I lasted less than 24 hours in Gaborone. It is something like a Johannesburg in the sense that a western business sense seems to have been ushered in, which is possibly justified by many opinions that Botswana has 'the fastest growing economy in Africa', or something like that. But what does it mean for an economy to grow?
When I was in Lesotho, the individual that I spent my time with and stayed with his family once said to me 'Lesotho is a poor country'. I asked him why he said that, and noted that the notion of 'poor' is based on a western model of GDPs and capital, but Lesotho is, in fact, a rich country in the fact that it has sufficient land for its population and has a very agrarian lifestyle. I told him that money with only get you so far, as you cannot eat it. Those who control land and food production are the ones that will be guaranteed survival, as Tolstoy so aptly noted in his allegory Ivan the Fool.
One of the things that has really come to the fore, however, and really made me understand the situation in Africa, that is, the social situation in Africa, is what I can only best sum up as:
"Regardless of whether it is a socio-political challenge created by the environment one lives in or a personal challenge created and implemented by one on oneself, it is only when survival challenges an individual that that individual becomes and remains conscious."
By that I mean I realize why I enjoy Africa (and 'the developing world', like during my travels in Asia) so much more than 'the west' is because people are forced to be conscious so that they may survive in a socio-economic environment where survival cannot be taken for granted, as it too often is in the affluent west.
One can think about it this way: if one knows that all one needs to do is 'enter the system' and they will basically be guaranteed eight hours a day five days a week doing whatever but, importantly, making more than enough money to survive, there is no reason for that person to change their ways, unless they feel that there is more to survival than simply being able to afford whatever basic needs and luxuries that they should require.
And this is a vicious cycle perpetuated by the capitalist mentality, and exemplified by the fact that the names on people's lips are no longer the Platos, Leonardo da Vincis, Max Plancks, and Alexander Flemings of the world, i.e. those that contributed to our collective well-being through theory and practice. Rather, it is the Bill Gates's, the David Beckhams, the Justin Biebers, the Johnny Depps, and the American Idol winners of the world, i.e. those with power (in whatever form) and money.
This shows the dramatic shift that has occurred in the past century where capital has usurped merit with regard to importance to the 'random individual'. And because of this, there is an abyss that has opened up before us because, as Marx said 150 years ago, capitalism, which is based on profit, cannot sustain itself, because eventually there are no new markets that can be exploited for profit. This may be a blip in human evolution where a few decades or a few centuries down the road we realize the pointlessness, uselessness, and stupidity of following a track that is based on vanity and personal acclaim over merit, theory, and socio-political sustainability. The human race is at a very interesting crossroads. It is of my humble opinion that the current situation can be summed up best by a quote from Patrick Stewart (as Captain Jean-Luc Picard) in an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation:
"For us to go forward, the cycle must end."
Monday, June 27, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
On the Road
No, not the Jack Kerouac novel, but I dont have regular access to email as I've been running from pillar to post: Cape Town to Mafeteng (Lesotho) via Bloemfontein and Maseru, then on to Joburg where I stayed in Soweto (wonderful!! I think my new favourite intellectual pastime is walking through 'seedy' black townships and fraternizing with the locals) and now after a number of breakdowns, Im in Gaborone, Botswana. Off to Harare next week.
It's a rough life...
It's a rough life...
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Notes from a Small Country
It's been awhile since I posted, mostly because it's largely been business as usual around here now that university is out and Im preparing to spend my break in various other southern Africa countries.
Today, however, I had to go into town to do a bit of volunteer work with an organization that is trying to put together cheap high school textbooks to help get more people educated in a country where a lot of people have few resources, especially in the townships.
As I got on the train car at Rondebosch, I heard an all-too-familiar 'commotion' in the form of some random guy blithering on about how Africa must give themselves over to Jesus Christ and yadda-yadda-yadda. While I stood there, a guy opposite me was taking a bit of an interest in me. The usual 'icebreaker' followed: "Hey man, you know, you look a lot like... Him." I said "Yeah well..." because as much as my appearance has got me into many interesting conversations with many interesting people, most of them just sort of make that comment and it doesn't really go anywhere. But then he pushed to the 'next level' asking me if I was a Christian. And then we got into a discussion about religion. So I asked him what I usually ask these sort of people in true 'Fanonist' style: why is it that after being persecuted and enslaved for over a century by Europeans, and still to this day feeling a fair bit of animosity towards colonialism and neo-colonialism (with good reason), they find favour in 'the white man's religion'?
But this guy was quite smart and quite interesting. It turned out that he was from Gabon ("Libreville?" I asked, since I know all the capital cities) and then he started talking about the 'head of his tribe' in his village. I didn't know much of anything about Gabon, and he told me that he came from a village called 'Bongoville' that was named after this 'tribal head' who he described alternatively as his 'uncle' and 'basically his father', namely Omar Bongo, who ruled Gabon for 42 years from 1967 to his death in 2009.
What struck me most about what he talked about, however, was the manner in which he described the situation in Gabon in such graphic detail. I had used terms like 'fucked over' and such, and this guy proceeded to use the same sort of terms in such graphic detail that I didnt know whether he was speaking figuratively or was actually describing what happened. He told me something like "when the white men came to Omar Bongo and took him into the forest and fucked him [and he actually went through the somatic motions to go along with act], he didn't cry. He let them do it again and again, but he didn't say anything, because his sadness was inside him. Then when they were done with him and left, he told them when they came back that if they ever touched anyone else in his tribe, he would kill them [and here again he acted out a few mock haymakers]."
As I said, I didn't know anything about Gabon at the time, but reading the wiki article about Omar Bongo, it seems that Gabon had incredible wealth, which now justifies why he kept telling me how the faith in African people derives from the manner in which they have been blessed with resources, and that the people of Gabon strongly feel that they are, in some sense, 'chosen ones' because of the rich wealth that was bequeathed to them. He told me, in a way that very creepily reflects Sartre's declarations in the preface to The Wretched of the Earth, e.g.:
1961. Listen: ‘Let us waste no time in sterile litanies and nauseating mimicry. Leave this Europe where they are never done talking of Man, yet murder men everywhere they find them, at the corner of every one of their own streets, in all the corners of the globe. For centuries they have stifled almost the whole of humanity in the name of a so-called spiritual experience.’ The tone is new. Who dares to speak thus? It is an African, a man from the Third World, an ex-‘native’. He adds: ‘Europe now lives at such a mad, reckless pace that she is running headlong into the abyss; we would do well to keep away from it.’ In other words, she’s done for. A truth which is not pleasant to state but of which we are all convinced, are we not, fellow-Europeans, in the marrow of our bones?
He said that Africa in general is where things actually happen, that Westerners are basically zombies made content by wealth. That Westerners come to Africa because the peoples and cultures are interesting and beautiful to behold. That Africa is where all the resources are, it has been richly endowed with resources.
That is why people have faith, he says. Because they can see that they are in a privileged position, despite their history being sabotaged by economic crimes.
But it wasn't all fun and games. He told me with brutal honesty how as a young boy of around 9, he saw his mother raped and his village compromised. That there were definitely things that he had seen growing up that were filled with shocks and horror.
When I got off the train, I was already sort of 'late' to where I was supposed to go, but still I spent about 10 minutes standing at the train station listening to this guy's story. And then he told me about how he had actually fled from Gabon for various reasons, that people were looking for him for some reasons, that in his village and later in Libreville there had been problems, but I didn't really understand what was behind it all.
And then he told me he had to go to a class. He was being taught how to fight like Bruce Lee, so that when it came time for him to meet these assailants, he would be ready.
Today, however, I had to go into town to do a bit of volunteer work with an organization that is trying to put together cheap high school textbooks to help get more people educated in a country where a lot of people have few resources, especially in the townships.
As I got on the train car at Rondebosch, I heard an all-too-familiar 'commotion' in the form of some random guy blithering on about how Africa must give themselves over to Jesus Christ and yadda-yadda-yadda. While I stood there, a guy opposite me was taking a bit of an interest in me. The usual 'icebreaker' followed: "Hey man, you know, you look a lot like... Him." I said "Yeah well..." because as much as my appearance has got me into many interesting conversations with many interesting people, most of them just sort of make that comment and it doesn't really go anywhere. But then he pushed to the 'next level' asking me if I was a Christian. And then we got into a discussion about religion. So I asked him what I usually ask these sort of people in true 'Fanonist' style: why is it that after being persecuted and enslaved for over a century by Europeans, and still to this day feeling a fair bit of animosity towards colonialism and neo-colonialism (with good reason), they find favour in 'the white man's religion'?
But this guy was quite smart and quite interesting. It turned out that he was from Gabon ("Libreville?" I asked, since I know all the capital cities) and then he started talking about the 'head of his tribe' in his village. I didn't know much of anything about Gabon, and he told me that he came from a village called 'Bongoville' that was named after this 'tribal head' who he described alternatively as his 'uncle' and 'basically his father', namely Omar Bongo, who ruled Gabon for 42 years from 1967 to his death in 2009.
What struck me most about what he talked about, however, was the manner in which he described the situation in Gabon in such graphic detail. I had used terms like 'fucked over' and such, and this guy proceeded to use the same sort of terms in such graphic detail that I didnt know whether he was speaking figuratively or was actually describing what happened. He told me something like "when the white men came to Omar Bongo and took him into the forest and fucked him [and he actually went through the somatic motions to go along with act], he didn't cry. He let them do it again and again, but he didn't say anything, because his sadness was inside him. Then when they were done with him and left, he told them when they came back that if they ever touched anyone else in his tribe, he would kill them [and here again he acted out a few mock haymakers]."
As I said, I didn't know anything about Gabon at the time, but reading the wiki article about Omar Bongo, it seems that Gabon had incredible wealth, which now justifies why he kept telling me how the faith in African people derives from the manner in which they have been blessed with resources, and that the people of Gabon strongly feel that they are, in some sense, 'chosen ones' because of the rich wealth that was bequeathed to them. He told me, in a way that very creepily reflects Sartre's declarations in the preface to The Wretched of the Earth, e.g.:
1961. Listen: ‘Let us waste no time in sterile litanies and nauseating mimicry. Leave this Europe where they are never done talking of Man, yet murder men everywhere they find them, at the corner of every one of their own streets, in all the corners of the globe. For centuries they have stifled almost the whole of humanity in the name of a so-called spiritual experience.’ The tone is new. Who dares to speak thus? It is an African, a man from the Third World, an ex-‘native’. He adds: ‘Europe now lives at such a mad, reckless pace that she is running headlong into the abyss; we would do well to keep away from it.’ In other words, she’s done for. A truth which is not pleasant to state but of which we are all convinced, are we not, fellow-Europeans, in the marrow of our bones?
He said that Africa in general is where things actually happen, that Westerners are basically zombies made content by wealth. That Westerners come to Africa because the peoples and cultures are interesting and beautiful to behold. That Africa is where all the resources are, it has been richly endowed with resources.
That is why people have faith, he says. Because they can see that they are in a privileged position, despite their history being sabotaged by economic crimes.
But it wasn't all fun and games. He told me with brutal honesty how as a young boy of around 9, he saw his mother raped and his village compromised. That there were definitely things that he had seen growing up that were filled with shocks and horror.
When I got off the train, I was already sort of 'late' to where I was supposed to go, but still I spent about 10 minutes standing at the train station listening to this guy's story. And then he told me about how he had actually fled from Gabon for various reasons, that people were looking for him for some reasons, that in his village and later in Libreville there had been problems, but I didn't really understand what was behind it all.
And then he told me he had to go to a class. He was being taught how to fight like Bruce Lee, so that when it came time for him to meet these assailants, he would be ready.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Yourself? Or Someone Like You?
I was fairly sure the above title (minus the punctuation) was the name of an album by some cliche band from my school years, but it took me a google search to see that it was the debut album of Matchbox 20. Not a big fan, but whatever.
Given that there are final exams coming up here in Cape Town, I was asked by an acquaintance of mine (I'd hardly call him a friend) to provide my services to help him tutor math to some students, because he had 'opened his own tutoring company', but appears to be severely restricted in what he is able to teach. Of course, he has already revealed to me that his intention is to eventually run a company where others do the tutoring for him and he takes his cut. Not surprising given the general global economic attitude that I have criticized numerous times already, and definitely not surprising if you knew the individual in question.
Anyway, after struggling to get a time when we could meet, we finally met this morning. She picked me up in her brand new BMW, and took me to her very large apartment with an amazing view over UCT so we could do a bit of math. We covered some amount of math, and in between we chatted a bit about our various backgrounds, academic and not. I asked her the usual question of 'if youre not interested, why take it?' to which I got the common answer 'first I feel its important to be 'educated' and second because my parents want it that way.' Given the amount of wealth that her parents seem to regularly endow her with (her family is from Joburg), I understand that she would probably want to please them, though perhaps a heart-to-heart wouldn't be such a bad thing. After the session, I departed and we agreed to get together tomorrow to continue.
She also passed on my number to a friend of hers who was also struggling with mathematics, and after a bit of a mix-up in terms of where we were meeting, she picked me up in her Polo and took me to her (and her parents) place that also seemed fairly large and well-endowed.
But the second individual was much more interesting than the first, as she had revealed to me that she REALLY didn't like doing the accounting stuff that she was learning to the point where she wished she could study something else. This was after I told her about my academic background and such. We did some math and also chatted, as I had done with the other one, but it soon became evident that this second one was really quite sharp. She talked about living 7 months in Hollywood during her gap year and seeing the qualitative differences between the homeless in either place, telling me that growing up in Cape Town, she shouldn't be too shocked to see homeless people per se, but the manner in which a lot of them were basically victims of drug addictions brought on by the 'Ferris Wheel of Shit' led a certain tragic air to their predicament.
After these exchanges I thought 'wow, she is a pretty amazing individual in so many ways,' and, as often happens, I began to daydream, in this case about the plausibility of some sort of relationship. Not so much because I thought that I had any sort of hope, but more so because she seemed like such a cool customer.
But as I thought about more and more, I thought about the vast difference in ages (she's probably 19, while Im... well... several years older). First I thought of it in terms of social taboo, but then I start to think about it in terms of a more existential critique. I started to think 'well if I (hypothetically speaking) truly 'loved' this individual, then surely it would be one of the most selfish things I could do to demand some form of binding relationship with her'. The reason for this was because on the one hand I would be depriving her of the manner in which she is able to go out into the world with a natural curiosity and come to her own opinions and interpretations about it. I've already had one of the most existentially full post-high-school periods that has allowed me to come to a lot of my own conclusions about the world, etc., and so it would seem that there would be a certain 'existential lopsidedness' to such a prospect. If you have young people of about the same age together, they are on similar footing, with curiosities about similar things and how they should be interpreted, but if the difference in ages is several years, and you plan to have an extended time together, then there is definitely a certain 'information imbalance', whether that information is 'wrong' or 'right'. Along with that would come a similarly lopsided interpretative nature to it (so it seems to me), because without that period of existential curiosity, you become heavily dependent on others to interpret the world for you, something, for example, that arises in the educational relationships between parents and children, such as, for example, the daughter in one of my recent posts putting her very young brother on the spot about the existence of God. And suddenly this stream of thought turned into a tributary of a main river.
Just as Kierkegaard explained, in my opinion in a very accurate and meaningful way, the element of 'faith' in religion is the major cornerstone. However, if you come to that faith due to someone else's 'teachings' or 'arguments', then your faith is not in God, but rather in this person; i.e. this person, and not 'God', is your god, because your belief is in this person's rendition being accurate, and not about God directly.
Applying this argument to the above scenario, it seemed that if I was to spend a fair amount of the future with someone a lot younger than me, then surely they would have to be a very strong individual in order not to begin to become 'like me' in terms of my interpretations of the world, and the things that I value, given my 'experience' in traveling the world, studying a number of academic disciplines, etc. And indeed, for those sheep-like minions who refuse or ignore the call to critically engage with their environment, instead taking whatever hegemonic interpretation of the situation as the correct one, what sort of claim do they have to a 'self'? Because there is a space between their corporeal bodies, and so they are, at the very least, physically different? Can we say that these people are actually unique individuals, or simply approximations to other beings, as we would see the difference between the outer features and behaviour of, say, two house cats, but in the end we group them into the general category 'cats' and the role they play in the home?
It is interesting to see how the radicalization of individualism, as seen, for example, in Ayn Rand's 'Objectivism', actually seems to end up coming full circle back to a very un-individualistic social reality, where the pursuit of 'individual happiness' and 'rational self-interest' ends up being a constant fight to occupy the same rungs of the same ladders, with no one stopping to consider that their 'individual' self-interest and happiness might be dependent on a less orthodox social strategy than whatever social algorithm happens to dominate the present day (for us, it would likely be something akin to 'schooling', 'specialized schooling/training' (e.g. university, technical institutes, trade schools, etc.,), career, house, family, 1.7 children, retirement with occasional jaunts to Mexico or Florida to lie on the beach for no real purpose except to demonstrate that you can, death).
In fact, one can already argue that Objectivism was criticized sufficiently over half a century before its inception by Nietzsche. One could argue that 'The Last Man' described in 'Zarathustra's Prologue' of Also Sprach Zarathustra, could represent a world that follows Objectivism:
I will speak unto them of the most contemptible thing: that, however, is the last man!"
And thus spake Zarathustra unto the people:
It is time for man to fix his goal. It is time for man to plant the germ of his highest hope.
Still is his soil rich enough for it. But that soil will one day be poor and exhausted, and no lofty tree will any longer be able to grow thereon.
Alas! there cometh the time when man will no longer launch the arrow of his longing beyond man - and the string of his bow will have unlearned to whizz!
I tell you: one must still have chaos in one, to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: ye have still chaos in you.
Alas! There cometh the time when man will no longer give birth to any star. Alas! There cometh the time of the most despicable man, who can no longer despise himself.
Lo! I show you the Last Man.
"What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?" - so asketh the Last Man and blinketh.
The earth hath then become small, and on it there hoppeth the Last Man who maketh everything small. His species is ineradicable like that of the ground-flea; the Last Man liveth longest.
"We have discovered happiness" - say the Last Man, and blink thereby.
They have left the regions where it is hard to live; for they need warmth. One still loveth one's neighbour and rubbeth against him; for one needeth warmth.
Turning ill and being distrustful, they consider sinful: they walk warily. He is a fool who still stumbleth over stones or men!
A little poison now and then: that maketh pleasant dreams. And much poison at last for a pleasant death.
One still worketh, for work is a pastime. But one is careful lest the pastime should hurt one.
One no longer becometh poor or rich; both are too burdensome. Who still wanteth to rule? Who still wanteth to obey? Both are too burdensome.
No shepherd, and one herd! Everyone wanteth the same; everyone is equal: he who hath other sentiments goeth voluntarily into the madhouse.
"Formerly all the world was insane," - say the subtlest of them, and blink thereby.
They are clever and know all that hath happened: so there is no end to their raillery. People still fall out, but are soon reconciled - otherwise it spoileth their stomachs.
They have their little pleasures for the day, and their little pleasures for the night, but they have a regard for health.
"We have discovered happiness," - say the Last Man, and blink thereby. -
It is odd how this is, I must say; that the more people try to be different, the more they become like each other. But it is easy to see why this might be so, namely that they all have the same general goals, and there are only so many different permutations of how these goals can be reached. More risk may provide more benefit, but it usually leads to more loss; so instead of taking such a risk, too often it seems they just follow the well-worn path, leading to a highly similar behaviours, with highly similar paths, and, except for the lucky few, highly similar outcomes. Such is the price we pay for hegemony: our soil will one day be poor and exhausted, and no lofty tree will any longer be able to grow thereon.
And in this way, it seems that where individuals are at different stages in their lives due to differences in age, culture, academics, or some other such matter (and this is in general, not just as a byproduct of my particular reflections about the hypothetical scenario above), Sting's words do indeed ring true, namely "If You Love Somebody Set Them Free".
Given that there are final exams coming up here in Cape Town, I was asked by an acquaintance of mine (I'd hardly call him a friend) to provide my services to help him tutor math to some students, because he had 'opened his own tutoring company', but appears to be severely restricted in what he is able to teach. Of course, he has already revealed to me that his intention is to eventually run a company where others do the tutoring for him and he takes his cut. Not surprising given the general global economic attitude that I have criticized numerous times already, and definitely not surprising if you knew the individual in question.
Anyway, after struggling to get a time when we could meet, we finally met this morning. She picked me up in her brand new BMW, and took me to her very large apartment with an amazing view over UCT so we could do a bit of math. We covered some amount of math, and in between we chatted a bit about our various backgrounds, academic and not. I asked her the usual question of 'if youre not interested, why take it?' to which I got the common answer 'first I feel its important to be 'educated' and second because my parents want it that way.' Given the amount of wealth that her parents seem to regularly endow her with (her family is from Joburg), I understand that she would probably want to please them, though perhaps a heart-to-heart wouldn't be such a bad thing. After the session, I departed and we agreed to get together tomorrow to continue.
She also passed on my number to a friend of hers who was also struggling with mathematics, and after a bit of a mix-up in terms of where we were meeting, she picked me up in her Polo and took me to her (and her parents) place that also seemed fairly large and well-endowed.
But the second individual was much more interesting than the first, as she had revealed to me that she REALLY didn't like doing the accounting stuff that she was learning to the point where she wished she could study something else. This was after I told her about my academic background and such. We did some math and also chatted, as I had done with the other one, but it soon became evident that this second one was really quite sharp. She talked about living 7 months in Hollywood during her gap year and seeing the qualitative differences between the homeless in either place, telling me that growing up in Cape Town, she shouldn't be too shocked to see homeless people per se, but the manner in which a lot of them were basically victims of drug addictions brought on by the 'Ferris Wheel of Shit' led a certain tragic air to their predicament.
After these exchanges I thought 'wow, she is a pretty amazing individual in so many ways,' and, as often happens, I began to daydream, in this case about the plausibility of some sort of relationship. Not so much because I thought that I had any sort of hope, but more so because she seemed like such a cool customer.
But as I thought about more and more, I thought about the vast difference in ages (she's probably 19, while Im... well... several years older). First I thought of it in terms of social taboo, but then I start to think about it in terms of a more existential critique. I started to think 'well if I (hypothetically speaking) truly 'loved' this individual, then surely it would be one of the most selfish things I could do to demand some form of binding relationship with her'. The reason for this was because on the one hand I would be depriving her of the manner in which she is able to go out into the world with a natural curiosity and come to her own opinions and interpretations about it. I've already had one of the most existentially full post-high-school periods that has allowed me to come to a lot of my own conclusions about the world, etc., and so it would seem that there would be a certain 'existential lopsidedness' to such a prospect. If you have young people of about the same age together, they are on similar footing, with curiosities about similar things and how they should be interpreted, but if the difference in ages is several years, and you plan to have an extended time together, then there is definitely a certain 'information imbalance', whether that information is 'wrong' or 'right'. Along with that would come a similarly lopsided interpretative nature to it (so it seems to me), because without that period of existential curiosity, you become heavily dependent on others to interpret the world for you, something, for example, that arises in the educational relationships between parents and children, such as, for example, the daughter in one of my recent posts putting her very young brother on the spot about the existence of God. And suddenly this stream of thought turned into a tributary of a main river.
Just as Kierkegaard explained, in my opinion in a very accurate and meaningful way, the element of 'faith' in religion is the major cornerstone. However, if you come to that faith due to someone else's 'teachings' or 'arguments', then your faith is not in God, but rather in this person; i.e. this person, and not 'God', is your god, because your belief is in this person's rendition being accurate, and not about God directly.
Applying this argument to the above scenario, it seemed that if I was to spend a fair amount of the future with someone a lot younger than me, then surely they would have to be a very strong individual in order not to begin to become 'like me' in terms of my interpretations of the world, and the things that I value, given my 'experience' in traveling the world, studying a number of academic disciplines, etc. And indeed, for those sheep-like minions who refuse or ignore the call to critically engage with their environment, instead taking whatever hegemonic interpretation of the situation as the correct one, what sort of claim do they have to a 'self'? Because there is a space between their corporeal bodies, and so they are, at the very least, physically different? Can we say that these people are actually unique individuals, or simply approximations to other beings, as we would see the difference between the outer features and behaviour of, say, two house cats, but in the end we group them into the general category 'cats' and the role they play in the home?
It is interesting to see how the radicalization of individualism, as seen, for example, in Ayn Rand's 'Objectivism', actually seems to end up coming full circle back to a very un-individualistic social reality, where the pursuit of 'individual happiness' and 'rational self-interest' ends up being a constant fight to occupy the same rungs of the same ladders, with no one stopping to consider that their 'individual' self-interest and happiness might be dependent on a less orthodox social strategy than whatever social algorithm happens to dominate the present day (for us, it would likely be something akin to 'schooling', 'specialized schooling/training' (e.g. university, technical institutes, trade schools, etc.,), career, house, family, 1.7 children, retirement with occasional jaunts to Mexico or Florida to lie on the beach for no real purpose except to demonstrate that you can, death).
In fact, one can already argue that Objectivism was criticized sufficiently over half a century before its inception by Nietzsche. One could argue that 'The Last Man' described in 'Zarathustra's Prologue' of Also Sprach Zarathustra, could represent a world that follows Objectivism:
I will speak unto them of the most contemptible thing: that, however, is the last man!"
And thus spake Zarathustra unto the people:
It is time for man to fix his goal. It is time for man to plant the germ of his highest hope.
Still is his soil rich enough for it. But that soil will one day be poor and exhausted, and no lofty tree will any longer be able to grow thereon.
Alas! there cometh the time when man will no longer launch the arrow of his longing beyond man - and the string of his bow will have unlearned to whizz!
I tell you: one must still have chaos in one, to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: ye have still chaos in you.
Alas! There cometh the time when man will no longer give birth to any star. Alas! There cometh the time of the most despicable man, who can no longer despise himself.
Lo! I show you the Last Man.
"What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?" - so asketh the Last Man and blinketh.
The earth hath then become small, and on it there hoppeth the Last Man who maketh everything small. His species is ineradicable like that of the ground-flea; the Last Man liveth longest.
"We have discovered happiness" - say the Last Man, and blink thereby.
They have left the regions where it is hard to live; for they need warmth. One still loveth one's neighbour and rubbeth against him; for one needeth warmth.
Turning ill and being distrustful, they consider sinful: they walk warily. He is a fool who still stumbleth over stones or men!
A little poison now and then: that maketh pleasant dreams. And much poison at last for a pleasant death.
One still worketh, for work is a pastime. But one is careful lest the pastime should hurt one.
One no longer becometh poor or rich; both are too burdensome. Who still wanteth to rule? Who still wanteth to obey? Both are too burdensome.
No shepherd, and one herd! Everyone wanteth the same; everyone is equal: he who hath other sentiments goeth voluntarily into the madhouse.
"Formerly all the world was insane," - say the subtlest of them, and blink thereby.
They are clever and know all that hath happened: so there is no end to their raillery. People still fall out, but are soon reconciled - otherwise it spoileth their stomachs.
They have their little pleasures for the day, and their little pleasures for the night, but they have a regard for health.
"We have discovered happiness," - say the Last Man, and blink thereby. -
It is odd how this is, I must say; that the more people try to be different, the more they become like each other. But it is easy to see why this might be so, namely that they all have the same general goals, and there are only so many different permutations of how these goals can be reached. More risk may provide more benefit, but it usually leads to more loss; so instead of taking such a risk, too often it seems they just follow the well-worn path, leading to a highly similar behaviours, with highly similar paths, and, except for the lucky few, highly similar outcomes. Such is the price we pay for hegemony: our soil will one day be poor and exhausted, and no lofty tree will any longer be able to grow thereon.
And in this way, it seems that where individuals are at different stages in their lives due to differences in age, culture, academics, or some other such matter (and this is in general, not just as a byproduct of my particular reflections about the hypothetical scenario above), Sting's words do indeed ring true, namely "If You Love Somebody Set Them Free".
Monday, May 30, 2011
Trinkets, Baubles, and Good Luck
On Thursday I was standing in line at the Pick n' Pay deli waiting to order some food. I had just finished talking to a friend of mine who happened to be at the front of the same line I was in, when I heard something fall onto the floor. I thought I had dropped something, but it turned out that after just over 8 months, the strings of the bracelet I had been given by some random in Chandigarh some time during the second week of September had finally broken.
When I had joined my friend in Chandigarh after a hold-up of an extra night in Bombay when I was told that three weeks after I had booked my flight from Bombay to Chandigarh, Kingfisher had canceled the route due to lack of demand, and now I would have to fly the next morning via Delhi (those this was replacement was provided to me at no charge). Anyway, when I arrived, my friend was hanging with an Aussie gal that he had met in Manali, and we spent a couple of days in Chandigarh before heading back to Himachal Pradesh. During that time, we met a local gal from India who gave us her contact number, and the next day we met up with her she had bought us all little trinkets that were symbols of friendship. I forget what the Aussie gal got, but my friend got a neon rubber wristband, kind of like the Lance Armstrong 'Livestrong' bands, but instead it said 'Be my friend'; and then I get a wristband with five stones of a brown and white mixed colour tied together with strings. At first I thought, 'what am I supposed to do with this? This sort of thing really isn't my thing', but I tied it on anyway, and I hadn't removed it since. Not for sleeping, not for showering, not for playing sports, nothing. But in the last month or so, I saw that the strings had started to really fray and knew that it would be only a matter of time before it snapped off.
But it got me thinking, what is it that I will miss by not having this bracelet on? And then I got to thinking where the whole notion of lucky coins and rabbit's feet and who knows what else endows us with some notion of luck. Is seems like the reality of the situation is something akin to 'the magic feather' in the Disney's Dumbo, which the mouse uses as a psychological trick to convince Dumbo that he can fly. At a later time during one of the stunts, Dumbo loses the magic feather, but the mouse is able to convince him that it actually has nothing to do with the feather at all. It's simply to do with ability.
So how is it that we attribute our good fortune to the possession or lack thereof of some trinket? A lot of it is, of course, simply down to psychology. It is a sort of 'crutch' to give us confidence when we need it, and provide us with a means to exonerate us of responsibility if/when we fail. In a way, it works sort of like a horoscope. If you're horoscope is good, you will face the day with a positive outlook and try to make stuff happen, giving the best chance to get results. If your horoscope is not so good, you may end up approaching it as such and missing opportunities or rejecting them out of a certain amount of pessimism. However, as far as I know, most studies claim that if we lived our lives outside of knowledge of horoscopes, our success/fail rate would be pretty close to the good day/bad day rate that our corresponding horoscopes would give us. But then again, I can't really say for certain that the manner in which the stars interact has some bearing on the manner in which we function. However, given that the night sky is simply a projection of 3-dimensional space onto a 2-dimensional canvas, and the patterns between stars are based on our unique vantage point rather than anything else, and the fact that most forces have no real bearing on such large distances makes me think otherwise.
Let us take the case of the 'Bermuda Triangle', supposedly a place where accidents constantly occurred, and many vessels 'disappeared without a trace', leading people to speak of everything from violent storms to alien abductions. But, according to wiki,
"Documented evidence indicates that a significant percentage of the incidents were inaccurately reported or embellished by later authors, and numerous official agencies have stated that the number and nature of disappearances in the region is similar to that in any other area of ocean."
For example,
"When the UK Channel 4 television program "The Bermuda Triangle" (c. 1992) was being produced by John Simmons of Geofilms for the Equinox series, the marine insurer Lloyd's of London was asked if an unusually large number of ships had sunk in the Bermuda Triangle area. Lloyd's of London determined that large numbers of ships had not sunk there. United States Coast Guard records confirm their conclusion. In fact, the number of supposed disappearances is relatively insignificant considering the number of ships and aircraft that pass through on a regular basis."
It is at the basis of a common misconception which is various much related to the placebo effect: too often the events and evidence to back up our claims is more readily available because we are actually making a concerted effort to document them. People will say 'my horoscope says that I should have a good day', and the positives are taken out of it, and when you are supposed to have a bad day, the situation is reversed. In Adam Curtis' documentary The Trap (available in full on youtube), he talks about the number of people who suddenly started to diagnose themselves for psychological trauma when all they were doing was feeling normal emotions. And then it becomes a downward spiral; the anxiety heightens the more we look for evidence that there is indeed something wrong, which further exacerbates the wrong that we see.
For me, I strongly believe that we make our own luck. Of course, fortune and misfortune will always smile (or frown) upon us, but the more opportunities and options we give ourselves to succeed, and the less we rely on superstition to take responsibility from us, the better off we are.
And, ultimately, the luckier we become.
When I had joined my friend in Chandigarh after a hold-up of an extra night in Bombay when I was told that three weeks after I had booked my flight from Bombay to Chandigarh, Kingfisher had canceled the route due to lack of demand, and now I would have to fly the next morning via Delhi (those this was replacement was provided to me at no charge). Anyway, when I arrived, my friend was hanging with an Aussie gal that he had met in Manali, and we spent a couple of days in Chandigarh before heading back to Himachal Pradesh. During that time, we met a local gal from India who gave us her contact number, and the next day we met up with her she had bought us all little trinkets that were symbols of friendship. I forget what the Aussie gal got, but my friend got a neon rubber wristband, kind of like the Lance Armstrong 'Livestrong' bands, but instead it said 'Be my friend'; and then I get a wristband with five stones of a brown and white mixed colour tied together with strings. At first I thought, 'what am I supposed to do with this? This sort of thing really isn't my thing', but I tied it on anyway, and I hadn't removed it since. Not for sleeping, not for showering, not for playing sports, nothing. But in the last month or so, I saw that the strings had started to really fray and knew that it would be only a matter of time before it snapped off.
But it got me thinking, what is it that I will miss by not having this bracelet on? And then I got to thinking where the whole notion of lucky coins and rabbit's feet and who knows what else endows us with some notion of luck. Is seems like the reality of the situation is something akin to 'the magic feather' in the Disney's Dumbo, which the mouse uses as a psychological trick to convince Dumbo that he can fly. At a later time during one of the stunts, Dumbo loses the magic feather, but the mouse is able to convince him that it actually has nothing to do with the feather at all. It's simply to do with ability.
So how is it that we attribute our good fortune to the possession or lack thereof of some trinket? A lot of it is, of course, simply down to psychology. It is a sort of 'crutch' to give us confidence when we need it, and provide us with a means to exonerate us of responsibility if/when we fail. In a way, it works sort of like a horoscope. If you're horoscope is good, you will face the day with a positive outlook and try to make stuff happen, giving the best chance to get results. If your horoscope is not so good, you may end up approaching it as such and missing opportunities or rejecting them out of a certain amount of pessimism. However, as far as I know, most studies claim that if we lived our lives outside of knowledge of horoscopes, our success/fail rate would be pretty close to the good day/bad day rate that our corresponding horoscopes would give us. But then again, I can't really say for certain that the manner in which the stars interact has some bearing on the manner in which we function. However, given that the night sky is simply a projection of 3-dimensional space onto a 2-dimensional canvas, and the patterns between stars are based on our unique vantage point rather than anything else, and the fact that most forces have no real bearing on such large distances makes me think otherwise.
Let us take the case of the 'Bermuda Triangle', supposedly a place where accidents constantly occurred, and many vessels 'disappeared without a trace', leading people to speak of everything from violent storms to alien abductions. But, according to wiki,
"Documented evidence indicates that a significant percentage of the incidents were inaccurately reported or embellished by later authors, and numerous official agencies have stated that the number and nature of disappearances in the region is similar to that in any other area of ocean."
For example,
"When the UK Channel 4 television program "The Bermuda Triangle" (c. 1992) was being produced by John Simmons of Geofilms for the Equinox series, the marine insurer Lloyd's of London was asked if an unusually large number of ships had sunk in the Bermuda Triangle area. Lloyd's of London determined that large numbers of ships had not sunk there. United States Coast Guard records confirm their conclusion. In fact, the number of supposed disappearances is relatively insignificant considering the number of ships and aircraft that pass through on a regular basis."
It is at the basis of a common misconception which is various much related to the placebo effect: too often the events and evidence to back up our claims is more readily available because we are actually making a concerted effort to document them. People will say 'my horoscope says that I should have a good day', and the positives are taken out of it, and when you are supposed to have a bad day, the situation is reversed. In Adam Curtis' documentary The Trap (available in full on youtube), he talks about the number of people who suddenly started to diagnose themselves for psychological trauma when all they were doing was feeling normal emotions. And then it becomes a downward spiral; the anxiety heightens the more we look for evidence that there is indeed something wrong, which further exacerbates the wrong that we see.
For me, I strongly believe that we make our own luck. Of course, fortune and misfortune will always smile (or frown) upon us, but the more opportunities and options we give ourselves to succeed, and the less we rely on superstition to take responsibility from us, the better off we are.
And, ultimately, the luckier we become.
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Morals of the Wretched (Conclusion)
Well, it's nice to wake up for the second straight day to a fire-and-brimstone-free morning. However, there are likely a fair few (including Harold Camping) that are NOT waking up to an egg-on-face-free morning. Though I AM waking up to another been-to-Mzoli's-free day, as the plan for Sunday failed to materialize. Such as it is.
As I mentioned in my previous post, (oh, and by the way, here is the B.I.N. Laden parody I mentioned), we were supposed to experience the end of the world on Saturday. It failed to materialize (as far as I can see, though it seems people continue to justify that there was an apocalypse in SOME domain and the world will, indeed, end on October 21... after what will likely be a disappointingly tame six months of fire and brimstone), and there a fair few articles about the after-effects, but one of the most interesting articles includes a psychologist's assessment:
"It's very hard for us to say, 'Boy, was I stupid!' " says Elliot Aronson, a prominent psychologist and co-author of the book Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me): Why We Justify Foolish Beliefs, Bad Decisions, And Hurtful Acts.
"The more committed a person is to their prophecy," he says, "the more likely they are to justify that action, and to try to convince people that their belief was in some way right or good."
I mention that simply because a lot of what I have talked about during this thread has to do with psychology and its 'consequences. So with that in mind, let's move on to the two anecdotes I promised:
The first involves a family I stayed with in Elsiesrivier, one of the more notoriously dangerous 'coloured' suburbs in Cape Town. Because the train ends early and the taxi service ends early, there were more than a few instances where I had to walk about twenty blocks through said 'notorious' neighbourhood to get back to where I was staying, and when I arrived safely, it was always 'a miracle' that I survived. But that's not really the story; it just sets the tone.
This family is devoutly Christian. The father is born-again, or some such, saying that he turned to it as a means to getting his anger and violence in check. And from the stories I've heard he's a pretty crazy mofo telling me about numerous times when he let his fists do the talking with some fairly extreme consequences for others (he kind of has to being a white South African in a coloured neighbourhood) and also about the insane shit that he went through while 'fighting the Cubans in Angola' during the early 80s.
Anyway, during one exchange about religion, I was pressed about whether or not I believed in God. I replied that I had no opinion. I was told that that is not possible. I replied that I don't know enough about it to conclude one way or the other, so I just let it be; at the end of the day, whether God exists or not is beyond my comprehension, and it won't affect the way I live my life, so who cares? Just like I don't know enough about quantum physics or string theory or M-theory or the Higgs Boson or who knows what else to have an opinion. Why is it that the existence of God seems to be the one highly contentious metaphysical issue in the world that you have to have an opinion on??
So anyway, as a demonstration of my apparent 'stupidity', the daughter of 17 called in the 5 to come into the room. And she proceeded to put him on the spot: "Wilfred, does God exist?" He had a very wide-eyed anxious look on his face, and didn't answer. She repeated the question. Still the only response was him searching the eyes of everybody in the room (the sister, the mother, and I, all of whom he knew quite well and was very comfortable around by the time). After a third time, he let out a barely audible, totally unconfident 'yeaaaahhhh'. He was then sent from the room and the daughter triumphantly declared, 'there, you see? A 5-year-old!' I could have gone on and told her how completely ridiculous this 'proof' was, but I decided to save my breath because I knew I wouldn't get anywhere. Whenever I need some sort of religious insight, I always turn to Herr Kierkegaard, and this instance is no exception:
"If you want to be loathsome to God, just run with the herd."
"The self-assured believer is a greater sinner in the eyes of God than the troubled disbeliever."
But the inquiries kept coming as to how I could not be religious. So one day, I sat down at my laptop, and composed a brief text file, which was basically an outline of the argument put forward by Nietzsche in 'The Genealogy of Morals' that I've already briefly summarized in Part I. After reading through it, the mother said something to the effect of 'if I didn't know you better, I would think that the Devil was in you'. And I immediately launched my usual counter-attack to these sorts of absurd allegations, namely if the sole purpose of the Devil is to corrupt Christians, then surely he would have been clever enough to write a book, claim it was actually written by God, and have all Christians follow it blindly...
Anyway, perhaps the ending of that was rather anti-climactic. I find most religious debates are, since it usually ends with people agreeing to disagree because neither will budge from their position. But let me speak of another thing that happened to me, the irony of which was so incredibly amusing, and everything set up so incredibly perfectly, if anything would have made me religious it would have been that. But then the way Christians proclaim God as dolefully caring and just, rather than a trickster having a rich sense of humour, the god I would be forced to believe in would be nothing like that. If anything I would have to choose a Loki-esque god. But anyway, here goes (this is a cut-and-paste job I sent to a friend of mine from back in January):
A few days ago I had to invigilate on a math exam. When it ended at 7PM I headed to the train station. There, a man with few teeth and whom age had seemingly not been kind to poked his head around the corner and told me that when he saw me, Jesus came to mind, and, predictably, started launching into a monologue that I have heard many times before wherein people talk about how much they had sinned in the past, then found Jesus and dropped all their bad habits because they had given themselves over to God, God was watching, God would judge, etc. So eventually the train arrived, we went our separate ways and whatever.
Today, I got on the train and found that this same guy was coming towards me trying to sell things to various traingoers (as many in this country do), but he hadnt seen me as he was too busy selling. And even despite the narrow passageway, he didnt look up when he squeezed past me standing in the middle of the aisle, but all the while I was observing him. Then a funny thing happened:
I was standing near the end of the traincar, with only about 4 people on each side in the seats between me and the end of the traincar. And as he got to the very end, he turned to a girl who had apparently asked for what he was selling, but instead of conducting himself in an appropriate manner, he took what he was selling (small sealed packages of razorblades) and made an attempt to place it between the rather massive cleavage that was hanging out the top of her shirt. She appeared very disconcerted about it and he quickly righted himself by jokingly saying 'no sorry let me place it in your hand, all the while sporting the sly grin of an old pervert'.
So of course I started to laugh inside at the irony of it: that he had basically confessed to me as if I was Jesus one day, and then, after walking past me as if I wasnt there, proceeded to 'sin' in front of me, all the while, unbeknownst to him, 'God' was indeed watching.
So after this little episode, he started back, noticed me, asked if i remembered him and what we had talked about. I, still quite amused, said nonchalantly 'dont you think thats a bit hypocritical after that?' and nodded in the direction of the 'incident'. So he murmured some excuse that it was her who had asked him to place it in her breasts and he (gentleman that he was) had declined and placed it in her hand instead ('didn't you see?' he asked). After which he quickly changed the subject to loudly mentioning something about my apparent non-committal to religion and slunk away out of the traincar at the next station.
Maybe next time, he'll take a quick look about to see if 'God' is watching before he decides to 'sin' again, no?
As I mentioned in my previous post, (oh, and by the way, here is the B.I.N. Laden parody I mentioned), we were supposed to experience the end of the world on Saturday. It failed to materialize (as far as I can see, though it seems people continue to justify that there was an apocalypse in SOME domain and the world will, indeed, end on October 21... after what will likely be a disappointingly tame six months of fire and brimstone), and there a fair few articles about the after-effects, but one of the most interesting articles includes a psychologist's assessment:
"It's very hard for us to say, 'Boy, was I stupid!' " says Elliot Aronson, a prominent psychologist and co-author of the book Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me): Why We Justify Foolish Beliefs, Bad Decisions, And Hurtful Acts.
"The more committed a person is to their prophecy," he says, "the more likely they are to justify that action, and to try to convince people that their belief was in some way right or good."
I mention that simply because a lot of what I have talked about during this thread has to do with psychology and its 'consequences. So with that in mind, let's move on to the two anecdotes I promised:
The first involves a family I stayed with in Elsiesrivier, one of the more notoriously dangerous 'coloured' suburbs in Cape Town. Because the train ends early and the taxi service ends early, there were more than a few instances where I had to walk about twenty blocks through said 'notorious' neighbourhood to get back to where I was staying, and when I arrived safely, it was always 'a miracle' that I survived. But that's not really the story; it just sets the tone.
This family is devoutly Christian. The father is born-again, or some such, saying that he turned to it as a means to getting his anger and violence in check. And from the stories I've heard he's a pretty crazy mofo telling me about numerous times when he let his fists do the talking with some fairly extreme consequences for others (he kind of has to being a white South African in a coloured neighbourhood) and also about the insane shit that he went through while 'fighting the Cubans in Angola' during the early 80s.
Anyway, during one exchange about religion, I was pressed about whether or not I believed in God. I replied that I had no opinion. I was told that that is not possible. I replied that I don't know enough about it to conclude one way or the other, so I just let it be; at the end of the day, whether God exists or not is beyond my comprehension, and it won't affect the way I live my life, so who cares? Just like I don't know enough about quantum physics or string theory or M-theory or the Higgs Boson or who knows what else to have an opinion. Why is it that the existence of God seems to be the one highly contentious metaphysical issue in the world that you have to have an opinion on??
So anyway, as a demonstration of my apparent 'stupidity', the daughter of 17 called in the 5 to come into the room. And she proceeded to put him on the spot: "Wilfred, does God exist?" He had a very wide-eyed anxious look on his face, and didn't answer. She repeated the question. Still the only response was him searching the eyes of everybody in the room (the sister, the mother, and I, all of whom he knew quite well and was very comfortable around by the time). After a third time, he let out a barely audible, totally unconfident 'yeaaaahhhh'. He was then sent from the room and the daughter triumphantly declared, 'there, you see? A 5-year-old!' I could have gone on and told her how completely ridiculous this 'proof' was, but I decided to save my breath because I knew I wouldn't get anywhere. Whenever I need some sort of religious insight, I always turn to Herr Kierkegaard, and this instance is no exception:
"If you want to be loathsome to God, just run with the herd."
"The self-assured believer is a greater sinner in the eyes of God than the troubled disbeliever."
But the inquiries kept coming as to how I could not be religious. So one day, I sat down at my laptop, and composed a brief text file, which was basically an outline of the argument put forward by Nietzsche in 'The Genealogy of Morals' that I've already briefly summarized in Part I. After reading through it, the mother said something to the effect of 'if I didn't know you better, I would think that the Devil was in you'. And I immediately launched my usual counter-attack to these sorts of absurd allegations, namely if the sole purpose of the Devil is to corrupt Christians, then surely he would have been clever enough to write a book, claim it was actually written by God, and have all Christians follow it blindly...
Anyway, perhaps the ending of that was rather anti-climactic. I find most religious debates are, since it usually ends with people agreeing to disagree because neither will budge from their position. But let me speak of another thing that happened to me, the irony of which was so incredibly amusing, and everything set up so incredibly perfectly, if anything would have made me religious it would have been that. But then the way Christians proclaim God as dolefully caring and just, rather than a trickster having a rich sense of humour, the god I would be forced to believe in would be nothing like that. If anything I would have to choose a Loki-esque god. But anyway, here goes (this is a cut-and-paste job I sent to a friend of mine from back in January):
A few days ago I had to invigilate on a math exam. When it ended at 7PM I headed to the train station. There, a man with few teeth and whom age had seemingly not been kind to poked his head around the corner and told me that when he saw me, Jesus came to mind, and, predictably, started launching into a monologue that I have heard many times before wherein people talk about how much they had sinned in the past, then found Jesus and dropped all their bad habits because they had given themselves over to God, God was watching, God would judge, etc. So eventually the train arrived, we went our separate ways and whatever.
Today, I got on the train and found that this same guy was coming towards me trying to sell things to various traingoers (as many in this country do), but he hadnt seen me as he was too busy selling. And even despite the narrow passageway, he didnt look up when he squeezed past me standing in the middle of the aisle, but all the while I was observing him. Then a funny thing happened:
I was standing near the end of the traincar, with only about 4 people on each side in the seats between me and the end of the traincar. And as he got to the very end, he turned to a girl who had apparently asked for what he was selling, but instead of conducting himself in an appropriate manner, he took what he was selling (small sealed packages of razorblades) and made an attempt to place it between the rather massive cleavage that was hanging out the top of her shirt. She appeared very disconcerted about it and he quickly righted himself by jokingly saying 'no sorry let me place it in your hand, all the while sporting the sly grin of an old pervert'.
So of course I started to laugh inside at the irony of it: that he had basically confessed to me as if I was Jesus one day, and then, after walking past me as if I wasnt there, proceeded to 'sin' in front of me, all the while, unbeknownst to him, 'God' was indeed watching.
So after this little episode, he started back, noticed me, asked if i remembered him and what we had talked about. I, still quite amused, said nonchalantly 'dont you think thats a bit hypocritical after that?' and nodded in the direction of the 'incident'. So he murmured some excuse that it was her who had asked him to place it in her breasts and he (gentleman that he was) had declined and placed it in her hand instead ('didn't you see?' he asked). After which he quickly changed the subject to loudly mentioning something about my apparent non-committal to religion and slunk away out of the traincar at the next station.
Maybe next time, he'll take a quick look about to see if 'God' is watching before he decides to 'sin' again, no?
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Apocalypse How??
Last night I was watching 'Late Night News with Loyiso Gola', a South African spoof news show akin to Jon Stewart's 'The Daily Show', but with more SNL-type humour than Stewart, and, as far as I know, no serious interviews. I suppose more like 'Royal Canadian Air Farce' or 'This Hour Has 22 Minutes' (for those in Canada).
It contained a very amusing 'tape from the caves of Pakistan that not even the CIA had' that had a guy dressed in a white tunic with a beard singing a rendition of P.Diddy's 'I'll Be Missing You' SLIGHTLY MODIFIED as a tribute to his esteemed 'B.I.N. Laden'. I tried to look for it online, but I guess it isn't up yet.
The other thing that I was reminded of by the LNN was that 'the world is supposed to end this weekend'. I chuckled at this reminder. Ahh yes, May 21, 2011 is supposed to be 'Doomsday' or 'the rapture' or what not from some cultists, though it is rather interesting that these supposed 'Christians' which are supposed to uphold some notion of 'not sinning' seem to fly in the face of stories like "Every day Mr Camping, an 89-year-old former civil engineer, speaks to his followers via the Family Radio Network, a religious broadcasting organisation funded entirely by donations from listeners. Such is their generosity (assets total $120m) that his network now owns 66 stations in the US alone." (And just look at the ridiculously esoteric numerological justification for this date.) Though, of course, this is to be expected. While I was on a board reserved for politics (which I will withhold the name of to protect my identity...), someone had come on and posted the following:
"will you believe someone says today is friday the 13 so is expecting something bad to happen? but to me today is the day my Lord has made and i will rejoice and be glad in it"
I was a little disheartened that someone would post this on a board that was supposed to be reserved for more political posts, so I looked at this woman's profile pic and, having a very African name with the photo of a fancily-dressed white woman, I thought 'hmmm... perhaps I can exploit the opportunity to open the eyes of this victim of neo-colonialist idiocy' so I clicked on her profile and saw amongst her 'inspirational people' was one 'Joyce Mayer'. Comparing the photos, I was fairly sure that this individual was also the one posted in the pic. So I went on wiki to see who this person was. 'Ahh... an American evangelist is she? Hmmm... let's scroll down and see what money-spinning hypocritical scandals this evil imbecile is involved in, shall we?' So (VERY VERY PREDICTABLY) I was able to post the following cut-and-paste reply from wikipedia:
"On November 11, 2003, the St. Louis Post Dispatch published a four part series exposing Mayer’s "$10 million corporate jet, her husband’s $107,000 silver-gray Mercedes sedan, her then $2 million home and houses worth another $2 million for her four children," her $20 million headquarters, furnished with "$5.7 million worth of furniture, artwork, glassware, and the latest equipment and machinery, including a malachite round table, a marble-topped antique commode, a custom office bookcase, a $7,000 Stations of the Cross in Dresden porcelain, an eagle sculpture on a pedestal, another eagle made of silver, and numerous paintings," among many other expensive items — all paid for by "her ministry." The article prompted Wall Watchers (a Christian nonprofit watchdog group) to call on the Internal Revenue Service to investigate Meyer and her family."
Not surprising. As Søren Kierkegaard once said:
"The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly."
And who wants to 'act accordingly'? In my next post, I will finish the 'Morals of the Wretched' thread (because I know you're all in suspense!!!) with a rather amusing anecdote of just this type of hypocrisy. But anyway, enough about crooked iconoclasts and religious swindlers. Let's get back to the coming apocalypse, shall we?
Personally, this would be a very sad thing. First of all, we would never know how the Champion's League final between Manchester United and Barcelona was decided, but even worse than that, it would mean that I wouldn't be able to chalk 'go to Mzoli's' off my list of things I felt I should do (aka 'bucket list', a term I only came across recently, aka Murtaugh list, an inside joke that me and a friend of mine started throwing around while we were in India after a certain episode of 'How I Met Your Mother'), because I'm scheduled to go on Sunday. Such is apocalypse I suppose.
So what is this obsession with 'the end of the world', anyway? We already passed Y2K and 6/6/6 with little more apocalypse than, perhaps, a fit of convulsive laughter, which rarely proves fatal. Shouldn't these modern day Nostradamuses simply let bygones be bygones, sit tight, and just wait?
Well I suppose, in a rather cynical way, the obsession with the end of the world with respect to some people (like, for example, David Koresh, Jim Jones, and, well, Mr Camping) might stem from it being a VERY win-win situation. Either you are correct and you become some sort of demi-god or, more likely, you lose, but still have managed to hoodwink a bunch of fools out of millions of dollars. But this only appeals to the minority of shepherds. What about the sheep who are at fault for creating the personality cults and inflated Swiss bank accounts for these 'apocalypticists'?
Again, I can't speak for everybody, but I liken it to a similar story to that of the psychology surrounding a close football (soccer) match: your team is up 1-0 with about 5 minutes to go. A win will seal your club a first trophy in 35 years and finally cause a certain banner to be pulled down from the Stretford end of Old Trafford (no payouts for guessing what I'm talking about here...), but you NEED that final whistle to blow. And when it does, the sense of relief you feel after an 'all hands to the pumps' last few minutes needed to hang on passes and you hear that final whistle is amazing.
I believe it's the same thing. These religious people are in the battle of their lives, wanting the final whistle to go to end the world and make their devotion all worth while; to prove them right in their choice of following, and to end millenia of uncertainty. And, of course, to whisk them away from the difficulties of the real world to their idealized fantasies of heaven, where everything will be eternal bliss for them: 'I've done all this work, but when will I get my reward???'
The unfortunate thing is that it is not known when (or if) this final whistle will ever blow. We have December 2012 to look forward to, probably Easter of 2033 to look forward to, etc., etc. So long as people are desiring a break from the ups and downs of reality, there will be people who are only too happy to throw their weight behind some new-fangled cultist that declares such-and-such to be the day of rapture (and I can PROVE IT!!!).
Of course, if my laptop and I are not here on Sunday, but rather sitting in Limbo waiting for my turn to step up to the plate to be judged by an old ethereal bearded dude, I guess my dismissive cynicism will have been misplaced.
Still, if that happens, what will Herr Camping and Ms Mayer do with all their cash? They can't burn it once they see the heavens start to open up and pretend they were innocent of greed and swindling the world over. God is watching, remember?
It contained a very amusing 'tape from the caves of Pakistan that not even the CIA had' that had a guy dressed in a white tunic with a beard singing a rendition of P.Diddy's 'I'll Be Missing You' SLIGHTLY MODIFIED as a tribute to his esteemed 'B.I.N. Laden'. I tried to look for it online, but I guess it isn't up yet.
The other thing that I was reminded of by the LNN was that 'the world is supposed to end this weekend'. I chuckled at this reminder. Ahh yes, May 21, 2011 is supposed to be 'Doomsday' or 'the rapture' or what not from some cultists, though it is rather interesting that these supposed 'Christians' which are supposed to uphold some notion of 'not sinning' seem to fly in the face of stories like "Every day Mr Camping, an 89-year-old former civil engineer, speaks to his followers via the Family Radio Network, a religious broadcasting organisation funded entirely by donations from listeners. Such is their generosity (assets total $120m) that his network now owns 66 stations in the US alone." (And just look at the ridiculously esoteric numerological justification for this date.) Though, of course, this is to be expected. While I was on a board reserved for politics (which I will withhold the name of to protect my identity...), someone had come on and posted the following:
"will you believe someone says today is friday the 13 so is expecting something bad to happen? but to me today is the day my Lord has made and i will rejoice and be glad in it"
I was a little disheartened that someone would post this on a board that was supposed to be reserved for more political posts, so I looked at this woman's profile pic and, having a very African name with the photo of a fancily-dressed white woman, I thought 'hmmm... perhaps I can exploit the opportunity to open the eyes of this victim of neo-colonialist idiocy' so I clicked on her profile and saw amongst her 'inspirational people' was one 'Joyce Mayer'. Comparing the photos, I was fairly sure that this individual was also the one posted in the pic. So I went on wiki to see who this person was. 'Ahh... an American evangelist is she? Hmmm... let's scroll down and see what money-spinning hypocritical scandals this evil imbecile is involved in, shall we?' So (VERY VERY PREDICTABLY) I was able to post the following cut-and-paste reply from wikipedia:
"On November 11, 2003, the St. Louis Post Dispatch published a four part series exposing Mayer’s "$10 million corporate jet, her husband’s $107,000 silver-gray Mercedes sedan, her then $2 million home and houses worth another $2 million for her four children," her $20 million headquarters, furnished with "$5.7 million worth of furniture, artwork, glassware, and the latest equipment and machinery, including a malachite round table, a marble-topped antique commode, a custom office bookcase, a $7,000 Stations of the Cross in Dresden porcelain, an eagle sculpture on a pedestal, another eagle made of silver, and numerous paintings," among many other expensive items — all paid for by "her ministry." The article prompted Wall Watchers (a Christian nonprofit watchdog group) to call on the Internal Revenue Service to investigate Meyer and her family."
Not surprising. As Søren Kierkegaard once said:
"The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly."
And who wants to 'act accordingly'? In my next post, I will finish the 'Morals of the Wretched' thread (because I know you're all in suspense!!!) with a rather amusing anecdote of just this type of hypocrisy. But anyway, enough about crooked iconoclasts and religious swindlers. Let's get back to the coming apocalypse, shall we?
Personally, this would be a very sad thing. First of all, we would never know how the Champion's League final between Manchester United and Barcelona was decided, but even worse than that, it would mean that I wouldn't be able to chalk 'go to Mzoli's' off my list of things I felt I should do (aka 'bucket list', a term I only came across recently, aka Murtaugh list, an inside joke that me and a friend of mine started throwing around while we were in India after a certain episode of 'How I Met Your Mother'), because I'm scheduled to go on Sunday. Such is apocalypse I suppose.
So what is this obsession with 'the end of the world', anyway? We already passed Y2K and 6/6/6 with little more apocalypse than, perhaps, a fit of convulsive laughter, which rarely proves fatal. Shouldn't these modern day Nostradamuses simply let bygones be bygones, sit tight, and just wait?
Well I suppose, in a rather cynical way, the obsession with the end of the world with respect to some people (like, for example, David Koresh, Jim Jones, and, well, Mr Camping) might stem from it being a VERY win-win situation. Either you are correct and you become some sort of demi-god or, more likely, you lose, but still have managed to hoodwink a bunch of fools out of millions of dollars. But this only appeals to the minority of shepherds. What about the sheep who are at fault for creating the personality cults and inflated Swiss bank accounts for these 'apocalypticists'?
Again, I can't speak for everybody, but I liken it to a similar story to that of the psychology surrounding a close football (soccer) match: your team is up 1-0 with about 5 minutes to go. A win will seal your club a first trophy in 35 years and finally cause a certain banner to be pulled down from the Stretford end of Old Trafford (no payouts for guessing what I'm talking about here...), but you NEED that final whistle to blow. And when it does, the sense of relief you feel after an 'all hands to the pumps' last few minutes needed to hang on passes and you hear that final whistle is amazing.
I believe it's the same thing. These religious people are in the battle of their lives, wanting the final whistle to go to end the world and make their devotion all worth while; to prove them right in their choice of following, and to end millenia of uncertainty. And, of course, to whisk them away from the difficulties of the real world to their idealized fantasies of heaven, where everything will be eternal bliss for them: 'I've done all this work, but when will I get my reward???'
The unfortunate thing is that it is not known when (or if) this final whistle will ever blow. We have December 2012 to look forward to, probably Easter of 2033 to look forward to, etc., etc. So long as people are desiring a break from the ups and downs of reality, there will be people who are only too happy to throw their weight behind some new-fangled cultist that declares such-and-such to be the day of rapture (and I can PROVE IT!!!).
Of course, if my laptop and I are not here on Sunday, but rather sitting in Limbo waiting for my turn to step up to the plate to be judged by an old ethereal bearded dude, I guess my dismissive cynicism will have been misplaced.
Still, if that happens, what will Herr Camping and Ms Mayer do with all their cash? They can't burn it once they see the heavens start to open up and pretend they were innocent of greed and swindling the world over. God is watching, remember?
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