In my pursuit of intellectual honesty, I must first make an attempt to think critically (or critically think?).
- Gather complete information, and from more than one source.
- Understand and define terms (make others define terms, too).
- Question the methods by which results were derived.
- Question the conclusion. Do the facts support it? Is there evidence of bias? Remember, correlation does not equal causation.
- Uncover assumptions and biases.
- Question the source of information.
- Don’t expect all the answers.
- Examine the big picture.
- Look for multiple cause and effect.
- Watch for thought stopping sensationalism.
- Understand your own biases and values.
From Human Biology: Health, Homeostasis, and The Environment, 3rd Edition, by Daniel D. Chiras
Watch out world! I might just become smart!
I've ceased trying to be congenial. I've decided it's not worth the effort, to agree with what I don't agree with, complaisant about things that don't make sense to me, obliging about doing things that don't add any value. I refuse to be Miss Congeniality for the sake of being popular and well-liked. Because it breeds a sense in people of they being able to get away with things they shouldn't be allowed to get away with, in my opinion, just because I am good-natured and easy-going.
So, no more going to places I don't want to go, doing things I don't want to do, saying "it's alright" when it's not alright. Just to be slightly more benevolent though, I'll give people three strikes before I threw them out.
I chanced upon this phrase "intelletual honesty" while reading, of all things, a movie review, and was immediately capttivated by a word whose meaning I have absolutely no inkling of. I like "intellectual" and "honesty" as concepts on their own, and I figured that with the two combined together into a separate and absolutely different thing altogether, although I had no idea what it was yet, I liked it already.
Intellectual honesty apparently is an attribute of a good argument. It requires one to be always, constantly and relentlessly questioning's one own assumptions. It requries totally honesty and admitting the weaknesses behind one's arguments, and answering questionings of our beliefs and assumptions without waffling and hiding behind a concoction of truisms and argument fallacies, as well as taking umbrage and offense at every little thing that doesn't agree with one's presuppositions.
Much as I like to believe in the damn thing, complete intellectual honesty can hardly exists since one can hardly entirely master one's own presuppositions. Even if that's possible, we can hardly even be aware of all our presuppositions; we usually overrate our estimations of ourselves don't we?
Still, I like the idea of being intellectually honest. I may not have the intellectual capacity to cogitate and reason and rationalise rigorously and relentlessly, but it is still something I want to work towards. Because I don't think intellectual honesty is an indulgence. It is necessary in one's search for honest truth.
Glee's Hairography episode had all its members, guys included, don long-hair wigs and wiggle their heads to a mash up of Hair, trying desperately to make their hair look sexier than a rival club's hair. There are some things that just cannot be borrowed, and that is somebody else's hair personality. Anyway, they failed miserably. Of course. Not to mention looking hideous in all that hair. Give me Puck's mohawk any day man!
Which brings me to the next point of, what's with this hair competition that's going on with the planet's women? Since when is long hair for a woman considered the be-all and end-all of all things hair? It irritates me to no end, hearing normally sane and sensible women over-react whine about "should I cut my hair", and going all envious and jealous over a friend's daring attempt to cut off her long hair and emerging with a darling chic bob, and then finally sighing and worrying that she won't look half as good with her hair short.
Hair grows! It's not the end of the world for goodness sakes! Why have today's women become all neurotic about hair, and finding their identity and solace in hiding their lack of personality in their so-shiny-and-so-long-it-can-be-used-to-strangle-people hair?
I am going to bring a big scissors with me everywhere I go so that the next time I hear anybody go, "Oh I wish I had the guts to cut my hair short like yours!", I'm going to grant them their wish one way or the other - gut them with the scissor or cut off all their way. I can't wait!
I can't face reality, which is that I have only 2 weeks left to be in full possession of my own time before I relinquish all that to a crazy corporate job. It's funny how I am suddenly feeling pressed for time, to do all the things I would never be able to do once I start work. And all of that I have to squeeze into a 2-week timeframe whilst I had one and a half years to do that previously. I'm just mad it seems.
So now I have a list of at least 10 things I was suppose to try to bake/grill/fry/cook/whatever and at least 5 movies I want to watch including Martin Scorsese's Shutter Island (I still can't pronounce his name!) and Youth in Revolt and Ice Kacang Puppy Love. I'm trying to see whether I can squeeze in 2 dishes and 2 movies a day, which will come up to 28 dishes and movies before work starts. Now where am I going to find 28 movies worth watching?
I've been blogging more recently because more things have been happening recently. By "things", I mean activities that I have to do, and I am not necessarily saying that events that are interesting or memorable or worthwhile or meaningful have taken place. The only reason that I am making that fine distinction is my personal observation that I seems to be able to blog more easily about things rather than interesting, memorable, worthwhile and meaningful events. Funny isn't it. Immortalising banal commonplace episodes instead of life-changing milestones. I really have my priorities mixed up don't I?
Anyway, back to blogging about the things I have to do now that I have found gainful employment and interestingly, they all involve grooming-ish stuff. I now have to do the stuff to project a front that is absolutely not me - the sophisticate and capable career woman mien. (Ha!) So I have to do something to my hair, remove all my eyebrows, and buy all the gunk that is required to look 'presentable' - namely, mascara, foundation, blemish coverage stuff, eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick, blusher, I just need every damn thing they have on the market for the big debut. (Pffftt!). I also have to buy real shoes. (Damn them shoes! I'm going to miss going around shoeless!) I probably also need clothes, the starched and prim and proper kind. No more loose comfy cottony clothes that feels as if one's not wearing anything. Oh, I need to get a proper alarm clock to, to make sure I get up in time for work.
I am getting more depressed by the minute writing this. Now excuse me while I just go and bang my head on the wall a while.
New experiences are suppose to be something we anticipate eagerly for, look forward to, can't wait to happen, and other happy, excited, enthusiastic type feelings.
I know I'm suppose to be excited about a new job. And I normally would be. Even if it may be not what I really wanted in terms of the package and employment terms but still, a new job's a new job, and even with nothing to be excited about, money's always something to feel pleased about. But somehow, I'm not. Not thrilled, not pleased, no not even relieved. Just, not
What the heck's wrong with me? Well, I've got just about 2 weeks to find out. And after that, I'll probably be living the typical office rat lifestyle and once again wishing that I don't have to work like a slave.
Maybe it's such a permanent bug in me that I always want what I don't have?
Weirdo.
There's a movie that's a little of what my secret dream is, which is to be marooned on a secret island. The only problem with 'Lost' is that, to make it more palatable for the mass audiences, it incorporates sex and murder and conspiracy theories and what not into it, just to confuse people into thinking they're having a good time watching people who are stuck on an island.
Of course, my deserted island story would have none of those things. All I need on a deserted island is myself, some really great books, internet connection perhaps, a wee thatched-roof open-aired cottage, and perhaps a boat or a plane at my beck and call. Because really, what else does one need really? (Oh, plus lots of cakes and chocolates.)
They say "no man is an island", and I used to believe that for a while too. But recently, I realize that every man is really alone, just that they surround themselves with work and people and things and activities to feel otherwise. Having someone to share your thoughts and your life and your bed and your long lonely nights with, that's really a bonus.
Oh I'm not being cynical about friendships and romances and relationships. All I'm saying is, if you have somebody, good for you. But my deserted island concept merely means that everybody has to be able to survive on a deserted island, on their own, even if nobody is willing you to accompany you to that deserted piece of land, a lonely spot of something, isolated and determined to make a point in the great big wide ocean of everybody else.
So what is your relationship with people? Can you not survive without them, or can you survive in spite of them, because you yourself are a self-contained and self-sustaining system of hopes and dreams, of integrity and values and standards, which you will stand by come hell or high water.
If you are that, congratulations. If you are able to maintain your standards, and still have friends, I congratulate you even further.
