On Monday, I went to a soccer game on campus. It was weird without a section of screaming boys beating an African drum and heckling the other team.
Although there were vuvuzelas.
Blogger doesn't recognize "vuvuzela" as a word.
Anyway. I left a little after the second half started and walked around, trying to associate myself with campus before classes started the next day. It really is as beautiful as everyone says it is. Even to a girl who's used to humidity in 90 degree weather and thinks that anything below 70 is a bit chilly.
I went to the library. The giant building with the mural of "Touchdown Jesus" facing the reflection pool. I just wandered around - wanting at first to find copies of my favorite books, but settling for wandering when I failed to locate anything but reference books.
I found myself in the basement somehow, surrounded by tall shelves - some with mechanical handles that fold them like an accordion to conserve space. When I'd given up on finding anything entertaining, I started to head back. I don't even remember why I stopped, but I did. And, somehow, I found myself in the middle of the medical book section. I remembered seeing the section highlighted on a map somewhere, but I had actually decided against the idea of actively searching for it.
I flipped through a few books. One on the history of thoracic surgery, something on psychology, others on puberty, etc. But then I came across a book entitled Last Resort. And I picked it out. It had a subtitle: Psychosurgery and the Limits of Medicine. Intriguing.
It was about the practice of lobotomies - cutting out a portion of the brain in hopes of fixing something - anything. Katy, stop reading. I scanned the table of contents, then began to read a chapter on how the times have changed and lobotomies are no longer effective. I lost interest quickly. But for some reason, I really wanted to hold on to this book.
So I went back to the beginning, and I read the first chapter, the introduction. It was entitled "A Stab in the Dark". The chapter described a case in 1947 of a thirty-three year old woman who had undergone brain surgery. Any by "brain surgery", I mean the doctor drilled two holes, one on each side of her temples, into her skull. He removed the pieces of bone, and inserted a blunt scalpel into one of the holes. He swept it back and forth, severing some of the tissues that hold the lobes together. Then he repeated it on the other side. If he didn't screw up any major blood vessels, he sewed up the ends of the tissues and stuck the pieces of bone back in. Operation complete.
And do you know why Miss Jane Doe had her brain cut open and stitched back together?
Society deemed her a failure. Her marriage failed and ended in divorce - solid proof that she couldn't fulfill her role in society as a housewife. She, herself, began to believe that she could never function in society the way she was expected to. She grew depressed and developed mental disorders like anxiety and hallucinations. Oh, and she experimented with women a little. Another societal no-no. And so her family committed her to a mental institution. Where she was poked and prodded and treated, to no avail. Now, this is a direct quote from the book: "...these doctors believed that by destroying a portion of [her] brain they might make life for her more bearable as well as transform her into a better person" (Pressman).
Because she didn't already fit into everyone else's idea of what was normal.
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
In a Valiant Effort to Understand
Another one of my favorite obsessions is horror movies - not necessarily watching them, but reading the "spoilers" and descriptions on the Internet. I can't really handle seeing graphic violence on screen, but reading about it is okay (I coincidentally read an article in my mom's old Women's World magazine today about how that works) - example: A Clockwork Orange was wonderful, but don't expect me to see the movie anytime soon. But I do have a kind of intrigue for the stories in slasher films - I think it started with stumbling upon a Wikipedia article depicting all of the different traps from the Saw movies. Mind you, I've only ever actually watched the first movie as the edited version that runs on cable. But I remember thinking how ingenious the traps were; most of them even had a simple way out, if only the victims had calmed down or thought ahead. Even the drive of Jigsaw was clever to me - he threatened people (in, albeit, extreme ways) to show them the worth of their lives. But maybe people just need to be shocked in order to be changed sometimes.
Which brings me to my point: I have nothing but awe and respect for filmmakers that utilize influence over human sensitivity in order to make a point - appealing to their "pathos", if you will (fun fact: "pathos" is Greek for "suffering" or "experience"). And I have even more reverence for the director or writer who can create a story that is equally powerful, but in actuality has left most of the shock to be imagined by the viewer. Another fun fact: the first Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie from the 70s was made with limited sex, violence, and language in hopes of getting a PG rating from the MPAA so that more people would go see it.
Naturally, it's the films that have equal shock value but little gore that I look out for. But in light of today's techonology and desensitivity, mainstream movies like that are rare, and the ones that are given a chance, like Paranormal Activity, are acclaimed (I still can't get over the fact that they made the movie with a budget of like $15,000, and grossed almost $200,000,000). The effect of being exposed to so much violence on people in society is something that has been studied and wondered about for as long as horror movies have been aroud. I came across a list of the "Top Ten Most Controversial Horror Films" in Bloody-Disgusting.com's article, "Culture Shock: The Influence of History on Horror". I found it interesting that the majority of the films on that list weren't the slice-and-dice "horror porn" movies that are popular now, but movies - some of which I hadn't heard of - from the 70s and 80s. Odd, considering what modern movie-making can do today (but, of course, pretty much all ten movies have either already been remade, or is in the process of being redone).
The movie that earned the number one spot was Cannibal Holocaust (1980). It's about an anthropology professor who goes into the Amazon to look for a missing documentary crew. He gets hold of the film that they made before they dissappeared, and goes back to NYU to try to salvage the documentary, only to find that the film reveals what happened to the crew and what they did - basically, it's a "found footage" movie, like Cloverfield, where part of the movie is filmed in a "home video" format for a more realistic feel. But Cannibal Holocaust was so genuinely messed up that the director, Ruggero Deodato, was arrested because viewers truly believed that the footage was real - and that people were really murdered (of course, it didn't help that the actors signed a contract saying they wouldn't appear in other movies for a year to mess with the public, making it look like they were dead). Oh, and they really killed animals! Like, they actually took animals and violently killed them, as opposed to using special effects. Deodato was eventually cleared of the charges after demonstrating to a courtroom how one of the violent scenes was staged. He, as well as the screenwriter, producers, and film studio, was convicted of obscenity and violence. They each received a four-month suspended sentence.
Anyway, other than just being incredibly offensive, the idea of Cannibal Holocaust was the classic Pocahontas moral - that people who are considered "civilized" can be more depraved than indigenous "savages" (and look, Disney proved it with a G-rating and no lawsuits). But the bottom line is that the movie meant something. As did the other controversial movies on the list. I noticed after a while that, while reading the movie synopses, I had the habit of looking for some kind of meaning - some justification, if you will, for all of the violence and controversy. I was judging them by weighing the moral with the content. Most passed, but then I got to thinking about the "horror porn" we have now - Hostel, for example. I don't know about you, but I can remember to not follow strangers without being traumatized, thank you. Then I realized - not all movies have a "hidden meaning" or justification. They're violent for the sake of being violent. It's like people have lost the respect for movie-making, and are taking advantage of society's love for violence in order to make money. But why, for goodness sake, is violence so seductive?
Which brings me to my point: I have nothing but awe and respect for filmmakers that utilize influence over human sensitivity in order to make a point - appealing to their "pathos", if you will (fun fact: "pathos" is Greek for "suffering" or "experience"). And I have even more reverence for the director or writer who can create a story that is equally powerful, but in actuality has left most of the shock to be imagined by the viewer. Another fun fact: the first Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie from the 70s was made with limited sex, violence, and language in hopes of getting a PG rating from the MPAA so that more people would go see it.
Naturally, it's the films that have equal shock value but little gore that I look out for. But in light of today's techonology and desensitivity, mainstream movies like that are rare, and the ones that are given a chance, like Paranormal Activity, are acclaimed (I still can't get over the fact that they made the movie with a budget of like $15,000, and grossed almost $200,000,000). The effect of being exposed to so much violence on people in society is something that has been studied and wondered about for as long as horror movies have been aroud. I came across a list of the "Top Ten Most Controversial Horror Films" in Bloody-Disgusting.com's article, "Culture Shock: The Influence of History on Horror". I found it interesting that the majority of the films on that list weren't the slice-and-dice "horror porn" movies that are popular now, but movies - some of which I hadn't heard of - from the 70s and 80s. Odd, considering what modern movie-making can do today (but, of course, pretty much all ten movies have either already been remade, or is in the process of being redone).
The movie that earned the number one spot was Cannibal Holocaust (1980). It's about an anthropology professor who goes into the Amazon to look for a missing documentary crew. He gets hold of the film that they made before they dissappeared, and goes back to NYU to try to salvage the documentary, only to find that the film reveals what happened to the crew and what they did - basically, it's a "found footage" movie, like Cloverfield, where part of the movie is filmed in a "home video" format for a more realistic feel. But Cannibal Holocaust was so genuinely messed up that the director, Ruggero Deodato, was arrested because viewers truly believed that the footage was real - and that people were really murdered (of course, it didn't help that the actors signed a contract saying they wouldn't appear in other movies for a year to mess with the public, making it look like they were dead). Oh, and they really killed animals! Like, they actually took animals and violently killed them, as opposed to using special effects. Deodato was eventually cleared of the charges after demonstrating to a courtroom how one of the violent scenes was staged. He, as well as the screenwriter, producers, and film studio, was convicted of obscenity and violence. They each received a four-month suspended sentence.
Anyway, other than just being incredibly offensive, the idea of Cannibal Holocaust was the classic Pocahontas moral - that people who are considered "civilized" can be more depraved than indigenous "savages" (and look, Disney proved it with a G-rating and no lawsuits). But the bottom line is that the movie meant something. As did the other controversial movies on the list. I noticed after a while that, while reading the movie synopses, I had the habit of looking for some kind of meaning - some justification, if you will, for all of the violence and controversy. I was judging them by weighing the moral with the content. Most passed, but then I got to thinking about the "horror porn" we have now - Hostel, for example. I don't know about you, but I can remember to not follow strangers without being traumatized, thank you. Then I realized - not all movies have a "hidden meaning" or justification. They're violent for the sake of being violent. It's like people have lost the respect for movie-making, and are taking advantage of society's love for violence in order to make money. But why, for goodness sake, is violence so seductive?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
I've Seen Diamonds Cut Through Harder Men
When I was four or five, I used to spend a lot of time with my dad at Auburn University. I played Disney games on his computer in his office, or I sat in a desk in his classroom and colored while he lectured. I even cleaned the blackboards when I got bored. My dad works on the third floor of Allison Lab. And I would always take the elevator up and down to his office, even though the building only has three stories. (Fun fact: Dr. Fred Allison, of whom the building was named after, is credited with the discovery of the element astatine in 1931 - back when AU was called the Alabama Polytechnic Institute).
For the past few weeks, I've been observing a physics class taught by Dr. Simon. During my down time, I sit in my dad's office like I used to - only now I read Julius Ceasar and A Clockwork Orange (when Shakespeare gets unbearable), as opposed to coloring. Everything about the buildings is the same - from the thin layer of chalk dust that covers pretty much every surface, to the echoey lecture halls in Parker Hall. And one thing in particular that bugs me a little:
Allison Lab has only one women's bathroom in the entire building that's located on the second floor. I vaguely remember always having to go downstairs to get to the bathroom when I was little. But now that I actually stop to think about it - I only know of one female member of the faculty in the physics department. Her name is Yu Lin - I don't remember much about her other than that my dad used to drive her to the airport and that she wears leather skirts, and that she had some medical problem with her neck a while ago. Something about fish. A lack of eating fish.
Anyway. Yu Lin's office is located, of course, on the second floor of Allison. Along with the secretaries and other female employees. So, I wonder: is there really that much of a male prevalence at the university - or the science community in general? And has it been that way for so long that the people who built Allison didn't have reason to build more than one women's bathroom?
Maybe things will be different in ten years - when our generation replaces theirs. But off the record: does anyone know of a girl in our class (or at all) that's majoring in physics? Because I can really only think of Joanna Lucero, that girl from Lindy Focus. And that's not enough.
In other news, I made it through a good part of A Clockwork Orange in my dad's office today. A few points:
1) It's addictive.
2) When I read the first page, I was thrown and confused. I wanted to text Sara and sarcastically ask if any of the words on that first page were real. Anthony Burgess came up with a diction of "teenage slang" that, at first, seems nonsensical. However, after reading more, it's actually pretty amazing how it affects your thinking - you start to piece together what some of the words mean (for example, "sharp" means woman, and "podooshka" is pillow). It's like learning to use context clues all over again. Anyway, chalk it up to one of the random things I get excited over that no one else cares for if you must.
3) Alex DeLarge reminds me of Patrick Bateman from American Psycho - they both have an intense passion for music and equate ultra-violence with their excitement.
4) Why is the Harry Potter series on the Notre Dame reading list under 'fantasy/futuristic novels' and A Clockwork Orange isn't?
For the past few weeks, I've been observing a physics class taught by Dr. Simon. During my down time, I sit in my dad's office like I used to - only now I read Julius Ceasar and A Clockwork Orange (when Shakespeare gets unbearable), as opposed to coloring. Everything about the buildings is the same - from the thin layer of chalk dust that covers pretty much every surface, to the echoey lecture halls in Parker Hall. And one thing in particular that bugs me a little:
Allison Lab has only one women's bathroom in the entire building that's located on the second floor. I vaguely remember always having to go downstairs to get to the bathroom when I was little. But now that I actually stop to think about it - I only know of one female member of the faculty in the physics department. Her name is Yu Lin - I don't remember much about her other than that my dad used to drive her to the airport and that she wears leather skirts, and that she had some medical problem with her neck a while ago. Something about fish. A lack of eating fish.
Anyway. Yu Lin's office is located, of course, on the second floor of Allison. Along with the secretaries and other female employees. So, I wonder: is there really that much of a male prevalence at the university - or the science community in general? And has it been that way for so long that the people who built Allison didn't have reason to build more than one women's bathroom?
Maybe things will be different in ten years - when our generation replaces theirs. But off the record: does anyone know of a girl in our class (or at all) that's majoring in physics? Because I can really only think of Joanna Lucero, that girl from Lindy Focus. And that's not enough.
In other news, I made it through a good part of A Clockwork Orange in my dad's office today. A few points:
1) It's addictive.
2) When I read the first page, I was thrown and confused. I wanted to text Sara and sarcastically ask if any of the words on that first page were real. Anthony Burgess came up with a diction of "teenage slang" that, at first, seems nonsensical. However, after reading more, it's actually pretty amazing how it affects your thinking - you start to piece together what some of the words mean (for example, "sharp" means woman, and "podooshka" is pillow). It's like learning to use context clues all over again. Anyway, chalk it up to one of the random things I get excited over that no one else cares for if you must.
3) Alex DeLarge reminds me of Patrick Bateman from American Psycho - they both have an intense passion for music and equate ultra-violence with their excitement.
4) Why is the Harry Potter series on the Notre Dame reading list under 'fantasy/futuristic novels' and A Clockwork Orange isn't?
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