Somnambulation in Education

Dozing Off on Day 6

I full well understand the special challenges facing a night class taken all in one gulp. A continuous 3-hour lecture and reading class from 6:30-9:30PM on Monday evening is a challenge to the heartiest. In each session there is either a quiz or paper due and they are always at the start. Recognizing this, fully one third of the class disappear themselves into the hallways round about the middle point—trusting, it seems, that the reading alone will prepare them suitably for the next test or essay and that our professor will notice not and keep no record. Another third of the class is locked into staring at their cell phone text messages and/or MySpace page and/or personal email and/or assignment for another class entirely. This evening, the poor bloke to my right nodded off into a sound sleep for almost an hour. Water therefore seeks it own level and the weakest and most fluid among us run to their puddles on the sidewalk.

It is not that I do not have compassion for these souls. I come to each class after a ten-hour workday. Add to that this three-hour class and hour-long total commute time and simple math tells a weary story indeed. But it is what it is and there are the remaining third of us who stay relatively focused and alert to the lessons at hand.

It is this remainder that tells an even deeper tale of weariness and wandering.

It is in their answers and input that this group falls—so indoctrinated that each answer to professorial query is steeped in a type of pandering prattle. It seems that none can challenge the authors we read—as if, though professing the Godlessness of the universe, the Gods have become the ones who themselves have declared God dead. Where I and my ilk feel free to challenge any and all except the Deity, the others feel forbidden to challenge those for whom there is none. Their answers become common—not crystalline and unique as snowflakes, but ubiquitous as raindrops—each comment indistinguishable from the one coming before. Racism, socialism, and American failings simply cannot be the answer to every question posed. Those are the kinds of answers they have trained themselves to give to the bobble-headed consensus of them all. But such consensus does not truth make.

I tip my hat and recognize one or two of my fellow students that, though they might disagree with the majority of my rooted Philosophy, at least demonstrate active and engaged minds. But how many of us total are in this group? Three? Four? Out of a roster of 40? It is worth noting that this is a senior-level course and that it might be reasonably assumed that the vast majority of the students will find their way clear to pass this course and garner their diplomas. They will apply for positions with earned degrees in Communications, Law, Political Science, Journalism, and the Liberal Arts. They will enter the workforce with the tacit assurance that these printed parchments and enhanced resumes will open the doors to their future success—unaware that free markets ultimately value performance and intelligent engagement over documentation. This is the unseen and truly democratic hand of freedom. It is the application of real learning that differentiates between an Education and a Bachelor of Arts in Sleepwalking.

Be well,

Credit Where Credit Is Due

A welcome glimmer of light on Day 5

I feared the worst, but was prepared for the best and the best is what I received. Our Written Response Papers were handed back to us and—though mine is filled with his notes of philosophical correction and disagreement written in the margins—I got an “A.” My professor also made a few solid comments that I will embrace and use to make my writing better and my thoughts more concise.

This speaks very well of him and my future experiences in this class.

We also studied a bit on the types of communication incumbent in certain music and how Blues and Jazz exemplify democratic expression. We listened to a little Robert Johnson, Son House, and Billie Holiday—how can that be bad. A good grade on my paper, some good music thrown in, and we have the makings of a good day in school.

For now and tonight, dear reader, allow me to leave this post as completed. My head aches and the weariness of ten hours at the office and three hours in class is upon me.

Until next time, be well,

The Difference is in the Definitions

The mind reels on Day 4

The reading assignments tick away beneath my reading lamp. Each one steeped more into twisted logic and bent thought. Straight lines seem impossible. For today, our first written Response Paper was due. We have been instructed to analyze informal fallacies in a written piece of our choosing. For our class, the professor has assigned a great deal of reading by one of the most radically Liberal writers of our day—Cornel West. I chose to analyze a brief passage of his work for fallacies and have just now dutifully turned in my completed paper.

Let’s see how that works out for me.

Having spent some time in the steam bath of Liberal thought has done me some good in that I have the sense that I am gaining an understanding of the thought processes that exist for the contemporary Liberal. I certainly have not mastered such depths—I am not sure that is possible or desirable—but glimpses of understanding are breaking through the fog.

Definitions are Key

• The various philosophers and writers we study in class speak of truth—but for them, truth is an impermanent and transitory thing. Truth is different for each of us.
• They speak of Democracy and Democratic ideals—but for them, Democracy is a kind of unrestricted and shifting tyranny of the populace; it is Socialism with a small “s.”
• Cornel West speaks of Nihilism—but to him, Nihilism is a loss of hope on its public face; masking the institution-destroying definition that most of us are familar with. He writes of Free Markets—but to him, Free Market philosophy carries the same definition as our classical understanding of Fascism. He defines Evangelical as to mean “by force” and militaristic.
• To these writers, Justice, Equality, and Freedom are unfulfilled promises instead of noble principles and objectives to be continually strived towards.

It’s enough to break you heart.
So when a young mind schooled in this "other" language hears of truth, justice, and the American way (to borrow from Superman), what they hear bears little resemblance to what the Founding Fathers undertook to mean. So by controlling the “meaning" of the sacred words we use, the Liberal makes us do their dirty work for them. If I say to the less-privileged that I want Justice for them—they scoff at my apparent sophistry. If I profess the democratic and freedom ensuring power of Free Markets—I am pictured goose-stepping down the halls in jack-boots. All the while feeding and reinforcing their contrivances. They make a straw man of me through sophistry.

God love ‘em….words mean things and language is a big part of culture. I shiver that our language—my lifelong friend and the reasoned Conservative’s greatest ally—may be dulled and serrated by the efforts of sinister minds.

Be well,

A Related Thought as I Sit to Write a Class Paper

I have heard it said that men choose to become Sociologists because they loath society and that men choose to become Psychologists because they loath themselves. I cannot definitively confirm those statements, but have become confident that contemporary Philosophers secretly hate truth.

Truth is compelling. Truth takes no prisoners. To the post-modernist mind, Truth is the beautiful woman who--upon discovering that she is either unattainable or, in their impotence, impossible to satisfy--they choose to despise from their self-loathing. To them, Truth is sour grapes.

Be well,

Of Sand and Stone

Day 3
Class is interesting once again. Though our class is described as Advanced Argumentation, Critical Reasoning, and Public Speaking; we tend to spend a great deal of time on Philosophy. Not that I mind terrible much—Philosophy is one of my favorite topics. It is my “home court,” if you will.

For this week we had quite a bit of reading: articles by Michael Foucault, J. L. Austin, and James Baldwin. It may seem impetuous to state so after only a brief reading, but Baldwin is a great writer. The quality of his prose veritably seeps from the pages. Note that agreement with an author is not synonymous with the greatness of an author—Baldwin steps into his own biases once or twice as we all do—but there is no denying the quality.

Foucault and Austin, by turn, are—to my mind—lesser part writers and more philosophical communicators, though no less influential and both men are widely read in academia. Specifically we hear from Foucault on his definitions and conditions of “parrhesia.” From Austin we discuss the instances of “performative utterances.” Both men attempt to define types of communication. What they have in common is that they use the words “true” and “truth” in unique ways to communicate philosophical points. In Foucault’s case, the proof of truth is evidenced by the saying of it. In Austin’s, the reality of truth is created by the act of saying.

I can see the validity in both positions, but only in the framework of their intellectual constructs. We must let authors define their terms within their own works to evidence their positions. But such definitions and constructs must remain in context lest they extend beyond the scope of their isolated arguments into areas for which they are unsuited. I detect that Foucault’s and Austin’s definitions—intended to remain contained within their litero-philosophical laboratories—has escaped into the wild. Thus, like wildfire, that which was designed as constructive wrecks havoc and damage to the psyche—cracking foundations best left whole.

It is therefore little wonder to me that those who are given first to reading the works of Foucault and Austin (et al) prior to or instead of Jefferson and Madison (et al) might feel the world more made of sand than stone, and noble ideas more malleable than authoritative.