"My name is Sarah Palin, you all know me..." - Sorry, Mrs. G. (she's just the picture)

I was told today by a source from inside the classroom that "she talked about the essays and political lies etc." in class today (I am at home sick for all those who didn't notice). I hate to miss a chance to talk about politics. I think politics are fun. You can always tell when a politician is lying: its always. Everything they say is a lie, at least under my definition of the word. It's their job to bend the truth (whatever that is) every which way to make it fit the ideals of the most people. Their game is a difficult one to play, and the nature of it makes blunders all the more entertaining.



 

 Anyways my aim was not to make fun of less fortunate politicians (or was it?), it was to say something intelligent about lying. Deceiving, misleading, inventing, misinforming. I think it also includes not telling the whole truth, for that in it self is a form of misinformation. Under such a broad definition, even the simplest of truths becomes a lie. Obviously all of us have lied, on purpose or not. Now as we have read, one can categorize lies many different ways, but that itself is a lie; defining something as a category. As you may be able to see by now, discussions of lying lead to circles of paradox that we as humans can't understand or talking about without lying, misinforming, mistaking, misleading, etc. once again (at least I can't).

But that leads me to my main point. We do not have the authority or understanding to really discuss the subject, because everything we say about lies is itself a lie. I have really confused myself (which means I lied to myself?) thinking about this. I should not attempt to write while ill. Or late at night. I would say I never will again, but really, how many times have we told ourselves that lie...

"So Easy A Husband Could Do It."

Think back to a few years ago. Do you remember the ads from Geico featuring the caveman? Saving money with Geico is "So Easy a Caveman Can Do It!" It worked pretty well for them. Unfortunately for whoever ran this ad that success may not transfer when the slogan refers to husbands cooking potatoes.


This, obviously, communicates that men cannot cook. They should be the bread winners not bread bakers (or in this case, potato makers). But this wonderful product is so simple and so easy, that even husbands are able to cook it! But it is implied that without this special potato (?) men could not cook. So only women are supposed to be able to cook. Really? Before this potato came to be, men could never cook?

Throughout the past week, we have read essays about and discussed gender stereotypes which are (unfortunately) still prevalent today as clearly displayed in this ad. Women are slaves of the kitchen and men do all of the real work. As the child of parents who both work (and are both very good cooks) I find these gender stereotypes ridiculous. It seems to me that they should no longer exist in this day and age, but I suppose it is difficult to change a nation's way of thinking. Hopefully it will change with time, and men will be able to cook more than one brand of potatoes.

Not the Best Eternity...

Hell. It is not flames engulfing me for an eternity. It is not some fallen angel prodding me with a trident. It is not some special ring of torture god would prescribe for me. It is everything and nothing. It is endless pain and the lack of feeling. It is the antithesis of experience, yet the worst of them all.

As I first descend into Hell I am blasted by burning, unrelenting light. It burns every part of my being, searing me to my very core. Hotter and brighter than the largest forge, I am melted into a body of pain. At the same time, my eardrums seem to shatter as a sound wave louder and deeper than any heard on earth reaches my ears. My whole body shakes violently as it overpowers me. My skin is being torn off; slowly, brutally, down to the bone. The worst imaginable combination of stench and taste causes me to vomit up acid from my stomach, constantly replenished as necessary.


True sensory overload slowly destroys me. Just as I feel like I am numbing to the pain, it renews its vigor. I cannot take it. I beg and beg for it to stop, and just as I think I can take it no longer, it stops. I thank God, Satan, anybody who I think would listen. I relax and wonder what comes next, is that all? My body does not seem to be functioning, I cannot feel, see, smell, taste or hear anything. After days of patient waiting  for my senses to come back, I come to a horrifying conclusion: they are not coming back. There is no change, there is nothing. My mind is left to wander. Days turn to weeks, weeks to months, but before years I begin to lose my sense of time completely. The darkness, the nothingness itself begins to burn. I realize my thoughts are no longer normal, my consciousness is dying. Not only are my senses dead, by my sanity is dying quickly.

I long for anything, even that overpowering blast of ultimate pain, even just for a moment I wish for my body to be affected in some way by something. Thoughts descend into desires or impulses, both animalistic and vague, that cannot be acted upon, because I cannot do anything. I can no longer think and only know an unending lack of everything until the blasts of pain decide to return.

Caring for America

Today we read an article titled "What, Me Care?" It stated that our nation's current college students are much less empathetic then they were thirty years ago. People have been saying things like that forever: nostalgia. They miss the "good old days" from when they were younger and think that people are just getting worse. Usually there is no statistical evidence to prove their point, but this article contains some legitimate studies. While it seems like some of the studies they cite may be flawed, as a high school student, I see their point.

Both "Today's College Students Lack Empathy" and "Generation Me: Study Finds College Students Lack Empathy" say that social media is to blame. That theory is proven daily at my school. Communicating, and in some sense living, online is putting distance between people. They are willing to say more offensive things when they are not face to face. They don't connect with other people in the same way when they have discussions with people via Facebook rather than in person. And, what I believe is primarily leading to the decline of empathy, they are constantly bombarded with stories, pictures and emotional moments. They see both terrible and beautiful things constantly over both social media and on the news, which now focuses primarily on "sob stories" or the most extreme news they can find. Constantly seeing things that would have moved the previous generation to tears has made those things normal. They see them so often that they no longer have meaning.

This phenomenon has become increasingly obvious in our society. People don't care about each other like they used to; they have a tendency to personalize everything. Their feelings towards others do not compare to their own. It has gone so far that movies have been made on the subject of the decrease in empathy and kindness in American society. Social media and the internet in general and a large part of this problem, and "What, Me Care?" brings up issues that we must be wary of as a society, or it will only get worse.

*Insert Clever Title Here*

Both of the essays we read yesterday (or today) both present a problem that we as a society have no solution to right now. Kozol asks in "Human Cost" if "we possess the character and the courage to address a problem which so many nations, poorer than our own, have found it natural to correct?" Can we solve our country's illiteracy problem? We have yet to find a solution. The excerpt is both moving and disturbing. The dream Kozol relates to the reader in the beginning of the excerpt about being stuck in Russia without a translator helps them understand better what it would be like to be illiterate, because it is difficult for most people to imagine not being able to read. The reader must pity the people who have grown to adulthood without learning to read because the examples he provides are terrible to comprehend. Humans without the ability to read are almost as inhibited in their everyday lives as those without smartphones.

In "On Compassion," Ascher brings up the problem of homelessness in our country. While discussing homelessness is not the main focus of her essay, the men she describes are homeless and in need of aid. Her two main examples in the essay are two different homeless men. The first is walking on the street when a woman tries to hand him a dollar out of compassion (or fear). At first he does not know how to react, but accepts the money. The second homeless man walks into a restaurant and is handed some coffee and some bread. It is habitual, rather than a one time incident. Ascher also mentions a good-intentioned effort to house the homeless in a hospital during winter that she did not think was workable. She thinks it is wrong to force them to go anywhere; it violates their rights. Good intentions are not always enough, and in this case she believes the governments' efforts were not helpful, as the efforts of the government to have an educated citizenry are shown to have failed in "Human Cost." Both essays bring up an issue that most people don't realize the extent of because it seems impossible to them, but through use of well-chosen examples lead the reader to have a better understanding of the topic.