Who are you?

In continuing along the topic of human behavior, I had a mental discussion with myself today after sitting for hours on desk duty at work (3/4 of a progress report done, and 1 ¼ more to go). After my eyes began to glaze over from the constant review of actions and activities our program has implemented over the past 6 months, I needed a mental break. I decided to take a gander at a website focusing on one of my interests: horoscopes. I know, I know, folks feel like they are some empty, Miss Cleo “call me now” avenues of wasting time and brain cells, but I like them. A good friend of mine is well versed in all the air and water sign lingo, which would be interesting to know one day, but I think I’ll settle for Astrology.com for now. Anyway, I was looking over my Karma sign and a quick write up about my zodiac sign. All of them seem to hit the nail on the head, which obviously piques my interest even more in this topic. Weirdness. It just had me thinking, how are these astrologers able to summarize the behaviors and actions of a entire zodiac clique? What about culture? Ethnicity? Experiences? Influences/personality models? That has to tip the scales somehow. Ultimately as human beings, I think that we tend to believe that we are the ultimate controllers of our own behaviors, personalities, and beliefs, and if we succumb to any one else’s generalization of how we will or are suppose to act, we feel weak, undisciplined, and easy to influence. Hmmm, such a mental conflict. It’s funny, I delved into this mental discussion to break away from having my eyes glaze over from all the data entry I had to do, and the former wound up being more work. Go figure.
So who are you?

Why we do what we do…

Minor spoiler for the Constant Gardner if you haven’t seen it…




Yesterday I watched the Constant Gardner with my mom. Earlier in the semester, some of my classmates had a social outing and caught it together, considering that it’s such a public health movie. To not spoil it too much for folks that haven’t seen it, the backdrop for the film involves the AIDS pandemic in Africa, and how Big Pharma (aka, pharmaceutical companies) take advantage of vulnerable populations – in particular, either testing new products on human beings that do more harm then good, or charging poor people through the nose for products that do work. What the higher ups will do for a buck, eh? In any event, the primary focus of the story is some guy’s undying love for his wife, and his quest to figure out why his wife was murdered. This film had me thinking about a lot of things – how come even after a movie like this has some out, we talk more about how such a great film it is, and not what can we do to put an end to injustices not only around the world, but within our backyards as well; how money and fame can ultimately supersede the ethics and morality of human beings (we’re supposed to live unselfishly, right); but ultimately, why do we as human beings do what we do. In the film, the wife is constantly pushing the issue about the importance of putting an end to the genocide of the Africans, yet the husband barely cares. It’s not his problem so to speak. However, after his wife is murdered, he goes on this fact finding mission to figure out who was responsible for his wife’s death – and if it unearths the untruths and deception that the Big Pharma company has hidden, then that would be an added plus. I wonder, is that a positive of negative outcome? I mean of course it brought into the light perhaps a greater injustice, but if his wife had not been murdered, would he have given a shit? I know I’m going on and on about a partially ficticious scenario, but I have to give some sort of general explanation, as I see this on a constant basis in public health, let alone in my private life. More recently, I sold some raffle tickets to help raise money for the Women’s Cancer Resource Center to raise money for all the great work that they do for so many families that are affected by cancer. They had some really great prizes, but to me, the ultimate gift was supporting the center. However, and acquaintance told me that if she had known what cool prizes were offered, she would have bought a ticket. Way to go eh? I guess I shouldn’t be so critical about the Constant Gardner. I often wonder that if I hadn’t lost 6 family members, and a good friend to this horrible disease, or go through the entire process with one of my best friends (hooray for her 3 years remission!), would I be so passionate about eradicating cancer. I honestly don’t know. One thing that a mentor told me when I was making a decision about my internship this past summer was to pick something that I was extremely passionate about – a topic that pisses me off so much that despite how daunting and overwhelming it may be, that you will never quit on it. I think that’s some pretty sound advice – but I would add that folks should make sure that you are genuine about it, and not only interested in a cause because it can stand to give you a little bit of fame and money. That mindset has never done shit for anybody, and never will.

Dream Weaver...

When I was in 6th grade, our teacher said that we could listen to music while we did in class study, or took tests. At first, we thoughts she was gonna let us listen to KMEL, so we could get to Humpty Dance around the classroom and whatnot… man didn’t our bubble get busted. She would only let us listen to those soft rock stations that would play hits from 70s, 80s, and 90s. It’s funny how we became creatures of our environment. How we had to adapt in order to survive such daunting conditions – which meant abandoning our hip-hop and r&b vibes for something totally different. One of my favorite songs became and still is “Dream Weaver” by Gary Wright.

The fascinating/exhaustive explanation as to why I like this song leads me to this: the interpretation of our dreams. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but every once and I while I have some really fucked up dreams. Last night was one in particular. Had me straight shook. To not go into the gory details, essentially I was being attacked, and everyone that I thought was going to help me stood by idle. I’m telling you, mad weird. The sucky part is that my ass couldn’t wake up for shit. Go figure.

Anyways, for my major, we focused on social theory, and one aspect of a course I took was on the interpretation of dreams. Freud says “that emotions buried in the unconscious surface in disguised form during dreaming, and that the remembered fragments of dreams can help uncover the buried feelings.” He goes on to say “that dreams are wish-fulfillments, and will ultimately argue that those wishes are the result of repressed or frustrated sexual desires. The anxiety surrounding these desires turns some dreams into nightmares.”
Wow. This explains it all and says a lot. I have to do some more research on this, but according Freud, my dreams mean I ain’t getting’ no action. Man, and I was all set to blame it on all that al-kee-hall I consumed on Saturday. Sweet.