The Tower of Babylon

Tijela - Bodies

2009-11-28T13:47:53Z

An intro to the poem from the mouth of the brilliant Tyler Durden:

"You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."

We, indeed, are the all-singin, all-dancing crap of the world. So what? It's what living's all about. Enjoy your Matoš:

Bodies

bodies bodies

everyplace everywhere

spilled scattered
an easy move of the Hands
Bodies silent in prayer
Bodies screaming with joy
Bodies wailing in despair
Bodies dreaming
Bodies kissing bodies
Bodies upon bodies in sweat
making new bodies
Bodies rotting with disease
twinkling out like lamps
dying
Bodies in the night springing flying falling
My body carried with the winds
My body craving the stars
Which the clouds swallowed
Indeed it is: an eternal watch of the calm Eyes
bodies bodies bodies

Original poem by Antun Gustav Matoš. Translation by me.

***

Uvod u pjesmu iz usta briljantnog Tylera Durdena:

"You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."

I zaista jesmo, all singing, all dancing crap of the world. I što onda? Baš je to ono zašto živimo. Uživajte u Matošu:

Tijela

tijela tijela

svagdje svuda

razasuta razvitlana
lakim kretom jednih Ruku
Tijela ćute u molitvi
Tijela kriče u radosti
Tijela vrište u očaju
Tijela u snu
Tijela ljube tijela
Tijela povrh tijela u grčima
u stvaranju novih tijela
Tijela trunu u bolesti
gasnu kao žute lampe
mru
Tijela kroz noć hite lete padaju
Moje tijelo vjetri nose
Moje tijelo vapi zvijezde
Oblaci su zvijezde progutali
I jest: vječno jedne Oči mirno gledaju
tijela tijela tijela

Here we go again - Eto nas opet

2009-11-23T22:53:33Z

The university of Pula is blockaded. The College of Humanities (the largest college at the Uni of Zagreb) is blockaded too. The dean of the College of Humanities in Rijeka started IDing students at the entrance to the college - so we have the first sign of repression in this batch of the blockades. The protests are rekindled but I have a feeling it'll go much grimmer this semester than it did the last. Good luck to us all!

One world - one struggle!

PS
It seems around 70 colleges around Europe are blockaded too. Weeeeeee

***

Sveučilište u Puli je blokirano. Filozofski fakultet u Zagrebu je blokiran isto. Dekan Filozofskog fakulteta u Rijeci je počeo legitimirati studente na ulazu u faks - tako da imamo prve znakove represije u ovoj rundi blokada. Prosvjedi ponovno počinju ali imam osjećaj da će ovaj semestar biti puno gore nego prošli semestar. Sretno nam bilo!

Jedan svijet - jedna borba!

PS
Čini se da je oko 70 fakulteta diljem Europe blokirano isto. Weeeeeee

Namárië deserves a second post - Namárië zaslužuje drugi post

2009-11-21T15:19:54Z

Već sam pisao o Namárië. Ali nikad nisam čuo da je netko pjevao o njoj.

I already wrote about Namárië. But I never heard somebody singing about it.

Vikarijski - Vicariously

2009-11-16T23:01:36Z

Mračna soba. Čovjek sa maskom na licu i pištoljem u ruci. Nečiji sin, brat, otac, susjed, prijatelj, muž, sugrađanin, suradnik, zaposlenik. Jedan reflektor uperen na drugog čovjeka u prostoriji.

Kleči pred onim sa maskom. Pištolj mu je prislonjen na čelo. Izraz straha mu je okamenio lice. Pucanj. Metak uz prasak i paljenje kože probija kožu i lubanju. Mrska kost i prolazi u mekani zagrljaj mozga. Taj maleni željezni oblutak, ništavan, bora put kroz mekoću. Kroz spletovlje aksona i dendrita, kroz njihove mreže i zavoje, križanja i stranputice. Njihove grane i ogranke pali sila metka, pucaju poput tankih niti i ostaju visiti bespomoćno. Mreže njihovih putova, milijunima puta povezani i prespojeni kroz desetljeća života, sada nestaju u sekundi vrućine i sile. Neuroni i glije prskaju poput balona od sapunice, njihove unutrašnjost raznesena zajedno sa svilenim nitima uma. Kroz taj palež, taj kratak put dug par centimetara, nestaje jedna duša. Njegova sjećanja i misli, snovi i nadanja, žalosti i sreća, strasti i strahovi, tajne i laži, istine i časti, morali i filozofije, zaključci i razmišljanja. Milijuni veza nasilno prekinutih da bi nestala jedna osoba.

Ova slika, ta sekunda smrti je snimana. Dok se rupa uništena mozga puni krvlju, čovjek pada na tlo u zadnjem grču života dok ga napušta sve što on jest. Slika brzinom kompjuterske misli dolazi u tehnološki omogućenu abominaciju kolektivnog nesvjesnog i kola među svima nama. Youtube ju donosi u kratkih par sekundi divlje smrti. Photobucket niz slika, koje pokazuju svaki pokret i svaki od kratkih momenata nestajanja jednog čovjeka. Twitter i Facebook šalju dalje, u moru linkova i veza. Snopovlje veza i ogranak Interneta i naših medija upinju i kolaju ovim prizorom dok svi nismo iskusili isto - smrt.

I tako iz dana u dan. Opet. I opet. I opet.

Poginula tijela smrskanih putnika u nesreći vlaka. Dvije djevojčice koje su zajedno skočile sa zvonika u smrt, njihova tijela na pločniku. Mrtva žena pod željezom uništenog automobila. Tijela. To bijelo, naduto meso koje više nije čovjek nas zove da ga progutamo očima, da uzdahnemo nad njim. Na svakoj strani, u svakom pogledu. Na naslovnicama novina. Portala. Vijesti. Spiker govori o mrtvima sa korporativnim smiješkom i uglađenom kravatom pod grkljanom. Mi ga trebamo. Kolektiv ljudi živi i diše nad svakom dušom koja izdahne i uđe u aksone i dendrite medija, da se širi dalje poput virusa koja nas zove k sebi. Da ga gledamo, prikriveno.

Vikarijski.

A dark room. A man with a mask on his face, holding a gun. Someone's son, brother, father, neighbor, friend, husband, fellow-citizen, coworker, employee. Only one reflector lamp directed at the other man in the room.

He kneels before the one with the gun. The gun is on his forehead. The expression of fear turned his face to stone. A shot fired. With a bang and skin scorching the bullet pierces skin and skull. It shreds the bone and enters the soft embrace of the brain. This little iron pebble, nothingness, digs its way through the softness. Through the plexus of axons and dendrites, through their nets and curves, crossings and sidelines. Their branches and offshots are scorched by the bullet's force, they break like thin threads and remain hanging helplessly. The networks of their ways, a million times connected and interconnected through decades of life, now vanish in a second of heath and force. Neurons and glias burst like soap bubbles, their insides blown up with the silken threads of the mind. Through that wreckage, that short way of only a few centimeters, a soul disappears. His memories and thoughts, dreams and hopes, sadness and happiness, passions and fears, secrets and lies, truths and honors, morals and philosophies, conclusions and contemplations. Million of connections violently broken to erase a person.

This image, that second of death was taped. While the destroyed brain’s hole is filled by blood, the man falls to the ground in the last spasm of life as everything that he is is leaving. The image travels with speed of computer thought to the technologically sustained abomination of the collective unconscious and spreads in between us. Youtube brings it in a short flick of death. Photobucket as a series of pictures, which show every move and every short moment of a human being's disappearance. Twitter and Facebook send it farther away, in the sea of links and connections. The plexus of connections that is the Internet and our media strive and disseminate this image until all of us experienced it - death.

That happens today and tomorrow. And again. And again. And again.

The crushed dead bodies of the passengers in a train wreck. Two little girls who jumped from a bell tower into their death, their bodies on the sidewalk. A dead woman under the destroyed metal of an automobile. Bodies. That white, bloated flesh that is not human anymore is calling us to swallow it with our eyes, for us to sigh for them. Everywhere, in every view. In newspaper headlines. Portals. News. The speaker speaks of the dead with a corporate smile and a smart tie under his chin. We need it. The people's collective which lives and breaths over every soul that breaths out and enters the axons and dendrites of our media, to spread around like viruses which call to us. To watch it, hiddenly.

Vicariously.

Music by bakho

2009-11-10T01:13:50Z

Some French music for you to enjoy. Amadou et Mariam are a Mali duo (and a couple) of blind singers who make really special music combining Mali rhythms with all kinds of awesome. The song is called Sénégal fast food. I love Amadou et Mariam - they sing in French, have a cute accent and have the distinct African rhythm to their songs - and best of all, they prove anything is possible if we put our mind to it! Enjoy!

PS
If you notice when he says Manhattan in the song, a cookie for you! I laughed my ass off when I read in the lyrics that what he said was in fact Manhattan!

***

Nešto francuske muzike da uživate. Amadou et Mariam su duo (i par) slijepih pjevača s Malija koji stvaraju zaista posebnu glazbu kombinirajući ritmove Malija sa svakakvim cool stvarima. Pjesma se zove Sénégal fast food. Obožavam Amadoua et Mariam - pjevaju na francuskom, imaju sladak naglasak i jasan afrički ritam u pjesmama - i najvažnije od svega, dokazuju da je sve moguće ako se potrudimo. Uživajte!

PS
Ako primijetite kada kaže Manhattan u pjesmi, kolačić za vas! Umro sam od smijeha kad sam pročitao u lyricsima da to što kaže je u biti Manhattan!

Last.fm

2009-10-30T22:24:36Z

Mrzim Facebook. Da, to se pretvorilo od običnog intelektualnog snobizma u pravu iracionalnu, jaku, žarku, strastvenu - mržnju. Twitter mi se ne sviđa. Nekako je beskoristan. Tu i tamo volim pročitati Nerove tweetove ali to je to. Social networking za sad - potpuni failure po meni. Da, razumijem da ovo nije nužno najbolje objašnjenje i nuđenje argumentacije zašto ali:

jednostavno ne volim Facebook.

Ali volim last.fm. Sad, nema baš mnogo sličnosti između ova dva servisa, iako u drugu ruku ima. Last.fm je tvoje malo mjesto na Internetu za slušanje muzike. Bilježi (scrobbla) sve što slušaš, to razvrstava prema izvođaču, albumu, žanru i vremenu slušanja. Nudi ti statistiku koliko što slušaš i da ju uspoređuješ s drugim korisnicima last.fma. S druge strane, daje ti informacije o izvođačima i pjesmama koje bi inače tražio na drugim mjestima (a ovako samo otvoriš last.fm scrobbler i ne moraš pretraživati Google i Wikipediju).

Još jedna važna stvar kod last.fma - daje ti preporuke. Prema tome što slušaš, uspoređuje slične izvođače i predlaže ti ih. Stvara 'susjedstvo' korisnika koji slušaju sličnu glazbu, te tako na vrlo jednostavan način možeš pronaći nešto što bi ti se moglo svidjeti a nikada nisi čuo za tu glazbu.

Uglavnom - last.fm - čista petica!

***

I hate Facebook. Yes, it kinda changed from your common intellectual snobbism into real irational strong fiery passionate - hate. Twitter I don't like. It's somewhat useless. Now and then I like to read Ner's tweets but that's it. Social networking for now - total failure. Yes, I understand that this probable isn't the best explanation or argumentation as to why but:

I just hate Facebook.

But I like last.fm. Now, there's not that much similarities between those two, but on the other hand, there is. Last.fm is your little place on the Internet for listening to music. It records (scrobbles) everything you listen to, compiles it by artist, album, genre or time of listening. It gives you statistics how much you listen to something and you can compare it with other users of last. fm. On the other hand, it gives you info about the artists and songs which you'd usually try to find in other places (and this way you simply open the last.fm scrobbler and what you need, no need to scour Google or Wikipedia for it).

One more important thing about last.fm - it gives you recommendations. According to what you listen to, it compares it with similar artists and suggests them to you. It creates a neighborhood of users who listen to similar music, and that way you can easily find music you might like but you've never heard of.

All in all - a straight A for last.fm!

When you're happy - Kad si sretan

2009-10-28T23:04:57Z

Sutra mi je rođendan. Bolje rečeno, kad završim s pisanjem ovog posta, već će mi biti rođendan. Venus mi je već dala poklon. Kao i uvijek, poklonila mi je baš ono što sam si želio najviše. Ona ima taj dar, da uvijek sluša potiho kad nešto govoriš, i kao da zapisuje kad su ti se oči zažarile za nečim ili kada si rekao da ti se sviđa - to stavlja na svoj popis poklona, u toj plavoj maloj glavi, i onda to dobiješ kao poklon onda kad se najmanje nadaš.

Dobio sam zbirku pjesama Vidrića i Šimića. Baš sam ih prije tjedan dva gledao u knjižari, dok je ona lutala među rječnicima. Ali je zapamtila što sam gledao, iako sam ja mislio da uopće nije obratila pozornost na mene.

I dobio sam najbolje slušalice na svijetu! Htio sam velike slušalice jer me one malene smetaju, bole me uši od njih.

I tako, čitajući Šimića kojeg mi je ona poklonila, naletio sam na pjesmu koja govori o nama - pa bi ju htio pokloniti Njoj. Pjesma je životna, ne govori o cvijeću i sreći i idili. Govori o ljubavi. Život je život - sivilo koje je teško, i prepuno boli i teških trenutaka. Naravno i sretnih. Ali ono što ljubav čini ljubavlju - kad se skupe sve te boli koje te tjeraju na očaj i na osjećaj beznađa i samoće; možeš ih podijeliti sa nekim. Ja ih dijelim s tobom. Nadam se da sam i ja za tebe tu da ih ti dijeliš sa mnom.

Jedanput

Ženo
što iz bijede našeg svagdanjeg života
očajale i krotke oči dižeš k meni

Sav ovaj život...oh, sav ovaj život
ženo

jedanput ja odsvirat ću na harfi

i kad poslije harfe
progovore ćutke naše duše

znaš li što će govoriti?

Kako bjesmo srećni. Kako bjesmo srećni

Napisao Antun Branko Šimić.
Ton petit cretain, mišek. Amin mela lle.

***

Tomorrow is my birthday. Better said, when I finish writing this post, it'll be my birthday. Venus already gave me her present. As always, she gave me exactly what I wanted the most. She has this gift, to always silently listen what you say, and as if she writes down when your eyes glaze after something or when you say that you like something - she puts it on her list of presents, in that blond little head and then you get something from that list as a present when you've completely forgotten about it.

I got two collections of poems from her, one written by Vidrić and the other by Šimić. Just two weeks ago I was checking them up in a bookstore, while she wandered among the dictionaries. But she remembered what I was checking out, even though I thought she didn't even notice me.

And I got the best headphones in the world! I wanted big earphones because those tiny hones bother me, my ears hurt from them.

And so, while I was reading Šimić's collection (the one she gave me), I bump into a poem which talks about us - so I'd like to give it to Her. The poem is very down to earth, it doesn't concern flowers and happiness and the idyll. It concerns love. Life is life - grayness that is hard, and full of pain and hardships. Of course, happy moments too. But the thing which makes love what it is - when you gather all the pains which make you become desperate and feel hopeless and alone; you can share it with someone. I share them with you. I hope I'm there for you so you can share them with me.

Some day

Woman
from among such commonplace miseries
your desperately gentle eyes see me

All this life...oh, all this life
woman

some day I'll play us upon the harp

and after the harp
when our souls speak up

do you know what'll they say?

How happy we were. How happy we were

Written by Antun Branko Šimić. The translation was courtesy of Pthalo and Kate (and in some regard, me). Thanks!
Ton petit cerain, mišek. Amin mela lle.

Witty uni books - Smiješne knjige s faksa

2009-10-26T22:34:14Z

Danas sam posudio knjigu koja se zove Psihologija obrazovanja, za jedan seminar koji pišem. Izvrsna knjiga. Ima hrpu onih malih kućica sa zanimljivostima na rubu stranice; mnoge od njih su šale. Jedna od njih je (parafrazirano jer mi se ne traži sad ta stranica):

Marko je dobio dva iz ispita ali je profesor kraj ocjene napisao 'dobro i originalno'. Kada ga je išao pitati kako je dobio tako slabu ocjenu, a sam profesor mu je napisao da je ispit dobar i originalan, profesor je odgovorio: "Dio koji je dobar nije originalan, a dio koji je originalan nije dobar."

***

I borrowed a book called Psychology of education, for a seminar I'm writing. It's a great book. It has a bunch of those little sidebars at every page, with interesting stuff; among those, you can find jokes. One of them is (paraphrased because I don't feel like searching for the page):

Marko's exam was graded with a D, but the professor wrote 'good and original' right next to the grade. When Marko went to ask why did he get such a low grade, while the professor wrote that the exam was good and original, the professor replied: "The part that's good isn't original, while the original part isn't good."

:D

Adieu

2009-10-20T00:58:53Z

Someday, I might write a post about a lonely, ruined house that once stood in downtown Zagreb; where once Vidrić dwelt. Until then, adieu to the Zagreb he remembered in his own immortal words:

Adieu

Lightly against my back
A mandolin rocked
And my coat folded open.
Purple darkness
Covered my eyelids
From sun, wind and wine.

But it moved my hand
That composer of songs,
Vanquishing the light tear
Wept by my eye.
- So I walk down, my lady,
Down the stairs of your city.

The translation is mine, for you who cannot enjoy it in the original.

***

Jednom ću možda napisati post o jednoj usamljenoj, trošnoj kući koja se nekada nalazila u centru Zagreba; gdje je nekada Vidrić živio. Do onda, adieu Zagrebu kojeg je on pamtio u njegovim besmrtnim riječima:

Adieu

O moja je leđa lagano
Kucnula mandolina
I moj se je kaput raskrio.
Purpurna pomrčina
Moje je vjeđe prekrila
Od sunca, vjetra i vina.

A moja se ruka ganula
Koja pjesmice sklada,
Svijetlu je suzu utrla
Što mi sa zjena pada.
- Tako silazim, gospojo,
Stubama tvojega grada.

It gives you ulcers - politics! - Daje ti čireve - politika!

2009-10-18T22:56:59Z

As I've mentioned in one of my previous posts, our PM resigned. The whole nation was in shock and we're still not sure what exactly happened. He's just what you'd imagine of an ex-Yugoslavian country politician - charismatic, corrupted, a strong personality, dominant and very capable (note, not in leading a country to a prosperous future, but sucking it dry through semi-legal transactions while maintaining the guise of 'advance and development' for the EU officials). And he resigned.

Without an explanation. Well, at least without a credible explanation.

When you're an autocratic leader of a country like Croatia, you don't resign. You're at the top of the food chain. Your family is at the top of the food chain. It's literally like that, like some strange Darwinian experiment with humans. So, we're still waiting for an explanation, and I'm sure it'll be a good one once it spills out from the shady circles surrounding Ivo Sanader.

You might be wondering why I'm writing yet another post about a person which induces vomit resulting disgust in me?

Well, it seems like Ivo Sanader found a job. He's employed as some sort of a manager by Louise Blouin, a Canadian millionaire media magnate and philanthropist. Now that's all well and good, but why would a cookie cutter capitalist of the West plague her own company with this sly Homo Balcanicus Masculinum par excellence, who could cheat and force his way out of her millions (as he already did back home?)? Well, I wouldn't go into that.

The article (alas, it's only in Croatian) that provoked this post insinuates that she 'hopes to use his connections in European business, politics and art circles for the benefit of (Blouin's) business'. Now that sounds reasonable, but I've learned that this portal is not highly credible so I would refrain from final judgment on the matter.

So, why am I writing this?

I started watching the TV series Lie to Me with Venus. Tim Roth sold me on it, but the series is quite interesting. It depicts dr. Cal Lightman, who studies human expressions and patterns in behavior for detecting lies, and his colleagues who help various agencies or people (FBI, local police etc.) in solving all kinds of 'problems'. The series revolves around microexpressions - very short involuntary expressions which happen when people try to conceal emotions. What does that have to do with Ivo Sanader?

Let's return to this article I mentioned in the beginning. Specifically, the picture of the ex-PM, the infamous dr. Ivo Sanader. What does this microexpression say? I'd go for: "I'm a fucking thief and I robbed my country out of health benefits and funds for orphaned children." Yea, yea...I know. It's not a basic emotion - though I think with good old Ivo, it could be his second skin.

***

Kao što sam spomenuo u jednom od mojih prošlih postova, naš premijer je dao ostavku. Cijela nacija je bila u šoku i još uvijek nismo sigurni što se točno dogodilo. On je točno ono što bi zamislili kao političara iz države bivše Jugoslavije - karizmatičan, korumpiran, jaka ličnost, dominantan i jako sposoban (uzmite u obzir, ne u vođenju države prema dobroj budućnosti, već u pljačkanju preko polu legalnih kanala dok održava masku 'napretka i razvoja' prema dužnosnicima EU). I on je dao ostavku.

Bez objašnjenja. U biti, bez pravog objašnjenja.

Kada si autokratski vođa države kao što je Hrvatska, ti ne daješ ostavku. Ti si na vrhu hranidbenog lanca. Tvoja obitelj je na vrhu hranidbenog lanca. To je doslovno tako, kao neki neobični darvinovski eksperiment sa ljudima. Tako da mi još uglavnom čekamo objašnjenje i siguran sam da će biti dobro jednom kad procuri iz mračnih krugova koji okružuju Ivu Sanadera.

Možda se pitate zašto pišem još jedan post o osobi koja pobuđuje gađenje koje rezultira povraćanjem u meni?

Čini se da je Ivo Sanader našao posao. Zaposlila ga je kao neku vrstu menadžera Louise Blouin, kandska milijunašica, medijski magnat i filantrop. Sad, sve je to divno i krasno ali zašto bi tipični zapadni kapitalist prokleo vlastitu kompaniju sa prepredenim Homo Balcanicusom Masculinum par excellence, koji može prevariti i preuzeti milijune od nje (kao što već je doma?)? Ja u biti ne bih ulazio u to.

Članak (nažalost samo na hrvatskom) koji je isprovocirao ovaj post insinuira da se ona 'nada iskoristiti njegove veze u europskim poslovnim, političkim i umjetničkim krugovima u korist njena (Blouinine) biznisa'. To zvuči prilično razumno ali sam naučio da ovaj portal i nije uvijek najpouzdaniji, tako da ću se suzdržati zaključka o tome.

I, zašto ja zaista pišem ovo?

Počeo sam gledati TV seriju Laži mi sa Venus. Tim Roth mi ju je odmah prodao ali i serija je prilično zanimljiva. Prikazuje dr. Cal Lightmana, koji proučava ljudske izraze lica i uzorke ponašanja za detektiranje laži, i njegove kolege koji pomažu raznim agencijama ili osobama (FBI, lokalna policija itd.) u rješavanju raznih problema. Serija se temelji na mikroizrazima - jako kratkim nevoljnim izrazima koji se događaju kada ljudi pokušavaju prikriti emocije. Kakve uopće to veze ima sa Ivom Sanaderom?

Vratimo se članku koji sam spomenuo na početku. Preciznije, slici bivšeg premjera, neslavnog dr. Ive Sanadera. Što taj mikroizraz govori? Ja bih rekao: "Ja sam jebeni lopov koji je opljačkao vlastitu zemlju ostavivši je bez zdravstvenog osiguranja i sredstava za napuštenu djecu." Da, da...znam. Nije osnovna emocija - no mislim da možda ipak sa dobrim starim Ivom, mogla bi biti njegova druga koža.

You live, you learn - Živiš, učiš

2009-09-30T22:33:15Z

I'm rereading Tolkien, and the old chap taught me a new word: flabbergasted.

From The Lord of the Rings, p. 30:

He stepped down and vanished. There was a blinding flash of light, and the guests all blinked. When they opened their eyes Bilbo was nowhere to be seen. One hundred and forty-four flabbergasted hobbits sat back speechless.

Flabbergasted (as by Answers.com): To cause to be overcome with astonishment; astound.

Well, now he almost taught me more than four years of high school English. A couple more words, and you'll be there Tolkien!

***

Ponovno čitam Tolkiena, i dobri stari momak me naučio novu riječ: flabbergasted (zaprepašten).

Iz Gospodara prstenova - Prstenova družina, str. 42:

On siđe sa stolice i nestane, Iznenada je nešto sijevnulo i svi su gosti zažmirili. Kad su otvorili oči, Bilba više nije bilo. Stotinu četrdeset četiri zaprepaštena hobita sjedila su bez riječi zavaljena na stolice.

Flabbergasted (zaprepašten) (prema Answers.com): Biti obuzet čuđenjem, zapanjen.

Pa, sad me skoro naučio više nego četiri godine srednjoškolskog engleskog. Još par riječi i uspjet ćeš u tome Tolkien!

Bonsoir! Good evening! Dobra večer!

2009-09-28T22:25:35Z

Salut, my readers!

I had my first French lesson today (obviously). It wasn't anything fancy, we did the usual introductions, the alphabet, how to say hello and goodbye and all that jazz. So, my impressions:

The professor: A young woman (probably not much older than me, in her late twenties), with a sunny disposition all French teachers seem to have. She can say super and give you the thumbs up a thousand times in one lecture, which is really encouraging when you're feeling like an idiot because you can't say au revoir. She mentioned Verlaine and Rimbaud in the first lesson, so I immediately fell in love with her style (I shan't reveal to the class that I love French poetry until I know them a tad bit better).

The class: Nothing has changed in my life, because I am the sole guy among ten women. Not that I mind (after all, at uni, there's five of us and sixty or more women and I went to a high school with a female majority too) and I seem to get along much better with any kind of woman than most guys (if they're not interested in geekery like poetry, SF, philosophy etc. we don't have much in common...and men tend to chit chat about things I'm not interested in and expect me to relate, which I can but it demands a substantial amount of energy to sustain a conversation).

I arrived half an hour before the class started, so I met two girls while waiting in front of the classroom. They seemed young, if not by real age then most assuredly by mental age (I don't want to sound like a snob, but when this is the first comment after the introductions are said: "Umm...you're a guy, why are you studying French", and a giggle...you get the picture). All in all, I was immediately labeled as gay or a freak. Not that I mind...just, that's so teenagey and expected. I retorted with the usual rhetoric for stereotypes: "What, men don't speak French?", which was answered with a giggle. When I explained that my girlfriend is majoring French and that I'm hoping to learn enough to start talking to her and pick up more and more as we go, they made an 'ahhh' sound, and all of the sudden, me [a guy] studying French was completely fine.

I didn't really get the chance to make real first impressions of the others...they're all around my age and seem like nice girls, but that's about it. Two of them said good night when we bumped into each other on the street, which was nice. Well...that's about it, regarding the people I met there.

Regarding French - I'm in loooooooooove! But we'll see after a couple of lectures. Those 'r's are already giving me a headache...

Au revoir! (that's impossible to pronounce!!!)

***

Salut, moji čitaoci!

Danas sam imao prvi sat francuskog (očito). Nije bilo ništa fensi, uobičajeno predstavljanje, abeceda, kako reći bok i doviđenja i sve slične stvari. Dakle, prvi dojmovi:

Profesorica: Mlada žena (vjerojatno ne puno starija od mene, u kasnim dvadesetima) sa veselim raspoloženjem koje svi profesori francuskog naizgled imaju. Može reći super i pokazati ti podignute palce tisuću puta u jednoj lekciji, što stvarno ohrabruje kad se osjećaš kao idiot zato što ne možeš izgovoriti au revoir. Spomenula je Verlainea i Rimbauda odmah na početku, pa sam se odmah zaljubio u njen stil (neću otkriti grupi da volim francusku poeziju dok ih ne upoznam malo bolje.

Grupa: Ništa se nije promijenilo u mom životu, jer sam jedini momak među deset žena. Ne da mi smeta (ipak nas na faksu ima pet a šezdesetak žena i s druge strane sam išao u srednju školu sa većinom djevojaka) i čini se da se tako i tako bolje slažem s bilo kakvom ženom nego s većinom muškaraca (ako ih ne zanima nekakav geekery kao poezija, SF, filozofija itd. nemamo baš puno toga zajedničkog...a dečki ćaskaju o stvarima koje mene uopće ne zanimaju i očekuju da se povežemo, što mogu ali zahtjeva dosta energije da održim razgovor).

Stigao sam pola sata prije nego što je sat počeo, pa sam upoznao dvije djevojke dok sam čekao pred učionicom. Činile su mi se mlado, ako ne prema stvarnoj dobi onda prema mentalnoj dobi u svakom slučaju (nije da želim zvučati kao snob, ali kada je prvi komentar nakon upoznavanja: "Umm...ti si dečko, zašto učiš francuski?" i smijuljenje...uglavnom, jasno vam je). Sve u svemu, odmah sam bio označen kao gej ili frik. Ne da mi smeta samo je to tako tinejdžerski i očekivano. Odgovorio sam sa uobičajenom retorikom za stereotipe: "Znači dečki ne govore francuski?" na što sam dobio još smijuljenja. Kad sam objasnio da mi cura studira francuski i da se nadam da ću naučiti dovoljno da mogu početi razgovarati s njom i učiti na taj način proizvele su 'ahhhaaa' zvuk i od jednom je bilo potpuno normalno da ja [dečko] učim francuski.

Nisam imao baš priliku za steknem prvi dojam od ostalih...svi su približno moje dobi i čine se kao simpa cure, ali to je to. Dvije su me pozdravile kad smo se sreli na ulici, što je bilo lijepo. Pa, to je u biti to, što se tiče ljudi koje sam upoznao.

Što se tiče francuskog - zaljubljeeeeeeeeeeeen sam! Ali vidjet ćemo nakon još par predavanja. Slovo r mi već zadaje glavobolju...

Au revoir! (to je nemoguće izgovoriti!!!)

Laconica brevitas

2009-09-22T01:00:43Z

Zadnji. Ispit. Napokon. Gotovo.

Sljedeći. Semestar. Uskoro. o.O

***

The last. Exam. Finally. Done.

Next. Term. Soon. o.O

Devet - Nine

2009-09-05T16:21:41Z

Predivan dio pjesme Labud Djevojka Maka Dizdara. Zanimljivo, da djevojka predstavlja subjekt a ne objekt pjesme (ona otključava, otvara, otklapa, otpečaćuje)...

Labud Djevojka

...
Otključah devet dveri
Otvorih devet odaja
Otklopih devet kovčega
Otpečatih devet pečata

Ali ne otključah
Ne otvorih
Ne otklopih
Ne otpečatih

Pečat
Tvoga
Srca

Mak Dizdar

***

A part of the beautiful poem called the Swan Lass by Mak Dizdar. The interesting thing is that the lass is the subject and not the object of the poem (she unlocks, opens, uncoveres, unseals)...

Swan Lass

I unlocked nine gates
I opened nine chambers
I uncovered nine chests
I unsealed nine seals

But I did not unlock
Did not open
Did not uncover
Did not unseal

The seal
Of your
Heart

Mak Dizdar
(the crude translation by me)

II

2009-08-27T21:40:28Z

II

Što kad srce osjeti
a um ne može smisliti?
Kad nema više riječi,
kako govoriti?
Kad srce zine, vrišti - a usta šute.
Kad nema više riječi.
Tišina.

Kad osjećaji progone
a ne možeš oblikovati jedino oslobođenje
od njih?
Kad je pjesma
tlapnja,
bez riječi.
Bez smisla.
Bez naslova.
Tišina.

***

II

When the heart feels
what the mind cannot?
When there are no words,
how can lips speak?
When our center gapes, screams
from a silent mouth.
When there are no words.
Silence.

When the feelings haunt
and will not shape redemption.
When the poem
obscures meaning,
resists any title.
Silence.

The translation is courtesy of Evilkate. Thanks Katie!

Književnost, ili smrt iste pod svijetlom neona i postmodernog dreka

2009-08-21T21:36:35Z

Još jedna rasprava koju sam imao s dragom na moru me potakla na razmišljanje. Naime, za kojeg pisca danas možete reći da je zaista klasik (ograničit ću se na hrvatsku književnost sad)? Naravno, proces afirmacije knjige i književnika kao klasika zahtjeva određeno vrijeme - i uvijek treba uzeti u obzir da možda čovjek ne može reći zaista za svog suvremenika da je 'klasik'. To će povijest prosuditi. No, ono što boli u tome svemu je danas eksponirana, McDonalds književnost. Romani pisani da se koriste kao toaletni papir, u intelektualnom a možda i praktičnom smislu. Usred svog tog književnog dreka, da li ćemo ikad više moći vidjeti ili stvoriti pravu književnost?

Opet sam pod utjecajem Zerzana, naravno. Naime, taj, po mojoj procjeni, ogorčeni anarhoprimitivist prezire postmodernizam; i sve njegove ispljuvke - bilo to literarne ili u drugim vidovima umjetnosti. On umjetnost prezire i prije postmodernizma - u redu, možda je prezir presnažna riječ; ali ju vidi više kao Platon (sjena sjene prave Istine) nego kao neki mondeni intelektualac opčinjen tim vidom civilizacijske tekovine - no sve nakon postmodernizma Zerzan prikazuje kao zadnjim trzajima i ne tako spektakularnom smrću Umjetnosti; ili umjetnosti, kako god vam paše. Zerzanove riječi:

"U izmorenome, malaksalom vremenu u kojem govoriti znači ne reći ništa, umjetnost je svakako ništavna. Prije nešto više od stotinu godina, Baudelaire je pokušao obraniti časnu ulogu pjesnika u društvu lišenom časti. Stanje o kojem je govorio pjesnik, danas je i više nego očito, dok su utješnost kao i sam položaj bezvremene umjetnosti razotkriveni u punoći vlastite ništavnosti." Anarhoprimitivizam protiv civilizacije, John Zerzan, str. 68.

Prema Zerzanu, umjetnost predstavlja bijeg 'civiliziranog čovjeka' iz civilizacijskog distopijskog užasa:

"Budući da je naš odnos prema prirodi i životu manjkav i lišen vlastite izvornosti, umjetnost služi samo kao nadomjestak i svojevrsno olakšanje." Anarhoprimitivizam protiv civilizacije, John Zerzan, str. 63.

Nekad, prije, kada civilizacija nije bila toliko difuzna i isprepletena, taj bijeg je poprimao dobro poznate i cijenjene - ne od strane Zerzana, naravno - oblike (francuski, ruski realizam, larpurlartizam, ekspresionizam, romantizam...), no danas; u današnjem društvu novca, brzine, povezanosti, slobodnog toka informacija (slobodnog, pih!) - umjetnost poprima oblik postmodernističke abominacije - na početku dekonstrukcije značenja i smrti smisla, a danas masovne produkcije 'estetike'. Ukratko - dreka koji nam se servira danas.

Ova svojevrsna analiza je moj dodatak, unutar Zerzanovih okvira, i ne nužno nešto s čim bi se autor složio. No, čini mi se da unutar modela i uloge civilizacije koji je Zerzan predložio, gdje umjetnost u neku ruku predstavlja sponu između onog otuđenog civilizacijom i onog prirodnog; današnja 'umjetnost', u slučaju ove rasprave, književnost je jasan rezultat civilizacijskog otuđenja. Danas nas civilizacija na toliko načina udaljava od nas samih, na tako divljački i nesuptilan način, bez krinki i bez takta - da je i umjetnost postala takva. Divlja. Nesuptilna. Bez takta. Smeće.

Prije godinu dana, vozio sam se ujutro u tramvaju na posao. Bilo je nešto poslije pola šest ujutro. Nova sedamnaestica, sjedim i pokušavam zadržati oči otvorene. Preko puta mene sjedi podeblja žena, krivih zubi i masne kose; onako, arhetipna 'radnica' koja ide u pola šest na posao. I čita 'Golu istinu' Nives Celzijus. Naime, za strance (i Hrvate koji nisu čuli tu medijsku buku prošle godine), Nives Celzijus Drpić je naša poznata Victoria Beckham, žena poznatog hrvatskog nogometaša - i od nedavno autorica bestseler romana (bestseler, prije par godina nisam ni shvatio implikaciju te riječi, već sam mislio da ona automatski znači dobar roman; onda mi je palo na pamet da to prevedem s engleskom. Nije najbolji. Samo najviše novaca donosi) - i tako čita ta naizgled jednostavna ženica 'Golu istinu', ispunjenu Nivesinim avanturističkim životom - orgijama sa nogometnim momčadima, seksualnim zlostavljanjem koje je trpila pod rukama svog oca; ukratko, sav šljam i sve žuto pretočeno u roman, jeftina pornografija za um. Zainteresiran pogled, oči lete s retka na novi red unatoč ranom satu.

Na to upada neki odrpani, postariji čovjek unutra. Iskreno, ne sjećam se kako je izgledao. Samo znam da je bio odrpan. Znam da je imao prosijedu kosu. I uglavnom, započinje on svoj govor. Ljudi okreću glave od luđaka napornog, uzdišu proklinjući i misleći zašto su morali baš u taj tramvaj danas ujutro ući. Čovjek govori o današnjem trulom društvu, o smrti morala, o nečudoređu Crkve (naravno!), na momente citira Nietzschea, Kanta, velika imena i velike riječi...a moja heroina preko puta požudno guta riječi Nives Celzijus. Drpa Drpićku (ili Dr. Pičku?) s papira. I tako - došlo je vrijeme kada luđaci čitaju Nietzschea i Kanta, a normalni ljudi opuštaju svoj um uz golu istinu. Ili je to vrijeme uvijek bilo tu, samo to ne izgleda tako kroz povećalo povijest, gdje su sve Nives Celzijus, Dan Brownovi, Modni Mačci nestali u sjeni imena koja je književnost i civilizacija zapamtila? Samo se nadam da nam današnju umjetnost neće Drpiti sjaj neona i zasranih fontana...ovaj, školjki.

***

Literature, or the death of it under the dazzle of neon and postmodern crap

(sorry, I couldn't fit the English heading next to the Croatian one, it was too long)

One more discussion I had with my love while on vacation got me thinking. To pose a question, for which writer today you can say that he's truly a classic (I'll limit myself to Croatian literature for now)? Of course, the process of affirmation of a book and its writer as a classic demands a certain amount of time - and we should take under consideration the fact that a person can't really say for his contemporary that he's a 'classic'. History will make that judgment. But, the thing that hurts in all of that is today's famous, McDonald's literature. Novels written to be used as toilet paper, in an intellectual and maybe even in the practical sense. Amidst all that literary crap, will we ever again be able to see or create real literature?

I'm again, of course, under the influence of Zerzan. In explanation, that, by my opinion, bitter anarcho-primitivist despises postmodernism, and all its spittle - be it literary or in other mediums of art. He despises art even before postmodernism - OK, maybe despise is too strong of a word, but he sees it more like Plato (the shadow of the shadow of Truth) than like a modern intellectual bewitched by this achievement of civilization - but everything after postmodernism Zerzan presents as the last twitch in the not so spectacular death of Art, or art, however you like it. Zerzan says:

"In the exhausted, feeble times in which to talk means to say nothing, art is most assuredly nothingness. A bit more than a hundred years ago, Baudelaire tried to defend the honorable role of a poet in a society devoid of honor. The state of which the poet spoke is more than evident today, while the consolation as is the position of a timeless art uncovered in the fullness of its nothingness." Against Civilization: Readings and Reflections, John Zerzan, p. 68 of the Croatian translation of his work; translated from Croatian back to English by me

According to Zerzan, art represents an escape of the 'civilized man' from dystopic horror of civilization:

"Since our relationship with nature and life is defective and robbed of its authenticity, art serves only as a substitute and a form of relief." Against Civilization: Readings and Reflections, John Zerzan, p. 63 of the Croatian translation of his work; translated from Croatian back to English by me

Once, before, when the civilization wasn't so diffused and intertwined, that escape took the well known and valued - not by Zerzan, for sure - forms (French, Russian realism, larpurlartism, expressionism, romanticism...) but today, in today's society of money, speed, connections, free flow of information (free, yea right!) - art takes the shape of a post modern abomination - in the beginning the deconstruction of significance and death of meaning, and today the mass production of 'estheticisim'. In short - the crap that is being served today.

This analysis of some sort is my addendum, inside the ideas proposed by Zerzan, and not necessarily something with which the author would agree. But, it seems to me that within the model and role of civilization proposed by Zerzan, where art in a way represents a connection between that what was alienated by civilization and that what is natural; today's 'art', in case of this discussion, literature is a clear result of alienation by civilization. Today the society alienates us from ourselves in so many ways, in such a bewildered and unsubtle way, tactlessly and without masks - that the art transformed into that. Something wild. Unsubtle. Tactless. Trash.

A year ago, I was sitting in a tram while going to work in the morning. It was somewhere between half past five and six in the morning. The new seventeen (our trams are numbered, and the one going from my neighborhood to the city center is seventeen), I'm sitting and trying to keep my eyes open. Across from my seat sits a fatty woman, with uneven teeth and oily hair, archetypal 'worker' who goes to work at half past five in the morning. And she's reading 'The Naked Truth' by Nives Celsius. To explain, for foreigners (and Croatians who managed to miss the media ruckus around it last year), Nives Celsius Drpić is our famous Victoria Beckham, the wife of a well known Croatian football player - and the fresh author of a bestselling novel (bestseller, a couple of years ago I didn't consider the implications of that word, but took its meaning automatically as a good novel; then it occurred to me to translate it from English to Croatian. It's not a good novel. It's the one that earns the most money) - and so that seemingly simple woman reads 'The Naked Truth', filled with Nives' adventurous life; orgies with football teams, sexual harrasment by her father, in short, all the scum and all that is yellow formed into a novel, cheap pornography for the mind. An interested look in her eyes, them flying from line to line despite the early hour.

All of the sudden a rugged, older man enters the tram. To tell you the truth, I don't remember how he looked. I remember he looked dirty. And that he had quite the number of grays in his hair. And so, he starts his speech. People turn their faces away from the draining lunatic, heave while cursing and thinking why did they have to get onto this tram right in the morning. The man talks about today's rotten society, about the death of morals, about the filths of the Church (of course!), at moments cites Nietzsche, Kant, big names and big words...and my heroine sitting across from me passionately swallows the words of Nives Celsius. Steals Miss Drpić (or Dr. Cunt) from the paper*. And so - a time has arrived when lunatics read Nietzsche or Kant, and normal people relax their mind with naked truth. Or was that time always here, but it doesn't seem like that through the lens of history, where the Nives Celsiuses, Dan Browns, Fashion Cats** disappeared in the shadow of names which literature and civilization remembered? I only hope that today's art won't be Stolen*** the dazzle of neon and shitted fountains...I mean, urinals.

PS
I apologize for not being able to find Zerzan's English texts and translating them back to English from Croatian, for I must assuredly didn't do a favor to his text or thoughts!

*Nives Celsius took the surname of her husband, Drpić, when they married. Drpati, in Croatian, can mean to steal or to touch someone against their wish in a sexual way; so that whole sentence is a play of words which can't be translated; also, Dr. Cunt comes from the accusative form of her surname, Drpićku. If you seperate the Dr from pićku, you get Dr. Pička which in Croatian means Dr. Cunt

**Fashion Cat is another local celebrity, ahem, who published his 'novel'

***won't be Stolen or in Croatian 'neće Drpiti', another allusion to the famous Croatian award winning novelist, Nives Celsius Drpić

Marko Porcije Katon Stariji - Marco Porcius Cato Maior

2009-08-19T11:03:51Z

U srednjoj školi smo u prvom i drugom razredu imali latinski. Osim učenja gramatike, drugi dio predmeta je bio učenje poslovica. Moja omiljena poslovica je bila:

"Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam."

Marko Porcije Katon Stariji

Kako je škola, dosta često, bila stravično dosadna; ja sam se zabavljao ispisivanjem ove poslovice. Ispisao sam ju na barem deset, petnaest papira, iz reda u red: Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam. Čemu takva fascinacija s toliko neposlovičnom poslovicom? U prijevodu, poslovica znači (otprilike): "Uostalom, mislim da Kartagu treba razoriti." Katon je to toliko želio, da je ovo ponavljao na svakom zasjedanju rimskog senata; na kraju svakog svog govora; nevažno o čemu je govorio. Sad, to možda nije toliko zanimljivo - ali mene je uvijek fasciniralo koliko je zagrižen taj čovjek morao biti, koliko zaluđen i usmjeren da to ponavlja iz dana u dan - sve dok se nije ostvarilo. Osim te konjske usmjerenosti, nekako sam uvijek nalazio dozu komičnosti u tom svemu.

Moja stara slika na LJu (ona bista starijeg čovjeka) je bio Marko Porcije Katon Stariji. Ne baš čovjek kojeg bi očekivali da mu se ja 'divim'? Pa, nisam mu se divio. Samo je bio beskrajno fascinantan. Nekako je ta fizionimija, svaka crta na njegovom licu govorila: "Ja ću, ako treba, i zauvijek ponavljati ono što želim; dok se to ne ostvari. Jer sam zagriženi stari prdež." Sad ga je zamijenio Smiley Face iz Fallouta.

Bok Katone!

***

In the first and second grade of high school we had Latin. Besides studying grammar, the other part of the class was studying proverbs. My favorite proverb was:

"Ceterum cesneo Carthaginem esse delendam."

Marcus Porcius Cato Maior

With school being, quite often, dreadfully boring; I would entertain myself with writing down this proverb. I wrote it on at least ten, fifteen papers, from line to line: Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam. How to explain such a fascination with such unproverbial proverb? In translation, it means (roughly): "Furthermore, I think Carthage must be destroyed." Cato wanted it so badly , that he would repeat this on each session of the Roman Senate; at the end of each of his speeches, whatever he might've been talking about. Now, maybe that isn't that interesting - but I was always fascinated how inveterate that man must've been, how crazed and directed to repeat that day by day - until it happened. Besides that ox determination, I somehow always found a dose of humor in all of that.

My old avatar at LJ (that bust of an older man) was Marcus Porcius Cato Maior. Not exactly a man you'd think I'd 'admire'? Well, I didn't admire him. I was just unbelievably fascinated by him. Somehow that physiognomy, each wrinkle on his face said: "I will, if need be, repeat to eternity that what I want, until it happens. Because I'm an inveterate old fart." Now he was replaced by the Smiley Face from Fallout.

Bye Cato!

Ili, ili - This or that

2009-08-17T01:49:06Z

Na moru smo sjedili na plaži u šumici, jeli ćevape i razgovarali. Počeli smo igrati igru 'ili ili'. Jedna osoba postavi dva pojma drugoj osobi, koja mora izabrati jedan od njih i objasniti zašto je baš taj odabrala. Kako to bude kada se stvari događaju poslije ponoći, sa jedne strane omeđeni malim šumarkom a s druge morem, i posebno uz ćevape; počinje se filozofirati.

Anja je postavila ovaj odabir pred mene: magija ili istina?

Sad, ne znam što je Anji dalo ideju da baš mene to pita, ali mogu probati pretpostaviti. Ja sam zanesenjak. Ljudi me ponekad ne razumiju kad govorim, opterećujem se sa stvarima s kojima se vjerojatno ne bi trebao opterećivati; mislim o stvarima o kojima se baš i ne misli često. Živim, ponekad, u svom svijetu. Pa možda se nekom čini, s druge strane, da sam opsjednut bijegom iz našeg svijeta stvarnosti. Opsjednut magijom.

Začudo, odgovorio sam bez razmišljanja - istina.

Objašnjenje?

Istina je magija, ali magija nije istina. Rijetko kad se dogodi da mogu pretočiti svoje misli u tako nešto jednostavno. Sviđa mi se...a svidjelo se i njima, jer je bar izazvalo salvu smijeha, te noći u šumici, na plaži pod zvijezdama.

***

At the coast we were sitting on a beach in a copse, eating ćevapi and talking. We started playing the game 'this or that'. One person proposes two terms to another person, who has to choose one of them and explain the choice. How things go when this happens after midnight, from one side cornered by a groove of trees and from the other by the sea, and especially with ćevapi; people start to muse philosophically.

Anja proposed this choice to me: magic or truth?

Now, I don't know what gave Anja the idea to ask me precisely that question, but I can try and presume. I'm a dreamer. People sometimes don't understand me when I talk, I trouble myself with stuff I probably shouldn't be troubling myself with; I think about stuff about which people don't think that often. I live, sometimes, in my own world. And maybe, to someone, it might seem like I'm obsessed with running from our world of reality. Obsessed with magic.

Surprisingly, I answered without second thought - the truth.

An explanation?

Truth is magical, but magic is not true. It rarely happens that I can stream my thoughts into something as simple as that. I liked it...and they liked it too, because it at least provoked a gale of laughter, that night in the copse, on the beach under the stars.

Trenutak jasnoće - The Moment of Clarity

2009-08-15T13:39:05Z

Čitam Idiota. Nisam znao da je Dostojevski patio od epilepsije. Moj kum ima neki neobičan vid epilepsije, ali ne pati od napadaja. Anjina sestra je dobila napadaj prije par godina (prošle godine?). Nekako, prije, epilepsija je izgledala prestrašno. Potpuno izgubiš kontrolu nad tijelom, padaš na pod, famozna pjena na ustima, nevoljno trzanje mišića, okretanje očima. Na neurobiologiji na fakultetu su rekli da je epilepsija u biti naglo okidanje neurona, prava paljba. To mi je kopkalo maštu. Neuroni, u svojoj normalnoj aktivnosti, se okidaju. Kada misliš, dišeš, hodaš, govoriš. Što ako je takvo masivno okidanje trenutak jasnoće, dodir s Bogom?

Ne znam. Nisam siguran što sam htio reći. Naišao sam na odlomak u knjizi Dostojevskog, pa barem znam da nije samo meni to zakopkalo maštu. Dapače, Dostojevski je to mogao doživjeti. Naime, njegov idiot, knez Miškin, pati od epilepsije. I Dostojevski opisuje taj trenutak jasnoće, prije napadaja:

"Mislio je, između ostalog, o tome kako u njegovoj padavici postoji jedna faza gotovo pred sam napad (kad bi ga spopao u budnom stanju), u kojem bi mu, usred čamotinje, duševne tmine, potištenosti, iznenada, na mahove mozak tako reći bljesnuo te bi mu se u žestokom naletu napregnule sve životne snage. U tim trenucima koji su trajali koliko i munja, gotovo bi mu se udeseterostručilo osjećanje života i svijesti. Um i srce obasjalo bi mu neobično svijetlo; sva uzbuđenja, sve sumnje, svi nemiri kao da se namah stišali, pretvorili u nekakav uzvišen mir pun vedre, skladne radosti i nade, pun razuma i poimanja bitnih uzroka. Ali ti časovi, ti blijesci bijahu tek nagovještaj one završne sekunde (nikad to nije trajalo dulje od sekunde) u kojoj je počinjao sam napad. Ta je sekunda, naravno, bila nepodnošljiva. Kad bi o tome razmišljao poslije, pri zdravoj pameti, često je govorio sam sebi kako sve te munje i blijesci uzvišenog osjećanja i svijest o samom sebi, pa dakle i "uzvišenog bitka", nisu ništa drugo doli bolest, doli poremećaj normalnog stanja, a ako je tako, onda to i nije nikakav uzvišeni bitak nego, naprotiv, treba ga ubrojiti u najniže postojanje. Ipak je na kraju došao do neobično paradoksalnog zaključka: "Pa što ako je bolest?" - zaključio je napokon. - "Nije li svejedno je li to abnormalna pojava ili nije, ako je sama posljedica, ako je časak osjećanja kojeg se sjećaš i koji razmatraš već pri zdravoj pameti, u najvećoj mjeri harmonija, ljepota, ako ti daje dotle nečuveno i neslućeno osjećanje punoće, mjere, smirenosti i zanosnog, molitvenog stapanja s najvišom životnom sintezom?" Idiot, str. 216-217.

***

I'm reading The Idiot. I didn't know that Dostoyevsky suffered from epilepsy. My godfather has some odd type of epilepsy, but he doesn't suffer from seizures. Anja's sister had a seizure a couple of years ago (was it last year?). Before, epilepsy seemed horrifying. You completely lose control over your body, fall to the floor, the infamous foam on the mouth, involuntary spasms of muscles, the eye rolling. At neurobiology in college they said that epilepsy is in fact a sudden firing of neurons, a really massive fire. That dug into my imagination. Neurons, in their normal neural activity, activate (or fire up, as we say in Croatian). When you think, breath, walk, talk. What if such a massive firing of neurons is a moment of clarity, a touch with God?

I don't know. I'm not sure what exactly I wanted to say. I ran into a paragraph in Dostoyevsky's book, so I at least know I'm not the only one whose fancy it struck in such a way. More so, Dostoyevsky might even lived through it. His idiot, count Myshkin, suffers from epilepsy. And Dostoyevsky describes that moment of clarity, before the seizure:

"He thought, among else, how in his falling sickness there's a phase just before the seizure (when he was awake), in which, amidst the longing, inner darkness, misery, all of the sudden his brain would so to say blaze and in a spirited surge all of his life strengths would tense up. In those moments that would last not longer than lightning, the feeling of life and consciousness would amplify for at least ten times. His mind and heart would be lightened by a strange light; all the excitements, all the doubts, all the turmoil seemingly got quieter, transformed into some kind of an exalted peace full of cheerfulness, graceful joy and hope, full of reason and understanding of important causes. But those moments, those flashes were just a messenger of that last second (never did it last longer than a second) in which the seizure began. That second was, most assuredly, unbearable. When he would think about that later on, with his wits gathered, he would often say to himself that all those thunderbolts and flashes of exalted sensation and self consciousness, and so the 'exalted being' too, are nothing else but the sickness, nothing else but the disturbance of the normal affair of things, and if that was so, then that was not an exalted being but, on the contrary, it must be seen as one of the lowest existences. None the less he reached a paradoxical conclusion in the end: "And what if it is the sickness?" - he concluded finally. - "Isn't it all the same if it is an abnormal occurrence or not, when its consequence, when the moment of feeling that you remember and which you consider with a sane mind, is in the biggest part harmony, beauty, if it gives you an unthinkable and unfathomable feeling of fullness, extent, calmness and vigorous, prayer like oneness with the highest life synthesis?" The Idiot, p. 216-217.

*Translation from Croatian by me

Flow - Tijek

2009-07-28T12:22:34Z

U okvirima motivacijskih teorija postoji jedan konstrukt koji je iznjedrila pozitivna psihologija kroz prijedlog Csiksentmihalyija - flow ili u grubom prijevodu 'tijek'. Flow je osjećaj neprekinutog tijeka, zanosa samom aktivnošću kojom se bavimo. Dirigent u tretutku vrhunca skladbe, skakač u vis u trenutku slamanja svijetskog rekorda, student arhitekture koji usred noći frenetično završava program, osnovnoškolac koji odgovora prenaučeni sadržaj - sve primjeri flowa, očaravajuće obuzetosti aktivnošću koja je svojevrstan vrhunac intrinzičnosti motivacije i vrhunske sposobnosti u danom trenutku. O flowu se još može puno reći, ali to je sasvim dovoljan uvod za ovaj citat.

Citat je izvađen iz Hesseovog djela Rosshalde; u kojoj pisac priča o životu jednog vrhunskog slikara. Međuostalim, jedna od tema ovog kratkog romana je Veraguthova (slikareva) opsjednutost u trenutku stvaranja, njegov bijeg iz stvarnosti i bezvremenosti onog što Csiksentmihalyi zove flow. Kako bolje prikazati flow nego kroz riječi Hessea, vrhunskog pisca, koji kroz svoj doživljaj opisuje izgled flowa kod literarnog slikara? Tko bolje da govori o flowu, nego vrhunski pisac o vrhunskom slikaru koji je izrastao iz njegova genija!

"Uskoro je slikar bio opet sav predan radu, prekid je već zaboravljen, vanjski svijet zameten. Oštro usredištena pogleda površinu je platna uspoređivao sa živom slikom u svojoj nutrini. Osjećao je glazbu svijetlosti, kako se njezina bujica zvuka račva i sastaje, kako se zamara preprekama, kako ponire i kako nepobjedivo opet trijumfira na svakoj prijemljivoj površini, kako se u izbirljivoj pa ipak nepogrešivoj hirovitosti igra u bojama najsitničavijom osjetljivošću, nerazoriva na tisuću lomova, s tisuću razigranih stranputica, neprijetvorno vjerna urođenom zakonu. Dubokim je udisajima kušao opori zrak umjetnosti, strogu radost tvorca koji sam sebe mora darivati do granica uništenja, koji svetu sreću slobode može očutjeti samo u željeznom sputavanju svake samovolje, a trenutak dovršenosti u asketskom posluhu prema osjećaju istinitosti." Herman Hesse, Rosshalde (str. 94)

***

In the amalgam of theories of motivation there is a construct originating in positive psychology through the ideas of Csiksentmihalyi - flow. Flow is a feeling of flux, elation with the very activity we're performing. A bandmaster in the peak of a composition, an athlete in the moment of breaking a world record, a student of architecture who frenetically tries to finish a design in the middle of the night, a first grader who writes an exam in something he overstudied - all examples of flow, an almost magical obsession with the activity which is the sum of intrinsic motivation and exceptional ability in the very moment. Much more can be said about flow, but this is quite enough as an introduction to the quote.

This quote was taken from Hesse's Rosshalde, in which the writer tells a story of an excellent painter. Among others, one of the themes of this novel is Veragauth's (the painter's) mania while creating his works of art, his escape from reality and what Csiksentmihalyi calls flow. How better to explain flow than through the words of Hesse, a great writer, who offers his own view of flow through the literally painter? No better person to talk about it than an exceptional painter grown from the genius of an exceptional writer!

"Soon the painter was again fully immersed in his work, the interruption already forgotten, the outside world ignored. With a sharply focused gaze he compared the surface of the canvas with the live painting in the depth of his being. He felt the music of light, how its flow of sound branched and crossed, how it tires on obstacles, how it dived and invincibly triumphed again on each receptive surface, how it played with color with meticioulous sensitivity in fastidious and yet impeccable capriciousness, indestructible in a thousand refractions, with thousands of playful obliquities, truthfully faithful to the natural law. With deep breaths he tasted the heavy air of art, the firm happiness of a creator who must gift himself to the limits of destruction, who can feel the sacred happiness of freedom only through the iron binding of self will, and the moment of completeness through the ascetic obedience to a feeling of truthfulness." Herman Hesse, Rosshalde (p. 94)

Translation from Croatian to English by me

On morality and sexuality - O moralnosti i seksualnosti

2009-07-19T16:32:19Z

The hypocrisy of our society, and us as people, is nowhere more evident than in our culture's views and taboos of sexuality. I'm not saying this from a position of uninvolved clinical observer, but as a person born, educated and indoctrinated into our values (our values meaning the values of modern, Western if you wish, society). I, as all of you, am a hypocrite; in a much more pervading way than exclusively in what I've been taught to be 'values' regarding sexuality. This isn't another of my rants/musing about sexuality, even if some might think otherwise. This is a rant about the state of our morals, or more specifically, what I see as a complete lack of morals, which have deteriorated and atrophied into something monstrously obnoxious, when related to what they should be. This can be argued otherwise: did they atrophy or in fact never were what we presented them to be? But, lets leave that for another time and place.

What, you might ask, of our morality regarding sexuality? Note, the heading of this post isn't 'the morality of sexuality' but 'morality and sexuality'. This isn't a typo, or a mistake made by a nonnative speaker of the tongue. Before I go deeper into my argument, or if I may say, my pain regarding the state of our society, I'd like to define the terms I use to avoid misunderstandings due to semantics or my tangled up style of writing. So, here's some definitions before we continue:

Morality - a system of ideas of right or wrong conduct.

Sexuality - the innate attributes of an individual, including sexual desires, roles and identities. (Sexuality can have a broader meaning, but other aspects of the term aren't in primary focus of this post; so I won't even mention them in the definition used here. Also, I am more focusing on identities and roles, which are under great influence of society as a defining factor; and thus perverted by our society. Take the word 'innate' with great care in this case - e.g. there is not much innatness about societal roles)

The argumentation of my standpoint is quite short, which makes it even more painful in its banality. With morality being a system of ideas of right and wrong conduct, it depends on the definitions of right and wrong. Such definitions are highly susceptible to what is defined by the society as a whole as acceptable and what is not. I won't go into theology here, and will completely omit in my musings the idea that God (or some sort of divinity) is the source of all morality. This might or might not be 'true', I'm not discussing this here. But, what all of us can agree on is that morality, in some of its parts at least, is mutable depending on time and place. What is seen as moral from a Christian perspective doesn't have to be seen as moral from a Muslim perspective. What was moral for a citizen of Ancient Rome or Egypt can be completely immoral for an American or Croatian in 2009. This, if nothing else, proves that the system of ideas of right and wrong conduct are dependable on the time frame and current mainstream culture; whatever absolute you might think is 'true' in a greater sense. To explain my last statement on absolutes - your, the reader's, morality indeed might be the true absolute of morality - but there's no proof for that. As there's no proof that any other system of moral values is THE absolute, we can only speculate that what we define as 'right' or 'wrong' conduct is closer to the absolute than previous (or other) systems of conduct.

Then I ask you - what does morality have to do with sexuality? In a specific sense - nothing. But not for us. When not talking about rape or other forms of using sexuality as violence (which, I personally, wouldn't even discuss under the umbrella term of sexuality - that is fully in the domain of morality) sexuality CANNOT and MUST NOT be defined in the limits of morality. I'm not saying all forms of sexual desires, identities and roles are moral. I'm not saying some of them are immoral and some are not. What I'm saying is that the attributes of 'right' and 'wrong' cannot be added to sexual identities, roles and desires. If it's consensual, and to the pleasure of all parties involved, sexuality isn't a matter of morality; and shouldn't be even discussed in such contexts. Being heterosexual isn't 'right'. Being asexual isn't 'wrong'. It just is.

Why then do we define sexuality in the field of morality so often? This is a much broader problem than sexuality itself. This speaks of our society's complete incapability of distinguishing 'right' from 'wrong'; in the moral sense; even in those things which should be attributed through morality. Money, ownership, success, fame, competition - all these are seen as morally 'right', or in the best case not even attributed by morality. We have lost our moral compass, if we ever had it.

They say we're more developed than animals or 'lower' beings because of our morality. I would say we're more developed in the capability to rationalize our vileness and live with ourselves blind to the fact we're hollow. More hollow than anything this universe has seen before. I won't ask why. I won't say I'm not affected by this complete hollowness of our morals. I will live on, and hope someday there will be a cure for all of us.

Cure and redemption.

***

Licemjerje našeg društva, i nas kao ljudi, je očito više nego igdje u pogledima i tabuima naše kulture prema seksualnosti. Ne pišem ovo iz pozicije nepovezanog kliničkog promatrača, nego kao osoba rođena, obrazovana i indoktrinirana u naše vrijednosti (naše vrijednost kažem misleći na vrijednosti modernog, zapadnog ako želite, društva). Ja, kao svi vi, sam licemjer; na način koji je mnogo sveobuhvatniji od samo onog što sam bio naučen da su vrijednosti u seksualnosti. Ovo nije još jedna od mojih priča o seksualnosti, iako neki od vas sigurno ne misle tako. Ovo je razmišljanje o stanju našeg morala, koji je propao i atrofirao u nešto monstruozno odvratno, kada ga usporedimo sa onim što bi trebao biti. Ovo može biti zastupano i u drugom smislu: da li je naš moral atrofirao ili u stvari nikada nije bio ono za što smo ga mi predstavljali? Ali, ostavimo to za neko drugo vrijeme i mjesto.

Što, mogli bi se zapitati, sa našom moralnošću i seksualnošću? Pazite, naslov ovog posta nije 'moralnost seksualnosti' već 'moralnost i seksualnost'. To nije pogreška, ili slučajna omaška u značenju. Prije nego uđem dublje u argument, ili ako smijem tako reći, moju bol zbog stanja našeg društva, htio bih definirati pojmove koje koristim kako bih izbjegao pogreške vezane uz značenje ili moj zapleten stil pisanja. Evo par definicija prije nego nastavimo:

Moralnost - sustav ideja dobrog ili lošeg ophođenja.

Seksualnost - urođeni atributi osobe, koji uključuju seksualne želje, uloge i identitete. (Seksualnost može imati puno širi smisao, ali drugi aspekti pojma nisu od interesa ovog posta, tako da ih neću spomenuti u definiciji koja se koristi ovdje, Isto tako, više se usmjeravam na identitete i uloge, koje su pod velikim utjecajem društva kao definirajućeg faktora; i zbog toga izvrnute našim društvom. Uzmite riječ 'urođeno' sa mnogo opreza u ovom slučaju, npr. nema mnogo urođenog u društvenim ulogama.)

Argumentacija moje pozicije je prilično kratka, što ju čini još bolnijom u njenoj banalnosti. Pošto je moralnost sistem ideja dobrog i lošeg ophođenja, ovisi o definicijama dobrog i lošeg. Takve definicije su jako ovisne o tome što naše društvo u cjelini definira kao prihvatljivo a što ne. Neću ulaziti u teologiju ovdje, i potpuno ću zanemariti u svojim razmišljanjima ideju da je Bog (ili nešto drugo natprirodno) izvor moralnosti. To može i ne mora biti 'istinito', ne raspravljam o tome ovdje. No, svi se možemo složiti da je moralnost, barem u nekim svojim dijelovima, promjenjiva ovisno o vremenu i mjestu. Što je moralno iz kršćanske perspektive ne mora biti moralno iz muslimanske. Što je bilo moralno građaninu starog Rima ili Egipta može biti potpuno nemoralno Amerikancu ili Hrvatu u 2009. Ovo, ako ništa drugo, dokazuje da sistem ideja dobrog i lošeg ophođenja ovisi o vremenskom okviru i mainstream kulturi; ma koji apsolut vi smatrali 'istinitim' u širem smislu. Da objasnim rečenicu o apsolutima - vaša, čitateljeva, moralnost stvano može biti pravi apsolut moralnosti - ali za to nema dokaza. Isto kao što nema dokaza da je bilo koji drugi sistem morala apsolut, možemo samo nagađati da je ono što mi definiramo kao 'dobro' i 'loše' ophođenje bliže apsolutu nego prošli (ili drugi) sustavi ophođenja.

Onda vas pitam - što moralnost ima sa seksualnošću? U užem smislu - ništa. No ne za nas. Kada ne govorimo o silovanju ili drugim oblicima korištenja seksualnosti kao nasilja (koje, ja osobno, ne bih uopće navodio pod pojmom seksualnosti - to je potpuno u domeni moralnosti) seksualnost NE MOŽE i NE SMIJE biti definirana unutar ograda moralnosti. Ne govorim da su svi oblici seksualnih želja, identiteta i uloga moralni. Ne govorim da su neki od njih nemoralni a neku nisu. To što govorim jest da atribucija 'dobrog' i 'lošeg' ne može biti korištena u slučaju seksualnih uloga, identiteta i želja. Ako je dogovorna, i na zadovoljstvo svih koji sudjeluju, seksualnost nije stvar moralnosti; i ne bi se o njoj uopće trebalo raspravljati u takvim kontekstima. Biti heteroseksualan nije 'dobro'. Biti aseksualan nije 'loše'. Jednostavno jest.

Zašto onda definiramo seksualnosti unutar polja moralnosti tako često? Ovo je puno širi problem od same seksualnosti. Ovo govori o potpunoj nemogućnosti našeg društva da razlikuje 'dobro' od 'lošeg'; u moralnom smislu; čak i u onim stvarima koje bi trebale biti određene kroz moralnost. Novac, vlasništvo, uspjeh, slava, natjecanje - sve ovo se vidi kao moralno 'dobro', ili u najboljem slučaju nije uopće određeno realnošću. Izgubili smo naš moralni kompas, ako smo ga ikada imali.

Kažu da smo mi razvijeniji od životinja ili 'nižih' bića baš zbog naše moralnosti. Ja bih rekao da smo više razvijeni zbog sposobnosti da racionaliziramo našu opakost i živimo sami sa sobom slijepi za činjenicu da smo prazni. Više smo šuplji nego bilo što što je ovaj svemir ikada prije vidio. Neću pitati zašto. Neću reći da nisam pod utjecajem ove potpune šupljosti našeg morala. Živjet ću dalje, i nadati se da će jednog dana postojati lijek za sve nas.

Lijek i iskupljenje.

Health center bizarreness - Bizarnost doma zdravlja

2009-07-11T17:18:26Z

During the summer, I'm working at a health center downtown as a receptionist. Needless to say, when you work with hundreds of different people every day, more than one bizzare situation happens. So, here's one from today. It was a slow morning, since it's a Saturday, with only the emergency services working (just a couple of doctors). An older woman, probably in her fifties or sixties came carrying a couple of bags, and barely tackled the door at the entrance. When she was leaving, fifteen minutes later, I decided to help and open the doors for her. So, I'm opening the doors and she says:

Woman: "Oh, so nice of you!"
Me: "Thanks!"
Woman: "Say, do you want to look something up on the Internet?"
Me (completely confused): "Ummm...?"
Woman: "Something on the Internet. Take a look at something?"
Me: "Ummm...what do you mean? Now?"
Woman: "No, no....I'll give you the address and you look it up later."
Me: "Oh, no. But thanks."
Woman: "But why not? It's very interesting, I'll write it down on a piece of paper or something. You'll share it with your friends after you look it up, I promise!"

I manage to politely tell her off and she leaves. Afterwards, I realize she was trying to give me a link; and I came to these conclusions as to why:

a) She's a Jehovah's Witness, and they started using the interwebs. Curses and damnation, why? WHY?

b) She's a genetically engineered prototype of a polite granny spambot^TM(the organic version). She tackles innocent bystanders with offers of dubious links which offer penis enlargement or some variants of Viagra. What else could it be???!!!

c) She's one of the 1% of old Croatians who speak English, and she discovered Wikipedia. Since then, she's a traveling evangelist of the massive free encyclopedia.

d) She was Tom Cruise. In disguise. SCIENTOLOGISTS HAVE ARRIVED! I need to move to Africa. ASAP. After all, no Scientologists where there's no money to cheat out of people. But...then...what're they doing in Croatia?

***

Tijekom ljeta, radim u domu zdravlja u centru kao portir. Kao što to biva, kad radite sa stotinama različitih ljudi svaki dan, dogodi se više od jedne bizarne situacije. Pa, evo jedne od danas. Bilo je sporo jutro, pošto je subota, pa samo ordinacije za hitne slučajeve rade (svega par doktora). Starija žena, vjerojatno od nekih pedesetak ili šezdesetak godina je došlo noseći par vrećica, i jedva savladala vrata na ulazu. Kada je odlazila, petnaest minuta kasnije, sam joj odlučio pomoći i otvoriti vrata. Tako joj ja otvaram vrata i ona kaže:

Žena: "Tako lijepo od vas!"
Ja: "Hvala!"
Žena: "Hoćeš nešto pogledati na Internetu?"
Ja (totalno zbunjen): "Ummm...?"
Žena: "Nešto na Internetu? Pogledati nešto?"
Ja: "Ummm...kako mislite? Sad?"
Žena: "Ne, ne...ja ću ti dati adresu pa ti pogledaj kasnije."
Ja: "Pa, ne. Ali hvala."
Žena: "Zašto ne? Jako je zanimljivo. Napisat ću ti na papir pa pogledaj. Sigurno ćeš podjeliti s prijateljima kad pogledaš!"

Nekako je uspijevam otpraviti i ona odlazi. Kasnije, shvaćam da mi je htjela dati link; i došao sam do ovih zaključaka zašto je to htjela:

a) Ona je Jehovin svjedok, i počeli su koristiti net. Prokletstvo, zašto? ZAŠTO?

b) Ona je genetičkim inženjeringom stvoren prototip pristojna-bakica spambota^TM (organska verzija). Napada nevine prolaznike sa ponudama sumnjivih linkova koji nude povećanje penisa ili različite oblike Viagre Što drugo bi mogla biti???!!!

c) Ona je jedna od onih 1% starijih Hrvata koji govore engleski, i otkrila je Wikipediju. Od onda je putujući propovjednik ogromne besplatne enciklopedije.

d) Ona je u biti Tom Cruise. Zamaskiran. SCIJENTOLOZI SU STIGLI! Moram se preseliti u Afriku. Odmah. Jer poznato je da nema scijentologa tamo gdje nema novca koji se varanjem može izvući iz ljudi. Ali...onda...što radi u Hrvatskoj?

Thugs and sheep or Quote of the Day IV - Lopovi i ovce ili citat dana IV

2009-07-07T21:38:40Z

"Some states have a mafia; the Croatian mafia has a state."

Jeffrey T. Kuhner

The Prime Minister resigned. We're not sure what to make of it. I mean, I feel the mere fact that I'm thinking about it pollutes my mind. Mens sana in corpore sano; well, with thoughts like these, I'm not getting even close to the proverbial Romans. Though, with the politics of ancient Rome, I doubt they did either. The country is a complete mess. I'm not saying this from a perspective of some highly educated analyst, not from an economic perspective or anything as intellectually elevated. A friend of mine would say I turn everything into a philosophical debate. Well Ner, here's this to prove you wrong. I don't have much to debate, argue or dissect in this. I can only say I'm tired, at the age of 20. I want to move from here, to someplace where I won't even have to know who's running the country; because it won't matter.

***

"Neke države imaju mafiju; hrvatska mafija ima državu."

Jeffrey T. Kuhner

Premijer je dao otkaz. Nismo još sigurni što to točno znači. Mislim, osjećam se kao da sama činjenica da mislim o tome zagađuje moj um. Mens sana in corpore sano; no, s mislima kao ovim, nisam čak ni blizu poslovičnim Rimljanima. Iako, sa politikom u starom Rimu, nekako sumnjam da su i oni bili blizu tom idealu. Država je u rasulu. Ne kažem ovo iz perspektive nekog visoko obrazovanog analitičara, niti iz ekonomske perspektive ili ičega tako intelektualno uzdignutog. Jedan moj prijatelj uvijek kaže da pretvaram sve u filozofsku debatu. Pa Ner, evo ovo ti dokazuje suprotno! Nemam mnogo za raspraviti, prepirati se ili secirati u ovom. Mogu samo reći da sam umoran, u dobi od 20 godina. Želim se odseliti, na neko mjesto gdje neću morati uopće morati znati tko vodi državu; jer to zaista nije važno.

Quote of the day III - Citat dana III

2009-06-15T17:41:52Z

"I like your Christ, but I don't like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." Gandhi

Terse, simple and summarizes my problems and pains on the trek to God.

****

"Sviđa mi se vaš Krist, ali mi se ne sviđaju vaši kršćani. Vaši kršćani su toliko ne nalik vašem Kristu." Gandhi

Sažeto, jednostavno i sabire sve moje probleme i boli na putu ka Bogu.

A discussion about learning and belief - Rasprava o učenju i vjerovanju

2009-06-14T01:22:35Z

I had a very interesting discussion with Pup in chat only minutes ago. I articulated my standpoints very well, so I wanted to save it/have it for possible future use. Enjoy! ;)

(2:29:28 AM) bakho_lappy: and morality is ingrained to a person?
(2:29:32 AM) bakho_lappy: or educated and taught?
(2:29:34 AM) bakho_lappy: ;)
(2:29:36 AM) Rebelpup: Neither
(2:29:46 AM) bakho_lappy: neither? it just is?
(2:29:46 AM) Rebelpup: Morality is picked up
(2:29:49 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:29:53 AM) bakho_lappy: thus, learned
(2:29:58 AM) Rebelpup: not necessarily :)
(2:30:00 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:30:07 AM) bakho_lappy: how do you pick it up then?
(2:30:12 AM) Rebelpup: how many people do you know who have converted religions?
(2:30:23 AM) Rebelpup: They never really 'learned' that morality
(2:30:25 AM) bakho_lappy: using your intestine, not brain?:D
(2:30:30 AM) SGAngel: me
(2:30:30 AM) Rebelpup: they came to understand it
(2:30:35 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:30:37 AM) bakho_lappy: thus...learned it
(2:30:39 AM) SGAngel: I converted religion
(2:30:40 AM) Rebelpup: there's a difference between understanding something and learning it
(2:30:43 AM) bakho_lappy: you're just using different terms
(2:30:46 AM) bakho_lappy: while they learned it
(2:30:51 AM) Rebelpup: Me too, SGAngel, a few times
(2:30:52 AM) Rebelpup: Nope
(2:31:00 AM) Rebelpup: You can understand something without learning it, bakho_lappy
(2:31:17 AM) bakho_lappy: what does 'learn' mean?
(2:31:39 AM) Rebelpup: Learning it requires a certain level of belief into the concept that you understand. You need one before the other.
(2:32:08 AM) Kessa: It's more of an instinct Bakho...
(2:32:12 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:32:18 AM) Kessa: why do some choose one religion over another?
(2:32:19 AM) bakho_lappy: you think you're born with morality?
(2:32:27 AM) Rebelpup: picking something up is almost the preliminary of it it
(2:32:33 AM) bakho_lappy: because he was exposed to it?
(2:32:39 AM) Rebelpup: Eh, propensities to morality
(2:32:43 AM) Kessa: It's a trigger from a number of things
(2:32:51 AM) Kessa: things that shape your ideals about the world
(2:32:52 AM) Rebelpup: not necessarily a hardcore morality
(2:34:17 AM) bakho_lappy: I was brought up in a society with Christian morality. I was taught all my life by society that sex between two men was amoral. but I've learned in the course of my education that my morality isn't necessarily the 'right morality'. that the sense of morals isn't something like mathematics. it's a thing which needs constant questioning
(2:34:50 AM) bakho_lappy: education taught me that. not some philosophical understanding or a moment of epiphany or clarity
(2:35:06 AM) bakho_lappy: I can believe in a God. but I needn't believe he's the source of morality.
(2:35:09 AM) Kessa: For you, that is true.. for someone with a harder take on what they were brought up with, it would not necessarily be the same even if they had the same education
(2:35:23 AM) Rebelpup: So, in essence, you understand, AND believe, that your morality does not rule the lives of others
(2:35:47 AM) bakho_lappy: I don't believe it on a metaphysical level
(2:35:52 AM) bakho_lappy: it's not something blind
(2:36:08 AM) bakho_lappy: it's been proven to me through constant evaluation
(2:36:16 AM) Rebelpup: Bah, who's talking about metaphysical existence, not me
(2:36:20 AM) Kessa: Most who have a certain religion would claim the same
(2:36:27 AM) bakho_lappy: you are. talking about believing it
(2:36:40 AM) Rebelpup: It's been 'proven' to you enough that you believe it, is the point, bakho_lappy
(2:36:50 AM) Rebelpup: that level of 'proof' isn't enough for everyone
(2:36:52 AM) bakho_lappy: but it's not a point of belief
(2:36:55 AM) Rebelpup: even if they understand the concept
(2:37:05 AM) bakho_lappy: as evolution isn't a point of belief
(2:37:12 AM) bakho_lappy: or the theory of relativity
(2:37:19 AM) Rebelpup: belief isn't metaphysical :P It's a conviction that something is ture
(2:37:21 AM) Rebelpup: *true
(2:37:22 AM) bakho_lappy: or the laws of thermodynamics
(2:37:23 AM) SGAngel left the room (quit: Broken pipe).
(2:37:33 AM) Rebelpup: whether or not it is, necessarily, demonstrably true
(2:37:54 AM) bakho_lappy: trying to degrade ethics into the domain of religion is backward
(2:38:08 AM) Rebelpup: eh?
(2:38:16 AM) Rebelpup: I'm not talking about ethics OR religion :P
(2:38:17 AM) SGAngel [Kill_Tom@IRCStorm-1EAD5CEF.winn.cable.ntl.com] entered the room.
(2:38:19 AM) bakho_lappy: religion,any religion, does not have a monopoly on sense of morals
(2:38:28 AM) Rebelpup: Though, I'll admit, I think they're essentially the same thing
(2:38:29 AM) Rebelpup: I agree
(2:38:32 AM) bakho_lappy: well, you compared my standpoint to religious people's standpoints
(2:38:43 AM) Rebelpup: but either way, to make that statement with conviction, you need to believe it's true
(2:38:59 AM) bakho_lappy: but it's not point of belief
(2:39:24 AM) bakho_lappy: the existence of God is a point of belief
(2:39:33 AM) Rebelpup: In a comparison, yes, I said your standpoint is just as valid. Your standpoint is just as *learned* as is someone else's who uses religion to back it
(2:39:41 AM) bakho_lappy: something measly as sex is pretty much out of the domain of the unproven divine:P
(2:39:45 AM) Rebelpup: So is taking a truth as a truth
(2:39:53 AM) Rebelpup: Someone can believe that a truth is not real
(2:40:06 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:40:09 AM) Rebelpup: 'proof' is not absolute
(2:40:12 AM) bakho_lappy: I didn't say it's truth
(2:40:16 AM) bakho_lappy: nor is truth
(2:40:18 AM) Rebelpup: neither is truth
(2:40:25 AM) bakho_lappy: exactly
(2:40:29 AM) Rebelpup: so... you're arguing against yourself now :P
(2:40:34 AM) bakho_lappy: no, I'm not;)
(2:40:40 AM) Rebelpup: either that, or we're not understanding each other
(2:40:49 AM) Rebelpup: because that's my point
(2:40:51 AM) bakho_lappy: we're not understanding each other
(2:41:04 AM) Rebelpup: in order to think that something's proven, or that something's a truth... you need to believe it's so
(2:41:27 AM) bakho_lappy: no. you just have to check the alternatives. it's an inductive matter, not a matter of belief
(2:41:27 AM) Rebelpup: Belief is a conviction that something is true...
(2:41:34 AM) Rebelpup: or at least that's how I define it :)
(2:41:42 AM) Rebelpup: I don't agree
(2:41:45 AM) bakho_lappy: but...I don't have a conviction that something is true
(2:42:04 AM) Rebelpup: You have a conviction that your morality does not rule the lives of others
(2:42:11 AM) bakho_lappy: I have a conviction that something is useful in interpreting the reality/nature until something else proves to be better at it
(2:42:25 AM) Rebelpup: which IS a belief ;)
(2:42:29 AM) bakho_lappy: no, it's not
(2:42:37 AM) bakho_lappy: belief is conviction that something is true
(2:42:48 AM) Rebelpup: Yes
(2:42:52 AM) bakho_lappy: belief is blind to an alternative
(2:43:22 AM) Rebelpup: You hold "that something is useful in interpreting the reality/nature until something else proves to be better at it" as a truth
(2:43:29 AM) bakho_lappy: no, I don't
(2:43:34 AM) Rebelpup: therefore, you believe it
(2:43:38 AM) Rebelpup: You just said it :P
(2:44:02 AM) bakho_lappy: but I don't have a conviction that what I said is true
(2:44:13 AM) Rebelpup: Belief is not necessarily BLIND to an alternative, it is disregarding that alternative as truth
(2:44:19 AM) bakho_lappy: I have a conviction that that is useful until proven otherwise.
(2:44:39 AM) Rebelpup: Which is a belief that it is useful until proven otherwise
(2:44:42 AM) bakho_lappy: but...you haven't offered any alternative to my way of thinking other than belief
(2:44:50 AM) bakho_lappy: so you're trying to say I have a belief
(2:44:58 AM) bakho_lappy: I have a belief, for example, that God exists
(2:45:00 AM) Rebelpup: No, you're misunderstanding, I'm saying your way of thinking IS a belief ;)
(2:45:19 AM) bakho_lappy: I can try and play with it to try to prove it to myself, but I probably won't succeed
(2:45:37 AM) Rebelpup: You define a belief differently :P
(2:45:47 AM) bakho_lappy: but leaving my sense of morals to belief is just...irresponsible
(2:45:56 AM) Rebelpup: I suspect that because of your 'blindness' statement, earlier ;)
(2:45:57 AM) bakho_lappy: no, it's not
(2:46:20 AM) bakho_lappy: I can agree to your definition
(2:46:21 AM) bakho_lappy: (2:41:27 AM) Rebelpup: Belief is a conviction that something is true...
(2:46:29 AM) bakho_lappy: (2:44:19 AM) bakho_lappy: I have a conviction that that is useful until proven otherwise.
(2:46:34 AM) bakho_lappy: thus, I don't have a belief
(2:46:36 AM) Rebelpup: *regardless* of whether or not it's ture
(2:46:45 AM) Rebelpup: *true
(2:47:00 AM) Rebelpup: you must've missed that part of the definition (mentioned earlier)
(2:47:03 AM) bakho_lappy: but...I'm not even trying to define truth or what is true
(2:47:14 AM) bakho_lappy: I'm not arguing it's true or it's not
(2:47:31 AM) bakho_lappy: I'm only arguing it's the best way to interpret the data I have
(2:47:38 AM) Rebelpup: A conviction toward something IS an argument that it's true
(2:48:00 AM) Rebelpup: If you don't believe it's true, then it wouldn't be a conviction
(2:48:01 AM) bakho_lappy: no, it's not
(2:48:12 AM) Rebelpup: it would just be a suggestion :P
(2:48:21 AM) bakho_lappy: but...I don't think in relations of true/not true
(2:48:43 AM) Rebelpup: Everyone does. Whether or not you try to
(2:49:01 AM) Rebelpup: (yes, that's my belief
(2:49:09 AM) bakho_lappy: truth is so elusive it would be foolish to glorify myself that I'm able to discern it
(2:49:10 AM) Rebelpup: backed by loads of experience to make it so :D)
(2:49:48 AM) bakho_lappy: what I'm able to discern is the effectiveness of construct used to interpret reality
(2:49:58 AM) bakho_lappy: be it sense of morals or the theory of relativity
(2:50:01 AM) bakho_lappy: or evolution;)
(2:50:04 AM) Nerwen: hmm
(2:50:45 AM) bakho_lappy: hmm. see? we hit the wall of your belief
(2:50:51 AM) Rebelpup: hmm?
(2:50:52 AM) Rebelpup: No
(2:50:53 AM) bakho_lappy: not mine. because I don't have a belief in the matter
(2:50:58 AM) Rebelpup: I was just reading something ;P
(2:51:07 AM) Rebelpup: You said that one of those was proven, earlier, to you
(2:51:29 AM) bakho_lappy: hehe
(2:51:37 AM) bakho_lappy: oh, we can argue semantics
(2:51:49 AM) Rebelpup: Which means you believe it to be true :P Proof implies truth
(2:51:50 AM) bakho_lappy: I would use more appropriate words if we talked in Croatian;)
(2:51:53 AM) Rebelpup: with means belief
(2:52:02 AM) Rebelpup: *which
(2:52:24 AM) bakho_lappy: In the philosophy of science, instrumentalism is the view that concepts and theories are useful instruments whose worth is measured not by whether the concepts and theories are true or false (or correctly depict reality), but by how effective they are in explaining and predicting phenomena.
(2:52:27 AM) bakho_lappy: that
(2:52:39 AM) bakho_lappy: I'm arguing that
(2:52:51 AM) Rebelpup: View = belief in that first sentence ;P
(2:53:19 AM) bakho_lappy: but...if you use the same method to decide if you'll apply that view, is it still a belief?
(2:53:24 AM) Rebelpup: you're arguing a belief ;)
(2:53:27 AM) bakho_lappy: that implies that belief is reached by thinking
(2:53:29 AM) Rebelpup: Yes
(2:53:30 AM) bakho_lappy: and it's not
(2:53:36 AM) Rebelpup: Yes it is
(2:53:46 AM) bakho_lappy: Belief is the psychological state in which an individual holds a proposition or premise to be true.
(2:53:46 AM) Rebelpup: Doesn't matter if it's not critical thinking or not :P
(2:53:50 AM) bakho_lappy: I'm not holding it true
(2:54:01 AM) Rebelpup: Then you don't hold that view.
(2:54:06 AM) Rebelpup: That's the point
(2:54:06 AM) bakho_lappy: I'm not even arguing it on the dimension of true or false
(2:54:10 AM) Rebelpup: that view IS a belief
(2:54:16 AM) bakho_lappy: for all I care, it can be false;)
(2:54:33 AM) Rebelpup: that's more evidence it's a belief :P
(2:54:38 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:54:41 AM) bakho_lappy: hmm
(2:54:41 AM) Rebelpup: That goes into cult theories though
(2:54:45 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:54:57 AM) bakho_lappy: you're saying that scientific instrumentalism is a cult?
(2:54:57 AM) bakho_lappy: :D
(2:55:00 AM) Rebelpup: (that is, theories about cults and how they work)
(2:55:20 AM) Rebelpup: Many cults have set dates for things like Armaggedon and such
(2:55:28 AM) Rebelpup: including cults that don't kill themselves
(2:56:10 AM) bakho_lappy: hmm
(2:56:40 AM) Rebelpup: and when confronted with the fact that the data was false (such as, the day comes and passes) a majority (if not all) of all followers remain convinced (even more convicted, in most cases) that their cult is true
(2:56:45 AM) Rebelpup: true/right/whatever
(2:56:57 AM) bakho_lappy: but...I'm not arguing I'm right
(2:57:05 AM) Rebelpup: neither am I?
(2:57:12 AM) Rebelpup: I'm arguing that I'M right :P
(2:57:28 AM) bakho_lappy: well, you're arguing that I'm arguing that I think instrumentalism is true
(2:57:33 AM) Rebelpup: And that those who hold that viewpoint mentioned earlier
(2:57:39 AM) Rebelpup: *believe* it
(2:57:42 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:57:45 AM) Rebelpup: Ah, here's the crux of the misunderstanding
(2:57:47 AM) bakho_lappy: I don't see a connection, sorry
(2:57:51 AM) Rebelpup: my use of 'you' was universal
(2:58:13 AM) Rebelpup: to mean 'those of you who hold that view'
(2:58:26 AM) bakho_lappy: ah. sorry. I don't think instrumentalism is true. I think it's currently the most useful standpoint which I considered
(2:58:41 AM) Rebelpup: mmhm
(2:58:48 AM) Rebelpup: which I would argue means you understand it :)
(2:59:12 AM) bakho_lappy: err
(2:59:14 AM) bakho_lappy: hmm
(2:59:18 AM) ***Rebelpup uses bits and pieces of various educational theories
(2:59:41 AM) bakho_lappy: I wouldn't want to give an answer until we define what 'understand' means
(2:59:41 AM) Rebelpup: There's the one that says there are seven levels of learning...
(2:59:51 AM) Rebelpup: it's where I come up with a majority of my viewpoint :)
(3:00:10 AM) bakho_lappy: what's the name of that theory?
(3:00:58 AM) Rebelpup: understand I would say is closest to what modern learning in (US) High schools. Being able to regurgitate the information, as well as apply it in situations as though it were 'true'
(3:01:12 AM) Rebelpup: bah, you ask the hard questions. One moment, let me look it up online :P
(3:01:44 AM) bakho_lappy: isn't that what 'learn' means?
(3:01:52 AM) Rebelpup: no
(3:01:56 AM) Rebelpup: at least, I don't think so
(3:02:00 AM) bakho_lappy: what's the difference?
(3:02:07 AM) Rebelpup: It just demonstrates that you understand a concept
(3:02:24 AM) Rebelpup: Learning implies belief in the concept ;) a conviction that it's true
(3:02:31 AM) bakho_lappy: what's the diferentia specifica between learn and understand?
(3:02:38 AM) Rebelpup: Hence, for instance, kids can learn in both school, and religious school
(3:02:38 AM) bakho_lappy: hmm
(3:02:44 AM) bakho_lappy: so...I never learned anything in my life?
(3:02:45 AM) Rebelpup: afk
(3:02:55 AM) bakho_lappy: or at least, at one point, I unlearned everything?
(3:03:41 AM) bakho_lappy: because I don't think I can argue about truthfulness of anything
(3:04:32 AM) bakho_lappy: *differentia
(3:06:04 AM) bakho_lappy: a very interesting discussion pup. thank you for it;)