blink (blink)

Today was a day that my working on working was working. I went onto campus and saw a talk on fossil birds, then a discussion on the evolution of butterfly wing sizes. I submitted a job application, an abstract for a meeting, and sent in some requested comments on something someone had written on fungus-growing termites in Africa, as per my deadline.



I mean, what a day! I was like a biologist or something, doing what I was trained to do for once. It almost felt a little creepy.

Not only that, but I wasn’t late for anything. Nor obscenely early. By 6:50pm, I found myself in the campus union, crossing over to the Biology Dept. to see some Famous Biologist famously give some special talk at 7:00. Ten minutes to spare! As Thursdays go, this all seemed quite unprecedented.

So feeling free, feeling smug even, I picked up the campus paper to see what the world had to offer. (I have to grimly admit, the overturned Ford Explorer on the front page caught my attention). I opened to a random page a saw that in 10 minutes Malcolm Gladwell, The New Yorker writer, was going to give a talk just a few 100 yards away from where I was standing.

*Decision made*

I had been a good trooper all day, but as Science goes, Malcolm is far more my kind of empiricist, curious about things for the right reasons – because things are mind-blowing, and almost make sense, but not quite. Because they are interesting, but you don’t know exactly why. So ask, ask, just ask. then maybe ask again.



The room/atrium thing he was speaking in was already packed like a moving van, because our Mr. Gladwell, he is a hot ticket. There has been a lot of press recently on his hair, his new kooky 'fro. I walked to an obscure corner in the standing-room-only crowd, only to find him there (and me here) in a position arm's length! where I could touch the famous Malcolm Coiffure if I wanted to. It loomed in front of me, because as he was ensconced in the corner, sitting and crouched, signing some books before the talk.

...
He talked about his new book, “Blink,” which seems to be all about split-second, and first-impression, decisions. Having just made one to come to the talk, I naturally felt gratified. He shared an anecdote from his book about how once the Munich philharmonic used a canvas screen during auditions for a new trombonist, resulting in the first woman ever becoming a member of the symphony, much to the maestro’s dismay. Gladwell discussed the efficacy of physical screens or other things to obscure our snap-judgement biases based on skin color, looks, height, sex -- indeed, those things that might not really effect whole well you might play the trombone, or anything else, really.



It reminded me of the idea of the “veil of ignorance” that the philosopher John Rawls came up with in trying to develop an ethics of a just society. And here was the physical veil, coming up again and again in Gladwell’s talk.

He made the case that juries shouldn’t see the accused, and that this would no doubt change the racial bias in conviction. and no doubt he is right. with that and other things besides.

...
An older woman in a red dress asked a question at the end of the talk.

“One comment and one question, actually,” she said.

I suppose you know after all the symphonies started using canvas screens at auditions, and the number of women hired historically increased, they started to use screens raised three inched from the ground...?

...So they could see the auditioners shoes, you see.”

Ah. hm. touche.
What are the hopes for an equitable, Rawlsian society where we measure a person by the weight of their talent--rather than their girth, sex, race or anything else? I guess it depends how much you are allowed to peek…

At the least, it recommends avoiding heels at any upcoming symphony auditions, or some blindness of a generous sort.

What is this?

and More

the hyperlink

I am working on a job application right now, where after a preliminary round, I’m being asked to write a course syllabus up for a class to be called “The Human Event.” I've been informed that the goal of this class is to have students, “think critically and seriously about the nature of human existence.” An admirable goal for a 3 credit-hours.

And the human event is an event in the making-- made, unmade, making out. Anthropologists, I wonder if it would be fair to that for a good half or more the 20th century the human event has been analysed through the lens of small group living ,and its naturalness. Of then the group and its social links as a structural reality that mediates human culture and identity.


Given this, given jet planes, telephones and the internet, what is a natural social reality now? I mean right now? If the hunters-and-gatherers of yester-year seemed to exist generally in groups of 50-300 people, in-the-flesh, everyday, I-know-your-2nd-cousin kind of groups, then it seems a lot has changed at least for the American Modern; it is a social life and identity now aerosolized into a peculiar kind of mist. Full of new possibilities, of coincidence, of something very different. of some completely other kind of recognition. But maybe I speak only of my own take on it.

Maybe I speak to this web-log, this paper boat, a folded sheet of wood-pulp floating on an ether sea of electron waves. I started putting entries here mainly for the distraction of some friends whose numbers are of the single digit sort (hi Rob, Jeff, Jen). But strangers come across the boat too, occasionally adding a friendly comment or nudge, often simply as "anonymous."

(paper boats at P.S.1 in NYC)

I came across Audra’s web-log, “Budapest and the Rest," through her comments to this log, and I imagine she through to me by the fact we use the same blog service, in a comaraderie of technology. I check into her web-log to get a refreshing dose of the Magyar life of someone I don't even know. Of something far away and completely unrelated to me. Sometimes it almost feels like reading someone else's mail, or a letter simply addressed to "you all." And so maybe that is what my web-log is as well, I wonder -- a letter with vague address?
…

I was reading a recent post about some contemporary art in Budapest involving, of all contemporary things, tampons. In writing about the problem some men have in engaging over this facet of life, Audra mentioned a certain “Vinnie” as an enlightened male.

Vinnie?
Well, his name was conveniently hyperlinked, so:
(click, click)

And it is a Vinnie of apparent “tampon case” fame (!)

But wait, something is strange, and it is not the retro tampon case. No.
Who is that woman holding the case with such verve in the left hand corner?..... I know her!

(In fact, I know her)
Or rather, I know who she is.
…

Even though I’m sitting down in the coffeshop, I think I need to sit down again, because I am reading about tampons in Budapest on the internet only to click on a link that pops R.’s face on my screen. I swear it is R., if for no other reason, the left-coiled coif that is verging on “beehive” that is pretty unmistakable. And I was riding in R.’s car to the primate center the other day. to look at lemurs. for a women’s studies class that I am sitting in on. that my friend Jenny is teaching. and what-the-hell?

So I know the woman in the photo. or actually just kind of know her. we discuss feminist science theory >but I really don't know her at all >but she is now here on my laptop screen, which is…which is this other context of Knowing where I can know a fair bit about people that I don't know hardly at all.

Writing it out now, I'm sure it reads as pretty unremarkable. But at that hyperlinked and most unprepared moment, you must understand that this confluence of place, space, time, people, context, and hypertext some how hit my mind like some zen koan, all bright purple and impossible.

I mean, these paths that make no sense lead you back to you in ways unpredictable, the real distance of continents a virtual distance, transformed into a utterly unexpected and local association. It’s like saying goodbye to someone boarding a plane only to find them working the toll booth on the way out of the airport parking garage.


It is almost too much? maybe too little. it is this new possibility of casually knowing more and more about people and events that we, as a trend, know actually less and less about. And it isn't just the internet. The comments we overhear, the conversations we remember, the references, associations, they all leave us shadow-knowing so many people and things we don't, won't, or have no want, to know.

This feeling is true for me, so I imagine equally for you. You the anonymous reader, that is.

What is this. If anything, it seems to be the human event. at least the 1st world human condition, a rumoured society of global acquaintances that I think the my ancestors nestled in the Yangtze river plain or Carpathians knew nothing of, though for better, worse, either, or, I can't really figure. Needless to say though, I’m trying to work Audra’s blog into the syllabus now. and of course, Vinnie too, who R. tells me is doing very well with his business...

Roosters in the House

As months go, February is actually packing serious heat. Not only does it carry Abe Lincoln's and Georgie Washington’s birthdays, but it also is blessed by the glowing presence of The most important holiday of the year—
Yes, that’s exactly right, Chinese New Year.

It is forgivable if you mistakenly thought that when Dick Clark dropped the Times Square apple that it was something other than a false start. Awfully trashed or awfully mirthful/less, when you were conniving that resolution you will not keep or scheming a midnight kiss, that may have been a matter of a Happy 2005. But burn a joss stick for your ancestors, roll out the Double Happiness, and let’s get on with it folks -- take pleasure in this Happy Year of 4702.

I can’t imagine what People’s Republic must have been like this last week as people packed trains to head back home. You are one of over 1.4 billion; what do you wish for?

"I hope my work will go smoothly and my parents will have good health," civil servant Liu Yijue told the French news agency AFP.

Cheers to comrade Yijue for keeping it both real and simple.
small and meaningful hopes carry a better weight in your hand.

***

It’s year of the Rooster. And what will that mean for you age-divisble-by12 people? Well, it seems the following is true of you:

"a hard worker; shrewd and definite in decision making often speaking their mind. Because of this, you tend to seem boastful to others. You are a dreamer, flashy dresser, and extravagant to an extreme."

And what would be the best livelihood for such a personality, beside say the life of Elton John or Madonna?

"Born under this sign you should be happy as a restaurant owner, publicist, soldier or world traveler."

huh.

***

My housemate C. has apparently been throwing these Chinese new year parties for a few years now. It seems she started the personal tradition in Germany, an obtuse detail that somehow only makes it that much more perfect. C. and her friend Rose decided to you be reasonable and invite around 200 people; almost half of that filled the house Saturday night. Luckily old houses have floors that can handle the dancing that comes with that.


I invited only a couple folk, a true minority amongst the hordes, but at least a couple dressed to kill, like Laxmi here.


Sure, the get-up was mainly for another party later on, but that doesn't matter as much as the fact that the rhinestones in her belt buckle spell out her name. A rooster and its strutting crown ain’t got nothing on that action. Take notes you chicken koop fools.

***

The traditional red envelopes were passed out as party favors. Usually with a nice sum of folded cash, these particualr ones included polite suggestions for revelry. For example, the card in the envelope I chanced on read: “Find someone you’d like to have sex with and take a shot.”
((hm.))

I assumed 'the shot' was referring to “Red Star” Chinese liquor from one of the wooden cups lingering around the crowd, but maybe I’m limiting my horizons with this interpretation? I actually passed on the Red Star this time. This seemed for the best anyway, for as C. reminded me, on first meeting as housemates we got a little blotto on the stuff, resulting in a decision of infinite wisdom to paint the bathroom ceiling *right then* and through the early morning. that particular Fire Water is best avoided.

***

And even roosters sleep. I mean, they need rest before crowing at some other ungodly and limnal hour.

So once everyone leaves a 4 a.m., the idea of brushing your teeth and going to bed is the best sort of idea. While debating the virtues of flossing before or flossing after brushing with someone crashing at the house that night, I went to spit-n-rinse, only to find the foreshadows of yet another holiday that this month harbors...



oh, right.
What should it mean to find a tiny red heart staring at you from the bottom of your bathroom sink when your just about to spit a mouthful of minty suds right onto it?

Don’t over think it, that little bright heart. Riding down the drain or holding tight to the white enamel, it is what it is. so take hold, give away, and please be kind on this February 14th.
Rooster says so.

Ecto-parasites, Almond Joy, and Henry Moore

The academic job search is an awkward creature. Legs longer than they are short, fur a little tufty, and eyes kinda wandering. but compelling for all those reasons.

As someone who is currently on this search for the perfect kind of job, or really even for one that seems to offer a reasonable and right livelihood, I forage. Besides putting my ear to the wall, I also rummage through various internet sites. I track through the woods of hyperlinks for a fat winter rabbit. I liken the job lists to ciphered Kabbalistic code just waiting to be cracked, hollows opened, the secrets of happy employment encrypted suchly.

One source around which I’ve formed a nicotinish habit is the Chronicle of Higher Education. The ads sometimes have the aura of a Personals posting in being a mixture of overly specific and terribly vague, with a real sense of expectation hanging there uncomfortably. Even though it is the NY Times of the higher-ed world, it still finds its way towards an honesty subversive and critical enough to provide the kind of skinny you need to understand life in the hard, seemingly La-Tee-Da, world of “the Academy.”

I appreciate the first person columns written by people under the protection of pseudonyms telling of the vagaries of academic life, especially so the diary columns written by current job seekers that chronicle the Byzantine process of trying to get a decent teaching gig.

I actually submitted an entry early last fall to see if they’d pay me the $500 dollars per column to tell of my job search. That didn’t happen, but I recently re-read the piece I’d written, the following question posed:

Had I at times been complacent towards carefully examining my own professional goals and interests? Probably so. Had I been exceptionally complacent? Probably not. Given the course of graduate training, I think I fall in the range of “predictably naïve."

Can't say for sure if anything has changed since then. you know, Qualitatively. but I would trade my new found self-awareness for a position right about now (attn: Dr. Bartha at UBC, if you are reading this...)

In the meantime, I come across some pretty interesting job openings and imagine other possibilities my Dopplegangers may be pursuing. Here is an intriguing sample three that, given the necessary skills, I’d give a try.
why not? anything for the sake of Science, I say; anything anything say-I-said, Knowledge Be Sublime...

--------(1)-----------
Virginia Commonwealth University
JOINT FACULTY POSITION
Departments of Sculpture and Mechanical Engineering

The Sculpture Department and the Mechanical Engineering Department at Virginia Commonwealth University are seeking a dynamic and energetic faculty member for a shared tenure-track faculty position. Applicants must possess either an MFA or equivalent in Sculpture (or a closely related discipline) or a Ph.D. in Mechanical Engineering (or a closely related discipline). The candidate will teach in both programs and should be conversant in contemporary art and mechanical engineering and posses a significant record of achievement in their respective field. Particularly attractive is experience that demonstrates an ability to initiate interdisciplinary research and educational synergies among diverse areas.

--------(2)-----------
Georgia Southern University
Job Title: Curator of the United States National Tick Collection
Job Number: 507597
Date Posted: 11/15/2004

Curator of the United States National Tick Collection
The Institute of Arthropology and Parasitology, Georgia Southern University, invites applications and nominations for the position of Curator of the United States National Tick Collection (USNTC). It is the largest tick collection in the word, with over 123,500 tick collections housed in the Institute. This is a twelve month, senior research position.. Candidates must have knowledge of systematics, research experience with ticks, and computer skills.

--------(3)------------
Job Description:

Masterfoods USA, a division of Mars, Incorporated, a well respected market leader in the Snackfood, Petcare and Food industries with leading brands such as, M&M'S®, SNICKERS®, MILKY WAY®, SKITTLES®, PEDIGREE®, WHISKAS® and UNCLE BEN'S®, is currently seeking:

Applicants for a two-year post-doctoral position within R&D. Applicants must have a doctoral degree in analytical biochemistry, medicinal chemistry, or a related field, with research experience specifically in the area of phytonutrients and functional foods. Applicants for this position would be required to have a working knowledge of the basic principles of chromatography, including, but not limited to, HPLC and GC, combined with a working understanding of various analytical detectors including electrochemical, fluorescence, diode array, and mass spectrometry. In addition to a strong analytical background with hands-on experience in method development, the successful candidate must also love candybars and easycook rice. OK, I added that last line.



feel the Learning, people. Feel it.