From the Attic
Just a few items. They’re hard to find now, so I feel like stashing two or three.
Thinking Makes It So. Actually, my colleague published this one on B&W when B&W was brand-new – but after awhile I deleted it. But just putting up a link to it back here off the front page isn’t so bad.
Okay five. Not two or three, five. So sue me.
Thinking Makes It So reminds me of the Boothby Graffoe joke.
Isn’t great when you’re having an argument with someone, and you KNOW you’re right? And then you get home and you FIND you ARE right? It’s great isn’t? Like the time I thought my wife was having an affair and then I found out she WAS having an affair? That felt GOOD.
Clearly I’ll have to find out who Boothby Graffoe is.
Thanks for bringing these back — I must have missed them the first time around. “Thinking makes it so” is especially a keeper.
I’ll risk sounding like a sycophant here and just mention in passing that I love the way you write, and what you write. As the lone “rude” humanist female in the midst of gentle, lucky women who are “spiritual” and “open-minded” and “respectful of all cultures and beliefs equally,” your writings go down like a cool drink of water. Yeah, that’s what I wanted to say. The honest search for truth matters more than feeling good and sure. Thanks.
I also loved “Sense and Sentimentality.” Dead on, again. You should repost that one, too.
By the way, do you think women in general fall for the innate plausibility of “thinking makes it so” more than men — at least in our culture? There seems to be a rudimentary nod of respect towards the stereotype of the male scientific rationalist which doesn’t appear to have an analog with females — who, I’ve been told, are fulfilled through allowing themselves to accept their nature as left-brained, nurturing, supportive, intuitive healers in touch with their spirituality, inherently averse to disagreement, analysis, and other unhappy forms of disharmony.
Hey, feel free to sound like a sycophant! You think I mind? I don’t mind! Not people telling me they love the way I write, I don’t. Telling me I’m nice, or polite, or sweet-tempered, or placid, or easy-going, or a good cook, or tidy, or charming, I might. I might suspect insincere flattery, or even irony, or sarcasm, or outright mockery. But writing? That’s a whole different story.
Boy, I wish there were more ‘rude’ humanist females doing this kind of thing.
“By the way, do you think women in general fall for the innate plausibility of “thinking makes it so” more than men — at least in our culture?”
Yes. Decidedly. That’s one of the unfortunate legacies of difference feminism. I think a hell of a lot of women now vaguely think (or perhaps rather feel) that it’s inauthentic and selling out to be not spiritual and all the rest of the bollocks.
“I think a hell of a lot of women now vaguely think (or perhaps rather feel) that it’s inauthentic and selling out to be not spiritual and all the rest of the bollocks.”
Yes: if you want to create a stir in a group of women, just mention that you don’t consider yourself “spiritual.” It’s rather like admitting you hate babies, or can’t appreciate art and literature at all.
Part of the problem, of course, is that things like enjoyment of art and literature (and babies and sunsets and high ideals) are often lumped into the category of “spirituality” — right along with angels and God and bioenergetic fields — without making any critical distinctions. In fact, making critical distinctions between ideas often seems to be lumped in with criticizing other people: a distinct no-no.
What endears Ophelia to me is that she brings a tactful, dainty femininity to the otherwise cold phallogocentric discourse of scientific rationalism. She thinks from the womb, not from the brain. Plus she’s a regular miracle worker in the kitchen, creating the most heavenly petit fours, which she gives away to all the children in the neighborhood. And did you see that adorable little tartan dirndl she was wearing yesterday, the one with the gold piping? She made it herself!
The reality, of course, is that OB snarls at every neighborhood child she sees. (Well, okay, not Søren, I say hi to Søren, but he’s the only one.)
Just so, about spirituality. The word means anything and everything and nothing, therefore it gets to include music and literature and sunsets because – because nothing. That one stupid word is a great wool-factory all on its own.
“Just so, about spirituality. The word means anything and everything and nothing, therefore it gets to include music and literature and sunsets because…”
I told you already: Sky Daddy holds the patent on all things wise and wonderful. If you reject Sky Daddy, you must be cold, crude, and drearily utilitarian. You just want to fill your belly and hoard gold, that’s all. For Spirit’s sake, you just admitted that you snarl at little children (except for that future scientistic rationalist Soren: demons look after their own!).
I snarl at them, I break their toys, I grab their horrid little hats off their horrid little heads and fling them into mud puddles, I tell them there is no Santa Claus, I grab their lunch boxes and gobble the contents. They owe me, man.
Now, now. Remember, it’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.)
Come to think of it, thinking that there is nothing more important than being “nice” seems to restrain a lot of thought.
What happened to the old Ophelia, the cuddly, sweet-natured Pollyanna whose sunny disposition and gentle humor brought everyone together, friend and foe alike, and warmed the cockles of our gladdened hearts?
Oh, God. Or “Spirit” or, maybe “Lacan” oh, bother, how about “Oh, Descartes”? How did I miss this debate? :)
I have to chime in and admit that I have my work computer set to B&W far beyond what the company policy allows. Not only Olivia and Crew themselves, but you guys are some of the most hilarious commenters on the web.
“Come to think of it, thinking that there is nothing more important than being “nice” seems to restrain a lot of thought.”
That’s certainly always been my theory, and by golly I’m careful to avoid that danger!
Actually, I do think that’s true, and I have thought so for a long time. It’s another girly thing, for one thing. The imperative to be ‘nice’ does restrain a lot of thought (and a lot of speech) in women.
Nice, spiritual, intuitive – it’s all the same crap.
What happened to the old Ophelia, the nice, spiritual, intuitive girly we all knew and loved? I have a theory: She has suffered the same fate as Phineas Gage. Ever since the accident she’s been picking nasty quarrels with harmless God-fearing folk–and unconscionably rude to our dear Commander in Chief. Let’s all pray for her.
Other way around, Bub. I’ve always been this way. It would take a Phineas Gage-type accident to make me sweet and nice and non-quarrelsome. It hasn’t happened yet.