Tuesday 10 June 2014

IMAGINATION and LIMITS - Part 2

IMAGINATION and LIMITS - Part 2

   I can only guess that when Man first appeared in evolution's scheme-of-all-living-things, that his brain kick-started his imagination, eventually leading him to the present day. Should he have had dreams back then, they were most likely limited by what his days incurred and be of food and fearful predators - two bases which seem to have survived until now.
   Naturally, as his imagination and thinking progressed, and he began creating tools and better skills needed for acquiring food and shelters etc, the limits on his dreamtime would have lifted and allowed for more scope.
   Early Man had nothing except a need to survive, and what set him apart from other species, was the imagination he developed, and with its development, further removal of his limits.
   So let's skip a few years and look at what Man has now, by way of his needs, and the expanding imagination that provides the skills to acquire them.
   In fact, he's acquired EVERYTHING through imagination: food, shelter, language, community and rules. He's maintained the scary predators in the guise of things supernatural, and he's comforted himself about dying by creating an aerial wonderland where he'll float off to and meet up with all of the billions of immortal mortals who preceded him.
   When looking at the supernatural world, which still seems to be evolving, albeit at a much slower pace, and without  any of the first horror that had us gasping and cringing over the last few centuries, I always find temperature and location interesting.
   Very simply put, the cold, stay-indoors climes of far northern Scandanavian countries, provide us with much of its myth/legend/horror tales in a darker, dreamier style. Many almost feel as if they've originated from mid-winter sleepy huddles around indoor fires of log cabins near snowy, dense forests.
   European supernatural and horror, though frightening enough, is somewhat more tempered to acceptable climates,  which is probably one reason why more populations can relate easily to tales from these regions.
   However, jump south to much hotter zones, where life is more extreme (as in opposition to the extreme cold of the far north), and you find voodoo and hoodoo, practices that involve more plants, herbs, body parts and fluids. Generally, bits and pieces easily obtained where no freezing temperatures or excessive clothing are a hindrance.
   There was also the imaginative move in the 17th century, by the Church, to use the scare factor as a means of boosting their flock of believers. This was done with the sudden influx of so-called witches, a contrivance both devious and successful. People were terrified by these women with unknown powers to perform any number of ungodly acts.
   The Church, however, devised ways to deal with them (often fatally), and appear as an all-knowing saviour who could obviously outwit the devil, and offer safe havens for the masses. Results being a rejuvenation of religious bondage.
   How religions came into Man's existence in the first place, is no doubt a  question answered within the complexities of Man's need for a comforting father figure, coupled with an astounding amount of imaginative invention. One point that remains solidly intact, thanks to science, is that Man definitely DID precede all of these spiritual protectors, and therefore, imagination stands alone as the original source.
   It all gets a little murky though, when these belief systems attempt to enter the areas of general, and global, governance. Placing limited dogma atop necessary attendance to planetary crisis issues, is nothing short of dire detrimental ignorance against the care of people it claims to look out for.
   But let's wander away from this oppression.....
   Our world of story telling has grown through time and given us insights to places and legends, and filled every corner of our imaginations. So much so, that as I mentioned at the beginning of Part 1, there's a list of categories by Jessamyn West. In fact, there are even more lists, and the category numbers within the most noted lists, are for 3, 5, 7, 20 and 36. These are recognised as specific areas of storytelling description.
   In themselves, they represent limits of imagination, and should anyone care to know what they are, they're very easily found on Google.
   There are no real surprises by which everyday stories remain popular, outside of the aforementioned myths and legends. Love, adventure, mystery etc, will most likely always attract those opting for an easy read. Others, looking for darker corners, saturate the supernatural areas (and with a very high number of younger readers who are at more inquisitive stages of their lives).
   Further out, we have the science fiction fans. Many of these stories becoming outdated very fast, as science and space exploration gain a stronger foothold on reality with each new discovery.
   Just exactly what this says, is that Man still sets his own limits by whatever stage his imagination has reached.
   It's difficult to know if there'll ever be new categories for our stories to fill, but fortunately, there are people who are aware of another category that has no limits. Anyone can join this group. Simply walk, or ride your bike, out into the country, take your dog for company, and look around at something made up of the million recurring, limitless miracles Nature gives us. Our own miniscule creations, connecting us with galaxies far, far away, in what is our true, science non-fiction, never ending story.

              .........End Part 2........
  

 
  

Sunday 8 June 2014

IMAGINATION and LIMITS - Part 1

IMAGINATION and LIMITS - Part 1

   Since my first blog, 'Toys vs Imagination', I've spent numerous sleepless nights thinking of so many more areas which afford interesting concepts. To me, anyway, and before I continue, please note that all of the following, are my opinions only.
   The one reference I'll make will be to a volunteer librarian, Jessamyn West, who listed seven categories in which all stories fit. I'm leaving them until last, but I mention them now as the categories easily flow into other genres.
   Following toys, I look at technology, which gives us appliances, communicative needs, medical aids and machinery, gadgetry and inclusions within almost every part of our days, from here to outer space. And, of course, in our entertainment.
   If some form of technology doesn't apply, then we can be reached through the verbal, "Well, technically speaking, you.....". There is very little chance of escape.
   The most common we encounter (as long as we're living somewhere that supports technology), are home appliances, computers, phones and entertainment products.
   Many of a household's chores are taken care of by appliances and, as with all technology, they improve over time and we're given more 'spare' time because of them.
   Computers and phones allow for worldwide interactions between people from where you sit and from where you may also have whole entertainment hubs set up. Screens bringing you visuals, buttons supplied to change visuals, someone telling you what's happening in the world, stories on film to satisfy your tastes, sporting coverage to appease your loyalties, lessons in how to cook food that you don't need, and on it goes.
   If these aren't enough, we reach for our electronic games and we begin to meet up with some serious limitations.
   The similarity in between the limits in games and, say, a racing car, isn't quite the same. The designers may have had the imagination to create a body of parts, linked to allow for possible high performances on roads, but to achieve this, a driver uses more skills than brain-only.
   Granted, physical ability IS controlled by a brain, but desired and necessary physical ability is not always within an individual's capability. This may also apply to the car's designer.
   As we've evolved, so too have our needs and therefore, our complications.
   Thankfully, there are still cultures that maintain enough original humanity to seek few, if any, of the daily needs within a so-called 'developed country'.
   Developed into what?
   Into a confusion of needs based on requirements of a societal existence. If you don't have this, or you don't have that, you may be classed as either 'poor' or 'odd'. For (1), being poor is usually only a level as measured against those who have some noticable wealth. To many of the poor, this is an unfairness and/or an affront.
   And (2), being odd is a refusal of a mass to accept a peer as someone who has an imagination geared to 'self' rather than 'herd'. That, more so than unfairness or affront, seems to me to be more a failure of the mass, where the mass has frowned upon an individual that has added a new dimension to his world. The mass appears happiest living in the limits, as set by the technological achievements within their possessions. Their own up-to-now standardized comfort zones. The damning of an individual's imagination is the REAL oddity.
   And so after we all have our appliances and vehicles etc, which save us so much more time than past generations in past centuries seemed to have had, what do we do?
   We create amusement. Or rather, as a society, designers in huge companies invent vast numbers of fun things for us, which more often than not, become international trends. This being helped along via media advertising and encouragement that convinces you that "you really need this in your life".
   Many must-haves are for indoor entertainment, and as populations explode, it seems wise that people are being continually provided with stay-at-home amusements.
   The downside of this, is that general standards of health drop. But not to worry, there are always many entrepreneurs who will build inviting gymnasiums, so you at least excercise a little. And you're told where to find these gyms in advertisements you see while you sit watching your televisions. If you have no inclination or time to visit these sweat factories, you can buy smaller equipment to install in your home
   One way or another, the exercise police will catch you and prick your conscience.
   Apart from any standard games that have been a source of challenges, we have now taken to feeding our levels of competitiveness without having to go out and physically indulge too much with other people.
   We have games. In many, many forms and levels. New games, and new variations of skills needed to play them, continue to flood our lives and whatever form they take to connect us, not many age groups escape.
   We give skills-needed toys or 'activity centres' to very young babies, and proceed from there.
   And so to our games.....: nicely entertained, in-house contained, we're fed our amusement needs, and we seem happy to accept being amused by other peoples' imaginations. We don't often seem to question that OUR imagination level has been limited. We're happy to give ourselves to an outside controller, and we stretch our finances to ensure we aren't left out of any circle of global population trying to reach that latest 'high score'.
   A top gamer will never be as good as the person(s) who created the game.
   It surprises me a little that avid players would always be willing to be no higher than 2nd place, at best.

                  ....end Part 1.....

Monday 2 June 2014

DONALD - Part 2

DONALD - Part 2

   Donald continued to thrive over the next two weeks, and took it upon himself to be overseer of any orphaned nestling that I brought in. He visited every one and would stand close to them and exchange a few vocal noises, neither of which would understand, but the comforting reassurance conveyed, was accepted by all.
   He had gained extra privileges as he was an 'introduced' species. An exotic. A feral pigeon. He didn't come under the wildlife carers' licensing rules of the protected native animals/birds. Many carers wouldn't have kept him, but I was interested in learning as much as I could about any bird species, and I was willing to keep him until a suitable release site was found.
   As with any young chicks, I was careful not to imprint on or tame him, both being detrimental to their chances for survival in the wild.
   During week three, Donald feathered nicely and mastered walking, with the addition of jumping and getting stuck in hard-to-reach places. Generally though, he developed a definite independence and a complete aversion to anything relating to a routine...such as settling down at night. I didn't really mind anything he did though, as the important thing was that he'd survived.
   Near the end of that week, I had a call from another carer.
   "I've got a present for you," she said, in a tone we used for each other when one of us had a nestling that could be matched with any the other had in care. "I found a pigeon nestling at the shops. People were nearly stepping on him. Do you want to put him with Donald?"
   She didn't have to ask again, I had an hour before next feed time and I headed over to her house. An hour later I was back home, carrying in the new arrival as a surprise for Donald.
   There isn't much room in wildlife caring for sentiment, but if anything ever deserved being labelled "love at first sight", it was when Donald set his eyes on Mickey. Both chicks seemed to bond then and there, and the still-so-very-young Donald became full time guardian of the quiet, gentle newcomer.
   What also happened from that meeting, was that the ONLY time I could approach  Mickey, was if I was carrying food for him. They were both dependent on me for that, neither yet self-feeding. Mickey also hadn't shown much sign of being active, but as his appetite was good, I wasn't too concerned.
   They spent all of their days together, and anytime I was near them, outside of feed times, Donald would stand as tall as he could, and flap one of wings at me, in a direct warning to "back off". And so I would, and continued to respect this gesture until they were both ready to move into my large, flight aviary.
   Around the time they were about three months old, Donald gave me the biggest surprise I'd had for some time. "He" laid an egg, and Donald became Donal.
   Twenty four hours later, Mickey laid an egg too, and became Mikki.
   And both girls, in turn, 36 hours respectively, after their first eggs, laid a second.
   I called a pigeon club and was assured this was par for the course. The pigeon adaptation of acting like chickens.
   All went well for a number of weeks. I'd decided to give Donal and Mikki a permanent home, as the only strong colony of pigeons I could find, was also a constant attraction for hawks. And then, another unexpected situation developed, which made my decision not to release the pair, a correct one.
   As weeks passed, the pair fledged, and gained their skills but I noticed an occasional limp in Mikki's walking. As more time passed, her legs began to 'bow', and although she'd learned to fly well, it was on the ground when movements became difficult for her.
   This was a very slow process, but it also provided a reason why she may have been ousted from her nest in those early days.
   "Survival of the fittest", is a reality in the natural world and often, what may seem to us to be cruel, is merely the act of continuing bloodlines in the strongest way possible for a species' survival. And "cruel" is our word imposed on another world's reality. It really shouldn't apply.
   The rejection of newborns or hatchlings happens. And even more astounding, is the ability of parents to KNOW that a newborn or hatchling has a genetic fault, which may not be visible for some time to come. Throughout the years I cared for wildlife, Mikki was by no means the only chick that I received because of this same, unfortunate circumstance.
   Over the next few years, Mikki gradually worsened. She suffered no pain, and was happy being with Donal, and Donal was devoted to her. Until a time when she suddenly seemed to lose enough strength to stand, and I took her inside for what I thought could have been her last days.
   There was a man nearby wanting to re-house some of his pigeons, and I paid him a visit, with the intention of choosing a new friend for Donal. The man had been desperate to find homes for his birds, and I went home that day with four of them, instead of one.
   By some unseen force though, Mikki rallied, and I returned her to Donal and the new friends they'd acquired.
   A few more weeks passed, and Mikki's health failed again. This time she didn't survive. Donal said her goodbye, as many birds do, and also as many birds do, chose a new special friend from amongst the newer arrivals.
   There's really no incentive for looking back, in a bird's world. Understanding death, and accepting it, is a part of life.
   It's just how it is.
                    ______________