Tag: writing

The Power to Think

On By Catherine HausteinIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

At the beginning of the semester, I asked students what aspect of writing they thought they needed to work on. Many said VOCABULARY, which was somewhat of a surprise. Or maybe not. We read writing tips from well-known authors and to quote Madeline L’Engle :  “As our vocabulary expands, so does our power to think.”

Vague language conceals. Rich language illuminates. In order to be able to communicate, you need a decent vocabulary. Vague language could convey being unintelligent and not able to grasp nuance. It might be a sign of not knowing as when I used “pretty many” to describe a number and my thesis adviser had a fit. It could be a sign of aphasia, a loss of language due to a brain injury.

 Precise language: It’s the difference between a parrot and a pet. It’s the difference between “they” and local government. Vague language can be used to deceive.

You can see vague language when Supreme Court justices pulled  a fast one when asked about Roe vs Wade. Before confirmation they said everything from “It is an important precedent that’s been reaffirmed many times” to saying that taking a position “would undermine my ability to be impartial.”

Here’s where recent news fits in. In my brief viewing of Turning Point USA, the group used vague language. It is more of a slogan spitter than an honest debater. Here is another person’s encounter with them. From what I gathered, TP is more about zingers and bumper stickers than common ground.  That’s why it is vague.

I was once acquainted with someone who worked for a “think tank” and learned that these debates can be ways to test slogans. They are not always for true debate. “Debaters” search for slogans that require some nuance to refute. Those slogans are the best slogans to use when winning is the objective. To quote Goerge Lakoff “an opponent may be disingenuous if his real goal isn’t what he says his goal is.” This disingenuousness can be infectious. It can teach students bad discussion skills and narcissistic arguing that can disrupt a classroom or even education itself.

There are a few tell-tale signs of narcissistic arguing that we should be aware of if an argumentative group like TP or Moms for Liberty comes to town. (And click this link for more about Moms for Liberty. These moms are mean. So mean they are considered an extremist group.) Keep in mind that antagonism is a narcissist’s tool. Shifting blame and bringing up unrelated topics and prior grievances often dominate. And of course, projecting or accusing others of doing what you’re doing is standard for some. Intentional vague language is a hallmark for narcissists.

Not all speech is quality speech. Some is vague. Some is manipulative. And some is just plain mean. If the purpose of an institution is to educate, then organizations promoting vague speech—which limits our ability to think– and narcissistic antagonism should not be allowed near learners.

Vague is the difference between seeing a show and seeing Rocky Horror Picture Show. I recall working at Pella’s Holland Theater when that movie was shown. Pella citizens, one identifying as a minister, came and told us young kids works there that they were sinners going to hell.  That wouldn’t happen with any show. Or in any town.

Honing language takes practice and education. After my adviser threw up his hands at the vague statement I made, I worked harder to be prepared with accurate and precise information.

Kudos to my students for claiming an education in a world trying to un-educate them. Education is a gift. Illumination is worth more than vagueness. To think for yourself, you first have to think.

The Dark Side Comes for The Moon

On By Catherine HausteinIn Uncategorized2 Comments

The nearly full moon rose like an old friend as I walked my dog last night. When my mom died in October many years ago, it rose in beauty, giving me familiar comfort and ushering me into a new phase of life.

I’ve loved watching the moon since I was a child riding with my grandpa on his tractor. The way it traversed the sky and changed phases delighted me. In fact, I thought the Moon was called the Move and would turn my grampa’s face to see it and say, “Look at the Move!”

I was so curious about what it was made of and if anything alive could be up there. I even had the privilege of watching the Moon landing with Gramps.

If we didn’t have the Moon there’ d be no eclipses, no moon dance, no moon shadow, no moon light sonata, no blue moon, no Dark Side of the Moon.

We’d see weaker tides with their ebb and flow. Marine animals wouldn’t be able to navigate or spawn. Corals wouldn’t reproduce. And what would I decorate my house with if there was no moon?

First Men in the Moon by HG Wells has been a favorite novel of mine, despite having a dearth of female characters. Two English gentlemen find themselves launched to the Moon thanks to a substance that shields their rudimentary travel sphere from gravity. Although implausible, I found this a clever twist but what unfolded on the Moon caught my imagination most strongly because it contains a shred of truth. The two men, one a businessman and one a scientist, encounter both gold and lifeforms. While the scientist wanted to learn more, the businessman schemed exploitation.

If you read reviews of First Men in the Moon the naysayers point out all the ways it’s unrealistic. But Wells got one thing right: Greed is coming for the Moon.

While scientists wring their hands at lost opportunity to study the Moon, the greedy are firing up for a moon-mining race. Yes, companies are salivating at a chance to harvest. The Moon, having once been part of earth, doesn’t have anything the Earth doesn’t but in some cases, the concentration of the materials might make them easier to mine them. As HG Wells predicted, the Moon does have water to provide for all the new exploits and it also has a rare isotope of helium, Helium-3 also designated 3He. This might be useful in providing fusion power, which so far, hasn’t been successfully achieved. After all, we’ve got to power all our AI some way. Why not shoot for the Moon so to speak?  Don’t worry. US companies are already planning to suck off the government to make this happen.

And if we don’t do it, Russia and China will. China’s been to the dark side recently so we in the US are not going to let “safety be the enemy of progress.”

I rue the day when I look up at the Moon and instead of imagining moon-rabbits, handsome men, or werewolves, I see avaricious people making money. What can I do about it? I think I will go on an internet diet and restrict my pointless searches. I’ll try to ignore Alexa  and Siri for several hours a day, even though Alexa has been calling out to me lately in a somewhat creepy way.  Although I hate to admit that Republicans ever had a good idea, my grandson says that since they banned cellphones at school, he’s been reading books again. Maybe if I disengage once a day for 4 hours, I will finally get the next novel done. When it comes to energy gobbling AI powered by elusive fusion, you know what they say: don’t obey in advance.

Seeing and avoiding Peak Conformity

On By Catherine HausteinIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Copilot helps me reach Peak Conformity

Microsoft word has upgraded to include an AI program called Copilot. Since I potentially will be teaching Short Story Writing next fall, I tried it out to see what I’ll be facing.

First, I asked it to write a quirky love scene. I’ve written about writing quirky love scenes vs AI love scenes and an AI bot has stalked my blog.  What I got was nothing like what I might write however, as the characters are too stock and the language too ordinary. However, if it was more developed with sensory details, I’d probably give it a B.  

Here it is:

As if on cue, the AI suggested a love scene set in a bustling coffee shop. She imagined two characters, both engrossed in their books, colliding as they reached for the same caffeine fix. Their eyes met over a spilt latte, and laughter bubbled up despite the mess. He offered to buy her a new drink, and soon they were deep in conversation, discovering a shared love for obscure sci-fi novels and bad puns. By the time their cups were empty, they had planned their first date to a quirky bookstore downtown. It was a charmingly chaotic start, fitting for a pair brought together by a combination of coffee stains and serendipity.

Next, I asked it to complete a scene in the novel I’m working on. I’ve been quite slow about writing this one, Book 2 in a series. I asked it to write about two characters resistant to taking off an article of clothing. The program captured details from the previous scene, in which the main character, Gormley, is sent to work at a fertilizer plant as a clandestine spy.  She meets a worker with his jaw covered and suspects it has much to do with the poison and attempts to get a closer look.

Co-pilot came up with this:

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

“This isn’t about trust,” I sighed, frustrated. “It’s about your health. Isn’t that more important?”

He shook his head stubbornly. “Not if it means exposing myself to you. I’ve got my pride. I won’t compromise my dignity.” 

 It’s stock, uncreative, and clearly favoring the enemies to lovers trope, but it did give me an idea of expanding the scene. Again, it’s sparse, like Hemmingway, and standard but I’ve read things like this. For someone wanting to stay in the “familiar” it’s okay.

Next, I asked it to add humor. Here goes;

He hesitated, then slowly, as if it pained him, he tugged his collar down to reveal his jaw. The sight was shocking. His skin was red and inflamed, with patches of what looked like chemical burns.

I winced, trying to keep my reaction to myself. “That looks serious. How long has it been like this?” I asked, reaching out to examine the area without touching it.

“A few weeks,” he admitted, his voice a mix of embarrassment and defiance. “I thought it would get better on its own.”

“Clearly, it hasn’t,” I said, frowning. “You need more than just salve. This looks like a reaction to something you’re exposed to regularly. Does your work involve handling chemicals without proper protection?”

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, you could say that. But I can’t afford to be picky about jobs.”

“Well, you need to be careful. This could get worse,” I said, my concern evident. “Have you tried using any protective gear?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes, but it gets in the way.”

“Not as much as this,” I pointed out, gesturing to his jaw. “You need to take care of yourself. Your health is more important than any job.”

He sighed, the weight of my words sinking in. “I know, but it’s not that easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” I said softly. “We’ll start with the salve and see if it helps. But you need to promise me you’ll be more cautious. Deal?”

He nodded, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Deal. Thanks for the salve. And for the advice.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, relieved. “Now, let’s get you patched up.”

As I applied the salve to his jaw, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe this was the first step in helping him turn things around. Only time would tell.

I highlighted a part which resembles something I might have written it on my own, minus the part about nodding. Nodding, shrugging, sighing, and smirking are overused gestures, small smiles.  They are, it seems, part of AI writing. 

I asked Copilot to add setting details. It reads as if Copilot has taken in a lot of steam-punk but it does add some vague and foreboding details of setting, which is good. It also adds more head nodding and it is really fixated on the “time will tell” line. In other words, AI brings about a sense of conformity to writing. One problem is, young writers often dwell in the land of conformity as they seek to fit in with their peers. Conformity lessens disagreement, or in the case of an author, lessens the chance of a bad review.  As with Copilot, conformity teaches social expectations.  Conformity can teach social norms. It can lead to a polarized society with an in and an out group, and in the case of Copilot, dampen aesthetics and bring about a certain dullness. Where are the figures of speech? Where is the originality?

We stepped outside the small clinic, the harsh midday sun beating down on us. The air was heavy with the unmistakable odor of chemicals, a constant reminder of the fertilizer plant nearby. The plant’s towering silos and sprawling pipelines dominated the landscape, casting long shadows over the surrounding area.

A group of workers in worn-out overalls and stained gloves trudged by, their faces etched with fatigue. The rhythmic hum of machinery filled the air, punctuated by the occasional hiss of steam or the distant clang of metal.

“You work here, don’t you?” I asked, breaking the silence.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the plant. “Yeah, it’s not the best place, but it’s work. And work is hard to come by these days.”

As he walked away, disappearing into the sea of workers, I hoped he would take the advice to heart. The plant loomed behind him, a symbol of both livelihood and hazard. Only time would tell if he could find a balance between the two.

I fully subscribe to the Edgar Allen Poe school of fiction writing, in which you embrace some strangeness. Fortunately, my genre also embraces strangeness. However, I’m sure I’ve already been reading AI generated content in the news especially when it comes to tips such as how to paint your bathroom.  

We’ve got a saying in analytical chemistry:  an experiment can’t be any better than the sample itself. AI takes samples of writing from on-line content. Meta’s AI has taken two of my novels. For all you thinkers, keep putting out quality thoughts, keep thinking. AI can’t be any better than you are but it can be worse. It can make mistakes and push bad ideas. 

Will the conformity of AI make us all less unique and more dulled? Only time will tell. 

Above: seen in Detroit near Eastern Market

Efficiency vs people and other living things

On By Catherine HausteinIn Uncategorized3 Comments

We’re hearing a lot of hot air about efficiency lately and as a concept, efficiency isn’t all bad.

For example, chemists talk about atom efficiency which compares the atoms in the starting materials with those in the product. If all atoms are used in the product and none are left, the reaction has 100% efficiency. This is a way to assess waste in chemistry.

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When I look for a car, I take fuel efficiency into account. Efficiency is great, isn’t it?

Sometimes it is, but the concept hasn’t always been with us. When and where did this idea come from?

In the 1900s the idea of efficiency, a near worship of it, pervaded society. This idea first came from studies of brewing and of machines. An efficient process lost less heat and did more work. Heat wasn’t lost to the surroundings in an efficient process. For example, an efficient engine got less hot and produces more work. Get your motor running with an efficient engine in 1916.

Thermodynamics began in England with James Joule, the son of a wealthy brewer, who studied thermodynamics but efficiency lurched to life in the juggernaut that was American culture. It even bled into management theory.

Everyone had to work and be useful. The idle rich were a problem. Inefficiency in buildings was a problem. According to literary critic and munitions engineer Hudson Maxim, inefficient prose was a problem as well. Take a look at some of these photos and advertisements.

idle rich

One Grecian urn, two Grecian urns, three Grecian urns and a fountain. The inefficient lives of the idle rich, women in particular, were held in contempt.

house

I grew up learning that Hemingway was a great writer. His prose was so simple and unadorned–just like a punch in the gut. There were characters barely described and given names like “the woman.” He was in a word, efficient. Believe it or not, this whole notion came from science and technology.

Hemingway came about his efficient prose in an honest way. He was a war journalist and telegraphed his stories back to the U.S.. The telegraph coded letters as dots and dashes and each one cost money. And with the advent of photography, people didn’t need or want the long descriptions of scenery that punctuated older fiction. They only needed enough to set the mood and ground the fiction.

Today, the century old efficiency movement is still with us. We are told to want writing to be sleek, like an Apple product. Some publishers even remove the Oxford comma. Professor Cecili Tichi called this new prose “machines made of words,” adopting the phrase from poet William Carlos Williams. The photos I’m using are from her book Shifting Gears.

A book with a label AI-generated content may be incorrect.

I like machines. I get frustrated with rambling and babbling. But sometimes, I want something more delicious. I want the rush of pleasure from abundant words and the keen insights of metaphors and turns of phrase, the dappled light of a brilliant day as was today.

A black and white page of a book AI-generated content may be incorrect.

Forget long, flowery letters. With the invention of the telegraph and telephone, words counted, ten cents for the first ten words and five cents for the next ten words, and communication was instantaneous. People began writing shorter prose as a result of “telegram style.” Today’s text message style is much the same. Write someone a long, embellished text an see how they react. Long sentences aren’t coming back any time soon.

A advertisement for a telephone AI-generated content may be incorrect.

Here’s what the efficiency experts have gotten wrong—not every engineering principal applies to living things. It isn’t efficient to cut back a workforce and make the people left work 120 hours a week at too many tasks.

A person holding a box and pointing at another person AI-generated content may be incorrect.

Above: CEO wants to show he’s doing something efficient so he gets rid of people.

Efficiency can be soul sucking, killing inspiration, and innovation. Over-work goes against the Bible. Inefficiency can be as simple as hanging out, building relationships, looking at the sky and wondering. In other words, it can enhance the workplace and our lives.

Efficiency can be dangerous. As companies pursue profit and efficiency, they lose the ability to adapt to change. An example of this over-efficiency can be seen in the almond industry, concentrated in one area of California, or the corn and eggs industries in the Midwest. And if you haven’t read yet about bananagedon, click this link. Consolidation of sources and lack of diversity (monoculture) leaves the food sources vulnerable to disease, bad weather and other forms of instability. Bananas for example, can no longer reproduce on their own. 

Consolidation, while efficient, gives the few producers the ability to raise prices, even when not necessary. We already have seen covid and bird flu blamed for egg price hikes, as markets shifted and the types of chickens remained the same, making them even more likely to experience epidemics. And we only need to look at the dinosaurs or pandas and their limited diet to see that bigger and more specialized isn’t always better. 

Let’s also considering who is telling us to be efficient. It’s often people who themselves have wasteful private jets, boats, and excessive real estate holdings. Additionally, the release of hot air into the environment is a sign of poor efficiency. It’s where the term for insincere speech comes from. There are a few prominent figures who could take a lesson from efficiency and cool off. All those hot takes aren’t doing any work. 

More importantly, society is not thermodynamics. People and other living things are much more complicated than brewing–even if it does involve yeast. Where is the morality in efficiency? When it comes to people, The Bible warns against haste. Applying STEM principals to every facet of our lives won’t make them better, only more stressful. It might even kill us. So embrace those inefficient moments at times, and don’t take personal advice from the opulent hot air emitters. Chill.