Wheels, part deux

When I spoke of diversity as life, I was speaking on a level much larger than the individual, or even the community/species - thus the ecosystem example.  To borrow from Quinn again, take for instance a system that involves one type of plant, one type of herbivore, and one type of carnivore. If any of these three die, all three die.  In order for there to be survival (in the greater sense) there needs to be diversity; multiple types of plants the herbivores can eat, multiple herbivores that thrive in different conditions etc. etc.

Now, to bring this back to the round/square wheels thing - yes, as Stirling posted in the comments, the round wheels are optimal and thus the most likely solution.  However, I'm going to have to disagree with the idea of there being only one optimum solution while agreeing with it (bear with that contradiction in terms for a moment.)

It all depends on what the goals are.  To repeat the quote: "All who make wheels, make them round."  Making a round wheel is reliant, to a degree, upon the intention to make a wheel.  If the intention is different - say, locomotion instead - the results begin to vary.  I realize this seems self-evident.  Where importance comes in is in realizing when we're trying to make wheels and when we're just attempting to move from point A to point Z.  

Part trois coming.

Square Wheels

While reading one of S.M. Stirling's fantastic novels (Go! Buy! Start with Dies the Fire) I ran across a quote that jarred me with its validity.

"Those who make wheels, make them round."

Stirling places this line in the context of a religious discussion, where it is indeed apt, but upon reflection I began to see the enormity of scope it can reference.

The idea encompassed goes beyond that of unconscious similarities in the methods or results of those with the same general goal.  It makes me wonder about the finiteness - or infinity - of creation, creativity, and diversity.

Diversity is life.  One needs only look at any ecosystem to realize and understand that.  An ecosystem without diversity will not survive.  (For more on this idea, read Daniel Quinn's incredible works: Ishmael, My Ishmael, Story of B, Beyond Civilization, and The Man Who Grew Young.) 

More to follow in future edits; just throwing this idea up in a mini-post to start some wheels (square wheels?) turning.

Working...

Working a 50 hour week (or two or three...)

Working on the JET program application process...

Working on keeping my sanity...

More posts soon.

Processes

Everything is related to process - everything we do, we do according to a process. Sometimes these processes are not conscious; an example being of course things like digestion and normal, unaware, breathing. Just as it seems there are an infinite number of actions in the world, so there are an infinite number of processes. After all, a process is simply how one does something.

A problem arises, however, when people forget the variety that defines our world. Having worked retail and foodservice, I have seen firsthand the results of people being crammed into a process that does not fit them. It's like attempting to put on a too-small shirt made of flimsy material... first the seams split, then the fabric itself, and no one is left happy. The headdesk part of the situation though is the existence of millions of other shirts behind a door everyone ignores. Routine being comfortable, or at least convincingly difficult to get out of, the door of change and diversity remains firmly shut.

I'm guilty of this on a personal level - that's what this post stems from. I had it so set in my head the way I should write and what I should be doing (what process I was supposed to be working off of) that I, ultimately, paralyzed myself.

Luckily for me, I have a genius for my other half. While at dinner last night, Andy pointed out how I've been limiting myself.

The result was exultation and personal epiphany.

Writing, technology, and relevance - Part 1

I write this initially with pen and paper; the greatest technology used being a clipboard. There is something joyous and almost spiritual in writing by hand. The words take on a personality beyond their definition and context; the traits of the markings themselves convey and infer further connotations. Here, the cursive speeds up, becoming less defined and more of a straight line as thought straightens. Here, there is a mixture of styles as thoughts spatter about. Here, a 't' is not crossed, an 'i' left undotted. Misspellings, scribbles, annotations and illegibility. Handwriting can quickly become a chaotic creative cauldron we word-witches brew letters and symbols in to produce a potion of manifested, tangible, thought.

Though I know as I write this that it will be posted on-line, I find myself in a different mindset than occurs while typing and looking at a screen. There is less distraction, less extraneous tools. I feel more free to just write, knowing I'll be able to edit later as I type.

Two nights ago I had a conversation with my software engineer boyfriend about the relevance of technology to certain fields. The obvious field to come into question and under discussion was mine - writing, literature, and so forth. The technology needed for the actual work I do is minimal. Humankind has long been writing in one form or another. What was eventually brought up was less technology's relevance to the actual work and more its impact on the sharing and distribution of the work.