Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
Today is Wednesday. Usually we’re drafting, or, at very least, thinking about drafting some kind of idea for the Six Sentence Story bloghop. The Six Sentence Story bloghop starts this evening at 6:00 pm (Oceania time).
So, we’d best keep this short, no?
(Funny story: so I did a search of all posts for ‘short post’, got, like 534 returns. ok. searched ‘very short post’. 487…. ‘very short little post’ 328! gave up. scanned the last set of posts. got what’s below.)
Before that, remind us to write more about our Herd-inclined members. On the other side of the Six, of course.
Thanks.
Decoding the Doctrine: the 3 personality types of the Wakefield Doctrine
May 31, 2011Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine ( the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers ).
Predator!!! Herd Animal!!! Blue Monkey!!
(Simply convenient terms for a characteristic perception of reality or… hate speech?)
“rogerian indulgence… scottian impulsivity…clarklike irresponsibility”
(Examples of productive linguistic shorthand or…fighting words?)
“Don’t be such a clark!! Jeez, they shouldn’t say mean things like that, he is such a roger…god, why won’t you just grow up? scott!”
( Honesty or……… slurs?)
As awareness and interest in the Wakefield Doctrine continues to grow, we are benefiting from increasing feedback from Readers. (This) input becomes a useful and significant element in the crafting of the message (in) these Posts. As we know, just as the Doctrine holds that we all have the capacity to experience the world as each of the three personality types, the descriptive terms assigned to each (type) is meant to be multi-interpretive. Often found when describing aspects of human nature, the tendency to exaggerate should never be underestimated. And when you factor in writing skills that are at times rudimentary, the urge to use terms that are easy to misconstrue is just…about…irresistible. But, hey! what are ya gonna do?
The core fact remains, there are three personality types (that) are predicated on each of us experiencing the world in three distinctly characteristic ways. And as we are trying to describe the perception of one (personality) type to another personality type, we are forced to draw the picture in broad strokes…very broad strokes.It’s funny, each effort to present the Wakefield Doctrine to new Readers seems to bring along with it an example of the validity of our little personality theory. Today is no exception. The use of terms like predator and herd animal to describe scotts and rogers are often met with objections, “yeah but that has such negative connotations“, or “you must not think a lot of our type if you describe us like that…”.
The thing of it is, while people take issue with connotation or implication or insinuation, no one yet has said, “What? What does that term refer to?”
In most instances, when the discussion, say about clarks, gets to the point of, …”and so, the idea that you like to carry sentence fragments around with you…to spread through the few conversations that you have that allow the other person to get more than 3 complete sentences into..you clarks talk like that on purpose?” … everyone laughs.
Or if someone were to say, “…the print they use on the latex cycling suit is specially formulated to cause the wind rushing by to sound like the commercial jingle of that particular corporation, that way, during a ride, you can hear, ‘have it your way…have it your way at….” rogers (and clarks and scotts) all laugh. And understand, they know that we are talking about rogers without having to be told.What we are trying to say is that so far, no one has stopped and said, “What? I don’t get it.” Of course this has as much to do with the quality of intellect that the Readers (and Progenitors and DownSprings) bring to the table at this stage of the growth of the Doctrine. We all might as well enjoy it.
No doubt there will come a time, when the Wakefield Doctrine is on a par with Catholicism or Islam or Oprah that we will hear people say, “Hey, did you hear the one about the socially-contexted guy who met a socially-disconnected dream-instead-of-live girl and they ran into the act-without-reflection priest?”
Until then, clarks are ‘head-decorating, mumbling, manipulative funny people and scotts are ‘the Tasmanian devil-from-the-Warner Brothers-cartoon but with higher levels of social skills as represented by the Joe Pecsi character in ‘Good Fellas’ and rogers…’damn they talk so good you want to sit and listen forever…until you wake up and realise they have all left but you still to have to wash the dishes.’
*
…don’t forget to remind us!
FEAR. clarks spend their entire lives living with fear – trying to overcome it, face it, run away from it but damn, can never quite shake it. Fear has amazing power(s), not only in a present sense but in a future sense also. I wrote a Comment at this blog some time back about clarks being the ultimate “planners”. When faced with a challenge, in this case, how to avoid eating a Welsh “Rabbit”, the clark very often will go into “planning” mode.
A plan that is predicated on events that have not yet happened. Unless clarks are imbued with divine powers, they/we cannot know the future. (except that knowledge of the Wakefield Doctrine, (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers) can in fact help one to predict what oneself and those around them may do in any given scenario)
As clarks spend time in a future that does not yet exist, they miss out on the very present that will affect said future. Had the young Progenitor clark said to himself “lunch isn’t for 3 hours yet, who cares what they’re having” he would have avoided the self-imposed embarrassment that came when he was called on in class while he was doing his “planning”. One might say, ‘had the young clark been more scottian (who cares)or rogerian (everyone will be having Welsh Rabbit) all would have been avoided’.
Interesting that this was noticed by our young clark at such an early age. The “formative” years are so very, very crucial. The question oft asked at this blog is how/when does one eventually become predominantly a clark, scott or roger? What are the events that precede this “becoming”?
How was I to know that in first grade, while acting strictly in the here and now (scottian) and talking, talking, talking to my classmates (rogerian ) when I was not supposed to that, that was my defining “clark” moment? Maybe it was.
(In my ‘First Day of School Trauma’ contribution) I will simply say that for talking when I was not supposed, my punishment was to stand in front of the entire first grade class opening and closing my mouth (as if talking) until I was told to stop. I was absolutely mortified. I was embarrassed in front of my peers and mostly certainly would have been laughed at by them if it were not for the utter fear elicited by …..Sister Mary Cedric.
WOW!!! Talk about flash backs! It’s weird, but I too can’t remember anything about early school (kindergarten and first grade). Not a single memory. When my family moved from Illinois to New Jersey I attended Holy Cross. I was in 2nd grade and remember that clearly. Loved egg salad sandwiches. Remember we had to put our lunches in the back closet instead of a refrigerator where they would ferment all morning? And then those little cartons of milk that were always warm? Well, I loved egg salad sandwiches and would bring them to school for lunch all of the time. And all of the kids used to move their desks away from me. Fuck ‘em I thought to myself while I enjoyed my lunch. Looking back I’d have to say that was the first glimpse of my scottian nature as opposed to the previously mentioned Blood, Sweat and Tears stuff.
Yeah, those nuns were something else. I remember a really mean one called Sister Chairatina (sp?). We used to call her Sister Cherry Bomb. She was one mean, retched nun. There was this kid in my class (Jimmy Reynolds) who never paid attention and was always disrupting the class. Looking back I think he had ADHD. Anyway, Sister Cherry Bomb used to take him out of class and bang his head against the wall. The concrete wall. No lie.
One morning when the school bus pulled into the school parking lot Sister Chairatina was out there and we started chanting “…run her over, run her over….” Needless to say, the bus driver wasn’t too thrilled about that.
And then there was the time that my brother was caught with gum in his mouth. The nun made him put it in his hair for the rest of the day.
Man, those nuns got away with murder.
And of course there were the nun jokes. “What’s black and white and re(a)d all over? A bloody nun.” Shit I still remember the damn secret school song about tossing a nun down the stairs. I’ll spare you the lyrics.
But I digress. When I read the post all of those memories came flooding back. And now I am absolutely irrevocably certain that the scott in me came to life.
Thankfully in 6th grade I started attending public school. I was finally free from the wrath of those ungodly nuns. And I didn’t have to wear a uniform (I bet all you rogers loved wearing uniforms). How liberating that was!
OK, class dismissed.
We public school kids weren’t allowed uniforms. We were dragged in on Wednesdays after school and on Sunday after Mass for catechism, when they would try to convert the godless heathen Irish kids, or at least hope that we could be taught to stand upright. Many, many knuckles were bloodied by a nun wielding a three-sided ruler. The offense? Daring to touch something in the parochial kid’s desk that you were sitting at. I once studied the wrong catechism lesson, and was made to not just stand outside the classroom, but out of the school altogether in the parking lot. My mom was extremely pissed, but couldn’t even vaguely intimidate the nuns. I thought that was pretty amazing because she tore up the public school teachers on a regular basis. And we always thought that they liked you guys. Amazing how you can carry that stuff around for decades, eh?
yeah, those of us on the inside (the ones with the frickin school-clothes that you public school kids never had to wear) like the fact that you poor kids had to do the Wednesday afternoon cathecism thing, we alsways got out early that day.
Not just that we felt bad for any kids who had to go back into a school building, after the school day endedbut we also were told that it was all for show anyway…you know…”Class, the public school children will be coming in today, be sure not to tell them that they are all going to burn in hell when they die, anyway. Lets just keep that to our selves”.
Hey, AKH! I have a scottian associate at work who read these Comments…her contribution: that as punishment for not behavin like a good catholic school girl should, the nuns would make her be the one who had to clean up when someone puked! (Which considering the time and setting that we are discussing) was a fairly regular job. She does remember the green saw dust shit that was always the clean-up material of choice. (Long corridors of shiny green and black tile offset by short trails of sawdust, all headed in vain towards the bathrooms…)
Even though I am running late this morning, took a quick turn here and can’t resist my own “nun story”.
4th grade penmanship class. That’s correct. In the old days students weret taught the proper way to write. They called it “cursive”. (kids have it easy now – look at the picture and push the screen icon. can you spell “hamburger, no pickles”?)
(At this moment, Sister “C” is sitting in a rocker reminiscing over the last 175 years. Wait a minute! No, she isn’t, because back when I was in 4th grade she was already 125!)
Anyway, quiet spring day learning cursive. What’s that noise? Seems Donald B keeps whispering to his buddy. While the class looks on, Sister C quietly walks over to Donald B’s desk (while his back is turned, mind you) and waits for him to turn around and notice her. Once he does, we all hear a few semi-loud recriminating words and then watch in utter horror (and amazement) while this 125 year old, 100lb nun (wearing glasses) takes one hand and completely upturns Donald B’s desk.
Whoo-wee! It was loud, it was scary…. it was parochial.
A clark on steroids? A scott in a bad mood? A roger with not enough attention paid to her?