256k's New Writeupshttp://everything2.com/?node=New%20Writeups%20Atom%20Feed&foruser=256k2004-01-12T21:20:24Zintention (idea)http://everything2.com/user/256k/writeups/intention256khttp://everything2.com/user/256k2004-01-12T21:20:24Z2004-01-12T21:20:24Z<p>It has long been a habit of the <a href="/title/human+race">human race</a> to <a href="/title/anthropomorphize">anthropomorphize</a> those things
with which it finds itself sharing it's <a href="/title/environment">environment</a>. People have said that
the <a href="/title/sun">sun</a> wanted to burn them and that their <a href="/title/car">car</a> fostered a dislike for them
and even that their <a href="/title/computer">computer</a> smugly refused to do what it was told. When
talking about human <a href="/title/tools">tools</a>, such as <a href="/title/thermostats">thermostats</a> and <a href="/title/guidance+systems">guidance systems</a>, it can
be extremely convenient to discuss them as if they had certain <a href="/title/beliefs">beliefs</a>,
<a href="/title/intentions">intentions</a> and <a href="/title/desires">desires</a>, such as believing it to be above a certain
temperature or intending to reach a certain destination. In the attempt to
explain the workings of the mental, this anthropomorphization has caused a
question to be raised: "Do these objects actually possess these <a href="/title/mentalistic">mentalistic</a>
properties?"</p><p>
There are two fundamental ways of answering this question chosen by
<a href="/title/philosophers">philosophers</a> of <a href="/title/mind">mind</a>. Those of the first camp(in the tradition of <a href="/title/Jerry+Fodor">Fodor</a> and
<a href="/title/Jown+Searle">Searle</a>) would emphatically state: "No!". On<!-- close unclosed tag --></p>…anarchist (idea)http://everything2.com/user/256k/writeups/anarchist256khttp://everything2.com/user/256k2004-01-08T16:40:37Z2004-01-08T16:40:37Z<h2>Confessions of an Anarchist</h2>
<h3>A TRUE STORY: friday night in a bar in a small town I used to call my home</h3>
<p>
<a href="/title/toronto+maple+leafs">toronto maple leafs</a> cap at the bar: "Are you a fucking <a href="/title/faggot">faggot</a>?"</p><p>
first thought: <a href="/title/self+defense">self defense</a><br>
I want to tell him about my <a href="/title/girlfriend">girlfriend</a>. About all the times growing up that I laughed at jokes about <a href="/title/fags">fags</a> and <a href="/title/queers">queers</a> and other <a href="/title/perverts">perverts</a>. Tell him about going to the high school <a href="/title/prom">prom</a>, getting drunk and getting laid, just like i was supposed to. Tell him about every girl i've fucked.</p><p>
second thought: <a href="/title/education">education</a><br>
I want to sit him down and explain to him about <a href="/title/hate">hate</a>. About how <a href="/title/ignorance">ignorance</a> and the <a href="/title/fear">fear</a> of everything different is tearing the world apart at the seams. try to explain just once that being a <a href="/title/white">white</a> <a href="/title/christian">christian</a> <a href="/title/heterosexual">heterosexual</a> <a href="/title/male">male</a> does not make hatred all right. i want to repeat all the things that my <a href="/title/third+grade">third grade</a> teacher and those like him have tried to tell us about how every person is equal and deserves to be treated with respect.</p>…Further conversations with a hot dog vendor (idea)http://everything2.com/user/256k/writeups/Further+conversations+with+a+hot+dog+vendor256khttp://everything2.com/user/256k2004-01-07T20:11:12Z2004-01-07T20:11:12ZOutside my place of work there sits a <a href="/title/hot+dog+vendor">hot dog vendor</a>. She is <a href="/title/Polish">Polish</a>, has a <a href="/title/masters+degree">masters degree</a> in <a href="/title/literature">literature</a> and speaks four <a href="/title/languages">languages</a>. I talked with her many times about <a href="/title/literature+in+translation">many things</a>.
<p>
"What is your <a href="/title/favorite+book">favorite book</a>?" she asks me today.
</p><p>
It's an <a href="/title/impossible">impossible</a> question. My answer changes everytime I answer it, depending on my mood and what's on my mind.
</p><p>
"I don't know," I say, "but '<a href="/title/One+Day+in+the+Life+of+Ivan+Denisovich">One Day in the Life</a>' is definitely near the top."
</p><p>
"It's too short for a favorite book," she says.
</p><p>
"I like <a href="/title/short+books">short books</a>," is my response, "because they're accessible. I think <a href="/title/critics">critics</a> just like <a href="/title/long+books">long books</a> because they feel proud of having read them."
</p><p>
"Very sad about <a href="/title/Aleksandr+Solzhenitsyn">Solzhenitsyn</a>," she says.
</p><p>
"About the <a href="/title/Gulag">Gulag</a>?" I ask stupidly.
</p><p>
She gives me a look that lets me know I'm toeing the line of <a href="/title/publicly+acceptable">publicly acceptable</a> speech by even naming the place. "Гу<!-- close unclosed tag --></p>…Literature in Translation (idea)http://everything2.com/user/256k/writeups/Literature+in+Translation256khttp://everything2.com/user/256k2004-01-05T15:49:18Z2004-01-05T15:49:18ZI have a <a href="/title/tattoo">tattoo</a> on my arm. It is in a <a href="/title/language">language</a> I can not read. It is chapter eight of the <a href="/title/Tao+Te+Ching">Dao De Jing</a>, and it is in <a href="/title/Chinese">Chinese</a>. I can recite three different <a href="/title/English">English</a> <a href="/title/translations">translations</a> of it from memory and got the tattoo done directly from my <a href="/title/English-Chinese">English-Chinese</a> <a href="/title/bilingual">bilingual</a> copy of the book. I feel like I know what these <a href="/title/symbols">symbols</a> on my arm mean. But still, I don't speak the language.
<p>
I got into thinking about the subject last week, after reading my sixth <a href="/title/translation">translation</a> of the Dao De Jing. The book is a collection of eighty-one poems and I feel quite familiar with all of them. Yet each time I read through new translation, I will find a few verses and say to myself "I don't remember this."
</p><p>
Which brought me back to a question I have thought on many times before: When you read a work in translation, to what the degree have you read the actual work and to what degree have you read a different piece inspired by the <a href="/title/original">original</a> and written by the translator. <a href="/title/Crime+and+Punishment">Crime and Punishment</a><!-- close unclosed tag --></p>…Sushi for the Apocalypse (idea)http://everything2.com/user/256k/writeups/Sushi+for+the+Apocalypse256khttp://everything2.com/user/256k2004-01-05T14:55:32Z2004-01-05T14:55:32ZBeing an account of one <a href="/title/twenty-something">twenty-something</a> <a href="/title/punk+rocker">punk rocker</a> with a <a href="/title/white+collar">white collar</a> programming job's experiences during the <a href="/title/Great+Blackout+of+%252703">Great Blackout of '03</a>. (<a href="/title/August+15%252C+2003">August 15, 2003</a>)
<p>
(people names have been changed, place names have not)
</p><p>
I was at work when it all began. One of the interesting things was the slow way in which the magnitude of the thing dawned on us. I was sitting at my desk angrily clicking on a <a href="/title/widget">widget</a> in a <a href="/title/program">program</a> I had written that wasn't doing what it was supposed to. Boredom and frustration had combined to the point where vengefully clicking on the program until it <a href="/title/crash">crash</a>ed seemed like a perfectly sensible way to deal with a piece of <a href="/title/buggy+software">buggy software</a>. I had been clicking for about thirty seconds when the power went out. For half a second I thought I had <a href="/title/blown+a+fuse">blown a fuse</a> in the office with all my clicking. I know enough about computers to know that that was a <a href="/title/patently+ridiculous+idea">patently ridiculous idea</a>, but also enough to know that sometimes the truth when it comes to computers is patently ridiculous.<!-- close unclosed tag --></p>…Olden Days (idea)http://everything2.com/user/256k/writeups/Olden+Days256khttp://everything2.com/user/256k2004-01-05T11:58:15Z2004-01-05T11:58:15Z<p>It was the third day of <a href="/title/summer+vacation">summer vacation</a>. Kristin, a year younger than me, had been out of preschool for a month already. We played on the swing set in the backyard. The house sat alone atop a hill in <a href="/title/Northumberland+County">Northumberland County</a>. To the north we could see the sun reflecting off of the lake and in the other three cardinal directions we could see only forest. Along one side of the house our driveway ran from Lakeview Drive, our street, to our dilapidated garage and the even more dilapidated chicken coop with no chickens in it. Across the driveway from our house was an old abandoned one room schoolhouse which we were forbidden from exploring. Along the other side of our house ran a gravel road with a street sign claiming to indicate <a href="/title/Ardaugh">Ardaugh</a> Road (which we pronounced "our dog"). The gravel road ran into the woods where it eventually became a dirt path before disappearing entirely. Over the next twenty years, Ardaugh Road would be paved, made to circle back around to Lakeview Drive on the other side of our<!-- close unclosed tag --></p>…