i'm guilty

I find myself making arguments I don't sleep with. I don't do it for the sake of the argument but rather with the intent to break others out of preset modes of thinking.

The problem is I often fail to have that subsequent conversation where I articulate the argument I do sleep with.

With that in mind, viva sincerity.

contextual work

Still, I actually think most of the hard work that needs to be done in the world is contextual work-- convincing people to be kind to one another in spite of their insane ideological perspectives and differences. Attacking the particulars that need fixing as contextually as possible and orienting those who share your views on the particulars towards the change you're trying to create. That's the shortest distance between two points. That means you need to elevate the good examples inside religions along with condemning the violent and fundamentalist aspects.

Human psychology is really odd and religious belief is even more odd. In most cases you're unlikely to change religious beliefs. So the idea is to target those beliefs that most desperately need changing and use all resources at your disposal to do so.

Whitman out of context

I've only really gotten into Whitman recently but that hasn't kept me from taking his lines and using them out of context in the past. Here are the lines I take out of context most.

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

-and-

Births have brought us richness and variety,
And other births will bring us richness and variety.

I do not call one greater and one smaller,
That which fills its period and place is equal to any.

Here they are with context--

51

The past and present wilt--I have fill'd them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

Who has done his day's work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?

Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?

--

44

It is time to explain myself--let us stand up.

What is known I strip away,
I launch all men and women forward with me into the Unknown.

The clock indicates the moment--but what does eternity indicate?

We have thus far exhausted trillions of winters and summers,
There are trillions ahead, and trillions ahead of them.

Births have brought us richness and variety,
And other births will bring us richness and variety.

I do not call one greater and one smaller,
That which fills its period and place is equal to any.

Were mankind murderous or jealous upon you, my brother, my sister?
I am sorry for you, they are not murderous or jealous upon me,
All has been gentle with me, I keep no account with lamentation,
(What have I to do with lamentation?)

I am an acme of things accomplish'd, and I an encloser of things to be.

My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs,
On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between the steps,
All below duly travel'd, and still I mount and mount.

Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me,
Afar down I see the huge first Nothing, I know I was even there,
I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic mist,
And took my time, and took no hurt from the fetid carbon.

Long I was hugg'd close--long and long.

Immense have been the preparations for me,
Faithful and friendly the arms that have help'd me.

Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen,
For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings,
They sent influences to look after what was to hold me.

Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me,
My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay it.

For it the nebula cohered to an orb,
The long slow strata piled to rest it on,
Vast vegetables gave it sustenance,
Monstrous sauroids transported it in their mouths and deposited it
 with care.

All forces have been steadily employ'd to complete and delight me,
Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul.

Walt Whitman "Song of Myself" Leaves of Grass