Thursday, September 15, 2005


Wednesday, April 06, 2005

The Substance of Racism and Classism

Racism is a stinging and sharply abrasive concept that is at the crux of all economic and political thought in most industrial and post-industrial societies. From the corners of toxcitiy in 1940's Auschewitz to the steamy Dixieland cotton fields of the 18th century, racism and its economic equivalent classism is a dehabilating conceptualization of one group's systematic and nefarious control of another group by supressing the oppressed group's historical and cultural relevance. Emerging in full force during Europe's imperialist conquest of the "New World," racism has left an indelible footprint on the heart of oppressed ethnic groups, destroying their culture by way of propagating written, symbolic and verbal propaganda built on a fuzzy logical foundation.

Many scholars and even laymans are quick to put racism into social context without focusing much thought on why racism exists in the first place. Jingoist leaders and nationalist figureheads do not search deep for precise justification of their injection of racist ideas through the veins of a "dystopic" society on the brink. Snazzy words like superior, and inferior are wedged into the vocabulary of the tyrannous leader, which in affect, serves as mere buzz words used to mendaciously label the oppressed classes or races so that that oppressive leader may sustain nefarious ideologies that may help him reach certain political ends. However, the substance of racism goes far beyond one "superior" class flashing it's cultural phallus at an "inferior" class. The true substance of racism is beyond the notion of there being a superior race.

Racism and classism emerges when any militant group of people use sophisticated propagandic mechanism to delude the oppressed group into believing they do not contribute to societal progression. However, the truth is the oppressed group is the primemovers of society. A small percent of a population becomes so dependent on a larger plebian group of people that if the society sustaining group was to cease, the whole economic and political infrastructure that both group make up would collapse. However, if the smaller group of people, the oppressors, were to die out, the infrastructure would maintain. Racism, classism, and even sexism is nothing but a decoy that distracts the oppressed from figuring this out.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

The Fragmentation of Intellectual Disciplines

In his essay, The Gap--The Bridge, John Wolfenden so eloquently states that the dichotomization of intellectual disciplines by educational institutions, specifically collegiate institutions, is the blame for the cavernous communication gap that lies between different specialists of their chosen field.

Forced to pursue contrasting disciplines in college, students diverge from their broad educational backgrounds established in high school and spear toward narrower studies as they desert their educational core. As a result, these students loose contact of the fundamentals that constructed their foundation as they venture, with dubious bravery, off into separate abstract studies. In effect, the communication gap of collegiate students widen as they become saturated with a curriculum of exclusive abstractions that relate to a single area of study.

For instance, a college freshman chooses math as his field of study while another chooses English. As they endeavor on their educational journey, both students become grossly out of touch as they adapt to a new language which will soon serve as a code for their future careers. The math student becomes consumed by symbols and numbers while the English student emerges himself in a sea of classical literary styles and grammatical mechanics. Consequently, both students soon become ill-equipped to participate in mutual communication between each other once they have become indoctrinated with lopsided information. The math student now becomes "illiterate" by standards of the English major and the English major becomes "innumerate" by standards of the math major. As a result, you have two students that can not communicate with each other because they were forced to become victims of institutionalized dichotomy.

Granted, because knowledge is becoming so broad, fragmentation is somewhat require. But the problem with fragmentation is that students are forcibly formed to have a total disregard for studies outside of their fields. My solution to this swelling conundrum is the intergration of one field into another contrasting field and vice versa. This would perpetuate the interest of students in contrasting fields while creating a bridge of communication that they can access.

It would only be prudent to create a bridge between contrasting studies because doing so would prevent intellectual chaos, which in effect, could create disruption that obliterate humanity's quest for universal knowledge. For instance, take the continent of Africa. Due to the scarceness of vegetation and meat centuries ago, tribes that were once singular were forced to disperse in search of food. The farther they spreaded out the more fragmented they became culturally. As a result, this simplistic activity eventually spawned hundreds of distinctive languages among people who were once the same. Sadly, now, when these tribes meet up by way nomadic whimsicality, they meet with uncommon cultures that was once common, which results in cultural entropy.

Cultural entropy may not be the consequence of scientific/linguistic fragmentation, but intellectual entropy could be. I suggest that all student urge their colleges to push for more integrated learning for the sake of your knowledge and your society.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Stanley Kubrick: Tasteless Madman or Progressive Genius

Five years ago, I was an oblivious Stanley Kubrick fan. His picturesque fragmentation of living moments compiled into dark and sometimes absurd motifs wooed me as if he was the pied-piper of theactrics and I, a loyal follower that conformed to his pessimistic paradigms constructed of spent film reels. Without considering the message of his films and their ramifications on the societal fabric of the times and times to come, I submitted myself to his eerie visuals and eccentric characters concocted from the depths of his "brilliant" mind.

When I was younger, I saw Kubrick as an artist who constructed morphing "still-lifes" to be displayed on electronic canvases, the creative godfather of his medium. His narratives were just garnishments for a baroque world of elaborate costumes and luminous lighting, controlled by my universal remote. Today, I see that apart from the splendid Kubrickian visuals that once seized my eyes, Stanley Kubrick was a director with a story to tell. And after recently watching "Dr. Strangelove" for the first time and "A Clockwork Orange" for the tenth, I can say that that story is stark, detrimental, and to be blunt, sick. Underneath Kubrick's elegant facade of impeccable camera angles and captivating cinematogrophy is degeneration and vice. The very thing that this world does not need. His films lack the high-standard of good morality that is pertinent for humanity, which is on the brink of demoralization and destruction. I have made up my mind that I can no longer appreciate his grostesque sketches of an overly embellished existential wasteland.

You hear it first, I am denouncing Kubrick's films because after intense analysis, I have come to realize that I have no further need for his dejection-inducing tales of a society on the brink. Granted, Space Odyssey is a great movie, but other than that, Kubrick is trash in my eyes. Before anyone thinks that I do not understand Kubrick I want many to know that at one time I spent days staring off into the realm of Kubrick. I use to worship this guy. But the older I get, the more I see that he is an overrated director like Spielberg (but worst, Spielberg has something good to say at times) who stands on the shoulders of giants just so he can profess his discontent for a world that he probably did not understand in its full complexity. I am realizing that Kubrick was not that great. Kubrick was just a okay director who created one great film.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

A Day of Psychoanalysis

Toady, I have a date with some therapists. Two to be exact. First, I must meet up with this "life counselor" who is going to tell me things I already know about coping with stress. Then I am going to my psychologist who is going to waste one hour of his life to analyze my deepest fears. How fun.

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

I'm Manifesting My Dreams!: A Sketchy Critique on "What the Bleep Do We Know?"

What the %#*&*'s going on!? Do I manifest my own destiny? I don't know but the director of "What the Bleep's Going On?" thinks so. And his assumptions are conveyed convincingly with the help of scientists who are a part of some of the most cutting-edge research in the fields of quantum physics, consciousness, and biology. This semi-documentary/narrative tells the story of a angsted-out lady falling into a pit of negative emotions, midlife anxieties, and how strange occurrences in her life soon redeems her thinking, leaving her with a freshly "New Agean" perspective. In the mix of this dialogue-lite story, scientists from a variety of fields go on intellectual spiels about the latest discoveries in their field. After a bombardment of stunning visuals and bizarre theories, I was left with the hunch that the rest of my life is going to be filled with more metaphysical spazazz. I got to go, but before leaving, I recommend this movie to everyone. For we are in control.

Monday, March 14, 2005

Epistemological Sarcasm

Life! Now this is some crazy shit. I was walking down the street the other day and it dawned on me that I do not know where I came from. Granted, I know that my mother and father linked up for one hedonistic evening of rubbing flesh and sloppy kisses and BAM! And I know that before they were conceived, although hard and quite disgusting to imagine, their parents got their 'grooves on' and BAM! But I am kind of unsure about the primemovers of life. Did two pulsating globs of primodial ooze fuse together in one act of sloppy romance and BAM!
...this happened.
Did a lonely subatomic particle get tired of floating in dense nothingness, so in an attempt to pleasure himself he spontaneously exploded and BAM!
...this happened.
Or did some semi-omnipotent geeky deity get tired of playing with his imaginary friend in his badly constructed fantasy world and because he was expected of a little more from his deity parent he decided to BAM!
...create this.
This life thing is kind of mysterious you know. Anyway, on a more intellectual note, did anyone see 'Dude Where's My Car?'