Kujifunza Kiswahili

Many reputable sources claim that in order to learn a language, you must be immersed in it. I agree that it makes sense to surround yourself by speakers of a language in order to learn to think and speak it.

Rosetta Stone takes it one step further. They claim to eliminate the need to learn rules of grammar or vocabulary. "It's just like how you learned as a child!" they claim. This is all fine and dandy. However, after considering the amount of time children spend crying because they cannot communicate clearly, I have decided I would rather learn a language like an adult than like a child. Yes, it may require more work on my part, but at least I will feel in control of my linguistic experience.

Skeptical

I was reading a paper the other day. It was about the importance of being grateful and optimistic. "Research shows that happy, grateful people sleep better, exercise more, report less health complaints and feel all around a better sense of wellbeing," Barley D. Savoring informs us in BYU Wellness.

I have a few questions for Mr. Savoring. One is whether this is a correlative or causative relationship. After all, correlation does not prove causation.

Question number two is whether better health, more sleep, and a greater sense of wellbeing is a cause or effect of more gratitude. Personally, I know I tend to be a lot more inclined to look on the bright side of life when I feel well. I don't know if trying to look on the bright side makes me feel physically better.

And my third question is why his parents named him Barley Savoring. Maybe they really liked beef and barley soup? I admit, it does taste pretty good. I suppose it's quite savory.

Blind

So, I have never been able to visualize things. I don't "see" things in my mind. I can't even "see" red if I think about red. I just don't. I didn't really realize how rare this is until fairly recently, because we rarely question the way our mind works and has always worked since we can remember. Today, however, I read an article in a scientific magazine about somebody who lost his ability to picture things. It apparently is practically unheard of not to have a mind's eye. Here are some of my thoughts on my abnormality.

I thought terms like "visualize the outcome" or "picture his face" or "see yourself in a happy place" were more metaphorical than anything.

I always wondered about those memory devices where you're supposed to come up with a funny picture or imagine yourself walking past each item to help you remember a list. I always thought it would just be more work to remember all the details of the story. For example, this website says "George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Richard Nixon, you could imagine walking up to the door of your location and seeing a dollar bill stuck in the door; when you open the door Jefferson is reclining on the sofa and Nixon is eating out of the refrigerator." Poor grammar aside, I have seen this advice in many places, and it always left me mildly puzzled. Why would I remember a dollar, a sofa, and a refrigerator when I only have to remember Washington, Jefferson, and Nixon?

I can't picture faces. I can recognize faces when I see people or pictures of people, but I cannot call them up in my mind when they're not in front of me. This doesn't mean I've forgotten what you look like or that I don't love you; it means that I do not picture things. My brain does not work in the same way most people's brains work.

I wish I could be in a study and get fame and fortune. Well, to some extent. For privacy reasons, the man who lost his ability to picture things was referred to as MX. And it doesn't mention any money. But whatever. I still want to be in a study.

It's the fuzz!

So, I have never been pulled over while driving and have never gotten a ticket. This may have something to do with the fact that I hardly ever drive, but that's beside the point. My parents also have been members of the ticket-free club for my entire life, as far as I know. In other words, traffic tickets have never played a part in my life.

This all changed when I started dating my current fiance. I can think of five tickets and a strongly worded warning that he has received in the last four months alone. I have been initiated into the world of people who must deal with the police on a fairly regular basis.

The first hint I had that I was entering this world was shortly after we began dating. He told me his registration was expired, and he had been pulled over and had thirty days to fix it. From this gentle hearsay introduction, I gradually became more and more immersed. We were taking pictures on public property when a policeman drove by and yelled through his loudspeaker that we had to move. Immediately. There were more hearsay tickets, and then he received a parking ticket while he was parked outside my apartment. This was the first ticket I had ever seen.

Finally, I received my final initiation. We were driving together when he noticed flashing lights in the rear-view mirror. We pulled over, and the officer told us the brake light was out. "Fix it."
And that was that.

I have yet to experience a speeding ticket firsthand, but hopefully that won't change any time soon. Right, Jonathan?

On Facebook, part two

The new trend in "fan" pages is to require you to become a fan before you can see exactly what it is that you just signed your name to. For example, "I lol'd at how awkward this relationship status update became". Two of my friends became fans, so I clicked the link. There I found information saying that to see the relationship status update that caused thousands of people to lol, I must first become a fan! What to do? Would I, as promised, lol? Would it be a disappointment? Who knows? I caved to the pressure, read the moderately awkward update, and deleted my name from the list of fans. Imagine my surprise later in the day when four or five other fan pages my friends joined had similar instructions. Sorry, fan pages. It's just too much work to join and unjoin. I guess I'll have to live my whole life without knowing what tattoo some guy will regret when he's older or what Megan Fox looked like in high school. Ah, well. As someone wise once said, opportunity is never lost. Someone else will take the ones I miss.

Advice

I have many quirks, one of which is that I absolutely hate giving advice or recommendations. When people ask me what books, music, or restaurants I like, I hedge. I don't want to tell people I like such-and-such because if they read it, listen to it, or go there and have a miserable experience, they will then by association think I am classless, boring, and stupid. Logically, I know this is not true. People have different tastes, and I have never (well, hardly ever) judged anyone because of their recommendations to me. Illogically, I cringe and say that I like things they probably have never heard of.

I also dislike advising people. Who am I to tell them what to do with their life? I don't know all of the circumstances, and if they take my advice and it goes badly, whose fault is it? Not mine, really. But I still feel guilty.

Metacognition

When I was young thinking was one of my favorite activities. I would just sit down and think about anything and everything for hours at a time. I thought about the nature of life, thinking, planes, bugs, science, art, and everything in between. In the process, I came up with some ideas that I have since learned were also thought of by philosophers of the past.
One of my favorite things to think about was the possibility that life is actually only a dream. When you dream, everything seems logical. Furthermore, sometimes I would have dreams about dreaming. So why should my whole life not just be a really long dream? I would wonder what my life would be like if I woke up, and if that life would be a dream also. It turns out a Chinese philosopher named Chuang Tzu had the same idea. Go figure. Another of my hobbies was reading. For years I read at least a novel every day--four of five in the summer. This filled my head with all kinds of interesting ideas and expanded my vocabulary.
In other words, I was an interesting person when I was young. Now I just listen to other people and wonder what happened. When did I stop thinking about interesting things? When did I stop being interesting? How did I end up so mediocre? And why is mediocre spelled that way anyway?