This Made Me Laugh

Do you ever feel like the computer is taking over your life? You may be right.

On Intelligence

I have just finished "Hjärnrevolutionen; Varför din intelligens påverkar allt du gör - och allt du gör påverkar din intelligens" (= The Brain Revolution; Why your intelligence affects everything you do - and everything you do affects your intelligence) by Johan Norberg. I expected it to be interesting, but reading this made me jump to attention:

"Only about 5 percent of the population has exceptional cognitiv ability. That´s a very small share, but in a population like the Swedish, it´s still about 450.000 people. And that is 450.000 people who, through their ability to handle information and solve problems, are disproportionally well-represented among leaders in their respective fields. They are the people who run politics, economy, unions, media, universities, and organizations. This is probably you and most of the people you know - because most people who select a book of this kind has a cognitive ability above average, and we often hang out with people who are like ourselves." (my own very quick and dirty translation, and my own highlight)

Right.

Talking about IQ and intelligence can be very controversial. There is an implicit brutality in measuring intelligence - we may end up placing people on a scale from good to bad, from valuable to crappy, if we are not very careful. And this goes against what most of us consider decent and ethically sound.

Intelligence is not about knowing lots of stuff. It´s about the ability to learn and solve problems, and there seems to be a consensus on this, at least. But, as Norberg points out, being intelligent is no guarantee that life will turn out well. Many bright kids are, at least in the Swedish school system, held back by a firm resistance to what is sneeringly called "elite classes" and it is actually illegal for a school to only admit bright students, and home schooling is also illegal. Norberg is a liberal debater with right-wing leanings and is, not surprisingly, an advocate for a school system that stimulates scholarly bright children, as well as support those who have other talents. Not that the less academically inclined are the main focus here, this book is an appeal for the "clever" ones. At least in our culture, which is very focused on the group, on homogenity and normality, we want to pretend that all are created equal, that enough money and encouragement will turn anyone into an Einstein or an Olof Palme. Those who don´t agree with Norberg would argue that his society is an unequal society where rich stands against poor, elite stands against, as Basil Faulty would have said, riff-raff.

I find that I partly agree with Norberg, even though he is on the other side of the political spectrum from me. It can be challenging to be a bookish kid in a Swedish school, and no doubt that goes for most school systems where children are taught in groups that are put together on the basis of home adress. But it can be equally challenging to be a slowly developing kid, a functionally challenged kid, a socially troubled kid, whatever. Norbergs bottom line, as I understand it, is that a more intelligent population will create a better future, for themselves as individuals and for society as a whole. And it´s a pretty thought. Perhaps he is right. I would like to think he is, but I have my doubts. Intelligence and goodness do not go hand in hand, at least that is my experience.

He also advises the reader on how to remain intelligent as we age. Not surprisingly, active and curious reading is the Fountain of Youth. And excercise. If you also have the good sense to marry another curious person with whom you can have interesting and stimulating conversation, you have done what you can to stay on top of your game.

Considering that pensions are shrinking and care for the elderly is increasingly difficult to finance, health is probably one´s safest investment, although that´s a conclusion Norberg lets this reader make herself...

A Theory on Creation

I have to share this story with you that I found on this wonderful blog, Fanciful Devices. Enjoy:

The best story from this weekend was when 3yrold Marcela mentioned something about God. To which 6yrold Carlos very sarcastically retorted, "Who doesn't even exist!" 

 

His mom looked just as quizzical as I felt. We're all basically atheists in my family, but she's certainly not teaching it to these little ones, that's not the kind of thing you want them going on about at school. Especially now that Marcela's going to a -very good- Catholic school. "Carlos,"said my sister, "you can really upset people if you say that. They're teaching Marcela about God in school- which is great!"

"So then how did we get here?" asks a suddenly articulate Marcela. Carlos considers.

"Maybe a dinosaur was laying an egg and he laid a human by mistake. Then he laid all the humans."

...

A dinosaur. Laid. A human.

....

And then he laid all the humans.

So there you have a truncated version of human evolution by Carlos Rios Klaus, who is way too logical to believe in God.

A dinosaur. Laid. A human.

Ceremony and Celebration

It has been the yearly Academic Festival at the university, and I was invited to hobnob with the honorary doctors, other illustrious guests, and members of the university staff, being the wife of the Dean of the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences.

When I was very little, we had a neighbour, an octogenarian widow who called herself doktorinnan. That´s the feminine form of doctor, like actress to actor, but I have never heard the form doctoress, or any other feminine variety of doctor. She was not a doctor, her husband had been a doctor. She had been a very successful owner and manager of a large hotel. However, her status was all about her husband´s work and title. Similarly, the wife of a major would be called majorska, a general´s wife would be generalska, and so on, exept in the fields where women actually worked, like teaching and nursing. A teacher´s wife was called just that, a teacher´s wife, while a "teacheress" (lärarinna) was an actual teacher, who happened to be a woman.

These days, neither women nor men measure their status by what their significant other is doing for a living. We are much more individualistic and focus on our own careers or jobs or whatever we choose to do and however we like to define our identities. Still, at times, we are required to do duty as wives and, increasingly, husbands. It can be challenging to go to a function where you know no one, where no one will be particularly interested in who you are or what you do, where you are likely to be not very interested in what the others are and what they do, that will require fancy dress and uncomfortable shoes, long hours without food, long hours eating fancy food served in small portions while listening to long-winded speakers talking about things you have no idea about, trying to make small-talk with strangers you are likely to never see again. And your husband or wife is more or less officially working the entire evening and not particularly focused on your needs.

I know that plenty among the significant others are not particularly amused, and some do eventually refuse to go, or perhaps they will go to the ceremony but skip the dinner, or skip the ceremony and go to the dinner. Some enjoy it, of course. I personally never look forward to it, but I am usually surprised that I´m having as much fun as I´m often actually having. It´s a bit of a lottery who you are going to sit next to, but I have been lucky most years. And the older I get, the more philosophical I become about the slow bits, the dodgy singing, the unsmooth behaviour of some, and my own occasional awkwardness. And these days, I often bump into people I know a little.

This year, one of the Honorary Doctors was a proper celebrity, a Major International Superstar, in fact: Benny Andersson, of ABBA, Chess &cetera-fame. In all the years I have attended, I can not remember the atmosphere having been more charged than this time. My own husband bestowed him with the honors during the ceremony. Personally, I only came within speaking distance very, very briefly twice, barely managed to say hello in a civil manner and say my name, and then was pushed out of the way by all the people wanting to have their piece of him, a look, a chat, an autograph. I find it all baffling, since people of his magnitude, people who have had, in different ways, a profound influence on my life (I know all the songs by heart, as I´m sure you do), make me dumbstruck. He is, of course, very nice, very gracious, very generous. And I imagine even he sometimes cringe about things he said, or failed to say.

Since my husband´s term as dean is up at the New Year, it may be a few years before we get to go again. I am both relieved and a little sorry. I have some great memories, and some interesting experiences. And a few very nice dresses.

Going Shopping

Here is a reading recommendation for you: an article about two guys going book shopping. I don´t much do bookstores anymore, because of my asthma, but I have certainly been exactly where these guys are. But seriously, how many books does it make sense to own? Perhaps it depends on the quality of one´s public library. Mine is excellent.

Favourite quote from this article: 

"you don’t get to be the best-read man in America by giving a damn about someone else’s taste. You buy and read books that entice you for small reasons like a good cover or an intelligent introduction, books that appeal to your eccentricities. You keep as many books as possible nearby because they are in fact the very record of your eccentricities."

I like that. I often sit to table with other enthusiastic readers and they go "have you read this? have you read that?", and more and more, I find that I haven´t read the latest novels, the ones on the best-seller-lists, that everyone reads. And if this used to make me feel embarrassed, it doesn´t any more. The world is full of great books, old and new. The only good reason to read something is that it adds to your own experience or gives you much pleasure. Making book choices to "keep up" is a waste of time. Unless, of course, you are a critic or something like that, and have to read for work. Which is a totally different thing.

I think that generally, one should follow one´s heart. In all matters. 

The Woodland Cemetery

Last weekend we went to Stockholm, to lounge in a great hotel, visit my sister-in-law and her husband at their new apartment (which is stunning), see a show (La Cage aux Folles), and generally just do whatever we wanted.

We slept in Saturday, had breakfast in bed, and watched a documentary about Skogs-kyrkogården, the Woodland Cemetery. It was All Saint´s Day, and they were expecting about 70.000 visitors. We decided to add two to that number, since lighting candles at the cemetery is a tradition we have observed for many years. The Woodland Cemetery is on the Unesco World Heritage list, and I have been wanting to see it for many years. And now it just became the natural thing to do.

The cemetery is very large, and each part has it´s own style of burial.

One corner is for the Catholics. There is also a Jewish Cemetery.

The Chapel of Resurrection, that looks very much like what I imagine a Roman temple would have looked like.

At the other end of this long road, Seven Springs Way, is the hill where we finally lit our candles.

Inside the chapel, designed by Sigurd Lewerentz.

The same architect, Lewerentz, also designed these outhouses, consciously brutalizing the beauty of the chapel.

I couldn´t help wonder what my father-in-law, the mason, would have thought about this.

The tall forrest gives the whole place a cathedral-like atmosphere.

Towards the big Chapel of the Holy Cross and the Crematorium.

Looks like a hobbit´s house.

The Woodland Chapel.

The Chapel of the Holy Cross.

There was some kind of service going on, so we didn´t enter, but it´s always nice to have a reason to return.

The view from the big chapel towards the hill.

The Chapel of Hope. I love how the visiting family mirrors the family depicted on the altar painting.

The benches are angled, so the mourners can sit closer to one another. Talk about attention to detail!

The grave of the head architect, who died from exhaustion only a short time after the consecration ceremony.

 

 

It was a wonderful afternoon, even though the light was bad and there was a hailstorm. We really had this sense of community, and this is what it´s like on most cemeteries in Sweden on All Saint´s Day. We passed the grave of Greta Garbo without seeing it, so that´s one more reason to return. I´d also like to see the cemetery in summer, in full bloom.

Halloween has been a controversial, and commercial, import the last few years, but it´s mostly considered a masquerade party thing for the children. Still, some older folks think kids dressed up as ghouls and skeletons are offensive on a weekend traditionally reserved for stillness, meditation and rememberance. But I suppose times change, and traditions will, too.

All Saints Day

Sometimes you must loose them to realize how much they meant to you.