So am I any good at it? Well, I don’t know. I’m good at keeping to a strict word count – some groups and competitions set a tight limit of 250 words, others 100. But years of writing limericks and haikus as an exercise in word play and certain other pursuits have fine tuned writing within a limit. When I write to a restricted count, I like to be bang on the total; not one word under, not one over and that, I think, is the addictive part.

It’s the Wiki of fiction. But I was struck by something about it that reverberates with the warnings expounded by one of my favourite novels of all time. Fahrenheit 451 by the late Ray Bradbury tells how the world in which books are burned evolved from a world where people demanded ever shorter, more concise versions of everything.

So is flash fiction a good thing, or is it the flash point of the fire that burns our literary heritage? As a warm up exercise, no pun intended, it works for me. It takes far less investment of time and deliberation than a traditional short story. It’s far more throwaway. But that’s the thing that scares me a little about it’s growing popularity. In the world of wikis and tweets, will we soon forsake the book? Or is it all just a flash in the pan..?

ONE of the key attributes displayed by all good leaders is the ability to think for themselves.  Now that might sound a bit simple; after all, we all think for ourselves, at least to some degree.  But real independence of mind, a trait indispensable to anyone aspiring to be a leader in any endeavor, means being reality-focused all the time.  It requires will, awareness, concentration, and lots and lots of thinking.  And that is most definitely not something the majority of humans do, much to our regret.

Intuitively, and perhaps by our own experience, it makes sense that getting plenty of exercise helps us perform better not only physically, but also mentally.  Ask anyone who has gone from a predominately sedentary lifestyle to a regimen of regular exercise, and they’ll no doubt tell you they feel better, have more energy, are more alert, and can concentrate more easily and for longer.  The question is, why?  How does exercise improve mental efficacy?.

As John Medina reveals in his very readable book, “Brain Rules”, the human brain, and its capacity to reason, evolved on the move.  Pre-agricultural humans covered around 20 kilometers a day.  The cells of the brain, like all cells in the body, burn glucose for energy and produce toxic waste in the process.  The blood brings oxygen which handles the toxic waste, taking it back to the lungs where its expelled as carbon dioxide.

The brain though, uses an inordinate amount of energy.  While only 2% or the average human’s body weight, it consumes 20% of the energy.  That burns a lot of glucose and produces a lot of toxic waste and so needs a lot of blood flow for delivery and clean up.  That’s where exercise comes in.  Exercise increases blood flow, and in so doing stimulates production of new blood vessels that reach deeper into the tissues of the body.  This includes increasing flow to the brain.  Medina writes:  “…exercise literally increases blood volume in a region of the brain called the dentate gyrus.  That’s a big deal.  The dentate gyrus is a vital constituent of the hippocampus, a region deeply involved with memory formation.”

Medina goes on to highlight how studies are increasingly confirming that the increased blood flow to the tissues made possible through regular exercise, “… improves – sometimes dramatically so – problem-solving abilities, fluid intelligence, even memory.”

Medina also relates examples of the difference in old age between lifelong exercisers and those with a sedentary lifestyle.  The former are often alert, active, and sharp well into their eighties and beyond, while the former are more likely to be vegetating in a geriatric home, are twice as likely to suffer dementia and 60% more likely to suffer from Alzheimer’s disease.

Not sure what more motivation anyone would need to get out and move for 30 minutes 2 to 3 times a week.  A ridiculously small price to pay for a better-functioning mind and a longer, disease-free life.  Get to it.

This is not a post about the weather. No, it’s about the passage of Time. Few things highlight how quickly it slips away than the changing of the seasons. Children growing up, people we don’t see often looking older when we meet and the seasons. We turn them into a rite of passage. Baby’s first Christmas is so soon followed by long summer holidays from school and with the passing of every summer another year’s progress. But that all stops and as adults we carry on less governed by the seasons except to bemoan the impact on traffic or the pain of fitness classes in preparation for the beach. We still all fit our lives around the big seasonal events, women maybe more so than men.

Do we really want to wish our lives away like that? Can’t wait for summer or planning for Christmas already? I looked up this evening and it was still light at 8.15pm and I felt a pang. A grieving in advance for the dwindling days and a grieving for the days passed that will never come back. We can’t store Time and it feels like such a swindle.

No, I don’t want the nights to get any lighter. I want them to pause right here, right now, because I know that what is to come will also pass and fade like the flowers only just appearing in the garden. Tomorrow will be lighter still and the darkness another day closer. I leave it to you to decide what that means.

Then there are the more serious issues weighing on me. The large scale tragedies, like the bombs in Boston, that make my chest go cold and my perspective of the world go dark and bleak. The closer-to-home tragedy of a childhood friend passing away this weekend, the little brother of my childhood best friend and soul sister. A best friend I have had a strained relationship for years due largely to, again, my anxiety-ridden personality. Shyness, fear, stress, insecurity, phobias. All that.

I work in the nonprofit sector and I have somehow committed my life to working for good causes. “Good causes” sounds so meaningless or flakey, but the point is I’m not a one-issue person, I just want to do work that benefits people’s lives. To outsiders, it might sometimes appear to be noble and rewarding but the truth is, my decision to pursue this path has been very matter of fact. It didn’t take soul searching. It’s not warm and fuzzy. If I’m going to work, I’m going to do work that makes sense to me. The business world does not intuitively make sense to me that way it makes sense to help children eat, you know? What I’m saying is it’s not all about my values (though those are important) but it’s also just the way my brain works. It doesn’t make me a saintly person, a wise person, a mature person, a pulled-together person, or even necessarily a very good or happy person. And it certainly doesn’t make me any less anxious.

Also, I’m not religious. I am just not going to find my peace from God, I’m not, even if I wanted to, it ain’t going to happen. But sometimes I do catch glimpses of the peace I hope to someday attain. It’s not just the sense of contentment I get when I wake up early and walk outside and watch the sun rise. Nature is often one of my greatest sources of peacefulness, a calm zen feeling. And it’s good to “go there” as often as possible.

But my real, deep, burning inner peace can only come to me through my engagement with other people. Connecting with other people. Serving other people. Maybe this is why lately I’ve been feeling less interested in being so “introspective” all the time. Enough about me, you know? (Barring this post.) But seriously, enough about me. Do you know how good it is to take your attention off yourself and turn it toward someone else who needs it? Especially if you’re a navel-gazing anxious person? It’s how I find glimpses of peace.

There is a young woman who was savagely raped and beaten outside a library five years ago in Tampa; the story is well-known, especially in the area. Her attacker left her for dead, but she survived–with severe brain injuries and physical limitations. It’s a worst nightmare story. My god. Absolute worst nightmare. And yet the way her family, friends, and community have rallied around her during these last five years. She’s not the same person anymore, the old her is gone, probably forever, and they mourn her loss but they also love and celebrate the new her. I am so inspired by their constant positivity. Their strength. Their ability to make the most of each moment, to put aside the anguish of the injustice. It set something off in me tonight (I saw an update from a Facebook friend close to the family). It’s like they carry this lightness that I am missing. I let my fears and pessimism rule my life in so many ways. And I just want to give them up. And step into the world and engage with it in all it’s horror and beauty.

image credit: garybedard.blogspot.com

As a gay man, I find it thought-provoking and entirely relevant to the world we live in. But, I hope there is a lesson we can all learn from Moritz’s argument about gender and the role it plays (and how it dictates) all our lives.

I’m not interested in rehashing the last 25 years of progressive gender theory here (though who doesn’t love a good Butler read), though I am going to include this link as well, to a Ted Talk by Eve Ensler that one reader attached to the Huff Post article.

The prime example here is the phenomenon that swept the world by storm, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.   Yeah yeah, I can hear the post-modern protests already. But But But. It’s funny. But but but, it’s not hurting anyone. But but but lighten up.

I’d be less worried if I knew that everyone’s spawn actually knew works of literature. I’m disheartened on a regular basis that they do not, in fact, know much about literature at all (or care, or want to care). I fear the parody of these works (and the thriller/comedy/sex ification of them) is replacing the works themselves (insert rant on education/values/art/entertainment).

Hey, I think spoofs are funny. I think they’re only a good idea, however, when we know what they’re making fun of and why.

The decade of the reboot and the remake (not that these haven’t existed before) in such proliferation and zeal has annoyed me. I’ve enjoyed some, loathed others. But I knew the originals. Sure, some are going to argue that the reboot or remake may inspire seeing the originals. Ok, but that’s giving people a lot of credit. Yet, I’ll readily believe that people will see the original movie before they read the original book.

Flaubert spent 5 years writing Madame Bovary. Not due to laziness, but rather to an obsessive attention to words, sentences, and sounds.

I wonder how long the mommy porn author took to copy Sade’s homework before class.

Cheating on Academic Sins with an alter ego.

#priceless.

Technēpoesie.

Or so we all heard for a good 7 years in the late 80s and early 90s. More of an imperative than an performative utterance, it gets us a little closer to the bull’s eye. Recently, a judge in France ruled the auction of Hopi masks legal, as the previous owner had obtained them legally.  That seems logical.

Art Et Communication / Ho / EPA
An undated handout picture provided by Art et Communication press office in Paris, France on April 11, 2013 shows a mask entitled ‘Angwusnasomtaqa’ or ‘Tumas Crow Mother’ as part of the ‘Katsinam Masks’ auction sale at Drouot-Richelieu. care of worldnews.nbcnews.com

Yet, the complication is in the role the masks play for the Hopi, who view them as living things, sacred beings. Naturally, money and collecting are involved (un passe-temps du 19e siècle), so the dispute over the masks’–scratch that. The dispute over the legality of the sale was hauled before a judge, who subsequently ruled that since the current owner had obtained them legally, years before, the masks could be legally auctioned.

The most frightening part, I think is the power that the law wielded here and invested in others:

Before starting, the auctioneer, Gilles Néret-Minet, told the crowd that the sale had been found by a judge to be perfectly legal, and that the objects were no longer sacred but had become  “important works of art.”

The ability of language to perform is powerful indeed. Big magic. In one deft tongue maneuver, Néret-Minet changed the status of the masks from sacred beings to important objects all because of another performative utterance, the legal ruling.

The irony, perhaps, is in this line:

[Néret-Minet] added, “In France you cannot just up and seize the property of a person that is lawfully his.”

Whew, well I sure feel better now.

Suddenly, Judith Butler, Michel Foucault, Jacques Derrida, and Eve Kosofsky Sedgewick surge out of the dry pages of theory and into the consequence-filled world of practice.

I don’t clearly remember what I wrote. It was another one of those sessions of switch off conscious thought and let the story write itself.  Of course it still has to use my fingers to tap out the words but when I come out of it, I feel as rested as if I’d been in a deep sleep. That makes me wonder if it is a sub-conscious thing altogether and while it goes on my conscious mind is indeed asleep. I know I killed people. I should probably hope I was here writing the whole time and not in fact in the throes of some psychotic break brought on by stress and an accidental overdose of pills. I’ll keep an eye on the local news just in case.

There was an entire sub-plot that I didn’t like which I think I completely deleted and replaced with something totally different. So I killed three minor characters there too. Well, they served no real purpose. I can remember writing their pitiful part in proceedings and remembering is never a good thing. Remembering means I had to try too hard to write it. Not remembering has its own inherent problems of course. I have a lot of reading back to do before I go on or I won’t know what’s going on in my own story. Might be pleasantly surprised or might be horrified. Although if it’s supposed to be horrific and it is, that’s a good thing, right?

The more I think about it, it has to be a sub-conscious thing. I didn’t so much as move except to type in all that time. I’m someone who always has to have a drink to hand, usually a cup of tea, and not only did I not take a sip but there was more than half a cup of stone cold lapsang souchong beside me when I stopped. Wasn’t aware of any aches and pains but it turns out my back is killing me and I didn’t notice. I was in effect not really here.

I’ve read about automatic writing as a means to contact the hereafter. To do it you must enter an altered state of consciousness. How different then is it from this? And if it isn’t any different, which of these is true: that people for hundreds of years have scribbled from their own sub-conscious believing it to be a spirit, or that I am not in fact writing this novel but am channeling the spirit of a writer?

Now I must make breakfast before my state of consciousness becomes easily defined as ‘un’.

When I awoke today on LA time my phone was full of impertinent digital eulogies. It’d be disingenuous to omit that there were a fair number of ding-dong-style celebratory messages amidst the pensive reflections on the end of an era. Interestingly, one mate of mine, a proper leftie, in his heyday all Red Wedge and right-on punch-ups, was melancholy. “I thought I’d be overjoyed, but really it’s just … another one bites the dust …” This demonstrates, I suppose, that if you opposed Thatcher’s ideas it was likely because of their lack of compassion, which is really just a word for love. If love is something you cherish, it is hard to glean much joy from death, even in one’s enemies.

And Feministing brought my attention to this gun control ad, as well as this powerful quote from Amy Davidson, senior editor at the New Yorker magazine: “How do we find ourselves asking kindergarteners to be more courageous in the face of a gunman than politicians are in the face of the gun lobby?”

“I’m sorry. You tried and you failed.”

How many times do our kids hear or read these damning, undermining words?

Every time they hand in a paper to be graded, every time they sit a test, every time they raise their hands to answer a question, they are leaving themselves open to either a direct or an implied pass or fail judgment.

Let’s change the culture in the class room.

Let’s make it absolutely clear that we are here to learn, that learning requires risk taking and risk takers are a lot more interested in practicing things, in getting better and better at them, and not so interested in passing or failing.

What would this look like in a classroom?

Teachers ask a lot of questions.

Scenario 1

Teacher asks a question, lots of hands go up.

Student A answers and the teacher says “Thanks John, that’s right.”

What happens here is that student A knows he has ‘passed’, as does everyone else. Everyone else can now stop thinking.

Scenario 2

Teacher asks a question, lots of hands go up.

Student B answers and the teacher says “No, Lizzy, that’s wrong. Does anyone have a different idea?”

What happens here is that Lizzy knows she has failed and has to deal with this and everyone else knows that failure is an option so the risks involved in answering just got higher unless you are sure you are right.

Scenario 3

Teacher asks a question, lots of hands go up.

Student C answers and the teacher says “Thanks Alan. Who else has an idea?”

No judgment. No closing down of thinking because no doors have been closed. No fear of being wrong. Thinking continues.

If the teacher asks a question and withholds judgment, either positive or negative, the thinking will continue and risk taking will continue. Learning has a much better chance of continuing too.

Students do a lot of writing and teachers read what they write.

Grade two have been working hard on spelling patterns. They have been exploring the ‘ph’ digraph and looking for words that contain it. In a writing passage one child spells elephant like this ‘ellephant’.

Scenario 1

The teacher draws a red line through the word, indicating it is incorrectly spelled. The child has failed.

Scenario 2

The teacher places a series of small check marks above the e, the second e, the ph, the a, the n and the t. The teacher circles the ll. The child knows she got six things right but needs to work on one thing. She needs more practice. it’s not a matter of right or wrong, of pass or fail.

Share some of the practices in your classroom that change the culture from a pass/fail culture to a culture of practice.

As my daughter said to me this morning “I never fail, I just practice a lot. Sometimes I didn’t know I was practicing until later!”

Having a job is a lot like playing an online game. There are a huge amount of people, who no matter how you try to help them, will continue to fail.. and fail proudly. Now I am all for taking the alternative route.. and sometimes there is no true “right way”. Though you should really ask yourself sometime, “Am I in a position, that if I fail to fulfill my role, that it affects others in a negative aspect?” Sadly, most people I’ve met won’t do that. Or, to put it more bluntly… they could really care less who they affect. Which in turn goes back to the whole gaming metaphor. Are your guildmates with you for the progression of everyone? Are they in it for personal gain, just to jump to another guild that is farther along after they gear up?

Life is not a static thing. Everything is in a constant flux. Be it emotions, trends, or even time itself. People come, and people go, but those who use others as stepping-stones really grind on me. As a human being, you have a right to your own happiness. That is a given. Though if your happiness has to come at the expense of others, is it really worth it? Oh well… just a thought.

Dr. Harry Binswanger

I’ve been making notes for a to-be-written-at-some-stage book the working-title of which is “Beyond Emotional Intelligence“.  I enjoyed Daniel Goleman’s book, Emotional Intelligence, but always felt that it did not really define or explain emotions that well.

In this lecture series, Dr. Harry Binswanger, does.

This really is a masterful analysis and presentation of what emotions are, how they arise and what they’re for.  It deserves to be far more widely known, so once you’ve listened, spread the word.

Topics covered include:

• Emotions and awareness
• Emotions and value-judgments
• The biological function of emotions
• The role of the subconscious in emotional responses
• Emotions distinguished from other affective states
• Principles of classifying the emotions
• Emotions and cognition
• Emotions and objectivity
• Intellectual techniques of analyzing one’s emotional responses
• Emotions and moral choice
• Emotions and moral judgement of self and others
• Emotions as advocates, not judges.

It’s over three hours long, but goes quickly because Binswanger is a good speaker – easy and entertaining to listen to.

Given that emotions play such a large role in your life, can you afford not to understand what they are and where they come from?

At $1.75, there really isn’t a decision to make.

Get it here:    Mp3

I am a public interest attorney, working at a social justice organization. At work, we analyze the intersections of social policy and justice policy and government to find ways to improve them and strengthen our community.

Part of what I do is monitor pending legislation to make sure we’re paying attention to Bills which impact our mission or projects. Although it’s not related to anything we’re doing at work, I’ve been paying attention to the Comprehensive Sex Education Bill moving through the Illinois House.

The Bill, HB 2675, creates a standard for existing sexual health education courses. The standard requires that sex education curriculum in Illinois must be medically accurate and age-appropriate and must offer complete information. It does not require schools to offer sex education; it simply requires that sex education curriculum be medically accurate and offer  instruction on both abstinence and contraception for the prevention of pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV/AIDS.

“Sex is Dangerous” by Timothy Takemoto (Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license)

This sounds precisely like the sex education unit taught as part of advanced placement biology class I had in junior high school. It was clinical, and awkward, and embarrassing, and quite thorough. (Although it was 1985, so I don’t think we had any HIV education. I don’t recall it, in any event).

Anyone who believes that knowledge is power will recognize that comprehensive, accurate information is crucial to decisionmaking. Anyone who believes we should empower youth to make good choices should understand that the curriculum which this bill designs will give teenagers access to the the tools they need for good decisionmaking.

I hope this bill passes. Whether we want them to or not, eventually, the people who are messy, chaotic, poorly-appointed, befuddled teenagers right now will be the people with all the power in the world. We want to help them make good choices from the very beginning.

Knowledge is power because through knowledge right decisions are made.

I know a lot of people my age and younger will roll their eyes, but I have a few reasons. Firstly, I am a very empathetic person. I don’t like to see other people hurting, stressed out, or in pain. Though that doesn’t mean I like action or horror movies as a rule.. it just means Id rather watch an animated movie than an episode of CSI or Criminal Minds. Most people will just say that cartoons are mindless nonsense, but they still serve a real purpose.

I find my life a lot easier when putting on random cartoons in the background after an overly stressful day work (if there isn’t a new Dr. Who) really calms me down and helps me forget some of the real-life crap I have to deal with. Though when I think about it… I guess video games and writing.. and just about everything else does the same. Its all about safe escapism, and to be honest, Id rather watch cartoons and play video games than drink my life away or spend it in a drug induced coma.

Cel mai vizibil semn de întelepciune e o buna dispozitie continua! 

Doi tigani la Portile Raiului.
- Nu stiu ce sa fac cu voi, sa-l intreb pe Dumnezeu!
- Trimite-i la Dracu, Petre, sunt niste hoti!
Dupa cateva minute Sfantul Petru intra iar la Dumnezeu.
- Au disparut, Doamne!
- Cine, tiganii?
- Nu, Portile Raiului!

I can see why so many are waving little flags of triumph as though they went out and killed her themselves. Particularly in the North of England a lot of bitterness toward her still exists. She did a lot of harm here once upon a time, some of which still hasn’t recovered. Once upon a time, a long time ago.

But. And this is a very big but. Margaret Thatcher was the strongest leader Britain had seen since Churchill. She was not only the first woman Prime Minister but she changed the face of British politics on both the national and international stages. Mrs Thatcher truly believed that Britain was still Great Britain and did not need to rely on its former glory for respect. She went out there and she took on the world, standing tall next to leaders that have dwarfed each one of ours since.

Few people can claim to have the courage of their convictions to the extent that Thatcher did and she stuck to her principles no matter what. One does not have to agree with her beliefs or actions to recognise the sheer strength of the lady and for that alone she is to be admired.

Her eleven year tenure of Number 10 made its mark in so many ways that people are quick to forget about. I read in the Guardian the words of President Obama that echo my own sentiments:

Here in America, many of us will never forget her standing shoulder to shoulder with President Reagan, reminding the world that we are not simply carried along by the currents of history—we can shape them with moral conviction, unyielding courage and iron will.”

He added that her premiership was “an example to our daughters that there is no glass ceiling that can’t be shattered”.
The Guardian

Women of Britain, whatever their political beliefs, should be celebrating the life of someone who opened so many doors for us by her very existence.

At the end of her life, what I saw was a lady shattered by the loss of her husband. Without him she rapidly declined and that tells me that whatever else she might have been, she was a human being who in her own way knew great love. There can be no celebrating the loss of such a person. Today, 8th April 2013, she was a frail old lady suffering dementia and having had numerous strokes finally succumbed to one. She was a wife, mother and grandmother.

I can’t celebrate that someone passed, no matter what they did in life. I definitely can’t celebrate the passing of a frail old lady who once held the world in her thrall. No, I will gladly say that to me this is a sad day because such a remarkable woman has gone from our midst. It makes nothing better that she has gone, repairs none of the hurt that she did, augments none of the good.

I will not smile that Thatcher died.

huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the

vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars,

yet they pass by themselves without wondering.”

–Saint Augustine

I read a thought-provoking post on the subject of busyness recently that got me reflecting about this subject a bit.

Everyone seems to be “busy” lately. In fact, it seems to have become the “go to” answer to the perennial question “how are you?”  ”Busy,” we say, to anyone that will listen. We’re really, really, busy — crazy busy in fact. We’ve got lists, demands, obligations, expectations and we’re never done with them. We’re important because we’re busy. And we’re needed. We’re so busy that we’re stressed and tired and never have enough hours in the day to get everything done.

I don’t know that many of us have thought about the impact of this one word on ourselves and on others. In addition to projecting self-importance, “busy” accomplishes a number of things. “Busy” sets up a wall between people that’s hard to get past. When someone tells you they are “busy” it sends the message not so subtly “don’t ask me for anything” or “don’t make any demands on me.”  ”Busy” keeps friends and colleagues at arm’s length and says “I really can’t be here for you right now.”  It minimizes the opportunity for connection. “Busy” is also a bit dismissive and vague. How different would it be to say,”I’m great and I’m working on some really interesting projects right now.”  That’s a conversation starter — whereas “busy” tends to block further inquiry.

To be sure, every one of us has times when we’re trying to finish a project or meet a critical deadline and we’re legitimately flat out. But you know what?  With all of the busyness, each and every one of us finds the time for what is most important in our lives.

I have a lot of projects and priorities. I have lists of my own that I will never finish. But I don’t want to be that person that’s too busy to take the time to really connect or to pause for the things that matter.

I invite you to join me in consciously letting go of “busy” as a lifestyle choice.

Click on the switch…

WHAT can you do today to make things better?

What small step could you take to make yourself a better person?  What little action could you take to improve a relationship?  What innovation could you introduce in your workplace that would make a difference to everyone?

The difference between what is, and what could be, is your effort.

Your effort to dream about what could be.

Your effort to map out a route to the new.

Your effort to embark on that journey and stay the course.

Leadership is not rocket science.  It’s not mysterious.  It’s not complicated.

Stripped down, good leadership is simply that process:

How could this be better?  How could we get there?  Okay, Let’s go!