Have you ever been confronted with a situation in which you are astounded by the seriousness of it all? Have you ever thought “Jesus, calm down, take it easy”. Basically a situation where you didn’t really understand why someone was taking something so much more seriously than you?
Ok, I’ll admit it, it was rhetorical. But still, have you ever wondered why it is exactly that some people take an organization for example more seriously than others? A basic human organization from, a committee, an NGO, a sorority, a fraternity, a company, a family… a community. Civic involvement. Lord, the amount of jokes cracked about that. Alright, so what makes people place so much value on an organization of people?
Why do we write election statements and try to find the raison-d’etre of a fucking sorority? It’s a bunch of girls being pretty and drinking rose. That’s all it is. I kid you not. Honest, there’s absolutely nothing more to it. But yet one would try to find meaning and place a high value of on it. And this seems to be happening all the time. “What make you happy and why?” – “I’m a lawyer, and it makes me happy to excel at it. But lawyers do have a true purpose, their purpose is to be better and smarter and more socially able to than their opponents”. No, you idiot. That’s an instrument. Your skills are instruments, middle-men between you, the person who lacks meaning in their own existence, and a goal you’re trying to reach.
My point is: why the are we trying to make instruments a purpose in themselves? Why not just call the end goal the roasted turkey and call a fork what it is: a piece of metal to cut it with. Handling the damn fork is not a purpose in itself, it’s a tool.
This is freaking why you have so many workaholics and gazillions of different types and forms of organizations taking their internal rules and procedures so seriously. Management is not a purpose in itself. It’s a motherfucking tool. Learn that. Management serves the purpose of the company. Management does not exist spontaneously and no one would ever think of it if they didn’t have an actual end that they needed to get to.
So my advice is stop trying to artificially find meaning in stuff that is unimportant! Figure out what is truly meaningful to you, have the guts to face yourself, instead of ignoring your cowardly ‘rationality’ in constructing a mental frame in which your profession is justified to be your life.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Saddest Thing - For Non-Philosophy Majors
The saddest thing I have ever realized (over and over and over) is that kindness will never be hip.
It will never be mainstream, it will never be free of charge. Even the word itself has a pompous connotation. Most importantly, the sheer act of making someone else happy, will never be enjoyed by more than a handful of people at the same time in one particular hemisphere. Not in the true sense anyway.
Ghandi stand-up comedy, movies and quotes may be enjoyed. Quotes mostly. I love the average university student quoting “be the change you want to see in the world” in every major presentation, paper and motivation letter. I love all the teachers and businessmen giving away just a few hours or just a few cents to “help the world become better”. I love all the vaguely comprehensive and powerfully positive words such as “better”. I mostly love all the people kidding themselves they are a friend.
Few care. And why would we. Really now, we’ve got all the skills to perfectly demonstrate that we do. Minimize effort, maximize outcome, right? We’ve got this awesome command of the international language of human rights, free speech, free economy, free thought, free enterprise and general ‘betterness’. And we’ve got the university degree to prove it.
It’s not even about us on our small campus in a small city of a small country of a small continent. It’s actually irrelevant where you look - national, international, small, huge, middle-sized communities – culture is mostly pointless in this matter. It’s not about whether you value symmetric suburbs or lose morals, it’s not about sanctifying naked actresses over devout conservatives, blatant corruption over covered corruption or rakia over wine. It’s that the vast majority of people value many wonderfully diverse feelings that never have anything to do with kindness. And how strongly people stand by those values.
You may call them sacred, you may call them normal. If you’re very bored, you may call them “cool”. And you simulate kindness and no one could ever possibly suspect you of even for a single second having a clear thought or even the slightest glimpse of an intention of doing harm. Not for one second, never. Few things could make a person sadder than seeing it in a friend.
Fewer things could make anyone happier than having been the cause of an honest smile.
But then, the less the former hurts, the less one enjoys the latter and the more cynically greedy and jealous you become.
I suppose the greatest thing I keep realizing in my life is that I’m enough of a social idiot to spend time thinking and talking and writing about this.
It will never be mainstream, it will never be free of charge. Even the word itself has a pompous connotation. Most importantly, the sheer act of making someone else happy, will never be enjoyed by more than a handful of people at the same time in one particular hemisphere. Not in the true sense anyway.
Ghandi stand-up comedy, movies and quotes may be enjoyed. Quotes mostly. I love the average university student quoting “be the change you want to see in the world” in every major presentation, paper and motivation letter. I love all the teachers and businessmen giving away just a few hours or just a few cents to “help the world become better”. I love all the vaguely comprehensive and powerfully positive words such as “better”. I mostly love all the people kidding themselves they are a friend.
Few care. And why would we. Really now, we’ve got all the skills to perfectly demonstrate that we do. Minimize effort, maximize outcome, right? We’ve got this awesome command of the international language of human rights, free speech, free economy, free thought, free enterprise and general ‘betterness’. And we’ve got the university degree to prove it.
It’s not even about us on our small campus in a small city of a small country of a small continent. It’s actually irrelevant where you look - national, international, small, huge, middle-sized communities – culture is mostly pointless in this matter. It’s not about whether you value symmetric suburbs or lose morals, it’s not about sanctifying naked actresses over devout conservatives, blatant corruption over covered corruption or rakia over wine. It’s that the vast majority of people value many wonderfully diverse feelings that never have anything to do with kindness. And how strongly people stand by those values.
You may call them sacred, you may call them normal. If you’re very bored, you may call them “cool”. And you simulate kindness and no one could ever possibly suspect you of even for a single second having a clear thought or even the slightest glimpse of an intention of doing harm. Not for one second, never. Few things could make a person sadder than seeing it in a friend.
Fewer things could make anyone happier than having been the cause of an honest smile.
But then, the less the former hurts, the less one enjoys the latter and the more cynically greedy and jealous you become.
I suppose the greatest thing I keep realizing in my life is that I’m enough of a social idiot to spend time thinking and talking and writing about this.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
90 posts! - Romanian Chronicles
So here I am. Fresh into my first month in the Romanian wilderness. Rather Southern and Transylvanian wildernesses. In any case, quite the trip.
However, I find myself completely unable to write about it. It's the kind of "too much has happened"-situation, where the effect in itself is enough to fill up any man's attention span for a week. Ok, a day. But it's still not bad.
Things I don't like about Romanians and have had a hard time adapting to in the first 2 weeks:
1. They don't look you straight in the eye when they speak to you. It makes you feel like you're part of the scenery and they're actually speaking to themselves. Seriously, not cool.
2. They get intimidated and will tell you so if you continuously look them in eye when in a conversation.
3. Will all invariably ask the same questions. Regardless of the accent, I will find myself having to say "No, I did not bring any pot back home. Because I want to go back there in two months. Yes, I've smoked it. Yes, you do feel different. Yes, I like it there. No, I don't have the time to fully explain what it is that I'm studying. Also won't explain what meeting I just had. Because it takes too fucking long."
4. Will again invariably end up asking "Si altfel ce mai faci?" or something of the sort, unless you are actual friends prior to the conversation. ("So how else are you?")
5. Again, unless friends prior to the conversation, will have one of the two reactions when hearing you study in Holland: "you - God. me - not worthy" or "I am completely ignoring the fact that we have nothing to talk about because we have nothing in common so I am going to ask 'Si altfel ce mai faci?' or something of the sort".
6. Too many girls wear excessive make-up, dress as if sex toys on heals and expect to be taken seriously.
7. Guys are completely comfortable staring at your breasts for a good couple of minutes. No, you may not ask them not to. Because it would in no way have a positive effect. Because it's like asking Dutch guys not to wear hair gel. Social faux-pas.
8. Many conversations end up in discussing attributes of cars owned by neighbours.
9. Meeting someone new in Transylvanian cities generally implies being ignored at least for the first 10 minutes. If you prove yourself worthy, you may perhaps be allowed to enter a terribly interesting conversation regarding the above-mentioned cars owned by neighbours.
10. Why do people refuse to look you in the eye for a full damn sentence?
Things I've missed about Romania:
1. Family.
2. Friends.
3. Being able to understand all the subtleties of the language spoken around you.
4. Some kinds of cheese.
... Yup, that's about it.
Hooray, I'm home!
However, I find myself completely unable to write about it. It's the kind of "too much has happened"-situation, where the effect in itself is enough to fill up any man's attention span for a week. Ok, a day. But it's still not bad.
Things I don't like about Romanians and have had a hard time adapting to in the first 2 weeks:
1. They don't look you straight in the eye when they speak to you. It makes you feel like you're part of the scenery and they're actually speaking to themselves. Seriously, not cool.
2. They get intimidated and will tell you so if you continuously look them in eye when in a conversation.
3. Will all invariably ask the same questions. Regardless of the accent, I will find myself having to say "No, I did not bring any pot back home. Because I want to go back there in two months. Yes, I've smoked it. Yes, you do feel different. Yes, I like it there. No, I don't have the time to fully explain what it is that I'm studying. Also won't explain what meeting I just had. Because it takes too fucking long."
4. Will again invariably end up asking "Si altfel ce mai faci?" or something of the sort, unless you are actual friends prior to the conversation. ("So how else are you?")
5. Again, unless friends prior to the conversation, will have one of the two reactions when hearing you study in Holland: "you - God. me - not worthy" or "I am completely ignoring the fact that we have nothing to talk about because we have nothing in common so I am going to ask 'Si altfel ce mai faci?' or something of the sort".
6. Too many girls wear excessive make-up, dress as if sex toys on heals and expect to be taken seriously.
7. Guys are completely comfortable staring at your breasts for a good couple of minutes. No, you may not ask them not to. Because it would in no way have a positive effect. Because it's like asking Dutch guys not to wear hair gel. Social faux-pas.
8. Many conversations end up in discussing attributes of cars owned by neighbours.
9. Meeting someone new in Transylvanian cities generally implies being ignored at least for the first 10 minutes. If you prove yourself worthy, you may perhaps be allowed to enter a terribly interesting conversation regarding the above-mentioned cars owned by neighbours.
10. Why do people refuse to look you in the eye for a full damn sentence?
Things I've missed about Romania:
1. Family.
2. Friends.
3. Being able to understand all the subtleties of the language spoken around you.
4. Some kinds of cheese.
... Yup, that's about it.
Hooray, I'm home!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Stop staring at me!
Cred ca inteleg de ce nimeni nu a scris pana acum o carte majora despre diferentele dintre Romania si tarile vestice, o carte care sa surprinda aspecte din diferite domenii, de la psihologie la lingvistica si economie. Nu au facut-o fiindca e inutil.
Majoritatea studentilor romani plecati in afara isi pun intrebarile astea. Spun majoritatea fiindca nu toti au interese inter-culturale si nu toti sunt meditativi din fire. De fapt mai degraba spun "majoritatea" pentru a lasa o portita de scapare. Inca nu am intalnit nici un student roman plecat care sa nu fi ajuns la concluzii pe aceasta tema.
De ce ar fi inutila o asemenea carte deci?
Pai dupa o saptamana esti socat. Dupa o luna esti ceva mai putin socat. Dupa cateva luni incepi sa compari mai lucid. Dupa un semestru crezi ca reusesti sa compari chiar lucid. In curand incepi sa formulezi concluzii. Ajungi la anumite raspunsuri, dar apar noi intrebari. Raspunsurile se schimba in timp. Dar tot e bine ca ti-ai pus intrebarile in loc sa te intorci cu doar "bambina" si "ragazza" inserate in vocabular.
Dupa un semestru jumate intelegi "lumea vestica" foarte bine. O intelegi atat de bine incat realizezi ca nu poti generaliza in predictabilitate nici macar de la om la om, cu atat mai putin de la tara la tara invecinata, aproape deloc intre Italia si Anglia, chiar deloc intre Olanda si SUA. Si ce e cel mai tragic e ca totul se schimba.
Acum daca tot ai ajuns pana aici - ai gandit si rasgandit probleme, ai comparat, ai transat si-ai aplicat diferite perspective culturale - ar fi cea mai mare prostie sa scrii o carte pe care-o termini in "Nu exista nici o concluzie pe care o pot admite drept nici macar propria-mi sincera opinie."
Pe cuvant, uneori ma simt exact ca o maimuta in gradina zoologica. Stii ca existi, stii ca trebuie sa mananci, stii ca trebuie sa fii social pentru a te putea intr-un final reproduce, dar de ce se chiombesc astia la tine zilnic n-ai nici cea mai vaga idee.
Majoritatea studentilor romani plecati in afara isi pun intrebarile astea. Spun majoritatea fiindca nu toti au interese inter-culturale si nu toti sunt meditativi din fire. De fapt mai degraba spun "majoritatea" pentru a lasa o portita de scapare. Inca nu am intalnit nici un student roman plecat care sa nu fi ajuns la concluzii pe aceasta tema.
De ce ar fi inutila o asemenea carte deci?
Pai dupa o saptamana esti socat. Dupa o luna esti ceva mai putin socat. Dupa cateva luni incepi sa compari mai lucid. Dupa un semestru crezi ca reusesti sa compari chiar lucid. In curand incepi sa formulezi concluzii. Ajungi la anumite raspunsuri, dar apar noi intrebari. Raspunsurile se schimba in timp. Dar tot e bine ca ti-ai pus intrebarile in loc sa te intorci cu doar "bambina" si "ragazza" inserate in vocabular.
Dupa un semestru jumate intelegi "lumea vestica" foarte bine. O intelegi atat de bine incat realizezi ca nu poti generaliza in predictabilitate nici macar de la om la om, cu atat mai putin de la tara la tara invecinata, aproape deloc intre Italia si Anglia, chiar deloc intre Olanda si SUA. Si ce e cel mai tragic e ca totul se schimba.
Acum daca tot ai ajuns pana aici - ai gandit si rasgandit probleme, ai comparat, ai transat si-ai aplicat diferite perspective culturale - ar fi cea mai mare prostie sa scrii o carte pe care-o termini in "Nu exista nici o concluzie pe care o pot admite drept nici macar propria-mi sincera opinie."
Pe cuvant, uneori ma simt exact ca o maimuta in gradina zoologica. Stii ca existi, stii ca trebuie sa mananci, stii ca trebuie sa fii social pentru a te putea intr-un final reproduce, dar de ce se chiombesc astia la tine zilnic n-ai nici cea mai vaga idee.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
A vinde pui sau a nu te vinde pe tine?
Un articol pe hotnews.ro prezinta povestea lui Adrian Buzatu, un student roman de 25 de ani. Pana acum a vazut o buna particica din lume. A studiat si lucrat in Franta, Canada si Japonia cel putin. Mai era un loc, dar articolul a fost prea haotic in relatare. In orice caz, visul liceanului roman. In mod evident, a plecat sa studieze fizica, in urma participarii la (nu stim daca si a castigarii) olimpiadele nationale de fizica. Natural. Fiindca pentru liceenii romani doar fizica, matematica si cu indulgenta chimia au vreo relevanta adevarata. Doar ele pot masura picurii de scanteie de inteligenta pe care un student roman obisnuit o poate avea.
Nota - ironizez o mentalitate, nu o persoana. Ar fi trebuit sa fie evident, dar de dragul sus-numitei sclipiri am ajuns la un compromis.
Articolul perpetueaza o imagine a studentului roman plecat in afara pe cat de idolatrizata, pe atat de lipsita de relevanta pentru 90% din cititori.
Simt ca ar trebui sa insist asupra unor aspecte:
1. Olimpicii la sus-numitele fatidice trei materii de stiinta nu sunt singurii care au vreo sansa reala de a pleca din tara pentru studiu. Ei reprezinta o categorie admirabila, insa foarte restransa din totalul celor plecati.
2. De ce? Fiindca spre deosebire de Romania, alte tari prezinta sisteme educationala trecute de faza anilor '70. Inteligenta sociala conteaza. Ea pune totul in miscare. Sigur ca e important sa stii cum se creaza un cip de calculator sau cum se calculeaza integrala necesara determinarii unei traiectorii (Sofia, opreste-ma) a unei masini in testare. Insa e la fel de important sa iei sau sa influentezi decizia construirii masini in primul rand. Sau de angajare a cercetatorilor. Sau de punere pe piata a produsului. Sau de convingere a oricui in legatura cu orice decizie. De a gandi critic (dincolo de manualele incomprehensibile de a 11a pentru comunicare) si in ansamblu. Mereu vor exista oameni care lucreaza in detaliu si oameni care lucreaza pentru cei care aleg sa vada doar detaliile.
Bottom line: poti pleca si ai sanse mari sa o faci aplicand pentru programe variate, de la drept international la actorie.
3. Bursele nu se "ofera". Nimeni nu-ti va bate la usa cu un cec la Stanford fiindca "esti bun". N-o sa petreaca nici un profesor de la Haga nopti albe cautand prin foile tale matricole performante sclipitoare. Inteleg de ce romanul are mentalitatea pasiva. Decenii nu a fost legal sa o aiba activa. Insa haideti fratilor, a trecut ceva vreme. Daca iti doresti ceva, te ridici din scaunul comfortabil al ironiei si satirei la adresa nenorocirii de sistem romanesc si deschizi o pagina web (whoa!) cu adevarat utila. Cauta topul universitatilor din lume. Ia-le la rand si vezi ce-ti face cu ochiul. Apoi vezi care ofera bursa, daca ai nevoie. Apoi inchide pagina de web. Nu, nu, serios, inchide-o. Si deschide Word. Scrie un CV, o scrisoare de motivare si cere altora sa scrie una de recomandare. Pune in plic sau apasa "send" (mai nou se face se aplica online direct) si acum poti deschide Yahoo Messenger. In nici un caz nu sustin plecarea tuturor celor care pot, insa nici misticismul "stiudiului in afara" nu e tocmai benefic. Se poate. Si o decizie cu care poti trai e una luata in cunostinta de cauza.
4. In sfarsit, titlul postului. Adrian Buzatu a vandut pui dupa ore pentru a se intretine in timpul facultatii. A vandut pui, dom'le. Mai ca n-a lmaturat strazi. " Ce face nevoie din tine, vezi? D-aia nu plec io de unde mi-i bine. ".
As vrea sa condamn pe aceasta cale atitudinea sugerata mai sus. As dori de asemenea sa trag romanul mandru cu 3 euro in cont de pe tronul imaginar al "demnitatii" inspre realitatea capitalismului. Munca nu e o corvoada inutila sub demnitatea lui Nea Gica. Desi poate parea asa.
O amica plecata si ea la universitate in vestul Europei mi-a marturisit de curand blocajul mental pe care l-a intampinat atunci cand un prieten (fara nevoi financiare neintampinate) a invitat-o sa stranga pahare de plastic impreuna la un festival pentru cei cativa euro primiti in schimbul lor, banii revenindu-i ei. Blocaj mental major in care imaginile parintilor si prietenilor dezamagiti au aparut instantaneu.
Sa nu fiu acuzata de ipocrizie: Vineri l-am cunoscut pe CFO-ul Unilever. Sambata mi-am pus boneta de brood meisje pe cap si am taiat paine intr-o brutarie. Duminica am discutat din punct de vedere sociologic problema coruptiei si a pesimismului in Romania cu o profesoara din Amsterdam. Ieri am primit din nou felicitari pentru pozitia de presedinta a unei fundatii.
Lasati balta preconceptiile "demnitatii" voastre intre a manca seminte la televizor si a bea bere la pet intr-un apartament care sta sa cada prin Dristor si a munci temporar pentru bani putini, dar cu adevarat respectabili.
Nota - ironizez o mentalitate, nu o persoana. Ar fi trebuit sa fie evident, dar de dragul sus-numitei sclipiri am ajuns la un compromis.
Articolul perpetueaza o imagine a studentului roman plecat in afara pe cat de idolatrizata, pe atat de lipsita de relevanta pentru 90% din cititori.
Simt ca ar trebui sa insist asupra unor aspecte:
1. Olimpicii la sus-numitele fatidice trei materii de stiinta nu sunt singurii care au vreo sansa reala de a pleca din tara pentru studiu. Ei reprezinta o categorie admirabila, insa foarte restransa din totalul celor plecati.
2. De ce? Fiindca spre deosebire de Romania, alte tari prezinta sisteme educationala trecute de faza anilor '70. Inteligenta sociala conteaza. Ea pune totul in miscare. Sigur ca e important sa stii cum se creaza un cip de calculator sau cum se calculeaza integrala necesara determinarii unei traiectorii (Sofia, opreste-ma) a unei masini in testare. Insa e la fel de important sa iei sau sa influentezi decizia construirii masini in primul rand. Sau de angajare a cercetatorilor. Sau de punere pe piata a produsului. Sau de convingere a oricui in legatura cu orice decizie. De a gandi critic (dincolo de manualele incomprehensibile de a 11a pentru comunicare) si in ansamblu. Mereu vor exista oameni care lucreaza in detaliu si oameni care lucreaza pentru cei care aleg sa vada doar detaliile.
Bottom line: poti pleca si ai sanse mari sa o faci aplicand pentru programe variate, de la drept international la actorie.
3. Bursele nu se "ofera". Nimeni nu-ti va bate la usa cu un cec la Stanford fiindca "esti bun". N-o sa petreaca nici un profesor de la Haga nopti albe cautand prin foile tale matricole performante sclipitoare. Inteleg de ce romanul are mentalitatea pasiva. Decenii nu a fost legal sa o aiba activa. Insa haideti fratilor, a trecut ceva vreme. Daca iti doresti ceva, te ridici din scaunul comfortabil al ironiei si satirei la adresa nenorocirii de sistem romanesc si deschizi o pagina web (whoa!) cu adevarat utila. Cauta topul universitatilor din lume. Ia-le la rand si vezi ce-ti face cu ochiul. Apoi vezi care ofera bursa, daca ai nevoie. Apoi inchide pagina de web. Nu, nu, serios, inchide-o. Si deschide Word. Scrie un CV, o scrisoare de motivare si cere altora sa scrie una de recomandare. Pune in plic sau apasa "send" (mai nou se face se aplica online direct) si acum poti deschide Yahoo Messenger. In nici un caz nu sustin plecarea tuturor celor care pot, insa nici misticismul "stiudiului in afara" nu e tocmai benefic. Se poate. Si o decizie cu care poti trai e una luata in cunostinta de cauza.
4. In sfarsit, titlul postului. Adrian Buzatu a vandut pui dupa ore pentru a se intretine in timpul facultatii. A vandut pui, dom'le. Mai ca n-a lmaturat strazi. " Ce face nevoie din tine, vezi? D-aia nu plec io de unde mi-i bine. ".
As vrea sa condamn pe aceasta cale atitudinea sugerata mai sus. As dori de asemenea sa trag romanul mandru cu 3 euro in cont de pe tronul imaginar al "demnitatii" inspre realitatea capitalismului. Munca nu e o corvoada inutila sub demnitatea lui Nea Gica. Desi poate parea asa.
O amica plecata si ea la universitate in vestul Europei mi-a marturisit de curand blocajul mental pe care l-a intampinat atunci cand un prieten (fara nevoi financiare neintampinate) a invitat-o sa stranga pahare de plastic impreuna la un festival pentru cei cativa euro primiti in schimbul lor, banii revenindu-i ei. Blocaj mental major in care imaginile parintilor si prietenilor dezamagiti au aparut instantaneu.
Sa nu fiu acuzata de ipocrizie: Vineri l-am cunoscut pe CFO-ul Unilever. Sambata mi-am pus boneta de brood meisje pe cap si am taiat paine intr-o brutarie. Duminica am discutat din punct de vedere sociologic problema coruptiei si a pesimismului in Romania cu o profesoara din Amsterdam. Ieri am primit din nou felicitari pentru pozitia de presedinta a unei fundatii.
Lasati balta preconceptiile "demnitatii" voastre intre a manca seminte la televizor si a bea bere la pet intr-un apartament care sta sa cada prin Dristor si a munci temporar pentru bani putini, dar cu adevarat respectabili.
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