Simplify don’t dumb down

The world is complex and hard to explain.

I once had a long argument with someone who told me that my way of speaking was not complax enough. So I deliberately changed how I was talking, I spoke about the method of communication I used and that while I understood his phrasiology I preferred clarity. In the end we came to an agreement that each of us had our own styles, but I did feel he had been condescending and patronising.

I still feel the same way about communicating with people. Yes you can be elitist, but what is the point? A teacher or expert might try and share information but if they don’t use explanations and analogies how can they pass it on. Simplification can help, visualising data using illustrations is a way of showing how things work. Teachers may assume you already understand the basics of a subject but you might not have attended the right courses. I never did Physics at A level, but did a course that required some knowledge of it. I had to resit the exam at the end because of that.

As far as I understand dumbing down isn’t simplification, it’s not even sharing correct information. It is using less knowledge and making it sound plausible, effectively cutting off dissemination (sharing) of any number of subjects to the detriment of civilisation. Instead of the sum of information growing and people’s lives improving, whether it’s in medicine, or finance, understanding the weather or geology, we seem bent on causing harm to people and places. An attempt to keep the masses down?

This post is a bit odd, I wanted to explain what I thought but I’ve been a bit verbose. I don’t know if I’ve achieved clarity, I just think dumbing down is not good for the world.

Singing about the cut (canal).

We sang about the boats and pots

Of horses pulling barges.

Before the cuts were built and dug.

The plates broke on the carts

A third of pottery destroyed

Because of mud and ruts

For a hundred years the canals enjoyed

The busy work of transport

Then motorways and rail roads were built

And ware shifted to “faster” ways.

The cuts were clogged with water weeds

The towpaths overgrown.

Until the leisure cruisers came

And cleaned the weeds away.

Now British waterways they rule

And you can moor your boat

Anglers dip their rods in water

And catch all sorts of course fish.

The canals are better than before

No shopping trolleys in them.

A resource for walkers, boaters, folk,

To enjoy and rest and play.

Summerhouse

Could only find a shed in free pictures…

This is my second short story on a spooky theme to be read out with my writers group at Halloween x

I’ve been watching the summerhouse for a few days. I thought I saw someone inside it. I can see it from the kitchen window, the one on the side of the house, a small square piece of glass. 

It overlooks the main garden and is where I have my cctv camera. Last night the camera beeped. I looked at the recording, but it was just a moth, fluttering in front of the camera. 

This morning I went out to look at the Summerhouse, but it was still padlocked, the windows are OK and apart from some ivy growing up the side everything seems fine. 

I’m loathe to walk in the garden. I have to use a stick and I’m a bit unsteady on my feet. There’s a wobbly step to negotiate and it makes me nervous. 

Anyway that was a few weeks ago. I’ve not seen anything recently. But the cctv has been quiet, apart from recording falling leaves. It’s almost autumn and the nights are getting colder. 

I still look out at the summerhouse, it’s more visible now the branches are losing their firey burden. Sometimes I see shadows, but I think it’s the way the sunlight filters through the undergrowth. 

2am, the milkman just delivered my milk, he always moves my bin to put it over the gate. It’s too late to go out now and it’s a bit frosty so I’ll wait till morning. 

I woke up a few minutes ago, there was another noise, I think the bin was moved again? It sits in front of my gate which has the basket for the milk bottles on the back… I’m not going out…. 

Now it’s morning. The milk was still there – gate still padlocked – but could someone have climbed over? 

I put my shoes on. It’s frosty out here 

I’m recording this on my phone – I want to take photos if I need to. Don’t trip over, I’ve got my walking stick…. I should be OK…. 

There IS something in the summerhouse! 

A dark shape. I can see eyes glinting in the dawn light. My chest feels tight, my pulse is racing. What the HELL IS THAT? 

Mrs Smiths phone was found by her corpse Sir. She seems to have come out looking for something or someone. She seems to have had a seizure, could be hypothermia? The Summerhouse is empty and there is no sign of forced entry. The backdoor of her house was locked from the outside we think, she had the key. The death was recorded as unexplained

Tomorrow is today

On our honeymoon we went caving! Today would have been our anniversary. When I thought of writing this it was our anniversary eve but I fell asleep and only just remembered to post something….

Time flies when you’re feeling sad. It rolls along leaving you behind. I keep imagining what things would have been like if he was still alive. Being on your own means having no one to discuss problems with. Yes I’ve got friends but it’s not the same. We went through a lot together. I wish we still could.

Put your phone down..

Lift your head up

See life

See the sky

Don’t just look at shop windows

See architecture..

Interesting windows,

Grooves and gutters

See the tree leaves

Waving in the wind

Xanthophyll and chlorophyll

Colours changing

Lift up your heads

See the setting sun

Falling with the leaves.

Put down your phone

And experience Autumn.

Grey matter

What is this thing called grey matter?

How does it work?

A controller of movement,

A creator of language

Emotions pull decisions

One way or the other.

Joined up letters and thinking.

Science explores and probes

Into the thing that created science.

Art and Music flow,

Pain and pleasure,

Athletic prowess.

Genius and idiocy,

Two sides of different minds.