Yesterday's thoughts were scrambled, not well put together. A lot like most of my real thoughts, probably. It did get me thinking more about sources of information as being relevant to the information itself.
There's a theory in Pragmatism that essentially states that a fact cannot be denounced based on the source it comes from. An insane person could say that the Statue of Liberty is in New York, and it wouldn't magically become untrue because the person saying it also claimed that his feet were made of butter.
I feel like some of this was applied to other philosophers, specifically Nietzsche. Whenever I bring up Nietzsche as a strong influence in my own philosophical life, I get the usual reaction that either points out that he renounced everything he said (untrue), that he went insane at the end of his life (true) or that he died of syphilis (also true). Granted, I was going to a Christian University where students seemed to have a noted distaste for the philosopher who claimed that God was dead.
Their reactions were meant, I think, to discredit Nietzsche either to me or to themselves. It gave them a reason not to buy into his logic. After all, why listen to a man who went crazy and died of venereal disease?
Because an idea must be separated from its source. If this were not the case, no great ideas would flourish for very long. Most great thinkers have lives that a clouded by darkness or are colored by those who wrote history as crack-pots. Socrates was a blasphemer. John, who wrote Revelations, was an exile on Patmos when he wrote it. Jesus was considered a false prophet and put to death for his teachings.
The concept of an idea outliving a person is explored in Alan Moore's novel V for Vendetta. V, also a crazy person, speaks in an ego-less manner, preferring to evoke a sense of the ideas he champions (freedom, passion, art) instead of revealing characteristics about himself. The reasoning is that "ideas are bulletproof". You can kill a man. But you cannot kill an idea.
And yet it pains me when I bring up a controversial thinker like Nietzsche only to hear the same regurgitated blather about his personal life. It's a method of protecting one's self from having to think about something that might not agree with you. It's easier to condemn a man, than an idea. We do it all the time - see it all the time. Politicians bring up personal attacks instead of talking about the issues. We fail to listen to criticism based on who says it. We tend to worry more about a person being judgmental than what their judgment is.
It's impossible to take every idea at depth and examine it, so it's natural to have a vetting process. Sometimes I wonder, though, whether this vetting process helps us or hurts us. It certainly makes us feel good. Keeps us away from stray ideas. Makes us listen to positive feedback or negative criticism told lovingly.
Maybe, sometimes, what we need is a challenge. Harsh words. Something we can't turn away from so easily. Maybe what we need is something that wakes us up instead of patting us gently on the back.
21 December 2007
Stamp of Approval
More than once in my life I've been called judgmental.
This stems, I believe, from me judging people.
For the most part, I consider myself a very good judge of people. Not necessarily of character, but of the types of people that I encounter. Using basic psychology and a little observation, it's pretty easy to boil most people down to core elements. And I say most people, because not everyone is so easy to read. It's that other group that gives me trouble though.
I once bragged to a very beautiful woman that I knew exactly what she was like within the first half hour that I met her. This is true for most people I meet. It doesn't take long to figure out people's personalities and motivations. People wear them on their sleeves. People project them in the smallest speech patterns and body languages. I was not entirely honest with this woman, though. I had a lot of her figured out pretty quick. But she was one of those people in life that surprised me. She had more to her than what she was projecting.
I find I'm drawn to people like that. People with a little more hidden behind their smile than most. Dynamic people.
This got me thinking about judgment. For the most part, it has a bad connotation. It's a condemnation to be judgmental. It's a bad thing. We usually think of someone being judgmental who doesn't have all the facts. People with a prejudice. Or we think of them as being high-and-mighty, excused from being judged themselves.
But everyone judges everyone else on a daily basis. It's part of our survival kit. See the guy in the trench coat with the beady eyes following you into the subway car? He could be up to no good. We judge him on based on his appearance. Some people love stories where a character like this threatens with his presence and then ends up helping someone in the end. The moral of the story is to be careful before judging someone.
But judging people is good. That guy with the trenchcoat probably is up to no good. And for the survival of the species, we learn to recognize these visual clues so we don't have to get to know a person before they mug us. We recognize danger so we can avoid it.
And another thing, what about someone who has all the facts and makes a judgment? I think of some judgmental people as blow-hards that proclaim certain truths about others as a means to avoid detection of their own faults, sure. But what about the people who have the back-up for their judgment call? Is it still wrong for them to voice an opinion?
I think it boils down to two things. One, we don't like being defined. We are frightened that it takes away our freedom or means we're boring or easy to figure out. Two, we don't like to be defined negatively. A judgment call usually infers that someone has placed values up against your behavior and you've lost out. They don't approve of something you're doing.
We tend to react harshly and quickly to those kinds of judgments. My question is simple. What if that person being judgmental, is right?
This stems, I believe, from me judging people.
For the most part, I consider myself a very good judge of people. Not necessarily of character, but of the types of people that I encounter. Using basic psychology and a little observation, it's pretty easy to boil most people down to core elements. And I say most people, because not everyone is so easy to read. It's that other group that gives me trouble though.
I once bragged to a very beautiful woman that I knew exactly what she was like within the first half hour that I met her. This is true for most people I meet. It doesn't take long to figure out people's personalities and motivations. People wear them on their sleeves. People project them in the smallest speech patterns and body languages. I was not entirely honest with this woman, though. I had a lot of her figured out pretty quick. But she was one of those people in life that surprised me. She had more to her than what she was projecting.
I find I'm drawn to people like that. People with a little more hidden behind their smile than most. Dynamic people.
This got me thinking about judgment. For the most part, it has a bad connotation. It's a condemnation to be judgmental. It's a bad thing. We usually think of someone being judgmental who doesn't have all the facts. People with a prejudice. Or we think of them as being high-and-mighty, excused from being judged themselves.
But everyone judges everyone else on a daily basis. It's part of our survival kit. See the guy in the trench coat with the beady eyes following you into the subway car? He could be up to no good. We judge him on based on his appearance. Some people love stories where a character like this threatens with his presence and then ends up helping someone in the end. The moral of the story is to be careful before judging someone.
But judging people is good. That guy with the trenchcoat probably is up to no good. And for the survival of the species, we learn to recognize these visual clues so we don't have to get to know a person before they mug us. We recognize danger so we can avoid it.
And another thing, what about someone who has all the facts and makes a judgment? I think of some judgmental people as blow-hards that proclaim certain truths about others as a means to avoid detection of their own faults, sure. But what about the people who have the back-up for their judgment call? Is it still wrong for them to voice an opinion?
I think it boils down to two things. One, we don't like being defined. We are frightened that it takes away our freedom or means we're boring or easy to figure out. Two, we don't like to be defined negatively. A judgment call usually infers that someone has placed values up against your behavior and you've lost out. They don't approve of something you're doing.
We tend to react harshly and quickly to those kinds of judgments. My question is simple. What if that person being judgmental, is right?
The Engrossing Problem
I'm starting to realize that my natural tendencies are at odds with what I stand for.
The story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is one that pretty much everyone knows. A guy meddling too far into the realm of science ends up creating a monster of himself, unleashing a part of him that is meant to stay hidden for the safety of all concerned. No one pays much attention to the meaning or the warning of the story.
In fact, no one seems to pay much attention to the meaning behind most monster movies. My favorite example would be zombie films. George Romero created the genre in earnest when he made Night of the Living Dead. In it, a group of unaffected people try to fight off the zombie horde that constantly closes in on them. The protagonist, a black man, escapes with his life only to be gunned down by racist rednecks at the end. Most audiences see it as a frightening story filled with great intensity and surprises that make girls leap out of their seats and into their boyfriends' arms.
I see the political message behind it. After all, what are zombies? There's no threat to them - they aren't fast, agile, intelligent. In fact, they are the opposite of what most great monsters are. But the thing that makes them scary is their numbers. They just keep coming. They are frightening because there are just so damned many of them.
Beware of stupid people in large groups.
They represent the herd mentality that is present in us all. The cues we take to follow the crowd and see where it takes us. At the end of the movie, the main character is killed not because of a supernatural threat, but because of a very real one (one incredibly real for when the film was made in the 1960s). The movie was a statement to stop following blindly and to start thinking humanely about people. Of course now, the idea can be applied to anything. We even use the word zombie from time to time to describe cultural phenomena.
For Jekyll and Hyde, the joke is that they are the same person. Scary movies tend to play off of our fears well because they focus on the most well rooted parts of our personalities. We all fear in some way that there's a part of us that's dangerous. A part that should be left in the dark. A part that should never manifest itself outside our minds.
And in some ways, we let it out. Shooting the middle finger at the guy that cut us off. Being short with a coworker because we've had a stressful day. Wanting to punch the ass that spilled beer on us at the party.
The message of the tale is that keeping your primal urges caged is the only safe thing. In the end, Jekyll is destroyed completely and several people are killed. It is a struggle, though, a daily struggle to keep those urges under wraps. I envy people who so effortlessly adhere to a moral structure. They are few and far between, but there are a few people in life who just seem to be free to live how they please because their upbringing instilled so deeply in them a sense of unshakable morals. It is one thing to act morally and another to think morally.
My thoughts tend to be all over the place, which is why they are often at odds with what I stand for. The pain there in doing what it right despite it going against my natural tendency is a palpable one. I can feel it physically sometimes. That's when I try to remember the cautionary tales of what happens when you let those natural tendencies out.
And they don't always work.
The story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is one that pretty much everyone knows. A guy meddling too far into the realm of science ends up creating a monster of himself, unleashing a part of him that is meant to stay hidden for the safety of all concerned. No one pays much attention to the meaning or the warning of the story.
In fact, no one seems to pay much attention to the meaning behind most monster movies. My favorite example would be zombie films. George Romero created the genre in earnest when he made Night of the Living Dead. In it, a group of unaffected people try to fight off the zombie horde that constantly closes in on them. The protagonist, a black man, escapes with his life only to be gunned down by racist rednecks at the end. Most audiences see it as a frightening story filled with great intensity and surprises that make girls leap out of their seats and into their boyfriends' arms.
I see the political message behind it. After all, what are zombies? There's no threat to them - they aren't fast, agile, intelligent. In fact, they are the opposite of what most great monsters are. But the thing that makes them scary is their numbers. They just keep coming. They are frightening because there are just so damned many of them.
Beware of stupid people in large groups.
They represent the herd mentality that is present in us all. The cues we take to follow the crowd and see where it takes us. At the end of the movie, the main character is killed not because of a supernatural threat, but because of a very real one (one incredibly real for when the film was made in the 1960s). The movie was a statement to stop following blindly and to start thinking humanely about people. Of course now, the idea can be applied to anything. We even use the word zombie from time to time to describe cultural phenomena.
For Jekyll and Hyde, the joke is that they are the same person. Scary movies tend to play off of our fears well because they focus on the most well rooted parts of our personalities. We all fear in some way that there's a part of us that's dangerous. A part that should be left in the dark. A part that should never manifest itself outside our minds.
And in some ways, we let it out. Shooting the middle finger at the guy that cut us off. Being short with a coworker because we've had a stressful day. Wanting to punch the ass that spilled beer on us at the party.
The message of the tale is that keeping your primal urges caged is the only safe thing. In the end, Jekyll is destroyed completely and several people are killed. It is a struggle, though, a daily struggle to keep those urges under wraps. I envy people who so effortlessly adhere to a moral structure. They are few and far between, but there are a few people in life who just seem to be free to live how they please because their upbringing instilled so deeply in them a sense of unshakable morals. It is one thing to act morally and another to think morally.
My thoughts tend to be all over the place, which is why they are often at odds with what I stand for. The pain there in doing what it right despite it going against my natural tendency is a palpable one. I can feel it physically sometimes. That's when I try to remember the cautionary tales of what happens when you let those natural tendencies out.
And they don't always work.
17 December 2007
The Even Keel
Why can't we apply the same seriousness of our dating relationships to our friendships?
I guess this isn't everyone - I know it isn't, as I've been talking with a friend of mine about it, and she disagrees. But I do see the pattern in some people, including myself. We tend to put a different kind of stock in our dating relationships than our friendships.
For some people, I've noticed they have the ability to drop a relationship based on friends' opinions. They so value their friendships that they wouldn't do anything to harm them - and they trust their friends' opinions enough to realize they have best interests in mind. I revel at this sort of commitment. In my time on earth, I've so craved female affirmation, that I've forsaken a lot of my friendships for time spent with a significant other. Somehow, I learned this lesson later in the game than I should have.
My last serious relationship stayed balanced because we both were incredibly busy. However, this caused an imbalance of its own - when we did have free time, all we wanted to do was see each other. Thus, we were either working or together. This destroyed a social life to a certain extent.
But I wonder why this need is so strong. Why lose time with half a dozen people that love you in exchange for devotion from one person? There are obvious differences between dating and friendship, but these differences seem to be disproportion ally magnetic. They seem small, but they can have such strong reactions.
This thought isn't very well defined or articulated. Probably because it's still in the incubation phase. I'm just looking for answers at this point. The only thing I can think of so far is that the love that comes from a relationship is a much stronger drug. Maybe one that takes much more upkeep than a friendship. We hold onto it tighter because we imagine that's what it takes.
I love you all. Wouldn't trade you for the world.
I guess this isn't everyone - I know it isn't, as I've been talking with a friend of mine about it, and she disagrees. But I do see the pattern in some people, including myself. We tend to put a different kind of stock in our dating relationships than our friendships.
For some people, I've noticed they have the ability to drop a relationship based on friends' opinions. They so value their friendships that they wouldn't do anything to harm them - and they trust their friends' opinions enough to realize they have best interests in mind. I revel at this sort of commitment. In my time on earth, I've so craved female affirmation, that I've forsaken a lot of my friendships for time spent with a significant other. Somehow, I learned this lesson later in the game than I should have.
My last serious relationship stayed balanced because we both were incredibly busy. However, this caused an imbalance of its own - when we did have free time, all we wanted to do was see each other. Thus, we were either working or together. This destroyed a social life to a certain extent.
But I wonder why this need is so strong. Why lose time with half a dozen people that love you in exchange for devotion from one person? There are obvious differences between dating and friendship, but these differences seem to be disproportion ally magnetic. They seem small, but they can have such strong reactions.
This thought isn't very well defined or articulated. Probably because it's still in the incubation phase. I'm just looking for answers at this point. The only thing I can think of so far is that the love that comes from a relationship is a much stronger drug. Maybe one that takes much more upkeep than a friendship. We hold onto it tighter because we imagine that's what it takes.
I love you all. Wouldn't trade you for the world.
Loving Hate
This might be challenging. It was to me.
The Westboro Baptist Church was founded in 1955 by Fred Phelps. Since then, it has been in and out of the national spotlight for several reasons. They are vehemently anti-gay, anti-Catholic, anti-Islam and there are serious reasons to consider them anti-black and anti-semitic. As such, they are known mostly for picketing the funerals of homosexuals who were murdered or died of AIDS. They picket lesbian and gay weddings. They protest at the funerals of American soldiers who died in Iraq.
All of their actions are founded on strong beliefs in a few Old Testament passages, couples with an unnerving dedication to the closeness of Rapture. They hate America (and several other countries) because they feel the countries enable homosexuality. To them, this sin is above all others and stands as the principle cause of God's alleged hatred of these countries. Including the US.
Westboro could certainly be considered a cult by the broad and narrow definitions. In broad terms, a cult is a dedicated group of people that follow an ethos that stands outside the mainstream. In narrow terms, a cult is a dangerous mechanism of brainwashing, usually dedicated to a strong, central leader that uses dishonest tactics in order to bring others into the fold. The danger also moves beyond spewing hate-speech.
Phelps himself has been arrested for battery several times. His son speaks out against him, claiming that Phelps beat his children and wife in accordance with Old Testament law. His other son, however, is a dedicated follower who set up the first website for Westboro. Currently, the church runs sites including:
GodHatesFags.com
GodHatesAmerica.com
among others.
The list of vile things about this group is far too long to write down. A quick trip over to their wikipedia entry should enlighten if you need more reason to despise them.
They are getting headlines again for releasing several videos of songs they've written. One is a parody of We Are the World cleverly retitled God Hates the World (and it can be v iewed here.) Most people I've talked to consider this the worst of the videos because of the last twenty seconds.
Reading the literature on this group and watching their videos is guaranteed to make blood boil.
I got into a discussion with a friend of mine regarding the group in relation to my fears of religion. This group represents how far the pendulum can swing when religion is involved. For the most part, I realize that religion is a great help to the world. It creates an enlightenment about life that spreads joy and love. But in the wrong hands, it becomes incredibly dangerous - just like anything that elicits that sort of power.
My friend commented that what these people had was not religion, and I agree its a perversion, but its still based in religious belief. Hate them as much as you'd like, but what they believe in is still religious - they believe in God and believe in a certain way of living based on their interpretation of the Bible.
All of this aside, it brought me to the real puzzling question, and I hope it's something that puzzles you as well.
Christ calls on us to love one another. He teaches to feel compassion.
So how does one show compassion to this group?
It's easy to hate them. It's the natural response to the sort of vitriol and holier-than-thou-ness they exude. But hate isn't the correct response according to the teachings of Christ.
After your blood boils over from reading about this group or checking out their videos on youtube, how do you look at them with kindness and love? How do you love this group? How do you spread God's love to them?
Leaving a religious component aside for a moment, I'll say that I have the same question based on my beliefs. As someone that believes in humanity and its endeavors, I find myself concerned with how this group fits into the grand scheme, and how I can show love for them as fellow humans.
It's, for the moment, definitely got me stumped.
The Westboro Baptist Church was founded in 1955 by Fred Phelps. Since then, it has been in and out of the national spotlight for several reasons. They are vehemently anti-gay, anti-Catholic, anti-Islam and there are serious reasons to consider them anti-black and anti-semitic. As such, they are known mostly for picketing the funerals of homosexuals who were murdered or died of AIDS. They picket lesbian and gay weddings. They protest at the funerals of American soldiers who died in Iraq.
All of their actions are founded on strong beliefs in a few Old Testament passages, couples with an unnerving dedication to the closeness of Rapture. They hate America (and several other countries) because they feel the countries enable homosexuality. To them, this sin is above all others and stands as the principle cause of God's alleged hatred of these countries. Including the US.
Westboro could certainly be considered a cult by the broad and narrow definitions. In broad terms, a cult is a dedicated group of people that follow an ethos that stands outside the mainstream. In narrow terms, a cult is a dangerous mechanism of brainwashing, usually dedicated to a strong, central leader that uses dishonest tactics in order to bring others into the fold. The danger also moves beyond spewing hate-speech.
Phelps himself has been arrested for battery several times. His son speaks out against him, claiming that Phelps beat his children and wife in accordance with Old Testament law. His other son, however, is a dedicated follower who set up the first website for Westboro. Currently, the church runs sites including:
GodHatesFags.com
GodHatesAmerica.com
among others.
The list of vile things about this group is far too long to write down. A quick trip over to their wikipedia entry should enlighten if you need more reason to despise them.
They are getting headlines again for releasing several videos of songs they've written. One is a parody of We Are the World cleverly retitled God Hates the World (and it can be v iewed here.) Most people I've talked to consider this the worst of the videos because of the last twenty seconds.
Reading the literature on this group and watching their videos is guaranteed to make blood boil.
I got into a discussion with a friend of mine regarding the group in relation to my fears of religion. This group represents how far the pendulum can swing when religion is involved. For the most part, I realize that religion is a great help to the world. It creates an enlightenment about life that spreads joy and love. But in the wrong hands, it becomes incredibly dangerous - just like anything that elicits that sort of power.
My friend commented that what these people had was not religion, and I agree its a perversion, but its still based in religious belief. Hate them as much as you'd like, but what they believe in is still religious - they believe in God and believe in a certain way of living based on their interpretation of the Bible.
All of this aside, it brought me to the real puzzling question, and I hope it's something that puzzles you as well.
Christ calls on us to love one another. He teaches to feel compassion.
So how does one show compassion to this group?
It's easy to hate them. It's the natural response to the sort of vitriol and holier-than-thou-ness they exude. But hate isn't the correct response according to the teachings of Christ.
After your blood boils over from reading about this group or checking out their videos on youtube, how do you look at them with kindness and love? How do you love this group? How do you spread God's love to them?
Leaving a religious component aside for a moment, I'll say that I have the same question based on my beliefs. As someone that believes in humanity and its endeavors, I find myself concerned with how this group fits into the grand scheme, and how I can show love for them as fellow humans.
It's, for the moment, definitely got me stumped.
12 December 2007
The Death of Fun
Here's to fourth times.
Yesterday was our first snow of the season here in DC. It was incredible. While I was down in the lobby watching everyone mill about as if it was business as usual, I had to resist the urge to run out into the street to play in the snow. And yet everyone seemed like it wasn't an important event, like snow was something that just comes around all the time, nothing special, nothing unique.
My attitude toward snow is based, probably, solely on the fact that yesterday was the fourth time I've ever seen it. It was only really the second time I've seen it in such huge amounts - covering everything in beautiful, lustrous white. So it's a rare thing for me. I've not yet grown so accustomed to it that I can look outside at its beauty and only feel disdain for it ruining my travel schedule or making it difficult to walk.
I realize that I get excited by a lot of things that make me seem childish. I took a quick inventory of what I've considered my goals for the past few years, and several things stuck out:
1) To become wealthy enough to build and maintain a Class C zoo fit for keeping two (2) river otters.
This is my top priority. At some point in my life I want to live comfortably enough to be able to sit in a rocking chair all day and watch the river otters play. As a creature with no real natural enemies and no lack of talent in the food-catching department, otters pretty much just play around all day. They are graceful in the water and hilarious to watch on land - never a dull moment.
2) I'd like a large room in my house that's floor is made out of bedding.
I've decided that the walls should be normal - only the floor of the room should be made out of mattresses. I think this would be really useful on a daily basis and for visitors who come to spend the night. What's that? You don't like sleeping on the couch? Well, just sleep on the floor.
3) I want my life to be filled with new experiences and daily surprises.
In this world, I think the only way to facilitate surprise or excitement is to keep a child-like wonder about everything. It shocks me when people don't get excited about the possibilities of technology or the beauty of nature. This stuff is so crazy, so complex, so incredible that it takes a truly hardened person to pass by it with disdain. I told a colleague of mine who always wears these chic, very attractive black dresses to work that I'd like to see her in a lime green sweatshirt in jeans. When she asked me why, I told her that it would be a different experience. She responded that people wouldn't be able to handle it. And I felt like that was sort of the point.
I can't figure out whether this childishness is going to hurt me in the long run or not. For now, I'm just sort of riding the wave of it all. Maybe my goals should be a bit more conventional - a 401k, a family, pension plan, security.
It seems like I'm fighting against the notion of security, though. I love having a job and an apartment. They make me feel safe and secure. But the trade off is a lack of excitement. You have to sacrifice some of the randomness in life to come into work at 9am every morning. And some days, I just want to burst out of the office doors and jump in a big pile of snow.
Yesterday was our first snow of the season here in DC. It was incredible. While I was down in the lobby watching everyone mill about as if it was business as usual, I had to resist the urge to run out into the street to play in the snow. And yet everyone seemed like it wasn't an important event, like snow was something that just comes around all the time, nothing special, nothing unique.
My attitude toward snow is based, probably, solely on the fact that yesterday was the fourth time I've ever seen it. It was only really the second time I've seen it in such huge amounts - covering everything in beautiful, lustrous white. So it's a rare thing for me. I've not yet grown so accustomed to it that I can look outside at its beauty and only feel disdain for it ruining my travel schedule or making it difficult to walk.
I realize that I get excited by a lot of things that make me seem childish. I took a quick inventory of what I've considered my goals for the past few years, and several things stuck out:
1) To become wealthy enough to build and maintain a Class C zoo fit for keeping two (2) river otters.
This is my top priority. At some point in my life I want to live comfortably enough to be able to sit in a rocking chair all day and watch the river otters play. As a creature with no real natural enemies and no lack of talent in the food-catching department, otters pretty much just play around all day. They are graceful in the water and hilarious to watch on land - never a dull moment.
2) I'd like a large room in my house that's floor is made out of bedding.
I've decided that the walls should be normal - only the floor of the room should be made out of mattresses. I think this would be really useful on a daily basis and for visitors who come to spend the night. What's that? You don't like sleeping on the couch? Well, just sleep on the floor.
3) I want my life to be filled with new experiences and daily surprises.
In this world, I think the only way to facilitate surprise or excitement is to keep a child-like wonder about everything. It shocks me when people don't get excited about the possibilities of technology or the beauty of nature. This stuff is so crazy, so complex, so incredible that it takes a truly hardened person to pass by it with disdain. I told a colleague of mine who always wears these chic, very attractive black dresses to work that I'd like to see her in a lime green sweatshirt in jeans. When she asked me why, I told her that it would be a different experience. She responded that people wouldn't be able to handle it. And I felt like that was sort of the point.
I can't figure out whether this childishness is going to hurt me in the long run or not. For now, I'm just sort of riding the wave of it all. Maybe my goals should be a bit more conventional - a 401k, a family, pension plan, security.
It seems like I'm fighting against the notion of security, though. I love having a job and an apartment. They make me feel safe and secure. But the trade off is a lack of excitement. You have to sacrifice some of the randomness in life to come into work at 9am every morning. And some days, I just want to burst out of the office doors and jump in a big pile of snow.
Descartes Before the Horse
Without mystery, I'm not sure what's left.
It takes a lot to remind me of this, though. I'm not sure why, but every so often in my life a huge mystery crops up. I'm frustrated by it. It worries me and destroys my sense of ego - as most of my ego is based on me grasping the world around me in a smug, know-it-all sort of way. But I realize soon enough the excitement of it all. A new puzzle to solve. A new challenge to figure out.
The frustrating part is not knowing whether I'll figure it out or whether my solution to the mystery will work. And of course there's the general uncertainty of having something prevalent in my life that's up in the air. We, as humans, like closure. We like bad guys to lose in movies and good guys to get the girl. We like loose ends being tied up because we get on edge when they don't. We hate open endings because they excite us and we seek comfort. Our primal quest for food, shelter, companionship is a question that demands an answer. We have to have those answers, because without them, we wonder if we'll survive. Perhaps knowing if the hero escapes the deadly trap, captures the villain and marries the girl is a matter of survival for us as well.
In the drama of our own lives, we are terrified by the unknown, by the x factor that crops up in our plans and ruins them. Makes us rethink them. Maybe takes a goal away from us permanently. This is even more frustrating - more so than having a question up in the air, is having it answered in a way that we didn't want. From this point, we usually choose denial or we go through the five stages of grief as if we'd lost something as important as life itself.
We deny, we get angry, we bargain, we get sad, and then, hopefully, we accept.
The question is, do we hate having something in our lives that is a frustrating mystery more than we hate having the answer to that mystery be the one we weren't hoping for? Would we rather be frustrated or disappointed?
It takes a lot to remind me of this, though. I'm not sure why, but every so often in my life a huge mystery crops up. I'm frustrated by it. It worries me and destroys my sense of ego - as most of my ego is based on me grasping the world around me in a smug, know-it-all sort of way. But I realize soon enough the excitement of it all. A new puzzle to solve. A new challenge to figure out.
The frustrating part is not knowing whether I'll figure it out or whether my solution to the mystery will work. And of course there's the general uncertainty of having something prevalent in my life that's up in the air. We, as humans, like closure. We like bad guys to lose in movies and good guys to get the girl. We like loose ends being tied up because we get on edge when they don't. We hate open endings because they excite us and we seek comfort. Our primal quest for food, shelter, companionship is a question that demands an answer. We have to have those answers, because without them, we wonder if we'll survive. Perhaps knowing if the hero escapes the deadly trap, captures the villain and marries the girl is a matter of survival for us as well.
In the drama of our own lives, we are terrified by the unknown, by the x factor that crops up in our plans and ruins them. Makes us rethink them. Maybe takes a goal away from us permanently. This is even more frustrating - more so than having a question up in the air, is having it answered in a way that we didn't want. From this point, we usually choose denial or we go through the five stages of grief as if we'd lost something as important as life itself.
We deny, we get angry, we bargain, we get sad, and then, hopefully, we accept.
The question is, do we hate having something in our lives that is a frustrating mystery more than we hate having the answer to that mystery be the one we weren't hoping for? Would we rather be frustrated or disappointed?
11 December 2007
The Humbug
Why don't we trust in rationale?
We've been on this planet for so long, and we still fear the unknown so strongly that we choose to use voodoo and magic instead of trusting in the honesty and completeness of science and common sense. There are still opportunists that prey on the fears and misunderstandings, the wish-fulfillment thinking that pervades some people who have a desperate need for answers and an open pocket book.
Reflexology, Feng Shui, Crystal Power, Shakras, Magic Pills, Weight loss miracles, Telekinesis, ESP, talking with the dead, spoon benders - and the greatest hack, the most despicable opportunists in my book - televangelists.
Benny Hinn, Peter Popoff, Jim Bakker, Oral Roberts and others. Even though these men were publicly exposed as frauds, they continued to thrive and make money off of some of the poorer members of society.
They promises things they can't. They promise healing powers. Peter Popoff, for one, claimed that God was speaking directly to him. He seemed to divinely know the names of members of his audience, their addresses, their afflictions, and he used the intensity of his personality to make people believe he could heal them without medicine. He was exposed as a fake on Johnny Carson's show when debunker James Randi proved that Peter Popoff wasn't hearing the voice of God, but hearing the voice of his wife feeding him information through a tiny ear piece. Information she got from prayer cards and info cards filled out by audience members.
These are the charlatans of our time. Purveyors of a billion dollar industry that strips away the dignity of its followers along with their money. Bakker embezzled from his organization. Oral Roberts claimed he needed 8 million in donations or he'd die - which got his followers cash flowing - Hinn made prophesy after prophesy that didn't come true in the mid-90s. Despite being proven time and time again that they have no magical powers, no direct line to God (anymore than any Christian would claim) they still have followings and still get boatloads of cash. What would Jesus do, right?
The question is not a matter of being disgusted by it all. That's easy. The question is, how can we combat it? Can it be combated? How do we see an end to people taking advantage of others in this way? Why, with all that science has given us, do people still believe that a $30 handkerchief from a television minister can cure Cancer?
How much further must we go before we leave magical thinking behind for real results?
We've been on this planet for so long, and we still fear the unknown so strongly that we choose to use voodoo and magic instead of trusting in the honesty and completeness of science and common sense. There are still opportunists that prey on the fears and misunderstandings, the wish-fulfillment thinking that pervades some people who have a desperate need for answers and an open pocket book.
Reflexology, Feng Shui, Crystal Power, Shakras, Magic Pills, Weight loss miracles, Telekinesis, ESP, talking with the dead, spoon benders - and the greatest hack, the most despicable opportunists in my book - televangelists.
Benny Hinn, Peter Popoff, Jim Bakker, Oral Roberts and others. Even though these men were publicly exposed as frauds, they continued to thrive and make money off of some of the poorer members of society.
They promises things they can't. They promise healing powers. Peter Popoff, for one, claimed that God was speaking directly to him. He seemed to divinely know the names of members of his audience, their addresses, their afflictions, and he used the intensity of his personality to make people believe he could heal them without medicine. He was exposed as a fake on Johnny Carson's show when debunker James Randi proved that Peter Popoff wasn't hearing the voice of God, but hearing the voice of his wife feeding him information through a tiny ear piece. Information she got from prayer cards and info cards filled out by audience members.
These are the charlatans of our time. Purveyors of a billion dollar industry that strips away the dignity of its followers along with their money. Bakker embezzled from his organization. Oral Roberts claimed he needed 8 million in donations or he'd die - which got his followers cash flowing - Hinn made prophesy after prophesy that didn't come true in the mid-90s. Despite being proven time and time again that they have no magical powers, no direct line to God (anymore than any Christian would claim) they still have followings and still get boatloads of cash. What would Jesus do, right?
The question is not a matter of being disgusted by it all. That's easy. The question is, how can we combat it? Can it be combated? How do we see an end to people taking advantage of others in this way? Why, with all that science has given us, do people still believe that a $30 handkerchief from a television minister can cure Cancer?
How much further must we go before we leave magical thinking behind for real results?
Why I Didn't Post in November
Happy November.
This month is a very special one for me - for the past several years, I've struggled alongside thousands of others in the pursuit of writing a novel during National Novel Writing Month. Like other celebrated months, it is a reminder of the joy of writing, but it's also an incredible challenge and thorn in the side for anyone who takes it seriously.
It's not a competition, but it has winners. The goal is to create a 50,000 manuscript within one month. That's roughly 1,667 words per day. For visual effect, that's 2 1/4 pages of type, single spaced or the size of a normal paper you'd write for a standard college course. You have to write one of those every day.
It's an excellent trial in a world without much challenge anymore. We have to seek out adventure in a way that many before us didn't. Our lives are so comfortable and yet there is an aching there to achieve something beyond the contentment that the world affords us with little to no effort. It is part of the natural human condition to want to push thresholds and break boundaries. The reason? You know that there is something more to yourself than what you know, and you're dying to find out what all is there. Knowing your limitations is a good thing because it means you've tested them.
Do you have a challenge in your life? Something that exhausts you? Something that you might fail at? I feel like that component is missing from our lives. We love the feeling of achievement, but we hate the challenge of getting there. Is there anything in your life that you would describe as 'daunting'? If not, you should find something as soon as possible.
I love this month because it is aggravating, destructive, maniacal, emotional, frustrating and beautiful. It shows that the process of creation is a terrible and awful process that leads, in the end, to something that didn't exist in the world before you put it there. Let that sink in. The universe was complete at any given moment - and you have the power to add something to it. To give something to people that they didn't have before.
There are challenges ahead. I hope you find them.
Good luck.
This month is a very special one for me - for the past several years, I've struggled alongside thousands of others in the pursuit of writing a novel during National Novel Writing Month. Like other celebrated months, it is a reminder of the joy of writing, but it's also an incredible challenge and thorn in the side for anyone who takes it seriously.
It's not a competition, but it has winners. The goal is to create a 50,000 manuscript within one month. That's roughly 1,667 words per day. For visual effect, that's 2 1/4 pages of type, single spaced or the size of a normal paper you'd write for a standard college course. You have to write one of those every day.
It's an excellent trial in a world without much challenge anymore. We have to seek out adventure in a way that many before us didn't. Our lives are so comfortable and yet there is an aching there to achieve something beyond the contentment that the world affords us with little to no effort. It is part of the natural human condition to want to push thresholds and break boundaries. The reason? You know that there is something more to yourself than what you know, and you're dying to find out what all is there. Knowing your limitations is a good thing because it means you've tested them.
Do you have a challenge in your life? Something that exhausts you? Something that you might fail at? I feel like that component is missing from our lives. We love the feeling of achievement, but we hate the challenge of getting there. Is there anything in your life that you would describe as 'daunting'? If not, you should find something as soon as possible.
I love this month because it is aggravating, destructive, maniacal, emotional, frustrating and beautiful. It shows that the process of creation is a terrible and awful process that leads, in the end, to something that didn't exist in the world before you put it there. Let that sink in. The universe was complete at any given moment - and you have the power to add something to it. To give something to people that they didn't have before.
There are challenges ahead. I hope you find them.
Good luck.
07 December 2007
A Cliff or a Slippery Slope
I really hate doing this.
A Baylor professor - specifically, a Baylor professor teaching at the Seminary school - recently wrote an article for the Baylor newspaper detailing how Atheism lacked a moral grounding. His ultimate conclusion was that atheists could be good people in spite of their belief and not because of it. It did not help his cause that his arguments were grounded in ignorance. It also did not help his cause that he opened the piece by saying he felt sorry for atheists.
Feel free to read the piece for yourself here, but be warned it's essentially a roll call of typical shallow points that have no real base in reality. It seems odd to write that in such lofty terms, but I can't stress enough how intellectually lazy this guy is. Perhaps if you've had these same thoughts about Atheism, I can help to enlighten you.
If you don't want to read it, I'll (poorly) sum up his main two points:
1) Atheism defaults to the Law of Nature - survival of the fittest - and cannot explain why humans should care for one another.
2) Atheism defaults to nihilism wherein there is no meaningfulness attached to life.
I cannot stress enough how patently wrong these statements are.
For starters, Atheism does not equate with Christianity, it equates with Theism. The easy way out would be to say that Atheism is not meant to be a moral structure, it is only a belief structure the way Theism is. Indeed, Christianity is a particular flavor of Theism which goes beyond saying there is a God to giving It creative powers, moods, expectations, a personality and a Book that It's written outlining how humans are supposed to live.
But Atheism does have some moral manifestations based solely on the belief that there is no God. The most prevalent is personal responsibility. Without a figure looming above, the onus is placed securely on the person's shoulders to exercise humanity. This is an incredibly moral imperative. But it's also a blank slate. Since there is no Book of answers on how to be human, the person must do the hard work of figuring out what that means.
Of course it does not always work. There are plenty of atheists out there who refuse or complicate that responsibility and end up utilizing its freedom without understanding or practicing its ethos. In the world's least surprising turn of events, some Christians don't either.
To directly confront the two points made in the article -
1) There is no "law of nature". There are laws of nature. Tying Atheism to Survival of the Fittest is one of the more laughable claims I've seen made. Atheism can explain easily why people should care for other people - because this life is all we and others have. To look pale in the face of your fellow man and deny that person's existence is something best left to the judgmental. Atheism in its purest form is non-judgmental because it doesn't seek to be. Without the threat of an afterlife, we have a responsibility to make this life as shining and brilliant as possible. We seek to make it better not just for ourselves, but for others. (And when has anyone really made life better for themselves without helping out others?) I could go on if needed.
2) Just because Atheism does not feature a parent-figure handing down a "meaning" of life does not make it nihilism. I find beauty and wonder in all things of this world. To use the basis of not having an afterlife again, I would say that my meaning of life stems from enjoying it to the fullest. Also, it's incredibly depressing to think that there's no meaning to life without God simply for the distinct possibility that one might not exist. I'm life affirming, and the meaning of this incredibly universe for me is not contingent on something that can never be known. To believe that there is no meaning to life without God seems to be the status of a man trapped by his belief - with no other alternative but to believe in God. I'm not sure what kind of belief that really is.
I know I haven't spoken much about my beliefs, and you might have questions. I'm open to all of them.
I also feel moved to thank you all for being in my life. I fear that without you, I would have a far grimmer view of Christians. You're shining examples of what Christ's love can do when it shines through. Know that.
Gotta get back to the grind. I've got a lot more of my meaningless existence to endure.
A Baylor professor - specifically, a Baylor professor teaching at the Seminary school - recently wrote an article for the Baylor newspaper detailing how Atheism lacked a moral grounding. His ultimate conclusion was that atheists could be good people in spite of their belief and not because of it. It did not help his cause that his arguments were grounded in ignorance. It also did not help his cause that he opened the piece by saying he felt sorry for atheists.
Feel free to read the piece for yourself here, but be warned it's essentially a roll call of typical shallow points that have no real base in reality. It seems odd to write that in such lofty terms, but I can't stress enough how intellectually lazy this guy is. Perhaps if you've had these same thoughts about Atheism, I can help to enlighten you.
If you don't want to read it, I'll (poorly) sum up his main two points:
1) Atheism defaults to the Law of Nature - survival of the fittest - and cannot explain why humans should care for one another.
2) Atheism defaults to nihilism wherein there is no meaningfulness attached to life.
I cannot stress enough how patently wrong these statements are.
For starters, Atheism does not equate with Christianity, it equates with Theism. The easy way out would be to say that Atheism is not meant to be a moral structure, it is only a belief structure the way Theism is. Indeed, Christianity is a particular flavor of Theism which goes beyond saying there is a God to giving It creative powers, moods, expectations, a personality and a Book that It's written outlining how humans are supposed to live.
But Atheism does have some moral manifestations based solely on the belief that there is no God. The most prevalent is personal responsibility. Without a figure looming above, the onus is placed securely on the person's shoulders to exercise humanity. This is an incredibly moral imperative. But it's also a blank slate. Since there is no Book of answers on how to be human, the person must do the hard work of figuring out what that means.
Of course it does not always work. There are plenty of atheists out there who refuse or complicate that responsibility and end up utilizing its freedom without understanding or practicing its ethos. In the world's least surprising turn of events, some Christians don't either.
To directly confront the two points made in the article -
1) There is no "law of nature". There are laws of nature. Tying Atheism to Survival of the Fittest is one of the more laughable claims I've seen made. Atheism can explain easily why people should care for other people - because this life is all we and others have. To look pale in the face of your fellow man and deny that person's existence is something best left to the judgmental. Atheism in its purest form is non-judgmental because it doesn't seek to be. Without the threat of an afterlife, we have a responsibility to make this life as shining and brilliant as possible. We seek to make it better not just for ourselves, but for others. (And when has anyone really made life better for themselves without helping out others?) I could go on if needed.
2) Just because Atheism does not feature a parent-figure handing down a "meaning" of life does not make it nihilism. I find beauty and wonder in all things of this world. To use the basis of not having an afterlife again, I would say that my meaning of life stems from enjoying it to the fullest. Also, it's incredibly depressing to think that there's no meaning to life without God simply for the distinct possibility that one might not exist. I'm life affirming, and the meaning of this incredibly universe for me is not contingent on something that can never be known. To believe that there is no meaning to life without God seems to be the status of a man trapped by his belief - with no other alternative but to believe in God. I'm not sure what kind of belief that really is.
I know I haven't spoken much about my beliefs, and you might have questions. I'm open to all of them.
I also feel moved to thank you all for being in my life. I fear that without you, I would have a far grimmer view of Christians. You're shining examples of what Christ's love can do when it shines through. Know that.
Gotta get back to the grind. I've got a lot more of my meaningless existence to endure.
Picket Fences
Imagine you're the ruler of a small country. You're benevolent, for the most part, everyone seems to be doing alright, and your government is a prosperous one.
But you've recently enacted a policy that has many of your people up in arms.
Would you listen to a protest?
The recent activity here in DC regarding the IMF and World Bank has people taking to the streets, and I'm wondering if it's completely fruitless. If it's all in vain. The central question that I'm wondering today is whether or not protests work.
It seems like there's a decent amount of examples on both sides, but it's clear when a protest fails. When a protest "works", it might not actually be the reason that an issue was resolved. Perhaps there were back door dealings, meetings, changes of heart. Maybe the protest was taking place after the government decided to change its stance.
There's a lot of money put into these things as well. A lot of time and effort by organizers. Is all of that just a wash? Would you even care to listen to a mob of strangers if you were running things?
This is our revolution, neutered.
Since we can't pick up arms against our government anymore - like we did in 1776 and off and on over the next 100 years - it seems like protesting is our way of walking up to the current power, pointing a finger at them, and yelling, "Bang!". It seems just as effective, too.
Have you ever protested anything? Or thought about it? Or been angry enough to?
Most of our founding political philosophers felt that the need for government came directly from a need to quell emotional responses. Instead of fire and passion, government should be built by reasoning and contemplation. Of course, Jefferson also claimed that a free society fed on "the blood of tyrants and patriots alike". The patriots he referred to being revolutionaries with weapons. I guess an even more overarching question (as I'm thinking about this) is one of how we change society.
How does one in the modern age go about affecting change on such a broad scale? If the world isn't turning out the way we think it should, are we powerless to stop it?
But you've recently enacted a policy that has many of your people up in arms.
Would you listen to a protest?
The recent activity here in DC regarding the IMF and World Bank has people taking to the streets, and I'm wondering if it's completely fruitless. If it's all in vain. The central question that I'm wondering today is whether or not protests work.
It seems like there's a decent amount of examples on both sides, but it's clear when a protest fails. When a protest "works", it might not actually be the reason that an issue was resolved. Perhaps there were back door dealings, meetings, changes of heart. Maybe the protest was taking place after the government decided to change its stance.
There's a lot of money put into these things as well. A lot of time and effort by organizers. Is all of that just a wash? Would you even care to listen to a mob of strangers if you were running things?
This is our revolution, neutered.
Since we can't pick up arms against our government anymore - like we did in 1776 and off and on over the next 100 years - it seems like protesting is our way of walking up to the current power, pointing a finger at them, and yelling, "Bang!". It seems just as effective, too.
Have you ever protested anything? Or thought about it? Or been angry enough to?
Most of our founding political philosophers felt that the need for government came directly from a need to quell emotional responses. Instead of fire and passion, government should be built by reasoning and contemplation. Of course, Jefferson also claimed that a free society fed on "the blood of tyrants and patriots alike". The patriots he referred to being revolutionaries with weapons. I guess an even more overarching question (as I'm thinking about this) is one of how we change society.
How does one in the modern age go about affecting change on such a broad scale? If the world isn't turning out the way we think it should, are we powerless to stop it?
05 December 2007
A Better Human Trap
Most of us have willingly gotten into a machine that could end our lives. It's steel and metal and travels at incredible speeds. It's surrounded by others just like it on the road, driven by varying degrees of talent. It is a calculable danger that we take almost every day of our lives. There are countless others just like it. But we trust in people.
So much of our lives is dependent on authority. We live a mass continuum of teachers and students, each playing the role for someone else. This is a major part of our lives that we pay no attention to.
You couldn't live your life without expertise. The room you sleep in, the things you have outfitted your living space with were made by someone with expertise in building things. The city you live in was created by a city planner and architects. Same goes for the roads, the buildings around you, the transit system, your car. These things would not be possible without authorities on the subject. If you attend classes, you willfully subject yourself to an expert, an authority figure with credentials to prove her knowledge.
The food you eat, the clothes you wear, the entire world you live in is due to experts. We have these things down to a science. Not perfection, just high-level understanding.
And for the most part, we never give these things a second thought. We bow down to authority fairly easily. We take what experts say at face value a lot of the time. The trout population in Lake Wimmons has grown over the past decade, you say, Mr. Scientist? Sounds about right.
We do this because we have no way of finding these things out empirically for ourselves. When the government tells us they have evidence that another country is working toward nuclear capabilities, we can't storm off and do our own research. Plus, we have an expert role to play in our lives. Being an expert has nothing to do with PhDs or lofty posts. Maybe you're an expert on relationships, on faith, perhaps you're an incredible listener or friend. These are their own expertises.
You are an authority on something.
I think the lack of questioning authority on a daily basis is encouraging. I think it shows not really a trust in people - since you don't know the specific team of people who put your car together - but a faith in humanity as a whole. It shows that we trust the system in place, we trust the idea of someone knowing things that we don't and agree to let them know those things for us. In a way, it's a collective brain that we're dealing with. I am fine not to know certain things because other people know them for me, and I can usually get the information if I need it. But I usually won't. I don't know how to build a car to make it safe, but I know other people do, and I benefit from it without even ever meeting the person.
It is trust without knowledge.
So much of our lives is dependent on authority. We live a mass continuum of teachers and students, each playing the role for someone else. This is a major part of our lives that we pay no attention to.
You couldn't live your life without expertise. The room you sleep in, the things you have outfitted your living space with were made by someone with expertise in building things. The city you live in was created by a city planner and architects. Same goes for the roads, the buildings around you, the transit system, your car. These things would not be possible without authorities on the subject. If you attend classes, you willfully subject yourself to an expert, an authority figure with credentials to prove her knowledge.
The food you eat, the clothes you wear, the entire world you live in is due to experts. We have these things down to a science. Not perfection, just high-level understanding.
And for the most part, we never give these things a second thought. We bow down to authority fairly easily. We take what experts say at face value a lot of the time. The trout population in Lake Wimmons has grown over the past decade, you say, Mr. Scientist? Sounds about right.
We do this because we have no way of finding these things out empirically for ourselves. When the government tells us they have evidence that another country is working toward nuclear capabilities, we can't storm off and do our own research. Plus, we have an expert role to play in our lives. Being an expert has nothing to do with PhDs or lofty posts. Maybe you're an expert on relationships, on faith, perhaps you're an incredible listener or friend. These are their own expertises.
You are an authority on something.
I think the lack of questioning authority on a daily basis is encouraging. I think it shows not really a trust in people - since you don't know the specific team of people who put your car together - but a faith in humanity as a whole. It shows that we trust the system in place, we trust the idea of someone knowing things that we don't and agree to let them know those things for us. In a way, it's a collective brain that we're dealing with. I am fine not to know certain things because other people know them for me, and I can usually get the information if I need it. But I usually won't. I don't know how to build a car to make it safe, but I know other people do, and I benefit from it without even ever meeting the person.
It is trust without knowledge.
03 December 2007
Stubborn Old Wounds
Continuing with the question of the meaning of life, I started wondering if religious people have already found it.
By all definitions, practitioners have. They live their life according to an ethos that they consider to be the Truth about reality and the correct way to govern life. I think that's one thing that's always felt off to me about practicing religion - there's a certain sense of being a finished product.
I realize that for some that sort of thing could put them on the defensive - we all want to feel like we're growing. Getting better. Moving forward. But realistically speaking, someone who practices a religion has already gotten life figured out.
Perhaps the meaning of life needs to be split up into two separate categories. One is an all-encompassing answer to why we're all here. And the other is a question of what your particular life is supposed to mean.
There's a tension in saying that you've got it all figured out. I mean, we all have to live by some directive. We've all got life figured out to the point that we can live it effectively. But the question of what one person is here for - that's something that could take an entire lifetime. It's something to grow in. Something to get better at. Something to move forward with.
A wise person once suggested that I read Lewis's On Obstinacy and Belief. I did. It was great. There's one particular section that seems to speak to the meaning of life - at least the meaning as interpreted by a believer.
Lewis describes the faith of someone in trouble - a dog stuck in a trap is one example - and the belief that although the person saving him is sometimes giving messages contradictory to common sense - i.e. you have to put your foot farther into the trap in order to get it out - the savior really does know best. According to Lewis, humans must live like that dog in the trap, assuming that the creator knows all things and has information that we don't. This is an illustration of the trust that must exist in the creator's plan.
So the meaning of life is essentially one of transferring the knowledge of the universe to a being that already has it and keeping a close eye and ear to what instructions that being has to give. And then following them.
I keep going back in my mind on how good an illustration that is.
By all definitions, practitioners have. They live their life according to an ethos that they consider to be the Truth about reality and the correct way to govern life. I think that's one thing that's always felt off to me about practicing religion - there's a certain sense of being a finished product.
I realize that for some that sort of thing could put them on the defensive - we all want to feel like we're growing. Getting better. Moving forward. But realistically speaking, someone who practices a religion has already gotten life figured out.
Perhaps the meaning of life needs to be split up into two separate categories. One is an all-encompassing answer to why we're all here. And the other is a question of what your particular life is supposed to mean.
There's a tension in saying that you've got it all figured out. I mean, we all have to live by some directive. We've all got life figured out to the point that we can live it effectively. But the question of what one person is here for - that's something that could take an entire lifetime. It's something to grow in. Something to get better at. Something to move forward with.
A wise person once suggested that I read Lewis's On Obstinacy and Belief. I did. It was great. There's one particular section that seems to speak to the meaning of life - at least the meaning as interpreted by a believer.
Lewis describes the faith of someone in trouble - a dog stuck in a trap is one example - and the belief that although the person saving him is sometimes giving messages contradictory to common sense - i.e. you have to put your foot farther into the trap in order to get it out - the savior really does know best. According to Lewis, humans must live like that dog in the trap, assuming that the creator knows all things and has information that we don't. This is an illustration of the trust that must exist in the creator's plan.
So the meaning of life is essentially one of transferring the knowledge of the universe to a being that already has it and keeping a close eye and ear to what instructions that being has to give. And then following them.
I keep going back in my mind on how good an illustration that is.
The Cold Start
Welcome to December.
We're at the home stretch here. In less than thirty days, there will be a new year for us to do with what we like. I've always had it out for new years. Mostly because of the complete arbitrariness of the whole thing. The Romans laid the foundation for the calendar cycle that we have today, but it could have been anyone. The names of the months could be different. The amount of days in each could be, too. And, most importantly, the start of the year could be sometime in March or June or August.
It's funny how much stock we place in it though, especially considering what we do for it. The celebration is one thing, but the social norm I've always found most fascinating is the new year's resolution. It is the idea that despite our failed attempts in the past and a lack of discipline, we can somehow find the strength to give up a vice or gain a virtue simply because there's a larger starting gun.
This is a prime example of what I meant when I talked about waiting for permission to live our lives.
The reality is, obviously, that you don't need a symbolic fresh start to change your life. In fact, most resolutions fail horribly because they exist only at a surface level. You could change your life today, this minute, if you wanted to. You don't really need a large holiday or fireworks to make it happen.
Something else will happen in less than 30 days. We will have known each other for six months. Half of a year. Some of you I've known for longer, of course, but if we're going to measure out our lives month to month, most of you will have been in 2% of my life. It doesn't sound like much, but think about how dramatically you've impacted my life, how much you've changed each other. And if you're really concerned about racking up large numbers - stick with me until I'm 80 and you will have been in 72% of my life.
Now is a time for thinking about how far we've come and how far still we have left to travel with each other. Think about how much you know about each other and the vast realm of things you still don't know. There is still so much left to explore.
In less than a month, there will be a new year waiting for us to attack it with gusto. But who says we have to wait that long to attack?
We're at the home stretch here. In less than thirty days, there will be a new year for us to do with what we like. I've always had it out for new years. Mostly because of the complete arbitrariness of the whole thing. The Romans laid the foundation for the calendar cycle that we have today, but it could have been anyone. The names of the months could be different. The amount of days in each could be, too. And, most importantly, the start of the year could be sometime in March or June or August.
It's funny how much stock we place in it though, especially considering what we do for it. The celebration is one thing, but the social norm I've always found most fascinating is the new year's resolution. It is the idea that despite our failed attempts in the past and a lack of discipline, we can somehow find the strength to give up a vice or gain a virtue simply because there's a larger starting gun.
This is a prime example of what I meant when I talked about waiting for permission to live our lives.
The reality is, obviously, that you don't need a symbolic fresh start to change your life. In fact, most resolutions fail horribly because they exist only at a surface level. You could change your life today, this minute, if you wanted to. You don't really need a large holiday or fireworks to make it happen.
Something else will happen in less than 30 days. We will have known each other for six months. Half of a year. Some of you I've known for longer, of course, but if we're going to measure out our lives month to month, most of you will have been in 2% of my life. It doesn't sound like much, but think about how dramatically you've impacted my life, how much you've changed each other. And if you're really concerned about racking up large numbers - stick with me until I'm 80 and you will have been in 72% of my life.
Now is a time for thinking about how far we've come and how far still we have left to travel with each other. Think about how much you know about each other and the vast realm of things you still don't know. There is still so much left to explore.
In less than a month, there will be a new year waiting for us to attack it with gusto. But who says we have to wait that long to attack?
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