memory chain

Listening to The Stones singing Lady Jane ..one word after another ..bringing up memories one after another ..until I’m following them like stepping-stones. I’m back in college where I found sanctuary after the recklessness of high school. Taking refuge in a library ..finding solace in the words of William James and Alan Watts ..informing me I wasn’t as crazy as I thought. Days spend discussing the latest books by John Fowles and Kurt Vonnegut Jr. ..finding out who got into grad school and how. Nobody I knew wanted this to end. Playing ‘go’ in the courtyard until classes looked like a grid of black and white stones. Crowding around professors like reporters chasing clues. Spending Sunday discussing philosophy with a faculty adviser until late at night. Continuing at Hamburger Henrys’ until Monday morning and the beginning of a new cycle. I felt like an explorer with helmet and miner’s lamp ..nerd that I am.

Note: A wonderful way to follow the memory chain and find writing material (or just shed light on things) can be found in ‘Felt Sense’ by Sondra Perl ~>[link]

Coastal zone

Tribal leaders and government official say there’s fewer salmon swimming off the coast of Northern California these days. I love salmon. So, of course, I immediately suspect polluted waters ..brought about by wetland destruction ..big know-it-all that I am. I follow coastal developments like this but not nearly close enough to trust my own conclusions. I ask professor Scott at UCSB and get a completely different answer. “It’s more complicated” he says “ ..ocean currents and water temperatures change and relocate the food supply. The salmon, however ..aren’t raised in the ocean ..they’re spawned in hatcheries. As a result, they stay genetically unchanged and continue to look for food in the same location instead of extending their boundaries. Each generation gets smaller instead of adapting.” I tell him thanks ..I did not know that ..and say it definitely reassures me I’m still evolving. My ignorance knows no boundaries.

Peter Gabriel show

I’m sitting here sharing a buzz with another ‘greybeard’ named Jerry at the high school football stadium. I’m done with my workout (kinda’) and we’re sitting in the stands listening to Peter Gabriel (and his orchestra) playing at the bowl. Since it’s situated in the neighborhood of the high school; we can hear them loud and clear. There’s a panoramic sunset .. music fills the air ..and some of Humboldt’s finest fills my lungs. The bowl sits in a natural amphitheater surrounded by a community that sits on the slopes of the Riviera. It’s kind of like a bowl inside a bowl. Although my friend Pat lives above the bowl ..and his deck offers the best listening (and BBQ) around ..the high school stadium isn’t bad. Other greybeards are arriving ..as well as a young couple asking who’s playing. A light goes on when they hear the song ‘in your eyes’ however.

The loop

The Internet is not an open system. It is warped by the focus of its participants. Anyone can skip from blog to facebook to youtube to talk radio and back without encountering a single thought to challenge their own. This turns the Internet into a closed feedback loop. A closed feedback loop reinforces beliefs that may have started out as a figment of someone’s imagination. The Internet makes it possible for such insubstantial phenomena to gain widespread popularity. Without the benefit of open dialogue, insubstantial phenomena can become ‘counter-factual narrative’ bordering on delusion and paranoia. Take for instance the notion that Osama Bin Laden death was a ‘hoax’ ..or that President Obama’s birthplace was a ‘deception’. Look at where Bush’s axis-of-evil designation has led. Back in the 1960’s, historian Richard Hofstadter examined “the paranoia in American politics” and describes it as a self-perpetuating cycle. “Since the enemy is thought of as evil ..it must be totally eliminated” he says. But when the enemy is a figment of the imagination ..the bubble bursts. Instead of finding peace with that ..a new focus of attack must be found to appease the wrathful deities of discrimination ..and the cycle goes on through perpetuity. Reminds me of a Buddhist parable I once heard [link]. Anyway, I do believe the Internet has sped-up the process.

Beauty of uncertainty

In 1975, Baruch Fischoff identified a major obstacle to forming new memories ..ourselves. He found that people frequently underestimate how surprised they are when events don’t turn out the way they expect. He polled a group of students before and after the Watergate hearings. Respondents who felt Nixon would be exonerated (with say 80% confidence) .. overwhelmingly came back and said they weren’t surprised by the verdict (and remember being just over 50% confident). When people learn the outcome of events, they unconsciously go back and adjust the estimate for what they thought would happen. This has the net-effect of revising memory so that it feels as if they “..knew it all along”, which diminishes the surprise-value of information [link]. More recently, neuroscientist Moshe Bar says that surprise is what gives ordinary events the informative-value necessary for transfer to long-term memory [link]. What we retain are mostly the novel bits of information we pick up along the way. They go on to form a ‘pool of scenarios’, which we use to prepare for future events. So if we go around dismissing the surprise-value of information, we sabotage memory, lower our ability to deal with the unexpected ..and don’t learn as much from experience. My friend Audrey likes to say that we can prevent future memory loss by making a conscious effort to do something out of the ordinary everyday ..increase our exposure to what’s new ..or at least give ordinary events greater value than “..it's just the same old story.”

Psych unit

“Locked inside your head do you realize the things you say never make sense? We can sit here awhile but we don't know the half of it in your defense.” KT Tuntall

Group therapy: Rose is a recent arrival. She says she’s here because she lost her cat, which she repeatedly refers to as a ‘jaguar’. “It kept me safe” she says “..nobody fucks with you when you gotta’ jaguar.” I look at Dr Russell. He says counselors had to coax her out of room 20 at the Eagle Inn because she had rendered it toxic ..a rotten mix of soiled blankets, month-old McDonalds wrappers and fuming litter boxes. Another new admit is Jeffrey. He was sent here after leaving a handwritten note at the police station, which read: “Listen, I got 20 CIA agents protecting me where I live” and demanded a ‘monogamous pretty’ woman be delivered immediately.