Water, Helen, water…

Driving back from a midnight snack-run the other night, one of my friends made the observation that all the good things in life (in this case chocolate covered ice-cream) are bad for you. After giving fatty foods and alcohol some thought, it occurred to one of other my friends to remind us that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.
 
This made me pause and think for a second: both of these words of wisdom fall into the category of axiomatic clichés people like to regurgitate from time to time. Why, I ask you?

Think about it: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Indeed. I wonder what my good friend Helen Keller would have said about that? Probably not all that much, come to think of it, but you get my point. How many people have you heard extolling the virtues of surviving polio or small pox (or in Helen’s case scarlet fever or meningitis)? My guess is not all that many…

Don’t get me wrong – I’m all for trial and tribulation and taking the road less travelled by. I just hate the way people always want to tell victims of suffering that there is some kind of cosmic justification for going through hell. When my mom died everyone kept telling me that there was a reason for everything and that I should use the experience to grow. Gee thanks, I used to think, I’m so glad my mom could die to make me stronger!

Getting out of (accidentally) calling someone a “fat bastard” – the idiots guide.

It’s been 4 months since I last (first!) blogged. I actually almost forgot about it, until I got an approval mail for a comment Johan posted. This (along with the exams and the need to study) seems to have been impetus enough to get me to do so again. Having said that, I suddenly remember that I have spent the past two weeks doing nothing but writing – 30 000 words to be exact – in a desperate attempt to get my degree on 12 December. The fire detracted from more than just my social life…

Aah, my social life. Electronic social networks (including Mxit, Facebook and the Eendrag forum) have really come into their own since the fire; increasingly I find myself pseudo-socialising through my fingers and thumbs. Three months down the line this has made me aware of an interesting phenomenon…

The problem (supposedly) is that debates, discussions and general chit-chat lose certain nuances when conducted over cables and airwaves. In ‘proper’ (face-to-face) conversation we use body language, facial expressions and intonation (inter alia) along with content to ascertain meaning. The way someone says something is thus just as important as what they actually say. Fair enough. I’ll even concede that electronic communication precludes this.

My problem is that now every time somebody says something that upsets somebody else, they ascribe it to a misunderstanding or misinterpretation based on a lack of non-verbal communication. The phrase “I’m sorry if you misunderstood what I said” is oft quoted on forums (along with the phrase “I’m sorry if you took offence”). This is normally followed with some variation on “what I really meant was <insert generic politically correct alternative here>.” Ugh. Worst of all is that corrections are generally inspired by false regret (based on some form of guilt or fear of retribution or whatever else).

This annoys me for two reasons. Firstly, people going around saying things they really shouldn’t (often involving derogatory stereotypes) and then chalk it up to a misunderstanding based on a lack of non-verbal communication (oh, you were being sarcastic…). Secondly, the onus of distilling correct meaning is now placed on the recipient of a communiqué. The problem isn’t really a lack of non-verbal queues as people would like to suggest – the problem is that people can’t express themselves properly to begin with (it’s not my fault you read what I actually wrote – you should have read my mind instead).

It is a sad state of affairs indeed, and one I don’t see improving. a) Electronic communication is on the rise. b) Writing ability is deteriorating @ n = r8. The upside is the freedom that comes from never having to take responsibility for what one says (true freedom of speech). And I think to myself, what a wonderful world!

To blog or not to blog?

I sometimes wonder what Shakespeare would have thought about the many mundane inflictions suffered by his profoundly existential* soliloquy. These days anything can be the question. To shop, to eat? No more! When Shakespeare posed the question – the real one – he questioned the very notion of existence. To be or not to be? Today anyone with a spoonful of learning feels quite at home flippantly reciting the phrase with complete disregard for its gravity. (Quoting Shakespeare, after all, is a sign of intelligence, is it not? Hmmm.)

A discourse saturated with deconstructive, referential mutations has become the hallmark of contemporary society. I recently read an article about the decline of the traditional fairytale in our post-modern world. Shrek, it would seem, has huffed and puffed and blown the house down. Everyone is disillusioned. Those who are not, are obviously on Zoloft. Or should be. Cynicism is the new pessimism (although both actually remain realism). In the midst of this crisis, however, we have developed a penchant for a somewhat worrisome assumption – people care about blogs. Go figure.

It is in the light of this paradox that I enter the blogosphere and bear my well-considered thoughts for the world to read.

*Shakespeare’s ignorance of existentialism aside, of course.