Weird social practises: eating

You're not supposed to do obscene things in public - that's what your mother always told you.  At least, you should avoid doing things that are unpleasant for other people to watch, in public. Like dig your nose. Or fart.

So I wonder, why isn't eating gross? If you think about it, eating should gross you out! I mean, who on earth would want to look at someone shove a utensil up his mouth, and chew? It's as bad as poking your finger in your nose and digging around for a booger.

But oh, no, eating is somehow un-gross. People actually make appointments to go and watch each other eat! People find it romantic to go out to dinner together.

At least we don't have to see what's in their mouths.

Beauty ain't perfect

I was discussing the concept of beauty with Jenn the other day, and I realised that I needed to reconceptualise my idea of beauty. My sense of aesthetics has changed these past few years, a new revelation marking each progressive stage.

Initially, I thought that beauty was a series of ideals - the ideal figure, the ideal complexion. Beauty had to be absolutely flawless in every way, or at least, as flawless as it is possible to be in this imperfect world. I could classify very few people under this concept of beauty, and most aren't even alive today. Certainly none of my friends or the people I met everyday qualified as beautiful under this rigid dogma.

Then I began to see beauty in the everyday. Little things, but graceful and wonderful in their way: the cute upturn of nose, or the wonderfully expressive eyes. I started to realise that beauty is diverse. Although I still held onto my own ideals, but I became open to appreciating the deviations, which could be just as beautiful in their way. It was around this time that I began to realise just how beautiful a lot of my friends were.

After talking to Jenn, it dawned on me that beauty wasn't just about the exterior facade. I realised that part of the reason why I found my friends so beautiful was because of their character - their compassion, their honesty, their love - it all shone through on their faces, though perhaps it was not completely apparent to those who did not know them well enough to see it. But perhaps having to make the effort made the beauty all the more rare and beautiful. I realised that you just couldn't simply isolate the physical exterior from the inner one, something I thought it was possible to do all along.

Class act

It's finally dawned on me (I saw dawned on me as opposed to something like hit me because I am rather slow, and I don't think any of my thoughts would move fast enough to hit me) that language is the human way of classifying things. Classifying objects, people, ideas. Everything. We classify to communicate. Golly gee, right now, I am classifying!

It's a rather strange realisation, when you think about it. Everything we are saying is a classification. We understand things only through classification. Definition, explanation, organisation all stem from classification.

You may argue, how can that be? The only way I can reasonably continue my own argument is by defining my concept of classification, which is really just classifying the word using more classifications. Anyway, just for the record, my definition of classifcation is putting everything into some sort of category, or place, such that it will be potentially easier, or more convenient for us to grasp.

Maybe, the reason we will never be able to understand our universe is not because it is inifinite. Or at least, not just because of that. Maybe the reason we won't be able to understand it is because we cannot classify it. Perhaps a better statement might be: maybe the universe isn't meant to be understood. Because to understand it, or at least to understand it in a way in which it is possible for us to share our understanding, we must classify it. And we can't classify it because perhaps the universe just won't fit into our classifications. Just like some organisms won't fit properly into our plant and animal kingdoms, planting a foot into the plant kingdom, and another into the animal kingdom, our universe will never be able to fit nicely in whatever classifications, however evolved they may become, neatly.

It feels weird to think that all this time I've just been classifying...

Poetry without words

We often describe movements, particularly dance movements, that are particularly graceful as poetry in motion.  It's funny how we can grow up hearing and accepting phrases and quotes without really understanding their significance.

For instance, I only really just understood, in one of those 'Aha!' moments, the significance of the statement 'dance is poetry'.

Consider: the only words used in poetry are those which are succinct and eloquent, as well as inspired by life.  In essence, that is what sums up dance.  The movements used in dance are distilled from life.

Some poetry has rhyme and meter, but all poetry has rhythm, as does all dance.

But for all I have said I have not really touched the core similarity between these two. It's almost impossible to describe it, although it's wholly tangible. They both share a similar evanescent quality - performed in an instant, but remembered and immortalised for eternity. They are doses of life, of humanity, concentrated and refined into art.