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| QUOTATIONS 785-812 |
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| QUOTATIONS 785-812 785. One can acquire, perhaps, a better appreciation of human behaviour and, hopefully, develop bigger tolerance toward humanity at large, by entertaining a proposition that most men and women never grow up either intellectually or emotionally since their formative childhood years, and remain, essentially, children in the physical bodies of adults for the rest of their lives. If this supposition is accepted as true, it could also help to explain why the few, who not only look but think and behave like "real" adults, consistently find themselves out of touch with the rest, for no amount of intelligence, which is predominantly self-referential, can help much in understanding of those who are substantially different from us. It is also possible that such "real" adults have never been "real" children in the first place and their physical form just has caught up with their inner essence when they have grown up, which makes their efforts to identify with the rest so much more difficult, if not futile. 786. It is both regrettable and disappointing to an impartial observer that the artistic community has lately shown itself to be as monolithic and unbending in its blanket defence (all done in the name of artistic freedom) of even the most degrading and anti-social pornography, as the former Communist leaders were in their uncompromising, unequivocal and, as recent events have revealed, mostly hypocritical and self-serving ideological proclamations. 787. Romantic relations aside, most men prefer the company of other men, as most women the company of other women, and for at least one obvious reason: a man is judged and accepted by other men, and a woman by other women not by the way they look but, for what they are. That is why the very attractive members of each gender respectively prefer the company of the opposite sex, while the least attractive or even simply ordinary - of their own. 788. There is nothing wrong with the division of labour per se, as long as anyone willing and able to work has something to do. But the division of labour, that leads to the situation when the growing number of people become superfluous and redundant, and the population is getting increasingly divided into those who are allowed and those who are not allowed to work, with the former getting relatively smaller and the latter relatively bigger all the time, such division cannot be defended not only from a moral, but also from an economic point of view. 789. Only a person with a strong constitution can practice as a physician who is consistently subjected to physical and psychological stress and exposed, quite often, to various types of contagious diseases. At the same time, since a doctor, by necessity, must be a very healthy person, he lacks personal experience of what ails his patients not only in the specific cases but, what is more important, in the general feeling of being sick. As a result, being only human, a doctor has little empathy with his patients, since it is as hard for somebody who is satiated with food to understand the hungry as for the one who is healthy to empathize with the ill. Which brings us to the essential paradox contained in many common human dilemmas: the same qualities which make us suitable for certain occupation for one reason, very often impair our abilities to perform them well for the different ones. 790. Since the crowd consists, mainly, of individuals sharing at least one trait in common - a limited capacity to comprehend the complexity of life, and who are also more or less aware of this deficiency, and somewhat embarrassed by it - the crowd is forever enchanted with the things that are mysterious, obscure and essentially incomprehensible, for such things make its members feel equal (albeit in a negative sense) to the wisest of men, who when faced with such inexplicable phenomena are just as helpless as the ordinary folks. From the collective point of view of the crowd, given the impossibility for the majority to attain an equality of the knowledgeable, an equality of the ignorant as a consolation prize is vastly preferable to the painful acknowledgement of personal inability to understand when others do: a man, no matter how mediocre he is, loathes to admit being not as smart as the next fellow. 791. While those, who are used to understand most of the things most of the times, feel frustrated and diminished when confronted by what is essentially unknowable, those, who grew accustomed to life's general incomprehension, feel, on the contrary, comfortable and justified in the similar (and familiar to them) circumstances. 792. The obsession with the subconscious, intuitive, dream-like, etc., is characteristically prevalent among those, who find the process of "linear", i.e. sequential, methodical, logical and purposeful thinking too strenuous and tiresome, or simply boringly plodding. 793. When I was a small boy my favourite book was "Robinson Crusoe" - the story of a man cast away by storm upon a desolate island and left with no other choice, but either to recreate some resemblance of life out of bits and pieces of wreckage, or to parish. Now, looking back, I recognize the similar pattern in my own life. I too have been wrecked on the unknown shores more than once and, like Robinson Crusoe, had to rebuild some kind of new existence out of the salvaged remnants of the past and whatever was available in the present. The fact, that I'm still alive and, presumably, in a sound state of mind, makes me feel a proud descendent of this ingenious and resourceful sailor, who had managed to survive against all odds in the middle of nowhere. Moreover, I think we can all learn something from him. For with exception of those few who are born with a silver spoon in the mouth, the rest of us have to do with whatever fate deigned to throw in our path ( mind you, some still got more than the others) compelling us to make what we can out of it. And even if it is nothing, to make life out of nothingness. 794. After the lifetime of observing the trials and tribulations of humanity, I've come to a rather unexpected, even paradoxical yet inescapable (at least for me) conclusion, that the notion of justice, so universally admired and even worshipped, must be chiefly responsible for the man's seemingly endless misery. For when I look at the animal world, where the might is always right and the weak know well enough they have no other choice but to submit to the strong in order to survive (theirs one and only concern), I see how much more harmonious and much less violent it actually is in comparison with the man's one, where the common perception of unfairness and unquenchable thirst for justice leads to the perpetual strife, in which the strong, no matter how unfair they are, still always triumph at the end, and the weak, regardless how justified they are, never gain anything permanently, despite horrendous suffering and sacrifice such an unequal struggle inevitably entails. 795. Though most poetry is written to be enjoyed (or disgusted with) in the privacy of a reader's solitude, it, nevertheless, can benefit from, and its evocative power be enhanced by reading it aloud in public, though not necessarily by the poets themselves. For they tend to be somewhat reverential, overprotective and, lets be honest, a bit too proud of their creations, almost like certain mothers, who relish showing off their kids, as if trying to tell the world: "Look how smart and beautiful my children are, and since it's me who has produced them, I must be at least as smart and beautiful as they are". Furthermore, the audience itself (to extend the "mother-child" analogy) is treated sometimes as a collective child, when a poet reading his own poems displays somewhat excessive pleasure in declaiming each word and phrase, as if inviting the listeners to share such a delightful feast (the invitation perilously close to an ingratiation) in a manner similar to what a mother would often do, when trying to tempt the child with the new food by first putting it in her own mouth and affecting the utmost satisfied and delighted expression on her face. Of course, some poets are fully or partially aware of this phenomenon and attempt to develop some techniques of detachment. But, admittedly, it isn't easy. So, failing that, the next best thing to do is to ask somebody else, preferably one who isn't a poet and likes your poetry, to read it for you. To ask somebody, who doesn't particularly like it, is to expose your work to the danger of being grossly distorted, which certainly, unless one has the highly pronounced masochistic tendencies, has to be avoided at all cost. 796. Even the poorest of the poor have their own "elite", who tries to and succeeds in appropriating the disproportionate amount of the miserable crumbs left to this underclass. Every subgroup, no matter how low it is on the socio-economic scale, develops its own hierarchy of privilege through the universal technique of violence, intimidation, connections, deception, scheming, etc. Whenever there is something, be it money, food, shelter, positions, honours, etc., in such quantity that more people desire it than is available, these tools are automatically used by those who would make sure that they are the ones who get what everybody else want, and as much as possible of it, the rest be damned. 797. Most lives are like one-way street, where upon entering it you then have no choice but to continue driving in once taken direction for the fear of being punished for trying to turn around and change it. 798. Though heroes are universally admired and even worshipped, fortunately they aren't widely emulated and deservedly so. For they have nothing helpful to teach the rest of us - ordinary folks. The world full of heroes would simply self-destruct. Divergence of opinions, ideas and beliefs, which is a hallmark of humanity, coupled with unlimited heroic courage to defend them would cause endless strife and war of everyone against everyone. It is the cowardly ordinariness that is the salt of the earth and the glue that keeps society together in a state of more or less peaceful, though admittedly precarious, equilibrium. Most of the times, anyway. 799. AT THE MUSEUM VIEWER. I don't understand this painting, and I don't think I like it. CRITIC. You don't like it precisely because you don't understand it. But after I explain it to you, you will understand and begin to like it. VIEWER. But what if I still don't understand after you explain it to me, or even if I do understand I still don't like it? And does understanding always precede liking, or even more, are they synonymous? CRITIC. Yes, in a certain sense. VIEWER. Then, is there anything You don't like? CRITIC. Of course, there is. VIEWER. Then you have to admit that there is something you don't understand, for if you did, you would have liked it. CRITIC. But this is impossible. I must understand everything. I am a critic. 800. I have never met a man who, no matter how ill informed he was, didn't have some set of ideas and beliefs, however primitive they might have been, and who, moreover, didn't feel obligated to support them at least by some historical facts. And since men usually act up on their beliefs, especially in the mass movements - the stuff the history is made of - the responsibility of the historians, because they are, though self-appointed, yet widely recognized custodians of such facts, is truly immense. Furthermore, if it is true, that those who forget the history are bound to repeat it (and considering what the history of mankind is, who would want that) the historians, who not only omit but also distort the historical facts, must be held primarily responsible for the forgetfulness and misconceptions of the rest of us. Yet, such omissions and distortions are virtually inevitable as long as the notion of the "collective responsibility" is alive and well in mass psyche, and as long as the individual historians are bound by the ties of their respective "national identities", which constantly impair their objectivity and impartiality. Thus, until a historian sees himself as a "cosmos politicos", and until his readers see themselves as separate individuals, bearing no "collective responsibility" for the deeds of the other members of their "national group", the writing of history will always be subservient to the so-called "national interests" (the pernicious American phrase, which supposes to justify any act of a nation-state, no matter how despicable it is) when the truth becomes acceptable only and after it ceases to be perceived by the "national group' as a threat to such "interests". But while nation-state exists it is highly improbable. Also, on a personal level, considering that overwhelming majority of historians today are employed by the universities supported financially by the national governments, there is little possibility in the near future to see the change in their attitudes. 801. Coming from the Old World ,wrecked by 2000 years of political, economical, moral and religious strife, the Christian missionaries of 16-17 centuries had brought to the tribal people of the New World the spiritual cure for the socio-moral diseases these people had neither time nor conditions to develop or to succumb to yet. But, ironically, the more their "primitive" societies were getting "civilized" by the newcomers, the need for such originally unasked for and largely unnecessary remedy became more and more timely. Yet, paradoxically, just when their social conditions finally begin to make Christianity much more appropriate as the spiritual answer to their present needs, we witness among the native people the trend in the opposite direction - an attempt to revive the native spirituality. Unfortunately, as a product of the way of life which almost totally disappeared by now, this artificial revival would probably be as futile and harmful to the native people today as Christianity was to them 300 years ago. 802.Quite often the overly eager advice is the sure sign of the unwillingness to listen. 803.The more universal a question is, the more particular an answer must be. 804. There are some people (I am one of them), who go through life as if being afflicted with a disease which could be tentatively called "EXPLAIN-gitis", that is, they feel compelled, instead of reacting to the events they are faced with daily, to primarily explain them on the logical and rational grounds (to the best of their abilities, of course). Personally, I suspect that the chief cause of this peculiar compulsion lies in the deep-seated insecurity and fear of the real world, which often seems dangerously illogical and irrational to them. So, to cope with it, these people (me including), who see life not as a call for action, but as the endless chain of questions to be answered, live not by doing things but, mainly, by constantly trying to find some plausible explanations for them, thus creating in the process the bubble of words to live and to feel relatively secure in. Needless to say, the slightest prick of reality might burst every now and then this bubble quite easily. But, surprisingly, it never discourages them to rebuild it over and over again. Of course, it is only human to look for an order amidst the overwhelming complexity of life, but it is in the nature of any disease, "EXPLAIN-gitis" including, to turn the normal into its opposite by grossly exaggerating it. 805.Most of the times, you get an advice or information from others not because they want to help you, but because they seize an opportunity to brag about their successes or are in need to complain about their failures. Otherwise, each one of us has to reinvent the wheel for oneself. 806. There is no trivia which is so trivial that it doesn't contain some element of the profound. 807. Carpe cogitatio - seize the thought. The thoughts which were never said or written down are like miscarried fetuses or stillborn babies - they had died before being given any opportunity to live. 808. On Heidegger's alleged inability to finish "Being and Time" And I see a man sitting in a dark room holding an open book, which he cannot read because of darkness. But neither can the man close the book and put it aside, for he is the book and the book is him. Nor can the man leave the dark room, for he is the room and the room is him. And so, the man sits in the room he cannot leave, turning the pages of the book he cannot read. And he waits, and waits, and waits... Suddenly the lights go on, and the man begins to read the page the book is opened on at this moment, somewhere between the beginning and the end of it. And as he reads, the man tries to understand what he is reading. And sometimes he thinks he does, and sometimes he knows he doesn't. Then, without warning, the lights go off. And the man and his book are surrounded by darkness again. And again the man cannot read the book, and the book cannot be read by the man. And they cannot leave the room because they are the room, and the room is them. And all they can do is to sit in darkness, blindly turning page after page, waiting for the next moment of light. But they know not when or if it will ever come again. And I say to myself - such is the Fate of Man. 809. I am a book, in which even I can only read, every now and then, just a few, often disconnected pages. As for the others, they'll never get more out of it than some desultory sentences and words, always and inevitably taken out of context. 810. I see my mission in life (if I have any) as helping my fellow men to reconcile with theirs, rightly of wrongly perceived, shortcomings and failures. 811. The fate, or rather the curse, of a member of a minority is to always live in a state of the nervous apprehension and dreadful anticipation of an insult or an injury, constantly devising the proper strategy how to respond to it, and yet never being fully prepared to face it. 812.When I observe young people today, I am amazed (and somewhat envious too) at how free and uninhibited many of them are, in comparison with the way I and my friends were, growing up in the fifties. But when I think about the price they had to pay for this enviable freedom in multiple broken relationships and loves, in pain and disappointments, in drug and alcohol abuse, in venereal diseases, terminated pregnancies, nervous breakdowns and, finally, in the overwhelming horror of AIDS, my small envy dissolves in the vast sea of compassion. And even their vaunted openness and willingness to take chances begin to look less as that of a curious explorer or passionate adventurer, and more like the behaviour of the bored and satiated, who had tried almost everything, without finding much joy in anything, but still is looking for something new to get, hopefully, excited about. And though the fearless they may be, it is the fearlessness of the battle-hardened soldiers which comes not from the innate bravery, but from desensitization and emotional callousness, and more or less clear intimation that there are few things left which could be worse than what they had already experienced. |
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