A New Way of Thinking

The article "Is Google Making Us Stupid?" is not what I expected it to be, which was pleasantly surprising. Upon reading the title, I envisioned seven grueling pages of debate regarding whether or not technology has a positive or negative impact on our social skills. It was refreshing to read an essay that concerned itself with, in my opinion, more relevant information and topics for discussion.

Whether it was the sense of my brain being "tinkered" with or the reference to being a "scuba diver in a sea of words", I was able to make many connections throughout the paper. When Carr stated that "Immersing [himself] in a book or lengthy article used to be easy," I knew exactly what he meant. I used to be able to sit and read for hours without feeling restless or embittered by the number of pages until the next chapter and "I feel as if I'm always dragging my wayward brain back to the text." Like Carr, I noticed these changes after I started spending more time on the internet.

Once in a great while, I would read the newspaper, and I would read multiple articles all the way through. Now, I can't remember the last time I read an entire article. I've turned to following various newspapers on social media sites where they provide tidbits of information, so it never takes more than a few minutes to be up to date with what's going on in the world. While I feel like I'm more informed, I don't know what lies beneath the surface. I wonder if I can go back to the way I used to read, instead of skimming "like a guy on a Jet Ski." I don't think I'll be able to, but that doesn't keep me from diving into a good book every now and then.

This is Living?

The stories of Richard Wright learning to survive as an African American in the time of Jim Crow laws astounded, saddened, and frustrated me all at once. I know as well as anyone the anger and violence that plagued the United States during this time in our nation's history, yet it never ceases to amaze me that a human being could bring so much pain and suffering onto another.

Wright's second story stood out to me because it exposed just how deceitful people can really be. In the second story, my stomach churned as Wright described the "shrill screams coming from the rear of the store" and the bloody floor "strewn with wisps of hair and clothing." I couldn't believe how quickly the boss and his son could change from angry animals to something of a friend when Wright entered the room, offering him a cigarette. The last paragraph was unsettling as well; I find it amazing that anyone could say that woman was lucky. No one ever deserves to fall victim to such treatment.

"But the color of a Negro's skin makes him easily recognizable, makes him suspect, converts him into a defenseless target." Wright's fourth story, while one of the shortest, was most moving. It amazes me that a simple situation can quickly turn life threatening. It is even more disheartening to know that similar occurrences happen today.    

The end of Wright's stories do provide a beacon of hope that change is around the corner, however. "A friend of [Wright's] who ran an elevator once told [him]: 'Lawd man! Ef it wuzn't fer them polices 'n' them of lynchmobs, there wouldn't be nothin' but uproar down here!'"

"Nightmare Ballet"

What started as an ordinary day ended unforgotten. "It seemed, at first glance, more curious than horrendous," John Updike wrote of the fall of the World Trade Center twin towers. Many others shared Updike's initial reaction on that fateful day; fascination, confusion, and the gut-wrenching moment when they realized the horror of the situation.

Countless pieces of literature have been written on the events of 9/11, but I have never seen two with such polar opposite tone and views than John Updike and Susan Sontag's works in The New Yorker's "Talk of the Town" section.

Updike's essay portrayed the crumbling of the twin towers as a beautiful nightmare, and yet unbelievably real. My favorite quote from this piece is as follows: "Amid the glittering impassivity of the many buildings across the East River, an empty sot had appeared, as if by electronic command, beneath the sky that, but for the sulfurous cloud streaming south toward the ocean, was pure blue, rendered uncannily pristine by the absence of jet trails." It illustrates a picture as real as any photograph and depicts the horrible beauty of what is missing from the image. Updike used this technique again at the end of the essay when he wrote, "the ruins were still sending out smoke, but New York looked glorious." It is an incredibly positive point that although the United States had just suffered a great tragedy, it would continue to stand strong and be the great country it was meant to be.

Sontag's essay on the other hand was unfortunately very negative. She repeatedly claimed that "the voices licensed to follow the event [seemed] to have joined together in a campaign to infantilize the public." While I don't doubt that the public was initially sheltered from the specific, gruesome details, I feel that at the time people were offered information they needed when it was appropriate. The one part of Sontag's essay that I did find agreeable was the last few lines: "'Our country is strong,' we are told again and again. I for one don't find this entirely consoling. Who doubts that America is strong? But that's not all America has to be," and that's not all America is.