It’d seem that a fair majority of people fit into the third category above, ranting about the evils of politicians and celebrities even as they revere them, all the while clinging to notions of their own selflessness, altruism, and moral sensitivity. This interrupt can take on interesting shapes with the consideration of the actual meaning of the very expressions popularly used to convey these notions.
For instance, there’s the phrase “for you.” Appended to statements petty and profound, this phrase is typically associated with the polite, the altruistic, even the loving. But what is really being said when “for you” is used?

“For you” is often heard in a service-related statement like, “Let me take care of that for you.” This doesn’t really convey altruism, nor is it really even polite beyond the familiar impression it has honed through use. In essence, some task will be taken over, typically because the servicer is more competent to carry out that task than the servicee. Sure, in some instances, there may be some kindness involved. For the most part, however, this form is simply a reflection of opting into a task, usually with something other than the subject’s happiness in mind. What sort of something else? Well, power.

Then we have the sense in which “for you” is used as: “I made a sandwich for you (but I eated it).” This displays intent, and any real kindness or subservience present rests with whatever else the sentiment includes. In this case, it’s the sandwich that’s nice, even if it was gobbled up before it could be given.

Then there’s “I’d do anything for you.” Something most people utter, or at least dream of uttering, a few times in their lifespan. Romantic, heartfelt, utterly selfless, right? Well no, actually, in this sense, “for you” describes a kind of transaction in which “anything” is given in exchange for the object of desire, namely, the other person. It’s a haggle at best, which may have something to do with the empirical fact that the wiser and more experienced people get, the less this phrase seems to work on them.

Can “for you” really be used in the sense in which so many people mean it –or at least think they mean it? Maybe. The idea that you love whom you’d let kill you has been presented to me as the best available way to identify love itself, and “I would die for you” is arguably similar enough to qualify. Though it skips a lot of the sentiment we’ve built up about love over the centuries, its simplicity and accuracy do seem to suffice. If you’re dead, after all, you wouldn’t be around to collect on the other part of the bargain that makes other “for you” statements take on a bit of taint. Of course, you could also argue that professing to do anything for someone else includes letting them kill you, but perhaps, in this case, cutting to the chase is the only way to really be romantic.

Those who would swear up and down that they’re not in search of power, or that they’re truly giving and selfless, will likely only become the sort of people they wish to be through giving up these notions and doing away with common connotations of phrases like “for you.”

Just as dying for another involves giving up oneself, so giving up these notions is an act of love; one that allows people to see themselves as they are, and to love and respect themselves enough to decide upon their own ideas and expressions, and to live their own lives. And I’m sure there’s at least a little paradox in the power bestowed upon those who let go of their pretensions about power.

Conversation is a sort of art, as well as a functional mechanism, with which people communicate ideas to each other and with which they also perform analyses: of the specific subjects at hand, and of the other person or people with whom they are conversing. In a recent conversation, my own analysis of the subjects at hand was marred by unstructured thought and the presence of a prima facie idea that was irrelevant to what was being discussed, and as a result, I failed to grasp the meaning of the conversation taking place. This also resulted in the other party’s analysis of my person, correctly assessing that I am an idiot. These issues, in turn, created a situation in which I proved unable to converse, and have been given the task of assessing the conversation as a whole (as this is doubtless more instructive for someone such as myself than the analysis of the actual subjects at hand, though perhaps the inclusion of said subject-based analysis can nevertheless take place within the greater context of the dissection of conversation). My repeatedly demonstrated ability to ignore the conventions of conversation and to attempt my own confused and retarded route through talking has caused significant problems in the past, and has once again shown me a distinct and serious need to respect conversation itself, as well as the people with whom I converse.

The essential issues that resulted in my failure to properly converse were those of understanding the very subject which was being discussed, and of understanding how my statements had an impact on said discussion. The context in which I demonstrated my idiotarianism began with the other party’s statement that Obama scored massively on a television show called The View (see below). The sentiment was expressed that the “guy is incredible for fuck’s sake,” an idea which I understood to mean that there was something specific about Obama that rendered him different from other people. I extrapolated on this idea of difference by imagining that said difference must make him somehow more successful, through powers of attraction, charisma, quality of speech, or quality of message, than other comparable people. I decided that these comparable people would most obviously be other presidents, as this was the only aspect of the man that stood out as his reason for being discussed so much in the world in general.

It was at this point that my prima facie idea was formed, namely, that other presidents would also enjoy a similar performance based on the simple fact that they were also presidents, and like Obama, therefore possessing a trait which makes them naturally capable of attracting vast amounts of (perhaps undue) attention. This idea assumes that the other party’s statement about Obama scoring massively is focused solely on the ratings that were discovered to correspond with the show, The View. The other party’s statements are as follows:

them: i stumbled on obama being on the view
them: and was checking their ratings.
them: obama scored massively btw, guy is incredible ffs.

Following these statements, and as a reflection of my prima facie idea, I asked a question:

me: wouldnt most presidents tho?

This question switches the subject of the conversation from Obama and his performance on the show to the hypothetical performance of other presidents had they also been featured on The View. The other party responded that no, this was not the case. The other party gave two poignant examples, as follows:

them: nixon cost himself prison.
them: ceausescu got himself killed.

These examples point out that Nixon and Ceausescu, both presidents, ended up with unfavorable results (or, at least, results far removed from the state of having “scored massively”). It is unknown to myself precisely the events or appearances to the public that directly resulted in the unfavorable results mentioned, though I am familiar with the facts that Nixon resigned (without much choice on his part) from his presidency and has been treated as a poor president and traitor in his treatment since, and that Ceausescu was killed in a popular revolution. Clearly, these facts demonstrate that unlike Obama, who has appeared on a television show and “scored massively” as a result, other presidents have not fared as well.

In response to these examples, I made the following statement:

me: but we’re talking about ratings, as in, density of people tuning in, not opinions, as in, liking the guy
me: right?

This statement demonstrates my apparent need to force the subject of the conversation into terms that will conveniently fit with my prima facie idea, creating a situation in which I can say or demonstrate whatever I wish without being bound by the constraints of conversation itself, a notion which is inherently false. My statement suggests that the examples that were given by the other party simply referenced presidents who were not liked by people in general, and that they do not constitute valid evidence against my idea that any president would fare well on The View.

Furthermore, when asked if I knew what I had changed the subject to, I attempted to maneuver the subject again through specifically stating what I had been attempting to talk about. This constituted the second blatant attempt to force the conversation into my own terms, made up on the spot, so that the idea I wished to express could be expressed with the words and in the structure I wanted, rather than yield to the attributes of the conversation at hand.

My insistence upon ignoring the rules of conversation and attempting to mold things in my own particularly uneducated and imprecise way resulted not only in the other party’s demonstration of frustration, but in his correct analysis of my person and ability, that being, poor. In recollection of previous conversations that have become more about the structure and function of conversation itself than about the subjects discussed, I realize that this mistake of conjuring a prima facie idea and expecting it to “work” regardless of the presented constraints is a mistake that I have made often. It is also a mistake that has been graciously pointed out to me on every occasion, and is one that I have indeed given thought to –but apparently, not enough thought, or more likely, not the right kind (and therefore, really, not thought at all, but something else).

In attempting to apply correct and actual thought to this issue of brute force, idiot-flavored conversation at the moment, it occurs to me that at its heart, the issue is one of a power dynamic. Within the art of conversation, ideas are expressed, analyzed, and discussed while they are refined by those conversing, allowing for the different ideas (or a single one) to gain credibility, lose credibility, garner enthusiasm, earn disdain, and any number of other transformations. In a positive scenario, this would eventually yield something along the lines of truth, if not truth itself, making the real function of conversation especially admirable. It would seem that in carrying out my poor and incorrect method of conversing, I am attempting to gain the upper hand over this process, forcing my idea or set of ideas to be acknowledged as truth without going through the necessary analysis and potential revisions and transformations that could cause it to be more truthful (or to be revealed as incorrect or otherwise lacking).

The most interesting question in this mired swamp of non-thinking and resulting sloppy, antisocial execution is that of motive, in my mind. Knowing full well the value of understanding something which is true, and also knowing full well the value of being able to do away with something that is false, it would make perfect sense for me to adore the art and function of conversation, and to treat it with proper respect in all cases. It seems to me that it can only be the case that my repeated attempts at subverting the rules of conversation and attempting to force my way through the process and come out triumphant at the other end (something which, of course, has yet to happen, and will never actually happen) are based on a desire for acknowledgment from the other party. This acknowledgment might be for any number of supposed qualities, among them likely insight, cleverness, prior understanding, and so on. Of course, in this fouled quest to attain such acknowledgment, I in fact create the correct impression that I am lacking in exactly these qualities, a fact which has been demonstrated to me numerous times and which in various other contexts I have been able to appreciate, understand, and use.

Why I have been able to see and use this information in the past, yet continue to ignore it and attempt to create something glorious (yet incorrect) in its stead when it comes to conversation, I am not entirely sure. It may be at least in part attributable to the frequency with which conversation takes place as opposed to the frequency of other contexts and situations; while I have failed in this particular way in conversation many times, the density of the occurrence within the scope of all conversation is likely lower than it is with, say, attempting to demonstrate physical prowess or creating an object. It may also be at least partly the case that I am lazier with conversation than with other tasks and functions, which may in turn have its roots in a lack of focus. Relying on incorrect, brute-force conversation that ignores the rules of the form may be a state into which I relax most of the time, avoiding disaster at the rate that I do probably only because of the patience and kindness of the other party.

I have been specifically schooled in identifying the subject or subjects of conversation, scaling them and identifying proper placement of events and meanings, and have been told multiple times to always respect and use the form of the conversation, as well as to respect various terms of art and related elements. While this may seem challenging, it is challenging in the sense that it is different than what my apparent crappy default mode would be. This gives me, I think, reasonable hope that I will manage to internalize and use this lesson, and enjoy the many benefits of correct conversation, especially given my many opportunities to converse with someone who does not have such problems. Someone who has and still might teach me many things about talking and the wide world that can be discussed with this tool.

Conversation, when executed properly, and when respected fully by myself, will doubtless be a portal through which a great deal of information and ideas reach me, and through which I may form not only correct ideas and attain knowledge, but through which I may also form and refine meaningful relationships with other people. As such, it is an immensely important element of daily living as well as life in the long-term view, and should command as much attention, focus, and ability as I can possibly give to it. That the tool should ask for my submission to its rules seems not at all too much to ask, just as the inherent request and expectation from other parties that I use conversation correctly does not seem at all too much to ask.

It is therefore a primary goal for me to approach conversation with as much skill and respect as I possibly can, and to let go the fetters of my craving false acknowledgment from other parties. I greatly look forward to applying focus and structure to my conversations henceforth, and appreciate the opportunity to write this report, that I might review it for my own edification if and when I stumble in realizing this goal’s importance. Though I have of course been shown the error of my non-thinking and my resultant non-methodologies in the past, and have not correctly used these lessons to affect a consistently positive outcome, the depth with which I have analyzed the issue at the current moment and the realization of my need to submit, an act I have demonstrated ability in in the past and which I am certain I will be demonstrating time and time again as I grow older and hopefully wiser, combine to allow me to feel confident in pursuing this goal with meaning and accuracy. As for Mr. Obama, I suspect that not a small part of the success which has resulted in his “scoring massively” is likely attributable to his own understanding and correct use of these principles.

Particip la Concursul de Proza Arhiscurta organizat de Trilema .

“What distinguishes modern art from the art of other ages is criticism.”

If this thing is so important, as it demonstrably is, if the scores of books, academic journals, societies, university departments, hell, entire movements are any indication, I’m left with the query as to why it’s such a source of complaint and conflict when trickled down to the realm of every day, of the common man, of the common experience, if such a thing in fact exists.

Many people are eager to note how accepting of criticism they are, yet they expect it to be of a certain brand, marked by various formalities that respect not an actual objective standard of quality but rather the limits of their own ability to separate themselves from the thing being criticised. Nevertheless, the brand is given a name and a semblance of order, and is referred to as “constructive criticism.” Separating this from what is apparently useless criticism (how this can be determined through any means other than the recipient deciding within the appropriate context is beyond me), proponents of this sort of variety pack pat on the back have a number of diverging ideas about how criticism should be delivered, and about what kind of consistency it out to have. Unfortunately, no one has yet developed a pasta sauce-based criticism consistency scale (I’d probably be a chunky style fan), but there may be larger tragedies in the world.

Frequently, constructive criticism advocates talk about a different yet just as ridiculous food “connection.” The “PNP sandwich,” as possibly coined or at least perpetuated by one Scott Berkun involves ensuring that everything negative one has to say is lovingly panini’d in between two slices of, well, bullshit. I remember this number from a writing course taken several years ago; while the criticism part was genuinely useful, listening to the obligatorily whipped-up warm fuzzies of bored college students was about as constructive as a tuba playing tribute to a bird chirp.

There’s also apparently a holy list of things that cannot be criticised, seeing as they are the unique and individual and irreproducible and indefensible babies of people’s inner children, begotten by some mysterious yet highly personal process or other. In some cases, this probably applies to the way someone looks in a particular aspect or how they’ve behaved, but then, these are often the very same elements that are up for criticism, and anyway, you can apply this defense to pretty much anything once you’ve crossed out of the realm of personhood and into the magical land of personality Jell-O.

Taking criticism as it comes, how it comes, and intelligently making use of it or sending it along on its merry way is a skill many of us seem to be losing in favor of trying to dictate how it gets gift-wrapped before it gets to our gullets. If you need any proof that things are really getting bad, you need but watch a single episode of American Idol, Survivor, the Real World, or any other of the perplexingly successful shows that bank on our greed for watching people get grilled.

Particip la Concursul de Proza Arhiscurta organizat de Trilema.