Did go to the last class? Do you intend to reply?

At the start of my last English 203 period, a statement that I feel inclined to mention will become void at 1PM on January the 26th, the professor, or, rather, the man who changes the lighting in the room when appropriate, decided to initiate discussion by being orally silent. Instead of his usual pacing to and fro, his hand to chin and his chin to his chest, he sat at the table in front of the class and communicated through the use of plurk, a Twitter like website derived from the contraction of "people" and "lurk". It was befitting that it was not Twitter, but the tool called plurk, because indeed his point "lurked" about in the shadows for us to jump, point, snatch and pontificate at as we saw fit.

Though one might come to the conclusion that, given 20+ individuals were faced with this unprecedented procedure of opening class discussion, there could be potentially 20+ different reactions. However, to put it briefly, there were only two main varieties of reactions: the silent and the eager. Though the "silent" may have been as silent as the man with the mac, they, like the man with the mac, most likely were not silent in their thoughts. A key difference, however, was that they did not utilize an external tool to voice their opinions. But whatever for? Surely a university class, for which one is paying, would call for the participation by all those present. Thoughts are free to give and to receive and to express them requires little more than lowering the bottom jaw, rounding the lips, and exhaling strategically. Mechanically it is simple, and I can say with confidence everyone in the class, myself included, had mastered at one point in their life the skill of human verbal communication. The catch is those belonging to the silent group were either not comfortable or not enthusiastic. I am of the opinion that if the class had been reduced in its numbers, say one by one removing those belonging to the “eager” category, those belonging to the silent group would have been altered. It might have driven some to speak because of the inevitable vacuum of silence the depleted eager would leave, and for others it may have been that a smaller audience meant an increased bravado for expressing one’s ideas. Whatever may have happened is rather a mute point now, since whatever would have been said indeed never was said and so the thoughts of the silent don’t exist as far as our concerning the 22nd of January.

And of the thoughts of the “eager”? The thoughts of the eager, those which were expressed either verbally or over plurk, may have existed, but will soon fade from memory. Even some of the alphabetic representations of ideas as posted on plurk only came to the attention of all at the mercy of the man with the mac (the very one who normally switches the lights on or off as the situation requires), so that even some of those wishing to play the game may not have been heard (that is, read, through the aid of a costly projector). With the silent having nonexistent ideas and the eager projecting ideas that may never see the light of day or producing sounds to be carried off by the breeze, what really comes from such a social experiment of conducting a discussion both visually and orally? In the opinion of the writer, ideas are powerful things that can act as seeds growing into mighty redwoods while simultaneously instigating countless ripples in the mind. Though much may not have been said or read, chances are the entire class will remember the day that the professor communicated exclusively for a short period through a social networking site.

What this writer is truly trying to get at is that words have the capacity to be very much superfluous, but ideas not so much. Words are thrown around everyday, mostly on the internet where it might be seen by the largest audience, in an attempt to create oneself as oneself wants to be seen in the mind’s eye of others. In class there has been a fair amount of pontificating, but legitimate ideas have been mixed in as well, both serving as an anchor for the speaker to lodge his or herself in the listener’s brain, while at the same time giving his or her idea wings. The ideas that may have been sparked by the professor’s antics are very much real to the individuals who conceived them, and the ideas expressed thereafter may have ignited other flames as well. Most of the class was silent, but their minds probably were not. Though it seemed at the time that only a few people spoke and “played along”, the only thing lost are the exact words that were spoken, and perhaps the people by whom they were spoken by. Words, after all, are only representations of ideas, just as letters represent sound. Ideas, of course, are parasites, and so belong very much to English 203.

Parasites on TV

Admittedly, I did not get Shivers at first. I hate horror movies with a fiery passion, and it was as a horror movie that I approached Shivers. Even after the first day of watching, I went onto Wikipedia to see the summary, so that I knew what to prepare for and hopefully find the point. Wiki didn't really help with the latter, but it was interesting to see that the filmmaker had received a lot of grief over his "indecent" production. After finishing the film, however, I began to possibly see the grain of good that might come from such a film. That is to say, not only are parasites dependant on us for survival, but by extension they're dependant on our interactions with other humans. This is good to know, especially in such a connected society where our value is often measured by our social interactions.

As if interacting with each other wasn't complicated enough, with innumerable unwritten rules that change depending on to whom you are talking, parasites give us to consider exactly what it is we are passing on to others. In the case of Shivers, those infected were driven to spread their "guests" through sexually charged contact, so we also have to be on the watch for what it is we're receiving from our socialization. It would be ideal to be aware of the parasites inside us so that we may protect others, but since it is in the best interest of the parasite to remain unknown to our consciousness, this is not something we can always count on. This, of course, may lead to paranoia in those not infected.

I recently watched an episode of Farscape that focused on a virus that had been brought onto the ship. In brief, the virus would hop from host to host as its only defense, and it could not inhabit the same person twice. If it was allowed to remain in the same host for a certain period of time, then it would incubate and eventually release spores so that all present are infected. The catch is, there is virtually no way of detecting who is containing the virus. The host will act completely normal. The only time when the mind control on the part of the virus is apparent, is when the host has been backed completely into a proverbial a corner, and thus, when the parasite is being directly threatened. The way it can change hosts? Only by direct contact.

Amidst the finger pointing that is sure to follow in the wake of a stealthy, disruptive enemy, the humanoid characters naturally revert to a more "immature" morality in the interest of self preservation. Thusly, not only do parasites feed on us and depend on our own largest key to survival (ie, socialization) to achieve its own purpose in life (to multiply), but in its invisible face the worse is brought out in us, arguably making us less sophisticated than the virus itself. In any case, the virus is much better composed and harmonious with its million parts than we are even in a group as small as a handful.

Could it possibly be, however, that our own tendency to not get along with everyone is a defense mechanism even against viruses? After all, by avoiding certain groups altogether, say certain tribes that have no interest in interacting, then the an epidemic that strikes one may not reach all of humanity. In modern times, but with the internet and our own interweaved existence with every point on the globe, this "negative" aspect of our nature can act in much of a defensive manner, since it is near impossible to isolate ourselves by groups. It seems to be all nothing, be one of the throng or be a hermit, and should it occur when we are struck by paranoia in the face of a virus, what previously may have acted in our defense will not just tear us apart.

These lines of thought deal mainly with a virus or parasite that isn't evident to us, as the greatest threats are sure to be. In Shivers, however, it was quite apparent who was and who wasn't infected, though the infected acted so quickly that it soon didn't matter. In the end, what can we do to thwart the attempts of hostile take over of us and our friends and family? At best I might suggest to be vigilant, but try not to lose sleep. That would weaken the immunity system.

(You may have to turn up the volume)