Category Archives: image

On invisible

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The very idea of “invisible” is a little hard to grasp. I’m not just talking about something that is really, really tiny such as an atom or an individual molecule of water, which are pretty much invisible to the human eye. What I want to talk about is something you should be able to see, but for some reason you don’t, and no, I’m not talking about stealth technology, or am I? I am not entirely sure what “invisible” means at all. The Predator can make himself “invisible” by turning on his high-tec camouflage, but that is stealthy technology that makes him hard to see, but he’s not really invisible. I think one needs to ask the hard question, can anything really be invisible that has mass? We know that a magnetic field is invisible, but it also has no mass. Light is visible and invisible according to its wavelength and the ability of the human eye to detect certain wavelengths. Again, for the Predator, other wavelengths are also visible, not invisible. Smells are invisible because the detectable parts per million are so small, we can’t see them with naked eye. If ghosts were real, they would be both visible and invisible at the same time. Certain bombers are invisible in the dark and even radar cannot seem them, but they aren’t really invisible either. Sound is invisible, and the wind is invisible, sort of. I think that it is both frightening and ironic that there are series of horror movies about men who have made themselves invisible, that the invisibility causes insanity and false grandeur. Even the tiniest bugs, amoeba, diatoms, and the like are only invisible because they are tiny and the human eye cannot distinguish anything at the atomic level. Love, or hate, are invisible, but then again, wild emotional abstractions don’t exist in the physical world other than as ideas, not as concrete realities. The closest thing to invisible in our world is the fictional cloaking device that exists in the world of Star Trek, which alters something at the sub-atomic level, changing the time phase of the object, rendering it invisible within its current physical frame and/or context. So I not only don’t know what invisible is, I also have no way of really describing it either. The actual physics of light reflecting off of an object so that said object appears invisible has yet to be truly defeated, except for the world of science fiction. None of this means, however, that we still aren’t working on it, albeit, clandestinely.

On invisible

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The very idea of “invisible” is a little hard to grasp. I’m not just talking about something that is really, really tiny such as an atom or an individual molecule of water, which are pretty much invisible to the human eye. What I want to talk about is something you should be able to see, but for some reason you don’t, and no, I’m not talking about stealth technology, or am I? I am not entirely sure what “invisible” means at all. The Predator can make himself “invisible” by turning on his high-tec camouflage, but that is stealthy technology that makes him hard to see, but he’s not really invisible. I think one needs to ask the hard question, can anything really be invisible that has mass? We know that a magnetic field is invisible, but it also has no mass. Light is visible and invisible according to its wavelength and the ability of the human eye to detect certain wavelengths. Again, for the Predator, other wavelengths are also visible, not invisible. Smells are invisible because the detectable parts per million are so small, we can’t see them with naked eye. If ghosts were real, they would be both visible and invisible at the same time. Certain bombers are invisible in the dark and even radar cannot seem them, but they aren’t really invisible either. Sound is invisible, and the wind is invisible, sort of. I think that it is both frightening and ironic that there are series of horror movies about men who have made themselves invisible, that the invisibility causes insanity and false grandeur. Even the tiniest bugs, amoeba, diatoms, and the like are only invisible because they are tiny and the human eye cannot distinguish anything at the atomic level. Love, or hate, are invisible, but then again, wild emotional abstractions don’t exist in the physical world other than as ideas, not as concrete realities. The closest thing to invisible in our world is the fictional cloaking device that exists in the world of Star Trek, which alters something at the sub-atomic level, changing the time phase of the object, rendering it invisible within its current physical frame and/or context. So I not only don’t know what invisible is, I also have no way of really describing it either. The actual physics of light reflecting off of an object so that said object appears invisible has yet to be truly defeated, except for the world of science fiction. None of this means, however, that we still aren’t working on it, albeit, clandestinely.

On ties

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I have a passel of ties, but I hate wearing them–all that rigmarole with the fancy knot. Most guys don’t know how to tie the knot, so they do a simple slip-knot, and it always looks like hash. Crooked, I mean. Sort destroys the whole point of the tie if you can’t tie it properly. They are adjustable, you know, according to my friend, Sha. As far as a totally useless piece of clothing goes, the tie is the most useless. Except if you want to keep gravy off of your shirt, the tie has no known use or value. Some guys with fat necks use ties as a cover for not buttoning that top button, but all that means is that they need to buy bigger shirts or lose a little weight. Some might say that a tie adds elegance of color and design to a man’s suit, but that is just style and caprice, meaningless, in other words. So men collect ties, always looking for that perfect shade of red or that one odd shade of gray that will look good with their favorite shirt. Many ties are just flat out ugly. In fact, most ties are flat out ugly. Murphy’s Law of ties says that no matter how you place your napkin, you will stain your favorite tie with bacon grease no matter what. Polyester ties are the worst of the worst. Pink ties? I think paisley is coming back, so hang in there paisley lovers. Murphy’s second law is that you will forget your tie for that one important interview. Never run a drill press with a tie on. Men will never throw away a tie no matter how out of style it might be or how blood-stained it might be. One should never dab one’s mouth with your tie after slobbering on yourself.

On ties

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I have a passel of ties, but I hate wearing them–all that rigmarole with the fancy knot. Most guys don’t know how to tie the knot, so they do a simple slip-knot, and it always looks like hash. Crooked, I mean. Sort destroys the whole point of the tie if you can’t tie it properly. They are adjustable, you know, according to my friend, Sha. As far as a totally useless piece of clothing goes, the tie is the most useless. Except if you want to keep gravy off of your shirt, the tie has no known use or value. Some guys with fat necks use ties as a cover for not buttoning that top button, but all that means is that they need to buy bigger shirts or lose a little weight. Some might say that a tie adds elegance of color and design to a man’s suit, but that is just style and caprice, meaningless, in other words. So men collect ties, always looking for that perfect shade of red or that one odd shade of gray that will look good with their favorite shirt. Many ties are just flat out ugly. In fact, most ties are flat out ugly. Murphy’s Law of ties says that no matter how you place your napkin, you will stain your favorite tie with bacon grease no matter what. Polyester ties are the worst of the worst. Pink ties? I think paisley is coming back, so hang in there paisley lovers. Murphy’s second law is that you will forget your tie for that one important interview. Never run a drill press with a tie on. Men will never throw away a tie no matter how out of style it might be or how blood-stained it might be. One should never dab one’s mouth with your tie after slobbering on yourself.

On narcissism

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(How narcissistic is this: write one’s own note on the subject–sweet!) I have always thought that narcissism was a very strange malady from which to suffer, but the older I get, the more I think that it might be the most common national past-time in America. Far be it from me to judge, but our “me first” society, where we give participation trophies for breathing, seems ready to plunge head-first into its own image in a nihilistic search for eternal youth, breaking new records every day in what it spends on make-up, hair products, Botox, gyms, and plastic surgery. Our obsessions, however, don’t stop with the purely physical, but extends to all of the things our consumer society deems necessary for a happy and successful life–cell phones, flat screen televisions, fast cars, Caribbean vacations, tablets and other personal computing devices, large homes–the list is probably endless. Our narcissism extends to our obsession with digitally mediated communications and our involvement in social networks and the adulation we demand from our “friends,” who are probably anything but friends. We are constantly craving more and more interaction with our friends when they “like” a status, or a post, or a picture. The more we let others stroke our egos, the happier we are, plunging us further into the watery reflection at which we stare, hopelessly in love with the changing image floating in front of us, leaving real family and friends wondering where we are. Of course, a certain amount of narcissism is healthy when mixed with a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor. When you start believing your own press clippings, you really need to be dragged back into reality. The truth is, narcissism is a debilitating and unhealthy belief that one is too smart or too beautiful or too talented to mix with the regular rank and file. The Lake Wobegon syndrome, “that all the children are above average” only leads us all to the unhealthy belief that we are special, that we walk above the masses, that we are exceptional. that we are not a part of the hoi-polloi. I would suggest that the contrary is true: that average is average, and most of us are just that, average. The myth of Narcissus exists primarily as a cautionary in which the foolish exemplar dies, alone and unloved because he believes that his personal beauty is exceptional and above all others, yet his self-obsession drives him to madness, isolating him from Echo, the woman who would save him. The story of Narcissus is both tragic and ironic because he rejects the nymph who would love him, causing her great unhappiness, but the love of the forest nymph could have saved him if he could only get outside of himself. Consumed by his own image, Narcissus becomes isolated and still more self-absorbed, which I would suggest is a metaphor for the excessive egotism which assails our obsessive consumer society. We see the narcissism everywhere–on the road, at the supermarket, speeding through a school zone. The weird side of this problem is that it defies solutions–Narcissus never came around, there was no solutions to his obsession. He was incapable of self-awareness, a self-awareness of himself as just one small part of a much larger whole. Consumed by the superficiality of his own good looks, he was incapable of loving anyone else. In the end, it was his ego which robbed him of any kind of humility which might have averted his death.

On Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

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Being just a little different can really be a big problem. The story of Rudolph is one of rejection, isolation, and marginalization that take a heavy toll on all those involved, victim and oppressors. I have never really understood why human beings have such a hard time dealing with those people (or reindeer) who are a little different. Rudolph is openly mocked by his peer group for having a red nose. This is a physical difference over which he has no control and no responsibility. Those in authority do little to stop the mocking, and even serve to make the situation a little worse by sending him home and banning him from reindeer school and the games they play. This is an old story about shame and loneliness, distrust and fear, envy and anxiety. In other words the reindeer has been openly rejected by his cohort and by the authorities placed there to keep order and teach the new reindeer. The cruelty of the situation is stunning, and although the bullies are initially rebuffed by the authority (Donner), they get what they want when Rudolph is sent away. The story of Rudolph is an allegory for those who suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune as they are tormented and bullied for reasons over which they have no control and no recourse–big ears, a funny nose, red hair, short stature, skinny body, strange eyeglasses, out-of-date clothing, odd voice, overweight body. Tolerance is not promoted or practiced because authorities have often started out life as those who dish it and are very intolerant themselves. Many people, I believe, can relate to Rudolph’s plight as he runs away, believing there is no place for him in North Pole society. He is a misfit. The fact that his story has a happy ending answers few questions for those whose stories do not have happy endings. Perhaps it is the isolation and silent suffering which is so hard to take, especially when it is your peers who are taking great delight in torturing you because you are slow, or nerdy, or not cool, or not with it. You yourself know that you are really no different than anyone else, and Rudolph realizes this as well. It is his slight physical difference which makes him a monster for all who might behold him. Once society decides that he his monstrous, then his right to live freely and pursue happiness is gone, limited by prejudice and hate. Rudolph journeys off into the wilderness, another metaphor for conflict, doubt, and self-loathing, driven away by a society that cannot tolerate the individual who controls their own destiny. Society does not tolerate difference, independence, iconoclasms, or anarchy within its social borders. Though having a red nose is nothing but a cosmetic difference that has nothing to do with actual content, having a different colored anything has always been a reason to enslave, mistreat, marginalize, or repress. Apartheid was born of racial prejudice and it flourished as a bonafide social practice for decades before it was overthrown. Rudolph’s story is, then, both profound and important. It is unjust and wrong to treat anyone different just because of some physical difference which is of no importance whatsoever. The allegory of Rudolph and his nose is an important lesson for everyone, especially during the holiday season when these differences are felt so keenly. As a final note, one should remember that the misfits of the world are only misfits because of societal constructs that make them so. Exclusion is always easier than inclusion. If there is one message that all should take from the Christmas season, it must be that inclusion is good. An elf dentist named Hermy or a Klondike loner named Cornelius show much greater heart and soul by taking in Rudolph and including him in their club than those who would dismiss them because they do not conform to mainstream ideas of image and prestige.

On noses

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I’ve never really given my nose much thought. I’ve broken it for sure once (rolling head over heals down a staircase–my fault), and maybe two other times, but none of those other time fixed the first mishap. I admire the classical aquiline nose such as one finds on Basil Rathbone, Cher, and Barbara Streisand. Best nose ever, a true blue ribbon schnoz, must go to the Spanish actor, Rossy de Palma, whose nose is both big and bent. Of course, the nose is meant to function as one of our senses and smells are a big part of life: best favorite natural smell–real lilacs; worst smell ever–rotting garbage. So the nose is there to entice you to smell the neck of your significant other or to warn you that there is a gas leak. Other favorite smells: cookies baking, freshly cut grass, a new car, a newly opened can of coffee grounds, bacon frying, cinnamon, roses and honeysuckle, rain on earth. There are others, more private, so those will have to do. Let’s just say we all have a favorite or two that we won’t share with the whole world. The smells I hate: most synthetic perfumes, scented candles, potpourri, dead things, musty flowers, stale beer, smoke of any kind, sweat, fresh tar, rubbing alcohol, and if you give me a minute, I can imagine others, including old body odor. My nose holds up my glasses, but it also gets me in trouble because sometimes it runs. Sneezing does not help a nose. Others think that noses are slightly erotic, but I’d rather not go there. Noses are not, however, on my list of repressions. Noses really help shape a face, but I never get the bump on mine fixed, nor would I have it straightened or fixed in any way. I’ve lived with it this long, so I guess we’re in it until the end. I hate my nose when I get a zit on it. My nose does not help with my snoring, which is bad. I have often felt bad for Rudolf with his red nose, being picked on for something that you have no control over is both unfair and unkind. I admire and love big noses. Even so, what is a perfect nose, anyway?