This is getting a little out of hand...

... but then it comes right back.

Donating my boomerang to science

One day in my psychology of humor class I jokingly made a side comment to a fellow student that the incongruity theory of humor was like the flight of a boomerang. It kind of made sense, but there hadn’t been very much thought behind it beyond the impulse. When a creative project was assigned, I told my colleague (it becoming a running joke) that I was going to whittle a boomerang. I don’t know how serious I was with the idea, but I had to “stick to my boomerangs” every time the creative project was brought up. I have always wanted to whittle a boomerang, so that’s what I ended up doing. I haven’t whittled anything since Pinewood Derbies, and I’ve only ever thrown a boomerang once before (it was one of those triangular Aerobie boomerangs), so I decided that it would be creative enough, and probably take far longer than the required eight hours of work for the project (which it did). I had to make two of them. The first one worked so well that I threw it around until it broke... three days before I had to present it. I was so upset about it breaking that I not only fixed it, but I made another one. Two boomerangs! I was so focused on making the boomerangs that I forgot about having to explain how a boomerang relates to the psychology of humor.

Here’s the analytical rundown:

Incongruity theory explains that an important (and in the theory’s case, essential) aspect of humor is its incongruous deviation from expectation. A boomerang satisfies this criterion very well: When a boomerang is thrown, it is expected to move and act like any normal object of that size and mass—move straight for as far as the energy provided can propel it. However, a boomerang begins to fly differently from the norm shortly after it is released; it curves in an elliptical path until, if thrown correctly, it returns to the thrower. Now, the incongruity of any joke is merely confusing if there is no deeper explanation to the unexpected deviation; the intelligent, alternative explanation (wit) elicits a mirthful response (possibly laughter) indicating that the experience was humorous. This is satisfied by the understanding of Bernoulli’s Principle: As air on the top of each arm (or airfoil) moves a farther distance over a curved path in the same amount of time as the air moving in a straight path on the bottom, the increased airspeed on the top has lower pressure (the principle itself) than the unaltered airspeed on the bottom which creates lift in the direction of the low pressure. Therefore, a boomerang is pulled in the direction of the curved face of the airfoil. That sounds all smart n’ crap, and it completely explains the incongruous behavior of the boomerang! The result: humor. If you don’t believe that this whole process is funny, then why did everybody chuckle when I told ‘em I was whittling a boomerang?! (If you can think of anything, keep it to yourself, this isn’t about you)

Another aspect of humor is that it follows a basic, three-act pattern:

Act I: The Introduction of the plot—a boomerang is thrown. Off it goes, straight, just like everyone expected.

Act II: The Conflict or plot twist — to everyone’s shock and amazement, the boomerang curves (I bet you thought I was going to say it “twists”... or "conflicts")

Act III: The Resolution—the boomerang returns safely to its owner, unharmed, having learned a valuable lesson.

A Laugh is born!
Right now I'm thinking of a crying laugh... straight out of the womb... a paradox?

Sigmund Freud has an explanation for this just as he does for everything else. His Psychoanalytic Theory of humor states that the laughter and mirth resulting from this humorous experience are just the outlet for excess libidinal energy which built up in act II from all the suspense and tension (don’t deny it) when, to our relief, act III shows you that there’s really nothing to worry about anymore.

The Reversal Theory of humor explains that laughter and the feeling of mirth are a result of the psychological interchange between the telic (serious, goal-driven) and paratelic (playful, inconsequential) mindsets in even, moderate ratios… probably something to do with Pythagoras and the Golden Mean, I’m sure. And, because everyone knows that returning boomerangs are used for hunting birds (telic), the playful use of boomerangs in recreation (paratelic) is funny!

The final concept I want to use is known as “The Circle of Expectation”. If you will please revert your attention to the facet of Incongruity Theory about (and explanation for) the deviations from the norm. As incongruity needs to be moderated in quality by requiring a sound alternative explanation, the Circle of Expectation moderates the quantity of incongruity so that it is not just a random deviation devoid of any logical tether. If the boomerang were to disappear and reappear 100 miles away, that would just be baffling or confusing, not humorous. It is expected that a person of my stature would be able to throw an object of similar size and mass up to 100 yards. Thus, the physical area of expected possible flight of the boomerang is restricted to a 100 yard radius with the thrower as the focal point. The flight path of the boomerang stays within the confines of the Circle of Expectation and does not lose any humor to confusion.

So, I whittled a boomerang for my psychology class. That incongruity with expected course-relevant assignments has hopefully been resolved in an intelligent and creative way. Perhaps it pushed the limits of the Circle of Expectation, but at least Freud helped us all return to some sound, level ground just as a boomerang returns ever-so-faithfully to its master.

These are the figures I used in class during my presentation

Dino-roar

Click "play" to see how I drew them!

MMMM... Felt it!

I saw a Discovery Channel special once about elephants that paint. At first I just thought it was kind of silly because I've actually been to a zoo where they had one of the elephants grab a paintbrush, dip it in paint, and splotch it on a sheet of paper. It wasn't a big deal; there was no real form or subject or anything, just random smears of color. I'm pretty sure the elephant couldn't even see what it was doing, but it was a cute trick. Then the program showed some of these paintings, and that they sold for more than $500! That's ridiculous! The paintings were totally bogus. the only variations in them were the colors the trainers gave them to use and the elephant that made them (Jojo's were all crazy scribbles, and Srisiam's were all vertical lines). I couldn't believe they were calling it art. There is no artistic ability there. There's no skill. The elephants are incapable of even understanding what they're trying to do; how could they ever be expected to improve? All they know is if they do a trick, they'll get a treat. But then the program explained that the money from the sales was used to help protect Asian Elephants (they're endangered). That's art! Back when I watched that special, it explained that all of the profit from the sales would go to this fund except for the cost of material, I just went on the website the show talked about again today, and even though the prices for the paintings have gone way down, they're only donating $30 a painting.

What do we mean when we classify something as "art"? I think that's a good example of how our language is being destroyed: everybody means something different. The other day I was playing with spilled pepper on a table in the cafeteria and made it look like a frog's head. If you call that art, what word are we going to use to classify the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? it's like the word "Love": If you tell everyone you love them, you can't tell anyone you love them. It's alright for something to be beautiful without calling it art. Art is more than just beautiful things, it's the beauty of beauty in all of its forms. Everyone just wants credit for things that they are even remotely involved in; you see something you like, and you've got to stick your finger in it. After all, you can't have art without an artist, right? But isn't the purpose of art to express the feelings one has felt more effectively than through words by providing a sensual means of experiencing the same emotion the artist experienced? And if that isn't the common consensus, shouldn't it be? How can you do that without experiencing emotion in the first place? There has to be passion! with that understanding, the value of "art" and merit of that classification is directly proportional to the effort and motivation involved.

In my opinion, some of the most harmful things that someone can do to society is to give credit when it isn't deserved, withhold credit where credit is due, and to think that you're the one who deserves the credit. I'm guilty of that often. I'm too quick to give credit to people who's motivation is completely extrinsic and monetarily based (giving only to get), and too slow to give credit for all beautiful things to the Real Artist. Seldom do we really deserve credit. Just because we sometimes get to stick are finger in some of the beauty we've been blessed to be a part of doesn't make us the artist. Doesn't it seem fitting, then, to make our imitations of Real Art focus on Him? Art is more than aesthetics (as far as the colloquial meaning of that word). the beauty of art comes from passion. The ultimate passion is expressed through understanding the beauty of God's creations, thus, expressing the beauty of our own existence (being created by God), we can create true beauty: art. This emulation of God's power to create is art. Everything has already been created without us. All we can do is imitate.

Drawing toward victory! (DTH follow-up)

*Note: in order to understand this post, please read "Drawing toward humiliation" first.
I got my Philosophy exam back, and to my great surprise and wonderment I got a 23/25! Not only that, but the professor mentioned that the average on the exam was a 19 and that the highest score was a 23! I'm pretty sure someone else shares that high score, but of all the other exams I saw, the highest was 21. Out of 6 points possible on the universe question (prompt #4) that I sketched, I got a 5 because I didn't a explain the effects of 2 of Aristotle's 4 causes even though they were accurately represented. The average score for #4 was 3.5/6.

So there you have it! As I sat there with my graded exam, the embarrassment of having done it incorrectly transformed to guilt. I had spent so much less time than everyone else on prompt #4 and received a better grade than the students seated near me who had written pages explaining the effects of aether on the superlunar universe. I didn't want anyone to see my grade. I hid it in my backpack and tried to participate in some of the conversations of disappointment with my classmates.

I wonder how I can apply that to my life. I obviously presented something that was exceptional, as far as proof of understanding, but I shied away from the norm in format. I wish I could say that I did it on purpose, but the lack of instruction forced me to be unique. I don't know if the professor gave further instruction that I missed, or if my assumption that I had missed it is the cause, but my conclusion is thus: It doesn't matter how other people do things; trust yourself and be confident in doing things the best way you can. Of course, it's not very wise to blind yourself in order to be forced into uniqueness. You stand much taller on other people's shoulders; to do anything well, you must be exposed to good examples (books, art, music, lives, etc.). You need to take chances and give them your best shot.

My brother wants to start a grilled pizza restaurant. At first I was skeptical, but I went to his grilled pizza party the other day, and it knocked my socks off! We all made our own with the provided ingredients. I made one with a cheese sauce, guacamole, steak, and mushrooms. It was so good that in the process of eating it, I chomped a chunk out of my cheek (it hurt like crazy, and my cheek is still a little swollen, but it made the steak taste a little more rare... which was nice). I guess the point is: he knows what he wants and he's good at it. Who am I to think that just because it's a little risky and different that it's not a good idea? You miss every shot you don't take. Maybe we just need to get used to the feeling of missing the shots we actually do take.

Lost the day waiting...

I've already written most of the things that have been on my mind lately, so posts may be a lot less frequent than they have been. This one will be focused on tying some of the others together.

I spend a lot of time wishing something grand would cross my path. If something good happens to me, that might just be enough to make me happy. All my efforts are wasted waiting. Lately I've been thinking a lot about why I'm uncomfortable with the person I've become so far. I know that's normal and even healthy if you deal with it in an optimistic way; there's a lot of room for progress toward infinite perfection. However, my discontent doesn't come from the regret of not having gone places or even the lack of entertaining opportunities, it comes from realizing I could have done more; I could have created more; I could have become more.

Of course, worrying about the "could have's" doesn't solve anything. I need to focus on the can's. My mom commented on my "Rhymes with boomerang" post, encouraging me that it's never too late to learn how to play the guitar. I guess that's true about anything. I'm sure you could have been better at it, whatever that may be, had you started earlier, but life's long and good intentions are proven by realizing them.
It's even scientifically true that "you are what you eat." In possibly an even more scientific way, I also think that "you are what you create." That follows the same principle that what you think, you say, what you say, you do, and what you do, you are. If you don't create anything, you don't become anything. The glory if God is His creations, and the happiness of His kingdom is sharing in that glory. The closest way we can emulate God is through creation, in a very literal (and for that reason, sacred) way, through having children, but also in other, more figurative (which I also feel are sacred) ways such as music, art, poetry, writing, ideas, opinions, and even friendships.

The way you can be in control of your happiness is by being in control of what makes you happy (duh). I was talking with my friend yesterday about the difference between depending on other people to control your happiness, and letting other people be a source of your happiness. life is relationships. when you depend on other people to make you happy, it's completely one sided. They become means to an end; assets to your pleasure, placeholders and positions. You can't really love them even though you need them. but when you let other people be a source of your happiness, it's your responsibility. You can be happy through serving them. You really learn to love them because love is defined by how closely your emotions are influenced by those of the other person; when they are happy, you are happy. Lust is an experience, but Love is a creation. The way you feel about people is your responsibility. You can't find the one you love until you serve the ones you find. You can't just wait for love to cross your path; it's not just an experience. You have to create it.

Quotation justification

I think it's funny when people use quotations like they are automatically point-proving statements. As if just because someone said something sometime makes it true. I don't know about you, but I have said a lot of stupid things in my life that right now I sure am glad aren't true. I also know a lot of people that have said some ridiculous things. Someone once told me that you should never quote somebody if you can't remember exactly who it is you're quoting. Well, take that. Anyway, maybe that means that you should always know how to correctly cite what you quote, or (and this is the way I like to think of it) you can just speak for yourself, and anyone who helped you think the way you do because of the things they've said doesn't really need to be brought up; make it your own! Here's the deal: we don't have that many words, there have been a lot of people, and people say a lot of things. Therefore, whatever you say has probably already been said. You don't need to waste your time finding out all of the people who have already said what you're saying in attempts to prove that you don't think for yourself. Maybe it helps if you want to show that someone else shares your opinion, but I'd like to think that my ideas and opinions are strong enough on their own, without the quotation crutches.

Oftentimes, after saying something funny or interesting, I am asked: "what's that from?" Well, what if it's from me? Can you believe that I came up with that on my own, right here, on the spot?! But that's never assumed. I just never get the credit I think I deserve: congratulations for thinking, I guess. That's just the problem: why do we always have to give credit for things? We're all so good at evaluating and critiquing and comparing and score keeping and grading and judging that we think we have to do it in every conversation. Who cares?! Don't worry Alex, there are enough people throwing out judgments for you to feel like you have to make your own. But because I can, here's one:

I was told today (as I have heard countless times before) and I quote: "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." I don't agree. Of course, thinking of things that way helps people to be a more productive. So, as far as intention (which apparently isn't good enough), it's not bad, but as far as my understanding, real and pure intention is characterized by its realization. I'm pretty sure that the way a lot of people understand the quotation is mostly true, but what they deem a "good intention" is just a little too liberal for me. I mean, as far as eternal destination, "...The Lord looketh on the heart." (God said that one, by the way, and I'll prove it: 1st Samuel 16:7), so good intention is good enough. Who said that pretending to want to do something and then not doing it was a good intention? That's a bad intention in my book (Hale, Alex. Alex's Book of Intentions, Random House, 2023). I just pretended that the person was telling me that dishonest intentions don't prove anything, and I was able to agree. Because when it really comes down to it, I shouldn't be so critical of people who like to quote things.

Unquote.

Rhymes with "boomerang"

For the last couple of weeks, I've had a couple of things on my mind that I've decided I really need to do: write a song, and whittle a boomerang. I haven't made any progress on either of these goals. If I write a song, it's got to be way awesome. At least to me, anyway. I'm not trying to prove myself to anybody but myself, but I won't have my own approval unless other people approve. That's why it has to be awesome. I kind of feel like I don't have anything to start from; I've never written a song before, and the only words I have in my head so far, that I want to put in a song, are "caught her eyes" to either be rhymed with or used in place of "cauterize". That's all I got. weeks... I've been thinking about this for weeks, mind you. I listen to a lot of music; I'm listening to music right now, as a matter of fact. Music is a big part of my life, that's why I want to write a song so bad.

The problems are as follows: 1) Every time I try to think of a tune, the only tunes that come into my head are songs that have already been written, and are only in there 'cause I listen to them a lot. 2) Every time I try to think of the words, ...cauterize. 3) I don't own a guitar, nor do I know how to play one. Problem #3 seems to be an adventure within itself. I've postponed learning to play the guitar so long, while listening to a lot of very good guitar players, that to start now is very frustrating; I want to be good at it already. And guitars are expensive... and the strings make my fingers numb. I realize that you don't necessarily need a guitar to write a song, but I need to be able to perform prospective song and pianos are even more expensive than guitars. Plus, you can't carry pianos around that easily... unless it's like a keytar, and I decided long ago to steer clear of that scene. I also realize that "dude playing the guitar" is a little cliché, but the thing that makes that ridiculous is when dude plays somebody else's song, especially when that "somebody else" happens to be Chris Carrabba or Jack Johnson, and they grabbed their guitar to woo the lady types.

Possible remedies for previously stated problems (I'll start with #3 because that's the biggest one): 3) Suck it up. Two of my brothers taught themselves to play the guitar, and are actually pretty good. My older brother, Alan, even writes songs which I think are excellent. There might even be a couple of guitars just lying around at my parents' house that nobody is using. I'll just take one of those back with me when I visit for Thanks Giving. 1) I'll probably only start thinking of original tunes when I'm learning how to play. 2) ... pasteurize...?

I don't think I need to explain whittling a boomerang to you. Duh.

Drawing toward humiliation

I don't go to my history of philosophy class as much as I probably should. I like the subject, but it's so late in the afternoon (4:00-4:50), that usually by the time it rolls around, I've had enough time to decide on something else to do instead. So it's no surprise that I was a little confused about the instructions for our take-home exam we had this week, since my professor probably explained it on one of those days I played hooky. The exam had five essay prompts, and we were instructed to use about 3,000 words to answer them. One of the prompts, for example, was: "Explain the metaphysics and epistemology of Plato's Theory of Forms". I'm pretty sure I rocked that one. The confusion came on prompt #4: "Sketch Aristotle’s views about the nature of the universe in terms of the four causes and the distinction between the natural world and the supernatural world." I know what you're thinking: Draw a picture. That's what I thought too. Especially when Aristotle himself drew a picture to illustrate it. So I did. I typed the prompt at the top of the paper and left the rest of it blank so I could sketch Aristotle's universe after printing the rest of the paper. It was a pretty good sketch too! I did think it was a little odd; It seemed unusual for that type of assignment, and a little out of place, but that's what it said to do! When I got to class, everyone had their own six-to-eight-page, printed and stapled packets that they were so relieved to have completed, and were in the process of proudly sharing their unique answers and approximation to the suggested word count. Before I could even sit down in my usual, unassigned desk, a classmate shoved his own exam in my face, convinced I'd be astounded by his extraordinary achievement. It didn't take long to notice that his answer to #4 was not a picture, but an essay. Slightly confused, and mostly worried, I asked to see another student's exam claiming to be interested in her conclusion to the definition of Anaximander's "apeiron" (prompt #2). Also an essay in place of #4's expected hand-sketched universe. Even from a distance, as many students thumbed through their papers in self assurance, I noticed the absence of any artwork.

Sketch: 1. verb intrans. to draw or paint a sketch. 2. verb trans. to describe roughly or briefly or give the main points or summary of. (CRAP!)

Boy, did I feel sheepish! I sat quietly at my desk too embarrassed to show my paper to anyone. I had nothing to boast about. I hated mine. I wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible, but the professor didn't even collect the exams at the beginning of class. He went right into the lecture, so I put it back in my backpack. hiding it. protecting it from inquiry. My eyes were on the lecture, but my thoughts were staring at my backpack; at my secret shame. After an hour of futile worry and inaudible, nervous laughter, I placed my paper on the pile of unblemished, sketchless exams at the front table, and left the classroom. I walked more quickly than usual in attempt to escape the humiliation that would inevitably take place in some grading office within the next couple of weeks. As if my distance would protect me. My physical anonymity would only last until the exams were returned. Judgment passed in red pen. Who knows, maybe I'm the only one who did it right. Fingers crossed!

Gibbous a break!

I like to write a lot, I guess. I mean there are a lot of things that I write. Most of it is handwritten (I tell people I write everything by hand because I'm working on my handwriting... really it's just because I'm too cheap to get a computer). Those things usually get lost or just take so long that I never finish my thoughts and I eventually throw them away in dissatisfaction. I'm never able to write exactly what I'm thinking, either. I usually get too focussed on the aesthetics of what I'm writing that my thoughts get jumbled and robotic. What?! pretty handwriting is important to me. I have a journal (also handwritten) that I try to scribble things down in every so often, but for some reason, I'm unable to break free of the ridiculous/typical/"I'm being forced to write in my journal" format, so most of what I write embarrasses me at the thought of anyone else ever reading it. Earlier this year, I had a pocket-sized journal that I'd write thoughts in as they came to me. Being pocket-sized, I kept it in my pocket and wrote in it frequently enough to become proud of and somewhat attached to it. I lost it, and was so heartbroken about it that I couldn't get myself to pony up the $8 to buy another one. very frustrating. It's brown, leather, has a strap that wraps around it, and is riddled with secrets. if you find it, give it back. So, here I am, trying to solve all of my problems by appeal to the internet. I think everyone eventually comes to that conclusion these days. eHarmony.com. Chances are I won't write in this nearly as much as I intend to, but it's better than nothing.

I had always fancied myself a good writer. I think that's because I hadn't exposed myself to that much good writing. I have two brothers that I'm finding out more and more are amazing at it. Things like blogs have helped me realize this. I have a friend that has a blog that I casually creped upon the other day, and to put it simply, I was blown away. you should check it out: Robot Hearts. Not that I didn't expect it of her. I guess I'm just learning to be a lot less selfish and to focus on the amazing talents of my friends. That's how I'll put it so I can still take some of the credit. I think the only way I'll ever write as well as these people I admire so much is practice. Why not practice for the whole world to see? Delusions of grandeur. I doubt many people besides myself will ever look at this. I still think it's a good idea, or at least am in the process of convincing myself it is.