her, and as of the beginning of May we have been doing so.

There are many educational theories that appeal to me, but the above quote is perhaps the most succinct (albeit a bit harsh) summary of my own feelings about education. At this stage in my daughter's life (her 5th birthday is this week), I see my primary function as a homeschooling parent is simply to stay out of the way. I'm absolutely convinced that children are blessed with a natural and profound ability to experience wonder about the universe around them. I'm equally convinced that institutionalized education is a very efficient way to kill that profound sense of wonder. So at this stage, my main responsibility to my daughter is to do everything I can to cultivate wonder.

One philosophy built around this central tenet (don't kill wonder) is unschooling. Though I was at first skeptical in a somewhat reactionary way, I am growing to appreciate and trust its methods. Basically, the idea of unschooling is to throw out all notions of curriculum, letting the child's interests take them where they will. As a parent, it is my job to guide her learning process, not to command it. The hardest part is trusting that the child will be interested in, say, reading. So far, it hasn't been a problem for my daughter. Of course, as a guide, I have the opportunity to plant seeds and point out some interesting things; I try to enthrall my daughter with hints about just how interesting the world is.

Another huge influence on my educational philosophy is the American philosopher, John Dewey. In his work, "My Pedagogic Creed," he articulates a view that clearly influenced the unschooling movement:

The child's own instincts and powers furnish the material and give the starting-point for all education. Save as the efforts of the educator connect with some activity which the child is carrying on of his own initiative independent of the educator, education becomes reduced to a pressure from without.

From this perspective, education should be the practice of articulating experience. If done well, I believe it deepens the child's sense of self, and cultivates the joy of learning, the wonder, necessary in the active learner.

Whenever I tell people that we are homeschooling our daughter, the first question they almost always ask is "what about social skills?" A valid question, but I usually answer it by turning the question around. Indeed, what kind of social skills are taught in institutionalized schooling? Kids are herded together, sorted by age, and placed into a room with 25 other children born in the same year. Each of these children must compete with one another for the attention of an adult. Based on population alone, children therefore learn 25/26th of their social skills from other children with whom they are in competition, and only 1/26th from adults. Children must earn an adult's attention in one of two ways: either they act out independently and "misbehave," or they conform as closely as possible to what the teacher has set out for them to do. One of these behavior patterns is punished, the other is rewarded. This is basic operant conditioning; the social skills it teaches are to conform as closely as possible to the will of those in authority. In Nietzsche's terminology, classrooms are a prime breeding ground for herd mentality.

On the other hand, in a homeschooling environment at home or in groups, the adult/child ratio is much more manageable. The structure is designed to give the children freedom to explore, as opposed to making the children easy for the teacher to control.

Lastly, I have to mention one other text that influenced me greatly: Paulo Freire's landmark work, Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Chapter Two, where he outlines "the banking model of education," is priceless. One of my favorite passages from this piece: "education is suffering from narration sickness." Narration is the fundamental problem: the structure of the classroom is such that students are spoken to, not engaged in dialogue with the teacher.

^ posted at 2:36 AM

 

pissing at the playground

I recently took my daughter to a playground near our home. When we were there, a small boy announced "I have to go to the bathroom" in a clear, strong, high voice and proceeded to pull down his pants and underwear. The relief on his face was visible as he began to moisten the wood chips surrounding the swingset.

"Daryl!" an adult voice yelled. "No! Don't you do that! Stop it! Goddamit! Daryl NO!" Then the older, bearded man began to run toward him. This small boy, I'd guess about 3 years old, began to flee in a somewhat disturbing, knowing terror, running as fast as he could given that his pants and underwear were down around his ankles. Of course, the old man caught him quickly and repeatedly spanked the little boy's butt.

"Come on!" the man yelled, and grabbed the boy's hand, dragging him away. The boy struggled, and managed to break free for an instant, again fleeing with as much energy as his small body could muster. The old man caught him, spanked him again, shouted some more, and within a minute or two they were out of sight (and earshot).

This incident has haunted me for a few weeks now. What I find disturbing about it is subtle. First, it struck me that the little boy didn't cry, not once. Second, the boy knew enough to run away as quickly as possible when he heard the old man yelling. The environment that produced this boy's knowledge is something I don't want to think about.

Furthermore, why did the old man become so angry because a 3 year old had to take a piss? Most likely, at that age he was still learning to use a toilet, but surely the memory of being able to relieve himself into a diaper, anywhere, anytime at will, must have been etched into the little boy's consciousness. Indeed, it is a freedom that many would, I suspect, be reluctant to give up if they were given more time to make the choice as adults. But social conventions caused the old man to be embarrassed by this child's socially unencumbered relief of his bladder. His shame then caused him to be violent toward this child, which he probably thought was the source of his shame.

^ posted at 1:42 PM

 

I just finished re-reading The Fellowship of the Ring for the first time since I was a child. I had forgotten how delightful a ride it was. The fact that I'm a more careful reader now than I was then helps, too. I remember the book being very challenging then, to the point where I had a hard time getting through it. This time was able to just enjoy the ride. It also made me appreciate even more what a great job they did with the recent movie. Now I'm definitely looking forward to the next one (both book and movie).

^ posted at 8:23 PM

 

spam, eggs, and the chickens of truth

I got another piece of spam today. Actually, it wasn't the spam I usually get; no one was trying to sell me anything, and no one was trying to persuade me to visit a particular website. But it's still spam, according to this definition in The Jargon File. A friend sent me a copy of the famous "Bill 602B" hoax that claimed our fearful leaders were going to start charging 5 cents to send an email on behalf of the federal government. It struck me that this email continues to be circulated after several years of existence. In order for this hoax to continue to circulate, people have to continue to believe in its truth.

How, then, is truth created in a large, interconnected society? Once created, how are truths propagated? It seems that if enough people speak that x is true, then for all practical purposes x is functionally true. Take the spam I mentioned earlier. It is clearly a hoax; once one has gathered enough information it is easily judged to be such. However, it is written in such a way that few would be surprised if it was true. In other words, it is plausible. It is conceivable that our fearful leaders would find yet another way to extract money from the people; indeed they have done so before (which at least partially explains why our leaders are fearful).

So a statement, then, may contain an egg of truth, even if the statement is false. If enough people pick up the eggs and pass them around, then we soon have chickens of truth. And when people see chickens of truth running around, they often stop concerning themselves with eggs, even the eggs of truth. This is one of the problems I have with empiricism. If we can only learn through perceptions and observations, what happens when we live in a society of intellectual complacency, where people tend to repeat only what they hear others say? Of course, power structures of sufficiently advanced size and strength take advantage of this phenomenon. If enough people think that x is true, then it is true. For example, consider this statement:

x = "Britney Spears is a dedicated, inspired artist who makes excellent music."

This statement appears to be true in our society. After all, Britney has sold millions of albums, which by any quantitative measure means that people like her music. In this case, the power structure (the recording industry) has convinced a sizeable, if not gullible, population (mostly 10-year-old girls, 15-year-old boys, and 56-year-old pedophiles) that the above statement is true.

Another similar statement is Bush's now infamous, hammered-into-the-ground claim that "you're either with Us, or you're with The Terrorists(tm)." Bush doesn't realize that, in general, binaries and dualisms don't stand up to careful scrutiny (unless, of course, Bush and his advisors are counting on a lack of such scrutiny). As an example, I still haven't seen a clear distinction between "Us" and "The Terrorists(tm)." I'll save a detailed explanation of what I mean here for another occasion but the point is that, in a society, truth is manufactured and distributed largely in terms of volume, not clarity.

^ posted at 8:59 PM

 

wasting valuable time

My time is not valuable these days. Let me explain. The phrase 'My time is valuable' is usually used when the person uttering the expression is considering whether or not to listen to the words of another person, a person who for one reason or another doesn't have much money, for if he had, it wouldn't be necessary to remind him just how valuable one's time can be. In such instances, 'my time is valuable' means 'you had better say something interesting (usually defined as potentially profitable) extremely soon, because I am so wrapped up in my egocentric, ordered-by-cash-flow universe that I shall soon ignore you completely unless you somehow captivate my attention, and fast.'

So you see what I mean. My time -- if such a thing can be conceived or described (but let's not delve into metaphysical problems just yet) -- cannot be valued in this way. Put another way, valuable (in terms of cash) is precisely what my time is not. I refuse to put a price tag on my time, which leads us to the next problem.

How can 'time' be mine? Is there such a thing as 'my time' that can be economically quantified? (I told you we'd get into metaphysics soon enough!) Time seems to exist apart from me, and my awareness. I have it on good authority that time existed before I did; no more reasonable guess can be made than that time will exist after I am gone. Rather, it is not time per se that is valuable, but one's participation in time. What one does is valuable, and one can only do something in time, momentary flashes of genius and inspiration notwithstanding.

Furthermore, one cannot be conscious outside of time. One's attention is what can be seen as valuable. The focus of one's consciousness is the spur to action. So a more nuanced way to state the point is this: I refuse to put a cash value on my attention. It is not for sale.

^ posted at 1:07 AM

 

Welcome to my (long overdue) blog. More soon (he said hopefully, if everything is working) . . .

^ posted at 12:41 AM