Thursday, December 2, 2010

This debate actually became heated, or "Why I will never be a fangirl"

I assure you that is not the norm with these discussions. I don't know if it's my natural levelheadedness or just our general curiosity about how we can be so different. Two days ago I was ranting about one of my favorite Alice Cooper character's history and Amy interjected with a comment about how I was essentially doing the same thing fandom does in speculating about it. I don't care for fandom, the whole thing weirds me out, but I didn't see it that way at all. Maybe two weeks ago I read the wiki page to learn what songs and albums featured this character and in order to do that I had to read an overview of the role each song and album played in defining the character, only to find that the fan speculation didn't sit well with me. They didn't make logical sense. 

However, now I had an open case in my mind that would not allow me to let it go until I'd figured out the most likely explanation. Normally I wouldn't give it a second thought, but it was brought to my attention and that was the start of it. I don't like to not have the answer to something. These holes became an itch in my brain that I didn't want to scratch but couldn't leave it alone! In the end it turned out that, though we don't exactly understand each other on this front, the debate had more to do with my misinterpretation of fandom as she meant it. Regardless, many interesting distinctions came up as a result. 

I once told her that I considered her to be a "thinker." She said she couldn't see me as not being a thinker, but it's hardly the same thing. She could sit and voluntarily read philosophy whereas I'm more likely to brush it aside as irrelevant. To me, if it can't be proven or disproven, then it's a waste of my time.  
You like to do, I like to create...Ideas are to me as material as your knitting is to you.

I'm not sure I agree with this wording, as I enjoy creating quite a lot. It's just that I like to create things that exist in the world; I like to have a token of my efforts. Never mind the fact that, unless I'm speaking, my thoughts move as slow as molasses.  
I think everything deserves consideration, you like to take things as they are presented to you.

I am a straightforward person in most regards: most symbolism is completely lost on me, even when I'm looking for it. I watch a movie or tv show with the intention of hearing the story that the director and writers tell me. Amy, on the other hand, wants to really consider the story before finishing it. 
To you there is a beginning and an end, to me there are only levels of attention.
I choose to avoid philosophy in part because I will never reach the end, I'll never know the "correct" answer. My favorite work are things which I can see my pace, and know that I'll know when I've finished. I like to work on only one thing [task, show] at a time and move on when I've finished, when I can. She thinks on more of a continuum where the problem always remains, even if she's not thinking about it then. If I have a problem without a solution, it won't leave me alone until I have one.
You like best what’s there, I like best what could be.
When Amy mentions something from the Sherlock Holmes stuff she's reading, she now specifies whether it's from canon, or the source material as written. Amy seems to view a story as a gift to the fans that they are free to do with as they will. I feel more that the story is the author's child and no parent likes to hear rumors about their children. She sees infinite possibilities in everything, while I look for the truth and try not to speculate.
You work to get to an answer, to me the answer is not half as satisfying as the attempt at finding it.

It's not the destination, but the journey that matters. So they say. Amy embodies this perfectly. I am the person that this old adage would be told to! I suppose at the end I would say, "I found the answer!" and feel immense satisfaction in my problem solving skills. After all, they didn't let me down.

Now that we've heard my piece, I'll end with a word from Amy on the matter at hand.
Everything is multi-dimensional. Show me a peanut and my brain will shoot off into a dozen different directions ranging from “oh look, a peanut” to “it’s completely possible that inside that peanut is a teeny tiny civilization on par with ancient Rome”. I mean, why not?

Why would I want to limit my thought patterns to the (currently) plausible when there are so many different ideas to have and consider?