"Purpose is but the Slave to Memory"

Background: 

In Act 3 of Hamlet, Hamlet arranges for the Royal Court to watch The Murder of Gonzago. The characters of this "play within a play" find themselves in a similar situation to the the one that plagues the Royal family of Denmark. Because the plots of the two plays mirror each other, Hamlet uses the play to incite feelings of guilt in Claudius and gain proof against him as the barbarous murderer of the late King Hamlet. In one scene, the player King and player Queen are engaged in a conversation in the garden; the player King foreshadows his death and suggests that the player Queen find a new husband in the case that it may happen. In order to counter the player Queen's protests of her undying love for him, he argues that passions are easily forgotten, and finding new love is natural with time.

Player King:

 "What to ourselves in passion we propose/ The passion ending, doth the purpose lose."

At first, this seems like quite a depressing take on life, one in which no feeling or act of love or passion could be permanent, as prevented by the eroding power of time and by the inevitability of death and loss. And even beyond the scope of the player Queen's dilemma, the player King's worldview is incredibly realistic -- passions do fade with time, and loss of purpose to a certain action or end quickly follows. Everyone has experienced a time when (s)he has given up on an endeavor mere days after showing seemingly certain resolve -- Nick Carraway's unopened finance books and my untouched knitting needles can attest to that.

However, in order to move forward in any meaningful way in life in the long term, people have to consider matters of responsibility and commitment over passion. The road to any long-term goal involves making daily sacrifices that doubtlessly chip away at initial passion and make the goal difficult to commit to. Passion, by definition, is a fickle matter, and to define one's actions solely by passion is not only irresponsible, but incredibly selfish. Imagine an individual who, after years of marriage, leaves his/her spouse and their three children on the simple basis that (s)he no longer "feels passion" for the spouse. Marriage and Love are not phases that one can simply pass through. They're sparked by passion, but are sustained by a sense of responsibility to another person and constant compromise. 

It's hard to say whether the late King Hamlet forgave the Queen too easily -- she forgets her love for her husband within months. The player King gives the player Queen little credit in mental fortitude in protecting her self-proclaimed loyalty against assault, portraying her as someone who has little control over her life, which is dictated solely by emotion. (The violence of either grief or joy/ Their own enactures with themselves destroy.) Likewise, the late King all but states that his wife is a weak character, easily led astray by his brother's lust and depravity. Do we forgive her for her inaction against the unforgivable acts of Claudius? Is her "weakness" a viable excuse for disloyalty to the late King's memory? No - in the end, we are all in control of our actions. The idea that emotion can and should dictate our lives is infinitely flawed. Good intentions mean nothing if we can't act on them and, more importantly, constantly remember them through both highs and lows, through all degrees of passion, no matter how fleeting.

On Being Yourself

When my sister was applying to colleges, my parents bought this book for her called “100 Successful College Application Essays” which, as its title suggests, is a compilation of college app essays that helped their authors gain admission to top schools. To be honest, I was a little bit annoyed at the gesture…it seemed as if they were trying to write our college essays for her, or as if they believed there existed a “template” for a successful essay that could be mindlessly followed to produce another. However, when my sister bequeathed it upon me last year, I was surprised to find that it was just the opposite. I’ve only read a few of the essays, but it’s obvious that each of the essays is in the collection because it doesn’t follow a template. The authors use creative approaches – hand-drawn comics, unorthodox structure, made-up words, even made-up narratives – in defining themselves; each essay is able to portray a unique set of life experiences that shaped the author into a distinctive individual.

In “My Childhood on the Continent of Africa,” David Sedaris describes the ironic feeling of jealousy for his partner Hugh’s emotionally burdensome childhood. He mocks himself for wanting a childhood of “adventure,” complete with political turbulence and morbid field trips, while his own childhood was spent in the peace and comfort of middle-class suburban America.

As ridiculous as Sedaris’s emotions are, I found them pretty relatable. As I read the successful college application essays, I sat back and wondered what was unique about my experiences. Having grown up in some of the best possible conditions available in the world, I am ashamed to say that I had a nagging feeling of incompleteness in the idea that I lacked a cause that I wanted to die for, or that I had never overcome some life-threatening setback. And, like Sedaris, I realized that these feelings were evidence of the extreme state of my privileged irrationality.

In our culture, individuality and “uniqueness” in character are highly-valued commodities. From a young age, we are repeatedly told, “Don’t be afraid to be different,” “You are special,” and (my favorite) “Be yourself.” While these statements do have value, as they oppose the kind of conformity that impedes individual thought and spirit and the advancement of society, they are banal and ineffective in actually helping people find their identities. They promote the idea that to be different from others is to be great, which is not always the case. It’s this idea that perpetuates Sedaris’s jealousy of Hugh’s exotic childhood and fuels my own desires to be “myself,” whatever that means. We want to not only be different from others, but to be naturally so – we crave a sort of intrinsic uniqueness that no one else can acquire.

Test Tube Meat?

This week in class, we discussed Chet Raymo's "A Measure of Restraint," an essay discussing the possible negative effects of the kind of blindly advancing scientific industry that exists today. He argues that what seem like advancements are often detrimental to society. After exploring this phenomenon in the context of radium and other radioactive material, he poses some chilling questions about today's food industry, alluding to the practices of transgenics and injecting hormones in order to mass-produce food items. In his musings about the relationship between science and ethics, he attempts to demonstrate that scientists and the general public should practice a "measure of restraint" in their endeavors and take into account how their discoveries and choices may affect society before they go forth with implementing their desires. 

While perusing the internet, I came upon this video explaining and promoting "in vitro meat" - something that Chet Raymo would highly disapprove of: 

So the question is, how will things change when (and I'm 99.2% sure it will) test tube meat becomes readily and widely available?  Of course, there will be many health-related qualms before it becomes socially accepted. Although (I assume) it will be identical to meat on a molecular level, people will be skeptical of its nutritional value and whether it is safe to consume. As a result, I'm sure that at least some form of the current meat industry will remain long after in vitro meat becomes popular.

Nevertheless, assuming that it is nutritionally identical to "real" meat and that it becomes widely accepted, the next issue is whether it is ethical. Yes, it would allow many to eat meat without the guilt of knowing that they have taken a life. Yes, it would probably eliminate the necessity for hormones, food, and antibiotics in sustaining the mass raising of animals. And yes, it could potentially solve the mistreatment of animals - the disturbing treatment of lives as factory products - that we saw in the video in class. Yet, there is something so "Frankenstinian" about the idea of in vitro meat that makes me cringe. Instinct dictates that there must be something wrong with anything this artificial. Imagine the ability for scientists to simulate beef, chicken, pork - even human meat. The next step for scientists naturally seems to be the creation of life, and then creation of intelligent life, and so on down this nightmarish path.

In theory, in vitro meat seems like a great fix for the rampant unethical practices of the food industry today. While I am in favor of its development and will wholly support/consume test tube meat when it becomes available to the consumer, the discoveries that its research may present as it progresses terrify me. 

Migration and Brain Drain

In the AP prompt we read this week, Sanders argues that the American culture is so dependent on the idea of "uprooting ourselves" in migration in the name of exploration that it rejects the notion of finding virtue in "Making a Home in a Restless World." He demonstrates that the constant need for movement or for something "beyond" that is so central to the American Dream can be unhealthy not only for the individual but also for the earth. However, he also concedes that the growth of this movement-centered ideology may be inevitable.

This piece reminded me of a phenomenon called "brain drain," which usually occurs in developing countries, where those with higher education and technical knowledge often leave their countries perhaps for economic opportunity, political stability, or improved living conditions. This large-scale emigration of human capital slows the growth of the developing country. When I was in Haiti last summer, one thing I noticed was that many of the kids my age that I talked to had dreams of going to school in America or eventually living there. While I would wish the same if I had more limited opportunities – and there is no way for me to really imagine myself in their positions – this whole idea seems kind of sad. While migration might improve one of their lives individually, in the end, it just contributes to the cycle of poverty.

Informal Post: "Tackling Asian Privilege"

I was looking up news sources and their slants for my Government class, when I came upon this article:  http://takimag.com/article/tackling_asian_privilege_gavin_mcinnes#axzz2MOowtiXk

Not only is this article in direct parallel with Staples' "Black Men and Public Space," but I found it was also intriguing in that it explores (and deplores) the status of Asians in America. 

I'm fairly certain that McInnes was satirizing white supremacists and their paranoia of the "rise" of other races...his very argument, that Asians are banding together to exploit the system and oppress other minorities (and whites), is so ridiculous that I can't comprehend that he -- or anyone -- could truly believe it. He even states that ideally, Asians should actually be "penalized" for their "latent inequality," which is the privilege that they gain by "simply existing."

Side note: Harrison Bergeron. Just saying.

However, after reading the comments section (only read them if you want to feel like stabbing your computer),  I realized that many did take his argument as serious...and were willing to construct essay-long comments in order to argue that Asians had contributed nothing to society in comparison to Europeans, or that incompetent minorities using affirmative action are taking all the jobs from highly competent whites. In the end, it doesn't even matter that much whether McInnes meant it or not; the fact that there are people in the world who are defending this argument at all troubles me.

"Asians haven't risen, they've been lifted at white's expense." -Equality64 

The Meaning of Life

In "The Death of the Moth," Woolf ponders the meaning of life while observing a helpless moth -- trapped in its windowpane during the daytime, the moth is unable to receive the full benefits of the "clamor" and excitement of the outdoors that it yearns so dearly to be a part of. She parallels the moth's struggle to live to the same struggle fought by all mankind and attests that this struggle, while admirable, is somewhat pitiable. In Woolf's depiction of the moth's futile attempts against the inevitable force of Death, she ultimately poses the question: Is there meaning to life?

A plethora of links to stimulate thought:

Leading scientist and scholars answer the question, "Does the Universe have a purpose?

http://www.templeton.org/purpose/

Neil deGrasse Tyson's answer in video form, illustrated by minutephysics:

On a related note, here's a selection from Carl Sagan's famous "Pale Blue Dot" monologue (shout-out to Sneha!):

https://vimeo.com/51960515

Finally, a short (4 min) film by Mischa Rozema using NASA footage and sci-fi imagery (I recommend full screen):

http://vimeo.com/58626695

I do think there is meaning to life; the very fact that people are constantly in pursuit of purpose is what gives it meaning. People do try to examine their lives and find a set of principles by which to live. People do try to do good, make impacts, and to improve the lives of others. Whether these facts are of crucial importance to whatever forces are ultimately dominating the Universe is questionable. However, these facts are important to us, and, to us, their meanings are very real. And, after all, aren't we the ones experiencing life?

Marriage??

In "Marrying Absurd," Joan Didion exposes the deterioration of the institution of marriage to accommodate convenience above values. In Las Vegas, marriage is treated like fast food; drive-thru ceremonies are offered for under $20 and are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. In these cases, Didion argues, the meaning of marriage goes unappreciated as people are swept under the influence of passion (or alcohol) and marry under impulse, rather than to celebrate a meaningful relationship.

After reading Didion's piece, much of the dating/marriage culture in America seems kind of ludicrous. We see dating shows like "The Bachelor" and find it completely normal that ten girls are essentially dating the same guy at the same time while living in the same house. We even find ourselves rooting for certain people, judging who would look good together and who is really "in love" on a reality television show.
There is so much emphasis placed on "finding true love" in our culture, as evidenced by the burgeoning Disney princess movie/chick flick market to the millions of dollars made on the dating website industry. Love is (for lack of a better word) so romanticized in our culture, it's hard to say what can, in reality, be considered meaningful or not.

At its essence, a wedding is the celebration of a contract of commitment between two people. However, this contract is cheapened by the fact that divorce is so commonplace, or that it even exists at all. So, why are people scrambling to get married, when the only difference it makes is a ring and a piece of paper? Can’t a promise be kept without it being legally binding? And, going back to Didion’s piece, if you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone, what difference does it make whether your ceremony is 10 minutes long or 2 days long?

As you can see by this incoherent post, I haven’t completely developed my opinions on these things yet. Keep in mind that this was all written by someone who hopes to meticulously plan out an extravagant wedding after finding her true love…but I’ll get back to you on that.

Some (depressing) statistics about marriage from drphil.com:

• 88% of American men and women between the ages of 20 and 29 believe they have a soul mate who is waiting for them. University Wire, Louisiana State University
• 60% of marriages for couples between the ages of 20 and 25 end in divorce. National Center for Health Statistics
• 50% of all marriages in which the brides are 25 or older result in a failed marriage. National Center for Health Statistics

"What a treacherous thing to believe, that a person is more than a person." -John Green

Manning sees his dad as a person so above him -- the "protector" of the family, always one step ahead so that he can always catch his son in case he falls. It's hard for Manning to escape that mindset until he's face to face with him, arm wrestling, and he realizes that he is going to beat him. All of a sudden, he understands that his father isn't all-powerful, but human. It is when Manning finally sees his father as an equal that he is able to fully grasp their love -- this arm wrestling which he once viewed as a competition is, in reality, a way of communication.

Even though I can't relate with Manning's physical relationship with his father, I think I really connected with the distance in their relationship that Manning felt as a child. At the beginning of the story, he respects his father, but is unsure of his father's feelings and yearns for a sort of acceptance or approval. However, at the end, their relationship becomes more tender, and he connects with his father on an emotional level. In this way, Manning asserts that the most emotionally rewarding type of love exists between those who consider each other equals. When you place someone on a pedestal, you are prone to turning a blind eye to any imperfections and imagining him as something he isn't (à la Gatsby and Daisy). At worst, this can lead to your getting hurt by an unhealthy relationship. At best, it creates a barrier that prevents you from being truly close with the person.

"Love isn't about seeing someone as perfect; it's seeing that they aren't perfect and accepting them and loving them anyway."

-my friend Shachi

Chinese-American

Amy Tan's "Fish Cheeks" discusses the weird place that many Chinese-Americans (or anyone who is stuck between two cultures, really) inevitably find themselves in -- the place where they have to either publicly display or deny their affiliation with "customs" like burping at the table and eating obscure body parts of animals. The weirdest thing about this place is that I've been there with my parents.
When I was younger, I viewed my parents as one-dimensional, wholly Chinese, and unaware of the "American ways". I always thought that I was more aware of the cultural differences, and more knowledgeable of the ways I should and shouldn't act. But, more and more, I realize that we're in the same boat, me and my parents -- actually, they are probably in a smaller, more dangerous boat passing through a sea of alligators, as they have obviously faced many more challenges and overcome more alienation than I since they immigrated here in the 80's. And though they have, of course, retained many of the values and habits of Chinese culture (we are a very stereotypically Asian family), their lives are in America. In fact, as of a couple years ago, they have officially lived in America for a majority of their lives. And, in fact, when my mom told me this piece of information, she jokingly asked me whether she was becoming a typical American. Although it doesn't seem like it, my parents are hyper-aware of the way American culture affects their lifestyles as well as their identities. In short, they're Chinese-Americans, too.
I don't think it's a matter of, as Tan puts it, being Chinese on "the inside" and American on the "outside"...I don't even really know what that means. My parents and I are all Chinese on the inside and out, as well as Americans through and through. My parents take care to preserve our culture and make sure my sister and I understand where we come from, but they truly take more care to love us and allow us do what makes our lives fulfilling, outside of any cultural context.
Happy Chinese New Year, by the way.

New Semester

In “Champion of the World”, Maya Angelou recalls her community gathering in her grandfather’s Store to listen to Joe Louis’s championship boxing match. She describes Louis as a symbol of black empowerment and details the tense feeling of anticipation in the room as they waited for him to prove that they were “the strongest people in the world.” Despite all the celebration after the Brown Bomber’s victory, Angelou still notices that it is still unsafe for them to travel late at night, and that whites still hold power in determining where blacks go and when. At the end of the story, African Americans are still distant from attaining equality.

Coming away from this story, I was a little bit confused about what Angelou wanted us to take away as her opinion on the whole event. In one aspect, she applauded Louis for being this otherworldly symbol of power for her race, but at the same time, she ended the passage on a borderline pessimistic note. It’s hard to say whether she aimed to give readers hope or dash their hope to pieces by asserting that victories like Louis’s do nothing to further Civil Rights. However, the fact that Angelou’s take on the memory is so multi-dimensional is what makes her autobiography so realistic to me, even if I’ve never been a black girl growing up in the South. After all, no impactful experience in my life has ever been exclusively positive or negative, so there’s no reason for me to expect Angelou’s experiences to be.