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Jack Vincennes
Sep. 4th, 2004 10:20 pmI was never helped by all those tests you take in school to find out whether you're an "aural" or "visual" or "kinesthetic" learner. I process information whatever way it's given to me. Show me something and I can do it. Tell me something and I can do it. Let me feel what you're doing, and I can repeat it.
How I think about what I already know is another matter entirely. I think in hallucinations of abstract shape and movement. Most of these "abstract" shapes are abstract not for lack of detail, but because they stand for something else, something not obviously related. A thought string might go something like: topographical map of Peru, shimmering as it dissolves into Castro's face. Three second film clip from Clash of the Titans. Four red lines hovering over my knee. A balance scale with piles of giant blue pearls, and me moving them back and forth.
Somehow, these represent a complex and well-reasoned argument about why a sudden shift to Communism violates the basic social contract. I suppose they're some kind of unintentional mnemonic device that allows me to organize my points before I put them into words. They're like shortcuts to giant blocks of information or emotional tone that I couldn't manipulate as effectively without these seemingly nonsensical image summaries. I'm not even sure how they work; I just know that I can't think very well with my eyes closed.
Ever since I read this quote about the Russian school siege:
"The whole floor is covered in bodies. There is no ceiling at all. The roof all fell down on the children."
the background of my mind has been looping a single motion that Kevin Spacey makes in L.A. Confidential. The one where he lets himself sag a little against the wall in Matt Reynolds' apartment. It's such a small sag. It's such a little movement. It's such a strange fall that can drop you so far and yet leave you standing up.
How I think about what I already know is another matter entirely. I think in hallucinations of abstract shape and movement. Most of these "abstract" shapes are abstract not for lack of detail, but because they stand for something else, something not obviously related. A thought string might go something like: topographical map of Peru, shimmering as it dissolves into Castro's face. Three second film clip from Clash of the Titans. Four red lines hovering over my knee. A balance scale with piles of giant blue pearls, and me moving them back and forth.
Somehow, these represent a complex and well-reasoned argument about why a sudden shift to Communism violates the basic social contract. I suppose they're some kind of unintentional mnemonic device that allows me to organize my points before I put them into words. They're like shortcuts to giant blocks of information or emotional tone that I couldn't manipulate as effectively without these seemingly nonsensical image summaries. I'm not even sure how they work; I just know that I can't think very well with my eyes closed.
Ever since I read this quote about the Russian school siege:
"The whole floor is covered in bodies. There is no ceiling at all. The roof all fell down on the children."
the background of my mind has been looping a single motion that Kevin Spacey makes in L.A. Confidential. The one where he lets himself sag a little against the wall in Matt Reynolds' apartment. It's such a small sag. It's such a little movement. It's such a strange fall that can drop you so far and yet leave you standing up.
