#benvizy

[benvizy]

The latest episode of Free Association is up. Talking the history of time and some philosophy of time. Check it out o Apple, Spotify, Google, or Stitcher under “Free Association with Ben Vizy” 🎙⏱⏲ #benvizy #freeassociation #time #historyoftime #philosophyoftime #podcasting from #bouldercolorado (at Boulder, Colorado) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvCTgR3HzP7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1r9m39u8omfh7

[benvizy]

The Gilded Iron Fist

Spiritual Tyranny and Filial Mutiny in The Poisonwood Bible

{{ NOTE:  SPOILERS FOR THE POISONWOOD BIBLE }}

Having power over others is a messy and dangerous game.  In Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible, Nathan Price brings his family of five to Africa to join him as he spreads the Word of God, attempting to convert natives in the Congo of 1959.  Through his spiritual authority, he attempts to exercise power over everyone he meets.  As their time in Africa wears on, however, his spiritual authority refuses to take hold in Africa despite his most forceful efforts.  Eventually, this force causes him to lose hold of even the power he weilded over his family.  This journey emphasizes that excessive force can only last until it inevitably backfires.

When the Price family first arrives in Africa, Nathan holds very real power.  He brings his family into an isolated portion of jungle, and he is the only one who can allow them to leave.  As Rachel emphasizes partway through the book, “we could get on that plane tomorrow…if only he would say so” (167).  By possessing the only key out of the Jungle, Nathan places a physical hold on his families potential disobedience.

Though this literal, physical authority is new, Nathan has held an even deeper power over his family since their unit was conceived.  As a minister, Nathan wields the authority of God, a force that is far more difficult to argue than anything mortal.  Whether it is through making his children write pertinent Bible verses as punishment, or simply recalling portions of the Bible to prevent behavior he does not care for, Nathan does not hesitate to remind his family of God’s (read: his) power over their souls.  His wife, Orleanna, describes this power as “full possession of the country once known as Orleanna Wharton” (200), a power that he acquired after their marriage.  Nathan thus holds powerful bargaining tokens—his family’s eternal lives.

The downfall of this tyranny, however, is its rigidity.  When his family finally gets the guts to question their patriarch’s authority, it doesn’t take long for this power to crumble.  As his wife puts it, “his kind will always lose in the end…their mistake is the same:  they stand still, and their stake moves underneath them” (384).  This becomes Nathan’s downfall as well.  After his daughter Leah, previously his most devout follower, sees his African congregation vote him out of the church, she sees he is fallible.  By having the courage to acknowledge that she disagrees with him, she suddenly ceases to believe in his God or his example, freeing her to make her own decisions.

Once a hole is drilled in a tyrant’s foundation, the entire enterprise crumbles.  Leah never returns to her father’s example or his religion.  After being forcefully compelled to live her father’s life, she never wishes to return.  Instead, she encounters Anatole, an old African friend.  The near antithesis of her father, Anatole holds strong convictions, but refuses to push them upon anyone.  He embodies a moral mission, the same concept that brought her father to Africa in the first place.  Unlike her father, however, Anatole does not attempt to force anyone around him to believe in the same mission; rather, he acts according to his own will, attempting to act out his principles as an individual.

After enough time has passed to convince Anatole that Leah truly wishes to be with him, a courtship begins.  This courtship lasts through three children, two continents, and a prison sentence.  Despite these hardships, Leah continues to love Anatole.  His life symbolizes the quest for righteousness that went missing when she lost faith in her father and his god.

Freedom is a powerful force.  Denying someone their freedom can keep them obedient for a time, but a taste of liberty, whether it must be physical, mental, or spiritual, can ruin a master’s power forever.  An open mind is like an open cage—there are some who keep a heavy lock on that cage, lest their bird fly away.  I suppose that’s why some books are banned in the first place—though that is a topic for a future Book Report.  In the meantime, I wish everyone a free mind and a free life, be it now or in the near future.

SAUCE:

Kingsolver, Barbara.  The Poisonwood Bible.  New York, Harper Perennial, 1999.

[benvizy]

Ben Vizy’s Guide to Doing it All

#1:  That Puzzle Prep Mindset

I’m extremely fast at puzzles.

Part of it is because I’ve done so many that I have a good feel for it.  For instance, I have found it’s less effective for me to look at the picture than to look at the actual shape of the pieces—and I have become very adept at sussing out each piece’s shape and what hole it fits into.

One of the biggest reasons I’m good at puzzles, however, is my strategy.

There’s a basic puzzle strategy that most people follow.  The general trend is to flip all the pieces over and look for the edges first.  That’s great, but I take it one step further.  I sort them all by color and section.

The importance of planning ahead was a tactic I learned in Engineering school.  They would ask each team to spend about thirty minutes planning, deciding how you would spend each hour of your time together.  Once you knew what you were planning on getting done, you could finally launch in.

Hardly anybody wanted to do this.  Everyone was interested in getting to the deliverable—and doing that, to most, meant starting on the process immediately.  There was very little trust in the process, and most teams made their plan because it was part of the grade.

Once I let this idea sit with me for a while, however, I learned the wisdom of it.  And I got very fast at doing puzzles.

Separating the pieces always feels like such a drag when I’m going through it.  There’s not much pretty about the piles of pieces I set aside, especially when it’s hard to even tell two similar-looking sections apart.  When I launch into it, however, things just seem to fall into place.  The satisfaction comes after the planning period is over.  It rarely pays off as I’m doing it—it pays off when I get into the nitty gritty, dodging the stress that would have accompanied a table of flipped-over pieces with edges on one side and a colorful stew of chaos on the other.

The same philosophy applies to computer code.  It may take a frustratingly long time to figure out the logic, but once the code is written, the task in question can now be done instantaneously.  At the expense of a few hours or so of organization, the amount of work for a task is cut to a small user input.

This is the sort of philosophy I incorporate into most of what I do.

Anyone who knows me, for instance, has likely been exposed to my weekly planning system.  If you haven’t, here’s a snapshot of the most recent checklist:

This system (though likely baffling to most) helps me visualize all the skills I’m hoping to improve and how far I’ve come in each of them.

One week, my task was to write down everything I have to do to release each podcast I make (and if you haven’t heard the podcast yet, you can check out Free Association on Apple, Google, and Stitcher).  I wrote down all the steps included in inviting the guests, producing the podcast, and publishing it on my blog.  Having the steps written out keeps me from the work of going through my head each time to remember exactly what I have to do to get the podcast released.

My newest endeavor is trying to learn how to organize social media.  I’m working hard to provide relevant and meaningful content consistently and to make it easy for people to find it.  It’s going to happen, but it won’t just happen on it’s own. You better believe I’m going to separate the pieces.  And once I do, the puzzle’s going to come together right before our very eyes.