Like many other people, public speaking is not my strong suit. Maybe it's due to my introverted personality, but the thought of standing up before a crowd, no matter the size, never fails to make me nervous. However, the more that I've spoken in front of others, the easier it's been for me to get up in front of the room. It's an old adage that "practice makes perfect," but in this case I think it suits my experience well.
For me, public speaking is something that I have to ease into over time. I typically start out rather nervous, and get more confident once I realize that I'm actually managing to win the audience over. Humor is a really effective way to get the audience on your side, I've found; a little joke in the beginning works wonders to help me relax.
My biggest strength is probably my voice and delivery; I prefer to maintain a conversational tone unless a speech is super professional. It helps me relax because it's one less thing to worry about, and it's easier to relate to your audience if you talk to them rather than at them. However, my body language tends to get a bit awkward, and I usually find myself doing something with my hands out of nervousness. Practicing some simple hand gestures while I speak would probably help me in this regard, since I do it naturally during conversation anyway.
Doing the civic artifact speech really helped me identify my strengths and weaknesses, and informed me a bit more about speaking at a college level. Overall, I'd say my speaking experiences thus far have been positive, and I'm eager to continue learning in the future.
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Thursday, October 13, 2016
"The Circle" Prompt #5: Mae Against the Machine
3) The New York Times review of The Circle contends that, in the end, “Mae, then, is not a victim but a dull villain.” Expand on this notion, while also interpreting the meaning of Egger’s surprising departure from novelistic conventions in the text’s last pages.
To quote a popular movie: "You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain." That's Harvey Dent, from The Dark Knight. Perhaps that's a bit overdramatic considering how Mae's story ends, but it works, too. Confession time: I've never liked Mae, even in the early parts of the book when she's portrayed as the everywoman protagonist. I found her to be whiny, spoiled, selfish, and annoying; aka, not an easy character to relate to in such a complicated novel. However, I never saw her as the villain of the story per se until I went back and thought long and hard about the text. The members of the Circle aren't blatantly villainous; they genuinely believe in the morality and righteousness of their actions, yet the various "innovations" they shepherd go against many of the moral and ethical truisms of our time. So I suppose it would be correct to say that Mae, that figurehead, in many ways, of the organization, is the true villain of the story.
Throughout the book, Mae builds more and more of a wall between herself and her humanity, namely her relationships, beliefs, and private experiences. She betrays those closest to her; Annie, her parents, Mercer, and even Kalden. She compromises her inherent regard of privacy and human connection in favor of advancing further up the corporate ladder. And by donning a body camera herself, Mae bares herself to the entire world, literally, allowing total strangers access into her deeply private moments. Mae serves as the embodiment of everything that is wrong with the Circle and its supporters, yet refuses to listen to Mercer or even Kalden/Ty, who has the most insight into all the trouble the Circle can cause if its power remains unchecked. Her progression is clear; Mae willingly gives herself over to the Circle rather than doing the right thing, as several more "enlightened" characters try and fail to stop her. Mae has become so robotic by the end of the book that she feels no emotion for Mercer's death, and presumably Ty's as well, and reflects upon Annie's coma from the view of entering her thoughts rather than showing any real concern for her friend.
Mae's final thoughts on Annie serve as a highly atypical ending for the protagonist of any story. Usually, the protagonist follows a version of the "hero's journey" storyline, in which they reach rock bottom before finding redemption by vanquishing some ultimate evil. Mae, on the other hand, is no hero. Her story is a slow, downward spiral into psuedo-villainy that ends the story on a much more ominous note than it started on. (And the book was never exactly cheerful to begin with.) However, Mae's transformation is less malevolent than it is petty and reeking of neediness, which is clearly Eggers' idea of how social media affects people, especially teenagers and young adults. I'm not sure if I'm alone, but reading about Mae's various screw-ups just made me want to bang my head against a wall; the ending, however, was just plain creepy. It gets the author's point across, no doubt, but is handled with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Again, perhaps that's the point, as it certainly leaves an impression that sticks, and not in a good way.
To quote a popular movie: "You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain." That's Harvey Dent, from The Dark Knight. Perhaps that's a bit overdramatic considering how Mae's story ends, but it works, too. Confession time: I've never liked Mae, even in the early parts of the book when she's portrayed as the everywoman protagonist. I found her to be whiny, spoiled, selfish, and annoying; aka, not an easy character to relate to in such a complicated novel. However, I never saw her as the villain of the story per se until I went back and thought long and hard about the text. The members of the Circle aren't blatantly villainous; they genuinely believe in the morality and righteousness of their actions, yet the various "innovations" they shepherd go against many of the moral and ethical truisms of our time. So I suppose it would be correct to say that Mae, that figurehead, in many ways, of the organization, is the true villain of the story.
Throughout the book, Mae builds more and more of a wall between herself and her humanity, namely her relationships, beliefs, and private experiences. She betrays those closest to her; Annie, her parents, Mercer, and even Kalden. She compromises her inherent regard of privacy and human connection in favor of advancing further up the corporate ladder. And by donning a body camera herself, Mae bares herself to the entire world, literally, allowing total strangers access into her deeply private moments. Mae serves as the embodiment of everything that is wrong with the Circle and its supporters, yet refuses to listen to Mercer or even Kalden/Ty, who has the most insight into all the trouble the Circle can cause if its power remains unchecked. Her progression is clear; Mae willingly gives herself over to the Circle rather than doing the right thing, as several more "enlightened" characters try and fail to stop her. Mae has become so robotic by the end of the book that she feels no emotion for Mercer's death, and presumably Ty's as well, and reflects upon Annie's coma from the view of entering her thoughts rather than showing any real concern for her friend.
Mae's final thoughts on Annie serve as a highly atypical ending for the protagonist of any story. Usually, the protagonist follows a version of the "hero's journey" storyline, in which they reach rock bottom before finding redemption by vanquishing some ultimate evil. Mae, on the other hand, is no hero. Her story is a slow, downward spiral into psuedo-villainy that ends the story on a much more ominous note than it started on. (And the book was never exactly cheerful to begin with.) However, Mae's transformation is less malevolent than it is petty and reeking of neediness, which is clearly Eggers' idea of how social media affects people, especially teenagers and young adults. I'm not sure if I'm alone, but reading about Mae's various screw-ups just made me want to bang my head against a wall; the ending, however, was just plain creepy. It gets the author's point across, no doubt, but is handled with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Again, perhaps that's the point, as it certainly leaves an impression that sticks, and not in a good way.
Thursday, October 6, 2016
"The Circle" Prompt #4: You've Got Moxie, Kid
Like many of the concepts presented throughout the novel, demoxie is heralded as one of the next great inventions from the brilliant minds of the Circle. Like most of the company's technological breakthroughs. it immediately becomes ingrained into the daily lives of its users in a shockingly fast way, all while ignoring the potentially dire ramifications of the existence and acceptance of such technology. Stop me if you've heard that one before.
By looking at demoxie with our own political system in mind, we can easily see how its existence would invite the possibility of monumental abuses of power by the American people, the very same people who demoxie's twisted version of "democracy" is intended to protect.
By looking at demoxie with our own political system in mind, we can easily see how its existence would invite the possibility of monumental abuses of power by the American people, the very same people who demoxie's twisted version of "democracy" is intended to protect.
Credit: John Greim/Getty Images
Demoxie starts perhaps innocuously enough with the idea to make everyone with a TruYou account a registered voter. Eamonn Bailey sees this as the most perfect form of electoral democracy, finally "closing the circle" between electors and the electorate. Just like every other sounds-good-on-paper-but-is-actually-terrible-idea to come from those crackpot Circlers, demoxie is met with raucous applause. To make matters worse, Mae has the idea to take the whole thing a step further by forcing everyone to vote. How democratic.
Naturally, the Circle is so excited by this idea of 100% participation that a trial version is up and running in a week, with its first question asking about veggie options at lunch. Now, voting on the lunch menu may seem harmless enough, but imagine what could happen if such a direct democracy was left in the hands of ordinary people. We all know someone that makes us think, "Thank God they're not running the country." But by putting a vote in everyone's hands, demoxie opens up the possibility for disaster. Instead of qualified and experienced leaders, ordinary and uninformed citizens could end up making decisions that impact the entire country. Do I want the robot or the orange man as president? Should we nuke North Korea for insulting us so many times? How large should the military be? Should free speech be legal at all? You can see where I'm going with this; there's a reason why we elect people to run this country instead of doing it ourselves, and demoxie completely ignores it for the sake of transparency and a hollow definition of what "democracy" really means.
The message behind demoxie is how it points out the necessity of our representative democracy. We have a process and a system for doing things, even though it's slow, confusing, and often frustrating for those who expect the instantaneous results produced by the Circle. Just as we citizens are checks on the power of our elected officials, our representatives keep us in line too. If we decided matters as easily as we did the vegetable menu, we'd run ourselves into the ground, which is exactly what Mae and Bailey are helping to do. They don't realize it; hell, they even think they're doing the right thing by "closing the circle". But time and time again, they sacrifice the value of human contact and experience for the sake of results and the illusion of connectivity. You can't "close" the distance between politicians and people by simply eliminating it; the distance needs to be there to protect the interests of everyone.
That's the essence of democracy, not forcing people to vote because you think it's the right thing to do. It's more democratic to choose not to vote, because at least you still have a choice to do what you think is best, too. Eliminating that choice helps no one, no matter how glamorous Mae tries to make it out to be.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
"The Circle" Prompt #3
2) Eamonn Bailey guides Mae to present three mantras to The Circle to clarify its culture of transparency: SECRETS ARE LIES, SHARING IS CARING, PRIVACY IS THEFT. Offer a defense or critique of these mantras. Do these mantras have any traction in the “real” world? Support your claims with evidence from the text and from examples from culture.
Though the mantras presented above are key to how the Circle operates and spreads its ideals through society, they have surprisingly little bearing in the real world. To be sure, they reflect certain elements of our own digital world, but the essence of them is actually in opposition to what most people think about online transparency.
Mae's first statement is "secrets are lies", rationalizing that they make crimes possible and inspire speculation that can be incredibly damaging to people. However, for most of us, secrets are in fact true. Think about it; why go to the trouble to hide something from others if it was simply made up, as the Circle purports lies to be? We keep secrets because we're sometimes afraid of the truth, or sometimes others' reaction to it, not because we expressly set out to lie. Mae uses the metaphor of a locked door to illustrate that transparency shows only one truth, but fails to understand that humans are infinitely more complex. We keep secrets because we're afraid of what others may think of us, and it's our right to do so; they're our truths to tell or withhold at our discretion. We keep secrets to spare others' feelings, because sometimes the truth is just too painful to know. We keep secrets to protect ourselves; sometimes it can even be a matter of life and death. But Mae fails to understand these ideas, instead maintaining the naive and hypocritical opinion that transparency is ultimately best, even as she struggles to keep her own personal life private. In the real world, we value our secrets because they're essential to maintaining our relationships and even our sanity. In a way, our secrets help define who we are; many of our actions are guided by them, for good or ill. But ultimately, our secrets are the truth, pure and objective, which is why we go through so much trouble to keep them.
The second mantra, "sharing is caring", also has many of the same faults as its predecessor. Though many of us are taught this statement from an early age, associating it with sharing our own happiness with others, the Circle takes it far beyond sharing childhood toys on the playground. Bailey paints it in a positive light, using the excuse of his son's cerebral palsy to justify invading peoples' private experiences. Though knowledge is a basic human right, and sharing is how we learn and grow as a society, there's such a thing as sharing too much. Mae certainly feels that way when Francis videos them in an intimate moment; she can't believe that he's done something so blatantly violating. Certainly in our world, we don't want our private moments getting sent to everyone, lest we end up like many unfortunate celebrities caught unawares mid-coitus on video. Mae feels more than hurt by his actions, even though he shared their experience with what I can only assume were good intentions; did Mae feel cared for then?
The last mantra, "privacy is theft"is perhaps the most flawed. We consider privacy so sacred that we react extremely when it's taken from us, while the Circle maintains a completely opposite view. The mantra itself is a logical fallacy; if things were private, nobody would be able to take them, would they? It implies that the theft is of already public knowledge, leaving the true definition of privacy behind. In this situation, Mercer's reaction is perhaps most accurate, feeling violated when Mae shares his chandelier with her followers, and criticizing her for failing to see the dangers of living so publicly.
Like many things at the Circle, these mantras are meant to be sincere but ultimately ring hollow in our own world.
Though the mantras presented above are key to how the Circle operates and spreads its ideals through society, they have surprisingly little bearing in the real world. To be sure, they reflect certain elements of our own digital world, but the essence of them is actually in opposition to what most people think about online transparency.
Mae's first statement is "secrets are lies", rationalizing that they make crimes possible and inspire speculation that can be incredibly damaging to people. However, for most of us, secrets are in fact true. Think about it; why go to the trouble to hide something from others if it was simply made up, as the Circle purports lies to be? We keep secrets because we're sometimes afraid of the truth, or sometimes others' reaction to it, not because we expressly set out to lie. Mae uses the metaphor of a locked door to illustrate that transparency shows only one truth, but fails to understand that humans are infinitely more complex. We keep secrets because we're afraid of what others may think of us, and it's our right to do so; they're our truths to tell or withhold at our discretion. We keep secrets to spare others' feelings, because sometimes the truth is just too painful to know. We keep secrets to protect ourselves; sometimes it can even be a matter of life and death. But Mae fails to understand these ideas, instead maintaining the naive and hypocritical opinion that transparency is ultimately best, even as she struggles to keep her own personal life private. In the real world, we value our secrets because they're essential to maintaining our relationships and even our sanity. In a way, our secrets help define who we are; many of our actions are guided by them, for good or ill. But ultimately, our secrets are the truth, pure and objective, which is why we go through so much trouble to keep them.
The second mantra, "sharing is caring", also has many of the same faults as its predecessor. Though many of us are taught this statement from an early age, associating it with sharing our own happiness with others, the Circle takes it far beyond sharing childhood toys on the playground. Bailey paints it in a positive light, using the excuse of his son's cerebral palsy to justify invading peoples' private experiences. Though knowledge is a basic human right, and sharing is how we learn and grow as a society, there's such a thing as sharing too much. Mae certainly feels that way when Francis videos them in an intimate moment; she can't believe that he's done something so blatantly violating. Certainly in our world, we don't want our private moments getting sent to everyone, lest we end up like many unfortunate celebrities caught unawares mid-coitus on video. Mae feels more than hurt by his actions, even though he shared their experience with what I can only assume were good intentions; did Mae feel cared for then?
The last mantra, "privacy is theft"is perhaps the most flawed. We consider privacy so sacred that we react extremely when it's taken from us, while the Circle maintains a completely opposite view. The mantra itself is a logical fallacy; if things were private, nobody would be able to take them, would they? It implies that the theft is of already public knowledge, leaving the true definition of privacy behind. In this situation, Mercer's reaction is perhaps most accurate, feeling violated when Mae shares his chandelier with her followers, and criticizing her for failing to see the dangers of living so publicly.
Like many things at the Circle, these mantras are meant to be sincere but ultimately ring hollow in our own world.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
"The Circle" Prompt #2
Data and personal privacy is perhaps one of today's most defining issues; we as humans are constantly pressured to display snippets of our lives on various media outlets for everyone to see, but at the same time, we're also deeply concerned with exactly how much of our lives are becoming public. Sure, it's all well and good to post on Facebook about our families or a vacation we took, but we'd feel supremely violated if details about our romantic lives or our financial information was suddenly exposed to the public. The paradox between the social need to share experiences and the personal need to guard our secrets is a central theme in The Circle, and Mae's experiences with the company reflect the dark implications of a world without privacy.
Mae's struggle with privacy is exemplified in The Circle's reaction to her father's health problems. Generally, people wouldn't want to air the details of a loved one's illness to the whole world, since it's a painful and traumatic experience that's deeply personal for those involved. However, Mae's supervisors and coworkers seem almost affronted that she chose not to disclose her father's diagnosis, even though that's an aspect of her life that should be kept private. The Circle's vast encroachment into peoples' lives had been presented as beneficial up to that point, and quickly started to feel, both to me as a reader and to Mae, rather invasive. Computers today are constantly collecting data about us behind the scenes; the music we like, what websites we visit, our preferred shopping locations, even the types of people we associate with. But behind all of that data, we still have a wall of privacy; most websites require profiles and passwords to use, keeping us comfortably anonymous without being enigmas, and keeping critical information, like our address and credit card number, hidden from other people. Mae has none of these benefits; her every action, transaction, word, and misfortune is documented in the name of a communal experience. To me, it's not an experience if you take it away from someone and slap it on a screen; the memory and feeling are lost in translation, eliminating its meaning for the person who actually did it.
Mae's loss of privacy also begins to affect her romance with Francis, which escalates after his experience with the LuvLuv service. Mae had initially uploaded all of her data to the Circle's cloud as was required, but didn't realize how impactful it became until her data was sorted through in order to match her with a date. Although her data was technically public, she still felt as if her privacy had been invaded because the context of its use suddenly became very personal to her, causing her discomfort. This was further exacerbated when Francis loudly announced in front of everyone that he and Mae were in a relationship, causing her to flee the room in embarrassment. Until that moment, Mae had enjoyed her privacy because everything else about her life was privy to the eyes of the Circle, but Francis' seeming disregard for that privacy deeply disturbed her. Again, experience is key; a relationship is built on the shared experiences and emotions of two people, and is deeply personal for those involved. Mae's romance suddenly became like all of her data, public and published for everyone to see and share without any feeling behind it,
In a digital world, the divide between data and privacy often feels blurred; we want our privacy, but love sharing our experiences with others. Perhaps the perfect medium between the two is impossible, but as Mae eventually learns, privacy is incredibly valuable in all aspects of life, something the Circle ultimately fails to understand, much to the detriment of everyone else.
Mae's struggle with privacy is exemplified in The Circle's reaction to her father's health problems. Generally, people wouldn't want to air the details of a loved one's illness to the whole world, since it's a painful and traumatic experience that's deeply personal for those involved. However, Mae's supervisors and coworkers seem almost affronted that she chose not to disclose her father's diagnosis, even though that's an aspect of her life that should be kept private. The Circle's vast encroachment into peoples' lives had been presented as beneficial up to that point, and quickly started to feel, both to me as a reader and to Mae, rather invasive. Computers today are constantly collecting data about us behind the scenes; the music we like, what websites we visit, our preferred shopping locations, even the types of people we associate with. But behind all of that data, we still have a wall of privacy; most websites require profiles and passwords to use, keeping us comfortably anonymous without being enigmas, and keeping critical information, like our address and credit card number, hidden from other people. Mae has none of these benefits; her every action, transaction, word, and misfortune is documented in the name of a communal experience. To me, it's not an experience if you take it away from someone and slap it on a screen; the memory and feeling are lost in translation, eliminating its meaning for the person who actually did it.
Mae's loss of privacy also begins to affect her romance with Francis, which escalates after his experience with the LuvLuv service. Mae had initially uploaded all of her data to the Circle's cloud as was required, but didn't realize how impactful it became until her data was sorted through in order to match her with a date. Although her data was technically public, she still felt as if her privacy had been invaded because the context of its use suddenly became very personal to her, causing her discomfort. This was further exacerbated when Francis loudly announced in front of everyone that he and Mae were in a relationship, causing her to flee the room in embarrassment. Until that moment, Mae had enjoyed her privacy because everything else about her life was privy to the eyes of the Circle, but Francis' seeming disregard for that privacy deeply disturbed her. Again, experience is key; a relationship is built on the shared experiences and emotions of two people, and is deeply personal for those involved. Mae's romance suddenly became like all of her data, public and published for everyone to see and share without any feeling behind it,
In a digital world, the divide between data and privacy often feels blurred; we want our privacy, but love sharing our experiences with others. Perhaps the perfect medium between the two is impossible, but as Mae eventually learns, privacy is incredibly valuable in all aspects of life, something the Circle ultimately fails to understand, much to the detriment of everyone else.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
"The Circle" Prompt #1
Just as Mae's professional career with the Circle began with a flurry of information, activity, and emotions, so too has my own academic career at Penn State. It's easy to relate how overwhelmed she felt beginning her job to how it often feels for me and many others too, but that's only part of the experience. Being a freshman is exhausting as well as invigorating, intimidating as it is inviting, and seemingly eternal as it is all too brief. Though the campus culture here isn't so "extreme", so to speak, as the one in the book, there are several similarities that relate to the "newbie" experience, as well as key differences that thankfully aren't as, say, dystopic , as they are for newbie Circlers.
One of the main similarities between the two is the vast amount of information being processed seemingly all at once. Mae herself is forced to work on two screens to handle the sheer volume of it all; that's something I can relate to, as I often find myself juggling work between my laptop, phone, and sometimes another computer to have everything laid out in front of me. However, whereas Mae has the dubious advantage of TruYou to keep all of her accounts, emails, and personal information in one place, we lowly students must constantly bounce from site to site to stay on top of our work. First, check webmail, the check ANGEL for homework until you remember that that professor actually uses CANVAS, only to find that they haven't updated it since syllabus week...and on and on it goes. Like Mae's campus tour, we're also all surrounded by entertainment and leisure activities to partake in, though nothing so illustrious as tetherball and self-massages. (Someone should get on that.) Our emails are constantly inundated with late night activities, weekend movies, invites to clubs...and yes, even the Thirsty Thursday parties are always around for us to go ignore our responsibilities for a night.
However, Penn State's campus can often be just as confusing and maze-like as that of the Circle's. Mae is dazed by the amount of activity going on between all of the different buildings, which are spread out and all appear uniform: sleek, modern, and trendily transparent. When I first arruved to start classes, I admit I was a bit daunted by the sprawl of buildings that I was somehow expected to navigate at 8 AM every morning. Though I fortunately had summer session to prepare me for all the walking, I wasn't prepared for the 20-minute walk from East to West campus day after day. It truly feels some days, as Mae would say, "vast and rambling", though after spending several months here it's finally starting to feel like home.
A final connection between the 2 campuses is the widespread community involvement throughout both of them. In Mae's case, the Circle has slogans such as "Community First" and "Participate" to foster a relationship between all employees and encourage productivity. Penn State itself is no stranger to community events, with THON, football games, and even impromptu ones like listening to the Willard Preacher and suffering on a crowded CATA bus bringing us together through shared experiences. (In the bus' case, sometimes closer than we'd like.) These slogans also remind Circlers to be more than just mindless workers, just as our traditions encourage us to go out and get involved.
Many of these experiences and ideologies are universal, existing for both the Circle and Penn State. Like Mae, many of us will initially struggle to adapt to them, though it's only a matter of time before we find ourselves getting comfortable, even if it's in a tiny dorm room instead of a cubicle in California.
One of the main similarities between the two is the vast amount of information being processed seemingly all at once. Mae herself is forced to work on two screens to handle the sheer volume of it all; that's something I can relate to, as I often find myself juggling work between my laptop, phone, and sometimes another computer to have everything laid out in front of me. However, whereas Mae has the dubious advantage of TruYou to keep all of her accounts, emails, and personal information in one place, we lowly students must constantly bounce from site to site to stay on top of our work. First, check webmail, the check ANGEL for homework until you remember that that professor actually uses CANVAS, only to find that they haven't updated it since syllabus week...and on and on it goes. Like Mae's campus tour, we're also all surrounded by entertainment and leisure activities to partake in, though nothing so illustrious as tetherball and self-massages. (Someone should get on that.) Our emails are constantly inundated with late night activities, weekend movies, invites to clubs...and yes, even the Thirsty Thursday parties are always around for us to go ignore our responsibilities for a night.
However, Penn State's campus can often be just as confusing and maze-like as that of the Circle's. Mae is dazed by the amount of activity going on between all of the different buildings, which are spread out and all appear uniform: sleek, modern, and trendily transparent. When I first arruved to start classes, I admit I was a bit daunted by the sprawl of buildings that I was somehow expected to navigate at 8 AM every morning. Though I fortunately had summer session to prepare me for all the walking, I wasn't prepared for the 20-minute walk from East to West campus day after day. It truly feels some days, as Mae would say, "vast and rambling", though after spending several months here it's finally starting to feel like home.
A final connection between the 2 campuses is the widespread community involvement throughout both of them. In Mae's case, the Circle has slogans such as "Community First" and "Participate" to foster a relationship between all employees and encourage productivity. Penn State itself is no stranger to community events, with THON, football games, and even impromptu ones like listening to the Willard Preacher and suffering on a crowded CATA bus bringing us together through shared experiences. (In the bus' case, sometimes closer than we'd like.) These slogans also remind Circlers to be more than just mindless workers, just as our traditions encourage us to go out and get involved.
Many of these experiences and ideologies are universal, existing for both the Circle and Penn State. Like Mae, many of us will initially struggle to adapt to them, though it's only a matter of time before we find ourselves getting comfortable, even if it's in a tiny dorm room instead of a cubicle in California.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
The Passion Blog
A Blog of Ice and Fire
As anyone who's ever engaged me in a conversation about TV shows before can tell you, HBO's Game of Thrones is my favorite show of all time. Though I'm far from the only one that watches it, something that's less common is peoples' knowledge of the source material, the book series A Song of Ice and Fire. In my case, I've engaged with both, and I'm slightly more partial to the books given my love of reading. However, realizing that blogging about a popular book series would require more than just rhetorical analysis, I thought about doing a psychoanalysis of certain characters and tying it back to how we function psychologically in the real world. A fictional world full of intrigue, assassination, and twisted family dynamics is ripe to be picked apart, providing plenty of fascinating content that is also relevant to the world we inhabit today. PTSD? Got it. Extreme narcissism? Yep. Incest...gross, but there's psychology behind that one too, believe it or not.
Memeology
According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, a meme is defined as: "an idea, behavior, or style that spreads from person to person within a culture." Several major universities both in the U.S. and globally even offer courses on memeology, the study of memes, as an analysis of cultural and social phenomena. (Penn State, unfortunately, isn't one of them.) As anyone who knows me can also tell you, I love memes, possibly to a slightly excessive degree. But beyond their basic comedic value, memes and their perceived humor are actually due to a complex social and psychological reaction in the human brain, something that I find truly fascinating. (Not to mention, it gives me an excuse to trawl the Internet for memes rather than do homework.) Each week, I'll take a different meme and explain its deep psychological meaning, as well as its social impact on how we perceive humor in an Internet and social media-based world.
Thoughts, comments, questions? Let me know.
As anyone who's ever engaged me in a conversation about TV shows before can tell you, HBO's Game of Thrones is my favorite show of all time. Though I'm far from the only one that watches it, something that's less common is peoples' knowledge of the source material, the book series A Song of Ice and Fire. In my case, I've engaged with both, and I'm slightly more partial to the books given my love of reading. However, realizing that blogging about a popular book series would require more than just rhetorical analysis, I thought about doing a psychoanalysis of certain characters and tying it back to how we function psychologically in the real world. A fictional world full of intrigue, assassination, and twisted family dynamics is ripe to be picked apart, providing plenty of fascinating content that is also relevant to the world we inhabit today. PTSD? Got it. Extreme narcissism? Yep. Incest...gross, but there's psychology behind that one too, believe it or not.
Credit: Helen Sloan/HBO
Memeology
According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, a meme is defined as: "an idea, behavior, or style that spreads from person to person within a culture." Several major universities both in the U.S. and globally even offer courses on memeology, the study of memes, as an analysis of cultural and social phenomena. (Penn State, unfortunately, isn't one of them.) As anyone who knows me can also tell you, I love memes, possibly to a slightly excessive degree. But beyond their basic comedic value, memes and their perceived humor are actually due to a complex social and psychological reaction in the human brain, something that I find truly fascinating. (Not to mention, it gives me an excuse to trawl the Internet for memes rather than do homework.) Each week, I'll take a different meme and explain its deep psychological meaning, as well as its social impact on how we perceive humor in an Internet and social media-based world.
Thoughts, comments, questions? Let me know.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)