I think our generation… by which I mean…
Ah. Now you see – lately, when I come to think, or write something, I can get all tied up in knots because I now insist on categorising the concept in quite tight terms before I move into rant or pondering mode. Teaching has taught me that it is no good whatsoever assuming everybody knows what I am on about, I have to first check understanding, and clarify meaning.
Today, in class, we were talking about Power. I had to clarify that I was talking about power in a personal sense, rather than power in a professional or status sense, although there is that power too. We then moved on, all starting from the same page, hopefully… This evening I realised I had not written A Thing all week. This is a disaster on many levels, but you’ll be glad to hear I won’t define and categorise the substrates now; after all you may only have landed here by accident, expecting nice retro images or something, rather than a rather abstract meander about the Wittgenstein proposition that:
Actually, I don’t believe it, and, in the end, neither did Wittgenstein. There are many more fundamental ways to communicate than through words because, yes, they do limit us, it’s just that, just as we get caught up in thoughts, so we get caught up in words – expressing ourselves through language. We forget that there are other ways to express our feelings and intentions – our heart, soul too, if you believe in one.
This post was to talk all about how my generation has had a lot of techno gizmo work fast fast fast stuff to get on top of in our lifetimes, and my peers, like me feel that we may have reached a tipping point in our heads… that point where we say, you know, perhaps I don’t have to stay on top of all this now. Perhaps I can’t keep on top of it all now. Perhaps… there’s more to life than being able to interface with all kinds of technology in ever-efficient ways. Maybe, maybe it would be better for our wellbeing to just let some of it go.
So what if I can’t manage my Twitter timeline or feed properly. Heck, I don’t even know the difference between the two terms, or if there is one. And, the truth is, I don’t think I care. Not that much.
Maybe it really is time to go retro, just a little, at least at weekends, and let the world whizz by, if it wants.
Doing my annual King Canute impression. Aggregate score so far: Sea 42 – Me 0.
Unfair, as it always has the home advantage #time&tide
Cardiff University sewed kittens eyes shut in taxpayer funded experiments http://ow.ly/cs562 Like virtually all vivisection – pointless
Resisting the strong urge to tell the rest of the beach to sit down and SHUT UP.
Bet King C didn’t have to put up with sunseeking plebs.
Realise I am turning into my mother. I love her, but still, oh dear #notready
There is some eye-watering gusset action down here. Girls, check your rear view before leaving home, I beg you #southend
Lovers’ tiff. Man wearing sweater on head – she’s conducting face to face argument and tel con simultaneously. Multi-tasking emotions
She’s off phone, employing finger pointing tactic. He’s shouting, sweater still on head.
Bit early. #chill
‘It’s Southend – no-one cares. No-one is going to check you out’ #shockhorror #southend #Icare
‘Where’s the sea? Where’s the sea?’ ‘I’ll take you for a walk to find the water…’
Chelsea FC beach towel, Harrods carrier bag, deckchair hire, still arguing. Still wearing his sweater as a yashmak. Still #dre
‘You have to wait 20 minutes for your food to go down.’
Do you? Oh dear, I’ve been doing the wrong thing my whole life.
Illegal spaniel on the beach alert. Tut.
Stuck here now until the argument ends or the tide comes in, whichever is sooner.
Sweater removed from head: argument over. All smiles. Yay. Says he can’t swim.
Tide’s close enough now to see its line of scum. Doesn’t seem to put people off going in. Parents bawling at their kids behind me.
The danger of an adventure is worth a thousand days of ease and comfort
Argument man wears his black woollen socks in the sea.
Wet socks, caked in sand = interesting look
Wearing socks in the sea, now that’s an adventure.
Sea 42 – Me 1
Tide turns in my favour, for now. Another adventure.
Is beyond the likes of me, so sometimes, when I start to remind myself of a clanging bell, I try for some silence. I say try for, maybe I don’t even do that, maybe silence knows when it is time to come and visit and I am still learning to accept the wisdom in the still quiet; to sit with it, hear it and know it, without falling back to fill my world once again with the familiarity of noise and bustle. That world, the place where we do and think, with no real action or thought. Or maybe that’s just me.
On the other hand, perhaps it’s not just me. I found this poem via Twitter and whilst I cannot express the ineffable, I feel that Rumi, the 13th Century Persian mystic poet has done just that.
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about
language, ideas, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.
I was walking the girls to school yesterday with @andygosling. We were discussing creative type stuff which included recent books read. I recommended one of my current reads, and it being before 8 in the morning, and us both being on Twitter
I said: oh I’ll tweet it if I remember.
And, amazingly, I did:
And then I got on with the day, with only the usual amounts of procrastination. That evening I found this tweet @me from Dr Piers Steel the author of The Procrastination Equation.
Perhaps you had to put the Procrastination Equation down for a moment to properly absorb the ideas? That’s my guess.
Well I was a bit thrown by this. I’ve heard of fans stalking celebs, but authors keeping their readers up to the mark is a new one on me. Eventually, after a small amount of procrastination, I cobbled together a somewhat contrite reply. I was caught red-handed reading another book after all…
@pierssteel I think it was my limbic system overriding my pre-frontal cortex. Again. I’ll get back to it, I promise!
@makemeadiva ha, ha. You have read a chunk of it at least.
This may be Twitter’s finest hour so far.
- Protesters have failed to stick to the agreed route.” To be fair, neither did the Lib Dems
- Student protester ‘not prepared to have her dreams broken’
- Putting individuals into debt to get the government out of it: go figure
- Protesters are advised that toilet and water facilities will be in Great George Street for those in the containment
- There’s a massive fire in Parliament Square – police believe it may be Nick Clegg’s pants
- Student on BBC: “When the next election comes we will be old enough to vote and we will not forget that they betrayed us