Is it wrong that I don't know the names of the latest law books on the market?
Or that I don't know the names of all the Irish judges, their wives (or husbands!), children and pets?
Is it also wrong that I'm not familiar with the whole list of 'who's who in the law world'?
That I'm not really sure who this SC is or that JC is? That I can't recite the headlines from 3 different papers published today?
I don't know. Maybe it is. Maybe I should know these things. I don't though. And sometimes, I really wonder
1. how these people seem to know all of this, and
2. whether half the time they're only pretending they do.
Either way, I suppose I should think about subscribing to something. The Times, National Geographic, Readers Digest, Cat Fancy, Cosmo... you know, all the quality publications out there! Try and edumacate myself a bit. It's a thought.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Monday, October 16, 2006
A Disturbing Mental Image!
This is very disturbing...
I've heard of prison inmates hiding drugs on their person. I've even heard of syringes being hidden in the many available cavities of the human body.
But, this has got to be a new one... mobile phones!
Apparently, it's true.
Does anyone else think that's just so wrong?!
....As opposed to hiding drugs and syringes in the same way, which is so right!?
I've heard of prison inmates hiding drugs on their person. I've even heard of syringes being hidden in the many available cavities of the human body.
But, this has got to be a new one... mobile phones!
Apparently, it's true.
Does anyone else think that's just so wrong?!
....As opposed to hiding drugs and syringes in the same way, which is so right!?
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Academia Has Nothing To Do With It Now
One of the great things about Kings Inns is that it's almost like a new beginning.
Everyone starts off on the same level. Since no one knows each other, they know nothing about each others past academic performances. Obviously everyone there is intelligent. The entrance exams were not easy. But therein lies the extent of your knowledge. Indeed, if there is someone who you were lucky enough to have been acquainted with already, and whom you always regarded as a bit dim, then Kings Inns brings with it a new opinion of that person.
In fact, you begin to realise that academic grades mean absolutely nothing in the real world. Although, I could have told you that ages ago! It doesn't matter if you got a First Class Honours in your degree ( I didn't!). The list of factors that 'matter' has been completely re-written and reformed; and, if you think that you're going to breeze through just because you were top of your class at University, then think again.
We've left the world of academia behind. Now it's all about professionalism. It's about how well you cope under pressure. It's about your attitude, about your social skills, and more than anything, its about your how good you are at accepting criticism. The addition of this latter point may seem confusing; but, let me explain. Attending Kings Inns marks the beginning of many years of being ripped to shreds. It marks the start of a career where you can expect to be emotionally torn to pieces on a daily basis. Judges don't have regard for your feelings. If they feel that you're presenting your case sloppily, they will tell you to get your unprofessional rear end out of their courtroom. They might even tell you to employ a stylist. Well, ok, maybe not. But, it's always a possibility.
Unfortunately, there are some people who just cannot take criticism. Interestingly enough, those are the people who think that having a First Class Honours degree actually means something in this course.
I wonder how long it'll take for them to figure out that it doesn't? Probably the same length of time it takes them to learn to accept being criticised.
Everyone starts off on the same level. Since no one knows each other, they know nothing about each others past academic performances. Obviously everyone there is intelligent. The entrance exams were not easy. But therein lies the extent of your knowledge. Indeed, if there is someone who you were lucky enough to have been acquainted with already, and whom you always regarded as a bit dim, then Kings Inns brings with it a new opinion of that person.
In fact, you begin to realise that academic grades mean absolutely nothing in the real world. Although, I could have told you that ages ago! It doesn't matter if you got a First Class Honours in your degree ( I didn't!). The list of factors that 'matter' has been completely re-written and reformed; and, if you think that you're going to breeze through just because you were top of your class at University, then think again.
We've left the world of academia behind. Now it's all about professionalism. It's about how well you cope under pressure. It's about your attitude, about your social skills, and more than anything, its about your how good you are at accepting criticism. The addition of this latter point may seem confusing; but, let me explain. Attending Kings Inns marks the beginning of many years of being ripped to shreds. It marks the start of a career where you can expect to be emotionally torn to pieces on a daily basis. Judges don't have regard for your feelings. If they feel that you're presenting your case sloppily, they will tell you to get your unprofessional rear end out of their courtroom. They might even tell you to employ a stylist. Well, ok, maybe not. But, it's always a possibility.
Unfortunately, there are some people who just cannot take criticism. Interestingly enough, those are the people who think that having a First Class Honours degree actually means something in this course.
I wonder how long it'll take for them to figure out that it doesn't? Probably the same length of time it takes them to learn to accept being criticised.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Week 1: A Summary
In the last week, what have I learned?
I've learned how to give feedback, how to give my opinion, and how to negotiate. I've learned how great it is to be in a class where everyone knows the answer, and most importantly, where everyone wants to know the answer!
I've learned how versatile the colour black is, and how it is so important not to judge on first impressions.
I've realised how great it is to feel like I'm actually doing something productive with my life again. I've re-learned how good it feels to be a part of a group of people all aiming at the same thing; all with the same goals in mind. Well, almost the same goals.
I've also learned that there are so many lovely people in the world. One must not get so blinded by the bad that they become ignorant of the good.
Most importantly though, I've learned how foolish girls can be when a handsome, charming, older man is around. Our lecturer is a complete sweetheart. As you can imagine, most of the girls are having trouble acting sensibly. I'm not in any way denying that I find him lovely...I do. But, I like to think that I'm not really the 'throwing myself at a lecturer' type of girl. Sadly though, many don't seem to share this belief. Ah, the results are amusing to say the least. It's like a little social experiment, which I am more than happy to observe; and perhaps even encourage, if only for my own entertainment!
I've learned how to give feedback, how to give my opinion, and how to negotiate. I've learned how great it is to be in a class where everyone knows the answer, and most importantly, where everyone wants to know the answer!
I've learned how versatile the colour black is, and how it is so important not to judge on first impressions.
I've realised how great it is to feel like I'm actually doing something productive with my life again. I've re-learned how good it feels to be a part of a group of people all aiming at the same thing; all with the same goals in mind. Well, almost the same goals.
I've also learned that there are so many lovely people in the world. One must not get so blinded by the bad that they become ignorant of the good.
Most importantly though, I've learned how foolish girls can be when a handsome, charming, older man is around. Our lecturer is a complete sweetheart. As you can imagine, most of the girls are having trouble acting sensibly. I'm not in any way denying that I find him lovely...I do. But, I like to think that I'm not really the 'throwing myself at a lecturer' type of girl. Sadly though, many don't seem to share this belief. Ah, the results are amusing to say the least. It's like a little social experiment, which I am more than happy to observe; and perhaps even encourage, if only for my own entertainment!
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Liz Farrelly: On Dublin
As a little something different, I asked my cousin Liz Farrelly to write a little feature for my blog. She's just moved up to Dublin to go to Trinity, and well, I think I'll let her fill you in on the rest!
"Good God…Dublin is most definitely NOT a fair city. I’ve been invited by Zena to sit down here and rant away about whatever takes my fancy, and for once, I can only think of one thing that’s pissing me off at the moment. Like Zena, I’ve just moved up to Dublin, and even though I’ve only been pounding the pavements of the city for a week, I’ve found something about the place that I hate. The people.
“Eow my Gawd!,” I hear you scoff. “What a statement! She couldn’t possibly hate all the people in Dublin!” But I’m afraid it’s true. Yes, Dublin is diverse. Yes, Dublin is a melting pot of cultures. Yes, Dublin is full to the brim with a positive pick’n’mix selection of different types of unique and special individuals. And yes, I hate them all.
Now, society in Dublin doesn’t work under the usual ‘lower-, middle- and upper-class’ system. To be brutal with you, everybody here is lower class. The only difference between people is how comfortable they are with that status.
First off, you’ve got the ones who are completely, utterly (and perhaps ignorantly) comfortable with being on the bottom rung. You’ll spot them quite easily; they’ll be the ones belting into you in the street without apologising, the ones toting a fine selection of Champion Sports, Pound City and Guineys bags onto the bus at the end of an evening, and the ones for whom a form of multi-tasking is managing to rob you blind whilst dangling a fag from their mouth, screeching at the infant wrapped around their leg and pushing a double buggy down Henry St.
The ‘Dublin middle-class’ is the most frustrating group by far. They are an infuriating herd of people who are desperately scrambling to get away from the caravan, but are incapable of quite catching up with the BMW. They can be slightly more difficult to spot than the other groups; masters of deception they certainly are. They weave tentatively between the two groups, not wanting to appear “lah-di-dah” while, at the same time, being completely unwilling to quietly slip into their place in the dole queue. You’ll probably find them studying Commerce or Computer Science at UCD. A real degree, with none of that ‘poncey Trinners shit’. Will most certainly end up on the Luas back and forth from Ranelagh every day, under fluorescent lights in a suffocating office until they finally get promoted to Department Managing Director or Director of Department Managing or something, and they finally get a reason to throw a dinner party so they and their friends can sit around and pretend to like organic butternut squash and hate George Bush. Roll on the Rosé…
Then you’ve got the cream of the crop; the ‘Dublin upper-class’. Ironically, these are the biggest charity case of the three, for the simple reason that you just have to pity these guys. I mean, they seem to really believe that they’re a cut above the rest. From what I can figure, this is a brief history of the typical evolution from ‘middle-’ to ‘upper-’ class. Somewhere along the line, Mary and Patrick (married at 26, after meeting in their UCD Commerce course) came into some money (I think Patrick got a promotion in the Department of Directing Managers). They upped sticks and headed out to Dawkey, where little Orlaith, Darragh and Cathal were born and bred. Here they led a life filled with coffee mornings, The Sunday Times, rounds of golf and Gaelscoils (“I mean, of coooouwrse we want them to learn about their heritage…it’s just seooow important nowadays”). The upper-classes are usually reserved, in other societies, for ‘old money’. And the thing about ‘old money’ is that, usually, it’s so ‘old’ that the people know how to deal with it by this stage. But herein lies the problem. Money in Ireland is far too new to ever be ‘old’. Any real wealth in this country can only be traced back two or three generations, so bless us, the novelty hasn’t quite worn off yet. And of course, little Orlaith, Darragh and Cathal will certainly be going to Trinity. Only the very best! Look, I hate to be negative (that’s a lie), but these are the people I’m going to be sharing the next four years of my life with; A city of a million people in various stages of delusion about their social status. A bunch of skangers in BT’s clothing. They’ll be asking me for change in the street, they’ll be giving me change in high-street shops, they’ll be teaching their kids to save their pocket money change and use it to start their pension schemes (“You can never start too early!”). So yes, I hate to be negative…but with these people, can you blame me?"
"Good God…Dublin is most definitely NOT a fair city. I’ve been invited by Zena to sit down here and rant away about whatever takes my fancy, and for once, I can only think of one thing that’s pissing me off at the moment. Like Zena, I’ve just moved up to Dublin, and even though I’ve only been pounding the pavements of the city for a week, I’ve found something about the place that I hate. The people.
“Eow my Gawd!,” I hear you scoff. “What a statement! She couldn’t possibly hate all the people in Dublin!” But I’m afraid it’s true. Yes, Dublin is diverse. Yes, Dublin is a melting pot of cultures. Yes, Dublin is full to the brim with a positive pick’n’mix selection of different types of unique and special individuals. And yes, I hate them all.
Now, society in Dublin doesn’t work under the usual ‘lower-, middle- and upper-class’ system. To be brutal with you, everybody here is lower class. The only difference between people is how comfortable they are with that status.
First off, you’ve got the ones who are completely, utterly (and perhaps ignorantly) comfortable with being on the bottom rung. You’ll spot them quite easily; they’ll be the ones belting into you in the street without apologising, the ones toting a fine selection of Champion Sports, Pound City and Guineys bags onto the bus at the end of an evening, and the ones for whom a form of multi-tasking is managing to rob you blind whilst dangling a fag from their mouth, screeching at the infant wrapped around their leg and pushing a double buggy down Henry St.
The ‘Dublin middle-class’ is the most frustrating group by far. They are an infuriating herd of people who are desperately scrambling to get away from the caravan, but are incapable of quite catching up with the BMW. They can be slightly more difficult to spot than the other groups; masters of deception they certainly are. They weave tentatively between the two groups, not wanting to appear “lah-di-dah” while, at the same time, being completely unwilling to quietly slip into their place in the dole queue. You’ll probably find them studying Commerce or Computer Science at UCD. A real degree, with none of that ‘poncey Trinners shit’. Will most certainly end up on the Luas back and forth from Ranelagh every day, under fluorescent lights in a suffocating office until they finally get promoted to Department Managing Director or Director of Department Managing or something, and they finally get a reason to throw a dinner party so they and their friends can sit around and pretend to like organic butternut squash and hate George Bush. Roll on the Rosé…
Then you’ve got the cream of the crop; the ‘Dublin upper-class’. Ironically, these are the biggest charity case of the three, for the simple reason that you just have to pity these guys. I mean, they seem to really believe that they’re a cut above the rest. From what I can figure, this is a brief history of the typical evolution from ‘middle-’ to ‘upper-’ class. Somewhere along the line, Mary and Patrick (married at 26, after meeting in their UCD Commerce course) came into some money (I think Patrick got a promotion in the Department of Directing Managers). They upped sticks and headed out to Dawkey, where little Orlaith, Darragh and Cathal were born and bred. Here they led a life filled with coffee mornings, The Sunday Times, rounds of golf and Gaelscoils (“I mean, of coooouwrse we want them to learn about their heritage…it’s just seooow important nowadays”). The upper-classes are usually reserved, in other societies, for ‘old money’. And the thing about ‘old money’ is that, usually, it’s so ‘old’ that the people know how to deal with it by this stage. But herein lies the problem. Money in Ireland is far too new to ever be ‘old’. Any real wealth in this country can only be traced back two or three generations, so bless us, the novelty hasn’t quite worn off yet. And of course, little Orlaith, Darragh and Cathal will certainly be going to Trinity. Only the very best! Look, I hate to be negative (that’s a lie), but these are the people I’m going to be sharing the next four years of my life with; A city of a million people in various stages of delusion about their social status. A bunch of skangers in BT’s clothing. They’ll be asking me for change in the street, they’ll be giving me change in high-street shops, they’ll be teaching their kids to save their pocket money change and use it to start their pension schemes (“You can never start too early!”). So yes, I hate to be negative…but with these people, can you blame me?"
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Coloured Dresses Have Rights Too
As a Kings Inns student you need to attend at least 10 dinners in the year. Don’t ask me what’s involved, but I’m thinking a lot of schmoozing and networking. Needless to say, a girl’s got to have a lot of dresses if she’s expected to go to all these dinners. For those of you asking why I don’t just rotate between 5 or 6..I ask you, are you sane? Are you a guy? Probably yes on both counts. It would be more sensible, it would be the option most men would be in favour of; but such a decision would be nothing short of the kiss of death for any fashion conscious young woman. Or old woman for that matter! Although in the case of the latter it could be reasonably put down to senility, or alzheimers, or diabetes, or toothlessness and the like. I am not yet old. Luckily, I have many dresses. Apparently though, as I was kindly informed last night by Flatmate-Aine (that’s pronounced Awn-yaa) who conveniently has just finished the course I’m starting, dress code for these dinners comprises of 1 word – Black! Black dress, suit, trousers, skirt, hotpants…they’ll all do. Main thing is though, that you must look like you’re in mourning. I didn’t really take this news very well. I like colour. In fact, I enjoy looking like I’m alive, or at least looking like everyone I’m related to is still alive. Was just looking through my wardrobe, and I have a feeling I’m going to be needing a lot more black! In fact, my current shopping list looks a little something like this:
5 Black Dresses
1 Black Trouser Suit
1 Black Skirt Suit
1 Pair of Black High Heels
1 Pair of Black Flat Shoes
It is at times like this that I must confess, it would be much easier to be a man! In fact, this new turn of affairs has put a bit of a damper on these dinners everyone’s been raving about. To be quite truthful, I’m having second thoughts about how suitable a career with such a bland dress code is for me!
You know what though? Black is black, but black does not have to be boring!! I can accessorise, and most importantly, I do believe that technically a dress code does not cover the colour of shoes. And I have just as many coloured shoes as I do dresses. Red, Gold, Pink, Silver, Green; watch out Kings Inns, my feet are not going to be boring! Now this is getting interesting. It’s almost like a little game; how many attractive outfits can I pull off while sticking to the dress code? And if all fails, what can they really do if I do turn up in a red dress?? They may call it a dress code, but I can easily call it discrimination. Coloured-dresses have rights too, and I’m all for upholding them! Until next time.
5 Black Dresses
1 Black Trouser Suit
1 Black Skirt Suit
1 Pair of Black High Heels
1 Pair of Black Flat Shoes
It is at times like this that I must confess, it would be much easier to be a man! In fact, this new turn of affairs has put a bit of a damper on these dinners everyone’s been raving about. To be quite truthful, I’m having second thoughts about how suitable a career with such a bland dress code is for me!
You know what though? Black is black, but black does not have to be boring!! I can accessorise, and most importantly, I do believe that technically a dress code does not cover the colour of shoes. And I have just as many coloured shoes as I do dresses. Red, Gold, Pink, Silver, Green; watch out Kings Inns, my feet are not going to be boring! Now this is getting interesting. It’s almost like a little game; how many attractive outfits can I pull off while sticking to the dress code? And if all fails, what can they really do if I do turn up in a red dress?? They may call it a dress code, but I can easily call it discrimination. Coloured-dresses have rights too, and I’m all for upholding them! Until next time.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
First Day In Dublin
Well, first day here. Got the 7 am train from Cork with my cat, my laptop, a suitcase that took 3 grown men to lift, and about a million other things. Can't believe I made it up here alive!
But, I did! And I've even registered.
Don't know if I'll be able to survive the year though. Surrounded by pompous, pretentious, annoying people who think they're something just because they're in Kings Inns. Hello!! It's not that big a deal!
Oh, the things I had to listen to today...
"Ah, yes...blah blah blah the Italian 150 euro jacket I bought for Kings Inns."
Ok, sorry, but...150 euro? That's cheap for a nice jacket!!!!
And what about the guy who thinks the world spins for him:
"Oh, looks like I had nothing to worry about, well or so the results showed. Yadda Yadda Blah Blah *cue rolling of eyes and smug expression* I'm so wonderful I'd love to smother myself with chocolate and lick it all off I'm just so amazing."
Ok, I may be exaggerating, but that's the extent that this particular person loves himself. Let's call him 'Bighead'. I have a feeling I'll be writing about him alot. The urge to take my gown and strangle him with it is almost, I say almost, too much to ignore. Still though, suppose I must just ignore him and let him live out his egotistical life in peace...if only for the sake of chocolate spread makers worldwide.
Until next time..
But, I did! And I've even registered.
Don't know if I'll be able to survive the year though. Surrounded by pompous, pretentious, annoying people who think they're something just because they're in Kings Inns. Hello!! It's not that big a deal!
Oh, the things I had to listen to today...
"Ah, yes...blah blah blah the Italian 150 euro jacket I bought for Kings Inns."
Ok, sorry, but...150 euro? That's cheap for a nice jacket!!!!
And what about the guy who thinks the world spins for him:
"Oh, looks like I had nothing to worry about, well or so the results showed. Yadda Yadda Blah Blah *cue rolling of eyes and smug expression* I'm so wonderful I'd love to smother myself with chocolate and lick it all off I'm just so amazing."
Ok, I may be exaggerating, but that's the extent that this particular person loves himself. Let's call him 'Bighead'. I have a feeling I'll be writing about him alot. The urge to take my gown and strangle him with it is almost, I say almost, too much to ignore. Still though, suppose I must just ignore him and let him live out his egotistical life in peace...if only for the sake of chocolate spread makers worldwide.
Until next time..
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Chasm Of Fire
Irina Tweedie writes in "Chasm Of Fire":
"I recalled particularly, on a day of trembling luminousity, of sparkly transparency, that he was already seated outside when an Indian village woman came to him. She was small, very thin, her face wrinkled and shrunken, as if dried up by the merciless sun and the hot winds of the plains. She was telling an endless, sorrowful litany of her troubles. Illnesses, misery, the death of her husband and most of her children. Now she was alone, useless, nobody needed her, she had nothing to hope for, nothing to live for...
...And she came out with the question which seemed to burn, scorching her trembling lips: 'Maharaj, why did God create this world so full of troubles? Why did he create me to endure all these sufferings?' I saw him lean forward, a shimmering light in his eyes, the light of compassion I knew and loved so well. His voice was soft when he answered:
'Why has He created the world? That you should be in it! Why has He created you? He is alone; He needs you!'
Never will I forget the broad, blissful smile on that lined emaciated face when she was walking away. She went happy in the knowledge that she was not alone, not really, for God needed her to keep Him company because He too was alone...
...Only a very great soul could have expressed so simply and convincingly one of the Great mysteries to a naive, childlike village woman. The Ultimate Metaphysical Truth; that He who is Alone and Perfect, in order to realise His Perfection, created the Universe..."
"I recalled particularly, on a day of trembling luminousity, of sparkly transparency, that he was already seated outside when an Indian village woman came to him. She was small, very thin, her face wrinkled and shrunken, as if dried up by the merciless sun and the hot winds of the plains. She was telling an endless, sorrowful litany of her troubles. Illnesses, misery, the death of her husband and most of her children. Now she was alone, useless, nobody needed her, she had nothing to hope for, nothing to live for...
...And she came out with the question which seemed to burn, scorching her trembling lips: 'Maharaj, why did God create this world so full of troubles? Why did he create me to endure all these sufferings?' I saw him lean forward, a shimmering light in his eyes, the light of compassion I knew and loved so well. His voice was soft when he answered:
'Why has He created the world? That you should be in it! Why has He created you? He is alone; He needs you!'
Never will I forget the broad, blissful smile on that lined emaciated face when she was walking away. She went happy in the knowledge that she was not alone, not really, for God needed her to keep Him company because He too was alone...
...Only a very great soul could have expressed so simply and convincingly one of the Great mysteries to a naive, childlike village woman. The Ultimate Metaphysical Truth; that He who is Alone and Perfect, in order to realise His Perfection, created the Universe..."
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Just Waiting...Still Waiting...Yep, Stiiillll Waiting!
I've been waiting for the postman since 9am this morning.
It's now 1pm and he still hasn't shown.
Don't get me wrong, I love the whole 'postman coming to your door in his little green van' postal system!
But my results are out today, and I wonder if he knows that and isn't just taking his time on purpose!
Evil postman!
It's now 1pm and he still hasn't shown.
Don't get me wrong, I love the whole 'postman coming to your door in his little green van' postal system!
But my results are out today, and I wonder if he knows that and isn't just taking his time on purpose!
Evil postman!
Friday, September 22, 2006
PatternsOf Reality
Poincare asked "Why is the reality the most acceptable to science one that no small child can be expected to understand?"
Pirsig asks "Should reality be something only a handful of the world's most advanced physicists understand? One would expect at least a majority of people to understand it. Should reality be expressible only in symbols that require university-level mathematics to manipulate? Should it be something that changes from year to year as new scientific theories are formulated?"
He goes on to explain that in a "value-centered Metaphysics of Quality this "scientific reality" platypus vanishes. Reality, which is value, is understood by every infant....science is a set of static intellectual patterns describing this reality, but the patterns are not the reality they describe."
The patterns are not the reality that they descibe.
Not the reality that they describe.
A description of reality.
Not reality itself.
Not real.
Reality, as I've been saying all along, is subjective.
On another note, I'll be back to the rain soon.
Pirsig asks "Should reality be something only a handful of the world's most advanced physicists understand? One would expect at least a majority of people to understand it. Should reality be expressible only in symbols that require university-level mathematics to manipulate? Should it be something that changes from year to year as new scientific theories are formulated?"
He goes on to explain that in a "value-centered Metaphysics of Quality this "scientific reality" platypus vanishes. Reality, which is value, is understood by every infant....science is a set of static intellectual patterns describing this reality, but the patterns are not the reality they describe."
The patterns are not the reality that they descibe.
Not the reality that they describe.
A description of reality.
Not reality itself.
Not real.
Reality, as I've been saying all along, is subjective.
On another note, I'll be back to the rain soon.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
100,000 years to extinction??
I read somewhere the other day that a species usually has about 100,000 years before it destroys itself.
Does anyone know how long humans have been on earth?
I just want to know how much time I have left.
Does anyone know how long humans have been on earth?
I just want to know how much time I have left.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Clarity In The Stars
The Barefoot Doctor writes that 'there's something disturbingly privileged about living through and witnessing first-hand such momentous phases of human history as the one we're in now. This will be the stuff of history lessons a hundred years from now, if there are still schools, or even people, for that matter'. Bar the latter extremely depressing question, it a startlingly accurate statement. He's right. We are witnesses to a new era, to events of massive proportions. He explains that the 'key to sanity at this and every time is to remain centered in the present'; to 'become aware of the breath and consciously decelerate the tempo, feel the life force in your belly.'
It's much easier said than done really isn't it? I know my own mind is forever in the throes of analyzing the past, or trying to predict the future. I hardly ever focus on the moment. I did last night though. I floated on my back staring at the stars, the only person in an empty swimming pool; and I concentrated on the moment. On the present. I gained calm, I gained clarity, I gained perspective, and I came home and fixed something that I didn't want to break. Sometimes you have to think about yourself, follow your instincts, and try not to let the ego and self get in the way. Try not to be so stubborn ;)
It's much easier said than done really isn't it? I know my own mind is forever in the throes of analyzing the past, or trying to predict the future. I hardly ever focus on the moment. I did last night though. I floated on my back staring at the stars, the only person in an empty swimming pool; and I concentrated on the moment. On the present. I gained calm, I gained clarity, I gained perspective, and I came home and fixed something that I didn't want to break. Sometimes you have to think about yourself, follow your instincts, and try not to let the ego and self get in the way. Try not to be so stubborn ;)
Friday, September 15, 2006
Lock Me Away
I feel like locking myself into a room forever,
I don't think I can handle civilisation anymore.
I tear myself apart to defend anothers honour,
and then they tell me they kinda liked the way it was before.
Now I'm left here standing with a body unwhole,
no thread could hold together this self-ravaged soul.
I'll walk through the night with my heart in my hands,
blood dripping behind me as I blindly advance.
I don't think I can handle civilisation anymore.
I tear myself apart to defend anothers honour,
and then they tell me they kinda liked the way it was before.
Now I'm left here standing with a body unwhole,
no thread could hold together this self-ravaged soul.
I'll walk through the night with my heart in my hands,
blood dripping behind me as I blindly advance.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Fighting The Inevitable
Is there anything admirable in fighting against the inevitable??
That's something I'm wondering. The way I see it tonight...there isn't. Fighting against the inevitable is pointless. And yet, we all do it. Whole societies are doing it. I fight against the inevitable on a daily basis. And for what? What do I gain? Recongnition? Praise? Contentment? No on all counts. I can tell you what I lose though. I lose my time, I lose my sleep, I lose my energy, I lose my mind. The only things I can think of that I gain are wrinkles. And personally, I don't want them.
Life seems to be a constant lie. Lying to ourselves, to others; and the one that hurts the most, lying to those you love, to those who love and trust you. It's crazy. And yet, society imposes upon us this necessity to lie. Why? Because of the continual fight against the inevitable. Everyday I'm seeing this fight more and more in the Arab world.
It's really getting me down.
I just don't want to lie anymore.
Life is over in a blink of an eye. There's no time for doubts, for procrastinating, for shyness. Take all the chances you're given. Tell every single person you love that you love them; put your arms out that give them a hug. Time waits for no one. If its there, if you feel it, let it show. Don't waste your time in a job you hate, or with people you don't even really like. Take life by the shoulders and shake it till every single last bit of it is used up. Do it all, and don't let it be that in your last breath you wished you had done more.
That's something I'm wondering. The way I see it tonight...there isn't. Fighting against the inevitable is pointless. And yet, we all do it. Whole societies are doing it. I fight against the inevitable on a daily basis. And for what? What do I gain? Recongnition? Praise? Contentment? No on all counts. I can tell you what I lose though. I lose my time, I lose my sleep, I lose my energy, I lose my mind. The only things I can think of that I gain are wrinkles. And personally, I don't want them.
Life seems to be a constant lie. Lying to ourselves, to others; and the one that hurts the most, lying to those you love, to those who love and trust you. It's crazy. And yet, society imposes upon us this necessity to lie. Why? Because of the continual fight against the inevitable. Everyday I'm seeing this fight more and more in the Arab world.
It's really getting me down.
I just don't want to lie anymore.
Life is over in a blink of an eye. There's no time for doubts, for procrastinating, for shyness. Take all the chances you're given. Tell every single person you love that you love them; put your arms out that give them a hug. Time waits for no one. If its there, if you feel it, let it show. Don't waste your time in a job you hate, or with people you don't even really like. Take life by the shoulders and shake it till every single last bit of it is used up. Do it all, and don't let it be that in your last breath you wished you had done more.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
David Hume's 'Senseless Child'
David Hume was an empiricist. That is, he believed that all knowledge is derived exclusively from the senses. The scientific method of experimentation is a good example of carefully controlled empiricism. So what? you may ask. Well, don't you see where this line of thinking takes you? Let us look at a child that was born without any senses whatsoever, a 'senseless' child so to speak. A child unable to receive any information from his senses. What would be the mental state of the child? The mental stae of the adult that he becomes? Would he have any thoughts? Hume believed that he would have no thoughts whatsoever. Senseless = Thoughtless. If you think about it, it's very interesting. We assume that as a human, we instinctively have thoughts. But what do we have thoughts about?? Things we see, things we hear, things we touch, smell, taste. What if we had none of our senses? What then would be think about? Our entire lifetime of experience is built up of data we glean from the use of our senses - 'sensory data'. And this is the basic line of thought of Hume and other empiricists. Pirsig noted 2 problems with this reasoning. Firstly, considering the question: what is this substance which gives off this sensory data?? If all knowledge is obtained from sensory impressions, and if there is no sensory impression of substance itself, then it logically follows that there is no knowledge of substance. That is, it is all in our minds. I can imagine that many of you who read my blog would be appalled at the very thought that the world we live in, our lives, are anything other than solid, and concrete, outside of and out of the control of our subjective selves. And yet... well I digress. Secondly, Pirsig considered the issue of causation. If all knowledge comes through our senses, then we must ask the question: from what sense data is our knowlege of causation received? That is, what is the scientific empirical basis of causation itself? Hume was of the opinion that, simply, we imagine causation when one thing repeatedly follows another, because to consider otherwise would be out of line with empiricism, as there is no evidence for causation in our sensations.
Hume believed that our idea of causation is little more than expectation; expectation for certain events to result after other events that precede them. For this Hume coined the term 'constant conjunction'. That is, when we see that one event always 'causes' another, what we are really seeing is that one event has always been 'constantly conjoined' to the other. The reason we do believe in cause and effect is not because cause and effect are the actual way of nature; we believe because of the psychological habits of human nature (Popkin & Stroll, 1993). Hume believed that 'Nature' and 'Nature's laws' are creations of our own imaginations. To an extent, I would agree with this last statement. I say to an extent, because at some point I begin to wonder what the situation would be if humans were not around. Would there be no cause and effect simply because we would not be here to identify it?? Surely we can assume that animals have basic concepts of cause and effect. I believe Popkin and Stroll should not have limited their reasoning to human nature, and instead have referred to the nature of all living organisms. An experiment I learned about so many years ago comes to mind; that of a sea slug being prodded with a finger and then blasted with a jet of water. Over time, the simple prodding of the finger brought about the recoil that was its instant reaction when squirted with water. The slug had identified the connection between the initial prodding and the final squirt of water. Cause and effect. And yet, we're back to the question of what would happen if the slug had no senses? If it could not feel the prod of the finger or the squirt of water? A senseless slug? Is cause and effect a by-product of our sensory observations?
Immanuel Kant said that it was David Hume who caused him to write his 'Critique Of Pure Reason'. In it and through it, Kant effectively tries to save empiricism from the consequences of its own self-devouring logic. He said "That all our knowledge begins with experience there can be no doubt...But though knowledge begins with experience, it doesn't follow that it arises out of experience." He identified aspects of reality not supplied immediately by the senses. Such as space, and time. We do not sense time; that it, it is not present in our sensory data. And yet, we do not ask ourselves if time exists! We do not ask for sensory data to confirm its existence. Such 'a priori' concepts are neither caused by the sensed object nor bring it into being, but provide a kind of screening function for what sense data we accept. We apply these concepts of space and time to the impressions we receive. Otherwise, the world would be unintelligible. I am not sure who to attribute this quote, but it was said that, in fact, "Reality is a continuous synthesis of elements from a fixed hierarchy of 'a priori' concepts and the ever changing data of the senses."
So is that what reality is?? I don't know. In fact, I really should not be posting about this, as I am in no way an expert on this. I don't think I could even be called a beginner; That is, I know that little about it all. I need to read more; understand the points of view of those before me, before I can make my own conclusions, offer my own opinions, or indeed, speak about their theories. What I know of their thoughts is not worth talking about. It's the tip of the iceberg, and I know that. So, I'm off. I'm going to the bookshop. Enjoy.
Hume believed that our idea of causation is little more than expectation; expectation for certain events to result after other events that precede them. For this Hume coined the term 'constant conjunction'. That is, when we see that one event always 'causes' another, what we are really seeing is that one event has always been 'constantly conjoined' to the other. The reason we do believe in cause and effect is not because cause and effect are the actual way of nature; we believe because of the psychological habits of human nature (Popkin & Stroll, 1993). Hume believed that 'Nature' and 'Nature's laws' are creations of our own imaginations. To an extent, I would agree with this last statement. I say to an extent, because at some point I begin to wonder what the situation would be if humans were not around. Would there be no cause and effect simply because we would not be here to identify it?? Surely we can assume that animals have basic concepts of cause and effect. I believe Popkin and Stroll should not have limited their reasoning to human nature, and instead have referred to the nature of all living organisms. An experiment I learned about so many years ago comes to mind; that of a sea slug being prodded with a finger and then blasted with a jet of water. Over time, the simple prodding of the finger brought about the recoil that was its instant reaction when squirted with water. The slug had identified the connection between the initial prodding and the final squirt of water. Cause and effect. And yet, we're back to the question of what would happen if the slug had no senses? If it could not feel the prod of the finger or the squirt of water? A senseless slug? Is cause and effect a by-product of our sensory observations?
Immanuel Kant said that it was David Hume who caused him to write his 'Critique Of Pure Reason'. In it and through it, Kant effectively tries to save empiricism from the consequences of its own self-devouring logic. He said "That all our knowledge begins with experience there can be no doubt...But though knowledge begins with experience, it doesn't follow that it arises out of experience." He identified aspects of reality not supplied immediately by the senses. Such as space, and time. We do not sense time; that it, it is not present in our sensory data. And yet, we do not ask ourselves if time exists! We do not ask for sensory data to confirm its existence. Such 'a priori' concepts are neither caused by the sensed object nor bring it into being, but provide a kind of screening function for what sense data we accept. We apply these concepts of space and time to the impressions we receive. Otherwise, the world would be unintelligible. I am not sure who to attribute this quote, but it was said that, in fact, "Reality is a continuous synthesis of elements from a fixed hierarchy of 'a priori' concepts and the ever changing data of the senses."
So is that what reality is?? I don't know. In fact, I really should not be posting about this, as I am in no way an expert on this. I don't think I could even be called a beginner; That is, I know that little about it all. I need to read more; understand the points of view of those before me, before I can make my own conclusions, offer my own opinions, or indeed, speak about their theories. What I know of their thoughts is not worth talking about. It's the tip of the iceberg, and I know that. So, I'm off. I'm going to the bookshop. Enjoy.
It Is Later Than You Think
I was clearing through my room today, and I came across a scrapbook that I had put together in 2000. Of course you forget about so many things until you're reminded of them in some way, whether its a noise, a smell, a memory trigger, or actually coming face to face with it. Don't you ever wonder what the point is of living if you forget 90% of it? I mean, so much that happens is just forgotten. That's why its good to have a sister, she remembers things I forget, and vice versa. Although its usually her remembering things, my memory is shocking lately! Still though, she need only remind me, and it comes flowing back, and I remember that it didn't happen like that at all! What is she saying?! Different aspects of the same situation impact differently on different people. I remember the looks, the body language, she remembers the words. That's the way it is, and it works out just fine. But, I digress, the point was that I came across this scrapbook, and what it is, is a book of newspaper clippings. Things that were in the news that I thought were interesting, that I thought I would like to look back on in years to come. What did I see? The same things that are in the news today. Nuclear weapons, Hezbullah, Israel, ceasefires, gay rights, and halfway through the book, the trial and execution of Timothy McVeigh. If you'll remember, he was the 'Oaklahoma City Bomber' put to death by lethal injection. In the book is his story, day by day for almost 3 weeks. It was something that I now remember had a profound effect on me. It was the beginning of the end perhaps. The beginning of an interest in justice, in the policies of countries, in what I have come to realise will be an eternal quest for the truth. I have no interest in bringing up the past right now, and even less interest in depressing you any further than I am sure my previous posts have, but it has made me think. I know that many argue that capital punishment is effective justice; that it deters future crime. But I ask, should we not use our resources in a manner that seeks to REFORM these criminals. Can we justify the giving up on them that is capital punishment? Is it not just a simple way to end our problems? To ensure that they will not be taking up room in our jails, depleting the countries resources and not putting anything back into the economy? The easiest option is usually not the right one.
Its a debate that goes round in circles. I dont know about you, but I'm sick of spinning. Thats all that I've been doing lately. Today, I made the first step towards slowing down the spin. I can't say what it is, but I'm excited. As Horace once said ' it is later than you think'. I don't want to waste any more time. I want to end this post with a quote by Harold Whitman, I think it says it all:
"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
Its a debate that goes round in circles. I dont know about you, but I'm sick of spinning. Thats all that I've been doing lately. Today, I made the first step towards slowing down the spin. I can't say what it is, but I'm excited. As Horace once said ' it is later than you think'. I don't want to waste any more time. I want to end this post with a quote by Harold Whitman, I think it says it all:
"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
Friday, September 08, 2006
Links To Articles Of Interest
"'Gaza is a jail. Nobody is allowed to leave. We are all starving now'"
"Palestinians tell Blair: you are not welcome here"
For those that think that America is some 'saint' when it comes to fighting wars, and upholding human rights, I have this to say. There is nothing saintly about starting wars; and human rights?? How can human beings decide what rights we as humans are entitled to have?? Such rights should exist to the extent that those who are entitled to take our lives away from us say they should exist. As you can see, this effectively means that, for the Palestinians, Iraqis and Lebanese, it is America, Israel and the UK that decides what their rights as human beings are. God help the Arabs is all I can say. And yet, I fear that even God will have to go through them, the only axis of evil that I can see evidence of (US, Israel and UK), and gain their permission, before being able to help!
Here are a few more snippets of articles that may be of interest. Click the highlighted words to view the full articles:
"In October 1950, the first year of the Korean War, American soldiers massacred tens of thousands of innocent people in the North Korean city of Sinchon. In perhaps the most horrifying incident, US soldiers led 900 residents, including 300 women and children, into an air-raid shelter. After the victims passed three days in thirst and fear, the GIs poured gasoline into the dark, confined space and threw in a match"
"The head of Europe's human rights watchdog yesterday called for monitoring of CIA agents operating in Britain and other European countries, after President George Bush's admission that the US had detained terrorist suspects in secret prisons."
"In one bedroom, a picture of the late Pope John Paul II was found carefully torn into three pieces. "The picture was hanging on the wall, and we found the glass from the frame still intact, but the picture had been torn," said Tawfic. "For me it shows the Israelis don't like either Christians or Muslims, only themselves.""
"Palestinians tell Blair: you are not welcome here"
For those that think that America is some 'saint' when it comes to fighting wars, and upholding human rights, I have this to say. There is nothing saintly about starting wars; and human rights?? How can human beings decide what rights we as humans are entitled to have?? Such rights should exist to the extent that those who are entitled to take our lives away from us say they should exist. As you can see, this effectively means that, for the Palestinians, Iraqis and Lebanese, it is America, Israel and the UK that decides what their rights as human beings are. God help the Arabs is all I can say. And yet, I fear that even God will have to go through them, the only axis of evil that I can see evidence of (US, Israel and UK), and gain their permission, before being able to help!
Here are a few more snippets of articles that may be of interest. Click the highlighted words to view the full articles:
"In October 1950, the first year of the Korean War, American soldiers massacred tens of thousands of innocent people in the North Korean city of Sinchon. In perhaps the most horrifying incident, US soldiers led 900 residents, including 300 women and children, into an air-raid shelter. After the victims passed three days in thirst and fear, the GIs poured gasoline into the dark, confined space and threw in a match"
"The head of Europe's human rights watchdog yesterday called for monitoring of CIA agents operating in Britain and other European countries, after President George Bush's admission that the US had detained terrorist suspects in secret prisons."
"In one bedroom, a picture of the late Pope John Paul II was found carefully torn into three pieces. "The picture was hanging on the wall, and we found the glass from the frame still intact, but the picture had been torn," said Tawfic. "For me it shows the Israelis don't like either Christians or Muslims, only themselves.""
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
To Be, Or Not To Be; An Engineer?
Paul Coelho was asked how he had decided he wanted to be a writer. Here's what he said:
"When I was fifteen, I said to my mother: 'I've discovered my vocation. I want to be a writer.' 'My dear,' she replied sadly, 'your father is an engineer. He's a logical, reasonable man with a very clear vision of the world. Do you actually know what it means to be a writer?' In order to answer my mother's question, I decided to do some research. This is what I learned about what being a writer meant in the early 1960s:
A writer always wears glasses and never combs his hair. Half the time he feels angry about everything and the other half depressed. He says very 'deep' things. He always has amazing ideas for the plot of his next novel, and hates the one he has just published. A writer has a duty and an obligation never to be understood by his own generation.. A writer understands about things with alarming names, like semiotics, epistemology, neoconcretism. When trying to seduce a woman, a writer says: 'I'm a writer', and scribbles a poem on a napkin. It always works. When invited to say what he is reading at the moment, a writer always mentions a book no one has ever heard of. Armed with all this information, I went back to my mother and explained exactly what a writer was. She was somewhat surprised. 'It would be easier to be an engineer,' she said. 'Besides, you don't wear glasses.' "
It made me laugh, because its something that myself and Ismaool were talking about the other night. The differences in how life, the world, problems and so on are approached depending on how your mind is trained. He's an engineer, I'm a lawyer, our approaches to life couldn't be any more different! Paul Coelho's mother was right when she wanted him to be an engineer. You know why? Because he's always going to be SURE. An engineer sees life as a set of right or wrong answers, there's nothing in between. There's no deliberation. There are formulas, equations, methods; follow them and you're on the right path. On the way to correctness, to excellence, to TRUTH. Ask me what truth is, and I tell you that it depends on whose side you're looking at it from. Truth in what sense? I ask you whether truth as a fact really does exist. In effect, I complicate my life. I don't think its a characteristic of all lawyers. In fact, my good friend P is a lawyer, and if you listened to our conversation over dinner last night you would realise that being a lawyer is in no way a hinderance to his being sure about anything. His background as a lawyer means that he is open to looking at a problem from many different points of view but it does not encourage him to complicate his life. Maybe it's just the philosophical writer within me. I always was very good at coming up with all those different 'meanings' that writers of classics intended. We all know they intended none of it. When they said the table was round, they meant the table was round. They weren't intending it to be a metaphor for the circle of life or something similar... Or did they?
See what I mean!
To be honest though, I think an education in the arts is far more beneficial in the long run. It may mean more complications, but it means you can think outside the box. Or it should mean that. For many, thats sadly not the case. But thats for another post.
"When I was fifteen, I said to my mother: 'I've discovered my vocation. I want to be a writer.' 'My dear,' she replied sadly, 'your father is an engineer. He's a logical, reasonable man with a very clear vision of the world. Do you actually know what it means to be a writer?' In order to answer my mother's question, I decided to do some research. This is what I learned about what being a writer meant in the early 1960s:
A writer always wears glasses and never combs his hair. Half the time he feels angry about everything and the other half depressed. He says very 'deep' things. He always has amazing ideas for the plot of his next novel, and hates the one he has just published. A writer has a duty and an obligation never to be understood by his own generation.. A writer understands about things with alarming names, like semiotics, epistemology, neoconcretism. When trying to seduce a woman, a writer says: 'I'm a writer', and scribbles a poem on a napkin. It always works. When invited to say what he is reading at the moment, a writer always mentions a book no one has ever heard of. Armed with all this information, I went back to my mother and explained exactly what a writer was. She was somewhat surprised. 'It would be easier to be an engineer,' she said. 'Besides, you don't wear glasses.' "
It made me laugh, because its something that myself and Ismaool were talking about the other night. The differences in how life, the world, problems and so on are approached depending on how your mind is trained. He's an engineer, I'm a lawyer, our approaches to life couldn't be any more different! Paul Coelho's mother was right when she wanted him to be an engineer. You know why? Because he's always going to be SURE. An engineer sees life as a set of right or wrong answers, there's nothing in between. There's no deliberation. There are formulas, equations, methods; follow them and you're on the right path. On the way to correctness, to excellence, to TRUTH. Ask me what truth is, and I tell you that it depends on whose side you're looking at it from. Truth in what sense? I ask you whether truth as a fact really does exist. In effect, I complicate my life. I don't think its a characteristic of all lawyers. In fact, my good friend P is a lawyer, and if you listened to our conversation over dinner last night you would realise that being a lawyer is in no way a hinderance to his being sure about anything. His background as a lawyer means that he is open to looking at a problem from many different points of view but it does not encourage him to complicate his life. Maybe it's just the philosophical writer within me. I always was very good at coming up with all those different 'meanings' that writers of classics intended. We all know they intended none of it. When they said the table was round, they meant the table was round. They weren't intending it to be a metaphor for the circle of life or something similar... Or did they?
See what I mean!
To be honest though, I think an education in the arts is far more beneficial in the long run. It may mean more complications, but it means you can think outside the box. Or it should mean that. For many, thats sadly not the case. But thats for another post.
So Now An Actual Language Is Offensive?
Did you hear about the guy who was prevented from boarding his plane in a New York airport until he changed his t-shirt? It's true. What was on his t-shirt that was so offensive? Perhpaps the stench of BO? Or maybe his breakfast? The words 'I Have A Bomb'? No. Simply, Arabic script. That's it. What's more, the translation was right underneath it in English.
Read HERE for the full story.
If you want to check out his blog, click HERE.
Read HERE for the full story.
If you want to check out his blog, click HERE.
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