Those other ravens were Thought and Memory. No, they weren’t in the Marvel movies, they’d end up being Hekyll and Jekyll in Song O’ the South, shudder, racist bickering disney sidekicks…
Anyway, we’re all familiar with reification, it means making into a thing. It’s what they did to Murphy in Robocop, I do love my cheesy movie references, as a colleague once said, sourly.
Here’s the outlaw Jimmy Wales to explain…
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Reification may refer to:
Science and technology
- Reification (computer science), the creation of a data model
- Reification (knowledge representation), the representation of facts and/or assertions
- Reification (statistics), the use of an idealized model to make inferences linking results from a model with experimental observations
- Reification (fallacy), the fallacy of treating an abstraction as if it were a real thing
- Reification (Gestalt psychology), the perception of an object as having more spatial information than is present
- Reification (linguistics), the transformation of a natural-language statement such that actions and events represented by it become quantifiable variables
- Reification (Marxism), the consideration of an abstraction of an object as if it had living existence and abilities
2 and 3 and especially 4, and a dash of 5, and a pinch of 6, and a big, carefully disinfected chunk of 7 and plenty of 9.
So what is thingification? I’m getting there, hold on. So and from that https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abstract_and_concrete link, I give you this handy table
|Tennis||A tennis match|
|Redness||Red light reflected off of an apple and hitting one’s eyes|
|Justice||A just action|
|Humanity (the property of being human)||Human population (the set of all humans)|
Iwould add on the left learning organisationand on the right…? Later, lets crack on…
This has a lot in common with Carse’s magnificent Occamick distinctions in his glorious prose-poem of Jesuitical logic: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finite_and_Infinite_Games
Back then, though, I was revisiting all the marvellous 80s learning organisation malarkey. Having been handed its ass on a plate by the wily orientals of the co-opetioning clans (Co-opetition? ugh. Great idea, vile wordle curdle) gathered under the stern gaze of grandma MITI, American carmakers were licking their wounds when a nice young man in a periwinkle blue jumper wandered in from Harvard with a book wot he wrote… https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Learning_organization
I soon realised the learning organisation was a dumbass reification, a pellet of baby food regurgitated for the fluffy pinstriped baby birdies in the boardroom to swallow. The issue is how do organisations learn, ffs, not have they got a ‘stificate in PRINCE Charming sick Stigma. Possibly helped by the fact that I was picking up on the learning organisation fad as it fell out of the top twenty and had therefore been dropped as a work area by m’colleauges in the spanish Inquisition, sorry MPD, management practice and development, when I worked at LGMB, formerly LGTB, not to be confused with LGBT.
Shapiro, Eileen C., Fad Surfing in theBoardroom: Managing in the Age of Instant Answers, Basic Books (1996), ISBN 0-2014419-5-0
organisational learning isn’tmuch better becauseit is, wordsaladalert a neologism portmanteau of reificatio… fuqsayk, just say it man – because its a POS made up of 2 horrible reifications, because organisations don’texist as a thing and neither does learning. Iwill stab you if Ihear you say ‘learning point’s or key learning points, and swear to god I will shoot you dead if you pluralise the verb learning.
What were really getting at is this, punchline alert, thingification is a process for an individual or ideally a small group who care, to deploy when they try to bring forth a new, erm, thing. That’s why Icalled it thingification. It is the yin to the enormous yang of thingification. Loved by Etonians because it hides the pain of thinking and feeling.
So, our pinstriped Waitroseian strides forth into his Cotswoldian landscape to inspect his (his! Lol) tradition country garden, the wife is really into Beth Chatto you know [look, you can use google, ffs, I’m getting tired now] these are hollyhocks from John Clares [googlit] garden near Stamford, and, its been a cold winter, not that he noticed, and the daffodills aren’t out yet, they’re the original ones you know, the pale small native flower not the horrid Dutch cultivars, like swaggering drag queens in SF, ugh, and he is suddenly apoplectic with rage, the pure Etonian rage of cousin Eustace in Dawn Treader, (twas on telly yesterday,) the Bunter-roid rage of the thwarted ten year old nanny’s boy, becuase Charles, and Bex, and tommo and Katerina and Binky and Daisy are up from the smoke for the weekend and the fucking daffodills aren’tout, and Iknow m’wife Madelaine will be so dissapointed, because bloody women letting me down again, and suddenly— a boy wrenched from home aged 7, and therefore locked into a grief gestalt trauma beneath saville row body armour—- and he will beat Maddy after his not-friends from the Bank have failed to gaze upon his Ozymandelsonian fucking flowers that Ibuy every year from by the till in me Nisa.
And do you know what he shouts? This Proustian wail he bellows across the hollyhocks, they aren’t out either, bastards, across the pinstripy lawn, we have this marvellous little man, George, still uses an absolutely ancient Dennis mower, must be in his 80s, Idigress, so he stands, our brittle etonian, at the top of his fitness peak, his arse getting stabbed by the ointy peak of his fitness, his perfect adaptation as bastardi di tutti bastadi, bigdog, and he shouts at the flowers, or rather the vibrant pale acidy-green spears of life stabbing up through the dirt and John Innes, and he shouts:
GROW, DAMN YOU, GROW ! ITOLD YOU TO GROWW!!!
IT’S ok, I’m calm now, gather, gather, deep breath.
A leaning organisation is a garden in a shitty patch of suburbia. Choked with bramble and knotweed, rose-bay willowheb, old mans beard, n shopping trolleys, ford anglia gearboxes and Pampers and hedgepr0n, prone to flooding when the river, etcetera, overhung by senile sycamores and seedy silver birch and I need this bombsite to look like this…
well, sucks teeth, says the lad from Green Quadrangle, we can do it, but it won’t be cheap…
Oops, nearly forgot, Thingification and
plink is the sound of new language being formed in the space between a small group of people who care.
Plink is an anti-reification place holder, a means of resisiting the misnomery of early and innacurate reification. As in yes! So what we need is BPR or TQM or no Gary, sit down , please. What we need is to find a PlainPhrase©, a form of plain english [plain, good Amish word, plain] a sentence ,not a TLA, a fucking sentence Gary, Cap at the front, full stop at the end, Gary, a sentence that even Marjorie in the typing pool, oh you don’tknow any marjorie, that because she left and she’s working at your rivals now, as AD, a sentence that even Marjorie can nod her head to.
We need a group quietly nods it head sentence gary.
Heres mine for learning organisation
“how, can we, (and by we I mean everybody, not just us, the staff and children of the small primary school in worcestershire, but the village and the cleaners and, and ,and, and and — where’s the boundary Gary, of the fishtank in the dentist waiting room, Gary)
I’ll start again:
HOW CAN WE ALL WORK TOGETHER BETTER ?
PlainPhrased © sentences are not clever or sharp or elegant. But you’ll know them by their quiet head-nodding in a circle of people who care.
I have an actual CaseStory©, but I’m, tired and need bacon, call me if ya wanna hear it.
Use the Phrase Luke, use. The. Phrase…
Fucking wordpress has hidden categories, so Ican add them, fuqitt.