Perspectivism

Many philosophers have looked at the nature of living and argued that life is nothing but suffering and misery.  These sorts of viewpoints tend to assume that “philosophy of life” questions are objectively true for everyone, regardless of their perspective.  But if our various attitudes and ideas change the way we experience the world, then it may be the case that certain viewpoints make life worth affirming and others make life worth denying. 

It seems clear that how the world affects us as individuals is always shaped in some way or another by our attitudes and ideas.  We all go through various mood swings and perspectives about the world over the course of our lives and these shape our experience.   On some days certain things will make us laugh that on other days would make us furious.  The actual event taking place in the world may be exactly the same, while our reaction and experience of the event may be completely different depending on our attitude at the time. 

For instance, after watching a scary movie, a knock on the door may completely frighten us and result in us calling the police.  The scary movie shapes our perspective in such a way that an ordinary event, such as someone knocking on the door, becomes a seemingly frightening and dangerous event.  The experience of the world is different than what it would have been if we had not watched the movie. 

The physical reality of the external world takes place in a definite way and then our internal world shapes the way in which the events of the external world make us feel.  This is something we experience quite often.  We may hear a motivational speaker or have a sudden epiphany about the world; now, tasks that we once found frustrating are transformed into something enjoyable.

The trouble with ideas and attitudes as they pertain to the philosophy of life are numerous.  There is a question of what attitudes and ideas we should bring to the world and also what attitudes and ideas we are willing and able to accept.  We may desire to take a life-affirming attitude toward the world but be unable to do so for a multitude of reasons. 

If enjoying the events of the world were as easy as just looking at it in a certain way, everyone would choose such a viewpoint.  Furthermore, various attitudes and feelings about the world can depart quickly.  A great novel can leave us feeling happy about life and ready for anything – but these feelings generally fade away within a short period of time. 

While our experience of the world is affected by our attitude, the events themselves still play a significant role on our experience, regardless of our attitude.  It does not seem that I can make the experience of being tortured enjoyable by merely assuming the right mindset. 

Even with these worries in mind, the philosophical question of what attitudes and ideas we should aim for in our approach to life is still of great importance. What we are looking for a is a way to make life in general worth affirming, even if that does not result in every experience being enjoyable. 

How do we properly shape our perspectives?  We need to attack the issue from numerous fronts mentally and physically.  I have a lot to say about mental perspective shifting, but I’ll go into that on another day.  Also, a lot of perspective shifting must be highly personalized to the individual. 

But here are some very basic things everyone can do to shift their perspective positively: don’t surround yourself with negative people, eat healthy, sleep, expose yourself to a variety of media and art, workout, and sit in silence for at least 30 minutes a day.

We all basically know to do these things – it’s just a matter of actually doing it.

Various Thoughts on Rap Music as a Genre

                Rap music holds an interesting position in our culture in terms of artistic and popular criticism.  For many intellectuals, rap music is either perplexing, idiotic, or both.  There are a number of reasons for this, many generational, sociological, or psychological.  I’d like to draw out a few of my thoughts on what rap music is and what it means.  It wouldn’t surprise me if many of these ideas have been discussed before, but I must plead ignorance to most writings on rap music criticism.

                Rap music, unlike other music genres, is inextricably tied to the artist’s real identity.  And while pop and rock groups often cultivate artificial identities (see Lady Gaga, Motley Crue), any indication that a rapper has misrepresented who he is decreases the quality of his music.  For instance, if it turned out Jay-Z was not from the Marcy Projects, and instead from a wealthy suburb, virtually all of his music would immediately be rendered terrible.  In juxtaposition, a variation in the biography of virtually every rock or classical musician I listen to would have little or no effect on my enjoyment of their music.  This is not a criticism of rap music, but an example to point out the unique way in which identity informs aesthetic quality in rap music.  In pop music, we understand that Britney Spears or The Backstreet Boys are cultivating a false identity – we accept it as the nature of the genre.  In classical music, the music almost completely stands alone and is rarely informed by indirect information.

                Now, what is the nature of identity as it applies to rap music?  Generally, the better the rapper, the more we know about who they are, how they think, and how they’ve evolved.  The average rap fan knows everything about where Jay-Z’s from, Eminem’s family, Tupac’s social struggles, etc.  Once we as fans understand their identity, we understand their music.  We see where every shift in perspective fits into their big-picture development as a human being.  That’s why it is so difficult for non-rap fans to even understand what is going on in much of rap – without a certain amount of understanding of the history of rap, the socio-cultural dynamics between rap individuals, and an artist’s underlying motivations, numerous songs are virtually unintelligible or without meaning.   

What is the rap identity?  The rap identity is the modern version of the American dream: rags to riches, overcoming adversity, the triumph of the individual over his circumstances.  The experience for the listener is two-fold: (1) they view the artist as an object of admiration (the underdog overachieving) and (2) they view themselves as the artist and experience what it is like to be in their position. 

This is why rap has certain unique features that rarely, if ever, take place in other genres: rap “dis tracks” and constant guest performances on one another’s records.  Rap “dis tracks” are essentially the clash of identities between two rappers.  They are going to use music as a way to express why their identity is more genuine and actualized while their opponent is not legitimately representing who they are.  Guest performances, which rarely make sense in rock music, are commonplace in rap because it gives each artist a chance to present variations on their identity through the overall theme of the song. 

Granted, most of this discussion only applies to rappers who are consistently popular and influential throughout their rap career i.e. good rappers.  One-hit wonders of rap come and go because they haven’t understood these concepts.  Their songs are not an expression of their identity but instead capture an external feeling.  This can work in the short-term, but they will not have long-term success because the listener has not connected with them individually – they have connected with a rhythm and theme that exists outside of the nature of the rapper.   

Communication Barriers

                While reflecting on what I was hoping to accomplish through this blog, I have mixed feelings.  I’m glad that I’ve been able to post relatively consistently, albeit a very short period of time, but I still haven’t captured the direction I was hoping to go in. 

                The posts have mainly explicated theories on how I think different things work in the abstract.  Although this is what I want to write about, it is only part of what I am trying to accomplish.  I’d like this blog to draw out abstract explanations from an extremely personal point of view.  The current distance between my internal thought process and external postulations is something I’d like to destroy.  Granted, there will always be a distance because of the limitations and differences between thought and communication, but I’d certainly like to bring the two much closer together.

                That being said, this is not easy.  Such directness can run the risk of being convoluted or uninteresting.  I want more rawness but not at the expense of clarity.  I recognize that the conceptual point I’m trying to make is easier shown than explained.   In the coming weeks I hope there will be a shift in tone and perspective on the blog.  Whether this will be for the better is yet to be seen.

The Thrill of the Unknown

How quickly we get bored with what we understand.  The unknown and the confusing is what truly attracts us and keeps us engaged.

Think about when you first started a new activity such as a job or your first day of college.  Fast forward three months later.  That same job or class is completely different in terms of how you think about the people, the space, and how you interpret every experience.  The original nervousness, excitement, and enthusiasm are gone – everything has become routine and digested.

                When we first meet somebody that we’re attracted to, much of the excitement is contained in the fact that we don’t know who they are and what they will do.  Anything seems possible.  Once we get to know them, we will never feel the same way because we now understand how they operate.

                This is the difficulty in finding a job or relationship that works.  A creative job, such as being an artist, is always inconsistent and wildly unpredictable.  But the possibility of creating something new and interesting makes it worthwhile.  Routine jobs bring the benefit of predictability and clear cut goals, but it’s hard to stay continually interested in anything where you can predict what will happen in advance.  Same with relationships.  The predictable relationship is satisfying in its dependability but rarely emotionally riveting.

                Why do we like the unknown?  Because, as stated before, anything is possible.  When anything is possible, there is always the hope of a transcendent experience.  Routine behavior rarely brings up such feelings.  When I think back on my most memorable experiences, they were almost always unforeseen.  Plans and routines create massive limitations, but they also create stability.

                The concept of balance seems to be a recurring theme on this blog.  How do you create a life framework that is generally reliable but leaves ample room for unknown, transcendent experiences?

Skins

                If you’re lucky, you have never seen the television show Skins, MTV’s attempt at a show about “teen life.”  The show claims to be an accurate prediction of what teen life is really like, yet the show manages to contain zero events or characters that bare any resemblance to reality. 

                The problem with shows such as Skins is that anybody can understand what social role each person plays within ten seconds of watching.  Instead of having multifaceted characters with complex motivations, each person is defined by a singular motivation i.e. a girl they can’t have, a desire to fit in, an attempt to be a sports star, etc.  Not only is this style of writing disingenuous, it’s terribly uninteresting. 

                Teen shows and movies make it seem as if life is defined by singular, seminal moments such as prom, a first date, a championship sporting event, etc.  But this is generally false.  Seinfeld realized that life is defined by the ordinary events that make up our everyday lives.  Portraying the subtleties of a dinner party or having coffee with a friend is far more interesting and meaningful than extremely dramatic events.  Until teen shows such as Skins attempt to capture “everydayness,” they will always be cliché and boring.  This is because portraying normal events requires nuanced, well-rounded characters while extreme events tend to create archetypes instead of real humans.  

Do Push Your Luck

                Anyone who gambles understands the concept of hot and cold streaks.  When gambling on games such as blackjack, we often get an intuitive feeling that the cards are going to fall our way.  When this happens, good gamblers take advantage of the opportunity and start doubling or tripling their bets.  Conversely, we often get the opposite feeling that the table has gone “cold” and start betting less or leave the table completely.

                Life works in a similar fashion.  When things start going our way, we need to seize the opportunity and start being bold and aggressive in all aspects of our lives.  Good things tend to come in groups – a “hot streak” can permeate every phase of our existence.  When things start going poorly, we need to stop, quit being bold and aggressive, and re-analyze the various courses of action in our lives.  Things have gone “cold.” 

                Slow and steady does not win the race of life.  Gamblers who bet the same amount of money regardless of the situation almost never win; they just slowly lose their money little by little.  In life, we must be willing to go out of our comfort zone and try new things when it “feels” right. 

                Interestingly, long-term balance in life is not found in consistently neutral behavior.  Balance is found through the yin and yang of boldness when things are going well and being able to pull back and reanalyze when necessary.  Those who are consistently betting high and trying to ride out every hot streak are doomed to fail.  But those who always play it safe will never actually achieve high goals.  

Aesthetic Relativism?

*I’m indebted to the philosopher David Hume for some of these ideas.

                When we discuss works of art or culinary dishes, we generally accept that people’s preferences are subjective.  I may love a movie that you hate.  Neither of us is objectively right – it is merely our preference.  But we also feel that some works of art are objectively better than others.  It seems that The Shawkshank Redemption is objectively better than any Pauly Shore movie.  This is more than a mere preference.  How do we reconcile these two viewpoints?

                From the perspective of one’s experience, it seems absurd to say a given piece of art is objectively better than another.  Whatever the individual experiences when encountering the art is purely subjective and neither right nor wrong. 

                But it seems that some people are in a better position to judge the actual quality of a piece of art for a variety of reasons.  An expert on 17^th century French painting is in a far better position to judge the quality of a Sebastien Bourdon painting than I am.  The art critic, by virtue of his knowledge, can compare and contrast a piece and understand how it fits into the medium.  A wine critic may have better taste buds and a much wider range of wine experience than the average person.  Therefore, he or she can better judge the objective quality of a wine.  Things such as knowledge, experience, and sensory capacity put certain individuals in a better position to objectively judge the quality of a piece of art. 

                As I listen to more music, watch more movies, and better build up my sensory and critical capacity, the way I experience pieces of art changes.  I am better able to tell the actual quality of something.

                In essence, the critical distinction I am trying to make is between our individual subjective experiences and the ability to objectively analyze the quality of something.  It is idiotic to argue with the way somebody experiences a piece of art.  Experience is subjective and relative – however it felt to the individual is how it felt.  But certain people, as a result of their knowledge and sensory capacity in a given field, such as critics, are often in a better position to determine the actual objective quality of something.  For example, if I have only seen two movies in my life, and I’m partially blind and deaf, it can be objectively said that I am in a worse position to judge the actual quality of a given movie than, say, Roger Ebert.