Monday, April 5, 2010

Parasite Blog One

A short while ago, with the commencement of spring quarter and the class Writing in Context: Parasites, I began the endeavor of attempting to philosophically connect the concept of physical parasitic creatures and their ways of infiltrating a desired host to the metaphorical parasite of language and its ability to spread from one person’s mind to another. Now and then you might hear about the occurrence of a parasitic infection within the body of another animal. Of course this most often refers to a physical parasite finding its way into a desired host body and causing harm or some other effect to the point where it has become noticeable to the scientific community. This whole concept of infiltration, infection, subsequent effect, and further transmission can certainly be applied to that of language. When I engage in a conversation with someone, my ear receives incoming auditory stimuli that cause vibrations to travel down through my inner ear. These vibrations go through a number of changes but ultimately are received by part of my brain, which causes the incoming mechanical stimuli to be transduced into electrical signals at the point when the stimulus reaches some of my neurons and causes action potentials. Through a series of very complicated things that I don’t fully understand and which happen faster than I can comprehend, the incoming auditory stimuli are transformed into a type of signal that I recognize as incoming words. My brain then does another assortment of complex activities that allow me to recall past relevant memories, previous knowledge, and any other applicable bits of information from which I then formulate and verbalize a response.

The information I received from the other person will be stored in my short-term memory and, if it was interesting enough, will most likely move into my long-term memory for permanent storage. Through this set of actions, I have just been “infected,” so to speak, by a piece of information that was verbally transmitted to me by another person. This also applies to the written word in the sense that if I read something that has previously been recorded in writing by another person, their opinions, ideas, and/or thought processes become stored in my memory. In both cases, the infiltration of language by one mode or another inside my brain will inevitably contribute on some level to how my cognitive processes work, what opinions I might form, and what I choose to verbalize or write with respect to affected neurological information from the point of infection onward. Next time I speak to someone else, I may very well bring up information that I acquired from my previous conversation. As soon as those auditory signals leave my mouth and enter their ear, the infection will begin to spread in them as well. It is in this manner that language could be viewed as a communicable parasitic disease that blurs the lines between the metaphorical and physical realms.

While listening to the Radiolab broadcast on parasites I was particularly intrigued by the parasitic wasp. The wasp lays eggs in a host body with the intention of utilizing that creature to try and ensure the optimal survival rate of the wasp larvae. Once the larvae hatch within the host, they procure sustenance in the form of the host creature’s non-vital fluids and tissues. Through this method, the larvae are able to live inside the host while keeping it alive just long enough for them to become strong enough to survive without the use of the host body. This makes even the youngest parasitic wasp larvae seem brutally evil. The question that I pose is: at what level of cognitive functioning and mental capacity must an organism operate at in order to be accused of being evil? In the case of the parasitic wasp and its larvae, both the full-grown wasp and the larval stage of the wasp commit acts upon other creatures that are not only cruel and deadly, but also calculated and complex. It seems to me that these wasps are acting under the singular influence of their instincts. For example, the parasitic wasp instinctually knows what species to target and exactly how to deliver a toxin that incapacitates but does not kill, just as the larvae instinctually know which internal tissues and fluids to eat and which ones to leave alone. I’m guessing that the parasitic wasp has never given a second thought to why it does what it does; it just knows that that’s what it’s supposed to do. Given this thought process, would you then classify the wasp’s actions as an act of nature or as inherently evil? I don’t know how to answer this myself. I guess I would say that it’s both at once but not all the way either one.

This is relevant to language (in my mind, anyway) because the infiltration of language within the mind can be just as inherently evil in some ways. Specific pieces of information that may be inert to one person may be a source of obsession or addiction for a different person. As a parasite may have the power to control its host, the information one receives via spoken and/or written word may be so important or so intriguing to that person that they are driven by mental forces that they can’t control to seek out more of this information. They may experience an inability to prevent their mind from becoming entangled in the infectious information, which could result in insomnia, distress, lack of reason, obsessive behavior, and other signs of mental degradation. As the parasitic wasp sees the cockroach as a safe place for it’s young to grow up, they fail to appreciate the cockroach’s right to not be a disposable incubator. As one person mentions a rumor they heard as a mildly interesting anecdote, they fail to comprehend the devastating effect that it has on you.

2 comments:

  1. Interesting thoughts on wasps, language, evil and intentions. Your little example of how an idea can infect someone immediately reminded me of this: http://www.freewebs.com/calvin-hobbes-org/dadandcalvinsrecordplayer.jpg (Cute, eh?) It also reminded me of a conversation I had the other day with a friend who just returned from Chile. We were talking about learning language, and he mentioned how when he was hanging out with a group of Australians after a couple weeks of nothing but Spanish, he found himself speaking English with an Australian accent. He didn't think much of it, but I'm still wondering why it was.

    Sorry for the tangent. ;)

    Back on track, I totally agree that the wasp is not really evil, because it's only acting on instinct, not malice against the cockroach/aphid, whatever. Evil is a relative thing anyway. I bet a cockroach would think the wasp was evil, but the wasp would think that it's only propagating the species, just like any other creature.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I too agree that the wasp and other parasitic creatures of a similar nature are not evil. Meghan brought up the word "malice" and the lack thereof felt by the wasp, which coincides with my personal definition of "evil" as behavior performed with conscious malicious intent.
    As far as we know, wasps do not feel emotions like malice and therefore act the way they do solely based on instinct. It would be evil if the wasp knew of an alternate method of ensuring the survival of its young but chose to lay its eggs in the aphids anyway because it got some sort of sadistic pleasure out of the aphid's suffering, but obviously this is not the case. The wasp is just doing what nature has programmed it to do because it knows no other way to survive and is incapable of conceiving any other more peaceful ways of life.

    I also agree with the idea that language is infectious and transferable in much the same way as parasitic organisms, but I'm still not entirely convinced that it can be considered a parasite. Since language is not a "living" organism in the biological sense of the word, it doesn't actively seek to be transmitted in order to ensure its survival, which separates it from other parasites. I don't know, maybe I'm just taking the "language as a parasite" concept too literally.

    ReplyDelete