Keep one point

One of the tenants of Aikido is keep one point. Move, think and be from a central point in one’s person; this is a physical consideration and something that extends beyond. One quickly understands in practice that it’s difficult to throw someone by separately using hands, arms, torso and legs; but if the movement and intent comes combined from one point, the result is fluid. It’s the same with accepting a throw from a partner; if one tumbles through as an assembly of limbs and body, it’s like hitting the mat in pieces.
Of course, one can’t think too much about it or the body does not hear what the mind is saying. It’s difficult to think all the kinetic necessities together. It’s difficult to do something that is beyond doing; it’s a matter of being. There is a risk here of falling into a wash of abstract language that covers over any sensible meaning; I’ve read many descriptions of one point and it’s often difficult to tell if the writer is far beyond us in understanding—or completely full or fooey. But I don’t think it’s a paradox to say this idea is so removed from the physical that it’s the most concrete notion we can experience.

I think this may have saved my life.

In the accident there was one position I could be in to remain uninjured; everything else was a mangle of metal. That point is where I came to rest in the end; inches removed in any direction were steel bars, pipes and the underside of tractor-trailer that had, a split second before, shuttled past my body at high speed. There was no way for me to think myself to a place of safety—no time to consider where to be or what was happening. There was just one point.

It’s synchronicity; I believe there is something in or connected to me that found that place without my conscious participation. There were a series of moments, a succession of otherwise awful consequences that came to one point—life. We talk about how frail life is; yet, despite all the apparent dangers, we are obviously alive more than we experience death. Life and consciousness seem to be our normal state; we are connected moment by moment to that place of safety.

Derivative Originals

I can see who’s visited my site on the ‘management’ side of things and noticed last week that someone from a certain website had trolled through and commented. The site in question advertises a service in which one pays $12.99 and, in return, receives a one hundred percent original term paper on the subject specified. The comment they left (which I’ve since removed) said something like ‘thanks for pulling all this together.’ ‘This’ was the text of my academic papers from grad school I have placed online. Well, you are welcome, obvious shysters; I hope your dunderhead clients are satisfied with the work I’ve ‘pulled together’ for them.
Later I mentioned this to my uncle who is a professor at the local university; he said there is little chance of a plagiarised paper making it through; all papers are submitted electronically and automatically scanned through a system that is also trolling the internet for pre-existing material. This is standard practice for most universities now. Also, I’m rather imagining an American undergraduate student submitting the content of one of my papers as his or her own; the professor might find it remarkable that an erstwhile failing student suddenly writes like a graduate student in his mid-30’s and, as an added bonus, in British English and citation standards.

I would like to note a couple things for anyone who might be tempted by such a service. First, what do you think $12.99 is going to get you? Do you really assume you are paying a competent writer to compose an original term paper (which, if you didn’t know, takes longer than the duration of a feature film to complete!) for the price of a pizza with two toppings? Second, why are you in school? The degree that you hope to obtain (should you avoid all detection of plagiarism) won’t shelter you from your obvious incompetence out in ‘the real world.’ Take the money you are spending on school and go travel, learn about yourself and others instead of wasting it on imaginary un-earned grades. If you are faced with writing a paper and afraid of failure, write it and fail! At least it’s your own experience and you become richer from it (trust me; pertinent side story here).

That said, I do now have the maniacal idea that my theories may find wider acceptance as they permeate through the Academy. (Though I am rather miffed that I’m not getting some of that $12.99 for pizza and movie money.)

Coldplay, Moby, and Jesus

Whilst searching for a scratch track for the video I’m editing I came across a track with these keyword tags:

God love Christian Jesus Christ religious religion saved saviour Our Lord Father in heaven cinematic soundtrack production music sounds like Coldplay Moby Beck Genesis mark hewer film TV score

Five Months

Five months ago, on this day, at this hour, I was in trauma recovery with a doctor picking glass out of my head. The glass was everywhere, in every crevice of my clothing, in every exposed space where glass could fix itself; days later I pulled glass out of my skin. I think there is still glass embedded in my arm. How could such a small car contain so much glass?

Today I drove the same route from Philadelphia to Morgantown, WV; I did not plan this outright but was working in Philly this week and decided to come home today. The skid marks begin to fade at the site of the accident; the memory and sound have not.

During the accident, the one complete thought I had was let me live. I am still sorting out what that means and begin to get a clearer picture. It’s been five months; something more follows. Five months ago today, I nearly died; I did not.

Bose Cold Comfort

About six years ago, I purchased a $300 pair of Bose Quiet Comfort 2 noise-cancelling headphones. I can never sleep on long flights and thought they would help (I’m not keen on noise in general). I’ve been pleased with them; they are not the best headphones ever but they perform as advertised (they allow one to listen to the often lame in-flight movie without cranking the volume up so far that deafness ensues).
Last week, I picked them up (literally, just lifted them off the table) and a small plastic piece that holds the headband split in half. These have been all over the world, but I take good care of things and they’re not abused. The broken piece is put together with screws and looked like it should be a fairly simple repair; so I contacted Bose customer service:

I have a QC2 headset; the plastic piece above the left ear-cup (the piece with the patent information) has just suddenly split in two. Is there a way I can order this as a part or would the whole thing need to be sent in for repair? It looks like it could be user-replaced (however, I suppose the cabling would have to be disconnected somehow in the process).

They replied:

We are sorry to hear about the issue you are experiencing with your Bose® QuietComfort® 2 headphones.

The headphones carry a one-year Limited Warranty when purchased from Bose or an authorized Bose reseller and are not factory or user-serviceable. We would like to assist in providing a solution for you…

I was confused by their response and assumed this was a typo:

...How do you mean that they are neither factory or user serviceable?

So they clarified:

...Thank you for responding with the requested information. As previously mentioned, the headphones carry a one-year Limited Warranty when purchased from Bose or an authorized Bose reseller and are not factory or user-serviceable.

You may trade your QC™2 headphones for a brand new set of QuietComfort 2 headphones for $100 (US dollars) or a brand new set of QuietComfort 3 headphones for $150 (US dollars); state and local taxes may apply. Replacement headphones come with a new one-year warranty.

Yes, according to Bose, there is no way to repair these headphones even though they work as they did when purchased. The only problem is that they won’t stay on my head with the small plastic piece broken. The only option I would have is to bin these and purchase a new pair:

So, thanks for the offer, but I can’t see the sense in tossing out a perfectly functional set of headphones because a small plastic piece failed on them (something seems quite amiss when a product can be repaired but is instead just sent to the rubbish). I will just try to superglue it back together instead. I have a pair of pro Sony headphones with fully replaceable components; why can you not say the same for a pair of headphones that cost three times as much?

I see now, from a quick internet search that this is a common problem with the QC2 (I had assumed this was just a freak failure) and that you have intermittently replaced the faulty product with a new one. I have been very pleased with these headphones and have disputed with several people the stereotype that Bose makes ‘overpriced boutique crap’ as my experience, to this moment, was positive.

They assumed that I was asking for a new pair of headphones to replace my broken pair:

...Now, I understand that $100 is a lot of money for a product that should not have broke. I do feel bad about the situation and want to see if we can keep you as a Bose customer. You have owned them for about 5-6 years according to one of your earlier responses. Is this correct? If so, I would like to pose a question to you. What do you feel would be a fair price to receive a brand new pair of headphones that broke after 5-6 years? Please keep in mind that I can’t give away brand new product for free and we certainly don’t want to devalue the product in any way. After all, we presume that the headphones have given you many years of enjoyment aside from the issue with them at this time. Please let me know what you fee would be a fair price to receive a brand new pair of headphones that broke after 5-6 years if you do not feel that $100 is an acceptable cost to pay for headphones which cost $299.99 and have functioned properly for most of the time you have owned them.

To which I replied:

My point is not that I would expect to receive a new pair of headphones; it is that, having spent $300 on a pair of headphones, I would think it reasonable that minor damage to them would be reparable. You tout your products as premium Hi-Fi gear and should back them as such. The clientele that your marketing targets are a step above the ‘disposable consumer goods’ demographic and expect a bit more return here. We have mechanical cameras that can stay in service beyond our lifetimes and 30 year old stereo gear in good repair. We aren’t expecting a pair of headphones to last forever; but, barring some catastrophic damage, they should last more than five. It’s not a matter of the money per se, it’s just a waste and the whole concept that things are apparently designed without the option of repair (you are, in effect, saying these are $300 dollar disposable headphones; I would challenge you to note this in the marketing that, after the warranty expires, should anything happen to the product, it must be replaced…as a consumer, what would be your response to this?)

So I glued and gaffer taped them back together; we shall see how that holds. We must get beyond this ‘disposable everything’ culture; we can’t afford it (at any level) anymore. This is a shame as I really don’t think that Bose makes ‘overpriced boutique crap’; but, as I said in the e-mail, they have to take this one step further and actually back their products with service.

As a postscript on this, I purchased a pair of Etymotic Research in-ear monitors last year and find they provide better isolation from noise than the Bose (plus they wrap up into the palm, have no batteries, and can be worn on the street).

Seconds

I drove to Philadelphia on Thursday—the first long journey I’ve made since the accident in June (and, of course, along the same route). I had a tense drive through heavy rain, fog and traffic. In Cumberland, just a few miles from where I was hit, I came upon an accident. The police were preparing to re-route traffic and, somehow, I was placed about fifteen feet from the wrecked car; I sat for twenty minutes watching paramedics remove the driver, place her on a stretcher and leave the scene. I sat watching, remembering, feeling for her. I seem to have an audience with these matters; it was not especially disturbing but it does give me more to consider.

Yet all the trucks and their cargo hurry on; we must ship the products from one place to the other. Hurry.

This week I’m making a promotional video for a non-profit here in the city; they’ve historically worked up and down Germantown Ave. I drove down Germantown yesterday into North Philadelphia; I’ve been away for three years and—I’ve been all over the world—the human condition suffers; we have only seconds remaining to consider it. We are in a vehicle about to lose control on a sliding surface.

I’m just not feeling especially hopeful today; I want to be aware of reality and in many ways I am. Is there a threshold that one should not cross or would the world change its spiritual axis if we were all more so? Which way shall we slide?