Through the Prism

After passing through the prism, each refraction contains some pure essence of the light, but only an incomplete part. We will always experience some aspect of reality, of the Truth, but only from our perspectives as they are colored by who and where we are. Others will know a different color and none will see the whole, complete light. These are my musings from my particular refraction.

11.06.2020

Inhabit

On a sunny day
find the most
colorful tree you can
Stand beneath it
Look up
Observe
Notice
Study
Absorb
Be

But wait
There are other
trees just as
colorful
as equally delightful
each in its own way

Find another
Repeat
Relish
Relax
Refresh
Be







I like sitting with that list of synonyms and fully feeling each of them.

Be
Exist
Abide
Act
Breathe
Continue
Do
Endure
Hold
Inhabit
Last
Live
Move
Obtain
Persist
Prevail
Remain
Rest
Stand
Stay
Subsist
Survive

That exercise in serenity is in response to beautiful weather, need for relief from the interminable wait for election results, and creeping belief that things might turn out okay. The first has been just perfect all week, even when it's not sunny. The second and third are--at this point, Friday night, three days after election day--gradually turning into the desired victory. The last few votes to be counted remain, with possible recounting to follow, but the numbers indicate a loss for the intolerable incumbent. He's made efforts to dispute and cast aspersions, with some followers following suit, but nothing that appears to be materializing meaningfully. He probably won't concede easily, but the rest looks more likely to be grumbling than violence. Worst fears are not being realized and the fuse may fizzle out rather than ignite.

Though, on other fronts, I've seen multiple headlines about the latest Covid infection numbers use the word "skyrocketing." Things might be about to turn even more grim.

From earlier today:
Sitting on the patio watching the leaves fall. Though they don't show, there is a steady flow. Some landed on me while I took the picture. I just had a "gather ye rosebuds" talk with the kids--who have no school today--about the fleetingness of these conditions, but they would not be convinced to abandon their toys for time outside.

The crows are angry. Must be a hawk near.


So the current moment, like so many, means holding conflicting feelings alongside each other. Embrace contradiction and paradox.


That's current affairs. The rest is a few things that have caught my eye recently.

I grew up exposed to a steady flow of "Dadgummit!" It was my dad's emphatic exclamation of choice to express frustration in place of cursing. I no longer think about it often, but this essay is a wonderful, accessible exercise in linguistics.

The way the word evolved is not really funny. It is dark and ominous and paved with fear. “Dagnabbit,” along with the English words “bear” and “wolf,” are creations of a terrified populace, scared of beings visible and not.

These words are called, among linguists, taboo deformations. They are words we created because, in a very fantasy-novel sort of way, we are scared of the True Names of our enemies and overlords. Dagnabbit is an example of the perceived power of words to hurt us. . . . 

Language itself has power. The word for a certain concept isn’t just a symbol; it is tied in some fundamental way to the concept itself. This pops up in humanity’s oldest stories: the idea is that each thing—person, god, object—has a true name, and that knowledge of that true name conveys power. . . . 

Delightfully, this concept translates to everyday, non-fantasy-novel life as well. Except we don’t always know it. . . . 

Basically, we are scared of the true names of certain beings or concepts, because to use them might mean we summon them, which we don’t want, or anger them, which we definitely don’t want, or simply make other humans mad at us, which is slightly less bad but still not ideal. The true name is powerful, and we normal humans can’t handle that power. So we avoid using the true name, but sometimes we still need to communicate with each other about those beings or concepts. That means we have to figure out a way to talk about something without using the actual word for it. . . . 

There are rules for how you can tweak a name. If you change it too much, nobody will know what you mean; if you don’t change it enough, people might assume you’re using the true name, which is what you’re trying to avoid in the first place.

So to find the right balance, you can only change certain sounds for certain other sounds, in a strategy called dissimilation. . . . 

The strategies get more in-depth than that, and we have to venture further to decode “dagnabbit,” which is, of course, a taboo deformation of the word “goddammit.” . . . 

One strategy is called metathesis . . . 
As a fantasy geek, I've had lots of exposure to the idea of true names holding power. As a language lover (who studied linguistics as part of my English degree), I often wax poetic about the power of words. And I have my personal connection to this word--or the one just like it. I love this essay.




This is not surprising in the least.

People feel uncomfortable when faced with others who seem similar to them but ‘bad’ in some way, such as when they learn about a serial killer who happens to have the same favourite movie, food or song as them. Being similar to someone who seems emotionally unstable, rude, treacherous or otherwise ‘bad’ is distressing because it leads us to wonder: what’s stopping me from being that way too?

But the dark side might not always be a deterrent. Specifically, while research shows that we avoid bad others who seem like us, I wondered whether immersion in fictional worlds would make us more open to the villain within. Fiction is, by definition, separate from reality. Because of this, people feel comfortable exploring perspectives in fiction that would be far too threatening in real life. Could acceptance extend to evil, immoral or otherwise objectionable characters who somehow feel familiar? If fiction could take the fear out of similar villains, all that would remain are the benefits: a character we can relate to, who’s relevant to our lives. . . . 

Our explorations have confirmed that, when it comes to fictional villains, similarity is a powerful draw. . . . 

When it comes to fiction, people like identifying with characters in stories, even when those characters represent the height of evil. This provides initial insight into how people sometimes find pleasure in exploring the experiences of darker versions of themselves, but there is additional work to be done. For example, while this work suggests that people like similar over dissimilar villains, future work might examine when people prefer villains over heroes – that is, when the dark side has a greater pull than the light. We might also explore how desire to see ourselves within the villain might affect us in real life. The preference for similar villains relies on an assumption that what happens in fiction stays in fiction… but is that actually true? Or, does our comfort in seeing ourselves as the villain of a fictional world ultimately manifest in real-world darkness, too?
I've experienced the same with role-playing games. They are a fun--and, I believe, healthy--way to explore the dark sides we deny and repress the rest of the time.






If it wasn't late I would delve into this chart even more than I already have. As it is, I'll leave the link to provide a slight bit of commentary and analysis (and the full-size graphic). There's a lot here to ponder.



As a friend commented on Facebook: "Some of those North America ones were really depressing."


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