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We seem to have less time for quiet reflection - be it art or music or a good book. Our homes, once places of sanctuary, are increasingly intruded by responsibilities that should have been left at the office. For our down time, we have a monotonous array of entertainment choices, as if the sheer weight of it would numb us into submission, and make us forget.
Yet we don't have to accept this. In our work lives, we can remind ourselves that life is more than how well we perform, or much wealth we can create for ourselves or others. We can restore a sense of intimacy in our lives by interacting with others in unselfish ways.
And we can use new technological tools in positive ways. Remember that a friend or loved one is often only a phone call, letter or an e-mail address away. So, every now and then, come up for air, take a deep breath - and if only just for a moment, reach out to somebody.
The previous summer, her parents took her on a vacation to some island in the Carribean. One day while there, her dad was driving through the city with the family, and they passed by an ice cream stand. She got very excited and begged her her dad to stop off and buy her an ice cream cone. So he parked the car and they approached the vendor.
As they waited in line, there was this little boy not much younger than she was, with a pair of hungry eyes. At that moment, ice cream was the one thing he wanted in the world, if only he could pay for it. As an act of kindness, her father bought him a cone as well.
They returned to the car and circled around the block to get back to wherever they were headed. And as they were driving away, she looked out the window and saw the same boy by the road side. He was sobbing, and in front of him was melted ice cream.
MP3 audio compression removes sound normally beyond the span of human hearing. Its "lossy" compression scheme is similar to removing individual frames from a movie, and then guessing the missing frames by using the remainder as a reference. The end result is that you have a reasonable, but not perfect, facsimile, of the original sound recording - at roughly 1/10 of the storage space. This makes it perfect for downloading, but the downside is that MP3 files for the most part can only be played on a personal computer.
Twenty years ago, the "threat" was home taping. People would copy records onto high-quality magnetic tapes, which could then be played on a car deck, and there was sound degradation here as well. I think major record companies are much too alarmed over all this. That is because true music fans will always want the highest quality recordings and buy the CDs. Downloading an MP3 no different than listening (and recording) songs heard over the radio. Many artists right now are using this new technology to effectively broadcast their own material over this new medium.
Lars should be reminded that it was through his home taping that James Hetfield first encountered Diamond Head, one of Metallica's biggest influences. I would prefer that he keep quiet, look the other way, and quietly applaud when those they have identified as "thieves" finally decide to go to a record store and buy a Metallica CD (including the packaging, graphics and liner notes).
It should be noted that percussive tracks (for various reasons) tend to suffer the most in the translation from CD to MP3. I sampled a 21-second Cozy Powell drum solo from Brian May's "Resurrection" (1992), and converted it into several MP3 files - one each for 128, 160, 192 and 256 kbps. At 128, the solo was too flat for my taste. It got sharper and sharper, until it reached 256, where I could barely distinguish the original from the MP3 file.
Do you like the MP3's you've heard? Now go out and buy the CD and give the artists their due.
After the meeting, I walked through the hallways of the third floor for the first time in over ten years, but something felt strangely out of place. Maybe it was the color of the lockers, or the Alanis Morrisette angst-rock playing over the speakers, but it didn't feel completely right.
There was a custodian who said hello to me upstairs. As we talked, he explained to me that his wife used to be a secretary at the school back in the 1970s. Pointing to the security cameras, he said that many things had changed over the years. And before I walked out of the exit, there was one other thing he said.
"They called it the donut." Long before the Atrium and security cameras and Alanis, that was the nickname of this place. Maybe I'll come back in a year for the next meeting, but I doubt I'll ever look at it the same way again.
One of the things I learned from my youth is that people become very frustrated they sense that you are less than truthful. For me, the biggest difficulty is that sometimes I did not fully possess a sense of "what is true", and when required to give an anwer, responded by seeking refuge in the language of ambiguity. There are the answers to the questions at hand, and there are answers to the larger questions - accuracy serves the former, ambiguity the latter.
Someone might argue: "Here is a person who has been convicted of a crime. He's a bad person." I would respond - "You can't say he's bad. Even if he did wrong, you can't judge his motives." To take that to the extreme, I would include everyone from petty thieves to mass murderers and war criminals. Our actions do not define us, they are only outward resolutions of our inner struggles. Bad actions do not emanate from bad people - only from a disordered or incomplete judgment. A general principle is that a human being is more than the sum total of his actions, and has the capacity for both good and evil.
A legal judgment suggests a search for the truth, on the basis of the facts that are known. A less than adequate prosecution or defence, and false or not fully revealed evidence, and the bias of the participants - all point to a very human and fallible system. At the end of a trial we still ask the question - do we know the truth? Is what we know enough basis for a judgment? (I am grateful for never having pursued a career in law - the uncertainty would destroy me.)
I read somewhere that when you tell the truth, tell the hardest truth first. If that truth hurts really badly, is that a sign of bad character when it is told? Or is a testament to someone's courage? Should a hard truth be diplomatically stated to soften the impact? Or shouted from the rooftops at the top of one's lungs? Or, alternatively, should it be kept hidden in the service of some greater truth (even if that is not yet known?)
What is the worse error - to tell factual truths, but with less than truthful intent, or to be true in spirit, but inaccurate in the details?
Can a story - false or fictional - tap into something so deep that something false on one level could be considered sublimely true on another? And when a loved one tells a lie, are we obligated to believe it, simply because it was told so convincingly? Do we have a duty to discern the truth at the heart of that lie?
Is there truth in love, hope or happiness? In pain and sadness and grief? Is there truth in beauty?
I think that we have always needed epic stories. These are the legends passed from one generation to another, and gathered into scrolls or books. Poets would spin tales of historical figures, making embellishments here and there. Sometimes the form would change - the names, the details - but the stories endure. It is a testament to the transformative power of myth in people's lives.
Hollywood Movies continue the traditions of old, with images such as the chariot race in Ben Hur, Luke Skywalker dueling his dark father on a clouded city in the sky, or Mel Gibson's William Wallace leading his countrymen into battle. And now we have Ridley Scott's new visual masterpiece, "Gladiator", set in 180AD in Rome.
No, there wasn't a General Maximus. But there was a Roman Empire, which spread civilization and the rule of law over the known world. There was a Marcus Aurelius and a few mad emporers, and there were gladiatorial games in which people died. And in Rome, as in every era of history, there was both corruption and high ideals.
In Ridley Scott's "Gladiator" all of these elements are brought to the fore. Russell Crowe's Maximus is a larger-than-life hero in every sense of the word. Loyal soldier and dutiful father and husband - he was stripped of everything he had, after the mentor that he loved (Marcus Aurelius) was assassinated by his power-hungry son (Joaquin Phoenix). Sold into slavery and forced to fight in the gladiatorial games, Maximus was torn between exacting vengeance on those who murdered his family, and fulfilling the wishes of a dying man. All this took place before the mob of Rome in the heart of the Collosseum.
This is powerful stuff, spread across 2 1/2 hours. It was so compelling I had to watch it a second time.
Strength and honor.
But it's the fourth school, the Stoics, that interests me the most. These were men who practiced virtue for virtue's sake, and held a realistic view of the world. They mistrusted love as an emotion, while at the same time embraced the principle of universal love. One of the proponents was Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius, who expounded (after Plato's "Republic") the four cardinal virtues: wisdom, justice, fortitude, moderation. He wrote - "Since it is possible that you may depart from life at this very moment, regulate every act and thought accordingly." This reminds me of a Muslim proverb that we should live each day as if it were our last.
Bertrand Russell, in his sweeping "History of Western Philosophy", relates how one of his most seductive temptations was the desire to retire to a quiet country life. I am reminded of a scene in the motion picture "Gladiator" - a ficitonalized account of his era - where Russell Crowe's character, General Maximus, tells the dying Caesar of his wish to retire from the military, become a farmer, and raise his family. But out of a sense of duty, he is persuaded instead to accept the position of Protector of Rome, to guard against its coruptions, and prevent his evil son Commidus from taking power.
In its heroic larger than life canvas, "Gladiator" exemplifies some of these virtues. Maximus possesses a filial piety to his family and his country. He led in battle, not for personal glory or bloodlust, but in the service of Rome and its ideals. Unlike Marcus Aurelius, his character did not have doubts in the afterlife - it was the memory of his family (and hope of seeing them again) that motivated him in his darkest hours.
One of the most attractive features of stoic sentiment is that - like existentialism - it is built more on endurance than hope. That though we may ultimately fail, we must do so with nobility and patience. Like Sisyphus and his rock, we must keep trying and not give up.
Regret is the feeling we have when we look back at a particular juncture where, had we said or done something differently, our life may have may have gone in a different (and perhaps) better direction. This theme has been explored in literature and popular culture - including motion pictures such as "Sliding Doors".
For a few moments, I thought really hard at the question. In my life, there have been specific instances of incredibly bad judgement. Or words rashly spoken that should have been left unsaid. Or where important personal decisions were made after much forethought, and followed through, only to watch things fall apart in the worst possible way.
My answer was firm - I would not change a thing. Nearly two years after that conversation, I still feel the same way. Let me explain.
Firstly, it is my belief that nothing would fundamentally change if one event or another went another way. Even though circumstances may have been different, our overall outlook - that is, our patterns of thinking and doing things - would likely have led our lives down similar paths (and many of the same mistakes). This is no different than a painter who duplicates one of his own works, changing details here and there - such as the color or position of a particular object - only to find that the second painting - albeit with a few less perfections - is not all that different from the first. Some of the details may be different, but the soul of the work is the same.
Secondly, even if life could change in a fundamental way, I would argue that this should still not be done. Everyone has in their lifetime made mistakes, or has pondered the way things could or should have been turned out. These are the moments that haunt us, our demons, but they are also part of who we are. Therefore, the desire to exorcise them is an act of self-hate. In this sense, regret becomes a self-destructive act.
Thirdly, we already have it in our power to rewrite history. There is nothing preventing us from looking at older events in entirely new ways, using age, experience and what little wisdom we have learned as a guide. Because ultimately, regret isn't about the problems of the past, but of the present. In this re-interpretive process, it is the future that is being rewritten. The figures and images from the past are merely a guide.
By making peace with our imperfections - the sources of regret can have a positive transforming effect on our lives.
My mother did not discover who despoiled the next, only that one of the eggs was broken. She asked what could have happened, and I feigned innocence. She then told me that when something of this nature occurs, the mother bird always abandons the nest, and the remainder of her young. I felt terrible. Because of the dropping of one egg, I had in effect condemned her entire family to death.
I think we gave the empty nest to a cousin, which she then used for a school science project.
Thinking about this story still makes me feel ill.