Monthly Archives: March 2016

First, it’s been a hoot and a half blogging with you all. Thanks to the people who actually took the time to read all my poorly articulated and frustrated thoughts this year. I can definitely say (without crossing my fingers or truth stretching of any kind) that I gained a boat load of insight from all of you.

But despite this, bonafide “Aha” moments in ASTU were hard to come by. Maybe I’m just being pessimistic, but I’ve found that it has been fairly uncommon for anyone to waltz out of the classroom this year bouncing with weightlessness from an uplifting discussion. No, our scholarly musings generally functioned more like a magnifying glass on the densely compacted troubles of our time, succeeding not only in enlarging the issues but somehow subsequently multiplying their heaviness.  All this is to say that we deal with some darkness in ASTU. And when I think of “aha” moments, the accompanying imagery is generally more along the lines of your typical Einstein lightbulb epiphany, rather than plunging headlong into a black abyss of questions regarding trauma, terrorism, and xenophobia. It is saddening, and sometimes I would rather push the thoughts aside.

But I hate to obscure reality with idealism or a falsely constructed sense of peace. There is no questioning that we need to search through this darkness for a light more permanent than the little sparks of greatness that give us hope to keep going. Could it be that just as we are getting close to finding it, we burn out, unable to devise something stable for the next generation, and they are enveloped by the darkness without a clue just like we were? I refuse to believe that we are condemned to this type of cyclical existence. I have to believe that our efforts are worth something, and that the efforts of everyone before us were worth just as much. Maybe the aha is that for now we must continue to end our thoughts with a frantic barrage of questions – not just because we don’t know any other sound way to conclude a blog – but because we must combat the temptation to fall into pessimistic complacency and mediocrity? But then, at what point will the questions pay off with answers?

bye for now

Joseph

What is it with dogs?

I get that they are cute. And affectionate, sometimes. But recently I’ve been wondering about this whole domestication business and when i really think about it, the idea of it is kind of messed up. That’s besides the point though.

In “Redeployment”, Richard Klay uses the dog as a metaphor for… well, that’s currently up for debate. My first thought, as many of ours were, was that it was to grab our attention, and make ourselves question our own incapacity to value humanity, to challenge our desensitized attitudes towards human life. I still think that this is true. But it’s also lot more than that. Sergeant Price does something difficult, noble, honourable… whatever you want.. in killing his own dog rather than taking it to the vet to be put down. Most people wouldn’t be able to do that. They would rather remove themselves from death, because death isn’t really death if it’s far away and the blood is on someone else’s hands (cue Butler). But Price knows differently. He knows death, he’s faced it, he’s killed. By taking it upon himself, he takes full responsibility for his dog’s death. The way I see it, Price feels the full gravity of what it is to sentence someone(thing) to die. It isn’t as if he is just declaring war, sentencing people to die and knowing that he physically will not have any part of it. But by his actions, he is recognizing that this and killing are essentially the same thing- and that to ignore that is to deny the value of another’s life. It is confusing and complex, and I cannot assume, but I would wager that this was part of his reasoning in shooting his own dog. He is taking responsibility for what he is doing, and will not deny the gravity of it by sending the dog to the vet.

They say that a dog is a man’s best friend. Sadly enough that can be true. Isn’t something a little bit off if we hold an animal as our truest companion? Why is it that humans are often so incapable of empathy? I would argue that a dog is a man’s best friend not because they’re cute, fluffy, or friendly. Although if that’s your personal reason, awesome. Dog is a mans best friend because he cannot empathize. He cannot understand other human beings. He is so limited by his own experiences, stuck inside his own skin, that he cannot feel close to another human because he cannot understand them. But a dog, a dog is easy to understand. A dog doesn’t even try to understand you back. A dog just loves you. It’s loyalty at its finest, and in its most empty form.  The dog doesn’t ask questions, it doesn’t get politically charged, it doesn’t start wars over oil or religion. So it’s easy to empathize with a dog.

Maybe Klay is onto something by drawing off our twisted love for canines. Maybe he’s commenting quite acutely on our struggle to empathize. But empathy is, in my opinion, one of the greatest things we have. Its one of the things that makes us human. Its why when Judith Butler asks what lives are grievable, our gut reaction is a frustrated ALL LIVES are grievable, Judith! Don’t try and convince me otherwise with your academic jargon! But obviously, empathy is something that we’re far from perfecting, which is why Klay, Butler and all the texts that we’re reading are of paramount relevance.

I used to fancy myself the old guy living off grid with his dog. But, given a bit more thought, I think I’ve changed my mind. How can we practically empathize with those we don’t come in contact with? How can we get outside of ourselves and understand “others”?