I can categorize today's Jazz Hands deployment in many ways. I can adhere to one of the established categories clearly defined within the glossary of terms, or possibly make a new category if today's particular hand jazzing warrants a new designation.
I can, but I am not going to. It is second nature to categorize. To compartmentalize to classify to arrange to tie a nice ribbon around so everything fits conveniently in a nice, tidy place.
No two Jazz Hands deployments are the same, they say, just as they say no two snowflakes are the same, begging the unanswerable question, how on earth does anyone know for certain that no two snowflakes are the same? Out of the millions and millions of snowflakes, falling in the same weather pattern, with the same variables and conditions, no two are alike?
Prove it.
The point is that while it is natural to categorize and quantify with rows, columns, kingdoms, phylums and equations, there are those things in this universe that have merit without explanation. There is no equation for aesthetic beauty and there is no scientific process to evaluate and determine the necessary components of cool.
Elements that defy explanation we define and categorize as intangible. Intangibles can not be accounted for. What makes a specific chord progression in a song appealing? What makes a face beautiful? What makes today's Jazz Hands deployment more artistic than yesterday's (inside joke for those really paying attention)? The intangible category is a place where we put those things we can not describe. If you could define the intangible with percentages and processes it would no longer be considered intangible.
Jazz Hands deployments, snowflakes, people...no matter how many intangible qualities they all seem to contain, our tendency is to place them all into categories to help us make sense of this chaotic universe we call home. The thought of no two things being alike seems rather messy, but if it makes you feel more comfortable, there are convenient ways of coping. Snowflakes can be big, small, fluffy or dense. People can be big, small, nice, mean, smart or...dense. Some people get to go to Heaven, some get to go to Hell and some are in limbo and haunt us when it gets dark outside (only when it gets dark outside though, ghosts in the daytime are much less scary and therefor much less likely to be put into the haunting category). Even ghosts, as intangible as they are, can be categorized for our convenience.
As individual and unique as we want to believe we are, no matter how mighty the effort, we all belong to a category, like vacationers at a resort with little numbers on their poolside chairs. To the vacationer, it is a once in a lifetime, one of a kind experience filled with personal reward. To the poolside staff you are merely number thirty-four on level two of the East Deck, on your third round of gin and tonics made with what is supposed to be overpriced, premium liquor but in reality is the cheap, house nonsense, all charged to what is supposed to be number thirty-four's hotel room but is actually getting charged to a random room of number thirty-four's choosing, somewhere else in the hotel (of course we know that isn't true because there is no such thing as "random").
If you choose to defy categorization, there is a category for people that defy categorization. There is no escape.
Is there any possible way to embrace the inevitable categorization we force ourselves into?
If you fall into the defiant category of categorization you will likely have a bitter, dissatisfaction with your uncomfortable life experience and slowly become callous and numb over time. If you fall into the oblivious category of categorization, you become blind to reality, although somewhat more comfortable in general, unenlightened and cluelessly unfulfilled.
To answer the question whether or not we can embrace this categorization, I'll ask a question. Would you rather be unenlightened or calloused?
Today's Jazz Hands are categorically intangible. Day one-hundred complete.
I can, but I am not going to. It is second nature to categorize. To compartmentalize to classify to arrange to tie a nice ribbon around so everything fits conveniently in a nice, tidy place.
No two Jazz Hands deployments are the same, they say, just as they say no two snowflakes are the same, begging the unanswerable question, how on earth does anyone know for certain that no two snowflakes are the same? Out of the millions and millions of snowflakes, falling in the same weather pattern, with the same variables and conditions, no two are alike?
Prove it.
The point is that while it is natural to categorize and quantify with rows, columns, kingdoms, phylums and equations, there are those things in this universe that have merit without explanation. There is no equation for aesthetic beauty and there is no scientific process to evaluate and determine the necessary components of cool.
Elements that defy explanation we define and categorize as intangible. Intangibles can not be accounted for. What makes a specific chord progression in a song appealing? What makes a face beautiful? What makes today's Jazz Hands deployment more artistic than yesterday's (inside joke for those really paying attention)? The intangible category is a place where we put those things we can not describe. If you could define the intangible with percentages and processes it would no longer be considered intangible.
Jazz Hands deployments, snowflakes, people...no matter how many intangible qualities they all seem to contain, our tendency is to place them all into categories to help us make sense of this chaotic universe we call home. The thought of no two things being alike seems rather messy, but if it makes you feel more comfortable, there are convenient ways of coping. Snowflakes can be big, small, fluffy or dense. People can be big, small, nice, mean, smart or...dense. Some people get to go to Heaven, some get to go to Hell and some are in limbo and haunt us when it gets dark outside (only when it gets dark outside though, ghosts in the daytime are much less scary and therefor much less likely to be put into the haunting category). Even ghosts, as intangible as they are, can be categorized for our convenience.
As individual and unique as we want to believe we are, no matter how mighty the effort, we all belong to a category, like vacationers at a resort with little numbers on their poolside chairs. To the vacationer, it is a once in a lifetime, one of a kind experience filled with personal reward. To the poolside staff you are merely number thirty-four on level two of the East Deck, on your third round of gin and tonics made with what is supposed to be overpriced, premium liquor but in reality is the cheap, house nonsense, all charged to what is supposed to be number thirty-four's hotel room but is actually getting charged to a random room of number thirty-four's choosing, somewhere else in the hotel (of course we know that isn't true because there is no such thing as "random").
If you choose to defy categorization, there is a category for people that defy categorization. There is no escape.
Is there any possible way to embrace the inevitable categorization we force ourselves into?
If you fall into the defiant category of categorization you will likely have a bitter, dissatisfaction with your uncomfortable life experience and slowly become callous and numb over time. If you fall into the oblivious category of categorization, you become blind to reality, although somewhat more comfortable in general, unenlightened and cluelessly unfulfilled.
To answer the question whether or not we can embrace this categorization, I'll ask a question. Would you rather be unenlightened or calloused?
Today's Jazz Hands are categorically intangible. Day one-hundred complete.
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