February, 2008

Three Reflexes of the Human Mind and their Ultimate Consequence

Misconceptions are so very common in today’s society.

Being a perfectionist, I have habitually grown irritated at misconceived notions and their implications; a reflex of the human mind is to remember an idea and regurgitate it without backing such notions with suitable evidence, as if having remembered it confirms it as authentic.  Such ideas, given that they are indeed misconceptions, are painful to bear; another reflex of the human mind is an increasing search and desire for perfection and correctness, and the feeling of understanding that an idea is an misconception is often accompanied by the feeling of irritated chagrin.

The source of such irritation is often not the fact that another is simply misinformed, but it is rather what consequentially occurs from such misinformation – that is, further misconceptions.  A wrong turn while going to your friend’s house will most definitely not take you to the friend’s house – and misconceptions happen to operate in a similar manner.  Consequential misconceptions often rouse the more erudite human mind to exercise the second reflex with a renewed feeling of vexation.

And yet another reflex of the human mind is a powerful urge to correct another, and it is now customary to see a simply more knowledgeable or even more rationally oriented person rightfully correct another, apparently sporting a misconceived notion.  Books entitled “Did You Know…” are as common as encyclopedias; the ever-expressive Internet, where almost no notion has ever united the public, has had numerous people tirelessly correct others in an infinitely diverse environment of giving-and-taking information.

And thus, what is the result?  Combining these three reflexes of the human mind results in a movement – an intellectual movement, so to say.  Correcting misconceptions requires a higher level of thinking, in which one considers the fallacy at hand, identifies its mistakes, and moves to correct them; as this practise of alleviating misinformation becomes more widespread, higher-order thinking – otherwise known as critical thinking or merely “thinking” – becomes a shadow of its former self.  Only years ago, critical thinking was revered as difficult, atypical; now, it has become commonplace, ordinary.  Humankind has conquered such an order of thinking; and thus, what comes next?  Are there higher-order levels of thinking yet to be thought of, or have we all mastered the full capacities of our brains?  I remain inconclusive – although it would be interesting for a form of “third-order thinking” to become apparent and utilisable.

And at the end, the misconceptions still persist.  It is amazing, how such contemplation turns out to be utterly fruitless in a sense.

A Bit of Momentary Wondering

What are the things that are remembered? To be remembered, one must differ from the rest – one must be unique, innovative. One must revolutionise the proceedings of his field of concern to produce a fine imprint of oneself upon the minds of others. The reason why, for example, George Best – a Manchester United legend – is held in higher esteem than Cristiano Ronaldo – a current Manchester United player – and will be for the next twenty years at least is because Best created a new brand of football, something that acts as tutelage of sorts for Ronaldo to follow. No matter who is more skilled, more physically adept, or more technically oriented of the two, it is undoubtedly going to be Best who is well-remembered – not Ronaldo.

What are the things that are “artistic?” For, say for instance, a piece of music to be considered meritorious to the generic critic, what elements must it possess? For example, the majority of critics would crucify Soulja Boy’s newest album as a repetitive stitching-up of sections of one song, while the Beatles are the paradigm of rock for a variety of reasons.  What, namely, is the difference?  Again, it must be different, away from the motifs of its predecessors and thriving upon the imaginations of the artist; however, a completely radical work is unlikely to gain much approval. One must achieve a balance of tradition and creativity. This balance tends to tilt continuously in the direction so that tradition becomes a greater majority over time. This is because of the fact that in the beginning, one must have created some sort of starting point, a point from which sprouts new subcategorical entities, all of which possess a certain amount of tradition that its roots did not have for influence.

Just another thing to think about.