Monday, September 22, 2014

Wonder Full

Sacks, Leakey, and Lewin all have lessons to teach us in this week’s readings, not to mention nostalgic childhood perspectives to lend us.  Although Sacks’ story doubles as a science lesson as well as a life lesson, the Leakey/Lewin story provides an inside look into the passion that propels excavation and ancient discovery.    From enigmatic unveilers of our ancestry, to eccentric inspirers of chemistry, the common theme is unconditional admiration for the universe in both Origins Reconsidered and Uncle Tungsten.

             The narrator of each story idolizes someone who was inspirational and instrumental in getting them interested (or further along) in their current field of study.  Sacks displays his idolization for his uncle as childlike wonder, never questioning, and more importantly never tiring, since not all young boys would take an interest to their peculiar uncle’s metal ravings.  Uncle Dave is the most ideal mentor a kid could have, someone who is genuinely in awe with their day-to-day work.  All knowledge should be inherently fascinating, because it’s the literal acquisition of something that was previously unknown.  Unfortunately, conveying that knowledge is an art in itself, and all too often is the knowledge lost in delivery.  However, when a special teacher like Uncle Dave comes along, knowledge piles itself into the mind almost without permission, because this isn’t just learning, this is doing.  Consequently, knowledge attained in this manner tends to stick—for life.  And why shouldn’t it?  When we recall pleasurable experiences, it feels more like reliving that moment instead of mere remembrance.  Sacks gets to relive his childhood hands-on knowledge about various metals at any point in his now adult chemist career, instead of looking up his old college chemistry notes.  Far more effective and less time consuming I’m sure, plus with each recollection Sacks gets a little sip of the magic that he first felt when his eyes were opened to the world of chemistry.  The lesson in this story is if you truly love what you’re doing, others are bound to be infected by your own sense of wonder and admiration, and this can set a domino effect of knowledge into motion.

            In Origins Reconsidered, the idolization from the narrator is peer to peer.  However, that doesn’t detract from the feeling of youthful awe that the Sacks piece echoed. Leakey’s co-worker, Kamoya Kimeu, is described as the absolute fossil finding guru.  His talents are described as “legendary” (191) and seem to exceed human ability.  To sharpen that image even further, Kamoya is portrayed (at least in this short excerpt) as a man of few words, with a mind reserved only for treasures in the earth.  As the reader, I’m imagining a very spiritual dude who is literally in touch with the earth, to the point that she’ll whisper her secrets to him and him alone.  Now obviously that’s my imagination’s interpretation, but even so, the makeup of this enigmatic character lends an equal sense of mystery to the story as a whole.  This raises an interesting challenge for me as a writer that I had never considered for science writing.  Perhaps when the story by itself is only awe inspiring for its author, adding in characters (in our case, scientists/researchers/professors) that embody that sense of awe can ultimately contribute to relating awesome elements to the reader.  This story should have already been awesome standalone with just the facts and discoveries, but the fact is that without the human element the story would fall short of entertainment.  The lesson in this story lies outside the text for me, which is that when your work comes across as less than fantastic, take a step back and rediscover why you found it to be fantastic in the first place.  Maybe it’s the place or people surrounding the topic, or a particular way it was introduced to you.  Chances are if you can remind and re-inspire yourself, you can inspire your readers too.   

            

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

You Believe That?

First I’d like to say that the Science News Brief assignment was much less intimidating than I expected.  As a dominantly creative brained person, there is always a fear of writing something that I would hate to read, but writing it anyway because…well…it’s due pretty soon.  This assignment was a good reminder that creativity and factual elements can be blended together to make an enjoyable read.  It also helps to be an inadvertent subject of your own study, because it makes it easier to give real life metaphors that can speak to more than just the scientist.  And maybe that’s part of the beauty that Heisenberg is talking about, “the proper conformity of the parts to one another and to the whole.”  Scientists conforming to scientists and writers conforming to readers simultaneously.

I can relate to Sagan’s approach in The Demon Haunted World.  This isn’t so much science writing as it is social commentary, which I am guilty of when I don’t understand what the hell I’m supposed to write about.  It’s pretty easy to twist any prompt into a “and this is why the world sucks, because facebook” or “this is why religion sucks, because science.”  But I must admit, I’m a sucker for negativity and one hit KO’s to the hopeful and optimistic.  I’m not saying that Sagan’s essay was a bratty rant like my writing sometimes is, but I do think that he intended to be patronizing to the self indulgent.   I eat that shit up, because I self indulge and like to be put in my place as a reader.
“Every time we test our ideas against the outside world, we are doing science.  When we are self indulgent and uncritical, when we confuse hopes and facts, we slide into pseudoscience and superstition.” (241)  If only Sagan could have been present for one dinner with a particular nutjob stepmother, I might have been sent to my room to study, not repent.  It’s such a simple line, but so critical for separating how we wish the world was, and how it actually is.  This quote fires on a different level too, breaking down the intimidation factor in the word “science.”  Science isn’t strictly lab coat rigor, it’s observing and testing the universe against itself.  It’s a relief to know that if we are thinking people (as opposed to herded sheeple) then we are already in the beginning stages of scientific discovery.
To finish this post, I want to comment on an even simpler line than my previous paragraph discussed.  The commandment of science that says, “Mistrust arguments from authority.”  This commandment should be applied to every field, in every situation.  Some days I only come to class in hopes of getting to call bullshit on a professor.  I don’t get the opportunity as much as I’d like these days, probably because the further along in education you go, the more careful instructors are to never claim anything as completely true.  Still, I come into each class knowing that something ridiculous will be said and unquestioned, and it keeps me on the edge of my seat trying to catch that moment.  Similarly, I come into class knowing that there is someone smarter and more patient than myself, and they will call bullshit on me.  In this regard, everyone doubting everyone is not a negative situation.  For me, it brings me to class, makes me listen twice as hard, and reminds me to calculate each word before I open my mouth.  My doubt is my education.     

        

Monday, September 8, 2014

Thinking Myself Out Of Existence

Graves
I was not aware that the accountability of rhetoric as an epistemic tool was ever up for debate since B.C., which made me want to read quickly to get to the “against” arguments.  Before I got that far, I double checked that I still agreed with the “for” side, and Michael C. Leff summed up my feelings exactly, “rhetoric is epistemic since knowledge itself is a rhetorical construct.” (108) That checks out with me, despite the chicken or the egg dilemma it presents.
  Or at least it did check out with me, until Cherwitz reminded me “there is a reality independent of us, a reality that cannot be willed into existence nor wished away.” (108) Unfortunately, I believe this as well, but fortunately I cannot think myself out of existence, but unfortunately if I could my existence would continue to exist whether I tried to think about existing or not.  Through all that fog, it is clear that Graves is about to undertake a seemingly immeasurable concept.  This is fascinating as a reader, and I’m excited to watch Graves basically try and unravel infinity.
 

If rhetoric actually is what it is, then my opinion holds that it is always epistemic.  However, the fact that we are human muddles this opinion.  I suspect that this will be a recurring issue in science, the fact that just because we delineate a sensation with a term, does not mean that there is any validity to it.  If a reality exists whether we do or not, then it really doesn’t matter whether we use rhetoric because it’s all made up and the universe carries on either way.  Be that as it may, the term rhetoric serves its purpose here and now as a foundation for spreading understanding about what we can perceive as humans, even if it doesn’t necessarily create reality.

Fisher
The preface to this article, written by Fisher, sets the reader up nicely to leave a fair amount of baggage at the door before diving into some pretty dense concepts.  Fisher sets his rhetorical situation up nicely, explaining that each subsequent work of his refines the last.  This instills a bit of trust in me as a reader, knowing that this is not merely another article; this is Fisher’s life work.  Furthermore, the admittance that this essay is merely framework and thus not as “compelling” (378) as it has potential to be in the future lends additional credibility to Fisher.  This is a useful way to set tyrannical readers like myself up for consensual acquisition of wisdom, instead of skepticism met with some other fellow’s definition of “truth.”
One of the elements that make this article a little challenging to comprehend is the specificity of its nature.  Before the main issue can be presented, several key points must be defined in order to understand the content.  Even with terms defined, the concepts are not easily digestible for the layman.  That makes this article intended for a very specific audience, which puts its entertainment factor into context.   As for the content of this article, Fisher is thorough in both of his in depth explorations of the narrative and rational paradigms.  He gives suggestions of how we can lay the framework for reconsidering what is reasonable and rational, while reminding us that this is merely a concept that needs far more attention if it’s to mature into being.

Thomas
What better way to captivate an audience than to make your article revolve around wonder?  Thomas’ tone invites the reader to sit down with a drink and daydream about truly awe-inspiring things in the universe, and it’s pretty easy bait to take.  It’s mostly a given that writers love to think and let their thoughts take them away, as it is for readers, so this article serves as a rare example of writing that should not be met with much criticism.  I comment often on what does (or doesn’t) lend an author credibility, but in an easygoing article like this where the premise is clearly an opinion, I’m happy to be along for the ride.
Thomas immediately establishes a grandiose objective by referring to the original Seven Wonders of the world as, “old, out of date” (220) wonders.  This effectively sets the parameters for Thomas’ forthcoming list as massive—massive enough to dwarf the pyramids and the whole lot.  As if this wasn’t enough anticipation, the reader is told that the largest wonder will be mentioned very last.  Hook/Line/Sinker.

This article has a brisk sense of energy and excitement that pulls the reader along all the way to the promised climax without losing momentum, and as the final wonder is revealed, there is a compulsory need for pause and reflection.  When at all possible within science writing, I would like to emulate that sense of lingering wonder in my readers.     

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Same Sex Bird Boning (and other less interesting articles)

Mooallem

Just from the get-go, this article has a hook with it's title.  The Love That Dare Not Squawk Its Name is tantalizingly ambiguous, and made me want to press on to figure out if the story was as good as the imagery the title evokes.  And in short, it totally was.

You be so quiet, and so still.


The basic issue in this article is us.  We tend to only know how to measure and categorize everything around us in human terms; terms which often have nothing to do with the "natural" world.  While it is a bit of a DUH! that humans measure the world according to human knowledge, it opens up a door for me as a reader to more clearly see human bias toward an animal subject.  It's a useful thing to know for writing future science articles, since so much of what interests us lies outside of human understanding.  If I end up writing about animal behaviors, it's important to remember that (as far as we know) animals don't carry guilt, or experience suspicion, or give a shit whether you prefer hetero or homo relationships. Animals simply are, and do whatever they feel like without regard to human social construction. Robert Heinlein once said, "Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig."  This concept applies to painting nature into a human box.  It's a waste of time, it reveals nothing but our own human bias, and if the birds had any way of knowing what we were doing, i'm sure they'd experience whatever animals liken the human sensation of annoyance to.

This article is set up with a pleasing ratio of crass language to scientific results, making it easy to forget that we are essentially reading a study.  Interest tends to linger longer for me if the writing makes me live the piece instead of swallow it.  It was pretty easy to feel like I was the author of this article, since he took some hilariously candid quotes from some of the scientists as well as a few of his own snarky observations.  We rarely hear scientists talk about personal things such as how being gay affects (or doesn't affect) their work, and rarely do we hear a biologists refer to themselves as dorky.  It's refreshing to get a blunt perspective on the people doing the research, and makes it a little easier to connect to.  This is certainly an element that will be in all of my writing for this course.

Polanyi

It seems to me that this article was required reading only for the stark contrast to Mooallem's article.  This article is rigid, academically rigorous, and without imagination.  This article is, however, directly to the point, and you could actually summarize it just by reading the title.  I started out reading every word, but after the dramatic, "Our vision must conquer or die" statement, i've checked out as a reader and have started skimming.  Although this article is a few decades old, and language was a little different back then, a statement so dramatic immediately reveals that the author is too emotionally involved for me to not be skeptical about his credibility.  
Polyani's Peers

Ironically, this exact feeling I get towards Polanyi is the argument he makes about scientific conflicts, that people's "extraneous interests interfere[ing] illegitimately with the due process of scientific enquiry."  Due to the fact that my personal opinion is that Polanyi uses cringe-worthy dramatic wording, I am part of the issue he addresses.  Whether i like the way an author writes or not, i'd like to work on not being such a reluctant audience, and accept that if something is written by a human, it will inevitably have human emotion put into it.  That being said, I realize pointedness is a relatively common sought after quality in science writing so that you don't have to wade through flowery bullshit just to get the facts.

Diamond

This short article was a fun read due to the nature of it's question.  However before the question was even revealed, I was captivated by the imagery of Australians riding into battle on kangaroos to conquer Eurasia.  It's this type of outside the box suggestion that can make the difference between reading thoroughly and skimming.  This article shows that sometimes saying absurd things can draw in an audience just to see if you're going to continue being absurd, or connect absurdity to reality.



Hancock

Hancock touches on what i've already said about both the Mooallem and Polyani articles regarding title, that our eyes quickly skim through the ordinary in search of something extraordinary that is worth our "precious" time to read.  With a title as stiff and revealing as "Scientific Controversy" it's no wonder I ended up skimming most of the article, because everything was revealed upfront.  On the other hand, "The Love That Dare Not Squawk Its Name" is a title that pulls you in further to see what it could possibly mean.  I completely agree with her when she says that "readers can tell when you're showing off and unconcerned with them."  That's how it felt reading Polyani, the writing didn't give a damn if it was read or not; a lovable quality in fiction, but not non-fiction.  Hancock makes this a very comfortable read in it's armchair conversational style.

I often start my writing off strong with the reader in mind, as if I am telling a campfire story and trying to capture the attention of rambunctious ADHD siblings with glowing screens in their palms that might rival my stories at any point.  It's an image I always return to, because it keeps the pressure on me of staying interesting, and not bloating my story.  But after awhile, it's easy to lose that sense of conversation, and it feels like i'm just telling my stories to that menacing blinking cursor who is always ready for the next word.

(As an aside...I wonder if Doug's mind feels "steeped in sophomoric prose")

I have a real drafting issue, coupled with an attitude issue.  By that I mean i'm generally one and done, and it often shows.  I hate the process of revision, which might be a writer's worst enemy.  But, it's because I can be a pretentious cunt, and make idiotic claims like, "revision takes the magic out of the initial inspiration" blech blech blech...It's like there is this fear of judgement, and Hancock is right, I can always say, "Of course there are mistakes it's only a draft!" for the rest of my god damned life...