I write this on the 64th anniversary of D-Day. That's appropriate for my topic. I've been reading everything Vonnegut I can get my hands on since I've been up here. I love the way he writes or, since he's dead, how he wrote. So it goes.
I just finished reading Wampeters, Foma, and Granfaloons, a collection of non-fiction articles, essays and speeches Vonnegut had written up to 1973. Though I love the man's writing, I can't abide his message, his vision. What was the message? What was the vision? The world is getting worse and worse and we are all doomed. And so on.
At the same time I loved that he tried to do something about it. He ranted and railed for us to change our ways to stop our descent. He was brilliant enough to coat his doom and horror with humor. Mary Poppins would be proud.
And through old Kurt's eyes he may have felt he were Cassandra, that no one listened to his TRUTH. I prefer to think he probably identified with Howard Beale, the Mad Prophet of the Airwaves, who built up a following by telling people the depressing reality of the way things are. Doom and gloom only hold people's attention for so long though. "A spoon full of sugar...," that wise woman repeatedly sang.
Part of what rubs me wrong about Vonnegut's TRUTH is that it is only partial and therefore propagandistic. We certainly are becoming worse and worse as a society if one looks only at our failures and short-comings. But that is only part off the story, as we all know. Our society has had resounding successes and possesses virtues. I don't wish to sweep our failures and short-comings under the rug; I merely wish that both sides be acknowledged so that I can make my point. Society is neither going up nor down, but forward. This is entirely sensible, I believe. If we ever want to continue to move forward, we must acknowledge both successes and failures, strengths and short-comings.
Awareness brings the possibility of control, I like to say, so it is only with a fuller picture of ourselves as a society that we can hope to lessen our mistakes and build on our achievements. It's a difficult accomplishment but one I think we're capable of making.
I've just written rather didactically about what "we as a society" need to do. I'm certainly no prophet and I'm no philosopher. I leave grandiose topics such as society to holy men and philosophers. I wish them the best of luck.
The only thing I can speak about with any authority whatsoever is the individual, and by that, of course, I mean myself. So here goes.
I have run across many armchair philosophers and pseudo-intellectuals in my short, but ever-lengthening, time on this planet. I ran across a group of them in the lobby of the hostel this evening. I can spot them easily. They are white, middle-to-upper class, and typically have enough college under their belt to be dangerous (to themselves). If they haven't had college, they've feasted on the fruits of their library cards.
At any rate, you can spot them by their message; it's fairly common and not particularly challenging; in fact they've simply confused bleakness with depth. Their message is this: life is meaningless and painful and anyone with any sense should be filled with despair at the injustice of it all.
In high school, these people were typically known as "Goths' and they carried as their banner their smug quotations from dead middle-to-upper class European men, which their immature minds had digested about as well as their bodies could digest pine bark. Those men all wrote when middle-to-upper class Europeans were the most powerful and blessed creations on the planet. At any rate, woe be to the Goths' peers who thought that life may perhaps, just perhaps, contain any goodness, no matter how small. "Automaton! Sheep!" Oh the condescension!
In college these Goths sometimes traded in their sartorial uniform of black everything to be taken seriously, having achieved at least the modicum of self-awareness necessary to realize intelligent people would find them foolish for talking about the sad, desperate, SOLITARY curse of life when the Goths and their friends were easily identifiable. At any rate, they put away their childish outward trappings, but still the message was broadcast triumphantly. Many may not have heard it because these now wayward "existentialists" chose only to expound their views around the likeminded, with the accompanying masturbatory glee that came with thinking they, and they alone, "got it."
I pick on my wayward brethren, these pretend existentialists, the Arrogant, I call them, but they are no more or less enfuriating and asinine than the other end of the spectrum, the Spoiled, not surprisingly enough also white and middle-to-upper class, who think, uncritically, that life is all flowers and sunshine.
The "truth" as I've seen it, as I've seen it throughout my life (and now I suppose I myself speak with the accursed, aforementioned glee) is that life is a great deal many things, to include horrifying, wonderful, meaningful, meaningless, and a host of other contradictions. I think I offer nothing new when I posit that life is what you make of it.
What do I make of it? What's my personal philosophy? First of all, I think objectivity is of paramount imporantance. Like the Arrogant and the Spoiled, I am a middle-to-upper class white. I am even educated, as imperfectly as I may be. My life isn't perfect and it isn't easy. No one's is. but I've damn sure got it better than most, better than billions on this marble of ours. I try not to lose sight of that.
I'm not a Sri Lankan whose world got washed away in the tsunami; I'm not an Iraqi whose family got killed by a bomber; I'm not a tribesman who had his hands cut off by a rival tribe; I'm not even an American high school drop out, working a dead-end, minimum way job, and living hand to mouth. I most certainly never stormed an impossible beach of bullets, shrapnel and death, watching my friends die all around me. I have it entirely too damn good to insult those who do suffer by either thinking I have it badly OR that life is just too damn stupendous for words.
My philosophy is that there is no wisdom, maturity, or heightened awareness in recognizing only the bad or good that life has to offer. My philosophy is that it's a sight wiser and more mature to count what blessings we have and to try and focus on the best, not worst that life has to offer. Good and bad are going to happen to us so enjoy as much as you can. There is ugliness in this world, and there is beauty; seek out the beautiful. There is unspeakable badness in people, and there is unbelievable goodness; appreciate the good and contribute how you can.
My philosophy is practical, I feel. Be nice to other people, even if they don't deserve it; especially if they don't deserve it. Don't be selfish. Help people if they're down; help people when they're not down. Try to make things better.
It's all very basic and not very exciting. It's not an original philosophy by any stretch of the imagination. For those inclined to believe such things, it's no less than what the son of God told men to do; he told men that for their happiness. For those disinclined to believe in that sort of thing, it's no less than what was obvious to an uneducated carpenter's son over 2,000 years ago; he told men that for their happiness. For those really disinclined to believe in that sort of thing, some nefarious pedagogical mastermind came up with it to keep men weak and subservient; it still makes a lot of sense and, however inadvertently, works for men's happiness.
So be it for the individual or society, I say to the Arrogant or any Mad Prophets, sure there's a damn lot to gripe about, but there's no wisdom or utility in only doing so. To only complain when so obviously fortunate comes across as the mewling of an ungrateful child. I say do something about it; find the good and do what you can to make things better.
I just finished reading Wampeters, Foma, and Granfaloons, a collection of non-fiction articles, essays and speeches Vonnegut had written up to 1973. Though I love the man's writing, I can't abide his message, his vision. What was the message? What was the vision? The world is getting worse and worse and we are all doomed. And so on.
At the same time I loved that he tried to do something about it. He ranted and railed for us to change our ways to stop our descent. He was brilliant enough to coat his doom and horror with humor. Mary Poppins would be proud.
And through old Kurt's eyes he may have felt he were Cassandra, that no one listened to his TRUTH. I prefer to think he probably identified with Howard Beale, the Mad Prophet of the Airwaves, who built up a following by telling people the depressing reality of the way things are. Doom and gloom only hold people's attention for so long though. "A spoon full of sugar...," that wise woman repeatedly sang.
Part of what rubs me wrong about Vonnegut's TRUTH is that it is only partial and therefore propagandistic. We certainly are becoming worse and worse as a society if one looks only at our failures and short-comings. But that is only part off the story, as we all know. Our society has had resounding successes and possesses virtues. I don't wish to sweep our failures and short-comings under the rug; I merely wish that both sides be acknowledged so that I can make my point. Society is neither going up nor down, but forward. This is entirely sensible, I believe. If we ever want to continue to move forward, we must acknowledge both successes and failures, strengths and short-comings.
Awareness brings the possibility of control, I like to say, so it is only with a fuller picture of ourselves as a society that we can hope to lessen our mistakes and build on our achievements. It's a difficult accomplishment but one I think we're capable of making.
I've just written rather didactically about what "we as a society" need to do. I'm certainly no prophet and I'm no philosopher. I leave grandiose topics such as society to holy men and philosophers. I wish them the best of luck.
The only thing I can speak about with any authority whatsoever is the individual, and by that, of course, I mean myself. So here goes.
I have run across many armchair philosophers and pseudo-intellectuals in my short, but ever-lengthening, time on this planet. I ran across a group of them in the lobby of the hostel this evening. I can spot them easily. They are white, middle-to-upper class, and typically have enough college under their belt to be dangerous (to themselves). If they haven't had college, they've feasted on the fruits of their library cards.
At any rate, you can spot them by their message; it's fairly common and not particularly challenging; in fact they've simply confused bleakness with depth. Their message is this: life is meaningless and painful and anyone with any sense should be filled with despair at the injustice of it all.
In high school, these people were typically known as "Goths' and they carried as their banner their smug quotations from dead middle-to-upper class European men, which their immature minds had digested about as well as their bodies could digest pine bark. Those men all wrote when middle-to-upper class Europeans were the most powerful and blessed creations on the planet. At any rate, woe be to the Goths' peers who thought that life may perhaps, just perhaps, contain any goodness, no matter how small. "Automaton! Sheep!" Oh the condescension!
In college these Goths sometimes traded in their sartorial uniform of black everything to be taken seriously, having achieved at least the modicum of self-awareness necessary to realize intelligent people would find them foolish for talking about the sad, desperate, SOLITARY curse of life when the Goths and their friends were easily identifiable. At any rate, they put away their childish outward trappings, but still the message was broadcast triumphantly. Many may not have heard it because these now wayward "existentialists" chose only to expound their views around the likeminded, with the accompanying masturbatory glee that came with thinking they, and they alone, "got it."
I pick on my wayward brethren, these pretend existentialists, the Arrogant, I call them, but they are no more or less enfuriating and asinine than the other end of the spectrum, the Spoiled, not surprisingly enough also white and middle-to-upper class, who think, uncritically, that life is all flowers and sunshine.
The "truth" as I've seen it, as I've seen it throughout my life (and now I suppose I myself speak with the accursed, aforementioned glee) is that life is a great deal many things, to include horrifying, wonderful, meaningful, meaningless, and a host of other contradictions. I think I offer nothing new when I posit that life is what you make of it.
What do I make of it? What's my personal philosophy? First of all, I think objectivity is of paramount imporantance. Like the Arrogant and the Spoiled, I am a middle-to-upper class white. I am even educated, as imperfectly as I may be. My life isn't perfect and it isn't easy. No one's is. but I've damn sure got it better than most, better than billions on this marble of ours. I try not to lose sight of that.
I'm not a Sri Lankan whose world got washed away in the tsunami; I'm not an Iraqi whose family got killed by a bomber; I'm not a tribesman who had his hands cut off by a rival tribe; I'm not even an American high school drop out, working a dead-end, minimum way job, and living hand to mouth. I most certainly never stormed an impossible beach of bullets, shrapnel and death, watching my friends die all around me. I have it entirely too damn good to insult those who do suffer by either thinking I have it badly OR that life is just too damn stupendous for words.
My philosophy is that there is no wisdom, maturity, or heightened awareness in recognizing only the bad or good that life has to offer. My philosophy is that it's a sight wiser and more mature to count what blessings we have and to try and focus on the best, not worst that life has to offer. Good and bad are going to happen to us so enjoy as much as you can. There is ugliness in this world, and there is beauty; seek out the beautiful. There is unspeakable badness in people, and there is unbelievable goodness; appreciate the good and contribute how you can.
My philosophy is practical, I feel. Be nice to other people, even if they don't deserve it; especially if they don't deserve it. Don't be selfish. Help people if they're down; help people when they're not down. Try to make things better.
It's all very basic and not very exciting. It's not an original philosophy by any stretch of the imagination. For those inclined to believe such things, it's no less than what the son of God told men to do; he told men that for their happiness. For those disinclined to believe in that sort of thing, it's no less than what was obvious to an uneducated carpenter's son over 2,000 years ago; he told men that for their happiness. For those really disinclined to believe in that sort of thing, some nefarious pedagogical mastermind came up with it to keep men weak and subservient; it still makes a lot of sense and, however inadvertently, works for men's happiness.
So be it for the individual or society, I say to the Arrogant or any Mad Prophets, sure there's a damn lot to gripe about, but there's no wisdom or utility in only doing so. To only complain when so obviously fortunate comes across as the mewling of an ungrateful child. I say do something about it; find the good and do what you can to make things better.
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