The Future is Full of Love and Darkness

A Look at Next Semester's Reading:

I am still working on some future posts about this last semester. I particularly enjoy Gulliver's Travels so my "Gullible Me?" posts are fun (for me anyway).

I am also working my way through the next batch of books. I am pleased with this selection. Greatly pleased.

That being said, we have some good selections on Love. And none of them are what we could call happy ending books. We have young Werther and his impassioned self-destruction. We have Elizabeth Smart's wonderful and sad affair. Barthes's perfect explanation of Love and Lover's behaviours, which could hardly be considered an advertisement for falling in love. Then we have my favourite, and the one I get the pleasure of presenting, Frankenstein, where the "monster's" endless potential for love and good and beauty is buried deep in the shadow of society's distaste for any variation of 'the other', no matter how much that 'other' resembles us.

All in all, this should be a good semester. Hopefully I don't fall in love and kill myself. But should you find my 'completed suicide' body, (I'm sure you can imagine why 'success' as the opposite of 'failed' is not well accepted), please know that it was love that put me there.

The lessons we learn on love are not overly positive. There really don't seem to be happy endings to love. And I guess this is at least honest. Life does not necessarily have happy endings either. Nobody gets out alive.

So, should we all fall in love and commit suicide or wither away in despair we can at least hope that love and life share this one important aspect: the journey is the goal.

Things People Don't See Coming, or as I like to call it, Bullshit

Clearing Some Shit Off The Table:

There has been a lot of talk about this shooting. This is OK. In fact, this is a good thing. For anyone hiding under a rock the last little while, here is a quick overview of what happened: Shooting.

I take issue with a few things. I know, I know, I always take issue and I always have issues. But this is important to me. So I'm going to pour it all over my blog.

Guns. Not the problem. I'm sorry. I do not know of any other way to put that. And I'm not going to give some neutral philosophic blather on this situation and humanity and expect people to listen. I'm going to tell you how I feel.

This is solid commentary on the gun debate:

 

 

It is hard for me not to say this to the gun control argument: Come the fuck on, will you? I'm not arguing that we should not have gun control. I'm simply arguing that this is not the be-all-end-all solution to our problem. Let us spend some time on it but not all of our time.

Humanity seems to be really good at being confused over simple things. Shootings, serial killers, suicides, you name the bad situation and humanity will typically reply with some variation of "I didn't see that coming."

OK, to clarify, I'm not arguing that we should have known this guy was going to shoot these children at this school on this day at this time...I'm arguing that this guy was not alright. And something could have been done to prevent this. The exact details I'm not going to get into and I certainly do not know everything there is to know about the situation.

What I do know is that some situations can be understood when viewed honestly. Some situations are just recipes for disaster. Where is the debate on Mental Health Services? Where is the debate on understanding human beings in their environments? Oh, let us talk of guns instead...

Life is at once simple and complex. That is just how it is.

We need to change the way we look at situations, the way we look at instances of human interaction. I'm not saying let us be robots and be cold and removed and reason-only creatures. I'm saying let us use what we have come to refer to as Reason and Passion to try to understand. To understand this shooting, to understand religious fanaticism, to understand depression, to understand suicide, to understand the human condition. Our condition is not one of sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. Nor is it a condition of doom and gloom. Our condition is not some unsolvable mystery either. Our condition allows us the possibility, and importantly, the means to understand ourselves.

So why all this nonsense? Why not just look at a situation and try to understand it?

There is talk of learning of history so as not to repeat it. This is half bullshit, depending on how you interpret the word 'learning'. We can learn about and even memorize important historical facts. But what good does this do us if we do not understand it?

Take Hitler, everyone loves to hate this topic so it is an easy one. We can learn all about WW2 and say Hitler was evil, the end. Or, we could look at history, a more rounded view, and see economy, national identity, a recently lost war, a scattered collection of cities calling itself Germany finally uniting, etc., etc., etc...this does not even include the role of other countries.

Not so simple as Bad Guy acts Badly, The End, is it? With this shooting, do we look at gun control or do we look at the entire situation? I'm going to err on the side of caution and take a step back to see the complexity of the situation. And I'm certain I'll find what I always find when I take a step back: it is easy to understand, and it could have prevented at many steps along the way, and, saddest of all, it should not have happened.

In a perfect world this would not have happened. We do not live in that perfect world. But this does not give us permission to not figure shit out. Our imperfect world does not always follow perfectly crafted logic but there is some sense to it. There is a way to look at the world that would allow us to make sense of it. We have to accept that it does not always logically make sense. But in some broken-logical sense we can have understanding. This shooting has left a lot of damage and hurt behind in our imperfect world.

We have enough victims. We have too many in fact. But if we go in bull-headed and don't see the problem for what it really is, we are creating more victims. It really is that simple. But let us continue pretending it is complex and that we cannot understand how something like this happened...that approach has been working wonders up until now, right?

Why Comedy?

Lysistrata and the Not-So-Hidden-Truth:

We understand the power of Tragedy. When we think of Comedy though we often think of laughter and smiles and good times. We forget what I think is the most important aspect of comedy: the brutal truth of it all.

What I like to consider when reading a classic text like Lysistrata is the idea that the author knew what he was doing. I do not think someone like Aristophanes would write a text and not know what he is getting himself into. That isn't far fetched is it?

The Comedy can tell you what it may not be safe to say under regular circumstances. Comedy is not just sarcasm or stupidity. It is not simply something to laugh at. Comedy is the truth. Plain truth. Sometimes the truth is not even masked, thinly or otherwise.

The great comedians can make you face that part of yourself that needs to be looked at, needs to be changed in some way. They make you see it for what it is. They simply put that truth in an absurd situation and allow you the freedom to face it in someone else. The men in Aristophanes's audience may not have thought the play was brilliant but they thought enough of it not to destroy it. They laughed at the silliness. They probably did not see themselves in the silliness. But you bet your ass they were there. They were the silliness.

Tragedy and Comedy help us to live our lives better. At least to understand our lives better. Tragedy will give us very clear warnings, formulas almost. Comedy will put make-up on the pig that is us and make that pig dance on stage, convincing us we are not quite looking at ourselves. It is like Sci-Fi: just because the action takes place on another planet in some imaginary universe does not mean that action has nothing to do with us. So, with Lysistrata the silliness of the males is not farce. It is truth.

Comedy is just as important as tragedy. That is why the two masks are together. They have the same goal. They merely use different routes. The writer of the comedy typically has the harder task: making people laugh at their own faults which they may not want to admit exist.

So: Look in the mirror and laugh. Or see a comedy and laugh. Either way you aren't perfect and I'm sure you, like the rest of us, have room for improvement.

Gullible Me?

Gulliver's Travels:

Gulliver is a liar. The end.

Goethe: God's Failure or Our's?

Thoughts on Faust Part 1:

I love devils. Not just any devils though. I love devils who are badass. Mephistopheles is one of those badass devils. Which is why I love Mephistopheles. He is badass mostly because he seems to be on our side.

Good devils are on our side. I'm not arguing that God isn't on our side. However much it can seem like that at times. Good devils don't typically judge us harshly and make demands of us. Good devils don't have requirements for our companionship. Good devils aren't entirely on our side but they get us.

God doesn't seem to get us.

The devils are always humanists. They could be our first humanists. They could be the beings who see us for what we are, not the mistakes we make. It is no small comfort to be accepted. It is no small comfort to have someone to turn to when we're facing eternal damnation.

God is responsible for letting us in or locking us out. God rewards us or punishes us. God created us. And it may have been his mistake. We may be his mistake. We certainly feel that way sometimes.

It is remarkably easy to blame God too. Whenever we screw up...God set us up. Whenever anything bad happens we have someone to blame. God is our easy out. How perfect is this? We don't need God for anything. In fact, we often reason that he needs us! But, wait a minute, we need him for that easy out. So whatever our feelings are they are wrong.

But, what if all along we've been wrong? What if we just haven't been seeing God's side? What if God sees the real us? Gets the real us? Gets what we aren't seeing properly?

God should be able to see the bigger picture, it is his picture after all. What if God sees us as we are: flawed yet capable with so much potential? What if God actually sees us how we think Prometheus saw us?

The God from the Prologue of Faust seems to be this kind of God. He knows us, has faith in us, allows us the freedom to fall on our own, knowing what we sometimes can't accept or can't see: that we are capable of getting back up ourselves.  

The Other Nature of Things, Not That One

Lucretius Speaks and Nobody Listened:

I love The Nature of Things. With David Suzuki. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. Lucretius swoops down on us with nice poetry. He manages to address atomic theory, Evolutionary theory, love, and basically the nature of almost everything. I love this book, or poem, or whatever. I love the way he says things. If I were to put down all my favourite lines and explain why they were my favourite this would turn into a rather large post. Instead, I will pick a few and share them. 

“All things decompose back to the elemental particles from which they rose” (10). I like this line because I have always said that when I die I want to be left naked somewhere in the wilderness where I can decompose back to the earth. I know it would stink and I know my naked and rotting corpse is nothing pretty, but this is my wish. I wish this because I feel like that is where we belong.

“See how nature refashions one thing from another, and won’t allow a birth unless it’s midwived by another’s death” (11). I like this and I don’t know why. I think it is because it speaks to a balance in the universe. We can read this the wrong way and check statistics and exact times of births and deaths, or we could accept it and take ourselves out of the situation. When I say ‘ourselves’ I really mean our egos. And when I say ‘out of the situation’ I mean properly assess our place in the situation. We think we’re the only ones this applies to. The situation is much larger than us. We are mere humans. The universe balances itself out, whether we like it or not.

“The truth is, there are other fish in the sea. The truth is, too, we’ve lived without her up to now” (142). The reason this is great is because so many people ‘in love’ say really stupid things. They act like the end of the world is nigh when love could be unrequited. The fact of the matter is that it isn’t. There is no better way to say this than Lucretius says it. And the next time you’re in love and want to say really dumb things feel free to tell yourself this, to comfort yourself, to self-soothe, to wake yourself up.

The things Lucretius says feel right to me. A couple thousand years ago some guy said some cool stuff, it seems to be accurate, how come we haven’t really listened?

Psychotherapeutic Psychobabble and Phedre's Self-Desruction

Lessons on Trauma, Feelings, Denial and Suppression from Ted Hughes's Phedre

Phedre is crazy. She is the epitome of denial. She tries so hard to hide her love she destroys herself. This would be tragic if she didn’t destroy everything she came into contact with in the process. That makes this a piss-off instead of a tragedy. She isn’t the only one in denial.

Theramene calls out Hippolytus at the beginning of the play : “In your eye there’s a new kind of fire – secretive, heavy, like an ailment. You try to hide it. But it is killing you. There is no hiding it. You are in love.” (9) Being in love should be a good thing. But it never seems to be. This particular kind is going to kill Hippolytus. But is it the love that will do him in or is it what he does with that love? Suppressing your feelings is never a good idea. Phedre shows us an exceptional example of this.

“Where am I? What am I saying? Where did those words come from? My mind is strange” (11). This is Phedre displaying what we currently refer to as dissociative symptoms. Dissociation is a natural phenomenon, it is a survival technique meant to be used in degrees. Sometimes our dissociative abilities work against us though. Anytime you find yourself asking this quote it is probably best you get help. This used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. Now it is Dissociative Identity Disorder. A fragmented self is never healthy.

“I can’t hide it – everybody stares into my shame and its secret” (11), this is what guilt does to a person. Phedre is so overwrought with guilt she thinks everyone can see her shameful deed. This is like Lady Macbeth’s hands, or the heartbeats through the floorboards in an Edgar Allan Poe story. Phedre, wake up!, you’re doing this to yourself.

Oenone, who I do not think too highly of, states one of the best pieces of advice anyone can offer someone who is not expressing their emotions; She says to Phedre that “If you have to weep – then weep for the way you are stifling what you suffer which makes it all the more violent” (11). Phedre really should just let all this out. It is not doing her any good to keep it locked up. It is also not staying locked up very well either. Anyone who has worked with, been around, or experienced PTSD will understand how true this is. Our adaptations, our 'solutions' to the trauma, typically make the trauma more violent and harder to move through.

In seven words Phedre describes a lot of what we see in trauma. She describes our survival strategies gone awry. She describes the self-betrayal involved in trauma survivors. She does all of this when she says “I turned against myself – to defend myself” (17). It is as simple as that. Our basic drive to stay alive makes us our own enemy in an attempt to protect us. This is a natural occurrence. This is nothing to be ashamed of. But Phedre shows us that knowledge and awareness are not enough to get better. This is an opportunity to confess and suffer the real consequences, as opposed to imagined ones. But she doesn’t do that. Otherwise the play might be over and it might suck.

A lot of emos, drama queens, and trauma survivors often think that life is too much. In some circumstances, who can blame them? But what leads up to the conclusion that life is not worth living anymore? That’s what I look at. Anytime someone says something similar to Phedre saying “Let me die. My one escape from all this is annihilation. Is it so dreadful to be nothing? Despair can find death friendly” (48) I am instantly suspicious. I wonder what kind of hell this person has made for themself that they think this. The normal human brain is survival based. Some people reach this conclusion with really bad reasoning. A lot of times people are too afraid to turn around and face their emotions or feelings. They are so used to running that they have made themselves terrified of feeling their feelings. So they decide it is better to die. Well, I’m sorry, we don’t have time for therapy sessions but I do know that I have not seen people die from feeling their feelings. They actually die from trying to avoid those feelings. What’s the worst that can happen? We feel sad. Immensely sad. And then eventually we don’t anymore. It doesn’t just happen once. It can happen many times. But guess what? You don’t die from it. Does Phedre do the right thing though? Does she make it easier on herself and others? Of course not.

Oenone says some fantastically poetic bullshit, among them is this jewel: “I too have to smother a conscience. I would rather confront death a thousand times, then perform this” (49). I’m going to go ahead and call her out on this. Why not just die then? Oh, because you’re full of shit. When you’re making these decisions your conscience is already dirtied and used to dirty acts. I’m sure your conscience adapted slightly to being an asshole Oenone. But I do love this line. How often do we smother our consciences knowingly? I bet it is more often than we would like to confess, I mean admit, I mean share.

Theseus says what most people wish after a traumatic event, he says “If only the results of her evil could die with her” (88). The best thing about this line is that it is one of the most painfully true observations of a negative event ever. Ignoring the fact that Theseus was a moron who blamed Phedre even though it was Theseus’s prayer the Gods answered, let us imagine this play is entirely about Phedre’s evil. All the bad things that happen in the play come from Phedre somehow. When she dies she dies. That is all. Everyone alive has to live on in the aftermath. All the suffering from concentration camps didn’t magically stop when Hitler died. But that sure would have been nice. So when a traumatic event is over this can be the beginning for the survivors. When the Twin Towers finished falling did the trauma end? Or did the beginning stage end?

I’m not arguing that Phedre run off with Hippolytus. The least she could do is openly admit her feelings. I’m certain she would have had better consequences than what she ended up with. And who knows, maybe other people would not have been hurt in the process. But hey, it is nothing but psychobabble nonsense, we should just keep doing what Phedre was doing…what’s the worst that could happen?

Oh, and also, I do think this is a tragedy, for the record. However Phedre was behaving she was doing what she learned to do in life. Who can fault her for that?

Comic Interlude (Original Compostion)

Why Not Post A Second Draft Of A Poem About Christ For My Class Blog?

Anybody ever read Robert Service poetry? This is my retelling of a key moment in biblical reading. Some things sound better when they aren't so out of date. Also, who doesn't like silly rhymes? All Reason aside, they are good for one's soul.

Jesus of Galilee

by: Byron Bidiuk

 

When I think back to this guy I knew

Who hailed from Galilee

I remember a sight that inspired fright

In all those who did see.

What happened that day will forever stay

In the minds and hearts of man    

And will remain there in curse and prayer

As the day Salvation began.

He went to have dinner with all his good sinners

Before heading up mount Olive.

And at this great table he was finally able

To tell of the gift he would give.

He feasted merrily and told them all verily

To eat of his body the bread,

Then as remission for their sinful condition

Drink of the blood he would shed.

It was out in the wild where this old man’s child

Hid himself from the law

And he spoke to those in their dirty clothes

Of all that he foresaw.

He went to the ground and with no sound

He asked his heavenly father

If he was sure what he must endure.

He was told he’d best not bother.

The he accepted his life so full of strife

That no human could possibly bear

And without remorse he followed his course

Atoning for Eve’s affair.

He saw his vision and made his decision

To leave it up to fate,

For he had his path which was full of wrath

And no room to speculate.

With what was foretold out there in the cold

You’d think they’d all be weeping

But Judas conspired and Peter felt tired

And Jesus found him sleeping.

He prayed once more, found Peter as before

And prayed prayer number three.

Each prayer was the same as Judas did claim

His 30 piece-silver fee.

Then they came for him and with great whim

Beat him through and through.

Then he almost died and his mother cried

From that horribly vivid view.

And also his whore who with him he bore

Through most of his adventures,

And his 12 or so friends were making amends

Throughout his last endeavor.

Food and stones muffled his moans

As they struck him from every direction,

He did what he should, which was all that he could,

Without his father’s protection.

Mocked and hated he was badly situated

Among those whom he should rule

But he was beaten again without refrain

And made to look a fool.

He carried his wood and in all likelihood

His love still overflowed.

Though bloody and battered his soul was not shattered

Yet people still mocked at his load.

Then, just like meat, by his hands and his feet,

They strung him up high in the air.

Some still lampooned in spite of his wounds

And others could only stare.

Then he surely seemed mad, he screamed at his dad:

“Why hast thou forsaken me?”

If you doubt that’s insane then let me explain:

He was his own father you see.

Now when I think back to that guy I knew

Who hailed from Galilee

I remember a sight that inspired fright

In all those who did see.

What happened that day will forever stay

In the minds and hearts of lambs

And will remain there in curse and prayer

As the shammest of the shams.