Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Man and Supery-dooperyman

(Emma's theme for next week's Disability Blog Carnival is Superman. I found it hard to connect this theme to disability, so the hurried and somewhat tardy result is a little odd. One of those it's my blog, it's up to me how silly it gets posts.)

I've never got on with Nietzsche. He is a basically a 19th century gangsta rapper; he thinks he's really hard, he's brimming over with contempt for his fellow man, but ultimately he is so inadequate that he probably thought that sportswear and chunky gold jewellery were a stylish combination (and 19th century European sportswear, the effect would be far worse). In case you are unfamiliar with his work, Nietzsche's rap would have gone a little like this;

I'm a moustachioed mother from the mean streets of Röcken,
My old man was a pastor but my faith in God got broken.
I'm not hanging in the Ghetto as I'm not too keen on Jews,
Basically, my ethics are whatever I choose.

What they call "morality" is all born out of fear,
Love and compassion can kiss me on the rear.
Human beings aren't equal; that's obvious to see,
And guess who is the best of all? That's obviously me!

I matter more than others, because I am so great,
Most people live in suffering because they're second-rate.
Whereas I am really clever and I am really strong,
And nothing that I do or say could ever be wrong.

Even if I'm violent, and shoot up all my foes,
Even if I beat up my bitch and sleep around with hos
(Although to be quite honest, my love-life is a farce,
And when I talk of women, I am talking through my arse.)

I'm sorry about the language, but foul words like arse crop up all too often in the rap music I listen to - that hardcore rural English rap as opposed to the effete American urban variety. I mean, drive-by shootings in anything that goes faster than a tractor is for sissies.

Betrand Russell said in his History of Western Philosophy in 1946 that, despite his own distaste for the chap, Nietzsche's philosophy had come into force in Europe as much as those of his liberal and socialist peers. On the positive side, Nietzsche's ideas did influence various artists and philosophers - notably the Existentialists. The assertion that God is dead was a pretty amazing one, however banal it may appear as a sentence.

However, Hitler had the hots for Nietzsche, and whilst you can't say that Nietzsche was a Nazi, he might be seen to beckon in that direction. Anyway, this was about Superman. And disability. Somehow.

Nietzsche strongly believed in hierarchy, valuing those qualities associated with being a good warrior-hero; strength of will, a certain sort of courage, physical qualities as well as ruthlessness and guile. Romanticised if not actually romantic. In Thus Spoke Zarathustra, a tedious rant which I recommend you avoid, he talks about the Übermensch, translated as Superman or Overman. He writes;

The most cautious people ask today: "How may man still be preserved?" Zarathustra, however, asks as the sole and first one to do so: "How shall man be overcome?"

Man is weak and we must rise above weakness. Thus begins an idea which has persisted in medical science and cultural attitudes ever since. It's not just about saving life and making life more comfortable, it is about making man himself better.

A desire to improve oneself, one's life and one's society is ancient and widespread and entirely commendable. The only controversy is about how this might be achieved. The Superman is one particular take on this; he is innately superior, without weakness of any physical, psychological or intellectual variety. He is an uncomplicated product of what we would now call eugenics and the triumph of the will which Nietzsche is always harking on about; people doing what they want to do as opposed to what they feel to be right.

This may seem a scary and radical prospect, but are these ideas so far outside our experience? Certainly there is a strong argument that much of ante-natal screening and the elective abortions that result is not about the elevation of suffering, but the elimination of (perceived) weakness. Healthy people try to make themselves better than they really are with cosmetic "corrective" surgery and treatments and self-help gurus who promise them a competitive edge in every conceivable area of life. Despite abundant evidence to the contrary, there is increasing talk of genetic "causes" for mental and physical ill health - or being responsible for "intelligence" and personality traits. Meanwhile, this is what we're concentrating in schools all the time; to be valued, one must have a very narrow version of intelligence that allows you to pass exams and which everyone will pretend you were born with.

Naturally, disabled people are left behind in this project for all manner of reasons. It is also a futile project, however seductive it has been for some. You cannot be a better person for being intelligent, or being able to run fast, or for being beautiful. These aren't things you (or your parents, or doctors or anyone) ever get to choose, but neither do they do you or those around you any favours without your own intervention.

So I have an alternative; the Supery-dooperyman (or in German, the Über-DüberMensch).

Thus spoke the Goldfish. Strength is not a thing that the Supery-dooperyman is born with, but something he develops through experience and demonstrates through his actions. Being clever or having physical advantages counts for nothing, but the Supery-dooperyman takes whatever talents or attributes he happens to have - however modest, however great - and makes the best use he can. The Supery-dooperyman realises that fear is not at the root of compassion, but often at the root of contempt; sometimes the greatest test of our courage comes in considering another person's point of view. The only valuable hierarchies are, as they are in nature, in a constant state of flux; the Supery-dooperyman understands the transient nature of all things, including himself. The Supery-dooperyman may do whatever he likes, but in order to do so, he knows he must not always do exactly as he feels - if you punch everyone who deserves it, you're unlikely to be in a physical state to enjoy more long-term interests.

If we could all manage that, we would have overcome a great deal.

Oddly enough, the only musical reference I can think of to Nietzsche is at the end of the chorus of Blur's noisy classic Song 2, when Damon Alburn sings "All of the time, 'cause I'm never sure why I need you/ 'Cause I, Nietzsche." Go listen; I don't tell a lie.

Friday, February 08, 2008

Advice for an Archbishop

If you're going to start a debate on Sharia Law, you first have to tell people what it is. The vast majority of the population, being non-Muslim and having had neither the opportunity or inclination to learn about such things, don't really know. Many people are inclined to associate the phrase with corporal and capital punishment for acts which we don't consider vaguely criminal, as are carried out in the name of Sharia Law in other countries of the world.

Some snowdropsI asked a friend if he knew what Sharia Law was and he asked, "Isn't that the woman that Tony Blair is married to?"

If you use words like unavoidable and phrases such as the stark alternatives of cultural loyalty or state loyalty, you must expect that these words are going to more often repeated than any of your more measured comments. This way, the story stops being about your own ideas and starts being about another innocent party; if them Muslims are more loyal to their culture than they are to the state, why don't they just bugger off. Only yesterday, no Muslim put their hand up and said that. They may have done at some other point, but yesterday it was you, head honcho in the Church of England, who spoke on their behalf.

If you are going to make a proposal which would give special treatment to a community who are already subject to suspicion and prejudice, one has to consider whether your words, however well-meant, are likely to increase or decrease the tension that already exists.

In other news, we have snowdrops!

Monday, February 04, 2008

I'm so ugly, but that's okay 'cause so are you

Sage recently wrote a few great posts about poor body-image and the beauty industry, which put me in mind of an old friend. I'm picking up from another dip in my health so instead of a long rambling post, I thought I would introduce you to her. My mother and I met her in the National Gallery, many years ago. My mother said, "She's no oil painting." and I had to point out that in fact she is

A Grotesque Old Woman by Quinten MassysMum actually bought a handbag mirror with this lady on the reverse. It was a giggle at the time, but I later thought it an excellent idea. All the time we are being subjected to images of beauty to which very few of us can aspire to. And indeed, we are often being asked to compare ourselves to them because of the nature of the sales pitch. The only comparisons that most of us can make are negative; sometimes significantly so.

However, if all this is the case, A Grotesque Old Woman must make most of feel drop dead gorgeous. Nobody reading this will be less than somewhat good looking next to this lady (although research has demonstrated that readers of this blog are better looking than average). Regard this picture, then go look in a mirror and see what you think. Cute, or what?*

And yet, if body-image so important, if we have reason to be as upset and preoccupied by it as we seem to be, then this picture must inspire tremendous pity. Only it doesn't. Ridiculous costume aside, this isn't a lady who looks like she must be without charm, without intellect, without a good sense of humour. We don't instantly imagine that this woman is without friends and it is by no means inconceivable that she may have lovers. She might receive some odd looks and sniggers, but we don't regard this painting and presume that its subject must have a miserable existence.

Which is comforting for the rest of us, when we feel down about our many and varied but really none too significant aesthetic flaws.


* I do of course realise that my opinion of this lady as a minger is subjective; some people may find her appearance much more attractive than I do. However, in my defense I couldn't think of a single living woman I considered ugly. I thought about various women, mostly politicians who are often described as such, but none of them really are. To me, this lady looks the way young actors look when they've had make-up and prosthetics to make them appear elderly when they have to age fifty-odd years in a movie; a much less flattering effect than what aging actually does.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Alpacas on my mind

We had another adventure, this time to Ely. We weren't long in the town, but I bought a new notebook which is always exciting. On the two journeys we saw a lot of local wildlife. Readers from overseas may wander what kind of birds and animals it is usual to see in this part of the world.

A barn owlWell, we saw rabbits, pheasants, partridges, pigeons, sheep, goats, geese and chickens, all of which are rather ordinary, though always nice to see. On this trip, we also saw a field with about a hundred and fifty swans, perhaps on their way up to the Wash. At one point a field mouse scurried across the road and at another point, a gorgeous white barn owl flew along beside us. We also saw an ostrich and a herd of alpacas.

Really. We really did. Not even in the same place. There was an ostrich in someone's back garden and a herd of alpacas, including some rather small ones, in a field. I thought they were llamas, but when I got home and looked on-line I found that they were, in fact, alpacas. If that's not proof of Climate Change I don't know what is.

This magnificent photo is by Stevie-B, licnesed under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0. The barn owl we saw was similarly beautiful, but it was in flight and if I had tried to get my camera out I wouldn't have enjoyed watching it.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Sometimes life is too exciting

I didn't leave the house for the month between Boxing Day and Friday, when we went shopping for wallpaper - an expedition only slightly less exciting than it sounds. We came home with £60 worth of wallpaper having paid only £15 (this was in Focus, if you need any wallpaper just now).

But I am wanting to get out again this week, at the very least to attend the dentist appointment that I missed a few weeks back. The trouble with this kind of rock'n'roll lifestyle is that, what with this kind of social calendar, together with all the drugs and the unrelenting sexual experimentation, one barely has the energy to write.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

The Goldfish Guide to Painting a Portrait from a Photograph in the Absence of Talent or Experience.

Portrait of the Blogger's Mother by The Goldfish, 2008Now this I am chuffed with. I've never painted a portrait before and this is roughly what my mother looks like.

Of course, I did cheat and I thought I should confess all here in case it might be useful to anyone else. I know there are a few proper artists who read here, but there might be someone who has a similar absence of either talent or experience as me.

First off, I used a photograph. Obviously. I used a digital photograph which I printed off as big as I could, which happened to be A4. I found a painting board at the back of my craft cupboard which was about half way between A4 and A3 and of the same proportions.

Using these proportions, I then drew a grid of approximate squares on both my photo and the board. You don't need to measure along the edge - you'd have to use fractions of milimetres. Instead you use that old trick from school maths where you lay the ruler diagnonally across at a multiple of the number of lines you want to draw. So for example, if I wanted my grid ten across on a board 334mm wide, I would lay the ruler such that one edge of the paper was on 0mm and one was on 400mm, then draw a mark at every 40mm. I'd then repeat this so I've got my two dots I need to draw a straight line. Does that make sense?

I then turned the photo upside down and began to copy the picture across, using the lines as a guide. Copying upside down is a very good idea if ever you're copying an existing picture, because it forces you to draw what you see as opposed to what you know to be there - I imagine this is particularly important with faces, which we instinctively want to be symmetrical and orderly, when of course they're not - especially not in my family.

Anyway, I then splodged all the paint onto the board in a random fashion, returning to it for a few minutes at a time a few times a day for several days. Okay, so that's not fair; I suppose I do have some experience with using paint, but as you may have gathered, I tend to decorate things in a cartoonish manner as opposed to proper painting.

And I have to say, that whilst the painting is a good likeness to my mother, it doesn't compare brilliantly to the photograph. So a further cheat should probably be, destroy the photograph and nobody need be disillusioned.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Listen

Echo & Narcissus had communication issuesThe ability to listen to each other is the most important social and intellectual ability we can have, but it isn't always easy. Every time we truly listen to someone, or read carefully what another person has written, we risk having something of our own worldview challenged or permanently altered.

This is why we can't afford to do it all the time; anyone who listened to or read every word of advertising they were exposed to on a daily basis would have time and energy for little else. Much of everyday social interaction requires the endurance of banality, where one must smile and nod from time to time and think over one's plans for a new type of spacecraft as your friend laments her decision to date yet another Pisces.

Meanwhile, we lack role-models. For example, to watch our MPs debate - the people whose considered decisions effect all our lives - is rather like listening to a sober version of Just a Minute; they are often less interested in the substance of what their colleague is saying than whether or not they are going to slip up. Of course, there are many occasions in politics where some detail of a word or phrase is pivotal, but when did you ever see footage of the House of Commons when someone said, "Actually, I see what you mean now." or even "That is a valid point, however..."?

Trouble is that it feels good. Sara wrote an excellent post about this just the other day. Pedantry can be fun, tripping people up and laughing at their foolish ideas. However, I think pedantry should almost always be about laughter and we should only laugh at those who we can't afford to listen to; people with inpenetrable prejudice and hatred. We need to give a little more leeway to those who claim to have similar objectives to our own (peace, tolerance, democracy, a nice family Christmas without any major rows, etc..).

It is very important to recognised shared objectives. We struggle to do this, even within the closest relationships; neither lover wishes to argue, both wish they could be friends again and yet they treat one another like enemies. In other areas of discourse we can get massively distracted by something which seems like a fundamental difference but which makes no odds to the subject at hand. Almost religious conflict involves this error; we all want to live in peace, but how can I trust someone who doesn't worship the Holy Hamster of Birkenhead?*

The Golden Rule of listening is to always assume that the speaker is as intelligent, sensible and sincere as you are and to expect at least something of what they are saying to be true. If you assume that everything a person says is bullshit, that they are bound to be stupid or unreasonable, then there's no point talking to them at all. However, if you take this approach to all those who disagree with you, you'll never learn anything and you're certainly not going to resolve any conflict.

People are never simply wrong; only ideas and arguments can be wrong, usually because of mistakes which we are all capable of making. It is impossible to correct someone when you don't really know where they're going wrong; it's no good repeatedly contradicting them in the hope that they'll figure it out themselves in the meantime. By the same score, if you don't understand another person's mistake, you can't rule out the possibility that you have made the mistake.

But this is also very difficult. Too often, we are tempted to behave as if we are right on principle; I am right because I am an expert, because I am more experienced, because I am a good person, because I am a good parent/ Christian/ feminist etc., so if you disagree, you must be wrong. I'm sure we all do it to some extent, forgetting that the other person has just as much reason to think the same about their own supremacy.

One must learn to force the mind ajar every once in a while if one is to develop in any way whatsoever.


I am using the language of spoken communication here, but of course I really mean pay close attention to what another person is communicating by whatever means; "listen" is easier to type.

* As far as I know, nobody currently worships the Holy Hamster of Birkenhead (praise be to the hamster), but if they did, they would undoubtedly advocate Treat others as you would wish to be treated just the same as everyone else in the world.