Shielding with my Arm

A picture from the Summer of ‘06:

Sitting in the cafe, drinking some coffee from China, a fellow sitting next to me was arrested and removed from the building. Apparently, information I gathered from the building security officer assisting the police, who seemed intent on making his reasons heard to the whole cafe–as if to deflect any sympathy for the fellow, he is banned from the building for, among other things in the litany delivered by the assisting building security officer, threatening women officers. Okay, regardless, it was silly to put the man in handcuffs and take him to jail, but whatever.

What I really want to mention is how many people in my view immediately grabbed their phones and started typing out messages. I can only imaging they were updating, tweeting, or something to that effect, the exciting event of their day. Now, call the kettle black, because I am doing the same, but I had not intended to, it was only the reaction from the other customers that spurred me to the keyboard. I was respecting the fellows privacy and trying to ignore the humiliating sermon delivered by the officer.

Regardless of the fellow’s history, at the moment he was just sitting peacefully carrying on a civil conversation with another person. So I am revolted by the behavior of the building security officer, shouting aloud to us, polarizing the room against the fellow, making more of a spectacle than necessary. Then, immediately following this as far as disgust goes, the others in the room, with their cameras set on further humiliation of a person and his situation and their incomplete information.

Diametrically Opposed

Some will conclude that the title of this post concerns the contents of the post, they will claim it is self-evident, but for me it seldom is so black and white, in truth, I know precisely what I am referring too and it will never be conferrable in such an imprecise medium and from such an inherently flawed mind. The title is an explicit reference relevant at only a particular space and time. Only I will know this explicit reference… everyone else will have to speculate.

I am thinking about Art and Science. What traits do they share? What traits distinguish them? I think, in my simplistic view and in as few words as possible, that considering what constitutes each will reveal the answers to these questions:

• What constitutes Science? — observation, hypothesis, test (repeat).
• What constitutes Art? — observation, hypothesis, express (try not to repeat).

What do you think?

Additional ruminations that expound the issue:

• the best Science is: clear, strict, beautiful (mathematically), time-tested
• the best Art is: ambiguous, forgiving, beautiful (subjectively), time-tested

Mathematics is a tool, maybe even a medium.

That’s that, but now let’s wade into how my mind works:

I originally set down these considerations when considering the marriage of Religion and Politics in our contemporary America. I was thinking about the danger of such a close relationship, how alienating it can be for those with different beliefs, views, etc., and I started, in my mind, a revolt against the marriage. I launched into eloquent speeches, in my imaginary world, mind you, about the importances of the separation of church and state, the historical precedent that describes the descents such endeavors can lead to, and, as I am wont to do, I took this fancy to the nth degree by postulating what my detractors might say against me. Despite the obvious and empty claims of un-Americanism, they attacked my support of the marriage of Art and Science, and used it to take apart my arguments for the divorce of Religion and Politics. It was effective and I was normalized and defeated. Naturally, this lead me to reconsider my imaginary support for the marriage of Art and Science, so I started thinking about Art and Science.

Finally

I’ve finally posted all the pictures from my trip to SF… all two weeks later. Hey, leave me alone, I am getting a PhD.

For those familiar with the Mission District, doesn’t this head look like the trees on Mission Street?

Mmm, Rosamunde.