In 2010 I read 79 fiction books—77 novels and 2 books of short stories. In the beginning of the year I read mostly mysteries. The rest of the year I read mostly science fiction and fantasy, particularly the Hugo winning novels. But I still took time to read new novels by some of my favorite writers. I also read 42+ non-fiction books. The non-fiction numbers get fuzzy because I reread favorite books and read some very old books on-line.
Two men came to my home this summer trying to talk me into installing cable television. I looked at them blankly and tried to explain that I didn’t fit into their demographics. “But you could watch television in every room in your house. You could record up to four programs at a time.” Why would a person want to do that when there are libraries filled with books?
I feel so, so blessed that I have been able to read to my heart’s content the last few years. I know there may come a time when I have to go back to the pace of a novel or two a month. That will be okay too.
Showing posts with label Television. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Television. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Friday, October 22, 2010
Of Jung, Spock, and Revolution
Experiential and Participatory, those are some of the words that describe how we have changed in the last 40+ years, continuing on with some of my thoughts from my last blog entry, Stand On Zanzibar. We are no longer satisfied to passively watch an entertainer. We are less concerned about finding the right teacher or guru.
In the world of entertainment we want to have an active role. At the very least we want to choose when we watch a television program or vote for the winner of a reality TV series. Many of us want and expect our entertainment to come from multiple platforms. We want more than a book or a TV program; we want a larger experience. [Last night I finished Victory of Eagles by Naomi Novik, and one of my first thoughts was “I wonder which dragon I am" and made a mental note to see if there was a personality quiz on-line.] We twitter, blog, Facebook, YouTube. If we can’t be discovered by a talent scout, we put our art out on the internet and let the “public decide.” We write fan fiction, create avatars, roleplay our favorite characters. It used to be only a bunch of nerds wearing Mr. Spock ears; now a larger percent of us want to be immersed in our entertainment.
The authority figure role has also diminished over the last 40 years. Instead of a staff of paid encyclopedia writers, people from all over share their knowledge on sites like Wikipedia. We ask questions in internet groups. We share recipes and helpful hints on websites. We are more likely to actively seek out the answers ourselves from multiple sources, rather than looking to one expert and, we are more likely to want to make the final decision ourselves.
I am reading Jung on Active Imagination by Joan Chodorow. Carl Jung drew mandalas almost every morning in 1918 through 1919. Finally one day he realized: “One could not go beyond the center. The Center is goal and everything is directed toward that center,…the self is the principle and archetype of orientation and meaning.” This profound idea helped change psychology. But the point is that Jung actively participated in the process. He needed to experience hundreds of mandalas to reach his conclusion. He was an unusual man. Now, more and more people want to interact with life experientially, whether directly or virtually, to find their wisdom.
I hear friends and family lamenting about how few people attend Sunday services. Many churches are filled with old congregates. Part of the situation is that traditional churches are working on the old model. Younger people want an experiential religion. They are less likely to want someone with impressive credentials standing in front of them. Yet, I also hear of churches bucking the trend and creating new experiences for their members, some taking full advantage of social media.
Part of the revolution of the last forty years is where we put ourselves. We are no longer playing follow the leader. We are putting ourselves in the center of our world and then creating the picture of our lives by reaching out to the larger world around us. The idea is not so different from Jung and his mandalas.
In the world of entertainment we want to have an active role. At the very least we want to choose when we watch a television program or vote for the winner of a reality TV series. Many of us want and expect our entertainment to come from multiple platforms. We want more than a book or a TV program; we want a larger experience. [Last night I finished Victory of Eagles by Naomi Novik, and one of my first thoughts was “I wonder which dragon I am" and made a mental note to see if there was a personality quiz on-line.] We twitter, blog, Facebook, YouTube. If we can’t be discovered by a talent scout, we put our art out on the internet and let the “public decide.” We write fan fiction, create avatars, roleplay our favorite characters. It used to be only a bunch of nerds wearing Mr. Spock ears; now a larger percent of us want to be immersed in our entertainment.
The authority figure role has also diminished over the last 40 years. Instead of a staff of paid encyclopedia writers, people from all over share their knowledge on sites like Wikipedia. We ask questions in internet groups. We share recipes and helpful hints on websites. We are more likely to actively seek out the answers ourselves from multiple sources, rather than looking to one expert and, we are more likely to want to make the final decision ourselves.
I am reading Jung on Active Imagination by Joan Chodorow. Carl Jung drew mandalas almost every morning in 1918 through 1919. Finally one day he realized: “One could not go beyond the center. The Center is goal and everything is directed toward that center,…the self is the principle and archetype of orientation and meaning.” This profound idea helped change psychology. But the point is that Jung actively participated in the process. He needed to experience hundreds of mandalas to reach his conclusion. He was an unusual man. Now, more and more people want to interact with life experientially, whether directly or virtually, to find their wisdom.
I hear friends and family lamenting about how few people attend Sunday services. Many churches are filled with old congregates. Part of the situation is that traditional churches are working on the old model. Younger people want an experiential religion. They are less likely to want someone with impressive credentials standing in front of them. Yet, I also hear of churches bucking the trend and creating new experiences for their members, some taking full advantage of social media.
Part of the revolution of the last forty years is where we put ourselves. We are no longer playing follow the leader. We are putting ourselves in the center of our world and then creating the picture of our lives by reaching out to the larger world around us. The idea is not so different from Jung and his mandalas.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Multiple Intelligences and SYTYCD
So You Think You Can Dance helps make me a smarter person. It gives me a vocabulary for movement and emotions. Don’t get me wrong, I love the dancing. But what enthralls me is watching the judges.
After bumbling through assorted internal martial arts classes, I feel nourished by the discussions on different way to move a wrist or a knee, where the center of gravity is in a dancer’s body, the openness of a shoulder. I unconsciously find myself experimenting with a tiny movement as I listen. Sometimes when I practice Tai Chi later in the week, I hear a SYTYCD judge’s critic in my head, and I explore how to bring those ideas to my form.
So You Think You Can Dance teaches me about emotion. Coming from a strict German American family, emotion was discouraged. At best it was a sign of being undisciplined. At worse, it was considered blatantly bad. Watching the display and discussion of emotion is like a woman who has deprived herself of dessert for months finally having a slim slice of cheesecake. In two different seasons, Adam Shankman has asked dancers what they were feeling. And paused, creating a beautiful space. The dancer opened his/her heart. I was in tears. I could feel the currents through the miles or over the Television waves. There have been times when all three judges have broken down in tears when a performance has moved them. I begin to understand what it is like to feel art, with its beauty, joy, pain.
Fred Rogers would be so proud. “Today boys and girls we are going to learn about two motions. The first motion is the movement we do with our bodies. The second motion –emotion—we do with our hearts.” I am so going to miss the show when it ends next week.
After bumbling through assorted internal martial arts classes, I feel nourished by the discussions on different way to move a wrist or a knee, where the center of gravity is in a dancer’s body, the openness of a shoulder. I unconsciously find myself experimenting with a tiny movement as I listen. Sometimes when I practice Tai Chi later in the week, I hear a SYTYCD judge’s critic in my head, and I explore how to bring those ideas to my form.
So You Think You Can Dance teaches me about emotion. Coming from a strict German American family, emotion was discouraged. At best it was a sign of being undisciplined. At worse, it was considered blatantly bad. Watching the display and discussion of emotion is like a woman who has deprived herself of dessert for months finally having a slim slice of cheesecake. In two different seasons, Adam Shankman has asked dancers what they were feeling. And paused, creating a beautiful space. The dancer opened his/her heart. I was in tears. I could feel the currents through the miles or over the Television waves. There have been times when all three judges have broken down in tears when a performance has moved them. I begin to understand what it is like to feel art, with its beauty, joy, pain.
Fred Rogers would be so proud. “Today boys and girls we are going to learn about two motions. The first motion is the movement we do with our bodies. The second motion –emotion—we do with our hearts.” I am so going to miss the show when it ends next week.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Saying Good-bye Again to an Analog Father
Last week, when TV stations officially stopped broadcasting in analog, I sobbed, despite the fact that my old TV had been digitally compatible for over half a year. I couldn’t figure out why I was so emotional. I felt like I had lost something precious.
When my mother passed away a few years ago, I felt like we had been riding in a car together and she had gotten out. I kept on looking at her in the rearview mirror, each day her image getting smaller and smaller. I kept on wanting to somehow turn the car and go back for her. She was no longer there chatting with me in the car. We were no longer making memories. More and more of the world that we had known together had changed. I know some religions refer to the term Summerland as the afterlife. Part of my brain took this literally, as though Summerland were a summer camp where I could send letters to my mother. I thought about writing her with the latest news. “Dear Mom, a new Walgreens and custard stand just went up on the corner.” “Dear Mom, we just elected our first non-white president, and I know you’d just adore his wife’s clothes.” “Dear Mom, Gary just passed away. Ellen is taking it hard.” The point is that I can still think of telling her things that would have seemed relevant to her.
My father died when I was a wee thing. He loved technology, but unfortunately didn’t live to see CD’s, PC’s, and definitely not the Internet. He would have embraced all those technologies and more. If he had lived long enough, I am sure he would have Twittered and had his own video blog. Dad loved science fiction so maybe he somehow experienced those things in his imagination. I can only hope so.
On the day of the digital conversation I felt like I crossed a huge chasm that now separates my father and me. My dad has now become a fossil, someone from a totally different era. It was as though my father had driven a horse and buggy, never even seen a car, and now I was in Detroit during the glory years. Or, I was going to the theater ever week and watching movies in color when my father had never even heard a talking picture. I only knew one of my grandparents and only briefly before he passed away. To me my grandparents are just old black and white pictures, ghosts in stories my mom used to tell me. My father now seems like a ghost in the frame. All these feelings just from someone flipping a few switches at some television stations.
When my mother passed away a few years ago, I felt like we had been riding in a car together and she had gotten out. I kept on looking at her in the rearview mirror, each day her image getting smaller and smaller. I kept on wanting to somehow turn the car and go back for her. She was no longer there chatting with me in the car. We were no longer making memories. More and more of the world that we had known together had changed. I know some religions refer to the term Summerland as the afterlife. Part of my brain took this literally, as though Summerland were a summer camp where I could send letters to my mother. I thought about writing her with the latest news. “Dear Mom, a new Walgreens and custard stand just went up on the corner.” “Dear Mom, we just elected our first non-white president, and I know you’d just adore his wife’s clothes.” “Dear Mom, Gary just passed away. Ellen is taking it hard.” The point is that I can still think of telling her things that would have seemed relevant to her.
My father died when I was a wee thing. He loved technology, but unfortunately didn’t live to see CD’s, PC’s, and definitely not the Internet. He would have embraced all those technologies and more. If he had lived long enough, I am sure he would have Twittered and had his own video blog. Dad loved science fiction so maybe he somehow experienced those things in his imagination. I can only hope so.
On the day of the digital conversation I felt like I crossed a huge chasm that now separates my father and me. My dad has now become a fossil, someone from a totally different era. It was as though my father had driven a horse and buggy, never even seen a car, and now I was in Detroit during the glory years. Or, I was going to the theater ever week and watching movies in color when my father had never even heard a talking picture. I only knew one of my grandparents and only briefly before he passed away. To me my grandparents are just old black and white pictures, ghosts in stories my mom used to tell me. My father now seems like a ghost in the frame. All these feelings just from someone flipping a few switches at some television stations.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Memorial Day Blessing
Donna, the minister of our teeny, tiny church, will be out of town for the next two weeks, and I will be conducting the services. I have a Memorial Day theme planned for tomorrow. Donna said that in the decade that she has been minister she has never focused on Memorial Day. Somehow it seems important to me this year. I’m not sure exactly why. Perhaps, it is because my Uncle Lefty, who served in both WWII and the Korean War, passed away in December. Perhaps it is because I have been watching so much NCIS on television this past year that I somehow feel more connected with the men and women who have fought for this country. Perhaps it is from feeling proud to be an American after the first African American president was sworn in this year.
I usually end the services with a blessing. I wrote this one for Sunday:
I usually end the services with a blessing. I wrote this one for Sunday:
May you revel in the first weekend of summer,
Feeling the joy of being alive.
May you also experience a quiet moment of gratitude,
Honoring the men and women who gave their lives
For this country.
May you feel a gentle connection with loved ones
Who have passed before you,
Always remembering that Love never dies.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Where Did that Attitude Come From?
When I was in school, writing assignments were a breeze for me. Our family religiously watched the nightly news, and I heard Walter Cronkite’s articulate voice in my head whenever I put pen to paper. Occasionally I will hear an odd phrase come out of my mouth or appear in my e-mails. Where did that come from? I feel a sense of accomplishment when I can track the wording back to its source. I am amazed how easily these phrases slip into my life without any conscious effort on my part.
I am aware of a similar process taking place in my attitudes toward life. For example, while reading books by Alexander McCall Smith recently I have found myself with a smile that starts at my toes and goes all the way up. When I watch television, I now make an effort to pay attention to the feelings I have during and after each program. NCIS usually leaves me feeling upbeat, probably because of the interactions of the main characters. Lost seems to stimulate my curiosity toward life. Recently, entertainment news programs have left me with a judging attitude. What amazes me is that I have spent a lifetime being more or less unaware of how television and books form my attitudes while I passively sit in my chair.
I am aware of a similar process taking place in my attitudes toward life. For example, while reading books by Alexander McCall Smith recently I have found myself with a smile that starts at my toes and goes all the way up. When I watch television, I now make an effort to pay attention to the feelings I have during and after each program. NCIS usually leaves me feeling upbeat, probably because of the interactions of the main characters. Lost seems to stimulate my curiosity toward life. Recently, entertainment news programs have left me with a judging attitude. What amazes me is that I have spent a lifetime being more or less unaware of how television and books form my attitudes while I passively sit in my chair.
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