Our second World Science Festival event took place on Friday evening at Hunter College (at the Sylvia and Danny Kaye Theatre - Isn't that nice that they are remembered in this way) focused on people who suffer from prosopagnosia - the inability to recognize faces. Both the neurologist Oliver Sacks and the super-realist painter Chuck Close suffer from an extreme form of this disability. In fact, the title of this event - Strangers in the Mirror - comes from Sacks' fairly common experience of failing to recognize himself when he looks in a mirror. Or, in another fascinating case, thinking he saw himself reflected in a window when it was really someone else.
With the always witty Robert Krulwich moderating a conversation between Close and Sacks, we learned that these two very accomplished people sometimes cannot recognize the faces of people with whom they are intimate and that only with repeated encounters can they finally discern with confidence a particular face. In Sacks' case, he also cannot recognize places and before he lived in New York City (where the grid system helps him get around), he often got lost just trying to get home.
As interesting as all of this turned out to be, it was their strategies for compensating for this disability that proved especially intriguing and encouraging. Close, it turns out, while naturally an introvert, makes a special effort to go out a lot and to be with people and to be as open to others and as convivial with them as possible. He has found that the best way for him to be comfortable with others is to actively seek them out and not to let the lack of face or name recognition get in the way of enjoying being with people and getting to know their stories.
Sacks seems much more resigned to living a kind of solitary life. He avoids being with a lot of people, it appears, because the difficulties and embarrassment associated with not being able to recall faces is too painful. He does better with voices, and has found that speaking on the telephone is a kind of compensation for the face recognition problem. He also appears to get a great deal of pleasure from spending time with a very small circle of friends whom he has gotten to know very well.
As Robert Krulwich summed up the evening, both men were pleased to be part of this event to share the phenomenon of prosopagnosia with the general public and thereby to lessen the stigma associated with this condition. All in all, the whole thing was motivated by the admirable and hopeful goal of helping everyone become somewhat more compassionate and understanding about a difficult and complex disability.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
The Perils of Forgoing that Early Morning Ride
Yesterday morning I put off taking my bike ride along the Hudson River until 11 AM, instead of heading out at about 7 or 7:30. Doing so is fraught with peril. Here's why.
First, you have to eat multiple breakfasts. If you wake up at, say, 6:30 and plan to ride at 7, it is good at least to eat a yogurt. But then, if you let too much time go by - more than an hour or two - you really should eat again in order to have enough energy stored for a ride of reasonable length. So you help yourself to a hearty bowl of cereal. But because the New York Times is so interesting still more time passes until it it close to 11 and you realize even more energy food is called for, so you down two handfuls of peanuts and raisins. During all this time, you're also drinking plenty of water and digesting that daily dose of morning prunes, which leads to even more delays and second thoughts. Finally, at about 11 AM, you head out.
Second, by 11 AM, getting to the bike path is complicated by increased traffic. True, the ride or walk to the path is quite short, but weaving among the cars and waiting impatiently for the two or three lights to change that must be adhered to, adds to stress and heightens the sense that the day is getting away from you.
Third, and most obvious of all, by 11 AM, everyone is already out there! Thousands, it seems are walking their dogs, fathers and sons are slowly dragging their baseball gear home, tennis players are rushing to their reserved courts, and multiple groups of thirty-somethings (the twenties are still asleep) enjoy strolling along the shore at a tortoise-like rate as they regale each other with their tales of drinking and carousing from the night before. Worst, are the other bikers. A few are going much too fast, seemingly jeopardizing everyone's well-being, especially mine. But most of the bikers are on rented vehicles and are so slow and lumbering in both directions on paths already clogged with dozens of unmindful pedestrians that you are driven to distraction waiting to find an opening that allows you to get into the clear. Then for a few moments you sit up high on the pedals, churning as fast as you can, until you run into another traffic jam that makes you go through this same infuriating process of waiting and breaking free all over again.
Not ideal conditions for riding, but, you have to admit, there is an underlying joy in the whole experience resulting from the realization that so many people are eager to take advantage of the outdoors and that New York City has shown such good sense in committing itself to creating, maintaining, and even expanding its many beautiful parks.
First, you have to eat multiple breakfasts. If you wake up at, say, 6:30 and plan to ride at 7, it is good at least to eat a yogurt. But then, if you let too much time go by - more than an hour or two - you really should eat again in order to have enough energy stored for a ride of reasonable length. So you help yourself to a hearty bowl of cereal. But because the New York Times is so interesting still more time passes until it it close to 11 and you realize even more energy food is called for, so you down two handfuls of peanuts and raisins. During all this time, you're also drinking plenty of water and digesting that daily dose of morning prunes, which leads to even more delays and second thoughts. Finally, at about 11 AM, you head out.
Second, by 11 AM, getting to the bike path is complicated by increased traffic. True, the ride or walk to the path is quite short, but weaving among the cars and waiting impatiently for the two or three lights to change that must be adhered to, adds to stress and heightens the sense that the day is getting away from you.
Third, and most obvious of all, by 11 AM, everyone is already out there! Thousands, it seems are walking their dogs, fathers and sons are slowly dragging their baseball gear home, tennis players are rushing to their reserved courts, and multiple groups of thirty-somethings (the twenties are still asleep) enjoy strolling along the shore at a tortoise-like rate as they regale each other with their tales of drinking and carousing from the night before. Worst, are the other bikers. A few are going much too fast, seemingly jeopardizing everyone's well-being, especially mine. But most of the bikers are on rented vehicles and are so slow and lumbering in both directions on paths already clogged with dozens of unmindful pedestrians that you are driven to distraction waiting to find an opening that allows you to get into the clear. Then for a few moments you sit up high on the pedals, churning as fast as you can, until you run into another traffic jam that makes you go through this same infuriating process of waiting and breaking free all over again.
Not ideal conditions for riding, but, you have to admit, there is an underlying joy in the whole experience resulting from the realization that so many people are eager to take advantage of the outdoors and that New York City has shown such good sense in committing itself to creating, maintaining, and even expanding its many beautiful parks.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Brutality and the Brain
On Thursday evening we went to a panel discussion sponsored by the World Science Festival (the big science event for ordinary people organized by the physicist Brian Greene) about what is known regarding the links between brain chemistry and the inclination to be violent and the implications for law in society. In sessions like these, we expect to hear about how violent humans are, but these commentators were quite cautious about this. At least one urged us to consider how peaceful we are. He noted "New York City works most of the time in a context that is impossible." Or, as he elaborated, if you subjected any other species to the conditions New Yorkers face every day, you would have chaos and mayhem. So maybe we're doing pretty well. Well, no, not necessarily, another commentator pointed out, as the amount of violence between human subgroups is far greater than with any other species. That is, the human tendency toward mass death and genocide, usually inflicted by the members of an "in-group" on an "out-group," is unheard of anywhere else in the animal world.
One of the themes of this discussion was the tendency of humans to dehumanize other humans, primarily by treating them as lower animals or as objects. When we dehumanize we make it easier to inflict violence on other humans because we come to regard them as "less than human." Even this tendency to dehumanize, however, as one commentator noted, can have an adaptive function. The doctor who must maintain a distance to perform surgery competently, or the military commander who must put aside his affection for his troops and send them into battle knowing that some of them must die are both plausible cases of "constructive dehumanization" (my phrase).
The other issue that was brought up from this discussion was the adaptive function of violence itself - in self-defense, to protect scarce resources, perhaps even to create a balance between population and the means needed to support that population. I understand and appreciate this point, but for me, it should not dominate the conversation about brutality and violence. Trying to understand where unwanted and unwarranted violence comes from (by far, the majority of violence) and what can be done to limit its practice is primary. Unfortunately, surprisingly little was said to shed light on these issues. Perhaps next year.
One of the themes of this discussion was the tendency of humans to dehumanize other humans, primarily by treating them as lower animals or as objects. When we dehumanize we make it easier to inflict violence on other humans because we come to regard them as "less than human." Even this tendency to dehumanize, however, as one commentator noted, can have an adaptive function. The doctor who must maintain a distance to perform surgery competently, or the military commander who must put aside his affection for his troops and send them into battle knowing that some of them must die are both plausible cases of "constructive dehumanization" (my phrase).
The other issue that was brought up from this discussion was the adaptive function of violence itself - in self-defense, to protect scarce resources, perhaps even to create a balance between population and the means needed to support that population. I understand and appreciate this point, but for me, it should not dominate the conversation about brutality and violence. Trying to understand where unwanted and unwarranted violence comes from (by far, the majority of violence) and what can be done to limit its practice is primary. Unfortunately, surprisingly little was said to shed light on these issues. Perhaps next year.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo
I have a recurring case of Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo (BPPV). I can go a year or even more without suffering any of its effects and then wake up one morning and find it difficult to keep my balance. The first time it attacked in the spring of 2005, I was experiencing a tremendous amount of stress and the effects were severe. I could barely stand up. I thought I was having a stroke. My doctor told me in an email I was almost certainly experiencing BPPV. He was right. He prescribed something called Antivert, which it turns out has the same active ingredients as most over the counter motion sickness tablets, and it gradually went away. No one really knows what causes it, something about the crystals in the inner ear loosening and then rattling around until they settle down again. It is not a serious condition and has no worrisome side effects, except, in severe cases, the possibility you will fall down and break a limb. So far, it has never been that bad for me.
On Wednesday morning, I was hit by it again, perhaps for the fifth time since 2005. It wasn't terrible or alarming, the way it was the first time, but when I woke up I realized as I scuttled to the bathroom that I was leaning dangerously to the left. I also felt the slight nausea that usually accompanies the dizziness and is probably the worst part of my version of BPPV. I started taking my motion sickness pills that I now always keep handy, and most of the symptoms dissipated within six hours. Which was great. But BPPV has a lingering effect, with me anyway. I feel a sense of unease that I can't shake easily, and when I bend down or move my head in any unusual way, I can feel just a bit of dizziness start to return. If you have to be sick, it's a good choice, but that sense that it can rear up at any time and throw off your daily routines (such as riding your bike) does leave one feeling unsettled. Oh, well, a continuing pain in my arm, a little BPPV, some accelerating hair loss, if this is what getting older is about, I'll gladly take it, at least so far.
On Wednesday morning, I was hit by it again, perhaps for the fifth time since 2005. It wasn't terrible or alarming, the way it was the first time, but when I woke up I realized as I scuttled to the bathroom that I was leaning dangerously to the left. I also felt the slight nausea that usually accompanies the dizziness and is probably the worst part of my version of BPPV. I started taking my motion sickness pills that I now always keep handy, and most of the symptoms dissipated within six hours. Which was great. But BPPV has a lingering effect, with me anyway. I feel a sense of unease that I can't shake easily, and when I bend down or move my head in any unusual way, I can feel just a bit of dizziness start to return. If you have to be sick, it's a good choice, but that sense that it can rear up at any time and throw off your daily routines (such as riding your bike) does leave one feeling unsettled. Oh, well, a continuing pain in my arm, a little BPPV, some accelerating hair loss, if this is what getting older is about, I'll gladly take it, at least so far.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
National Arts Club
For the third time this year, I spent an evening at the National Arts Club, a charming 19th century brownstone that sits across the street from one of the few private parks in New York City - Gramercy Park. The National Arts Club, which is now exclusive and private, claims its mission is to "stimulate, foster, and promote public interest in the arts and to educate the American people in the fine arts." No doubt true, especially in the past, but today it seems to me to be a place mainly designed to cater to the rich, the privileged, and the well connected. You must be nominated by a member to join, go through a rather elaborate selection process, and pay an exorbitant fee just to be able to eat at their fancy club. Incidentally, The National Arts Club was formerly the residence of Samuel J. Tilden, the reforming New Yorker, who lost his bid for the presidency in 1876 to placate the South and thereby end Reconstruction.
There is something peaceful and secluded about the area where the National Arts Club is situated. It is a real throwback to a more sedate and simple time. And even though many of the residences have been thoroughly renovated, it feels old and venerable. A good New York place to visit briefly, but hardly worth an extended stay.
There is something peaceful and secluded about the area where the National Arts Club is situated. It is a real throwback to a more sedate and simple time. And even though many of the residences have been thoroughly renovated, it feels old and venerable. A good New York place to visit briefly, but hardly worth an extended stay.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Metropolis
We saw the fully restored version of Fritz Lang's 1927 film "Metropolis" the other day at Film Forum. It has a kind of greatness because of its vision and ambition. This is, after all, a film about a whole society in which the rich, who live in giant skyscrapers, prey on the working poor who live in cave-like residences deep underground the city. These workers who trudge through their long working day as if chained together and with absolutely nothing to live for are far less alive than the robots that the film's evil genius, living in one of those fancy skyscrapers, is trying to create. The plot turns on the actions of the son of the industrial magnate who seems to control the metropolis's entire economy. One day this young man, while in mid-dalliance with a short-skirted playgirl, sees a poor but noble and very beautiful woman with the bedraggled children of the poor. Right then and there he leaves his care-free life of dancing with chorus girls behind to pursue this brave woman underground. He discovers the horrible, inhumane life of the workers and resolves to do something to end their suffering.
A lot happens but hardly any of it is interesting, though it does admittedly happen amid a lot of really creative movie sets, so the design and visual effects are first rate. But somehow it ends with everyone agreeing to work together, including the great magnate who apparently also has second thoughts about what he is doing to destroy people's lives. The moral of the story is that the heart of the mediator, as represented by the son, must unite the head of the magnate with the hands of the workers to bring about peace and prosperity for all. How ridiculous! It really is one of the most overrated films of all time. For those who care about such things, please add your entry for most overrated film below to the ones I have already selected.
Most Overrated Films:
1. Metropolis
2. Citizen Kane (I still love it, but the unending praise is ultimately overdone)
3. Bringing Up Baby (More silly than great)
4. Gone with the Wind (As with Birth of a Nation, the ugly racism overshadows everything else)
5. Annie Hall (Both Manhattan and Stardust Memories are better)
Your Choice______________________________
A lot happens but hardly any of it is interesting, though it does admittedly happen amid a lot of really creative movie sets, so the design and visual effects are first rate. But somehow it ends with everyone agreeing to work together, including the great magnate who apparently also has second thoughts about what he is doing to destroy people's lives. The moral of the story is that the heart of the mediator, as represented by the son, must unite the head of the magnate with the hands of the workers to bring about peace and prosperity for all. How ridiculous! It really is one of the most overrated films of all time. For those who care about such things, please add your entry for most overrated film below to the ones I have already selected.
Most Overrated Films:
1. Metropolis
2. Citizen Kane (I still love it, but the unending praise is ultimately overdone)
3. Bringing Up Baby (More silly than great)
4. Gone with the Wind (As with Birth of a Nation, the ugly racism overshadows everything else)
5. Annie Hall (Both Manhattan and Stardust Memories are better)
Your Choice______________________________
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Duck Soup
Lincoln Center's Walter Reade Theatre is doing a series on American comedy - Slapstick to Stoners (Cheech and Chong are on the program) - and, well, if you're going to do any kind of series on American comedy you have to include "Duck Soup," the greatest comedy by America's greatest trio of comedians (Zeppo doesn't count). What sets Duck Soup apart is that despite the silliness, there is a satire about war underneath its rickety plot structure that is pretty much sustained throughout. When you add in that it's the only Marx Brothers' comedy omitting the inevitable musical interludes by Harpo on the harp and Chico on the piano, you have a comedy that begins at a breakneck speed and never lets up. Furthermore, it has the original mirror sequence in which two of the brothers - Harpo and Chico - are looking at each other through a broken mirror and must anticipate the other's every movement in order to keep up the illusion that each is looking into a mirror. The premise is ridiculous but the comedy is priceless. This sequence was brilliantly adapted, by the way, by Harpo and Lucille Ball when he was a guest star on "I Love Lucy" sometime in the mid-1950s.
The other outstanding sequences of "Duck Soup" include the hysteria that results, led by the brothers, when Freedonia finally decides to go to war with Sylvania (Yup, I said Sylvania), and the long "combat" sequence that concludes the film, in which just about every joke making fun of war is served up. "Duck Soup" is brilliant insanity, but it is also insanity with a purpose that reminds us, however ridiculously, of the enduring absurdity of war.
The other outstanding sequences of "Duck Soup" include the hysteria that results, led by the brothers, when Freedonia finally decides to go to war with Sylvania (Yup, I said Sylvania), and the long "combat" sequence that concludes the film, in which just about every joke making fun of war is served up. "Duck Soup" is brilliant insanity, but it is also insanity with a purpose that reminds us, however ridiculously, of the enduring absurdity of war.
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