Elusive Introversion

This article at the Atlantic on introverts is thought provoking, though I don't think it really deserves its title. There's not much about "caring" in it.

There are a few quotes I can identify with:

Many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors...

I know I've often felt like I'm faking something when I make small talk. I really don't think I know how to do it. I tend to want to either dive off the deep end into meaningful conversations that will leave participants changed in some way, or else keep my mouth shut.

... after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge.

This one is easy to feel guilty over. I used to find myself not wanting to go to some social event and I would feel like I was being rude. Then I learned, mostly through trial and error, that I need time to rest and re-center myself between social exertions.

At other times, Rauch goes too far:

Rather, introverts are people who find other people tiring.

I think this is stated too strongly. Author and psychotherapist Marti Laney makes the point in her book, The Introvert Advantage, that introverts can be energized by deep conversations in small groups. Is it a big surprise that I hate over-generalizations (except this one)?

Rauch also paints quite a caricature of extroversion, which I sense is a strong reaction to frustrations he's experienced (please, that's not intended as an ad hominem!):

Are introverts arrogant? Hardly. I suppose this common misconception has to do with our being more intelligent, more reflective, more independent, more level-headed, more refined, and more sensitive than extroverts.

I certainly share his frustrations, but I wouldn't go so far as to rank introverts as more intelligent than extroverts. Uni-dimensional intelligence measurements disgust me. Also, treating the introvert/extrovert classification as binary is a mistake in my opinion. Marti Laney spends a bit of time discussing variations. I believe there is a continuum of sorts.

Overall, the article's worth a read if you think some of your coworkers are "scary loners". I think we're still just beginning to understand this area of personality though.

Link: http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200303/rauch

The HeadOn Imperative

Commercials really annoy me. I don't know if I have some aural equivalent of an eidetic memory or what, but when I get some jingle in my head, it's hard to get it out, and it occupies much of my passive cycles.

I have no eyelids on my ears, so I can't keep jingles out. When I'm bombarded with something on TV or the radio, I feel like I'm being disrespected. Instead of appealing to my conscious mind with reasoning, the perpetrators are attempting to embed associations into my long-term memory. I've noticed a few tactics recently that particularly bother me:

• Terrible music - why would I ever want to hear a song some hourly studio musician wrote extolling the virtues of some laundry detergent? Some songs should not be written.
  
• Commandeering classic music - I can't listen to Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll" anymore without picturing a Cadillac motoring down a dusty road.
• Repetitive commands - Anyone seen the HeadOn commercials? They're shameless. Why don't you just point a gun to my head and get me to memorize your stupid application instructions? That's what it feels like. I won't buy that stuff specifically because of those commercials. And of course, they have to fold in on themselves by releasing a new commercial that has an actor state, "I can't stand your commercial, but your product is amazing!"
• Rapid-talk legalese - This is an old one that's used on radio a lot. If you have to double the duration of your spot by adding in disclaimers read by John Moschitta, you should rethink your approach.
  

A simple request: Please, just respect my intelligence and tell me what your product does and what its strong points are. I know, I know, I'm asking way too much. As Seth Stevenson notes in this article on Slate:

Maybe a small percentage of us will snootily refrain from buying HeadOn—as an act of protest against an ad we find irritating—but this is a small price to pay when millions of other folks are now familiar with HeadOn, curious about it, and unlikely ever to forget its name.

It's the same reason spam works -- some small clueless percentage of us think it's a good idea to buy some "v1agara" or "Codeinee no dr lvisit".

Senseless?

It's so easy to become desensitized to death when you read about it or see it on TV all the time. When I hear about strange circumstances like death by water intoxication while trying to win a Nintendo Wii, I try to go through a little exercise where I humanize the situation. I may not develop a historically accurate picture of the actual events, but I think it's a valuable diversion anyway.

"She was telling me about her family and her three kids and how she was doing it for her kids," said one of the contestants.

Before I begin an activity or competition like this, I usually have to make the case to myself that I can succeed. I have to mentally prepare myself with reasons why I can accomplish my goal, in order to summon the motivation I need. The type of preparation required differs based on the nature of the feat. Imagine the mental preparations that go into a lengthy task like climbing Mount Everest or running a marathon (I did a slow 5:16:31 in the 2004 Motorola Marathon). Now contrast that with the type of mental preparation that people like the cast of Jackass undergo when performing most of their stunts. I think the latter is usually both much quicker and more . It involves more phrases like, 'If I can just sit still, it will be over.' Witness the riot control test stunt from Jackass Number Two, in which the guys are hit with a blast of small rubber balls going 500 feet per second. Johnny Knoxville says something to the others like, "It's gonna hurt like hell, but you just have to stand there ..."

This woman had to have been thinking, 'I just have to drink a lot of water, and I win this toy for my kids -- I can do that.' She couldn't have imagined that death was even a possibility when she took this on (maybe in contrast to the Jackass cast). I try to imagine the moment when she realizes that she is in trouble. Does she have time to think of her kids? Does she think about the fact that she might have just given her life to win a toy?