Today a news commentator said, "needless suffering" and it made me think that suffering is suffering because it is needless, in a way. I mean, it's because we ask, 'what if?' that we suffer -- because we can imagine another, possibly better in some way, state. Knowing that the outcome could have been otherwise, possibilities changed through some action of our own... that's the part that sucks big bananas. [I don't know either.] For example; If I absolutely had to cut off my arm - if I knew beyond question that I must amputate my own limb, I would do it without any regrets. No choice equals no problem. But if I wasn't too sure that I was doing the right thing, then there's no way that I could act with a clear conscience, or act at all, for fear of setting myself up for some bad thing that was formerly under my control (or under the guise thereof, yadda yadda not this discussion). Competing values are a bitch. That's the key -- the old free will vs. determinism debate. (I didn't say what I wanted to say about this topic. I suffer. ;p But what the hell, moving on...) That's why I like some existentialist thinkers. You make your own meaning; you give your life its purpose; (you are the maker of the Maker.) Or in Sartre's words, "Man is condemned to be free."
Condemned because he finds himself thrown into the world, yet free because as soon as he is conscious of himself, he is responsible for everything he does... Man is responsible even for his passions, because even his feelings are formed by his deeds. Freedom is appalling precisely because it means that there is nothing forcing me from behind, so to speak, to behave in any given way, nor is there a precise pattern luring me into the future... We are all free, therefore we must choose, that is, invent, because no rule of general morality can show us what we ought to do. There are no guidelines guaranteed to us in this world... There is an element of despair in human existence, which comes from the realization that we are limited to what is within the scope of our own wills...
The value of life is nothing else but the sense each person fashions into it. To argue that we are the victims of fate, of mysterious forces within us, of some grand passion, of heredity, is to be guilty of bad faith (mauvaise-foi) or self-deception, of inauthenticity.
This is the part I like to recite to my mother, because I like the blank looks I receive shortly thereafter:
A woman who consents to go out with a particular man knows very well what the man's cherished intentions are, and she knows that sooner or later she will have to make a decision. She does not want to admit the urgency of the matter, preferring rather to interpret all his actions as discreet and respectful. She is in self-deception; her actions are inauthentic.
"'You become what you are in the context of what others have made you'; nevertheless, within these limitations man is still free and responsible."
pretending to take religion seriously. incoherent anyway
Responsibility. That's what's missing from religion, at least in my hometown. People would rather not take responsibility for their actions and resultant life situations. For them, seemingly good outcomes are 'thanks to God' and not-so-great situations are 'all part of God's mysterious plan', which is all great and wonderful, but where do people come into play? Where's the creation and the excitement in life? Where is the responsibility and choice? With religion-logic, if I accomplish some great thing, do I get the credit? ('no.' well, only as the lightning rod for the materialization/manifestation of some greater force; sure sure, everything is one, remove the veil of maya...) If I murder a few locals, is it ultimately my responsibility? (religion says 'no.' and in this era, society'd be blamed, because individuals - especially in Canada - are viewed as social constructs to an extent that is communist-automaton scary.) If everything that happens is part of some grand narrative that I can never hope to understand, then I am going to enjoy myself, gosh darn it. Because it's all part of the plan. [insert tongue in cheek]
not off my soapbox yet
What happened to Canada? It is not a country. It is a liberal holding tank. Anyone notice the current SARS outbreak in CANADA? Whether legit or not, this whole episode nicely illustrates to the world Canada's assbackwards logic and lack of a backbone. Canada, or at least the big cities, is/are ultra liberal and all about defending individuals' rights. I'm thankful for the latter. Except there is not much of a balance, and now by overvaluing individuals' rights, the public's rights have been compromised. That Dr. James Young doofus individual announced that Canada suggests that individuals potentially exposed to SARS should voluntarily quarantine themselves. WTF? Simply put, Canada is scared shitless of offending any groups (except white people of course...) so we let in more flights from infected regions because public relations is more important than public health. I'm really pissed. (Angry, not drunk) :p
So what the hell else do I want to waste time writing about. My day. I saw 'Identity' and liked it. It was at the mall so I only paid $4.25 Canadian. *happy dance* I am such a loser. Last night I saw 'Phone Booth' at the regular theatre but didn't have to pay because McKenna knew people who worked there. Good deal. I just realized that my main friends are guys. That is sucky. [And not like that.] Normally no one EVER calls me, but today I spoke with four friends, all males. My mother is ecstatic. Anyway, I enjoyed 'Identity' more than 'Phone Booth'. Both are cynical movies with their own sort of polluted optimism. I liked the existentialist references in 'Identity' too... No, I will not lecture on that subject anymore. (No guarantees...)
I just thought of something else that's been bugging me - emotion... and my inability to feel. I don't feel. It seems as though nothing touches me and I am unaffected by everything. Like a zen buddhist and the non-attachment meditation, but it's something less.. like nothing really matters, but not like it's some deep spiritual 'coming-to-terms-with-reality' revelation . I'm detached, but not 'enjoying the illusion' anyway. And so I've been attaching way too much significance to trivial things that I know don't matter to me. It makes perfect sense. I cannot seem to recall the last time I had 'fun'. I'm rarely living in the moment; I'm not a real individual, I'm just playing out a role. On a happy note, none of this matters.
[laughter resounding throughout empty corridors.]
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