Sep 082016
 

I do a lot in terms of the communication of ideas. My courses for the past four years have been very writing intensive and ultimately, to my dismay, my film courses have focused less on how to actually make a movie and more on how to analyze one. Despite my frustration with the lack of film production education, I have been fortunate to have had my papers graded by several professors who grade with varying levels of intensity. At the end of the day, I have learned how to write college level papers and, if grades are a valid indication of quality, write them well.

But writing is not limited to formatting and styles dictated by universities and often subpar high school English teachers. It can take on many forms and is not an entity that fits easily into a box. While rules of syntax and grammar remain relatively unchanged, language, ideas, and the written communication of those ideas are constantly evolving. With the emergence of the internet and blogging, composition structure has been called into question. Even before blogs, there were authors who sought to break the mold by challenging the conventions of writing. Now, it seems as if everyone and their mother runs a blog, and this is marvelous.

From a certain perspective, I am a blogger. While I do not own a website domain or use Tumblr to express myself, I do run a podcast (soon to be two). In my podcast, I communicate my ideas to a larger audience about a specific topic of my own interest: Superman. If blogging is merely the communication of your ideas and interests through the internet on a designated space, then I am a blogger. My blog just happens to be audio-based.

For the past two years, I have been hosting my podcast and have earned a constantly growing fanbase. But it is always easier to speak your ideas than it is to write them down for the world to see. Creating a meaningful combination of words and structuring those clusters into a coherent set of ideas that simultaneously exude personality is an art and a skill that takes time to develop. I had tried my hand at it before with a freelance piece I had written for the Superman Homepage, but my writing still had an air of formality about it.

In taking this course, I am finally given a chance to break out of that college-style writing mentality, even if only for a semester. Additionally, I will be given the opportunity to write further about things that interest me. While I love film and one day hope to have a career in the industry, there are only so many analysis papers a guy can write before he becomes restless. Writing blog-style pieces is a nice change of pace and the concept is not terribly difficult to grasp.

In Alex Reid’s Why Blog? Searching for Writing on the Web, the specifics of blogging are defined for those uninitiated with the form. A blog can be about anything that happens to interest the author. Reid also states that blogging is a good habit to get into. Because blogs are, for the most part, independently run, the frequency of postings and the material posted is entirely based upon the author. There are no due dates or assigned subjects, meaning that the maintaining of a blog must come from the author’s desire to write.

Of course, to be encouraged to continuously write about a topic, one must have a topic that interests them personally. For instance, I love film, comic books, and music. I might write about one or all of these things as it would be easy for me to do so. However, it might be difficult to find a topic that is interesting for the author to write about. This is where Ballenger’s text comes into play.

A topic may not initially be interesting at first glance, but sometimes, a different approach might need to be taken. In reporting, this is called “finding the angle.” For example, I’m not terribly interested in French New Wave cinema. I find a majority of the films to be pretentiously artsy with little to no substance to justify its avant garde approach. But if I were to look at it from a different angle and wrote about how French New Wave cinema influenced filmmakers that emerged during the New Hollywood era, I would have more interest in writing about the subject.

Both Reid and Ballenger proclaim that any topic can be an interesting topic, and that blogging can be an effective tool to reinvigorate the author’s desire to write. Sometimes, a new approach is required, but each topic has the potential to be engaging. Anyone can be a blogger. All you need is a computer, connection to the internet, and a topic that continuously motivates you to write.

 

Learning to Write Again.

 Posted by on Thu, 9/8 at 4:34pm  Uncategorized  No Responses »
Sep 082016
 

Reid asks about the origins of exigency in the writer and honestly I had to look this term up. Exigency (for any of you that skim this to get a basis on how to write your post) is an urgent need or demand. So an exigency to write would be like an urge or a calling to write about something. Whether it be personal or informative, you find a topic and you just write until you’re satisfied.

Recently, I haven’t had exigency to write about anything. My ENC classes offered no outlet to my writing abilities, because all of the topics were either uninteresting to me or done thousands of times before by freshmen. One losses motivation to write when they learn that they have 4 topics to talk about: Drugs, Sex, Politics and Technology. It seems that not a single person in freshmen writing classes writes anything interesting or groundbreaking. Understandably, this is because this is the period when professors teach students how to write. So overall, I feel as if my writing skills have actually declined due to my lack of inspiration.

In high school, I spent a lot of time writing stories and poems. I won’t admit that any of it was groundbreaking or even grammatically correct, but it was so entertaining! I first came up with the idea to write when I started reading those terribly cheap novels on amazon. You know, the ones that you’ll never admit that you read, even to your best friends. I read many of these novels on my kindle at night, not falling asleep till 4 in the morning. I flipped through pages and pages of dystopians, elvish worlds, vampire horrors, infected cities and worse. All of these were trashy $1 novels but I loved every bit of it. Then I figured that I could even write the same kind of stories. Now what follows is pure exigency. I felt motivated to make groundbreaking works in these fields. I even started reading up on Poe, Orwell, Greene, Asimov, Wells, Lovecraft and many others just to get a better understanding of fiction. I was thrilled about writing fiction and I started to find that whatever I wrote followed my mood. I found that when I was blissful because a girl I had a crush on texted me back, I wrote happy endings about heroes conquering their fears. But when I was tackling grief due to the loss of my father and the fracture in my family, my stories were dark and terrifying. They strangely took on a life of their own resembling works by Poe and Lovecraft. I never did any of this intentionally but I found that when I wrote, I wrote what was in my heart at the time.

Now theirs probably something significant that a therapist could tell me about my writing tendencies, about who I am and how it all made me feel, but that isn’t the point of this post. The point is that I miss that. Not reading trashy teen novels and certainly not writing about dark worlds or happy endings, but I miss writing. I don’t want to be forced to write about topics that interest just my professor or topics that everyone in my class wants to talk about. I want to write about something that makes me feel like I have a voice. It’s important to feel exigency while your writing and not just in your fantasy novels, but in your papers too. If we don’t find our topics interesting, then we won’t be interested in what we are writing about. Our papers will turn to mush and the professor will fall asleep reading it. So thank you Julia, for teaching us to love to write again.

New Implications for Language

 Posted by on Thu, 9/8 at 1:00pm  Uncategorized  No Responses »
Sep 082016
 

The podcasts Words made some very interesting connections with language that raises a lot of questions. I took a psychology course at FAU and we briefly went over the phase in a child’s life where they start to develop spatial reasoning, but the child is supposed to develop language way before this. The idea that language as we know it doesn’t actually develop in a child’s brain until they reach 6 was eye opening to me. I’ve always heard the saying that children are like sponges. They repeat whatever you say right back to you. Sometimes they will make small connections to words and the things that they want, but do they truly understand who they are and what the world around them is?

Moving on to the the boy without language, here we find another astounding discovery. When Julia told us to, “Think about something outside of language,” I honestly didn’t think to hard about it. I thought to myself “That’s impossible.” Everything we think about involves language. However, what about for people who were born deaf and were never introduced to sign language. I never even considered this and I was utterly surprised to learn the answer. They don’t have language! They have this long process of describing an event without words, symbols or signs. They never understood that everything has a word or symbol and their brains never made the connection. The truly astonishing part is how once this connection is made, they can’t go back. It’s like the brain learned an easier way to communicate and it left the other method behind. This begs the question, are their other skills or ways of processing information that we just simply forget because our brains don’t need them anymore. I took a linguistics course and I learned that linguistics believe that over time, languages become simpler. Conjunctions are formed, words symplified, grammar simplifies and so on so forth. Is it possible that their is a correlation between these two concepts. What if the same part of our brain that simplifies language is also responsible for making necessary connections between parts of our brain to simplify our own understanding of language.

Language should no longer be looked at as tools, because tools aren’t necessary. Tools can be used, exchanged, forgotten and disposed of. Language is nothing like this. Once you learn language, you can’t unlearn it and once you do use it, language changes the way you see the world. I believe to truly understand what it means to be human, one must understand what language is and how much of a role it plays in developing our brains.

Think big

 Posted by on Thu, 9/8 at 11:07am  Uncategorized  No Responses »
Sep 082016
 

Being a great thinker must be something that improve someone one’s writing in which this writer has to make a lot research. It is really easy to just do research about any topic; however, researching on the topic that interested the writer might seemed the best idea.  Everyone has his or her own style of writing. I like to think in the middle and the end of the topic I am about to write which makes me a not an expert at starting a good research paper. Like Ballenger said, a good topic is not only just about the writer interested topic, but also getting answers from that topic that can make an interesting paper. I wrote a research paper about arranged marriage and most of my questions were answered which include why does arranged marriage still exist? or how does it work?, and why is it important to certain culture? I personally think that arranged marriage is absurd because everyone has his or her free will. But the reason why I was interested  research more about that topic was because I was curious about it. Like Reid said, each of us have a reason to write whether it was an interest or for a job. My  inspiration of my favorites authors such as Suzanne Collins, James Patterson, and Megan Crewe. To elaborate more,  my motivation to write was how each author describe his or her story of every chapter in which it consists twisting, shocking, joyful moments of that story. Being a  great writer consist of the person who motivate you and what influence it made for you to hold on to that motivation.

Sep 082016
 

First off, I want to say that I enjoyed listening to the podcast but preferred reading the transcript a lot more than actually listening to it. The podcast brought me back to a conversation I had with my TESOL professor about learning language and if humans can be taught it when they haven’t been exposed to it from the beginning. There are several studies involved with feral children, children who have had little or no human contact, and how whether it is possible for them to learn a language when they have not been exposed to the sound system, the phonemes.  Some of the studies show that they can learn the sounds and may make simple sentences but their progression stops there and they can’t move on to making complex sentences. The stories in the podcast offer another point of view in which the person is deaf and is language-less but that’s not completely true. They have a language that is different from speaking or signing and have not learned a common language to communicate in. Just as when Ildefonso learns the other language and that things have name, his view point changes. I believe what he had was a point of view change. He went from seeing things in pictures and signs to seeing them with words that became symbols for those pictures and signs. His thinking as they believed is what changed, I think became a perspective change. On the other hand, feral children, who can hear, have little or no exposure to human language which in turn prevents them from communicating altogether.  Just as psychologist said, when they turn six, a switch flips and children are able to for spatial sentences, they same applies to feral children. If they are not exposed to human language and the sounds that make it before a certain age, then it becomes progressively harder to teach them language or to teach them past the early stages of language acquisition.

Radiolab Response

 Posted by on Wed, 9/7 at 1:15am  Uncategorized  1 Response »
Sep 072016
 

I know we weren’t supposed to upload here, but I took all this time to write it out and I know I won’t be able to say all of it in class, and it would be nice to at least have the possibility of it being seen. This is over 1800 words, I didn’t edit this, and I got progressively less sure of what I was thinking by the end, so I’m sure this is awful to read. I hope it has something worth seeing, at least. Anyway, here’s a track from Bobby McFerrin’s “Beyond Words”, a vocal album in which Bobby chooses to never use any words. I figured it fit.

 

Preface: There was another NPR report from the “NPR Ed” education-related section that I think is relevant to bring up and reference throughout talking about this Radiolab episode. It’s titled “From Mozart to Mr. Rogers: Literacy, Music and The Brain,” and it deals with language development at infancy and how it portends to further language mastery.

In it, the reporters speak to Professor Sharon Raimi, a Virginia Tech child development expert. She argues that not only do babies have a natural “wiring” toward language, but they also are “hardwired to love it.” The variation in tones, along with the sensual pleasure of making noise and looking at people speaking and making gestures “is fun… it’s as good a game as a child can find,” as she puts it. Neurologist Nina Kraus adds that the very act of listening to sounds creates brainwaves that physically mirror the soundwaves of the actual noise; that is, we essentially mirror sounds we hear in a way that is measurable with brain scanning technology.

Thus, the exaggerated cadence of “baby talk” that adults use teaches babies the pitch, rhythm, and timbre of speech, which works with their neurological structures to construct and recognize language, and critically, to separate signal from noise – pre-literate toddlers whose brainwaves show clear recognition of syllables amid overwhelming chatter and noise have a stronger linguistic ability and higher chance for literacy than those who can’t.

Moreover, Kraus says, if a child is not exposed to face-to-face language early and regularly, there is a lack of stimulation in those centers that causes the input-hungry brain to create its own stimulation: “neural noise,” which she equates almost to hearing radio static. It muffles syllables and words and makes them less distinguishable from noise internal and external, which is an immense detriment in their later ability to understand language effectively as teenagers and adults.

Radiolab Part 1 – Susan Schaller and Ildefonso: I think the NPR Ed article could give some context to better understand what is happening here. Ildefonso was capable to recognize that language existed, insofar that he knew there were regular patterns that people used to communicate. But, without any personal linguistic stimulation as a child – perhaps growing up deaf with family who didn’t know how to communicate with him – he may have lived in a world of utter noise. There was little means of distinguishing meaningful information from background, as almost everything was a single sheet of stimuli that clearly overwhelmed him. I say “almost,” because he did have that fundamental recognition of language’s existence, as he could tell when Susan was engaging in repeatable patterns, which ultimately lead to his full recognition of the linguistic world.

Part 2 – Charles Fernyhough and the Rats, Elizabeth Spelke and the Kids: This seems to show that intelligence is sort of like a web that is able to connect and unify multiple individual ideas, with language being the “material” that the web is made out of (as well as the ideas). Because these connections are mediated by language – the example given is that the kids applied prepositions to understand location relative to a colored wall – this gives some justification to the argument mentioned repeatedly in the class that “people with more words lead richer lives.” Not only are there more ideas available to those with large amounts of language, but those ideas can be more densely and meaningfully connected through said language, making understanding clearer and connections more diverse and creative. The distinction between “signal” and “noise” becomes shaded and multifaceted, constructing a more shaded and multifaceted world.

Part 3 – James Shapiro and Shakespeare: What makes this part interesting is that half of it seems to support the implications in Part 2, but the other half seems to suggest a contrary. The first half of Shakespeare constructing words and phrases is of the same vein as Part 2’s language-web of creativity: by having a deep linguistic knowledge, he was able to construct new, meaningful connections between concepts that were still intuitive enough that they could be easily traced by those listening. But connections alone don’t necessarily get easily translated – many can relate to having teachers that are clearly very smart, but can’t convey their ideas coherently to students. Perhaps there’s something to think about in terms of empathy and intelligence – not only knowing how to make connections, but knowing what connections are most easily understood by others. The part that seems contrary is the discussion of “Lucrese’s Rape.” Here, rather than words being dropped onto the world, it seems the world (at least, the internal world) is overwhelming the words; Lucrese’s emotions and desire to clearly express what she means are so powerful and numerous that she is at a loss at how to write them. While Shapiro may be using this to just to explain why Shakespeare created new words and phrases, there is an interesting suggestion that the outside world is not just imperiously divided, defined, and even sensed through language, but that there is a give and take between sensory stimuli and the words we use to separate them.

Part 4 – Jill Bolte Taylor and the Joyful Silence: Ildefonso is what happens when the noise overwhelms the signal. Jill Taylor is perhaps what happens when the very machine that recognizes noise and signal is destroyed. Rather than a defective or ill-equipped linguistic wiring, like Ildefonso’s deafness and lack of words, Jill had no wiring at all. She was unable to even understand the conception of language, let alone have that concept lead to a perceptual imbalance. The sheer joy she felt at having no thoughts between her and raw sensation is curious. Did she feel joy knowing what it was once like to have words and then to have them no longer, given that she was drifting in and out of “La La Land?” Would she have felt the same joy of sunshine on her face if she wasn’t in a safe environment like a hospital? (That is, if she was left lying in the rain in the middle of a forest, would she be so blissful in the moment?) She compared it to being an infant, but she at least recognized she once had language before she lost it, and babies certainly aren’t constantly joyful. Are babies truly joyous present-living, or can this joy only come when one has and then loses language? Does this vindicate Zen Buddhist ideals of “enlightenment” through nullifying logic and being wholly present? I have a friend who is addicted to opioids, and he says that the experiences she had without language were extremely similar to the experiences he has on heroin – an atemporal, nonspatial bliss of near oneness and presence where language is muted. The only difference is that the “inner voice” that Jill describes still exists, but is brought down to near muteness. Perhaps there is an asymptotic relationship between “turning down” both the signal and the noise of language and the point of pure thoughtlessness – one can constantly get nearer to the point, but never actually reach it in that manner.

Part 5 – Ann Senghas and the Deaf Nicaraguans: Why was Ildefonso unable to construct his own system of rudimentary signs in the same way that these children could to communicate with their non-deaf family and friends? Could they have been more engaged by their family growing up even though they still couldn’t understand anyone? The children who watched the cartoon had more psychological words than the older former students, and the show suggests that these words allow the children to be more concerned with emotions and motivations of the character. But why did the children feel the need to make these words in the first place, and why did it not occur to the older generation? Is it simply a matter of practicality – there needs to be words to talk about the material before words can describe the mental? Or could the children have been more exposed to these psychological ideas and thus have a desire to construct language for them? The toy train comic strip test is actually a retelling of the “Sally-Anne test” developed in 1985 to test “theory of mind” in autistic children – that is, to see if the children can recognize that others have their own minds that are separate from theirs. The 35 year olds got this question wrong at a higher rate (87.5%) than actual autistic children when the test was given in 1985 (80%). It is obviously absurd to suggest that those 35 year olds are autistic, but perhaps there is a meaningful connection between lack of language, autism, and the inability to recognize subjectivities relative to one’s own. Remember that Jill without language was unable to separate herself from anything else around her. I don’t have anything I can connect here, but there’s something buzzing…

Part 6 — Susan Schaller and Ildefonso, Redux: It is curious both that Ildefonso describes languagelessness as being a darkness and being evidently so traumatized by it that he refuses to even attempt describing it. The program seems to show three highly different perspectives on being without language: the terror of Ildefonso, the bliss of Jill, and the pragmatism of the Nicaraguan children. The fact that all three react dramatically different to what seem to be the same or similar ideas raises a possible suggestion that the Lucrese poem also hints at: Could it be that, even though language plays an immense role in shaping the world and ourselves, there is some kind of self that exists outside of language that gives an emotional resonance to that world that language creates? That is, language (or lack thereof) builds a logical world and creates a logical self within it, but something else determines the feelings that are interwoven within that world and self.

Final Thoughts: The “richness of life” that comes from language is not only from the amount of words we can use and the density of connections we can make between those words. I would say that an equally important side is that a large vocabulary gives a better context to know what we don’t have words for. The analogy that comes to mind is a jigsaw puzzle with no knowledge of what the final picture will be. At the beginning, there is a complete lack of context for where one should start putting pieces (short, of course, of starting with the corners). There is an immense number of unknown variables with little clear idea of how they relate. But as the puzzle gets filled, the pieces that are placed not only begin to show the picture, but they begin to make logical sense of the other pieces. As a hole gets surrounded, it becomes clear what piece is needed precisely by what shape the hole makes. Similarly, having a high literacy not only makes one’s worldview clearer and more distinct, but it reduces the number of “unknown unknown” variables (the things we have never even heard of), and gives greater context to the “known unknowns” (the things we know that we don’t know). To say that “P is not Q, not X, and not Y” may not tell us exactly what P is, but it certainly gives us a better clue than not knowing P at all.