Radical Transparency

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imagination

January 07, 2009

Imagination and Geography

In Scotland, the legendary revolutionary leader was seven feet tall, "and, if he were here, he'd consume the English with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his arse."

In Southern Sudan, the legendary revolutionary leader was nine feet tall and "built like a rhino."

Worth considering.
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December 09, 2008

Ilnumerate Barbarians

My dad asked me to ask the internets if R.I.P. stood for requiescat in pace or requiescat in pacem. 

The results of my Latin-illiterate but highly scientific research were not overwhelmingly conclusive, but I saw enough to feel confident betting on pace.

But now I'm wondering what to make of this line, which I found when I clicked on a link that appeared - thanks to an overaggressive imagination that leapt at an unintentional pump fake from a Google search result metatag - to be a pace vs pacem argument:

A wise friend once explained to me that there are two types of people in this world: those who know Greek and barbarians.

A. I'm pretty sure that's a joke, but I also don't think jokes like that are 100% un-serious.  And, given even the slightest sliver of seriousness, wow is that a bold statement.

2. My dad does know Greek.  Ancient and Modern.  Very well.  Dude came very close to going down a life path toward Ancient Greek Scholar status.  And by life path I mean overgrown rabbit trail that sort of leads in a general direction and might have a fossilized footprint (or skeleton) or two somewhere in the middle of the woods.  The specificity of a pursuit like that blows my mind every time I think about it. 

3. My favorite types of people joke came to me through Chris Abani's first TED Talk.  There are three types of people in the world.  Those that can count.  And those that can't.

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December 02, 2008

Secret Flowers

I just read the first chapter of East of Eden again.  Because I couldn't resist.  Too good not to want back in, even if just for a moment.

And, of course, as not so secretly expected, I found something new.

I remember my childhood names for grasses and secret flowers.

I don't have those kinds of memories.  I have snapshots and impressions and a handful of incomplete, skeletal stories, but I don't remember my imagination.  Not as far back as childhood names for grasses anyway.

I can tap imagination memory a little bit in relation to sports and music.  I remember counting down, commentating, and launching three pointers to take playoff games to OT.  I remember walking out on a spotlit stage, long hair swinging, and hearing the crowd explode as I picked up my guitar.

But I think that's where it stops.  Or that's where my access stops.  At the moment anyway.  I do hear faint echoes of crawling around pretending to be animals.  I know stories of my days dressed up as Robin Hood and carrying a quarterstaff.  I can