Hi, my name is Jim and I own a drill press.
There, I said it.
As a professional in a field fraught with ideology, I’ve developed an allergy to the stuff in heavy doses. Can’t stand it. It makes my skin itchy and I start to break out in a healthy case of “can’t get out of this conversation fast enough.”
We’ve all got a touch of the stuff. I mean, it’s nigh on impossible to go through all of life without ever systematizing your ideas and understanding of the world, but that’s not the kind of ideology I’m speaking of here. What I can’t abide is the “stick to your guns whatever the cost,” “holier than thou,” “if one brick falls they all fall” sort of thinking that polarizes people and separates them one from another. This is always just a step short of the worst kinds of things people do to one another.
It’s why I left Facebook a few years ago and it’s why I pick and choose my social media. It’s why I can’t turn on cable news. It’s also why, though most of my woodworking is done without harming any electrons, I still use a power tool every now and again when they’re called for.
I’m far more interested in semiotics than ideology. Understanding how we make and process signs to communicate in meaningful ways has always seemed far more manageable to me than policing the systems we create with those signs.
Some have posited that consistency is the hallmark of small minds or at least unimaginative ones. Although I’ve used that line to sway the crowd in my favor in more than one classroom debate, at the end of the day I think it’s a little more complicated than that. Perhaps Aldous Huxley said it best: “Consistency is contrary to nature, contrary to life. The only completely consistent people are the dead.”
Q: Is it important to create meaning?
A: It’s essential to life.
Q: Is it helpful if there is some level of coherency and connection in that vast swirling miasma of symbols, signs and ideas?
A: Sure. why not?
Q: Does it always and forever have to stay the same and unchanging?
A: How can it?
I think the idea of perfection was at once the great gift that the ancient Greeks left civilization and their great curse on the rest of us. Perfection is a nice idea. It’s not real. When we strive for absolute ideological consistency at all cost, we’re looking for something like a perfection of our own self-narrative and that doesn’t exist either. We can’t look for it in the ones we love, in our heroes, or even in ourselves. We are each in media res of a story that is still being written. Character development and plot twists are half the fun.
I have abandoned nearly all of my power tools because I have found a more meaningful experience in hand-tool work, but when it comes to hogging out a giant mortise in my leg vise chop, I just want to get that done. Someday, if all of the power is gone and we’re back to candles and daylight I’ll hack it out with a mortise chisel, but in the mean time my drill press got me most of the way there and handwork took me home.