Tag: media

Re: Communication

In grade six I was a prolific penpal writer. The best teacher I had had so far in my schooling, a Mr. Stroud, thought he could teach almost any subject through the craft of writing. I wanted to make him proud so I churned out all sorts of correspondence, mailing letters to a record high number of countries. When I graduated to junior high my dad’s friend introduced me to the wonders of international ham radio, so I got to talk to a new batch of people through that medium. Towards the end of high school and on into university, I was an eager letter writer for Amnesty International. This desire to communicate with the global society continued as I became a teacher, encouraging my students to use the power of their pen, or keyboard, or their voice to reach out to the world. Like my grade six teacher before me, I carried his instructional technique to stretch the conventional three Rs.

When it came to social media, I didn’t register with Facebook on account of questions about privacy. At the suggestion of an artist friend I started a Twitter account. I soon grew to love communing with like-minded souls who wished to amplify good vibes, while sharing their tastes in various art forms. Those were good years until the messaging on that platform became darker, less inclusive, and ultimately soul-sucking. When Elon Musk took over I joined the Xodus, closing my account, and switched to another of Jack Dorsey’s creations: Bluesky.

These on-line communities have been disparaged by some. The central joke seems to be that if you spend too much time with computer messaging, then you forget how to talk to a real person. Nah! During the Covid years I found my social media buddies to be a life-line. I’m naturally an introvert so I didn’t mind sheltering in place. I was not one of those who baked endless loaves of bread. I continued to use my favourite artistic skill, writing, to broaden my days of regulated isolation amidst the continually updated health advisories. I used my laptop as a bridge to friends in other countries, connecting me with stories of other governments’ approaches to quarantine, vaccines, and the public protests that followed.

When we all got back to face-to-face socializing I confess I did feel rusty. The eyes of another real person can make anyone feel a tad off-balance. Slowly I remembered my instincts/training to listen, digest, then speak my point-of-view in the politically correct order. I’m enjoying learning how my grandchildren are sharing their messages of discovery and hope. Their ways of communicating will be very different from my personal history. Yet the common thread will be to send out a signal, “Is anyone out there?” When a child shouts, ‘Grandpa look at me!’ I know they really mean ‘Can you see that I exist!’ It’s not that they need validation. Acceptance is really all that’s required. Then we can make a confident leap to ‘Let’s play together.’

Re: Opposite

War is the opposite of art. In the midst of compelling, heart-wrenching photos of the current wars in Gaza and Ukraine, art is being dimmed just as surely as lives are being extinguished. Art creates, while war is nothing but destruction. Art defines the best in humanity, while war denigrates mankind with every rocket launched, with every bullet fired, and with every anti-personal device exploded.

To be opposite is to be opposed. Opposition plays a key role in incidents of unfairness. When one side dominates it is right for the minority to speak up in rebellion. A call to arms is required if dialogue is downplayed, demonized, dismissed or otherwise disparaged. Everyone has a right to be heard and understood. Systems must be in place to protect the vulnerable, not trample over them. I get upset when I have to take a side: Life is nuanced, not black and white. Looking within the fold and shades of an issue, I see promise in the act of negotiation. Capitulation isn’t necessary when the shared goal is accommodating humanity.

War rhetoric is divisive. People on the opposite side of the line drawn in the sand are referred to as Nonpersons; humans devoid of respect or legal protection. They are “human animals”, as described by current Israeli Prime Minister B. Netanyahu when he speaks of the enemy Hamas. All sorts of words have been used through the ages to delineate the opposite side, whether in war or debate. The opposing team is the foe, the work of the devil, the pagan, the unwashed, or the undeserving. The pronouncement is made, thus the enemy is not requiring compassion. The slaughter can begin.

Some say that the opposite of war is peace. Others know that the only thing you need for the seed of war is indifference. I will play devil’s advocate by suggesting that intolerance begins the process of creating The Other. Making a contrary statement, even if it’s a lie, will get the argument going. Currently on social media sites, those who wish to incite disharmony are using AI Bots to spread discord. One small distortion, strategically used by Influencers, can cause havoc. Consider the folks in Springfield, Ohio who had to battle the abuse from folks who believed that its residents were stealing cats & dogs for food, after Trump said he had heard this on TV.

Debates are often seen as being an example of opposites not attracting. The recent Trump/Harris debacle showcased clearly for me that you can’t have a debate when one party is unwilling to discuss issues. Solving the issue of the day is looking at the double edged sword and trying to minimize the damage done to a course of action. Having a respectful debate, in my mind, is about seeing two sides of the same coin, then figuring out what to do when things flip heads or tails. Often the two sides can be complementary, even if we can’t be complimentary of that person on the other side of the arbitrary fence.

Re: Book

Publishing is going through massive change. Books, magazines and newspapers used to be the norm since Johannes Gutenberg invented the press machine. In my lifetime there has been a decline in print sources delivering news and information. Text and picture can arrive by digital means but for most people my age that mode of delivery comes up short. Words on paper (I miss handwritten letters delivered by postal carriers) have a tactile benefit that cannot be understated. Words are meant to make us feel.

The old Hawaii Five-O television series had an oft quoted catchy line, “Book ‘em Danno” when referring to crooks being arrested. Books on the other hand must never be judged harshly, by their cover or otherwise. My special mom, who can’t even see the covers of her audio books, would agree. She reports that a good book is like comfort food. Her CD player is provided by CNIB (bless them) and when her discs arrive in the mail box she exclaims with delight. It’s a treat to see her smile when she is immersed in her world of words. She shows similar interest when my wife reads to her from my published work on this site.

I’m in the process of gathering columns I once wrote for a daily newspaper into a book. It’s a self publishing effort and I don’t intend to make any money from it. I had made photocopies of the individual columns which I kept in a three ring binder. First the pages had to be recopied and the data stored on a digital file. Then I had to bring it to experts to have it paginated. I next had to book an appointment at my local printing house. Other writers can relate to a similar process as everyone has a story to tell it seems. Every person is literally a walking book. Those who write are usually ravenous readers. I am unreservedly pro books, never want them to be banned, never want them to be burned (ironically the books in the story Fahrenheit 451 ARE burned). Both banning and burning still occur around the world which to me is a shocking example of misdirected anger.

If those who love food are ‘Foodies’, then I guess you could call fans of reading, ‘Bookies’. Too bad that label is attached to shady old-school gambling agents of the underworld sort. As an aside, I wish all gambling ‘pushers’ were arrested and booked for damage to society, but that’s for another blog page. In other WordPress postings, I’ve written about my love of libraries where words and other forms of artistic expression and information can be shared. I love the continuing impression that a source of books is central to any healthy community.

When I book my final passage to the great cosmic beyond, I’ll mix my life essence with countless others in the ether. I can imagine that blend of quantum particulate matter lodging in the head of some future writer who might wonder where that idea came from for another story.