“Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to … survive as individuals.”
This is a quote from Don Delillio, a writer born in 1926 in NYC. It brings to mind how important the sense of individuality that develops when you write is. And I think it explains why I deeply feel that everyone should regularly write (albeit merely the perspective of the social psychologist in me). See it’s tough to make make too many assumptions when you write, which in turn sparks freedom of thought.
But there’s one more thing I realize as I blog about this: while writing may be highly individualistic, the act of publishing, no matter how small the scale, is distinctly collectivistic. It is an effort for your thoughts to be known - and this involves not just yourself but virtual strangers. Writing for others sparks freedom of speech. (Call this bit the social activist in me if you will.)
Okay, so I’m not sure what my point exactly is, but I needed to put this down, if only for starters. A somewhat-related article I read in the New York Times today deals with the fascinating interaction between our language and our thoughts. Here it is. (If you don’t already have an account, you may have to sign up for NY Times, but it’s simple, free, and very worth it.)
There are two kinds of people in the world: those who divide people into two kinds of people, and those who don’t.
There are three kinds of people in the world. Those who can count and those who can’t.
The manager of an office wants to motivate his staff so he puts up a sign saying THINK above the basin in the staff restroom. Upon returning he finds a new sign above the dispenser saying THOAP!
What do you get when you cross an agnostic with a dyslexic - someone who lies awake all night wondering if there’s a dog?
A sandwich walks into a bar and asks for a pint. Barman replies, “Sorry we don’t serve food.”
An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman walk into a bar. The barman says, “Is this some kind of joke?”
And then my favourite one of them all…
A chicken and an egg lie in bed together. One is smoking a cigarette and says to the other: “Well that settles the question, dunnit?”
Apologies to cricket-watchers for this rather tardy post on Yuvraj’s six sixes from the first 20-20 games in September. I’ve sorely missed cricket in my time away. But over the years, I’d begun to forget exactly why. Well, here’s why! Think of 50 runs in 12 balls. 6 of them devilish 6s - all in one over, bowled sorrily by poor Flintoff of the English team.
Which brings me to the fact that I am (thankfully!) no flagwaver or closet patriot. I see that countries are just countries: people of one land divided and antagonized by artificial lines drawn by the power surges of history. Totally see it. But when watching a cricket match, there’s no doubting which team - and rather viscerally at that - I want to win.
Ah well, at least I know I’ll never be this dude. Right? Right!
Although typically anti all things “celebrity”, I rather enjoyed this exercise. Try it on and you’ll see why. Oh and watch me morph in to Drew Barrymore and back. Like I said… fun!
A group of people protest the war at the corner of Fair Oaks and Mission in South Pasadena every weekend. They jump around waving signs asking that you honk for peace. It’s fun and makes you feel better for a bit somehow - the simple fact of having ‘raised a voice’ perhaps. Who would have thought there could be any trouble with it?
