the quirky behaviors of the nacirema, continued

The elders among the Nacirema believe that the continuous intake of a certain magical potion aids in transporting their souls through the various stages of the day.

The members of the tribe religiously create this magical potion each day at the crack of dawn. First, they carefully gather some of the "holy water" and place it into the mouth of a sacred container. They then take out a jar full of dark enchanted dust, measured amounts of which they sprinkle into the holy water. They close the container and turn away. As their eyes remain averted, they utter silent prayers in their heart until the container sends out a signal for them to stop. Reverently, they retrieve their half-done potion—transformed from a pure, pristine liquid to one now murky in color—and proceed to add the finishing touches. For this, they require a bit of the sweet, bewitching dust and another liquid white in color.

The older Nacirema take considerable pleasure in downing this warped form of their holy water multiple times daily. Although their medicine men have repeatedly told them of the benefits of consuming holy water alone—that it causes the skin to glow and the body to function more smoothly—they do not care much for it. The medicine men have repeatedly warned them that this magical concoction causes insomnia, nervousness, restlessness, stomach upsets, and  headaches. But the Nacirema pay no heed.

"It is to be hoped that, when a thorough study of the Nacirema is made, there will be careful inquiry into" their unusual dependency on EEFFOC. 

consider the trampoline

On any balmy day, you will find American backyards awash with people soaring sky-high on familiar big, bouncy contraptions. 

"For practical purposes, everyone knows what a [trampoline] is." It's a conglomeration of metal legs connected in a circular fashion with a round, elastic mat stretched across the rim with sturdy metal springs. If you have one of the more expensive ones, you can also expect a series of metal rods sticking up at evenly spaced intervals around the circumference of the trampoline, supporting a net that supposedly prevents jumpers from falling outside. Trampolines come in various sizes, can be circular or rectangular, and are supplemented with safety pads in bright, appealing hues. They can be used by children, teenagers, and adults alike.

Undoubtedly, the trampoline serves as an avenue of fun, entertainment, and healthy exercise. But have you ever thought of the potential risks associated with jumping on it? What would the doctors say about this deceptively merry medium of play and enjoyment? Can the harms be avoided by rule-abiding users? "Is the whole thing just a matter of personal [carefulness]?" 

If an unsuspecting child jumps close enough to the side rail, broken arms and legs could be the result. If you are unfortunate enough to let your head come in contact with the side rail or even with other people's heads, then not only will you see stars, but the whole Milky Way galaxy too, as you slip into the dark realm of painful concussions. Jumping off the trampoline and onto something on the ground can bring about lacerations; bumping into others may produce abdominal injuries. Ramming into the evil side rail is also a cause of the latter two grievances. And let's not get into the broken necks and spinal cord injuries, which often end in permanent paralysis or even death for the victim.* 

But that's not to say that one should flee from even the slightest shadow of these monstrous man-injurers. Not at all. In fact, I myself have a jumbo-sized trampoline sitting in my very own backyard.** Whenever Michigan's hormonal weather slips up into a breezy, wonderful day, I zip outside and onto my lovely trampoline. After all, jumping on one can essentially improve the quality of life by keeping you active, fit, and healthy!

*The American Academy of Pediatrics says, "Parents should never purchase a home trampoline or allow children to use home trampolines." Their high concern for child safety is evident in this strongly-worded piece of advice. 

**No, seriously, I do. 

virginia, laura, clarissa

The Hours: a film that transcends time and space to tell the story of three women whose lives are undeniably intertwined and utterly tainted with the unyielding speculations about the volatile vulnerability of life.

Who are they, exactly, and how do we see their lives reflecting those of the characters in Mrs. Dalloway?

Virginia Woolf is much like the character she herself created: Septimus Warren Smith. Like the war veteran, Virginia longs to return to the life before her mental illness took hold. Because of their disillusionment with life and the ebbing away of their freedom, both commit suicide—leaving behind spouses who loved and cared for them, yet ultimately failed to understand their true condition.

Laura Brown is also comparable to Septimus in many ways. Like Septimus, she has a devoted spouse who cares for her more than she cares for him. Post-war Septimus prefers to spend his time away from people; Laura, too, is shy and removed from society. Septimus's feelings for Evans are parallel to Laura's relationship with Kitty. Both are sick of leading a meaningless life, one that neither had ever imagined living. In response, Septimus kills himself while Laura resolves to leave her family.

Clarissa Vaughan is the modern version of Clarissa Dalloway. Not only do they share the same name, the two also have many of the same experiences throughout the day: preparing for a party, buying flowers, hearing a loud bang, and meeting friends they haven't seen in years. Clarissa Dalloway's ephemeral kiss with Sally is protracted into Clarissa Vaughan's open, decade-long relationship with her Sally. Both women dream of a different life with lovers past, and grapple with startling questions about the meaning of life. Though living in New York City eight decades later, Clarissa Vaughan is an equally revolutionary model of her fictional counterpart. 

the end of mrs. dalloway

"But what an extraordinary night! She felt somehow very like him—the young man who had killed himself. She felt glad that he had done it; thrown it away. The clock was striking. The leaden circles dissolved in the air. He made her feel the beauty; made her feel the fun." (186)

In this passage, Clarissa ruminates about Septimus's boldness in so freely throwing away what she deems most coveted—life itself. Up till this point, the inevitability of death has always produced emotions of anxiety, dread, and panic within her. She fears death because she believes she has no control over its undefeatable force. Thus, Septimus's willful suicide initially flabbergasts her. She considers the enormity of such a deed as she realizes that the only thing she has flung from her is "a shilling into the Serpentine, never anything more." Her thoughts lead her to believe that his suicide was a way to conquer death; he strove to place himself in power by treating death as inconsequential. In the end, Clarissa feels "very like him," because she can finally come to terms with the reality of giving up life. 

In the midst of her contemplation, Clarissa notices the time. Once again, the resounding chimes of Big Ben remind her that one man's death doesn't end all. Life goes on, and the realization that the sun will still shine, that the birds will still chirp, that her memory will continue to resonate in the minds of her loved ones fills her with awe at the "beauty" and "fun" of time's continuity.  

the waves of time

"The leaden circles dissolved in the air."

This short, recurring sentence appears whenever Big Ben strikes, and if traced across the whole book, could represent the gongs of the clock itself, the reverberations of which leave an ominous air in their wake. Big Ben's chimes are beautiful, "musical," yet they reveal something more chilling within them: that time, life is "irrevocable." 

I think the "circles" refer to man's tendency to seamlessly, subconsciously weave the tenses (past, present, future) of time into every stage of our existence. The use of the word "leaden" connotes a heaviness, a weight, a burden. Time is oppressive. It ruthlessly, stealthily flows onward, onward, eroding our life by the droplets of each second. "Leaden" also brings to mind, quite literally, a block of lead: soft, malleable, visible, perceptible. Time is not pliable yet it is fluid in nature; time is not transformable—it is the transformer; time is not physically seen yet it is discernible all around us, on us; time is imperceivable, elusive; time dissolves.

In the words of Benjamin Franklin, "Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that's the stuff that life is made of." If we cannot capture or control time, the least we can do is to ride the waves with an appreciation of the beauty of every moment that is life. 

pies are sinfully delicious

This week we wrote an in-class essay on an amusing anecdote of a child’s struggle with wrongdoing.  Although at the time I was frantically focused on composing an AP student-worthy masterpiece (only Ms. V knows how successful I was with that), I can now allow my mind reign to ruminate over the central message of Soto’s story. The connotative diction and vivid imagery he uses show how the irresistibly “sweet” immediate effects of sin serenaded his not-yet-matured six-year-old senses, gently detaching him from the whispers of his tugging conscience. Soto portrays himself as caught in a “sticky” web of guilt, unable to distinguish between the pleasure and abhorrence of sin as they continually morph and transpose, until he finally concludes that sin is, essentially, “what you took and didn’t give back.”

Allow me to present a more articulate definition.

A wise person once said, “Sin is what causes uneasiness in your heart and what you dislike others to become aware of.” The first part of this concise yet comprehensive statement has to do with the innate gauge and inherent notion of goodness that exists within every human being. When a person breaks this notion, their inner gauge picks it up as a warning sign and alerts them that something is not right. In a similar vein, think about the second characteristic mentioned. If you have to quickly switch tabs when you hear your parents at the door, shove the phone in your pocket when the teacher passes by, or minimize the window when your boss steps in, you’re probably doing something you shouldn’t be.

It’s crucial that we respond to the disturbances in our heart by leaving and reversing what’s wrong; if we suppress them, our gauge will eventually dim out and cease to function—leaving us lost, as young Soto was, in a haze of pleasure and peccancy. 

othering

In “Disability,” Nancy Mairs scrutinizes with candid and humorous language the lack of realistic portrayal–if at all–of disabled people in media culture. At one point in the essay, she switches abruptly from her wry quips to a serious tone with one forthright statement: “This kind of effacement or isolation has painful, even dangerous consequences, however.”

These blunt words reveal another aspect of the multifaceted concept of othering. While I know that people are commonly outcast from society based on appearance, race, religion, or gender, it never struck me till now that there are many in this world who are banished to the fringes of humankind solely owing to their disabilities. 

When people shun others based on certain characteristics they deem repulsive, they do so secure in the belief that they are more powerful, more superior because they are removed beyond the other’s fatal flaws. Yet this is precisely where disability differs. Because as Mairs unflinchingly posits, “the fact is that ours is the only minority you can join involuntarily, without warning, at any time.” Those who view disability as “a chronic incurable degenerative disease” and thus attempt to blot out the presence of the handicapped should use their narrow-mindedness as a catalyst for an acute awareness of their “own physical vulnerability.” For then it should come as no surprise that they are labeled by the very people they avoid as mere “Temporarily Abled Persons.”

Chief Justice Earl Warren’s words in the famous Brown vs. Board case ring true even in light of Mairs’s piece, almost as if they are an elucidation of the “painful, even dangerous consequences” she foretold. He said that such baseless othering of those different from us “generates [within them] a feeling of inferiority as to their status in the community that may affect their hearts and minds in a way unlikely to ever be undone.” And as long as we don’t bother to “insert disability daily into our field of vision,” these words will remain as applicable and valid as they were to society six decades ago.