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Ah. The question of 'what is a human'?
Every day you develop and think and grow or age or decay you are becoming more human.
Younger people are not less human than you or I; but rather, less human than the human they will be.
Every cell in your body is human. But a human body is not a human.
A human is greater than the sum of his parts, and a partier on the greeting of his sums. The greatest time to part with a human is in the summer.
What a human is, is not a human being, but a human becoming.
Well, its a human 'being' too. But that sentence was just too good to pass up.
Being human ain't easy; but becoming human is being a human being. Is being a human becoming a human becoming?
Oh yeah, I guess it is. I just kind of wrote it down because it looked elegant.
We don't love the flesh, or the mind, or even the 'soul' as we might crudely put it; but love gives name to the thing which is unnameable, and that is the thing we love.
To wit; you love that which cannot be conceived by you, and in that way conceive it.
Of course, for every more excellent way, there is a more excellent way.
Oops! Quarter ran out. Later.
Every day you develop and think and grow or age or decay you are becoming more human.
Younger people are not less human than you or I; but rather, less human than the human they will be.
Every cell in your body is human. But a human body is not a human.
A human is greater than the sum of his parts, and a partier on the greeting of his sums. The greatest time to part with a human is in the summer.
What a human is, is not a human being, but a human becoming.
Well, its a human 'being' too. But that sentence was just too good to pass up.
Being human ain't easy; but becoming human is being a human being. Is being a human becoming a human becoming?
Oh yeah, I guess it is. I just kind of wrote it down because it looked elegant.
We don't love the flesh, or the mind, or even the 'soul' as we might crudely put it; but love gives name to the thing which is unnameable, and that is the thing we love.
To wit; you love that which cannot be conceived by you, and in that way conceive it.
Of course, for every more excellent way, there is a more excellent way.
Oops! Quarter ran out. Later.
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Cultural Carpetbaggers
11 min read
I had thought a moment, after observing the result of the elections, that there was something very telling and odd in some people's responses to Michael Steele (whom I voted for, myself.)
The most 'telling' thing? The term, (quite offensive) 'Oreo', used to describe what many people -- or some number of people at any rate -- thought or felt about Steele.
'Oreo' in other contexts of course is a delicious chocolate cookie with a cream filling. Or rather, two chocolate wafers with a section of cream. I digress. In this situation, it is a pejorative designed to convey the idea that a person's skin color is black, but they are a white person.
Which, to be literal about it, sounds about as stupid as saying the sky is red because it is blue.
But like most of these unusual things, there is something deeper (although still very shallow) going on. It is in fact, writ large, the re-definition of what 'whiteness' and 'blackness' really mean.
Quite simply put, 'white' and 'black' are to such persons, a multi-use container in which various ideas can be put, depending on the context.
But enough metaspeak, I mean simply that 'white' is not to the slurrer merely a skin color nor is 'black'. Instead, whatever culture that is preferred to be associated with the given skin color can be connotated with the use of the term.
To wit, to be black is not just a skin color, but a way of life, and likewise white fits the same bill.
This, of course, I think should be obvious-- is really mixed up. After all, to one who is conscious of the history of one's people, culture is a living thing, changing, breathing, adapting, and at times, decaying and dying. Culture is a mixture of ideas and memes and things passed from person to person through proximity of mind. Proximity that with increasing technology, becomes easier and easier to attain.
Backing up, I know that my 'culture' is a result of the mixing of various european ideas, whether they be those of French catholics or hugenots, German engineers, Scottish politicians, English poets, Black American musicians, and so on and so on. To call my culture 'white' is to try to put a really neat container on something that doesn't fit in that container. In the process, you have to cut off a bunch of parts that won't fit. Very feminizing.
To say then, that Michael Steele is 'white', or, rather, an 'oreo' is trying to say that because he doesn't act/vote the same way certain black people are, he is not culturally black.
Firstly, the only thing that is culturally 'black' is the culture that black people have, which coincidentally, like my own culture, does not fit neatly into a box. No surprises there, I'm afraid.
In this way, Mike is no less 'black' than Tupac, nor am I any less 'white' than Al Franken. Which then to me means that using any kind of annotative definition kind of disarms these colorems of their usefulness.
So what is being said here (again) is not annotative; Mike Steele is not an 'oreo' because, even, he is a culturally white person in a black person's body-- but because he does not fit the mold that is expected of him. If you try to extend the idea reasonably of what 'black' culture is, you end up with two definitions.
1. Black culture is 'ghetto'.
or
2. Black culture is whatever a black person's culture is.
'Oreo' seems to imply 1.
Knowing myself many Black Christians, I know that they don't live a lifestyle or have the ideas or opinions of the ghetto. Some might like soul food, others 'white' food. So in trying to define 'black' culture by a single group-- you cut off millions of black folks from 'blackness'. (Sorry about the excess of scare quotes.)
So, if a black person goes somewhere, like India, and lives there for 20 years, becomes a hindu, and comes to adore indian food, they are suddenly not black?
It's a useless argument, though, before I go further, because it is cyclical. At some point, a few paragraphs down, I would come to the miraculous conclusion that what was going on was actually group politics in the service of power acquisition. Then, we would find that the use of that idea would serve to further ghettoize culture, reinforcing the idea that 'blackness' is something of substance, which in turn would enable more power-grabbers.
But how is it, then, that so many people don't know this?
I would assert that it is simply this: This idea: 'blackness' or 'group identity' has attached itself to the egos, or collective ego, or both, of certain segments of the population. The way I see it, now come with me here, is that it requires some kind of 'hook' to hold on so tightly. For the purposes of this short analysis, I won't make much of a distinction between group/individual ego/will, simply because in the tribalistic sense they are one.
What's going on is this-- we all understand on a fundamental level, that when someone gives something to us, we owe them back. Good givers don't worry about recompense, and good receivers charge themselves interest. Regardless, all relationships are based on some kind of giving/receiving. The Japanese concept of 'on' (long o.) embodies this: our debt to society.
The hook for the tribalism is then, no matter how crappy you think your own culture is, there's still the concept that you helped raise each other's children (even if, like in the modern world, you didn't!) In this way, everyone kind of owes their own a bit. To be in all appearances a member of a certain culture, but be of a different culture, seems to the tribal mind like a form of carpetbagging. By joining a culture that 'didn't raise you', you sort of abandon your responsibilities to your peers.
Naturally, this is not what is really going on, -- of anyone, Michael Steele would be the most likely to return with great interest the gifts he accrued growing up.
And in fact, the 'oreo' crack probably results from the frustration of someone who -doesn't- owe the 'culture' anything still benefitting from certain things, one of which is being a minority (in this country, anyway.)
So in this case, Steele's parents or grandparents were the carpetbaggers-- leaving the 'black' culture for the 'white' one to take advantage of its benefits. Supposedly, though. I haven't heard much about how great it is to be white from almost everyone I've ever known. So as for that White priviledge, it appears to be hiding somewhere, because I haven't seen it.
This is the way the more emotional set paints it, unwilling to rise above and realise that Steele, no matter how 'white' he seems, is a member of a new culture that is neither white nor black, but simply american. A true culture is not a blending or a compartmentalization, but an act of syzygy, the most profound but simple fusion.
Which is to say, culturally, given our little 'black and 'white' culturally summaries, is BOTH black and white, which in all cases makes him American.
He's not black on tuesdays and white on wednesdays, but constantly both, and always American. I remember someone I know was very infuriated by my decision to play organ at a black church-- like I was some kind of carpetbagger! How could I dare, as a white person, be an 'uh oh oreo'? (The backwards oreo, which is vanilla wafer on the outside with chocolate on the inside.)
The response was oddly similar to the way Steele was treated. This backwards person would have said: "We're just different, deep down, not compatible at all. That's just the way it is." As though that settled the matter. But the reality is we aren't incontrivertably different, if for no other reason than we all come from the same common ancestor.
To argue that colorblindness is preferable is also foolish. Colorblindness and diversity are both deaf, dumb and blind. Colorblindness blends all colors into one, missing the 'diversity' and real problems still present in skin color issues. 'Diversity' seeks to establish artificial barriers around differences, dividing them much in the way a psychotic dismembers the bodies of his victims.
If we are all americans, which I know that we are, then aside from differences in speech and habits, (and color of skin) there is nothing incompatible about our cultures at all. One could like soul food and 'home cookin'. One could enjoy both black Gospel and old Catholic chants.
Is Steele's apparent 'whiteness' what really bothers these people (most of whom, by the way, are themselves white. But nevermind that.) but in fact what bothers them is that Steele transcends color while at the same time being colored.
Yep, to boil it down-- white liberals think its no fair that Steel gets to be both white and black and at the same time something bigger than both of them.
Or perhaps, even deeper, they fear it.
---
On Jazz
Anyone who likes American music has a little bit of black in them, whether they like it or not. Because deny it or not, American Blacks were given lemons, and made the damn best sounding lemonade anyone'd ever heard.
And by the way, in case nobody figured it out-- Jazz is the new classical. In the days of the classics, musicians were servants. In the days of Jazz, the innovators themselves were little more than servants either.
A harmonic examination of mozart reveals simplicity and beauty. And yet, people complain that blues is so simple. Guess they're just afraid that the new classic was born, and they weren't the ones who birthed it. Really all that needed to happen, was to take the refined elegance of the classical and combine it with the sincere simplicity of African music, and a new paradigm was born.
This paradigm did not abolish the tone center, nor rhythm, nor melody, nor harmony, but fulfilled them, freed them, and made them way funkier.
If asked what Jazz is, I simply say, "A state of mind."
In those stormy waters of urban unrest and world war and racism was born a new thing. As a star is born under great pressure, that great pressure, of cultural trouble and societal conflict, which was reflected in the troubled lives of many Jazz players-- created the necessity that people are so often unable to produce themselves.
The only music I admire as much as Jazz is Bluegrass, which is the fusion of simple American tradition with classical brilliance. You think its 'hick' music until you hear the real mountain music. A that point, you wonder (or I did...) how any man's (or woman's) fingers could move that fast, or that precisely. And spontaneous vocal harmony? Complex progressions over a simple framework? It's all there.
I don't know the history of bluegrass really, but the stories the songs tell are as full of trouble as those that the bluesmen sang. And that to me is telling enough.
Bluegrass has been lucky; it has been hidden from the scorching limelight of Hollywood - which makes it less appreciated by the common man perhaps, but leaves it more pure to its form and purpose.
And its purpose? Its not tame, and its never exactly what you want it to be. But like old blues and jazz, it is incapable of lying- and so tells the truth.
Even if that truth is ugly.
But that, they say, is that.
The most 'telling' thing? The term, (quite offensive) 'Oreo', used to describe what many people -- or some number of people at any rate -- thought or felt about Steele.
'Oreo' in other contexts of course is a delicious chocolate cookie with a cream filling. Or rather, two chocolate wafers with a section of cream. I digress. In this situation, it is a pejorative designed to convey the idea that a person's skin color is black, but they are a white person.
Which, to be literal about it, sounds about as stupid as saying the sky is red because it is blue.
But like most of these unusual things, there is something deeper (although still very shallow) going on. It is in fact, writ large, the re-definition of what 'whiteness' and 'blackness' really mean.
Quite simply put, 'white' and 'black' are to such persons, a multi-use container in which various ideas can be put, depending on the context.
But enough metaspeak, I mean simply that 'white' is not to the slurrer merely a skin color nor is 'black'. Instead, whatever culture that is preferred to be associated with the given skin color can be connotated with the use of the term.
To wit, to be black is not just a skin color, but a way of life, and likewise white fits the same bill.
This, of course, I think should be obvious-- is really mixed up. After all, to one who is conscious of the history of one's people, culture is a living thing, changing, breathing, adapting, and at times, decaying and dying. Culture is a mixture of ideas and memes and things passed from person to person through proximity of mind. Proximity that with increasing technology, becomes easier and easier to attain.
Backing up, I know that my 'culture' is a result of the mixing of various european ideas, whether they be those of French catholics or hugenots, German engineers, Scottish politicians, English poets, Black American musicians, and so on and so on. To call my culture 'white' is to try to put a really neat container on something that doesn't fit in that container. In the process, you have to cut off a bunch of parts that won't fit. Very feminizing.
To say then, that Michael Steele is 'white', or, rather, an 'oreo' is trying to say that because he doesn't act/vote the same way certain black people are, he is not culturally black.
Firstly, the only thing that is culturally 'black' is the culture that black people have, which coincidentally, like my own culture, does not fit neatly into a box. No surprises there, I'm afraid.
In this way, Mike is no less 'black' than Tupac, nor am I any less 'white' than Al Franken. Which then to me means that using any kind of annotative definition kind of disarms these colorems of their usefulness.
So what is being said here (again) is not annotative; Mike Steele is not an 'oreo' because, even, he is a culturally white person in a black person's body-- but because he does not fit the mold that is expected of him. If you try to extend the idea reasonably of what 'black' culture is, you end up with two definitions.
1. Black culture is 'ghetto'.
or
2. Black culture is whatever a black person's culture is.
'Oreo' seems to imply 1.
Knowing myself many Black Christians, I know that they don't live a lifestyle or have the ideas or opinions of the ghetto. Some might like soul food, others 'white' food. So in trying to define 'black' culture by a single group-- you cut off millions of black folks from 'blackness'. (Sorry about the excess of scare quotes.)
So, if a black person goes somewhere, like India, and lives there for 20 years, becomes a hindu, and comes to adore indian food, they are suddenly not black?
It's a useless argument, though, before I go further, because it is cyclical. At some point, a few paragraphs down, I would come to the miraculous conclusion that what was going on was actually group politics in the service of power acquisition. Then, we would find that the use of that idea would serve to further ghettoize culture, reinforcing the idea that 'blackness' is something of substance, which in turn would enable more power-grabbers.
But how is it, then, that so many people don't know this?
I would assert that it is simply this: This idea: 'blackness' or 'group identity' has attached itself to the egos, or collective ego, or both, of certain segments of the population. The way I see it, now come with me here, is that it requires some kind of 'hook' to hold on so tightly. For the purposes of this short analysis, I won't make much of a distinction between group/individual ego/will, simply because in the tribalistic sense they are one.
What's going on is this-- we all understand on a fundamental level, that when someone gives something to us, we owe them back. Good givers don't worry about recompense, and good receivers charge themselves interest. Regardless, all relationships are based on some kind of giving/receiving. The Japanese concept of 'on' (long o.) embodies this: our debt to society.
The hook for the tribalism is then, no matter how crappy you think your own culture is, there's still the concept that you helped raise each other's children (even if, like in the modern world, you didn't!) In this way, everyone kind of owes their own a bit. To be in all appearances a member of a certain culture, but be of a different culture, seems to the tribal mind like a form of carpetbagging. By joining a culture that 'didn't raise you', you sort of abandon your responsibilities to your peers.
Naturally, this is not what is really going on, -- of anyone, Michael Steele would be the most likely to return with great interest the gifts he accrued growing up.
And in fact, the 'oreo' crack probably results from the frustration of someone who -doesn't- owe the 'culture' anything still benefitting from certain things, one of which is being a minority (in this country, anyway.)
So in this case, Steele's parents or grandparents were the carpetbaggers-- leaving the 'black' culture for the 'white' one to take advantage of its benefits. Supposedly, though. I haven't heard much about how great it is to be white from almost everyone I've ever known. So as for that White priviledge, it appears to be hiding somewhere, because I haven't seen it.
This is the way the more emotional set paints it, unwilling to rise above and realise that Steele, no matter how 'white' he seems, is a member of a new culture that is neither white nor black, but simply american. A true culture is not a blending or a compartmentalization, but an act of syzygy, the most profound but simple fusion.
Which is to say, culturally, given our little 'black and 'white' culturally summaries, is BOTH black and white, which in all cases makes him American.
He's not black on tuesdays and white on wednesdays, but constantly both, and always American. I remember someone I know was very infuriated by my decision to play organ at a black church-- like I was some kind of carpetbagger! How could I dare, as a white person, be an 'uh oh oreo'? (The backwards oreo, which is vanilla wafer on the outside with chocolate on the inside.)
The response was oddly similar to the way Steele was treated. This backwards person would have said: "We're just different, deep down, not compatible at all. That's just the way it is." As though that settled the matter. But the reality is we aren't incontrivertably different, if for no other reason than we all come from the same common ancestor.
To argue that colorblindness is preferable is also foolish. Colorblindness and diversity are both deaf, dumb and blind. Colorblindness blends all colors into one, missing the 'diversity' and real problems still present in skin color issues. 'Diversity' seeks to establish artificial barriers around differences, dividing them much in the way a psychotic dismembers the bodies of his victims.
If we are all americans, which I know that we are, then aside from differences in speech and habits, (and color of skin) there is nothing incompatible about our cultures at all. One could like soul food and 'home cookin'. One could enjoy both black Gospel and old Catholic chants.
Is Steele's apparent 'whiteness' what really bothers these people (most of whom, by the way, are themselves white. But nevermind that.) but in fact what bothers them is that Steele transcends color while at the same time being colored.
Yep, to boil it down-- white liberals think its no fair that Steel gets to be both white and black and at the same time something bigger than both of them.
Or perhaps, even deeper, they fear it.
---
On Jazz
Anyone who likes American music has a little bit of black in them, whether they like it or not. Because deny it or not, American Blacks were given lemons, and made the damn best sounding lemonade anyone'd ever heard.
And by the way, in case nobody figured it out-- Jazz is the new classical. In the days of the classics, musicians were servants. In the days of Jazz, the innovators themselves were little more than servants either.
A harmonic examination of mozart reveals simplicity and beauty. And yet, people complain that blues is so simple. Guess they're just afraid that the new classic was born, and they weren't the ones who birthed it. Really all that needed to happen, was to take the refined elegance of the classical and combine it with the sincere simplicity of African music, and a new paradigm was born.
This paradigm did not abolish the tone center, nor rhythm, nor melody, nor harmony, but fulfilled them, freed them, and made them way funkier.
If asked what Jazz is, I simply say, "A state of mind."
In those stormy waters of urban unrest and world war and racism was born a new thing. As a star is born under great pressure, that great pressure, of cultural trouble and societal conflict, which was reflected in the troubled lives of many Jazz players-- created the necessity that people are so often unable to produce themselves.
The only music I admire as much as Jazz is Bluegrass, which is the fusion of simple American tradition with classical brilliance. You think its 'hick' music until you hear the real mountain music. A that point, you wonder (or I did...) how any man's (or woman's) fingers could move that fast, or that precisely. And spontaneous vocal harmony? Complex progressions over a simple framework? It's all there.
I don't know the history of bluegrass really, but the stories the songs tell are as full of trouble as those that the bluesmen sang. And that to me is telling enough.
Bluegrass has been lucky; it has been hidden from the scorching limelight of Hollywood - which makes it less appreciated by the common man perhaps, but leaves it more pure to its form and purpose.
And its purpose? Its not tame, and its never exactly what you want it to be. But like old blues and jazz, it is incapable of lying- and so tells the truth.
Even if that truth is ugly.
But that, they say, is that.
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My Kingdom for a Kingdom
5 min read
Let's start here.
World Government, like many other 'progressive' ideas, is something of a bogeyman for the right. We know this to be true, but why is it so? As far as imposing what you think is right on someone else, one might think that the right would love the idea of World Government. I mean, all you have to do is make it a theocracy, and the righties will jump right on board, right?
Ok, enough patronizing. The fact is, anyone who loves their own liberty, and the liberty of others, should be at the very least leary of a world government. My experience in dealing with what happens when one person takes leadership over one other person tells me one thing: Give the wrong man the right rope and he'll hang everyone with it.
The problem with World Gov't is of course identical to the problem with speed limits: there is something of substance to the idea, that is, a government with the power to keep certain nation estates and stateless notions in line.
But, the divide is simply this: People don't like it when you impose a law for their good, which obviously is not that good for them, line your pockets with the profits all the while denying that you could possibly want to do that, and in the same sentence accusing them of the crimes you are actually committing.
Obviously, it revolves around an ideology that ideas are basically, vehicles to power. Anyone who pretends that their ideas serve something higher than personal gain are probably talking about group gain. And God forbid it be about actual principles -- ones which do not benefit one's self in a controllable fashion -- all lies! Well, lies in the sense that when your opponent says them they are obviously covers for the-will-to-power whereas your covers for the-will-to-power are obviously squeaky clean. Why? Well, for God's sake, you're correct, and that ought to be worth something.
And if the world doesn't agree with you? I mean, you know, physics, mathematics, science, rationality, reason, God -- screw 'em! They just don't like you, those meanies.
That being said (one of my favorite connecting phrases), real World Government comes from the bottom up, which is the only way for it to actually have any power. A top-down government will be very good at looking like it is powerful, but like the U.N, will simply be a circus. And one that nobody goes to because frankly, they've been doing the same act since ancient Greece.
Tyranny doesn't work, not because it hurts people's feelings, but because it actually doesn't carry any authority. Sometimes it has a lot of force behind it, but force is made of men and machines, and one dies and the other one needs to be repaired eventually, which is a task for.. men and machines. Which, by the way, die or need to be repaired. In case I hadn't mentioned it before.
Ideas on the other hand, have a greater life to them, even so much more ideas which are part of the Truth-- the prior in that they can be duplicated theoretically free of cost-- the energy price of speaking and thinking is somewhat negligable. The latter being something that re-asserts itself essentially; so it refuses to be forgotten no matter how many men close their ears and turn up their machines.
Thus we have the idea of authority from above-- something that enchants the minds of men -- but the real authority from above is something, then, that refuses to be forgotten. Why? Because all men, being formed of the dust of this world, ring with the truth of this real authority. Without their acquiescence, no authority no matter how well conceived has any posterity.
And thus, the U.N. is dying. When will it be laid to earth? It doesn't really matter, though I would prefer sooner than later (but on the other hand, I would also prefer an improved replacement sooner than later as well.) but one thing is clear: That which does not grow is dying. And the U.N. has never grown-- how could it? Why, the nation-state and its System are the pinnacle of man's acheivement! To exemplify this, we will make men into nations and nations into men, so we can impugn the motives of neccesity and exalt the pitiful emotions of barbarity. Why? Because there is nothing new to be gained! We've done it!
Get out the chisel; I'm hoping for a 200 on the gravestone of the U.N. Just hoping it won't be a 201.
Then again, the U.N. never had any teeth either. Why worry? It was born a genuine geriatric. No wonder its been on life-support for so long. And don't even get me started on the EU. You know- its an obvious step towards the future (by which is obviously meant the year 2000, when everyone was equal.) when you take the power out of the hands of the people, and put it in the hands of a nobility. Welcome to the new Dark Ages!
On a brighter note, the year 2000 is in the past now, so we can all get to the task of thinking independently and working diligently. A little religion wouldn't hurt us, either. Of course, again, religion is something we have risen above! Or rather, below? Sunk below? Not sure about the metaphysical inequations involved in that circumperambulation. Take three Hail Marys and call me in the morning.
World Government, like many other 'progressive' ideas, is something of a bogeyman for the right. We know this to be true, but why is it so? As far as imposing what you think is right on someone else, one might think that the right would love the idea of World Government. I mean, all you have to do is make it a theocracy, and the righties will jump right on board, right?
Ok, enough patronizing. The fact is, anyone who loves their own liberty, and the liberty of others, should be at the very least leary of a world government. My experience in dealing with what happens when one person takes leadership over one other person tells me one thing: Give the wrong man the right rope and he'll hang everyone with it.
The problem with World Gov't is of course identical to the problem with speed limits: there is something of substance to the idea, that is, a government with the power to keep certain nation estates and stateless notions in line.
But, the divide is simply this: People don't like it when you impose a law for their good, which obviously is not that good for them, line your pockets with the profits all the while denying that you could possibly want to do that, and in the same sentence accusing them of the crimes you are actually committing.
Obviously, it revolves around an ideology that ideas are basically, vehicles to power. Anyone who pretends that their ideas serve something higher than personal gain are probably talking about group gain. And God forbid it be about actual principles -- ones which do not benefit one's self in a controllable fashion -- all lies! Well, lies in the sense that when your opponent says them they are obviously covers for the-will-to-power whereas your covers for the-will-to-power are obviously squeaky clean. Why? Well, for God's sake, you're correct, and that ought to be worth something.
And if the world doesn't agree with you? I mean, you know, physics, mathematics, science, rationality, reason, God -- screw 'em! They just don't like you, those meanies.
That being said (one of my favorite connecting phrases), real World Government comes from the bottom up, which is the only way for it to actually have any power. A top-down government will be very good at looking like it is powerful, but like the U.N, will simply be a circus. And one that nobody goes to because frankly, they've been doing the same act since ancient Greece.
Tyranny doesn't work, not because it hurts people's feelings, but because it actually doesn't carry any authority. Sometimes it has a lot of force behind it, but force is made of men and machines, and one dies and the other one needs to be repaired eventually, which is a task for.. men and machines. Which, by the way, die or need to be repaired. In case I hadn't mentioned it before.
Ideas on the other hand, have a greater life to them, even so much more ideas which are part of the Truth-- the prior in that they can be duplicated theoretically free of cost-- the energy price of speaking and thinking is somewhat negligable. The latter being something that re-asserts itself essentially; so it refuses to be forgotten no matter how many men close their ears and turn up their machines.
Thus we have the idea of authority from above-- something that enchants the minds of men -- but the real authority from above is something, then, that refuses to be forgotten. Why? Because all men, being formed of the dust of this world, ring with the truth of this real authority. Without their acquiescence, no authority no matter how well conceived has any posterity.
And thus, the U.N. is dying. When will it be laid to earth? It doesn't really matter, though I would prefer sooner than later (but on the other hand, I would also prefer an improved replacement sooner than later as well.) but one thing is clear: That which does not grow is dying. And the U.N. has never grown-- how could it? Why, the nation-state and its System are the pinnacle of man's acheivement! To exemplify this, we will make men into nations and nations into men, so we can impugn the motives of neccesity and exalt the pitiful emotions of barbarity. Why? Because there is nothing new to be gained! We've done it!
Get out the chisel; I'm hoping for a 200 on the gravestone of the U.N. Just hoping it won't be a 201.
Then again, the U.N. never had any teeth either. Why worry? It was born a genuine geriatric. No wonder its been on life-support for so long. And don't even get me started on the EU. You know- its an obvious step towards the future (by which is obviously meant the year 2000, when everyone was equal.) when you take the power out of the hands of the people, and put it in the hands of a nobility. Welcome to the new Dark Ages!
On a brighter note, the year 2000 is in the past now, so we can all get to the task of thinking independently and working diligently. A little religion wouldn't hurt us, either. Of course, again, religion is something we have risen above! Or rather, below? Sunk below? Not sure about the metaphysical inequations involved in that circumperambulation. Take three Hail Marys and call me in the morning.
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I was thinking about the problems of 'evolution' and 'creation' and how to some people's minds these are treated as mutually exclusive concepts. Nevermind that created things can evolve, if they are created to be evolving.
It is clear to me, that while human intelligence is on average identitcal to what it always has been-- even 'primitive' people given enough knowledge easily learn the things you or I can. Genetically speaking, only the arrangements of genes differ, but not the set from which they are selected.
Brain 'size' even apparently is irrelevant, considering that a recent book "The Female Brain" demonstrated through research that the size-discrepancy between female and male brains is a matter of density and not mass. I guess we can get jokes about women being dense, but we already had those, so no net gain/loss really.
We don't know of the exact process which controls the number of neural brain tissue cells that are generated in our growth, we don't know if it is controlled by genes or other factors. So in other words, we have to accept that we don't know the answer currently to that nagging question.
Anyway, that nonsense aside, I thought about Chaos Theory, which refers to the curious Bifurcations that occur when a system reaches a precise point away from 'equillibrium'.
The reason why evolutionary theory is so nagging, is quite simple. We cannot -prove- it because we cannot go back to previous systems and reproduce the conditions and effect of the bifurcation; we simply lack the information to do so. But the fact that this process itself is axiomatic nags scientists to no end. One might think, though, that the impossibility of the discover of these conditions would allow scientists to say, "well, it isn't scientifically knowable! The processes themselves are too complex and the conditions too unknown!" And then work on stuff we can do and let serendipity take its course. But no. No. We get treated to everyone's pet theories, you know- 'Blending', 'Spontaneous Generation', Darwin's Ever-lootion. etc. Never do we hear the admission that it currently, and possibly for ever, is out of the reach of science.
I guess because that would sort of admit that science is not the end-all be-all. Oops.
Anyway, I'm somewhat learned in the subject, and I'm not a hater of good scientific work. That is, science that follows the method laid out- observation, hypothesis, experiment.... etc. Establishing variables so they can be tested, working with controls, etc. All excellent, working science.
Darwin-o-science? Bad, idiotic stuff. Almost as dumb as teaching creationism literally. Well, actually, probably dumber. But its a big contest of dumb. Don't get me started on I.D. Neither Darwin or I.D. is actual 'science'. Its scientifically packaged metaphysics. At least the creation story doesn't try to confuse you into thinking its not metaphysical.
Moving on again.
Order and Chaos
Looking at the basic framework of matter and energy, we find that there are two forces. Matter ~ order vs Energy ~ chaos. Basic forces. By 'chaos' theory (Which I think is a misnomer. I would call it 'bifurcation theory', but that is less catchy.) At some point, bammo! A new force is created. But what is this force? Well, it is a force that necessarily unites both forces, chaos and order. It is a new system.
What is it called?
Life.
Life combines the rigid structures of lipids, poly-peptides, and nucleic acids with the chaotic interactions of diffusion, heat, electricity and so forth.
Life is a vertical element to this horizontal system- order vs. chaos.
But if Life is vertical, we know that there is an anti-vertical, I.E, death. Death leads back to the old order-vs-chaos world.
Life though is not 'one', it is also 'two'. For life introduces two new forces by which it is governed. That is
Want and Need.
Want ~ desire/pleasure, Need ~ survival/protection.
Even bacteria are subject to this; but the characteristic of mere life is that it is governed by these forces and does not have control over them. Bacteria can be made to grow in a destructive way by giving them too much food; but will protect themselves from predatory microrganisms in any way they are able. The deer, likewise, can be shot easily by laying out a salt lick, but is keen to turning her tail and running when a threat is made known.
What is the new unity?
Mind.
More specifically, 'mind' has come to be known as the 'ego'. The ego thinks that it is the governor of this new world, just as life believes itself to be the governor of the world of order and chaos. This mind is the 'soul'. Or rather, it is the new vertical in which the soul is manifested.
That sounds very confusing, but simply imagine that mind is the circle, and there is a new bifurcation within which are the 'yin' and 'yang'. So 'Ego' is the governor of the 'superego' - need, and the 'id' - want. Standard psych.
But within this new unity is a new bifurcation- what are its parts? Easy-peasy.
Unity and Direction.
Left brain = direction = reason
Right brain = unity = synthesis
Lets skip ahead. We already know this stuff. Note that emotions are mostly on the level of Id vs Superego, in other words, lower functions. They aren't 'evil' or 'good', they are simply, in a word, reactive and dumb. They are not specifically aware of the higher level, I.E, direction vs. unity. The downward vertical is thoughtlessness. It leads back to the id/superego world of basic life. Not a place to return to.
Up we go. This new column is called 'Spirit'. One of its hallmarks is intuition- the fusing of direction and unity. But isn't unity already fused? Imagine instead, that 'unity' is the conception of the circle, zero, infinity etc. And direction is the conception of the line, counting, and tools. Fusing them together-- the jewish and the greek-- bammo! Spirit is grokked.
(To find the spiritual paths, look for fusions of 'unity' or 'circularity' and 'direction' or 'directionality'. For instance, music.)
Spirit
The upward vertical on spirit is 'Good',
and the downward vertical on spirit is 'Evil'.
In this way, the Ego (our mind.) is caught on a lower level from Good and Evil, and has a tendancy to do one of two things. 1. Consider itself the governor of all (with little success) or 2. Think of itself as obselete, and attempt to become non-extant (which it cannot do.)
The Ego is the king of the world of desire and need, but he is not the king of Spirit. What is his role in the world of the Spirit? Lets look below to figure out. Life rules the world of order and chaos, pushing upward through growth and away from death. What is his role in the world of Desire and Need?
He's a gatekeeper; restricting some desires and some needs according to his requirements.
Likewise, mr. Ego (you and I) in the realm of spirit, is merely a gatekeeper, Like the porter in Shakespeare's Macbeth. Listen to him ramble on:
MACDUFF and LENNOX enter. But that is for another discussion.
Anyway, the realm of the spirit, being upward as Good and downward of Evil, is the realm of
The One and The Many
Who is the fusion of this? Why, it is none other than God, the one and three. Everpresence, Omnipotence, all of these things require the one and many.
So the only governor of this realm, the Spirit, (or Soul, if you will, which is the bridge between the the Spirit and the Mind.) is God.
But the real question is, is this the final vertical? Is the top God? Or is God the ultimate top? Is there another vertical? At the stop of the top of the staircase of good in the fusion of the one and many, is there another path?
So to diagram:
(God?)
Many --- One
Good
(Soul)
Evil
Direction --- Circularity
Wisdom
(Mind)
Thoughtlessness
Desire --- Need
Growth
(Life)
Death
Order --- Chaos
What of stars, that live?
Of pigs, who can learn?
What of lsd-heads, who seem to understand the soul?
Ghosts in the machine; or incomplete or non-transcending unities.
One or the other;
The downward vertical of every vertical goes ALL the way down. Think of it as a cone, and every vertical connects to the base, but every top of a vertical connects only to another level. Tough love, eh.
Love huh. Maybe the soul's door is opening. That winsome wisdom of unity's direction, order's chaos, desire's needs and the one of many, ever growing, and quite necessarily good-- but the top is God. So where does the path lead, next?
Upward and inward as always, my friends.
It is clear to me, that while human intelligence is on average identitcal to what it always has been-- even 'primitive' people given enough knowledge easily learn the things you or I can. Genetically speaking, only the arrangements of genes differ, but not the set from which they are selected.
Brain 'size' even apparently is irrelevant, considering that a recent book "The Female Brain" demonstrated through research that the size-discrepancy between female and male brains is a matter of density and not mass. I guess we can get jokes about women being dense, but we already had those, so no net gain/loss really.
We don't know of the exact process which controls the number of neural brain tissue cells that are generated in our growth, we don't know if it is controlled by genes or other factors. So in other words, we have to accept that we don't know the answer currently to that nagging question.
Anyway, that nonsense aside, I thought about Chaos Theory, which refers to the curious Bifurcations that occur when a system reaches a precise point away from 'equillibrium'.
The reason why evolutionary theory is so nagging, is quite simple. We cannot -prove- it because we cannot go back to previous systems and reproduce the conditions and effect of the bifurcation; we simply lack the information to do so. But the fact that this process itself is axiomatic nags scientists to no end. One might think, though, that the impossibility of the discover of these conditions would allow scientists to say, "well, it isn't scientifically knowable! The processes themselves are too complex and the conditions too unknown!" And then work on stuff we can do and let serendipity take its course. But no. No. We get treated to everyone's pet theories, you know- 'Blending', 'Spontaneous Generation', Darwin's Ever-lootion. etc. Never do we hear the admission that it currently, and possibly for ever, is out of the reach of science.
I guess because that would sort of admit that science is not the end-all be-all. Oops.
Anyway, I'm somewhat learned in the subject, and I'm not a hater of good scientific work. That is, science that follows the method laid out- observation, hypothesis, experiment.... etc. Establishing variables so they can be tested, working with controls, etc. All excellent, working science.
Darwin-o-science? Bad, idiotic stuff. Almost as dumb as teaching creationism literally. Well, actually, probably dumber. But its a big contest of dumb. Don't get me started on I.D. Neither Darwin or I.D. is actual 'science'. Its scientifically packaged metaphysics. At least the creation story doesn't try to confuse you into thinking its not metaphysical.
Moving on again.
Order and Chaos
Looking at the basic framework of matter and energy, we find that there are two forces. Matter ~ order vs Energy ~ chaos. Basic forces. By 'chaos' theory (Which I think is a misnomer. I would call it 'bifurcation theory', but that is less catchy.) At some point, bammo! A new force is created. But what is this force? Well, it is a force that necessarily unites both forces, chaos and order. It is a new system.
What is it called?
Life.
Life combines the rigid structures of lipids, poly-peptides, and nucleic acids with the chaotic interactions of diffusion, heat, electricity and so forth.
Life is a vertical element to this horizontal system- order vs. chaos.
But if Life is vertical, we know that there is an anti-vertical, I.E, death. Death leads back to the old order-vs-chaos world.
Life though is not 'one', it is also 'two'. For life introduces two new forces by which it is governed. That is
Want and Need.
Want ~ desire/pleasure, Need ~ survival/protection.
Even bacteria are subject to this; but the characteristic of mere life is that it is governed by these forces and does not have control over them. Bacteria can be made to grow in a destructive way by giving them too much food; but will protect themselves from predatory microrganisms in any way they are able. The deer, likewise, can be shot easily by laying out a salt lick, but is keen to turning her tail and running when a threat is made known.
What is the new unity?
Mind.
More specifically, 'mind' has come to be known as the 'ego'. The ego thinks that it is the governor of this new world, just as life believes itself to be the governor of the world of order and chaos. This mind is the 'soul'. Or rather, it is the new vertical in which the soul is manifested.
That sounds very confusing, but simply imagine that mind is the circle, and there is a new bifurcation within which are the 'yin' and 'yang'. So 'Ego' is the governor of the 'superego' - need, and the 'id' - want. Standard psych.
But within this new unity is a new bifurcation- what are its parts? Easy-peasy.
Unity and Direction.
Left brain = direction = reason
Right brain = unity = synthesis
Lets skip ahead. We already know this stuff. Note that emotions are mostly on the level of Id vs Superego, in other words, lower functions. They aren't 'evil' or 'good', they are simply, in a word, reactive and dumb. They are not specifically aware of the higher level, I.E, direction vs. unity. The downward vertical is thoughtlessness. It leads back to the id/superego world of basic life. Not a place to return to.
Up we go. This new column is called 'Spirit'. One of its hallmarks is intuition- the fusing of direction and unity. But isn't unity already fused? Imagine instead, that 'unity' is the conception of the circle, zero, infinity etc. And direction is the conception of the line, counting, and tools. Fusing them together-- the jewish and the greek-- bammo! Spirit is grokked.
(To find the spiritual paths, look for fusions of 'unity' or 'circularity' and 'direction' or 'directionality'. For instance, music.)
Spirit
The upward vertical on spirit is 'Good',
and the downward vertical on spirit is 'Evil'.
In this way, the Ego (our mind.) is caught on a lower level from Good and Evil, and has a tendancy to do one of two things. 1. Consider itself the governor of all (with little success) or 2. Think of itself as obselete, and attempt to become non-extant (which it cannot do.)
The Ego is the king of the world of desire and need, but he is not the king of Spirit. What is his role in the world of the Spirit? Lets look below to figure out. Life rules the world of order and chaos, pushing upward through growth and away from death. What is his role in the world of Desire and Need?
He's a gatekeeper; restricting some desires and some needs according to his requirements.
Likewise, mr. Ego (you and I) in the realm of spirit, is merely a gatekeeper, Like the porter in Shakespeare's Macbeth. Listen to him ramble on:
SCENE III. The same.
Knocking within. Enter a Porter
Porter
Here's a knocking indeed! If a
man were porter of hell-gate, he should have
old turning the key.
Knocking within
Knock,
knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of
Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged
himself on the expectation of plenty: come in
time; have napkins enow about you; here
you'll sweat for't.
Knocking within
Knock,
knock! Who's there, in the other devil's
name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could
swear in both the scales against either scale;
who committed treason enough for God's sake,
yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come
in, equivocator.
Knocking within
Knock,
knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an
English tailor come hither, for stealing out of
a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may
roast your goose.
Knocking within
Knock,
knock; never at quiet! What are you? But
this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter
it no further: I had thought to have let in
some of all professions that go the primrose
way to the everlasting bonfire.
Knocking within
Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.
Opens the gate
MACDUFF and LENNOX enter. But that is for another discussion.
Anyway, the realm of the spirit, being upward as Good and downward of Evil, is the realm of
The One and The Many
Who is the fusion of this? Why, it is none other than God, the one and three. Everpresence, Omnipotence, all of these things require the one and many.
So the only governor of this realm, the Spirit, (or Soul, if you will, which is the bridge between the the Spirit and the Mind.) is God.
But the real question is, is this the final vertical? Is the top God? Or is God the ultimate top? Is there another vertical? At the stop of the top of the staircase of good in the fusion of the one and many, is there another path?
So to diagram:
(God?)
Many --- One
Good
(Soul)
Evil
Direction --- Circularity
Wisdom
(Mind)
Thoughtlessness
Desire --- Need
Growth
(Life)
Death
Order --- Chaos
What of stars, that live?
Of pigs, who can learn?
What of lsd-heads, who seem to understand the soul?
Ghosts in the machine; or incomplete or non-transcending unities.
One or the other;
The downward vertical of every vertical goes ALL the way down. Think of it as a cone, and every vertical connects to the base, but every top of a vertical connects only to another level. Tough love, eh.
Love huh. Maybe the soul's door is opening. That winsome wisdom of unity's direction, order's chaos, desire's needs and the one of many, ever growing, and quite necessarily good-- but the top is God. So where does the path lead, next?
Upward and inward as always, my friends.
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The Sojourner
13 min read
There once was a man. He doesn't need a name, he's just like you and I (unless you're a woman, then he's just like you except male.)
Now, like you and I, this man is a traveler. A wanderer, he's restless, he seeks something new and better. Sometimes he carries a great load on his back, and other times his load is very light. When his load is light, he moves quickly, which is good, because he will need to find food, shelter, and water more quickly, carrying less of any of those. Sometimes he carries things on his back that aren't essential; like people who can walk, kitchen sinks, various animals, big books on nothing, fancy papers and so forth. When he has a heavy load he moves slowly, but has few worries. He only starts to get concerned when things begin falling off of his back. Sometimes he carries them in a cart, but the cart eventually breaks.
Now, nobody told this man that the world was round; but even if he knew it, it wouldn't change his restlessness.
One day, he came apon another man, but it was a different sort of man. This man gazed continually upward as he travelled, and never tripped or waivered.
"What are you doing?" The man asked the other, feeling somewhat mocked by the man's easy travel.
"I'm travelling onward." Said the other.
"Funny. What I meant is, why are you looking up? Shouldn't you be keeping your eyes on the road?"
"My eyes are on the road." The other replied.
"Right..." The man replied. It was clear to him that this man was, in fact, a lunatic, or a madman.
He brushed this aside and asked him, "Where are you headed?"
"The same place you are."
"Oh, I guess we could walk together for awhile, then?"
"Certainly."
Now, you should know as much as I do, that when men travel together, or have somehow tacitly agreed to do so, talk is sparse. Having walked with the other man for several hours, he finally asked his compatriot,
"How do you know where you are going? I mean, neither of us have stumbled as we walk, but you haven't looked once at the road ahead."
"Do you want to know the answer?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course I do! Why would I have asked, otherwise?"
The other regarded him for a moment, and then replied:
"If you keep your eyes on the Sun, you will know what way you head. If you don't walk too fast, you won't stumble."
"Oh, really? I guess that sounds reasonable. But what about the evening? Doesnt the sun move?"
"The Sun doesn't move, the Earth does."
"But doesn't the sun move around all of the other stars?"
"Yes."
He just shrugged, and the men continued on. At a point, they reached a fork in the road. The other looked at him and said,
"Well, here we must part ways."
"Oh." The first said. And then watched the man take the other path into the distance.
He looked carefully at both paths. Somehow, the man had taken the path that was going the other way; the direction away from the one which he knew beforehand he was going to take. The other's path led high up into the mountains, and into the unknown.
"Same place?" He asked himself, "What is that supposed to mean?"
As he travelled, the path he was taking began to get rough and in places disappeared. He then remembered the man's suggestion; to follow the sun. Looking now in the distance, he could see the place he was headed to, and then judge the direction there by the position of the sun.
"How clever!" He exclaimed. The sun moved from one side of the sky to the other, so if he headed away from it in the morning, rested at noon, and walked towards it in the evening, he would make steady progress, even across the unknown.
As he travelled now, with the sun as his guide, he traversed the most dangerous places with ease, and saw wonders that no man's eyes had seen. Eventually he forgot the man who had told him these things, and even in time that he had figured out how to put them to use.
He began to grow old, as all men do, and weary of his journey. He said to himself, "Before I die, I shall see the most beautiful thing in the world; and then I shall lay down my head and finally rest."
But his journey moved with the same pace as before; and no matter how beautiful a thing he saw, he always saw one more beautiful. He began to wonder what the most beautiful thing really was!
He knew his time was running short, and he grew impatient with the speed of his walking. But when he tried to jog or run, he would stumble and almost hurt himself, and have sit and rest. Sitting down that night, he pondered if he would ever fulfill this desire of his.
Then he had a thought. "If I cannot walk faster, then I will walk more. I have few years left, let me walk also some at night."
But some was not enough, seeing his autumn turn to winter, the man would sleep a small spell in the late evening, and then walk until morning.
One night, as he was walking, he came apon a field of tall, thick grass. Now, he had traversed such before; but he also had never walked at night. Had he more time, he thought, he might walk around it. But nevermind that, he could simply walk straight through it.
It was far rougher than he had thought and many times he stumbled and fell, and his arms and legs were bruised, and his back was cut by low growing nettles. But he managed to struggle through it. However, when the sun arose to greet the day, he found that he was walking towards it!
He looked at the sun with emnity and cursed it. He had walked straight, had he not, and yet, the sun was rising now on the other side of the world?
"Ah," he said to himself. "I stopped following the sun, and now it has betrayed me! Somehow, I must have angered it by walking at night." Presently before him, he saw what might have been the old path that he had been walking.
The old man said to himself now, "Alas, I cannot trust the sun anymore, let me follow this path instead. Forget the sun, I care not for whatever it thinks, if it even can! I shall travel as I see fit."
He then took to his old path and walked again. He walked over hills and through vales, through villages and cities, following the path as it went.
Then one day, the man, old an withered, sat down on an iron bench in a small town. He was deeply saddened that he had never seen the greatest beauty in the world, but said to himself:
"The truth must be, then, that there is no most beautiful thing. How could there be? Would something not just more beautiful come after it? It is much better that I walk again this path, because I am safe among these good people, and I can see this old country once more before I die."
He heard footsteps on the pavement, and looked up to see a man approaching, looking up at the sky. The man stopped and looked at him.
"Oh, hey it's you. How are you doing today?"
The old man blinked, and said: "I am terrible! I am old, and tired, and foolish! I wasted my whole life looking for the most beautiful thing, and I never found it!"
"Really? I don't recall that that was why you were travelling at all!"
The first looked him in the eye and said, "Why would a man travel if not for some specific reason? Its such a waste of time and energy."
"You never needed one before."
"Ah, what do you know? All you do is spend your days staring at the sky, and walking who-knows-what way. Had I not listened to you in the first place, I would have gotten to the town I was going to, so many years ago, built a home and a family, and made myself wealthy!"
"But you didn't listen to me, at all."
The walking man then looked left, and right, and leaned in towards the old man. "Listen, I have to go now. A bunch of fine fellows in a town back have taken to doing nothing but stare at the sky, now. Very unproductive, they say. I tried to tell them that you follow the Sun, not simply stare at it, but they can't hear me anymore, and they've gone blind from looking into the Sun. Now the authorities are holding me responsible."
With this, he smiled at the old man, bowed, and walked off straight down the street, still looking upward.
Soon a policeman walked up the street, and spotted the old man.
"Can't you read the signs, old man? It says 'No Loitering'! Get moving!"
"Sorry. I didn't notice them. I'll be on my way."
He got up and watched the policemen walk down an alley and out of sight. A mist had descended on the calm street, and the distance was lost in a veil of white.
At first he was sad. "Well, I guess no-one's got a use for an old man like me anymore. If I'd been born back in the day, I would've had some respect. But nowadays, its just 'No Loitering', you old coot!"
But he shrugged at this, "Eh, what good does it do for me to be sad? I mean, there's nobody here to feel sorry for me."
With this he looked up into the sky to see the sun, which was making its way off to the West, by degrees sliding lower in the sky.
He shook his head to himself. "The sun never moved, I just got lost during the night."
Slowly he walked westward, the same way the other had; and said, "I guess the Sun never does move. Whether it moves around the stars doesn't matter to me; it always rises in the East and sets in the West."
As he sat down to eat with sun retiring to its western lofts, he thought, "You know, in fact, I have seen the most beautiful thing in the world. I've seen it a thousand times in a thousand different ways. In fact, its such a common thing, why would anyone waste their whole life looking for it?"
As he was about to lie down to rest, a young man walked up to where he had lit his fire.
"Mind if I eat and rest with you, good sir?" asked the younger.
"Not at all." Said the elder. "Where are you headed?"
The younger looked up from his bag, which he had set on the ground.
"Oh, anywhere, I guess. Just away from here, you know?"
"What is wrong with 'here'?" replied the elder.
The young man shrugged as he took out apples and bread, and other sundries. "The people here are so hateful. You know? They tell you you can't sleep in the street, and that you have to have a job, and that you can't throw rocks at whomever you please. Like they can tell anyone what to do."
"Why would you want to do any of those things?"
"Well, why not? Life is short, you know? If a guy can't have a good time before he bites it, why even stick around? Anyway, I would think you'd understand, you're a wanderer like me!"
"I used to be." the elder replied.
"Then what are you now? I mean, it sounds like you're just avoiding the question, you know?"
"Oh, I still am wandering. I'm just no longer a wanderer."
"Because you're dying?"
The old man snorted. "Only to the body."
"So you're going to like, transcend this plane, and join the great unconscious, you know, with like Buddha and Moses and Chief Joseph? I wonder if there will be a cover charge. I mean, will there be money? I guess everything will be free. Yeah, free. And everyone will be equal..."
The old man interrupted him with a wave of the hand.
"I have no idea what any of that stuff you're talking about is. I'm no longer a wanderer, because I'm following the Sun. And it never moves, only the Earth does."
"Ohhh, yeah, yeah! Cool, so you're like, a sun-worshipper, or something? I hear its a very interesting religion. I'm totally into that, you know?"
"No, not quite..."
"So, have you ever had any spiritual experiences? Like, eating mushrooms out there, or like, connecting with the great Divine?"
The old man sighed deeply.
"No. I found out that if you follow the Sun, and don't walk too fast, you'll get where you are going and never stumble."
The young man was slightly chagrinned. "Fine, whatever. So where are you going, then?"
"The same place you are."
"How would you know that?"
"Because we all are."
"You mean, we're all going to die? So you're telling me you're going to die? That's kind of morbid, you know."
"No, thats--"
"Look, as much as I'd like to stick around, You're totally cramping my style, you know? I appreciate the hospitality, but I'm gonna find my own fire. You're just like the rest of 'em, trying to stuff your ideas down my throat. I mean, you don't know me."
The old man sighed again, and watched the young man pack up his things and sling his sack over his back.
"I'll give ya some advice, old man. You gotta have respect for other people's ideas, you know? Then you'll have some company instead of sleeping alone."
The young man then haughtily walked down the path, into the dimming lights of the evening, deeper into the western valley. The old man listened as long as his ears would strain to hear the footsteps of the younger, until they became inaudible against the gentle breeze.
"Ah," He said, "But I do."
"Do you?"
He lay his head down on a stone, and closed his eyes to rest.
Now, like you and I, this man is a traveler. A wanderer, he's restless, he seeks something new and better. Sometimes he carries a great load on his back, and other times his load is very light. When his load is light, he moves quickly, which is good, because he will need to find food, shelter, and water more quickly, carrying less of any of those. Sometimes he carries things on his back that aren't essential; like people who can walk, kitchen sinks, various animals, big books on nothing, fancy papers and so forth. When he has a heavy load he moves slowly, but has few worries. He only starts to get concerned when things begin falling off of his back. Sometimes he carries them in a cart, but the cart eventually breaks.
Now, nobody told this man that the world was round; but even if he knew it, it wouldn't change his restlessness.
One day, he came apon another man, but it was a different sort of man. This man gazed continually upward as he travelled, and never tripped or waivered.
"What are you doing?" The man asked the other, feeling somewhat mocked by the man's easy travel.
"I'm travelling onward." Said the other.
"Funny. What I meant is, why are you looking up? Shouldn't you be keeping your eyes on the road?"
"My eyes are on the road." The other replied.
"Right..." The man replied. It was clear to him that this man was, in fact, a lunatic, or a madman.
He brushed this aside and asked him, "Where are you headed?"
"The same place you are."
"Oh, I guess we could walk together for awhile, then?"
"Certainly."
Now, you should know as much as I do, that when men travel together, or have somehow tacitly agreed to do so, talk is sparse. Having walked with the other man for several hours, he finally asked his compatriot,
"How do you know where you are going? I mean, neither of us have stumbled as we walk, but you haven't looked once at the road ahead."
"Do you want to know the answer?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course I do! Why would I have asked, otherwise?"
The other regarded him for a moment, and then replied:
"If you keep your eyes on the Sun, you will know what way you head. If you don't walk too fast, you won't stumble."
"Oh, really? I guess that sounds reasonable. But what about the evening? Doesnt the sun move?"
"The Sun doesn't move, the Earth does."
"But doesn't the sun move around all of the other stars?"
"Yes."
He just shrugged, and the men continued on. At a point, they reached a fork in the road. The other looked at him and said,
"Well, here we must part ways."
"Oh." The first said. And then watched the man take the other path into the distance.
He looked carefully at both paths. Somehow, the man had taken the path that was going the other way; the direction away from the one which he knew beforehand he was going to take. The other's path led high up into the mountains, and into the unknown.
"Same place?" He asked himself, "What is that supposed to mean?"
As he travelled, the path he was taking began to get rough and in places disappeared. He then remembered the man's suggestion; to follow the sun. Looking now in the distance, he could see the place he was headed to, and then judge the direction there by the position of the sun.
"How clever!" He exclaimed. The sun moved from one side of the sky to the other, so if he headed away from it in the morning, rested at noon, and walked towards it in the evening, he would make steady progress, even across the unknown.
As he travelled now, with the sun as his guide, he traversed the most dangerous places with ease, and saw wonders that no man's eyes had seen. Eventually he forgot the man who had told him these things, and even in time that he had figured out how to put them to use.
He began to grow old, as all men do, and weary of his journey. He said to himself, "Before I die, I shall see the most beautiful thing in the world; and then I shall lay down my head and finally rest."
But his journey moved with the same pace as before; and no matter how beautiful a thing he saw, he always saw one more beautiful. He began to wonder what the most beautiful thing really was!
He knew his time was running short, and he grew impatient with the speed of his walking. But when he tried to jog or run, he would stumble and almost hurt himself, and have sit and rest. Sitting down that night, he pondered if he would ever fulfill this desire of his.
Then he had a thought. "If I cannot walk faster, then I will walk more. I have few years left, let me walk also some at night."
But some was not enough, seeing his autumn turn to winter, the man would sleep a small spell in the late evening, and then walk until morning.
One night, as he was walking, he came apon a field of tall, thick grass. Now, he had traversed such before; but he also had never walked at night. Had he more time, he thought, he might walk around it. But nevermind that, he could simply walk straight through it.
It was far rougher than he had thought and many times he stumbled and fell, and his arms and legs were bruised, and his back was cut by low growing nettles. But he managed to struggle through it. However, when the sun arose to greet the day, he found that he was walking towards it!
He looked at the sun with emnity and cursed it. He had walked straight, had he not, and yet, the sun was rising now on the other side of the world?
"Ah," he said to himself. "I stopped following the sun, and now it has betrayed me! Somehow, I must have angered it by walking at night." Presently before him, he saw what might have been the old path that he had been walking.
The old man said to himself now, "Alas, I cannot trust the sun anymore, let me follow this path instead. Forget the sun, I care not for whatever it thinks, if it even can! I shall travel as I see fit."
He then took to his old path and walked again. He walked over hills and through vales, through villages and cities, following the path as it went.
Then one day, the man, old an withered, sat down on an iron bench in a small town. He was deeply saddened that he had never seen the greatest beauty in the world, but said to himself:
"The truth must be, then, that there is no most beautiful thing. How could there be? Would something not just more beautiful come after it? It is much better that I walk again this path, because I am safe among these good people, and I can see this old country once more before I die."
He heard footsteps on the pavement, and looked up to see a man approaching, looking up at the sky. The man stopped and looked at him.
"Oh, hey it's you. How are you doing today?"
The old man blinked, and said: "I am terrible! I am old, and tired, and foolish! I wasted my whole life looking for the most beautiful thing, and I never found it!"
"Really? I don't recall that that was why you were travelling at all!"
The first looked him in the eye and said, "Why would a man travel if not for some specific reason? Its such a waste of time and energy."
"You never needed one before."
"Ah, what do you know? All you do is spend your days staring at the sky, and walking who-knows-what way. Had I not listened to you in the first place, I would have gotten to the town I was going to, so many years ago, built a home and a family, and made myself wealthy!"
"But you didn't listen to me, at all."
The walking man then looked left, and right, and leaned in towards the old man. "Listen, I have to go now. A bunch of fine fellows in a town back have taken to doing nothing but stare at the sky, now. Very unproductive, they say. I tried to tell them that you follow the Sun, not simply stare at it, but they can't hear me anymore, and they've gone blind from looking into the Sun. Now the authorities are holding me responsible."
With this, he smiled at the old man, bowed, and walked off straight down the street, still looking upward.
Soon a policeman walked up the street, and spotted the old man.
"Can't you read the signs, old man? It says 'No Loitering'! Get moving!"
"Sorry. I didn't notice them. I'll be on my way."
He got up and watched the policemen walk down an alley and out of sight. A mist had descended on the calm street, and the distance was lost in a veil of white.
At first he was sad. "Well, I guess no-one's got a use for an old man like me anymore. If I'd been born back in the day, I would've had some respect. But nowadays, its just 'No Loitering', you old coot!"
But he shrugged at this, "Eh, what good does it do for me to be sad? I mean, there's nobody here to feel sorry for me."
With this he looked up into the sky to see the sun, which was making its way off to the West, by degrees sliding lower in the sky.
He shook his head to himself. "The sun never moved, I just got lost during the night."
Slowly he walked westward, the same way the other had; and said, "I guess the Sun never does move. Whether it moves around the stars doesn't matter to me; it always rises in the East and sets in the West."
As he sat down to eat with sun retiring to its western lofts, he thought, "You know, in fact, I have seen the most beautiful thing in the world. I've seen it a thousand times in a thousand different ways. In fact, its such a common thing, why would anyone waste their whole life looking for it?"
As he was about to lie down to rest, a young man walked up to where he had lit his fire.
"Mind if I eat and rest with you, good sir?" asked the younger.
"Not at all." Said the elder. "Where are you headed?"
The younger looked up from his bag, which he had set on the ground.
"Oh, anywhere, I guess. Just away from here, you know?"
"What is wrong with 'here'?" replied the elder.
The young man shrugged as he took out apples and bread, and other sundries. "The people here are so hateful. You know? They tell you you can't sleep in the street, and that you have to have a job, and that you can't throw rocks at whomever you please. Like they can tell anyone what to do."
"Why would you want to do any of those things?"
"Well, why not? Life is short, you know? If a guy can't have a good time before he bites it, why even stick around? Anyway, I would think you'd understand, you're a wanderer like me!"
"I used to be." the elder replied.
"Then what are you now? I mean, it sounds like you're just avoiding the question, you know?"
"Oh, I still am wandering. I'm just no longer a wanderer."
"Because you're dying?"
The old man snorted. "Only to the body."
"So you're going to like, transcend this plane, and join the great unconscious, you know, with like Buddha and Moses and Chief Joseph? I wonder if there will be a cover charge. I mean, will there be money? I guess everything will be free. Yeah, free. And everyone will be equal..."
The old man interrupted him with a wave of the hand.
"I have no idea what any of that stuff you're talking about is. I'm no longer a wanderer, because I'm following the Sun. And it never moves, only the Earth does."
"Ohhh, yeah, yeah! Cool, so you're like, a sun-worshipper, or something? I hear its a very interesting religion. I'm totally into that, you know?"
"No, not quite..."
"So, have you ever had any spiritual experiences? Like, eating mushrooms out there, or like, connecting with the great Divine?"
The old man sighed deeply.
"No. I found out that if you follow the Sun, and don't walk too fast, you'll get where you are going and never stumble."
The young man was slightly chagrinned. "Fine, whatever. So where are you going, then?"
"The same place you are."
"How would you know that?"
"Because we all are."
"You mean, we're all going to die? So you're telling me you're going to die? That's kind of morbid, you know."
"No, thats--"
"Look, as much as I'd like to stick around, You're totally cramping my style, you know? I appreciate the hospitality, but I'm gonna find my own fire. You're just like the rest of 'em, trying to stuff your ideas down my throat. I mean, you don't know me."
The old man sighed again, and watched the young man pack up his things and sling his sack over his back.
"I'll give ya some advice, old man. You gotta have respect for other people's ideas, you know? Then you'll have some company instead of sleeping alone."
The young man then haughtily walked down the path, into the dimming lights of the evening, deeper into the western valley. The old man listened as long as his ears would strain to hear the footsteps of the younger, until they became inaudible against the gentle breeze.
"Ah," He said, "But I do."
"Do you?"
He lay his head down on a stone, and closed his eyes to rest.
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