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Dec. 30th, 2012 10:05 amI have a female friend who's got a classically pretty face. High cheekbones, small mouth, big eyes, large forehead: and sometimes I can make myself stop seeing her as the sum of her features, and notice each element of her face and figure that make her attractive.
Did I mention she's female? If I need to work a little to see past her physical appearance, then I have to wonder what it's like to be seen in the world. Sure, being pretty has its advantages, and from my perspective - as someone who is either oblivious to my own charm, or somewhat ugly- the advantages outweigh the disadvantage. Like being tall has more benefits than liabilities.
What I'm trying to get at here, is that 'good looking' is a construct, it's a judgment and a conclusion that come so naturally, it takes effort to deconstruct it and ask questions about it.
I think my biggest problem around pretty girls is that it intimidates me, and I look for the threat. Pretty girls bullied me in Jr High and I expect them to now. But that's some feminism that I can do right here in the privacy of my own mind.
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Last night I found myself wondering what it must feel like to be ordinary- in my way of thinking. Most of the time, having a mind that thinks fast is a wonderful advantage. In the time I've spent I've seen and read a lot of things and I can remember quite a bit of it. In the privacy of my own mind, I feel quite content with the way my mind works.
But like having a pretty face or figure, a quick mind is not always an advantage.Most of the time, it's like being tall: the advantages outweigh the disadvantages. But there are exceptions that seem important.
(and here's where my tact runs out.Someone whose mind runs at a normal speed, I expect to have little sympathy for my problems. They may be as suspicious of me, as I am of pretty girls.)
Having a quick mind makes me susceptible to paranoia. On a good day I can get a reality check before it gets out of hand- only to notice once again what too many clock cycles can do to me. Overthinking other people's motivations, gives me room to find malice where there is none, invent secrets that don't exist.
Thinking too fast plays havoc with my moods: Out of sync with the rest of the world, I don't often feel the way the people around me feel. I imagine that ordinary people have a connection with humanity that I lack, and though they may process more slowly, they process things in parallel in a way that's alien to me.
(fashion, politics, the moods of the crowd. It probably *works* for an ordinary person to fly by the seat of the pants, trust intuition, and hope for the best.) The world is engineered for people of an IQ of 100, so trying to use such a world sometimes puts me at a disadvantage that's hard to talk about: like the way lefties are supposed to have a higher accident rate than right-handed people.
Sometimes in traffic, I want to change lanes but the other lane is moving too much faster than my own. There's nowhere for me to find a slot to move into. Now imagine that was reversed, and you were moving too *fast* to find a slot. It's a lot harder to slow down one's mind than one's car.
I think having a quick mind makes it harder to settle on what to think about. My train of thought doesn't so much derail, as fail to observe the tracks at all. Yet I get so much satisfaction from my imagination, that real life accomplishments on the ground can't measure up. Maybe it's harder to be happy while smart, and maybe I'm just not very good at it. In any case, it seems elusive.
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I didn't earn my smarts any more than my friend earned her good looks. Sure, she can choose to pay attention to enhancing her assets, the way I could choose to get my thinking approved by a school. The analogy breaks down a bit here, though, because school is to free-thought, what makeup is to a tattoo.
It may feel like playing Berthold to Baron Munchausen- (he's the fast guy who's weighted down with a ball and chain) but I think it would behoove me to spend more time imagining the ordinary.
And all these other people around me that also struggle from too many clock cycles under the hood, I don't see them doing much better than I am for the most part. In a lot of ways, they're less fun to be around than slower thinkers, since they're often as socially clumsy as I am.
Thus the distinction between mere cleverness and actual wisdom. If I were wise, rather than clever, I could use my smarts to work the problem and become happier. Being clever gives me pleasure, but it doesn't make me happy.
Did I mention she's female? If I need to work a little to see past her physical appearance, then I have to wonder what it's like to be seen in the world. Sure, being pretty has its advantages, and from my perspective - as someone who is either oblivious to my own charm, or somewhat ugly- the advantages outweigh the disadvantage. Like being tall has more benefits than liabilities.
What I'm trying to get at here, is that 'good looking' is a construct, it's a judgment and a conclusion that come so naturally, it takes effort to deconstruct it and ask questions about it.
I think my biggest problem around pretty girls is that it intimidates me, and I look for the threat. Pretty girls bullied me in Jr High and I expect them to now. But that's some feminism that I can do right here in the privacy of my own mind.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Last night I found myself wondering what it must feel like to be ordinary- in my way of thinking. Most of the time, having a mind that thinks fast is a wonderful advantage. In the time I've spent I've seen and read a lot of things and I can remember quite a bit of it. In the privacy of my own mind, I feel quite content with the way my mind works.
But like having a pretty face or figure, a quick mind is not always an advantage.Most of the time, it's like being tall: the advantages outweigh the disadvantages. But there are exceptions that seem important.
(and here's where my tact runs out.Someone whose mind runs at a normal speed, I expect to have little sympathy for my problems. They may be as suspicious of me, as I am of pretty girls.)
Having a quick mind makes me susceptible to paranoia. On a good day I can get a reality check before it gets out of hand- only to notice once again what too many clock cycles can do to me. Overthinking other people's motivations, gives me room to find malice where there is none, invent secrets that don't exist.
Thinking too fast plays havoc with my moods: Out of sync with the rest of the world, I don't often feel the way the people around me feel. I imagine that ordinary people have a connection with humanity that I lack, and though they may process more slowly, they process things in parallel in a way that's alien to me.
(fashion, politics, the moods of the crowd. It probably *works* for an ordinary person to fly by the seat of the pants, trust intuition, and hope for the best.) The world is engineered for people of an IQ of 100, so trying to use such a world sometimes puts me at a disadvantage that's hard to talk about: like the way lefties are supposed to have a higher accident rate than right-handed people.
Sometimes in traffic, I want to change lanes but the other lane is moving too much faster than my own. There's nowhere for me to find a slot to move into. Now imagine that was reversed, and you were moving too *fast* to find a slot. It's a lot harder to slow down one's mind than one's car.
I think having a quick mind makes it harder to settle on what to think about. My train of thought doesn't so much derail, as fail to observe the tracks at all. Yet I get so much satisfaction from my imagination, that real life accomplishments on the ground can't measure up. Maybe it's harder to be happy while smart, and maybe I'm just not very good at it. In any case, it seems elusive.
--------------------------------------
I didn't earn my smarts any more than my friend earned her good looks. Sure, she can choose to pay attention to enhancing her assets, the way I could choose to get my thinking approved by a school. The analogy breaks down a bit here, though, because school is to free-thought, what makeup is to a tattoo.
It may feel like playing Berthold to Baron Munchausen- (he's the fast guy who's weighted down with a ball and chain) but I think it would behoove me to spend more time imagining the ordinary.
And all these other people around me that also struggle from too many clock cycles under the hood, I don't see them doing much better than I am for the most part. In a lot of ways, they're less fun to be around than slower thinkers, since they're often as socially clumsy as I am.
Thus the distinction between mere cleverness and actual wisdom. If I were wise, rather than clever, I could use my smarts to work the problem and become happier. Being clever gives me pleasure, but it doesn't make me happy.
