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tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216990462014-10-03T06:16:16.673+01:00Everything Is PointlessEverything is Pointless. One day, you are going to die. Be Happy. Science, Atheism, Life, the Universe and Everything!Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-11858242687890242542008-01-17T17:29:00.000Z2008-01-17T18:49:56.227ZMetamorphosis Complete

The question "Is this all?" has troubled countless unsatisfied minds throughout the ages, and, at the end of our tether, as it seems, here it is, still baffling but persistent.

To such discomfited minds the world of our everyday reality is no more than a more or less entertaining or distressful story thrown upon a cinema screen. The story holds together; it moves them greatly and yet they feel it is faked. The vast majority of the beholders accept all the conventions of the story, are completely part of the story, and live and suffer and rejoice and die in it and with it. But the skeptical mind says stoutly, "This is delusion".

Golden lads and lasses must, like chimney sweepers, come to dust."

"No," says this ingrained streak of protest: "there is still something beyond the dust?"

But is there?

There is no reason for saying there is. That skeptical mind may have overrated the thoroughness of its skepticism. As we are now discovering, there was still scope for doubting.

The severer our thinking, the plainer it is that the dust-carts of Time trundle that dust off to the incinerator and there make an end to it.

Hitherto, recurrence has seemed a primary law of life. Night has followed day and day night. But in this strange new phase of existence into which our universe is passing, it becomes evident that events no longer recur. They go on and on to an impenetrable mystery, into a voiceless limitless darkness, against which this obstinate urgency of our dissatisfied minds may struggle, but will struggle only until it is altogether overcome.

Our world of self-delusion will admit none of that. It will perish amidst its evasions and fatuities. It is like a convoy lost in darkness on an unknown rocky coast, with quarrelling pirates in the chartroom and savages clambering up the sides of the ships to plunder and do evil as the whim may take them. That is the rough outline of the more and more jumbled movie on the screen before us. Mind near exhaustion still makes its final futile movement towards that "way out or round or through the impasse".

That is the utmost now that mind can do. And this, its last expiring thrust, is to demonstrate that the door closes upon us for evermore.

There is no way out or round or through.
H. G. Wells. Mind at the end of its Tether.

I suppose you might be curious to know what a man can be like who does not love men. Very well, I am such a man…

But what attracts you to them disgusts me. I have seen, as you, men chewing slowly, all the while keeping an eye on everything, the left hand leafing through an economic review. Is it my fault I prefer to watch the sea-lions feeding? Man can do nothing with his face without its turning into a game of physiognomy. When he chews, keeping his mouth shut, the corners of his mouth go up and down, he looks as though he were passing incessantly from serenity to tearful surprise. You love this, I know, you call it the watchfulness of the Spirit. But it makes me sick; I don't know why; I was born like that.

If there were only a difference of taste between us, I would not trouble you. But everything happens as if you had grace and I had none. I am free to like or dislike lobster newberg, but if I do not like men I am a wretch and can find no place in the sun. They have monopolized the sense of life. I hope you will understand what I mean. For the past 33 years I have been beating against closed doors on which is written "no entrance if not a humanist." I had to abandon all I had undertaken; I had to choose: either it was an absurd and ill-fated attempt, or sooner or later it had to turn to their profit. I could not succeed in detaching from myself thoughts I did not expressly destine for them, in formulating them; they remained in me as slight organic movements. Even the tools I used I felt belonged to them; words for example: I wanted my own words. But the ones I have dragged through I don't know how many consciences; they arrange themselves in my head by virtue of the habits I have picked up from the others and it is not without repugnance that I use them in writing to you. But this is the last time.
Jean-Paul Sartre. Erostratus.

'Now what?' Gregory asked himself as he looked about him in the darkness. He quite soon discovered that he could no longer move at all. He was not surprised; in fact what struck him as unnatural was that he had actually been able to get about until then on such thin legs. Otherwise he felt comparatively comfortable. Admittedly he hurt all over, but he had the impression that the pains were gradually becoming fainter and fainter and would eventually go away together. The rotten apple in his back and the inflamed area around it, now completely covered with a soft dust, were almost forgotten. He recalled his family with sympathy and love. His own belief that he must go was if possible firmer than his sister's. He remained in this state of vacant and peaceable reflection until the church clock struck three in the morning. He lived to see the first signs of general brightening outside the window. Then, independently of his will, his head sank to the floor and his last breath streamed feebly from his nostrils.
Franz Kafka. The Metamorphosis.Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-89034018563586380592007-11-29T11:16:00.000Z2007-11-29T11:17:43.078ZG + Lambda g = 8 pi T<object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tq2ajlBUtmQ&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tq2ajlBUtmQ&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-23643965300549823432007-11-26T15:36:00.001Z2011-06-24T12:11:49.352+01:00The Wall & A Hunger ArtistTwo short stories to consider:

The Wall by Jean-Paul Sartre

&

A Hunger Artist by Franz KafkaLouiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-28165492246137915292007-11-10T12:09:00.000Z2007-11-10T12:13:58.687ZThe Ape That Got Lucky<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2ZE2NGvJ0I"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2ZE2NGvJ0I" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-10835230032287351112007-11-02T17:12:00.000Z2007-11-02T17:14:22.335ZWe're All Just Nuclear Waste<object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TBoCPyOEZH8"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TBoCPyOEZH8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-47622566735370154042007-10-25T00:44:00.000+01:002007-10-25T00:51:15.210+01:00UmbrellaLouiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-73193070692674294972007-10-06T13:52:00.000+01:002007-10-06T14:34:52.254+01:00Mathematics & Madness<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/R7ZW8J0faic"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/R7ZW8J0faic" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object>I cobbled together this clip from two films that I watched in the same week. The first part is a snippet from a BBC documentary called 'Dangerous Knowledge', about the work and fate of four very important scientists. From the BBC website:

In this one-off documentary, David Malone looks at four brilliant mathematicians - Georg Cantor, Ludwig Boltzmann, Kurt Gödel and Alan Turing - whose genius has profoundly affected us, but which tragically drove them insane and eventually led to them all committing suicide.

I have already mentioned Turing on this blog before and I certainly recommend watching the full documentary to learn the other men's sad stories. I chose the extract that I did, because of Ludwig Boltzmann's identification with Darwin, and because I myself often wish to sit within a perfect unchanging moment...

The second part of the clip is from Darren Aronofsky's film 'π', about a mathematical genius who attempts to discover patterns in the stock-market, but appears to stumble onto the name of god! Of course all very far-fetched, but it is the protagonists solution to his problem which I found most interesting. Instead of committing suicide, a drill to the head seemingly removes his mathematical ability, and with it the pain and misery of his math-angst.

Anyway, I can't help but feel an affinity with all these characters, both real and imagined, even if their solutions seem a little drastic...Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-84754334086993769622007-10-02T13:52:00.000+01:002007-10-02T13:55:12.242+01:00The Organism that Started it All<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GcfEhFOb3kA"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GcfEhFOb3kA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-82073885909345655652007-09-28T13:20:00.000+01:002007-09-28T15:16:47.271+01:00A Lesson In Pessimism: Part IIContinuing from 'A Lesson in Pessimism: Part I':

 Granting the strong points in the pessimists' claims, it is still possible to detect certain confusions and dubious inferences in their arguments. To begin with, there is a very obvious inconsistency in the way writers like Darrow and Tolstoy arrive at the conclusion that death is better than life. They begin by telling us that death is something terrible because it terminates the possibility of any of the experiences we value. From this they infer that nothing is really worth doing and that death is better than life.

Ignoring for the moment the claim that in view of our inevitable death nothing is "worth doing," there very plainly seems to be an inconsistency in first judging death to be such a horrible evil and in asserting later on that death is better than life. Why was death originally judged to be an evil? Surely because it is the termination of life. And if something, y, is bad because it is the termination if something, x, this can be so only if x is good or has positive value. If x were not good, the termination of x would not be bad. One cannot consistently have it both ways. To this it may be answered that life did have positive value prior to one's realization of death but that once a person has become aware of the inevitability of his destruction, life becomes unbearable and that this is the real issue. This point of view is well expressed in the following exchange between Cassius and Brutus in William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (III.i.102–105):

CASSIUS. Why he that cuts off twenty years of life—
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

BRUTUS. Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
So are we Caesar's friends that have abridged
His time of fearing death.

There is a very simple reply to this argument. Granting that some people after once realizing their doom cannot banish the thought of it from their minds, so much so that it interferes with all their other activities, this is neither inevitable nor at all common. It is, on the contrary, in the opinion of all except some existentialists, morbid and pathological. The realization that one will die does not in the case of most people prevent them from engaging in activities which they regard as valuable or from enjoying the things they used to enjoy. To be told that one is not living "authentically" if one does not brood about death day and night is simply to be insulted gratuitously. A person who knows that his talents are not as great as he would wish or that he is not as handsome as he would have liked to be is not usually judged to live "inauthentically," but on the contrary to be sensible if he does not constantly brood about his limitations and shortcomings and uses whatever talents he does possess to maximum advantage.
 Okay, I'm going to have to interject right there. Morbid, and pathological seems a little harsh (ha) and certainly I am often troubled by the concepts of authenticity and integrity. Since everything is pointless, what do they really matter? Am I cutting my nose off, to spite my face? Having watched quite a lot of reality-TV singing competitions, I think most people do believe that they are the best, not fat, not ugly, and not stupid. Whereas in reality, most are stupid and ugly (or combinations thereof). I've mentioned before on this blog, that depressive people may be more realistic in their views of the world. Understanding that death is the end of everything, that we're not going to see our loved ones again, after they and we have died, and that everything that you get out of bed for in the morning, is pointless; that hard fought knowledge about the universe, cannot help but have an influence on behaviour. I won't argue that delusion isn't happier, but then science is about the truth, regardless of whether the answer is to the liking of humanity.

Think about a mother losing a child. It's all very well telling her that time will heal, that other people get over loss and grief, and that she'll see her child again in heaven. But reality is, that something treasured, is lost forever. It is understandable that some people never get over life events like that.

 There is another and more basic objection to the claim that death is better than life. This objection applies equally to the claim that while death is better than life it would be better still not to have been born in the first place and to the judgment that life is better than death. It should be remembered that we are here concerned with such pronouncements when they are intended not merely as the expression of certain moods but as statements that are in some sense true or objectively warranted. It may be argued that a value comparison—any judgment to the effect that A is better or worse than B or as good as B— makes sense only if both A and B are, in the relevant respect, in principle open to inspection. If somebody says, for example, that Elizabeth Taylor is a better actress than Betty Grable, this seems quite intelligible. Or, again, if it is said that life for the Jews is better in the United States than it was in Germany under the Nazis, this also seems readily intelligible. In such cases the terms of the comparison are observable or at any rate describable. These conditions are fulfilled in some cases when value comparisons are made between life and death, but they are not fulfilled in the kind of case with which Tolstoy and the pessimists are concerned. If the conception of an afterlife is intelligible, then it would make sense for a believer or for somebody who has not made up his mind to say such things as "Death cannot be worse than this life" or "I wonder if it will be any better for me after I am dead." Achilles, in the Iliad, was not making a senseless comparison when he exclaimed that he would rather act… as a serf of another, A man of little possessions, with scanty means of subsistence, Than rule as a ghostly monarch the ghosts of all the departed. Again, the survivors can meaningfully say about a deceased individual "It is better (for the world) that he is dead" or the opposite. For the person himself, however, if there is no afterlife, death is not a possible object of observation or experience, and statements by him that his own life is better than, as good as, or worse than his own death, unless they are intended to be no more than expressions of certain wishes or moods, must be dismissed as senseless. At first sight the contention that in the circumstances under discussion value comparisons between life and death are senseless may seem implausible because of the widespread tendency to think of death as a shadowy kind of life—as sleep, rest, or some kind of homecoming. Such "descriptions" may be admirable as poetry or consolation, but taken literally they are simply false.

 There is no afterlife. Is death better than life? From the MacMillan Encyclopedia of Death and Dying (a cheery read indeed):

 The World Health Organization estimated that approximately 1 million people commit suicide annually. Suicide is among the top ten causes of death and one of the three leading causes in the fifteen-to-thirty-five-years age group worldwide. In the United States, where suicide is the ninth leading cause of death (and where the number of victims is 50% higher than the number of homicides), the Surgeon General in 1999 issued a Call to Action to Prevent Suicide, labeling suicide "a significant public health problem."

 So you're more likely to kill yourself, than be killed by another person. Whether some people find life enjoyable and worth living, it is inarguable that some people don't. If you spend every second alive, in pain, it is understandable that you might seek the cessation of that pain, through death. For some people then, wishing that they had not been born in the first place, seems like a reasonable conclusion (if not a personal one). More importantly, one day the question will be moot. When the universe is dead, there will be no life, and with it, nobody to remember that you hung yourself or not.

 Irrelevance of the Distant Future

These considerations do not, however, carry us very far. They do not show either that life is worth living or that it "has meaning." Before tackling these problems directly, something should perhaps be said about the curious and totally arbitrary preference of the future to the present, to which writers such as Tolstoy and Darrow are committed without realizing it. Darrow implies that life would not be "futile" if it were not an endless cycle of the same kind of activities and if instead it were like a journey toward a destination. Tolstoy clearly implies that life would be worthwhile, that some of our actions at least would have a "reasonable meaning," if the present life were followed by eternal bliss. Presumably, what would make life no longer futile as far as Darrow is concerned is some feature of the destination, not merely the fact that it is a destination; and what would make life worthwhile in Tolstoy's opinion is not merely the eternity of the next life but the "bliss" that it would confer—eternal misery and torture would hardly do. About the bliss in the next life, if there is such a next life, Tolstoy shows no inclination to ask "What for?" or "So what?"But if bliss in the next life is not in need of any further justification, why should any bliss that there might be in the present life need justification?
 Ifs and ands. Pots and pans. Everything always has, and always will be pointless and since we're not dumb enough to even entertain the nonsensical idea that a super-alien somehow created the universe for you and me, talk of what ifs, is just doubly pointless. Any meaning that you would like to come up with, is essentially the pointless ponderings of a pointless biological machine, constructed by natural selection, and hence of no great importance.

 The Logic of Value Judgements

Many of the pessimists appear to be confused about the logic of value judgments. It makes sense for a person to ask about something "Is it really worthwhile?" or "Is it really worth the trouble?" if he does not regard it as intrinsically valuable or if he is weighing it against another good with which it may be in conflict. It does not make sense to ask such a question about something he regards as valuable in its own right and where there is no conflict with the attainment of any other good. (This observation, it should be noted, is quite independent of what view one takes of the logical status of intrinsic value judgments.) A person driving to the beach on a crowded Sunday, may, upon finally getting there, reflect on whether the trip was really worthwhile. Or, after undertaking a series of medical treatments, somebody may ask whether it was worth the time and the money involved. Such questions make sense because the discomforts of a car ride and the time and money spent on medical treatments are not usually judged to be valuable for their own sake. Again, a woman who has given up a career as a physician in order to raise a family may ask herself whether it was worthwhile, and in this case the question would make sense not because she regards the raising of a family as no more than a means, but because she is weighing it against another good. However, if somebody is very happy, for any number of reasons—because he is in love, because he won the Nobel Prize, because his child recovered from a serious illness—and if this happiness does not prevent him from doing or experiencing anything else he regards as valuable, it would not occur to him to ask "Is it worthwhile?" Indeed, this question would be incomprehensible to him, just as Tolstoy himself would presumably not have known what to make of the question had it been raised about the bliss in the hereafter. It is worth recalling here that we live not in the distant future but in the present and also, in a sense, in the relatively near future.

To bring the subject down to earth, let us consider some everyday occurrences: A man with a toothache goes to a dentist, and the dentist helps him so that the toothache disappears. A man is falsely accused of a crime and is faced with the possibility of a severe sentence as well as with the loss of his reputation; with the help of a devoted attorney his innocence is established, and he is acquitted. It is true that a hundred years later all of the participants in these events will be dead and none of them will then be able to enjoy the fruits of any of the efforts involved. But this most emphatically does not imply that the dentist's efforts were not worthwhile or that the attorney's work was not worth doing. To bring in considerations of what will or will not happen in the remote future is, in such and many other though certainly not in all human situations, totally irrelevant. Not only is the finality of death irrelevant here; equally irrelevant are the facts, if they are facts, that life is an endless cycle of the same kind of activities and that the history of the universe is not a drama with a happy ending. This is, incidentally, also the answer to religious apologists like C. H. D. Clark who maintain that all striving is pointless if it is "without final consequence" and that "it scarcely matters how we live if all will end in the dust of death." Striving is not pointless if it achieves what it is intended to achieve even if it is without final consequence, and it matters a great deal how we live if we have certain standards and goals, although we cannot avoid "the dust of death."
 And so here is where the hedonists fall flat (in my opinion). Agree that everything is pointless; that without god, everything is permitted. There is no morality, only the rules of a minority, which attempt to control and restrict the behaviour of other human beings. And so I ask, striving for what? What standards and goals did we all sign up for? Who decides? The world today is a battleground of stupid ape descendants, who have carved up the land, and the people and riches in it. Every day people die. Every day people are born. War, disease, pain and misery. On one hand you have rich people, flying around in jets, with their obese children, and obese pets, working, spending, energy, energy, energy. And then they wonder why the world might be fucked up. If human beings really do ruin the one place in the universe they know can keep them alive, isn't that an absurd joke? And the piece argues that it's okay striving for today, even if there isn't a tomorrow. Fuck it if the oil runs out tomorrow, today we get our buck and fuck! All well and good for the people who prosper, but look around humanitarians and show me the world where everybody has enough to eat. We are all related, cousins from thousands of years back. And like a dysfunctional family, we're not ever going to get along. Live for today and be happy, is fine advice (seeing as everything is pointless). But I understand why some people choke trying to swallow it...

 The Vanished Past

In asserting the worthlessness of life Schopenhauer remarked that "what has been exists as little as what has never been" and that "something of great importance now past is inferior to something of little importance now present." Several comments are in order here. To begin with, if Schopenhauer is right, it must work both ways: If only the present counts, then past sorrows no less than past pleasures do not "count." Furthermore, the question whether "something of great importance now past is inferior to something of little importance now present" is not, as Schopenhauer supposed, a straightforward question of fact but rather one of valuation, and different answers, none of which can be said to be mistaken, will be given by different people according to their circumstances and interests. Viktor Frankl, the founder of "logotherapy," has compared the pessimist to a man who observes, with fear and sadness, how his wall calendar grows thinner and thinner as he removes a sheet from it every day. The kind of person whom Frankl admires, on the other hand, "files each successive leaf neatly away with its predecessors" and reflects "with pride and joy" on all the richness represented by the leaves removed from the calendar. Such a person will not in old age envy the young. "'No, thank you,' he will think. 'Instead of possibilities, I have realities in my past'" (Man's Search for Meaning, pp. 192–193). This passage is quoted not because it contains any great wisdom but because it illustrates that we are concerned here not with judgments of fact but with value judgments and that Schopenhauer's is not the only one that is possible. Nevertheless, his remarks are, perhaps, a healthy antidote to the cheap consolation and the attempts to cover up deep and inevitable misery that are the stock in trade of a great deal of popular psychology. Although Schopenhauer's judgments about the inferior value of the past cannot be treated as objectively true propositions, they express only too well what a great many human beings are bound to feel on certain occasions.

To a man dying of cancer it is small consolation to reflect that there was a time when he was happy and flourishing; and while there are undoubtedly some old people who do not envy the young, it may be suspected that more often the kind of talk advocated by the prophets of positive thinking is a mask for envy and a defense against exceedingly painful feelings of regret and helplessness in the face of aging and death and the now unalterable past.
 I must admit, that everyday I find myself thinking that another day has gone, That the earth has spun around once, on that slow journey around the sun. It is scary. Apes, huddled together on a rock, spinning in space. With no destination, but the grave. Okay, so some people can enjoy their time on earth. I get that already. But when you understand that life formed randomly, that humans are not inevitable, and that everything is pointless, it kinda sucks all the fun out of life, (because fun = endorphin release, and so what?). We are descended from creatures that survived and fucked. Thinking didn't factor into the equation until recently. No wonder that we intrinsically may feel that we have to do things. The heart and lungs don't need a reason to do their job. But a thinking brain, that has been taught science and learnt to see value in understanding the universe, cannot help but understand that having sex is just putting a weird body part into an orifice; that love is just a chemical state of the brain. And then, so what? Yeah you like it. Yes it's your drug. But other people are condemned for taking drugs. They are judged and their freedom is taken away, because they want to cut out the middle man and the bullshit and go, chemical drug > here is my brain. I certainly understand that particular strategy. But again, so what? Hedonism, and feelings are all so very physiological. And feelings are just these weird twinges you get, your body influencing your consciousness. So you get out of the bed, to feel weird? Absurd.

 Perhaps you can see why I use these terms to describe myself:

 Atheist. Nihilist. Anarchist. Pessimist. Misanthrope.
 There is no god. There is no meaning. No one has the 'right' to dictate to another. Nothing will change. Human beings are idiots. :P
 Part III soon.Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-18370402357860426822007-09-20T14:22:00.000+01:002007-09-20T14:38:07.008+01:00Best Use for the Good Book<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sy-oFV2Vs6E"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sy-oFV2Vs6E" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object>Here is a small clip I edited together, from the film 'Monkey Warfare'. It's about a couple of anarchist scavengers, and their protégée pot dealer. Very funny, and certainly the best use for the good book, I've ever seen.Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-79041233493346539212007-09-16T11:09:00.000+01:002007-09-16T11:13:15.815+01:00Dawkins Vs the Cannonball<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TIkZ42cmiTA"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TIkZ42cmiTA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-86226845941815667072007-09-13T16:24:00.000+01:002007-09-13T16:26:04.917+01:00A Lesson In Pessimism: Part IA while back, I was browsing through the Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy, when I happened upon a short section called 'Life, Meaning and Value of'.

Lo and behold, it is a detailed rebuttal to the position to which I seem to have become entrenched - that is, it is a discussion and dismissal of pessimism.

Over four parts I will present the main arguments, and where appropriate chip in with my own comments. Enjoy. ;)

 Schopenhauer's Arguments

The most systematic and probably the most influential, though in fact not the gloomiest, of the pessimists was Arthur Schopenhauer. The world, he wrote, is something that ought not to exist: The truth is that "we have not to rejoice but rather to mourn at the existence of the world; that its nonexistence would be preferable to its existence; that it is something which ought not to be." It is absurd to speak of life as a gift, as so many philosophers and thoughtless people have done. "It is evident that everyone would have declined such a gift if he could have seen it and tested it beforehand." To those who assure us that life is only a lesson, we are entitled to reply: "For this very reason I wish I had been left in the peace of the all-sufficient nothing, where I would have no need of lessons or of anything else" (The World as Will and Idea, Vol. III, p. 390).

Happiness, according to Schopenhauer, is unobtainable for the vast majority of humankind. "Everything in life shows that earthly happiness is destined to be frustrated or recognized as illusion." People either fail to achieve the ends they are striving for or else they do achieve them only to find them grossly disappointing. But as soon as a man discovers that a particular goal was not really worth pursuing, his eye is set on a new one and the same illusory quest begins all over again. Happiness, accordingly, always lies in the future or in the past, and "the present may be compared to a small dark cloud which the wind drives over the sunny plain: before and behind it all is bright, only it itself always casts a shadow. The present is therefore always insufficient; but the future is uncertain, and the past is irrevocable" (ibid., p. 383). Men in general, except for those sufficiently rational to become totally resigned, are constantly deluded—"now by hope, now by what was hoped for." They are taken in by "the enchantment of distance," which shows them "paradises." These paradises, however, vanish like "optical illusions when we have allowed ourselves to be mocked by them." The "fearful envy" excited in most men by the thought that somebody else is genuinely happy shows how unhappy they really are, whatever they pretend to others or to themselves. It is only "because they feel themselves unhappy" that "men cannot endure the sight of one whom they imagine happy."

On occasions Schopenhauer is ready to concede that some few human beings really do achieve "comparative" happiness, but this is not of any great consequence. For aside from being "rare exceptions," these happy people are really like "decoy birds"—they represent a possibility that must exist in order to lure the rest of humankind into a false sense of hope. Moreover, happiness, insofar as it exists at all, is a purely "negative" reality. We do not become aware of the greatest blessings of life—health, youth, and freedom—until we have lost them. What is called pleasure or satisfaction is merely the absence of craving or pain. But craving and pain are positive. As for the few happy days of our life—if there are any—we notice them only "after they have given place to unhappy ones."

Schopenhauer not infrequently lapsed from his doctrine of the "negative" nature of happiness and pleasure into the more common view that their status is just as "positive" as that of unhappiness and pain. But he had additional arguments that do not in any way depend on the theory that happiness and pleasure are negative. Perhaps the most important of these is the argument from the "perishableness" of all good things and the ultimate extinction of all our hopes and achievements in death. All our pleasures and joys "disappear in our hands, and we afterwards ask astonished where they have gone." Moreover, a joy that no longer exists does not "count"—it counts as little as if it had never been experienced at all:

That which has been exists no more; it exists as little as that which has never been. But of everything that exists you may say, in the next moment, that it has been. Hence something of great importance in our past is inferior to something of little importance in our present, in that the latter is a reality, and related to the former as something to nothing. ("The Vanity of Existence," in The Will to Live, p. 229)

Some people have inferred from this that the enjoyment of the present should be "the supreme object of life." This is fallacious; for "that which in the next moment exists no more, and vanishes utterly, like a dream, can never be worth a serious effort."

The final "judgment of nature" is destruction by death. This is "the last proof" that life is a "false path," that all man's wishing is "a perversity," and that "nothing at all is worth our striving, our efforts and struggles." The conclusion is inescapable: "All good things are vanity, the world in all its ends bankrupt, and life a business which does not cover its expenses" (The World as Will and Idea, Vol. III, p. 383).

The Pointlessness Of It All

Some of Schopenhauer's arguments can probably be dismissed as the fantasies of a lonely and embittered man who was filled with contempt for humankind and who was singularly incapable of either love or friendship. His own misery, it may be plausibly said, made Schopenhauer overestimate the unhappiness of human beings. It is frequently, but not universally, true that what is hoped for is found disappointing when it is attained, and while "fearful envy" of other people's successes is common enough, real sympathy and generosity are not quite so rare as Schopenhauer made them out to be. Furthermore, his doctrine that pleasure is negative while pain is positive, insofar as one can attach any clear meaning to it, seems glaringly false. To this it should be added, however, that some of Schopenhauer's arguments are far from idiosyncratic and that substantially the same conclusions have been endorsed by men who were neither lonely nor embittered and who did not, as far as one can judge, lack the gift of love or friendship.

If everything wasn't so pointless, I think I'd look forward to reading a lot more from Schopenhauer. Two questions though. Is life worth living? I for one still cannot answer this question. Finding ourselves alive is only a temporary situation anyway, but certainly a life filled with pain and misery would be worse than no life at all. Is happiness negative and pain positive? Like the author of the piece, I must admit this looks false, but as I've discussed before on this blog, happiness is a chemical state of the brain (the action of endorphins if you will) and as such is merely akin to a drug user getting a fix. Whether you think that is an admirable way to spend your time, is of course a personal opinion...

Clarence Darrow

Clarence Darrow, one of the most compassionate men who ever lived, also concluded that life was an "awful joke." Like Schopenhauer, Darrow offered as one of his reasons the apparent aimlessness of all that happens. "This weary old world goes on, begetting, with birth and with living and with death," he remarked in his moving plea for the boy-murderers Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold, "and all of it is blind from the beginning to the end" (Clarence Darrow—Attorney for the Damned, edited by A. Weinberg, New York, 1957). Elsewhere he wrote: "Life is like a ship on the sea, tossed by every wave and by every wind; a ship headed for no port and no harbor, with no rudder, no compass, no pilot; simply floating for a time, then lost in the waves" ("Is Life Worth Living?," p. 43). In addition to the aimlessness of life and the universe, there is the fact of death. "I love my friends," wrote Darrow, "but they all must come to a tragic end."Death is more terrible the more one is attached to things in the world. Life, he concludes, is "not worth while," and he adds (somewhat inconsistently, in view of what he had said earlier) that "it is an unpleasant interruption of nothing, and the best thing you can say of it is that it does not last long" ("Is the Human Race Getting Anywhere?," p. 53).
Darrow was an interesting fellow, and from what I've read of him, he seems to have understood life quite well.

Leo Tolstoy

Leo Tolstoy, unlike Darrow, eventually came to believe in Christianity, or at least in his own idiosyncratic version of Christianity, but for a number of years the only position for which he could see any rational justification was an extreme form of pessimism. During that period (and there is reason to believe that in spite of his later protestations to the contrary, his feelings on this subject never basically changed) Tolstoy was utterly overwhelmed by the thought of his death and the death of those he cared for and, generally, by the transitory nature of all human achievements. "Today or tomorrow," he wrote in "A Confession," "sickness and death will come to those I love or to me; nothing will remain but stench and worms. Sooner or later my affairs, whatever they may be, will be forgotten, and I shall not exist. Then why go on making any effort?" Tolstoy likened the fate of man to that of the traveler in the Eastern tale who, pursued by an enraged beast, seeks refuge in a dry well. At the bottom of the well he sees a dragon that has opened its jaws to swallow him. To escape the enraged beast above and the dragon below, he holds onto a twig that is growing in a crack in the well. As he looks around he notices that two mice are gnawing at the stem of the twig. He realizes that very soon the twig will snap and he will fall to his doom, but at the same time he sees some drops of honey on the leaves of the branch and reaches out with his tongue to lick them. "So I too clung to the twig of life, knowing that the dragon of death was inevitably awaiting me, ready to tear me to pieces.… I tried to lick the honey which formerly consoled me, but the honey no longer gave me pleasure.… I only saw the unescapable dragon and the mice, and I could not tear my gaze from them. And this is not a fable but the real unanswerable truth."

These considerations, according to Tolstoy, inevitably lead to the conclusion that life is a "stupid fraud," that no "reasonable meaning" can be given to a single action or to a whole life. To the questions "What is it for?" "What then?," "Why should I live?" the answer is "Nothing can come of it," "Nothing is worth doing," "Life is not worthwhile."

What ways out are available to a human being who finds himself in this "terrible position"? Judging by the conduct of the people he observed, Tolstoy relates that he could see only four possible "solutions." The first is the way of ignorance. People who adopt this solution (chiefly women and very young and very dull people) have simply not or not yet faced the questions that were tormenting him. Once a person has fully realized what death means, this solution is not available to him. The second way is that of "Epicureanism," which consists in admitting the "hopelessness of life" but seizing as many of life's pleasures as possible while they are within reach. It consists in "disregarding the dragon and the mice and licking the honey in the best way, especially if much of it is around." This, Tolstoy adds, is the solution adopted by the majority of the people belonging to his "circle," by which he presumably means the well-to-do intellectuals of his day. Tolstoy rejects this solution because the vast majority of human beings are not well-to-do and hence have little or no honey at their disposal and also because it is a matter of accident whether one is among those who have honey or those who have not. Moreover, Tolstoy observes, it requires a special "moral dullness," which he himself lacked, to enjoy the honey while knowing the truth about death and the deprivations of the great majority of men. The third solution is suicide. Tolstoy calls this the way of "strength and energy." It is chosen by a few "exceptionally strong and consistent people."After they realize that "it is better to be dead than to be alive, and that it is best of all not to exist," they promptly end the whole "stupid joke." The means for ending it are readily at hand for everybody, but most people are too cowardly or too irrational to avail themselves of them. Finally, there is the way of "weakness." This consists in seeing the dreadful truth and clinging to life nevertheless. People of this kind lack the strength to act rationally and Tolstoy adds that he belonged to this last category.
Ha. Me too. I've quoted that Tolstoy story before, and it really is a very good description of human existence.

Strengths of the Pessimist Position

Is it possible for somebody who shares the pessimists' rejection of religion to reach different conclusions without being plainly irrational? Whatever reply may be possible, any intelligent and realistic person would surely have to concede that there is much truth in the pessimists' claims. That few people achieve real and lasting happiness, that the joys of life (where there are any) pass away much too soon, that totally unpredictable events frequently upset the best intentions and wreck the noblest plans—this and much more along the same lines is surely undeniable.
Although one should not dogmatize that there will be no significant improvements in the future, the fate of past revolutions, undertaken to rid man of some of his apparently avoidable suffering, does not inspire great hope. The thought of death, too, even in those who are not so overwhelmed by it as Tolstoy, can be quite unendurable.

Moreover, to many who have reflected on the implications of physical theory it seems plain that because of the constant increase of entropy in the universe all life anywhere will eventually die out. Forebodings of this kind moved Bertrand Russell to write his famous essay "A Free Man's Worship," in which he concluded that "all the
labors of the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genius, are destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar system, and the whole temple of man's achievement must inevitably be buried beneath the debris of a universe in ruins." Similarly, Wilhelm Ostwald observed that "in the longest run the sum of all human endeavor has no recognizable significance." Although it is disputed whether physical theory really has such gloomy implications, it would perhaps be wisest to assume that the position endorsed by Russell and Ostwald is well-founded.

Enough pessimism and reality for one day. I'll leave you to think about that for a bit. Part II will follow shortly...Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-29051440341846075062007-09-07T00:50:00.000+01:002007-09-07T00:55:23.946+01:00A Line of Spectacular Proportions<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/V_6mpl3htvw"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V_6mpl3htvw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object>So I like this clip. When I think about human evolution, I often use this type of sweeping imagery and it really does help you comprehend the mind-boggling timescales involved. Just think of it. All those generations of stupid apes, sitting around not doing very much (think, eating and fucking). Maybe we were better off when we couldn't even string a sentence together.

And what came of it all? We sit around and bash our keyboards and trot out our self-important bollocks. Fuck the world. Fuck humanity. I think I'm just about ready to take my vow of silence, and never utter a single word again. If it was okay for my ancestors, then grunting and snarling is just dandy by me.

snarl.Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-14420536686615802522007-09-01T21:28:00.000+01:002007-09-01T21:55:26.637+01:00Manhattan<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9mIfUf4wU0Y"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9mIfUf4wU0Y" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object>This clip is from Woody Allen's film "Manhattan", which I watched last night. It's nowhere near as deep and existential as "Love & Death" but it's still very charming and good for a laugh. Funny that Allen should provide his opinion as to why life is worth living. I've been sitting on a series of posts which deals with pretty much the same topic. And my delay in posting the thing, is because I don't know whether I think life is worth living or not.

Though I'm not convinced by Woody Allen's list, the fact that none of us asks to be born must certainly warrant consideration. And then the question becomes not, is life worth living, but, finding ourselves alive, is it better to commit suicide or continue living? And I think I'll only be able to answer that question on my death-bed (and depending on whether the intervening years/months/days/hours are filled with happiness or sadness, the answer will probably be different).

Anyway, I wish I had a friend like Woody. A pain shared is a pain halved (so I'm told - though I've yet to empirically test it). ;)Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-18507137611825070892007-08-29T10:06:00.000+01:002007-08-29T10:16:38.561+01:00An Accumulation of Errors<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eZnIDEL5qmQ"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eZnIDEL5qmQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object>
"All DNA ever needed to do was make perfect copies of itself. Left to its own devices, all that would exist on this planet would be little naked molecules of DNA.

We are NOTHING more than the accumulation of its mistakes, generated randomly and guided by natural selection".

Richard Dawkins
Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-73249535744655989862007-08-21T15:46:00.000+01:002007-09-29T18:55:07.657+01:00Dawkins Makes an Eye<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lEKyqIJkuDQ"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lEKyqIJkuDQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"></object></embed>Here is a short clip from an old Horizon programme, with Richard Dawkins explaining how the evolution of the eye, might have proceeded. Enjoy.Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-58886009290598692152007-08-01T21:02:00.000+01:002007-08-01T22:46:52.655+01:00Where Is Everybody?Occasionally I like to ponder the possibility of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe (given the fact that there's bloody well none on this planet) and so I was intrigued by Stephen Webb's book 'Where Is Everybody?', which covers some of the top reasons why we've yet to encounter ET. My personal favourite is amongst the selection on offer (they have no desire to communicate), but it is an extract from the conclusion that I want to share:

I believe that the Fermi paradox tells us mankind is the only sapient, sentient species in the Galaxy. (We are probably also unique in our Local Group of galaxies, since many Local Group galaxies are unlikely to possess a GHZ. Perhaps we are even unique in the whole Universe — although the finite speed of light means ETCs could now exist in very distant galaxies without us yet being aware of them.) Yet the Galaxy need not be sterile. The picture I have is of a Galaxy in which simple life is not uncommon; complex, multicellular life is much rarer, but not vanishingly rare. There may be tens of thousands of exceptionally interesting biospheres out there in the Galaxy. But only one planet—Earth— has intelligent life-forms.

Such a picture is often criticized as violating the Principle of Mediocrity. The picture seems to suggest that Earth, and mankind, is special. Is this not the height of arrogance? Paradoxically, at least to my mind, the expectation that other sentient species must be out there itself smacks of arrogance. Or rather, it achieves the tricky feat of being both self-important and self-effacing at the same time. At the core of this expectation is the belief that human adaptations, attributes such as creativity, and general intelligence, that we think important, are qualities to which other Earth organisms aspire and alien creatures may possess in even more abundance. Allow us a few more million years, so the logic seems to go, and we might evolve into the cognitively, technologically and spiritually superior beings that already exist out there. But the converse of this position is surely false. Give chimps another few million years, so the reasoning goes, and they too will be as intelligent and creative as us. But why should they be? Chimpanzees are good at being chimpanzees; dolphins are good at being dolphins; elephants are good at being elephants . . . Rather than patronizing these species for not exhibiting human characteristics, we should respect them on their own terms for earning a living in a harsh world that cares not whether they live or die.

On the other hand it is undeniable that mankind is profoundly different from every other species on Earth. We alone have language, a high level of self-consciousness, and a moral sense. We are special. But surely our uniqueness could not have arisen by mere chance, by the blind and random groping of evolution, could it? Well, why not?

As Stephen Jay Gould pointed out in a delightful analogy, we can account for any growth in the complexity of living organisms through a drunkard's walk effect. Imagine a drunk leaning against a wall. A few meters to his right is a gutter. If the drunk takes random equal-sized steps to his left or to his right, then he inevitably ends up in the gutter. No force propels him to his right; he moves randomly, and at any time he is as likely to move to his left as to his right. But the wall eventually stops his leftward motion; over time, there is only one direction in which to move. Eventually, completely by chance, the drunk stumbles into the gutter. The same effect can explain any advance we might observe in the complexity of organisms. At one end we have a wall of minimum complexity that organisms can possess and still be alive. This wall is where life began, and where most life on Earth remains. Over time, evolution tinkers with more advanced organisms; when life itself was young, that was the only available possibility — evolution could not try out simpler designs, because its path was blocked by the wall of minimum complexity. Some of the new designs worked, in the sense that the organisms were adapted well enough in their immediate environments to survive long enough to reproduce. And so evolution staggered on, like a blind drunk, tentatively producing organisms of greater complexity. After almost 4 billion years of random tinkering, we end up with the living world we see today. But there was nothing inevitable about the process; the purpose of evolution was not to produce us. Play the tape of history again, and there is no reason to suppose Homo sapiens — or any equivalent sentient species — would play any role at all.

Many eminent scientists argue that Mind is in some way predestined in this Universe. That far from being the outcome of chance, Mind is an inevitable outcome of deep laws of self-complexity. They argue that, over aeons, organisms will inevitably self-complexify and form a "ladder of progress": prokaryote to eukaryote to plants to animals to intelligent species like us. It is a comforting idea, but I know of no definite evidence in its favor, and I believe the silence of the Universe argues against it. The famous French biologist Jacques Monod wrote that "evolution is chance caught on the wing." Even more evocatively, he wrote that "Man at last knows he is alone in the unfeeling immensity of the Universe, out of which he has emerged only by chance." It is a melancholy thought. I can think of only one thing sadder: if the only animals with self-consciousness, the only species that can light up the Universe with acts of love and humor and compassion, were to extinguish themselves through acts of stupidity.

If we survive, we have a Galaxy to explore and make our own. If we destroy ourselves, if we ruin Earth before we are ready to leave our home planet . . . well, it could be a long, long time before a creature from another species looks up at its planet's night sky and asks: "Where is everybody?"
And despite the fact that the universe irritates me in so many different ways, I can't help remind myself, that I'm taking it all, far. too. seriously...Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-83747821331523489502007-07-30T20:17:00.000+01:002007-07-30T20:33:31.937+01:00Bye Bye Bergman<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I9mcTCZwC8Y"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I9mcTCZwC8Y" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object>So Ingmar Bergman died today. At least he had a good innings. The clip is from Bergman's existential classic, 'The Seventh Seal', which I watched recently and can highly recommend.

It seems rude not to mention that earlier this month a friend of mine died, who also had had a fairly good innings.

So here's to Death, the biggest (chess playing) cunt of them all! And as my friend used to say, "Live long and prosper"...Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-16722703444426011682007-07-22T20:57:00.000+01:002007-07-22T21:18:39.552+01:00Isn't Evolution Funny?<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bKpZUsRJWBg"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bKpZUsRJWBg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object><object height="350" width="425"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/c6wyR4SOkbI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object>It's certainly been a while since I posted any words. Unfortunately I'm still not quite in the mood for anything too deep and existential, but I did want to share these two video clips. The first is from a National Geographic documentary on human evolution and shows what happens when chimpanzees are threatened by artificial leopards (it made me laugh!). And the second is from the brilliant 13 part documentary 'The Ascent of Man', by Jacob Bronowski, which reminded me a lot of Carl Sagan's Cosmos, and is well worth a watch.

There may be more to follow...but don't hold your breath...Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-7912376280206565402007-06-28T00:59:00.002+01:002007-06-28T01:04:06.614+01:00OptimismLouiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-17828981369491841302007-06-11T14:15:00.001+01:002007-06-11T21:57:19.513+01:00Shit + Shit = ShitLouiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-10819821821698188972007-06-04T15:39:00.000+01:002007-06-04T15:47:28.398+01:00The Sadness Never EndsLouiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-41889360134559321542007-06-02T17:28:00.000+01:002007-06-02T17:29:06.318+01:00Dogma Free AmericaI've been beset with technical issues this week (a sign from god perhaps) and combined with my increasing boredom, explains why I've not posted as regularly as I usually do. Things appear to be working now, so I'll continue...

Dogma Free America is a podcast which specialises in the 'news and views of dogma', and recently Rich, who runs it, asked if he could interview me about my experiences in parapsychology. Former media whore that I am, I did accept his offer, and I've just had news that the podcast is now up and live. I've not had a listen (and since I know what I said, I can't be bothered listening to me again) but I'm sure some readers may be interested; if not in what I have to ramble on about, perhaps in the other interviews that can be found there.Louiehttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-39491025126983264882007-05-27T20:39:00.000+01:002007-05-27T20:29:05.908+01:00To Be Or Not To BeOne of my problems is, I feel my angst. It can grip me, like a terror, and sometimes drive me to tears. And nobody can help. You can't petition god for a reprieve, nor expect special consideration from fate. All of our ancestors are dead, and we're all headed in the same direction...

Yesterday I sat in the bath and read two plays by Camus. The first, Caligula, is the true story of a nihilistic man, made king of the world, and the absurd acts he inflicts on those around him:

CALIGULA: ... But I'm not insane. In fact I've never been so lucid. It's just that I suddenly felt a desire for the impossible. [Pauses.] Things as they are don't strike me as satisfactory.

HELICON: That's a widespread opinion.

CALIGULA: I suppose it is. But I didn't know it before. Now I know. [Still in the same matter-of-fact tone.] The world as it is is unbearable. That's why I need the moon, or happiness, or immortality, or something that may sound insane, but would help correct this world.

HELICON: That sounds fine. But no one could ever act on it.

CALIGULA: [rising to his feet, but still with perfect calmness] You know nothing about it. It's because no one dares to be logical and carry it through to its conclusion that nothing is ever achieved. [He studies Helicon's face.] I can see what you're thinking. What a fuss over the death of a woman! No, that's not it. I do recall that a few days ago a woman I loved died. But love is a side issue. Her death is no more than the symbol of a truth that makes the moon necessary to me. A childishly simple and obvious truth, a little stupid even, but hard to discover and harder to bear.

HELICON: And what is this truth you've discovered, Caius?

CALIGULA: [his eyes averted, in a toneless voice] People die. And they are not happy.

HELICON: [after a short pause] That's a truth we manage to live with Caligula. It doesn't prevent most Romans from enjoying their lunch.

CALIGULA: [suddenly throws Helicon down violently] That's because everyone around me is living a lie, and I want people to live with the truth. Remember, Helicon, I have the means of forcing them to live with the truth. They are deprived of knowledge and need a teacher who knows what he's talking about.
And from a little further on:

CHEREA: Since this world is the only one we have, why not plead its cause?

CALIGULA: No plea is necessary. The verdict's given: humanity has no special place in this world and whoever realizes that wins his freedom. [rising] You are not free. I alone am free. Rejoice, for you finally have an emperor to teach you freedom. Go away, Cherea, and you, too, Scipio. Go and spread the good news to all Romans.

[They go out. Caligula has turned away, hiding his eyes.]

CAESONIA: You're crying. But what's really changed in your life? You may have loved Drusilla, but you loved others, myself included, at the same time. Surely that wasn't enough to set you roaming the countryside for three days and nights and bring you back with this . . . this cruel look on your face?

CALIGULA: [turning round to her] Why drag Drusilla into this? Can't you imagine a person shedding for anything other than love?

CAESONIA: I'm sorry, Caius. I was only trying to understand.

CALIGULA: Men cry because the world's all wrong. [She starts to embrace him.] No, Caesonia. [She draws back.] But stay beside me.

CAESONIA: Whatever you want. [Sits down.] I'm no baby. I know that life's sometimes a sad business. But why deliberately set out to make it worse?

CALIGULA: You can't understand. But that doesn't matter. Perhaps I'll find a way out. Only I feel the stirrings of nameless creatures within me, forcing their way up into the light - and I'm helpless against them. [He moves closer to her, but doesn't see her] I knew people felt anguish, but I didn't know what the word meant. Like everyone else I imagined it was the soul that suffered. But it's my body that's in pain. Everywhere. In my chest, in my legs and arms. Even my skin is raw, my head is buzzing, I feel like vomiting. But worst of all is this grotesque taste in my mouth. Not blood, nor death, nor fever, but a mixture of all three. All I have to do is to stir my tongue for everything to become black and for human beings to revolt me.

Camus understood (and perhaps maybe, Caligula too). And the moral of Caligula is? You, live and you die, and hopefully a mad man doesn't fuck your wife in front of you and then have you killed...

The second play, called Cross Purpose, is the telling of the story, which is told briefly in 'The Outsider':

A man had left some Czech village to go and make his fortune. Twenty-five years later he'd come back rich, with wife and child. His mother and his sister were running a hotel in his native village. In order to surprise them, he'd left his wife and child at another hotel and gone to see his mother who hadn't recognized him when he'd walked in. Just for fun, he'd decided to book a room. He'd shown them his money. During the night his mother and sister had clubbed him to death with a hammer to steal his money, and then thrown his body into the river. The next morning. the wife had come along and without realizing revealed the traveller's identity. The mother had hanged herself. The sister had thrown herself down a well.
Ha. What a cheerful tale, but what a fun play it makes. Together, they are considered Camus' most pessimistic and nihilistic work.

And so I've been coming to the conclusion that there exists a great body of human thought, which argues that existence is pointless, absurd and arbitrary. That we live and die, with no reason or rhyme, and yet everyday we tell ourselves the opposite. There's only so many times it's worth saying or thinking that everything is pointless. Maybe if the world was a different place, and humans were a different type of species...

In 'The Outsider', Colin Wilson writes:

 The atmosphere of the existentialist outsider is unpleasant to breathe. There is something nauseating, anti-life, about it: these men, without motive who stay in their rooms because there seems to be no reason for doing anything else.
And I realised after reading Wilson's book, that I am an outsider. There is no 'reason' for doing anything. And if there's something unpleasant about the outsider's atmosphere, rest assured he feels the same way, outside his room, breathing in the 'normal' air!

Finally, thinking about Camus' plays reminded me of 'Hamlet' (which I read over 10 years ago in college) and yet, only now, do I get it:

 To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

To be or not to be eh? Urghhh, I don't know...Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-21699046.post-64476664361081780162007-05-22T13:51:00.000+01:002007-05-22T13:51:30.913+01:00Hypnotized SheepI'm in a super-pissed off mood at the moment (long story - multiple reasons) but I want to share two stories that I got out of Colin Wilson's 'The Outsider' (which I've just finished reading):

 [Tolstoy] cites an Eastern fable of a man who clings to a shrub on the side of a pit to escape an enraged beast at the top and a dragon at the bottom. Two mice gnaw at the roots of his shrub. Yet while hanging, waiting for death, he notices some drops of honey on the leaves of the shrub, and reaches out and licks them. This is man, suspended between the possibilities of violent accidental death and inevitable natural death, disease accelerating them, yet still eating, drinking, laughing at Fernandel in the cinema. This is the man who calls the outsider morbid, because he lacks appetite for the honey!
And:

 There is an Eastern tale that speaks about a very rich magician who had a great many sheep. But at the same time this magician was very mean. He did not want to hire shepherds, nor did he want to erect a fence about the pasture where the sheep were grazing. The sheep consequently often wandered into the forest, fell into ravines and so on, and above all, they ran away, for they knew that the magician wanted their flesh and their skins, and this they did not like.

At last the magician found a remedy. He hypnotized his sheep and suggested to them, first of all, that they were immortal and that no harm was being done to them when they were skinned; that on the contrary, it would be very good for them and pleasant; secondly he suggested that the magician was a good master who loved his flock so much that he was ready to do anything in the world for them; and in the third place, he suggested that if anything at all were going to happen to them, it was not going to happen just then, at any rate not that day, and therefore they had no need to think about it. Further, the magician suggested to his sheep, that they were not sheep at all; to some of them he suggested that they were lions, to some that they were eagles, to some that they were men, to others that they were magicians.

After this all his cares and worries about the sheep came to an end. They never ran away again, but quietly awaited the time when the magician would require their flesh and skins.

More from 'The Outsider' when I'm less pissed off...Louiehttp://firstname.lastname@example.com


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subset: commoncrawl


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Justin's 2nd Annual Pre-season Top 30 Goaltenders List (20-11)
Welcome to Part II of Justin's Preseason Top 30 Goaltenders list. In case you missed rankings 30-21, here they are. Before we begin, let's take a quick look at a couple more tendys that didn't make the cut this year after gracing the list in 2012…
Ilya Bryzgalov, Free Agent: I caught a lot of flack for ranking Mr. Universe at #20 last season. Bryz is a very strange case. He is still a pretty decent goalie, but he is a massive headcase and the circus following him out of Philadelphia contributed to his omission from the list. It will be interesting to see if he is able to catch on with an NHL club at some point this season.
Jaroslav Halak, St. Louis Blues: Halak actually ranked #12 last season, but recurring injuries and generally poor play pushed the Slovakian out. If he comes back healthy and has a strong, full campaign this year, don't be surprised to see him back on the list next season. He is still only 28, but his lower-body injuries are starting to pile up, which is very concerning.
With that out of the way, rankings 20-11. Read more »


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Wisconsin Rep. Evan Goyke (D-Milwaukee) is sponsoring a package of five foreclosure-related bills to address the state's ongoing housing issues. The number of bank-related foreclosures in Milwaukee declined this year compared to last, but the city is still seeing tax-based foreclosures.
Its 2014 budget includes $11.7 million in spending for Mayor Tom Barrett's Strong Neighborhoods Investment Plan, which calls for the demolition of hundreds of dilapidated homes and the sale of as many as 350 city-owned foreclosed homes. Goyke's bundle of proposals include a realtor incentive, which would encourage real estate agents to sell properties with a foreclosure judgment and a sale value of less than $50,000 by removing income tax reporting requirements for the commission income earned by an agent. Another component would require a plaintiff filing a foreclosure action to post a demolition bond of $15,000, to be held by the clerk of courts in each county. Another bill would increase the filing fee that the plaintiff in a foreclosure filing must pay to initiate the lawsuit, with the extra money used to install lighting on existing abandoned homes.
Gov. Scott Walker has pledged $2 million in state funding from the Department of Financial Institutions to help Milwaukee deal with vacant homes, and one of Goyke's proposed bills would allocate another $2 million in state funds to match. Yet another would give municipalities and lending institutions the right to enter foreclosed properties and address any possible problems.


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Location: South Bend, IN
Love Hotel Hell? Visit my Hotel Hell blog here.
I do not believe this place has closed due to food prices increasing, all others world restaurant have to pay more for foods, I think he had to work, really work, like all restaurants making good meals have to do, maybe too much for someone.
Beside I read here http://jwillys.com/about.html J Wlly is trying to produce and sell on his own the J Willy's Barbeque Sauce. I hope the day he will Chef Gordon Ramsay would make public his recipe.
That Rick guy seemed really nice, and the linked interview makes him sound even more humble and sweet. Most chefs and owners flip Ramsay a lot of cr*p, but out of everybody I've seen so far in Seasons 1 and 2, Rick really deserved for this to work for him. I'm really sorry to hear that his place just couldn't be salvaged in the end. I hope wherever he ended up, that he's doing all right. He learned a lot of hard lessons from Ramsay but he seems to have captured those lessons very well, so a fresh start may be just what he needed. I really liked him and wish him and his wife all the best.ReplyDelete
It really has nothing to do with the food price hikes, the closure is really the timing, during the US Economic Turbulence. Food prices are on the rise globally, not just in America.ReplyDelete
I didn't think Rick and his wife were very sweet. They kept blaming the other owner and acting like victims. No personal responsibility or accountability. I felt bad for the other guy, how depressing to be trying so hard but your partners keep beating you down, not surprised they closed down but I hope that guy is doing okay.ReplyDelete
South Bend is having trouble, as is much of that area. I think they genuinely did try, but the economy got in the way.ReplyDelete
Ummm... duh, for anyone that says that it is horrible that Rick and his wife were mean for blaming the other owner, think about a verbal contract between owners. With partnerships, there is usually one partner that is the 'managing partner'. So, if he doesn't do well, it IS his fault, because he took on the responsibility. If he fails to do so, he needs to ask the others for help or ask to be bought out of the business before it goes downhill.ReplyDelete
Totally disagree you invest your money it's your responsibility to protect your investment no one else's. Your going to be dumb enough to depend on someone else because your too lazy that's on you. Your money your responsibilityReplyDelete
Good. That place looked awful. I wouldn't use the bathroom there.ReplyDelete
South Bend is a dump. It isn't surprising this place existed there, and closed. The owner Rick seemed like a blubbering fool with his on-camera whimpering. What an embarrassment.ReplyDelete
It closed... It's normal : the ONLY thing who could save this restaurant would have been to FIRE the "manager" who was prone screwing up at the first occasion (and who did it during the 2 evenings where he could work correctly)... A wimp, coward, a pathetic jerk with empty gaze and the mouth in hen's ass unable to do nothing of his 10 fingers... Certainly someone who wanted a job and who LIED to have this one... Poor owners... But WHY did they let him at the commands in spite of the case that he prooved his incapacity !!!ReplyDelete


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Hubert Gall
Meet the man behind the accordion in Cirque du Soleil's KÀ and find out why he relies on Roland.
Small Size, Big Performance
Roland's revolutionary V-Accordion® has profoundly changed the musical world since its debut in 2004. As the digital-modeling concept has grown in popularity around the world, so too has the need for more V-Accordion models. Embodying the digital advantages of the flagship, the new ultra-light FR-1b puts V-Accordion power in the hands of students, beginners and keyboard players!
Ideal for Students…
Thanks to its small size, the FR-1b is perfect for young beginners and music schools.
…And for Performers
Compact, but with no compromise in sound quality, the FR-1b is ideal for stage performers and keyboardists. With its long battery life (uses 8 x AA type 2000mAH Ni-MH batteries) you'll get over five hours of performance per pack — plenty of time to roam the stage with the FR-1b!
Make Your FR-1b Unique
The FR-1b comes with six variations of inlay sheets that enable owners to change the appearance of their FR-1b from time to time by changing these sheets. The player can also create his/her own custom designed inlay sheets using A4 PC printer, or by using any kind of commercially designed paper.
Play Anytime and Anywhere
With high-quality earphones included in the FR-1b package, this silent accordion is extremely convenient for practicing at night and without disturbing your family or neighbors.
A Speakerless, Light Model
Connect your FR-1b to Roland amplifiers (MOBILE CUBE, CM-30, CUBE Street®, SA-300) and be impressed by the power of your sound!
Advanced Musical Expression
With the FR-1b, you can simulate up to seven different Accordions. And with the innovative four Organ presets (Harmonic Bar) and rotary effect, you can produce amazing organ sounds as well! You can even play your own beats, adding drums with the bass and chord buttons!
Padded carry bag for the FR-1 series accordions.
This accessory pack includes a custom throne and music stand with carry bag.
A state-of-the-art module with high-quality music styles, SMF and audio file playback via USB, and more.
Versatile and portable, the new CM-30 CUBE Monitor delivers 30 watts of audio punch.
Comfortable and lightweight open-air headphones optimized for digital pianos.
Light and comfortable headphones with 40mm drivers and rotating earpieces.
Professional studio headphones with open air design.
Comfortable and accurate headphones for superior monitoring.
Offer the clarity, sonic accuracy, and comfort needed for mixing and silent practice.
Roland's top-of-the-line headphones.
RH-5 headphones are perfect for electronic musical instruments such as Roland's digital pianos and V-Drums.
Attractive in-ear headphones with deeper bass and extended frequency performance.
If you have questions about operating your Roland or BOSS product, please check our Knowledge Base for answers to the most common questions.
You can also contact our Product Support department by phone or email.
In addition, we have a library of Owner's Manuals and Support Documents that you can download and reference. If Support Documents are available for this product, they will be listed below.


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Patong, being the centre of nightlife on the island and indeed the south of Thailand, is the place to go for live and live-mix DJ music. For a town of this size there are a surprising amount of choices when it comes down to opting for folk, heavy rock, house or hip-hop. Patong, being the centre of nightlife on the island and indeed the south of Thailand, is the place to go for live and live-mix DJ music. For a town of this size there are a surprising amount of choices when it comes down to opting for folk, heavy rock, house or hip-hop.
Patong Beach Road is a typical beachside esplanade during the day with sun-seekers strolling up and down the road. However the scene changes radically by night when many people dress up and go out to grab some ear candy – otherwise known as live music.
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|Hong by Starlight with John Gray Sea Canoe
Banana Bar is an open-air pub & restaurant and a part of Patong Beach Hotel. On the Beach Road, towards Soi Bangla and just outside Banana Disco, (a tremendously popular venue), Banana Bar offers live music nightly by the popular Sandman Band as well as an Elvis Show every Friday night from 20:30 – 21:30. Booking in advance in high season is recommended.
Opening Hours: Nightly from 17:00 until late. The Sandman Band play nightly between 21:30 – 24:30
Location: : In front of Banana Disco, not far from Bangla Road
Tel: +66 (0)76-340301-2
Hard Rock is the latest addition to the Patong live music scene and is located on the Rat-U-Thit/Ruamjai Road corner adjacent to Courtyard Marriott Resort at the southern end of Patong. Situated on a 1,330sqm site, Hard Rock offers a 300-seater restaurant and bar area, patio seating and their signature retail Rock Shop which houses some impressive memorabilia from famous stars such as Madonna, Elvis Presley and Guns N' Roses. Join them for nightly music from 20:50 till 01:30. Food & drinks can be on the expensive side but they offer regular 'buy 1 get 1 free' drink deals to those who join in on their 'talent games'. Be brave and get up on stage: life's cheaper that way. Read More...
Opening Hours: Restaurant open daily from 11:00 – 02:00, Merchandise open from 10:00 – 02:00, Talent games usually take place from 22:00 – 24:00
Location: Adjacent to the Courtyard Marriott at the southern end of Rat-U-Thit Road
Tel: +66 (0) 76-340210
Molly Malone's is still going strong after more than a decade of delivering Guinness, Kilkenny pub food and good, semi-acoustic music. Expect jigs and reels and plenty of good-natured humour from talented musicians. Live music nightly from 21:30 onward. Read More...
Opening Hours: Daily from 09:00 to 02:00
Location: next to McDonald's
Tel: +66 (0)76 292 771
Red Hot (formerly Margarita's) is a step above the usual Bangla brashness and is a perfect place to people-watch and listen to live bands playing every evening from 19:30 onwards. With food, TV and a pool table.
Opening Hours: 12:00 until late
Location: On the corner of Bangla Road and Rat-U-Thit
Further north, The Port at Banthai Beach Resort has nightly live performances that usually get people up and dancing, even though it's more of a dining location. Filipino and even African acts perform there.
Opening Hours: 18:00 – 01:00
Location: Near Starbucks, in front of Banthai Beach Resort
Type : +66 (0) 76 340850-4
Rock City is the High Temple of live heavy metal and hard rock music in Patong Beach. First opened in 2005 along the Beach Road, it moved to its present location (facing Bangla Road on Rat-U-Thit road) in 2008 and has been a success story ever since. Its central location, in the same area as Tai Pan Disco, Rock Hard a Go-Go and Jungceylon makes it difficult to miss. Rock City's main door is guarded by two Predator-like statues made of recycled engine spare parts and is overhung by a big screen advertising the place. Read More...
Opening Hours: Nightly
Location: Diagonally opposite Soi Bangla
Scruffy Murphy's is more than just a place to get cold Guinness and pub food or to watch a live band. Since opening its doors in 2001, it has become a popular hangout for tourists including couples with young kids. Live music nightly, except Sundays by The Blessed (Monday to Thursday) and Neil & the Red Hot Potatoes (Friday and Saturday) from 22:00 onward. Scruffy's probably has the longest happy hour in town. It runs from 10:00 – 18:00. Read More...
Opening Hours: 10:00 until late
Location: Near McDonald's, about a 50-metre walk down Soi Bangla from the beach, on the left-hand side
From 2409 THB
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Category Archives: Uncategorized
Men, Commitment, Tradition & The Independent Woman: PBG Responds
This morning, I had the opportunity to read a post on SingleBlackMale.org entitled "Have Blurred Gender Roles Pushed Men Away From Commitment" written by a man that tweets as @DamnPops. I've been a reader of SBM for a few years and I check the site frequently to see what opinions some men have for the world from time to time. I saw...Read More »
#BlackGirlMagic: Living and Breathing And Claiming It
I've had this thought about what I love to call the "Magic of Black Women" for a very long time. Many years. But I've never been able to articulate it. I know it when I see it. I know it when I feel it, but it is such a phenomenal state of being and doing, that words always escape me when it...Read More »
Fat Girl Fairytales: The Amazing Transformation of Jennifer Hudson
Can we talk about Jennifer Hudson being in cahoots with those "diet" people over at Weight Watchers to make people think that FAT=HORRIBLE & TACKY? Yes, let's do that. I've been meaning to rant about this for at least a week. I'm about sick and tired of seeing Jennifer Hudson in these awful TV ads for Weight Watchers. She's been wailing like a...Read More »
My Experience With The ICTC Full-Circle Birth Companion Training
I did it! I'm a doula!! Well, a "provisional" doula, anyway. The Full-Circle Birth Companion training that I completed this past weekend through the International Center for Traditional Childbearing is just the first leap forward in this journey to doula that I'm on. Now I have to complete a series of writings, reading and class audits as well as attend five births...Read More »
Black Mamas BabyWearing: It's Our Culture And It's Best Practices
I guess it will be "Babies & Motherhood" week here on Dirty Pretty Thangs, huh? Not much dirtier or prettier in my humble opinion. I was just on Twitter talking with a few mothers (new/veteran/aspiring) about how we carry our babies from one place to another (funny, Daddies never chime in on this subject). Somebody had asked why strollers are so expensive...Read More »
Hey You Asked: Advice For A Transitioning Naturalista
Dear PBG, I am 24 yrs old and have never had the interest or desire to transition to natural hair until now. My hair was falling out in patches and the breakage was unbearable. I cut my hair in May and I haven't had a perm since February. I have been researching how to transition to natural hair but everywhere I look someone...Read More »
The Matriarchal Legacy of The Black Woman's Righteous Anger
Stop acting like we don't have a right to this collective anger. Anybody with a brain that thinks and eyes that see and nose that knows KNOWS that we have a right to this anger. The "Angry Black Woman" is angry for a multitude of reasons. We've been America's favorite Whipping Girl since the first African woman set her foot in Virginia...Read More »
Forever 21 Accessories Haul
About a month ago, I ended up in the gigantic new Forever 21 in Downtown D.C. with my daughter. This isn't a store I'm ever in alone. As the name suggests, it's geared more toward the younger set so I am usually in there with my daughter financing her fashion fetish. This time around I was able to cop a few goodies...Read More »
I'm Going To Be A Doula: Chip In!
After working many years as an Early Care and Eduction Specialist with infants, toddlers and preschoolers and as a private nanny, supporting, educating and nurturing children as well as their parents, I have finally decided to add "doula" to my repertoire. I am going to be a doula. I know, I know. You're wondering: "What is a doula??" Well, here's the...Read More »
Checking In With My Inner Moon
"..by honouring the demands of our bleeding, our blood gives us something in return. The crazed bitch from irritation hell recedes. In her place arises a side of ourselves with whom we may not-at first- be comfortable. She is a vulnerable, highly perceptive genius who can ponder a given issue and take her world by storm. When we're quiet and bleeding, we...Read More »


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Thursday, December 13th, 2012
Price: $60 min. donation to Campus Cats
Bart was most emphatically the runt of the litter, less than half the weight of his 6(!) sisters. We weren't even sure we could save him. But no worries…tiny Bart grew and grew. And played and played. He is unstoppable. And inexhaustible. And he is still a work-in-progress. Bart started life as a little black fuzzy with goofy white hairs sticking out here and there. He is transforming from feline porcupine to a sleek and silvery tigerette. But beware, those who can't resist his extreme good looks…this manic little mannie is not recommended as an only cat or as a lapcat. Bart needs a companion to keep him busy. (Hint: His sisters are used to his antics and need no introductions.) And laps are not his forte; though perfectly sweet and friendly, he simply hasn't the time. We solemnly promise you will never have a dull moment with this guy. Healthy, vaccinated, neutered. Call 206-524-7326 or 206-522-4272 to arrange for a meeting — if you dare.


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In 2012, traffic incidents were the leading cause of officer fatalities, as they have been for 14 of the last 15 years.
But at the same time, 2012 had the lowest number of law enforcement officers to die in traffic-related incidents since 1991 (with 43 fatalities).
Total: 127
Percentage breakdown of 50 traffic-related fatalities in 2012: