group dynamics: October 2007 Archives

"Erotic chaos and chaotic eroticism." The little green man embellished my summary of Open Secret, performed by the incomparable Wire Monkey.

The chaos of modern living was most marked in the second piece and in the middle of the second act: we are "bodies against steel" intoned various voices as the dancers gyrated and collided with each other, tossing about, torn from embraces, and thrown back at each other by their own as well as external forces. The sheer pleasure of being embodied was on display all evening, the joys of capability bursting against limitations imposed by - in, and through - the aftermath of mass industrialization. Emotion permeated every motion: agonies and ecstasies evoked despite the insistence that "there is no translation."

"Don't go back to sleep," we are implored - both at the beginning and the end of the show.

The party that wasn't a halloween party did (sortof) happen last night. I (as usual) weighed my options. Too tired? Such an old fart! Ok, fine, why not see how the other team really lives?

For an hour I was the only woman among a half-dozen or so apparent bachelors. According to a certain logic, I fit right in. :-) Nonetheless, when the conversation turned to talk of mothers from solicitous straight sons, I recognized some limits to mutual identification. Seeds of a horror movie were planted, until we were informed that some people had a list of other movies to make first - of an unspecified genre. Hmmm. We discussed the merits of Fear, the mtv miniseries, and the desire of such a large percentage of people to vicariously "experience" horrific events similar to those some people have actually undergone. Are these doses of self-induced, artificial, safe fear a substitute for the real fears we prefer not to confront? I am thinking of the big ones, global warming, perpetual war, unending poverty, while being aware that there are interpersonal fears as well: having a job/income, friends, a life partner... (ok, maybe this is just projection).

The trip to Israel is coming up, which elicited some questions. Do we hope for hope, or do we act as if there is hope? My somewhat circular conversation with the Cameroonian who is hoping there is hope (!) helped me clarify the core question that the conference seeks to address. Can academics really make a difference?

I have been thinking, off and on, about my upcoming presentation at Dialogue under Occupation II. I'll be talking about my observation that during the first conference, last year in Chicago, most of us as participants and workshop presenters did not engage in dialogue with each other. Actually, I can be more precise, the places where the need for dialogue was most apparent did not materialize. Instead, we privileged "discourse" in our workshop presentations, and we acted along established streams of discourse whenever areas of genuine disagreement arose. At least, this is what I witnessed. No doubt, real dialogue was occurring among at least some of the conference organizers because it is an incredible feat of courage and willpower to have arranged for this second conference to be held in East Jerusalem.

Originally slated for the West Bank, events in the region forced a move to East Jerusalem. A planned pre-conference tour to Ramallah has been cancelled. How can dialogue of any kind possibly develop in a region with such historically deep divisions? In other words, can our being there - meeting and talking from our broad intellectual knowledges and personal passions - make any kind of difference? Who knows.

At any rate, the other seed planted last night, for those attuned to the conspiracy, is for The Linus Foundation. Now, I'm not saying this idea is in competition with breaking into film production, in fact, the two possibilities are already quantumly linked. Of course, there is the matter of follow-through....

Christian posted this nine-minute video on Zeynep's Wall in Facebook. How rational are we human beings when it comes to global warming? Do we debate the "truth" of how the future "will be" (as if any of us can actually know)? Or do we invest our energy in pro-action of least risk?

I learn from Anuj all the time.

Today, VIJAYADASHMI, a celebration of good over evil. (That's us, right?!) The Society for the Confluence of Festivals in India says,

It is a time-honored belief that if any new venture is started on this day, it is bound to be successful.

Photos from an elaborate 2005 event at the Ramlila Grounds of Kapurthala. A tourist site promotes the annual event in Kullu.

Daniel Kennedy, as the Earl of Warwick, Pistol, and Governor of Harfleur ("doing it with the lights on") in the American Shakespeare Center's traveling troupe's rendition of Henry V, inspired a fall pilgrimage across western Massachusetts.

We had a little trouble getting underway. There was a battle in the Chess War (Romania vs Bhutan, 2007) and a problem with brakefluid. (Can you really use power steering fluid in lieu of brake fluid?!) The promise of pie finally got us moving...(but was it in Box #1 or Box #2?)

After the Northampton stopover,
we got underway. The sky was as amazing as the foliage.

Eventually, we arrived and were treated to Original Staging Practices (universal lighting, eleven actors playing some forty-eight roles - if memory serves, gender obfuscation, a minimal set, actors humanized through mixing street clothes, costumes, and a "pregame" musical show - in this case, "London Calling"). Audience members were also seated on both sides of the stage: our bravest members availed themselves of the opportunity.

The show was a hit. The star regaled us groupies afterwards. We lingered at the Allium Restaurant in Great Barrington as long as we could....alas. Those Aussies are off yet again.

The Graduate Employee Organization steps up action to gain a fair contract. Some 150 of us gathered at various constructions entries this past Thursday morning, and many construction workers did decline to cross our picket line. A few folks I know were there:

Our spirit was stellar:

Concurrently, a protest against the war in Iraq has occupied the campus green for the past week.

Yep, these are the boots of individual, real soldiers. The one pair I walked up to for a close-up happened to belong to a young man from Vermont.

vote if you wish:

I was described as a

"piece of lint"

(as in, cannot be shaken or otherwise scraped off) but was fed a meal described as

"hot enough to challenge but not so much as to slow you down."



Whole coriander seeds in the sauce contributed to softening the taste.
Ah, come on! Invite me again! :-)

Captain Laurel (and Crew Kent) received first spray ever on the Peep Hen, approximately 09:30 in a riptide with winds at 15-17 knots. (Note: the dodger caught about half the spray.) Eventually, in the lull between upchucks, Crew Kent put in a first reefing (partial) and - some thirty minutes later - a second reefing (nearly complete). Winds from the (north?)west whipped the waves to about five or six feet at max. We spent quite a while hove to while Crew decorated the port side of the boat.

We had multiple adventures during my mere twenty-four hour stint. I realize I severely lack situation awareness, which - at this point in my sailing career (!) is hardly surprising. My focus on the current command is clear and I think I am quick (or as quick as I can be, given whatever obstacles/incompetencies present themselves). Nonetheless, I was aware, on several occasions, of operating in a vacuum: following orders with no comprehension of their relevance, sometimes without cognizance of their urgency. Things can change so fast in a small boat on the water! Sailing involves, as discussed with Megan (Shore Support/Limosine Service) on the ride back after the Crew Change, a blend of adrenalin that is felicitous and adrenalin that is decidedly not.

Defining the boundary between the happy and unhappy kinds of adrenalin is tricky, but range of awareness and degree of perception are definitely involved. For instance, our initial magnificent sail from the boat ramp took us toward a certain (closed) drawbridge. When the Captain, having turned the boat toward shore as if circling around, said, "It's time for the anchor," I knew the anchor needed to be dropped now. As I fumbled with the chain/cleat, I experienced my mind as if it was insulated, enclosed within a bubble of non-knowledge. After the anchor caught (90 feet of line!), I took stock of the speed of outgoing tide and strength of the wind and realized uh oh! how dire the situation was (had been). We were only 100 yards upriver from several stone pylons supporting a bridge that was quite low enough to snap the mast like a toothpick. We were, in fact, already safe: the adrenalin rush which then surged through me was an almost pleasant aftereffect.

Felicitous adrenalin describes (for me!) those moments when skill and teamwork is necessary but risk is not imminent. Since the potential of risk is always present (particularly while sailing), what I mean is, one has to mess up before threat is actualized. Adrenalin from peak performance and coordinated action against challenging conditions is happy. (I choose "felicitous" as an homage to J.L. Austin, whose (1962) famous work on the performative capacity of language to actually "do things" (not just describe them) includes this distinction: "Performatives cannot be true or false, only felicitous or infelicitous" (a truncated overview of speech-act theory from Dr. Andrew Cline's dissertation, chapter two).

The moments that I enjoy best, though, are not thrilling at the visceral level of survival (e.g., danger, injury) nor the emotional satisfaction of smoothly-enacted top teamwork. My favorite experiences are the calm moments after the rush, when the wind dies down, the water becomes flat, and the beauty of the landscape overwhelms the senses. There is no more alive perception than this experience of being with the universe. The Back River near the mouth of the Connecticut in the Long Island Sound is one of these gorgeous places. The stars last night, from our anchorage behind Griswold Point, were breathtaking. Sometimes such vistas impress insignificance - oh how tiny and infinitesimally unimportant this solitary lifetime; yet after adrenalin enlivens every bodily process, consciousness of timespace is more unified and expansive. Rather than one speck "in" (and therefore separated from) the universe; I am an integral component "of" its vast complexity.

I have always felt that the action most worth watching is not at the center of things but where edges meet.

Anne Fadiman. The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down.
1997. (Preface, p. viii.)

The Review linked above does criticize Fadiman for overromanticizing some aspects of Hmong culture, history, and customs; what reviewer Mai Na M. Lee calls "the bigger issues." In particular, she criticizes Fadiman's conclusion that Hmong are "differently ethical." The phrasing itself is curious, requiring some serious parsing. The way I read the phrase, Fadiman is asserting that ethics are as foundational and valued among the Hmong as within any people. The use of "differently" (instead of the starker label of "different") - refers to the ethics being performed or based "in a different manner." It seems to me this opens up comparision on the basis of more, rather then less, similarity. Dr. Lee did not read the phrase this way, interpreting its meaning as more distancing (differencing?) than joining.

Dr. Lee has the benefit of context; I have not yet read that far. There is a Bakhtinian movement discernable here: the counterplay of centripetal and centrifugal forces in the utterances of Fadiman's book and Dr. Lee's review.