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Thursday, July 31, 2014

Will the Real You . . .

Someday, I'd like to do some reading on the effect of online media on personality and behavior (both online and in-person).

I've noticed two contrary effects, myself, and I'd love to see some documentation or studies on either one.

Some people seem to be their best selves when they're online.  They're funny, they're kind, they're helpful, they give careful, gentle comments when everyone else is screaming in all caps at each other, they forward interesting and thoughtful articles (sometimes even ones they're inclined to disagree with!) instead of hate-filled tendentious political nonsense.  They always tell the nice stories about their families and leave the dirty laundry in the laundry room.  They have helpful parenting advice, and they do such lovely, photogenic things with their kids.

In short, they look pretty darn impressive, online.

But in person, they're just, like, normal, average people, who occasionally have bad breath and make thoughtless comments and forget to write thank-you notes and yell at their kids and take too long in the shower and talk too loud at dinner parties and all that normal, average, everyday stuff.

It's not that they're lying about themselves on line--it's just a lot easier to be perfect a few sentences a day than it is to be perfect 24/7/356.

(I do know this one family that is just as darling and wonderful and perfect in person as it is online, and I don't even hate them for it, because they're just that good.  But for the rest of us schlepps, it's hard to be the people we would like ourselves to be.)

Bloggy Me is a much better mom than Actual Me, because edit button.  (Out In Public Me is a much better mom than At Home Me, too, but for a totally different reason: when you're parenting at the rest of the world, instead of just parenting, you tend to do a better job of it.)

But then there's the other effect.

The one that takes warm, genuine, funny, good-hearted people and turns them into illogical, snarly, mean-spirited, tendentious ignoramuses.

If you've ever read the comments section on an online news article or YouTube video or even a slightly controversial posting on a friend's Facebook page, you know what I mean.  It may even lead you to imagine that the world is filled with horrid, vile people and that the Ebola virus is nature's best solution to the problem.

I suspect, though, that at least some of those nasty people making stupid and even hateful comments are not actually nasty, stupid, hateful people--In-Person Them may even be enjoyable to be around.

I have "hidden" or defriended people on Facebook--people whom I genuinely like and whose company I have enjoyed--because of this effect.  (Not you.  Definitely not you.  I promise.)  You know the sort--people who never acknowledge birthday greetings or "like" cute pictures of your kids or post silly cat pictures when you're sad, but always have something snarly to say when their favorite hot-button issue comes up, or are always willing to correct you or criticize you in a public posting, or always pass along the most execrable articles, pictures, or memes. 

And yet you know them in real life and they are the most conscientious neighbors or helpful colleagues or generous family members you have.

I'm guessing that if I actually go looking, this effect will be more represented in sociological or psychological literature than the former.  But that's just a guess.

I'd really be interested in learning if there were any transfer effect--if being The Better You online for a few years somehow really did make Real You a little better, or if being Nasty Online You made Real You a little nastier.  (I thought I read a couple of years ago an article on people with social anxiety learning how to navigate social situations by "practicing" online, but I may be making that up in my head.)

Do you have an online presence?  Which tendency do you think you exhibit--is Online You your better self, or is In-Person You more fun to be around?

Monday, July 28, 2014

Homages

It may seem like Isaac is the only one doing any reading, but, alas, it is just that he is the only one writing about what he's reading.

I've finally gotten around to reading a few of the homages to Jane Austen that have proliferated in recent years--one that I really wanted to read, and one that Isaac told me I should.

Perhaps because my expectations for the latter were so low, I found the former far more disappointing.

Of all the derivative works that have come out of Austen's corpus these last few years, I thought I would really enjoy P. D. James's Death Comes to Pemberley.  James is a strong writer, and though I sometimes feel her mysteries are a just a little too Freudian, I never find them dull.  She is, like Austen, acutely aware of both the foibles and the promise of humanity, but she is confident enough in her own style that she wouldn't feel the need merely to mimic Austen.  I really believed she was up to the challenge of writing a sequel to Pride and Prejudice.
(more after the jump, with possible vague spoilers)

Saturday, July 26, 2014

What I've Been Reading This Week

This has got to be the awesomest story ever, even if it was an April Fools joke.  For the record: if I were from a future "communist chocolate hellhole," with no poverty and free Kit-Kats for everyone, I don't think I'd be trying to stop it.

This one left me stunned and flabbergasted.  I had no idea that being hungry could make people grouchy.  None.  Somebody funded this study, y'all.  They may as well fund a study on whether or not people like bacon.  Duh.

I have no idea why it's news that Philip Seymour Hoffman left his estate to his long-term partner, the mother of his minor children, rather than to the children themselves.  Don't parents normally structure their wills this way, trusting their surviving spouses to take sufficient care of their minor children?  Don't a whole lot of them do it this way even when their children are grown, trusting their surviving spouses to do right by their own children?  Sorry, kids, but if you bump me off, you still have to work around Dad.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Adventures in the World of Books

I should write a book.

I certainly read enough of them. I would know what to do.

Most recently, yours truly read Incarceron by Catherine Fisher. You've seen it. It's that book. With the cover. You know, that one.

No? Well, it's a steampunk fantasy (genres are getting increasingly strange) set in... prison. Sort of. The story is told from many narrators' perspectives, some of whom are inside the prison and some of whom are not. Those outside the prison are living in what appears to be your average nameless medieval kingdom.

But anyway, back to the prison, because it's wayyy cooler than the lame palace that all the other people are doing. It's an enormously large, very sentient, ever-changing landscape. Some prisoners are placed in cells, without their previous memories, others are simply born in the world that is the prison. It's a prison not only because you can't leave (ever) and therefore have to live out your life trying to survive in this strange landscape, but also because life in this large world is hell.

Each Wing of the prison has a different identifying characteristic: the Ice Wing and the Tunnels of Madness are two particularly sucky examples. It's obvious what life is like, right? In the Ice Wing, temperatures are permanently stuck below freezing, there's snow everywhere -- it's basically Canada, only without the Canadian bacon and nice people, because no one stuck in this prison is nice. All the compassionate, caring, kind-hearted souls are murdered by the rampaging gangs who plunder, steal, and enslave pretty much anyone they can. Because, well, life sucks in prison, but if you have a slave, it sucks a little less.

Did I mention how the prison is always trying to kill you? Yeah, it's a sentient prison. It has really good, really malicious, and really megalomaniacal (is that a word?) artificial intelligence. It has billions of small, metallic beetles that carry a single red camera which observes the inhabitants. It really likes being in control of these puny little people. And because this is steampunk, and technology is basically a plot device which needs very little explanation, the prison can control and change every aspect about itself in order to torment its inhabitants. Getting too big for your britches? Surprise earthquake right in the middle of your plunder party. Saying really nasty things about the prison? When you wake up in the morning, your wing of the prison may have completely changed places overnight. Or a gust of wind could blow you into a canyon. Or you could be eaten by carnivorous kudzu. The prison is so malicious and evil and overlordly that it gave itself a name: Incarceron.

So now that I've thoroughly disturbed you (and incurred a visit from Child Protection Services), what's the plot like? It follows our hero, Finn, and a supporting band of other characters, some in prison, some Outside, as they journey through jail to try to Escape. See, escape from the prison is impossible. It's so large, the dome of the roof is beyond the visible sky, the ends of the map are all covered in mountains, caverns, or fiery lakes, and the floor goes on forever: no flying, breaking, or digging your way out.

Yet one man, a magician named Sapphique, is purported to have escaped. There is a multitude of legend and myth and story surrounding this magician, who is said to have looked long and suffered greatly in his many forays to escape Incarceron. He is said to have played riddles with Incarceron itself, fallen from the highest heights and risen from the bottomless valleys, and to have gone through the Tunnels of Madness and exited with his sanity (and highly improved pickup lines at the local pubs). So, obviously, everyone dreams of escape. Including the fearless hero of the story who through many acts of bravery, blah blah, etc.

Go read the book. And the sequel. Before they make it a movie. Don't worry, they keep delaying it. You can probably let your kids read it too.

Cheers,
Isaac

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Developmental Milestones

I realize that charts of developmental milestones are supposed to be helpful--especially to help parents judge when their child might need some sort of therapeutic intervention.

Usually when I look at them, I'm the one that needs therapy.

I think I scared Theo's pediatrician once, when I openly snorted at her during her checklist.
"Is he able to verbalize his desires, sometimes in ways that you might perceive as defiance?"

She looked at me so strangely, but I really couldn't have formed words if my life had depended on it.  (I'm pretty sure his chart said, "Does not yet show any adverse effects from mother's bizarre affect.")

Anyway, the chart I recently consulted for Amos's developmental milestones had me similarly . . . amused.

"Can your child walk unassisted?"
He can tiptoe down the hallway in complete silence, if there's something he's not supposed to have at the end of it.

"Can your child pull toys behind him while walking?"
He can pull the whole toy bin behind him while walking through the house.  At 6am.
Also, he can pull his seven-year-old brother behind him while running.  This is usually at 6:30am, when he's decided that Theo Has Slept Enough For One Day.

"Can your child carry large toys or several toys at once?"
Do you know how many Thomas trains we own?  And he has to carry every. single. one of them to bed, all in one trip, or else the universe will explode.

"Can your child stand on tiptoe?"
Yes, but he prefers to drag a chair into place and climb up onto the counter.

"Can your child kick a ball?"
I don't know, but he kicks his brothers a lot.

"Can your child climb up and down furniture unassisted?"
Yes.  This is why we've removed all our furniture.

"Can your child scribble spontaneously?"
Have you SEEN our living room walls?

"Can your child turn over a container to empty out its contents?"
This is a milestone? I thought it was a torture technique.

"Can your child point to body parts when you name them?"
Yes.  In a house full of boys, you can imagine which parts get the most practice.

"Can your child use simple sentences, like 'want milk' or 'go for walk'?"
No.  He's more into, "Mommy, my milk cup is empty.  It's time for you to fill it.  Please stop dawdling and get it for me now."

"Can your child follow simple instructions?"
Not unless we make him think they were his idea in the first place.
But he's really good at giving instructions.  Long, detailed instructions.

"Can your child find objects even when hidden under two or three covers?"
Are you serious?  Locked doors cannot keep him out--what kind of moron only uses a couple of blankets?

"Is your child demonstrating increasing independence?"
No, he's already reached the threshold.

"Can your child give his age when asked?"
No.  But he knows the age limits for all the fun activities in town and gives the "right" age for them when asked.  ("Oh, honey, there's an age limit to go on this slide.  How old are you?" "Seven!" "Um . . .")

"Does your child imitate the behavior of others, especially older children?"
Yes.  This is why his older brothers are always grounded.

"Can your child describe things that he did earlier in the day?"
Yes.  We usually end up calling someone to apologize.

"Is he capable of goal-directed behavior?"
He sneaks out of the (locked) front door every morning, gets in the car, and pretends to drive it.  This morning, he took Stephen's keys with him.  He's almost figured out which hole they go into.

"Can your child repeat words he's overheard in conversations?"
Yes.  That's why we've stopped having conversations.

"Does your child speak clearly enough for strangers to understand?"
Unfortunately, yes.

"Does your child speak in sentences of four or five words?"
Oh, I do miss those days.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Adventures in Literary Land, Vol. Religion

I've been Christian my whole life. Having spent two-thirds of that life surviving my parents' theology degrees, that's not surprising. However, I've always had a slightly difficult time relating to people who are either "born-again" or staunchly agnostic or atheist. I have a hard time with the first group because to my haughty, intellectual ears, their conversion experiences often sound cheesy or excessively emotional. Of course, born-agains are invaluable to the faith because of their ability to evangelize. The second group is perplexing because I can't understand their stubbornness to disbelieve or insist that belief is worthless.

Anyway, my mother got a book out from the library recently, and according to tradition, I picked it up and finished it before she could even get started. I found her lack of reading ... disturbing. And then I realized: It was a trap! She got me to learn about the Bible through subliminal methods involving (a) leaving a cool-looking book lying around the house and (b) waiting for me to read it.

So this book. It was titled The Year of Living Biblically and was made 12 times better because of the cover image.


http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/9/9a/Yearoflivingbiblically.jpg/180px-Yearoflivingbiblically.jpg

As you can see from the subtitle, a guy decided to try and follow all the rules and advice and commandments of the bible. His previous book was about reading the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica from A to Z. Clearly a sadist.

He writes in the introduction that he was of Jewish heritage but labeled himself as agnostic before his noble quest. In the epilogue, he states that he cannot quite bring himself to believe in the god of Judaism but is no longer agnostic. This is a man who writes for Esquire and reads encyclopedias for a living. So what did he do?

Well, everything. He stopped shaving. Stopped eating shellfish. Wore tassels on his clothes. Prayed regularly. Stoned adulterers. Those are just a few of the purity laws which he attempted to follow. He also tried to obey the moral laws like the 10 Commandments, the advice to pray regularly, or Leviticus 19:18. Look it up.

So it's an interesting read. It's an almost day-by-day account of what his new life is like. He notices the changes that his self-imposed restrictions and mandates are wreaking on his habits and thoughts. He has some moments where he actually feels connected to God and his heritage, and other moments when he is frightened by some sects which are affected by the same biblical literalism that his project requires. It's a very interesting experience.

Go read it.

Cheers,
Isaac