Complimenting family as a social construct is the observation of how relationships exist amongst people with independent (as opposed to interdependent) self concepts. At 4:09 am, I am a bit too tired to go into detail, and risk plagiarizing a really great paper, so you can read it here, courtesy of the good old University of British Columbia.

Raymond Carver, an author whose work I am not too fond of, does a nice job at illustrating the emotional strain between wanting to believe that love is real and eternal, while facing the reality of knowing how transactional relationships really are:

“You’ve both been married before, just like us. And you probably loved other people before that too, even. Terri and I have been together five years, been married for four. And the terrible thing, the terrible thing is, but the good thing too, the saving grace, you might say, is that if something happened to one of us—excuse me for saying this—but if something happened to one of us tomorrow, I think the other one, the other person, would grieve for a while, you know, but then the surviving party would go out and love again, and have someone else soon enough. All this, all of this love, we’re talking about, it would be just a memory.” (Carver, 1981 — “What we talk about when we talk about love”)

The above passage is referring to romantic relationships, but it can be applied to any type of relationship. I love my brothers; I love my mom; I love my late father, but we are not a family anymore.  Once we were a family, but we no longer are (unless you want to get all Slaughterhouse Five on the linearity of our lifetimes).  Yeah, it’s painful to think about sometimes, but at least I have silly abstract theories to comfort myself with, right?

Goodnight. Good morning.

Which is basically how most good conspiracy theories go.

The anti-vaccine people are not crazy.  They are just ignorant.  (Remember, if you don’t have enough knowledge to back up your opinions in an argument, just diss the appearance of a well-educated doctor).

I started writing about this, but it got out of hand.  I could go on all day.

In short: EMPIRICISM FTW.

A few years ago, I was in a really shitty quasi-relationship with the above mentioned fellow.  In a class discussion today, something caused a light bulb to go off in my head, and offer another suggestion as to why the other person in the relationship was so unpleasant.

So we were discussing a simplified dichotomy of natural sciences vs. humanities.  The prof then mentioned research about autism vs. schizophrenia, and how they can be seen as being on different ends of the spectrum (in regards to a patient’s reaction to an outside agent).   He jokingly (?) mentioned that those who think pragmatically, and are often more interested in natural sciences could be found closer to the autism end of the spectrum, while those in the humanities would be found on the opposite end.

(This probably doesn’t make much sense to most people reading this, so sorry for the crappy attempt at describing something really cool)

Going back to the robot discussion, I thought maybe this idea of pragmatic thinking complimenting someone who lacks empathy, but recognizes patterns in different people enough to be able to manipulate them makes sense.  By looking at the world in a mechanistic manner, a person is less subject to feelings of empathy — or really, anything.

I’m not getting into the other end of the spectrum and schizophrenia tonight, though.

Ciao.

1) The foolish person who should have checked his or her luggage, and not brought it as carry-on: This person typically sits in one of the first few rows of Economy. While boarding for the economy class section is supposed to start from the back, this person pays no regard to such instructions, and boards early. What happens when a person sitting in the 3rd row of a 40 row section boards first, and his or her luggage does not fit above or below the seat?

An absolute standstill of people who cannot board the plane, cause this douchebag failed to consider basic logistics, of course!

2) The sad looking family: A nuclear family consisting of a mother, a father and at least two children. The family huddles around the entrance to the gates, as though this will somehow improve their probability of boarding their flight, and sitting in their preassigned seats, or something. The father, who we will called “Dad”, goes up to the counter several times to ensure that their seats are all together, and that their flight hasn’t been canceled, because of that one time in Tampa Bay when two members of the family ended up in row 17, and the other two ended up in row 14. You are correct if you were about to ask “are the shirts they are wearing souvenirs from their vacation?”

3) The fancy aspiring executive: The fancy aspiring executive has fancy clothes, electronics and carry-on luggage. He talks fancy about the fancy things he will do. The usually sits in the middle seat, which gives him a better chance of being able to tell a person sitting next to him about his grandiose future, which he has so naively determined.

4) The wastecase (that’s me!): This passenger shows up to the airport a few hours early, if possible, so that she (or he) can make a bee line to the Maple Leaf Lounge (or other lounge) and drink as much “free” booze as possible before boarding the plane. Once bar service has commenced on the plane, drinking continues. The wastecase is super afraid of flying, despite flying on the regular. Wastecase feels like shit today. Wastecases can smell each other out, and are delighted to find another of their type at the airport bar, and are especially stoked if they happen to get a seat next to another one on a flight. BOTTLES UP, IDIOTS!

5) The screaming baby (and the screaming baby’s handler): Not having children of my own, I sometimes feel it is unfair to judge these people harshly. Still, Murphy’s Law dictates that you will always be sitting within 4 feet of a screaming baby on any flight that is to last longer than 3 hours. How does this happen? I’m not sure, but I should invest in some noise canceling headphones. Sitting a wastecase near a screaming baby is dangerous, unless the wastecase also has some Valium (which I do!). I dream of the day that airlines will construct isolation booths that screaming infants can all be thrown into for the duration of the flight.

6) The person who looks like a bum, but is sitting in the first row of Executive: You always think “WTF?” After the “WTF” moment, you then think “this is another lesson in not judging a book by its cover”. Being archetype #6 is fun.

7) Post 9/11 “ethnic” looking person: the events of September 11th, 2001 have made it so that when people who look remotely “terroristy” enter an airport, heads turn. Whether buying a 4$ orange juice at the terminal, or reading the Globe and Mail, in the eyes of many, these passengers ARE terrorists until the plane lands at its destination unscathed. I’ve been on flights where people have asked to have their seats changed, so as not to sit next to someone Middle Eastern. I don’t even have the words to express how fucked up that sort of behaviour is.

The proselytizer: So, being stuck next to a person on a plane for several hours, who is really passionate about Jesus, can be awkward. Because I am person #4, the wastecase, I start to feel guilty a few hours into the flight when sat next to proselytizers. If it’s a really boring flight, I’ll totally read their religious literature though.

9) The sleeper: How the devil did you manage to fall asleep before the plane took off, and not wake up until it landed? Give me your drugs!

10) The absolutely wasted missed connection: You will find him (and sometimes her) at the airport bar. 18-hour stopover? Missed your connection, or your connecting flight was canceled? What are you going to do? The logical thing, of course, is to sidle up to the airport bar and drink double scotch on the rocks until it’s time to board your plane. AWMC call their partners about once ever 15 minutes to tell the partner “baby, I’m still at the airport. Fucking bureaucracy! Fucking [insert airline here]! I’ll be home soon, baby. I love you, baby. Yeah, they don’t know when the next available flight will be; they’re all booked up. I’ve been at the airport for 18 hours…” After getting off the phone, AWMC will chat up the bartender like he or she is their best friend. The more alcohol that is consumed, the greater the odds are that the conversation will turn to football.

That’s pretty wack, but I guess it’s bittersweet that the father was able to save his daughter’s life, thanks in part to the immediate reaction of the boyfriend.

The strange thing about this article is that it presents the issue, not as a medical/social/psychological problem, but as an example of misusing the Internet.  It’s the social media bogeyman; people are so connected that they are doing CRAZY, CRAZY things on the Internet!  It’s like “idiotic teens/young people and their Internet! Why must they do everything on the Internet?”

A detective investigating the issue stated “that he’s relieved the woman is now safe but that the entire incident serves as a grave reminder of how the Internet can be abused.”

This is a very strange comment.  While it appears at the end of the article, it really frames the whole spin of the story.  With that view in mind, would policy makers, cops and parents actually think that the appropriate action to take if they have a suicidal child is to take away their webcams and internet access?  Is that going to solve the problem?  The idea of treating suicide as a form of stupid misbehaviour is irresponsible and scary.  The decision of this young woman to do what she did does come across as someone just trying to get attention, or hurt someone else, but we don’t know her whole story.  I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by suggesting that MAYBE, just maybe, the girl had some mental health issues, which required treatment.

This morning I was delighted to see that I had received a response, until I actually read the response.  I don’t know why I actually expected to receive a non-automated response.  Below is the response that I received:

”
Dear ———————————-
Thank you for your recent feedback regarding unacceptable customer service from one of our bus drivers.

We regret your unpleasant experience.

Please be assured that every effort is made to ensure our drivers maintain high standards of service quality, to minimize the likelihood of a similar incident being repeated.

We will look into this incident thoroughly.  However we ask for your understanding that, in the interests of privacy, no information about our internal investigation can be shared.

Sincerely,

Customer Relations Department.

This Customer Relations Incident number 185168 has been closed. If you require further assistance, please contact Customer Relations at (604)953-3040.”

I thought “I really doubt that somebody actually read my complaint, which is unfortunate, considering my complaint”.  By the way, I am a smoker, so my complaint to TransLink was not an attempt at anti-smoking rhetoric.

I wrote back to TransLink.  Because the bottom of the e-mail says if I require further assistance that I should call Customer Relations, I don’t expect TransLink to e-mail me back, but it would be nice to receive a response to my response:

”

Hi Customer Relations Department,

Thank you for your response.  Based on your reply, I am under the impression that my feedback was not read, and I have received an automated response.  While I appreciate that confidentiality must be respected, I would like for Translink to confirm that a human actually read my e-mail, and took the issue seriously.

Best regards,

Leora”

Even though the stuff I’ve discussed is a bit annoying, at least TransLink doesn’t suck as much as the TTC.  Having lived in Toronto until I was 22, being at the mercy of the impossibly lousy TTC makes TransLink (and pretty much every other city I’ve visited’s public transit system) seem pretty decent.

[[[[[[A bit of background, for those who do not use TransLink: The UBC Bus Loop is the terminus of many bus routes in Vancouver.  Because of this, buses are often parked at the loop for quite some time  ( approximately 5 - 30 minutes, depending on the time of day). Generally, the buses are parked at the curb during this time, with their doors shut, meaning students/faculty/other passengers have to stand, staring longingly at the bus that mocks them for being stuck outside.

Please keep in mind that from October through March in Vancouver, it basically does not stop raining, and is pretty chilly.  Okay -- it didn't rain the other day.   So picture that it's 9:45 PM at night:  you just missed the 9:43 PM bus, and the next bus isn't going to leave until 10:13 PM.  You're standing outside with a big heavy book bag, while being inundated by what feels like a mild typhoon.  It's not too pleasant, but it's all a part of dealing with Vancouver.

What makes it unpleasant is that the bus you are going to spend the next 28 minutes waiting to board, is parked 20 metres away from you!  The bus driver is on the bus, and perhaps has some sadistic tendencies.   This is not about one particular bus driver; this is about most of them.  Sometimes the bus driver eats a sandwich, or reads a book, or talks on his or her cell phone.

I understand that maybe the bus driver needs to have a few minutes of peace and quiet.  I also understand that maybe the driver is required to do a quick walk-through of the bus to make sure there is no garbage, no vomit and no lost umbrella aboard the bus, and this can't be done while passengers are sitting on the bus.  Still, have some empathy!  Pull the bus up to the curb and let us board it! The bus driver doesn't even need to be on the bus, because TransLink uses a proof of purchase/honour system, and all vehicles are "fare paid zones", which means it is assumed that all passengers have paid.

Adding insult to injury is that the driver for the bus I take home from school, #7212, which leaves the UBC Bus Loop at 10:13 PM on Wednesdays, has a habit of smoking cigarettes inside the bus.  Just inside the bus with the door open, but inside nonetheless.

Without any further ado, my brief letter to TransLink on the matter:]]]]]]]

Date of Incident:            12-02-2009

Time of Incident:            10:05p

Transit Mode:            Bus

Vehicle Number:            7212

Route Number:            25

Stop Number:            59271

During the waiting time, before pulling up to the loading bay to pick up passengers, the bus driver was standing on the step inside the bus and smoking a cigarette.  This is not the first time I have seen the bus driver doing this.  The driver for the #33 bus was standing right outside the bus, chatting with the smoking driver, suggesting that he was not opposed to this behaviour.

To the best of my knowledge, smoking is not permitted aboard TransLink vehicles.  While the door of the bus was open, and the bus driver was blowing the smoke of her cigarette outside, the bus did smell like cigarette smoke.

Furthering the frustration of this ongoing situation is that passengers often wait for upwards of 15 minutes to board a bus, parked mere metres from the stop they are waiting at.  If the bus drivers are going to make us stand outside, late at night, in chilly weather, while staring at the bus we are not permitted to yet board, they could at least be so respectful as to not smoke inside the vehicle.

Thank you.

I had originally sent this to a friend, but then thought I would post this here, too.

1) take the text from a column, ex http://www.thestar.com/news/canada/afghanmission/article/729370–dimanno-disdain-for-u-s-led-to-afghan-torture-fiasco;

2) paste text for Flesh-Kincaid / other readability tests at http://www.online-utility.org/english/readability_test_and_improve.jsp;

3) read analysis and LOL. Last time I tried this out, the grade level was like 4, so the fact that the readability varies so much from column to column is rather telling.

Best: at the bottom of analyses there are suggestions under the heading “List of sentences which we suggest you should consider to rewrite to improve readability of the text :” Effectively, this is a tool that auto-selects the worst parts of Rosie’s writing, and isolates them into tidbits.

Example: “That was the original sin, as has become ever more evident, because Afghanistan is nowhere near ready, all these years on from the 2001 invasion and ouster of the Taliban regime, to administer itself.”

WTF

It’s all relative. So, for example, when I talk about the deaths of people I loved dearly, it’s not awkward, because I think I became disenchanted from the mystical idea of dead people a long time ago…. or something.  Still, there are very few people with whom I can talk about some things, and that is unfortunate.

I was talking to my brother, as I said, and I noticed I had been talking about songs that reminded me of really shitty times in my life.  Like, these are songs I can not and will not listen to.  So, I decided to listen to those songs tonight, and I felt sad and lousy.  I really wanted to feel as awful as I once did. While those songs reminded me of feeling bad, which made me feel bad, it’ll never be like that again.

Example

1) Song one: The Scientest by Coldplay.

A day or two after my dad died, I remember waking up in my old bedroom at my mom’s house.  I used to call that house “my house”, or “my parents’ house”.  At some point I started calling that house “my mom’s house”, and that was strange.  Wasn’t that house still “my house” even though I hadn’t lived there since I was a teenager?  Wasn’t that house still “my parents’ house” even though only one of my parents is still alive?

So I woke up in the bedroom at whatever that house is called.  It was late may, and it may or may not have been a nice day.  I think it was one of those overcast days, but the sun is still bright enough that it’s like the sky is a giant fluorescent light bulb, making you and everything else look ugly, sick and artificial.  My dad had been dead for a short enough time that I didn’t know what was real or what was going on.  People were coming over to the house in droves.  People who never had known me, or hadn’t seen me since I was an infant were there.  Some of the people who showed up didn’t know who I was, so figured I was just as much as a well-wisher as they were: “who is this young girl and why is she here?”

I hated basically everyone who came in through that door.  I hated them for telling me about people they had care about who were dead, and I hated them for wanting to talk to me, or be charitable.

I woke up to the sound of a group of 14 year olds in my brothers room all singing “The Scientest” by Coldplay.  They sang that song over and over.  All I could hear was the cracking voices of 14 year old boys and the shrill voices of 14 year old girls singing “NOOOOBODY SAID IT WAS EASY”, and all I wanted was for the sound to go away, because it was interfering with my personal space.  But those were my brother’s friends, and they were there to support him, so it’s not like I was going to barge in and tell them to shut up.

So I laid in bed, with the door closed, and fell like a prisoner in a cruel sarcophagus that once held my youth, and everything I understood about myself.  I could not go downstairs, because it was full of stupid well-wishers, and I could not escape the sound coming from my brother’s room.  So I stayed there, and listened to the song over and over.

When I hear that song, I feel like shit.

So that had been going on just nicely, and occasionally on Twitter, you would see “#h1n1″ as a trending topic, and that was the end of it.

Now that the vaccine has been released, a major division seems to be arising: people who think that the vaccine is warfare/poisonous/going to cause autism/Gilles-Barre Syndrome/Gulf War Syndrome/neurological diseases/herpes/AIDS/cancer/stupidity/obesity/homosexuality/atheism/terrorism and so on.  The other side is a group of people who are confident that the vaccine is not harmful, and really, really, REALLY wish that people in camp 1 would stop watching Youtube and reading Wikipedia, along with other unverified sources of information, and do some proper research before freaking out.

The problem with the “I trust Youtube more than I trust the a primary source of research” is that, I guess, the underlying opinion is that the data which comes from all the research done on vaccines and diseases is propaganda (unlike the stuff on the internet, saying the vaccine is evil, which isn’t propaganda?), and cannot be trusted.

I think some of this comes from a lack of understanding about just what goes into peer-reviewed research.  It’s not as simple as Grade 10 Biology class.  Okay, here’s a story that I hope won’t get me in trouble:

In Grade 10 Biology, we had to do a project and a lab report where we had two different bean plants growing. One was the control, and the other had to have a variation in the way that it was being grown.  I had two bean plants;  I didn’t care for Biology.  I put the two bean plants in the furnace room under lights with different strengths of light bulbs.  Students were supposed to measure the plants every day or something for like 30 days.  I measured the plants maybe three times during that period.  In the end, I just extrapolated the data and got a 75%.  That was rather dishonest of me.  I had never done anything like that in school before, and I never did again.

So, in that case, I could get away with making up shit about my bean plant and saying “this type of light makes a bean plant grow taller than type B” and it was reasonably accepted.  Had I also talked about how much water I gave the plants (uh.. none?) and taken pictures, maybe I would have even scored an A.

My point is that you can make up that kind of stuff in grade 10 Biology, and it will be accepted by your mentors and peers as truth and as a properly researched job.

In the world of post-doctoral research, not so much.  In a sense, yes; some vaccines are not tested to the same extent as others (seasonal flu vaccines), but health departments spend a great deal of time observing how strains of flu change, and developing vaccines that, based on a significant amount of knowledge, will be effective against the season’s major flus.  These vaccines ARE tested on various cross-sections of the population.  Not just “healthy” people.  People who have had liver transplants, the elderly, and people of all ages.  If you even spend a few minutes using Google Scholar (or your school’s local online database, such as EBSCO), you can find this information easily.

This leads me to another problem: If someone who is skeptical of the vaccine is actually going to go to enough trouble to read up on the research done on these vaccines, they are likely going to have some trouble understanding the language, because it contains a vocabulary familiar to people working in healthcare, as opposed to laypeople.

So what is the best way to dispel the hysteria and the rampant conspiracy theories?  Right now, because of the economy, the wars, and the rise of social media, governments and institutions of authority are in the perfect position to be totally disregarded as truthful.  This gives way to a nice breeding ground for unhealthy skepticism, ignorance, and unfounded statements that will be taken as true.

Some newspapers have invited doctors to answer questions from readers about their concerns regarding the vaccine.  They are able to put the words of these articles into more understandable words.  How effective these doctors are at conveying their take on safety is another story.  Based on comments online, and public polls, it doesn’t look like the public is being convinced; rather, I don’t think the public wants to be convinced.

I guess what we have are two problems:

1) a public who does not want to believe their government, or authority figures;

2) a lack of easily available information, which the average person can understand.

To further #2 — the easily available information doesn’t seem to become available until problem #1 is has already ingrained itself deeply.  At this point, the understandable information doesn’t have the same value.

But is it realistic to have preemptively fear-quelling information, without knowing what people’s fears will be?