What is love? Is it an emotion? A word? Is it meaningless? How does one fall in love? Can one fall in love? How do you tell when you are in love? Does love just happen? Can you learn to love?
These are questions that tend to plague me, and I'm sure, other people as well.
But how do you answer them? Writing this, I don't know if I'll answer any, I don't even know how I'll go about attempting such a feat. This is just going to be me going on about whatever thoughts come into my mind on the topic.
So.. what is love...
Well there are a few different views on it. Some see it as an emotion, others as some kind of supernatural connection. Some people will say it's something special that you can only share with one special soul-mate, others something you can have with multiple people, either through the course of your life, or all at once. I don't really know if I would qualify it as an emotion or not.. well let me make that clearer : I don't know if I would qualify it as it's own distinct emotion, rather than as just a form of another emotion. I'm sure at some point in your life, you've heard someone say "I like them, but I don't love them", but are the two really so different? If asked, anyone would say that they liked someone they loved, but not the other way round. Does this point to love being something entirely different, or is it just the same emotion as "liking", but brought to an extreme? Just as hatred is really just a very intense dislike, is love not just a very intense liking? This puts me off the idea of any kind of metaphysical/supernatural/whatever connection (well besides the fact that that would require belief in some supernatural source of love, which is just absurd on it's own).
It's definitely been overhyped by society.. the whole magic of love thing... that just doesn't fly with me. As far as I'm concerned, love is just really liking and caring for someone, but then, how might I go about reconciling the rightness of monogamy constantly shoved down my throat by society with the fact that there are multiple people in my life that I would say I like very much and care about? Well there are a few ways to do that. I could first decide that there are two kinds of love, but then I'd be faced with a new problem, what the hell is the difference, how do I draw the line, how do I tell the difference, and what the hell are these two kinds? That seems too complicated. Love is not a rational thing, of that I'm certain, so trying to rationalize it is a waste of time.
The other way I could reconcile the two is to reject the notion that monogamy is right. This has some interesting consequences though. Society makes it essentially impossible to live anything but a monogamous life. Aside from having monogamy shoved down my throat at all times, society is built around the idea of the monogamous heterosexual relationship. It's only just now starting to accept and evolve to include homosexual monogamous relationships, but any other type of relationship isn't even considered. Any kind of official form that asks marital status has all kinds of options for just about everything - so long as it's monogamous. It doesn't consider anything else. The legal troubles aside, what are the odds that I could even find more than one person who I would consider myself as loving, and who would furthermore share my view on polyamourous relations? I'd just as likely live my life a celibate. I don't want that.
So now I've got a problem, society says I can only choose one person to love.. only one person that I can officially spend my life with and one person I can publically display any physical affection for without getting weird looks. How in the hell am I supposed to do that? I've already completely rejected the idea that there could only be one person that I could share this relationship with; hell I'm only 19 and I know already that there's no way in hell I'll only ever meet one person that I could share that with. I'm in quite the pickle which I unfortunately can't get out of. Thank you society for trying to mould me to your expecations. It would be greatly appreciated if you would kindly fuck off. Bleck.
So now I'm at the questions regarding falling in love...
How do you fall in love? Hell if I know. Your brain shoots out some chemicals that make you feel certain things and poof you're in love with someone. More often than not, that's just a quick infatuation that won't last very long. Probably more to do with your instincts telling you to reproduce with the individual in question than anything else. Just look at the divorce rate, it's somewhere around 50% in North America is it not? I wonder how many of those marriages came about after less than a year together...
Can one fall in love? Well I guess that depends on what view of love you take.. but I'd say yeah, pretty obviously. People do it all the time, but I think it's hardly eternal. I think love comes and goes. I think when you find someone that you'd want to share your life with, it's not because you're going to love them for all your life, but rather than you'll always be able to pull through the moments where you maybe don't love each other so much, and work through it, and, for lack of a better word, recover from your lapse.
In my opinion, a relationship in which you never fight argue or disagree about anything is a relationship in which you're either trying way to hard for it to be any good, or is just plain out boring. I would much rather argue and fight on occasion, then get through it. Conflict strengthens. Physical conflict strengthens your body in a literal way, while emotional conflict strengthens a relationship (as long as you can get through it). You get to know the person that much better, because as I see it, an angry person is an honest person, and you also get to see what the other person really cares about.
I've been through this in my own life, with my closest friend. We've fought and argued countless times, gone months at a time not speaking or really acknowledging each others' existence, and we pulled through all of those times, and reached a better understanding of each other, to the point where I can now be confident that any time we argue, we'll always be able to work through it, and get back to our normal relations soon enough.
But what about those brief moments of passion that happen upon you when you least expect it, and that fade away just as quickly? What should one do in those situations? Should you embrace them, and take in every fleeting moment of passionate, unbridled love (regardless of what kind of love that may be) that you can, or rather be wary of those that take you by surprise, maybe even cultivate them to see if it grows into something more mature, or dies and fades away? I don't know that there's a definite answer to this. I don't think any one answer can be said to adequately apply to any situation that would arise.. there are just way too many variables to consider. It's probably best to deal with these on a case by case basis, but then can I really take the time to analyze every situation? Should I analyze every situation? Love, like all emotions really, is not a rational thing. To try and rationalize it is, well, irrational. But then is just going with my gut all the time really a good way to go about it? I don't think so. My gut, unfortunately, oftentimes likely doesn't give a rat's ass about much else besides basic biological necessities, and I can't really live by that now can I? I won't allow myself to succumb to a pathological following of all my base desires. As with most things, the seemingly best path is a middle ground - a balance. Everything in nature tends toward equilibrium, so while it most certainly is not easy (it sure as hell hasn't been), I think the best thing to do is try to seek a balance between the emotional and rational.
Can you learn to love... that's a difficult question. On the one hand, people have often had little choice but to do so; arranged marriages leave little choice for the spouses to be. But can you really call that love? I don't know. I guess it depends. If put in an arranged marriage, sometimes you'll get someone that you just can't stand, and maybe you'll force yourself to live with it, just get used to it and accept it as your lot in life because that's what society expects of you, or maybe you'll find some way out. Either way you certainly haven't learned to love the person. On the other hand, you might get someone that you're very compatible with, and live happily together, but then have you learned to love them, or rather fallen in love with them? Is there even a difference? I'm leaning toward the idea that the kind of relationship where you're happy with someone for a long time is a mix of both. At first, you fall in love with them, get infatuated I suppose, there's that immediate attraction, that spark that draws you to them. But eventually that wears off, maybe you get to learn some things you didn't know before that you don't like so much, at this point you either leave or stay. If you do stay, there's something more than that initial bit of falling in love that keeps you there. I imagine it's at this point that you learn to get along with the person, faults and all, where you learn to accept, and hey, maybe even love all their little quirks. You stay with them not because you don't have a choice, or (hopefully) not because you've fooled yourself into thinking you love them, but because you actually do, all the darker bits included.
I don't know if I've really answered any of the questions, or if any of this amounted to anything really.. I don't even know why I wrote it all out, but I did, and it seems a waste not to post it now, so here it is.
1. I know the title sucks, but I couldn't think of anything else, and this was written at 1AM while trying to sleep, so I thought it appropriate.
2. I don't necessarily fully support this, I haven't put much critical thought into it, this is just what my brain came up with at 1AM and I kinda like it.
3. For those of you who notice - yes I have been reading Nietzsche recently.
4. Sorry for the lack of paragraphing... my brain decided not to think in a structured manner when I wrote this..
So here goes....
There is nothing I despise more than those who are utterly and absolutely convinced of something, yet refuse to discuss the topic with anyone who is not of like mind. What - are they afraid their convictions will crumble under scrutiny? Is their conviction so necessary - their life so desperately hinged on it - that they must abandon all intellectuality to live? A plague! A disgrace to human potential! - but they are no longer humans. They have abandoned their humanity. They are puppets - toys being danced on a stage, while the puppeteer - the very conviction they cling to - rules their lives. The puppeteer is dead - we true humans, who question every conviction - have killed it. Still, those non-humans - those wasted shells - they cling to their master, they are unawares of it's death. As they tug on their strings - trying desperately to shake some truth from their master - the dead one, the lifeless body - resists. It is at rest - it wishes to remain at rest - and for every tug at it's strings - it tugs back. The non-humans mistake this for a sign that their master is still alive and well. Fools. So blinded by "highest absolutes" - they cannot see that it is they themselves that cause the tugging they feel - they have duped themselves into believing that there is something beyond themselves that motivates their actions. Cowards! - to ascribe one's action to an exterior motivation is to deny responsibility! Do they so fear the consequences of their own actions that they would pass responsibility to another? What meaning is there to a regretted action? - One who wishes for a thing to have been different denies all possible value of the thing! The only value a thing can have is that which you give it - what more positive value than to wish for that thing to reoccur eternally! - what more negative value than to wish it had never happened! That is what they are - those non-humans - devaluers of life, denyers of life. Among those there are two types : those who affirm a will to death, and those who do not. The first is a weed - sucking the nutrients from those around them to sustain their own life - the very life they deny - so that they may spend as long as possible contemplating their own extinction and what lies waiting for them beyond death. They, like the weed, must be eradicated - that the life around them be allowed to flourish and grow - but likethe weed, they are numerous, and every one spends its life spreading its plague so that there are always more that need eradicating. The second type is less taxing, but at least equally foolish - it is the nihilist. If they do not embrace death, then they either fear it or deny it. In either case, they already deny life, and will death's non-existence - thus they are nihilist, for what is there beyond life and death? Everything we do - all our discoveries and all our sciences - serve one of two purpose : to enhance life, or to ease death. There is nothing else - only life and death. We true humans must strive to affirm life to its fullest - to give the highest value possible - so that death will have value as a legacy - the legacy of one who has forever said yes! to life.
Allow me to begin by saying : I think morality is essentially an abstraction/bastardization (depending on the source of what were adaptive traits that early humans evolved. As an example, take the quasi-universal moral that killing is wrong :
How would this start? Well, humans are obviously social creatures, and early humans would have lived together in small bands or tribes, and relied on each other for survival. Now, losing any member of the tribe would be a detriment to the tribe as a whole, and lower it's (and all the individuals themselves') chances of survival. Killing obviously gets rid of a tribe member, so it's certain that we'd evolve some means minimizing killing each other : so here we evolve this aversion to killing others of our tribe, as well as a strong aversion to those who kill members of the tribe. Natural selection takes care of the rest by having the killers exiled or killed themselves.
You'll notice from this, though, that this aversion applies only to members of one's own tribe, which makes sense as killing off other tribes removes competition, which is obviously good for you. So how did the modern day moral that all killing is wrong evolve from this humble beginning? With the evolution of society. As time went on, the tribes grew larger, and with the advent of agriculture, were able to settle in one place, and grow into towns, villages, cities, and eventually countries; so as the groups grow larger, so too does the extent to which killing is considered wrong. Notice also that at this time, killing people from rival cities/countries (depending on political organization) wouldn't be considered wrong, as evidenced by the profuse amount of bloody wars throughout human history.
Fast forward to modern times, and through globalization, and increasing international interdependence, we've reached a point where we can practically consider the entire human population as a single distinct group, and likewise, the idea that killing is wrong applies to everyone. Now, there still is war and killing, because ultimately, there's no way to get all 6 billion of us to agree that we're all one big happy species, there will always be rivals, there will always be competition, and that will often lead to bloodshed. It's still quite obvious though, that universal agreement on someone being competition to be eliminated is nearly impossible; just look at all the anti-war protests.
Unfortunately, somewhere throughout this process some people got the idea to attribute morals to a God of some kind, and make them absolutes : that's what I call bastardization, but I'm not going to get into that here.
Another unfortunate thing that has happened to this, is that our wonderful ability to think of things in abstract terms, and to transfer ideas from one place to another has led to these morals being applied in places they were never meant to be. I'll take the example of killing again, and, as I'm sure you've likely guessed from the title, its application to animals.
We know where the idea that killing is wrong came from, but what people often fail to realize, is that this initial idea was very specific. It was an idea that applied only to those other humans who aided your survival. You may be wondering why only humans and why not animals? Well that's simple, members of your tribe are only any good to you alive, because if they're dead, they can't hunt, take care of children, or do anything. Animals, aside from those we domesticated for purposes that don't include food (like dogs), are good for us in two possible ways :
1. Producing useful things, like wool, milk, or more of themselves.
2. Food. Which means they have to be dead, because it would be pretty hard to cook or eat a live animal.
In case 1, we have a reason not to kill the animal, but as the population of that animal that we control grows, we have to keep control of it, and so some of them get transferred over to purpose 2, in which we have a very good reason to kill the animal.
Now for those of you who may be reading this, and thinking, gee, this guy's a complete asshole, he's saying it's totally ok to randomly kill animals!
That is not at all what I'm saying. The point I'm trying to get across, is that when people, be they vegetarian, vegan, or just general animal lovers, say that killing animals is always wrong, they are wrong.
Another argument I've heard, which come from vegetarian friends of mine, is that we no longer need to eat meat, and as such, we should not kill animals for food.
I agree completely with the premise here, we absolutely do not require meat in our diet anymore, there are easily available replacements to allow us to get all the nutrients we need to survive - without eating meat. My problem here, is that the conclusion is complete bullshit. The correct conclusion here, would be that we could not kill animals for food, that we have that option, but to go so far as to say we should not, is absolutely unfounded, and has no logic behind it whatsoever. This would imply that all proud omnivores (myself included) are immoral, which is pretty damn condescending. -Another quasi-universal moral : Do no judge others lest ye be judged yourself.
To conclude, I would like to say that to anyone who reads this and has made the choice not to eat meat for any of the reasons I've discussed, I respect your choice, and this is not intended to try and convert you in any way, so long as you do not judge me because you think I'm an immoral bastard because I eat animals, I won't judge you because you think it's immoral to eat animals. If I've offended you, I do apologize, but in all sincerity - too bad. I stand by my statements here 100%, but if you wish argue any of my points, feel free to do so.
I find it rather amusing that people feel the need to thank others for everything.
In some cases, there's no problem, it's perfectly understandbale, you're just stating gratitude for something.
There are, however, certain situations, in which I truly want to confront people and ask them what in the hell they are thanking me for.
The first example that comes to mind, and the one I'm subject to most often, occurs in the residence building at my University, where I currently live.
First, a little about the building, when you first come in the main entrance, you're in a sort of mini-atrium, and there are stairs that lead up to a second set of doors, which are always locked.
Now, what I find interesting, and surprisingly amusing, is when people feel the need to thank me for opening the door. Note here that I don't mean opening the door, and holding it for them, or letting them go through ahead of me. I don't at all mean when the person in question is going in the same direction as me. What I mean, is when I am leaving the building, which requires me to go through these doors, towards the exit, and others who are making their way in thank me for opening the door.
Now why do I find this amusing?
First of all, what is the purpose of thanking? Simply put, you thank someone as a way of letting them know you are grateful for whatever it is you're thanking them for. As for the reasons to let people know to begin with, I won't even begin to try and figure out, as it has nothing to do with my point.
So now that we know what purpose thanking serves, it's pretty easy to figure out that they are thanking me for opening the door, and are grateful for me opening the door.
Next, let's see why someone might be grateful for something.
As I see it, gratitude generally implies that someone has done something that helps you, or done something for you without expecting any sort of reward. Essentially, gratitude generally follows some act of kindness or altruism.
So now, let's have a look at the situation, and see if there's reason to be grateful.
Here is what is happening : I am trying to get from inside the building, to outside, which requires me to open these locked doors at one point, as they stand between me and my intended destination. At the same time, some other person has the opposite itinerary, but still needs to go through the door. The only difference here, is that I, coming from the inside, don't need to unlock the door, while the person outside does.
So, it could be thought that the person is grateful for my relieving them of the requirement of unlocking the door.
But is this really a valid reason, given the above reasons for gratitude to exist?
I think not. Though I have done something that helps the person, I did not do it to help the person. The latter implies that the purpose for my opening the door was to relieve the person of having to unlock it. This is false; the purpose for my opening the door was so that I could get outside, as opening the door was a requirement for my doing so. Did I do something without expecting reward? Yes. But again, I did not do it for the person. So was there some act of altruism of kindness? No. There was mere coincidence that the time at which I reached, and had to open the door in order to reach my intended destination matched the time at which the person reached, and would have had to unlock and open the door in order to reach his/her destination.
So it's pretty obvious there is no reason to be grateful to me, and therefore no reason to be thanking me. But that is not to say there is nothing to be grateful for or nothing to thank. If you believe in some higher force controlling the motions of bodies, whether it be God, luck, or determinism, you could perfectly well be grateful and therefore thank whichever cause for the above mentioned times to coincide, be it Divine predestination, chance, or The First Cause (whatever that may be).
So truly, I find it amusing when people give thanks for nothing. It makes me smile and chuckly a little inside. I guess I should be thanking them for that.
It’s quite simple really, it is, by virtue of an inherent quality of
the concept of a “god”, impossible to find any conclusive proof, or
even evidence, for or against, the existence of such a being. What does
all this mean?
First and foremost, this inherent quality of the concept of a “god”. It
is important to note here, that I do not speak of God, as in the
Judeo-Christian God, but of the general concept of a god, as is
central, and can be found in nearly, if not all, religions. This
inherent quality is quite simply the supernatural quality of a god,
which is a necessary quality for it to be a god. Were it not
supernatural, I would not call it “god”.
Now, let me examine this word, supernatural. It is composed of two main
parts: the prefix super, meaning greater, above, or beyond, and the
word natural, meaning of or pertaining to nature. Combining these, I
understand that something supernatural is something that is greater
than, above, or beyond nature.
But what of nature, what is this “nature”? Nature is all that can be
observed and/or measured within our universe. Something natural is
something observable and/or measurable. This is important when defining
proof and evidence. Note that I must here presuppose that our universe
does in fact exist, and is absolutely real, and reject, for the sake of
argument, the possibility of any solipsistic or other reality/existence
doubting/denying philosophical views.
Secondly, there is the matter of proof, which by reason of the
aforementioned, is impossible to find in respect to the existence, or
non-existence, of a god. But what consists of proof? Something can be
considered proven, and therefore true and factual, when an explanation
has been given which adequately explains, along with anomalies, and can
make accurate predictions, on some phenomena. Proof must also be
supported by evidence.
Evidence, in order to be accepted, must in most, of not all cases, be
empirical. It must also be testable, and verifiable, and therefore be
able to produce similar results when tested by various people. It is
important to notice here that the only things which could possibly fit
this description must be able to be described as natural.
I can therefore conclude, that by the definition herein set forth, that
for anything to be considered as evidence, it must foremost be natural
(i.e. observable and/or measurable). Furthermore, I can conclude that
since proof relies on evidence, by extension, proof must also foremost
be natural. Since a god is inherently supernatural (i.e. greater than,
above, or beyond nature), it is therefore also greater than, above, or
beyond proof and evidence, and as such, can never be proven or
disproven.
Should evidence or proof be found relating to a god, it would
immediately cease to be a god, as proof must be observable and/or
measurable. Those qualities which, in order for the proof to apply,
must extend to the “god”, will therefore make the “god” natural; an
occurrence of nature. A thing, however, cannot be both natural and
supernatural. Such a statement is a logical contradiction.
Since it is a necessary requirement of proof that it be of natural
origin; and since it is also a necessary requirement for this proof to
apply to said “god”, that the proof’s qualities, that is, its natural
origin, extend to the “god”. This makes the natural quality of the
“god” necessary for the proof to be valid, and the only way to
reconcile this with the aforementioned logical contradiction, is to
remove the supernatural quality. In so doing, I remove and inherent and
necessary quality of a god, and so it ceases to be a “god”.
In summary, I have chosen the agnostic view because, though I do not believe in any form of god, I cannot deny the possibility
of one’s existence. This is because, for the reasons described above,
there can be no proof or evidence, for or against, the existence of
some god, and without proof or evidence, no possibility can be denied.
“So, you’re a black Mexican queer...interesting...”
-I’m sorry, but I find that very offensive.
This, I fear, is something we as a society will be hearing far too
often in the near future. Political correctness, such a waste of
effort. Society would be much better off if the energy expended on
trying to find politically correct terms was instead directed at
improving society. Why do people find these things so damned offensive
anyway? It’s just a word; it doesn’t want to hurt you...
It’s pretty much guaranteed in modern society that if you call someone
black, queer or Mexican, somebody will get offended. Instead, you’re
expected to call them African-american, homosexual, or Hispanic. From
17 letters, 5 syllables and 3 words, to 33 letters, 15 syllables and 4
words. Why? Why should I be so afraid of offending? Unless my intent is
to offend, in which case I clearly am not afraid of offending, why
should I be afraid? Here’s a better question: why are people so easily
offended?
To answer this question, let’s take the word black as an example.
First, let’s look at what’s going on with the language when I call
someone black.
Step 1: I see someone with dark skin, which is best and most accurately described, relative to other skin colors, as black.
Step 2: I state that said person is black.
Now what exactly is happening with the words? Take the simple sentence:
“He is black.” We’ve got a subject, “He”; nothing offensive here
(assuming He is in fact male); we’ve got a verb, “is”; still nothing
offensive; and we’ve got a descriptive adverb, “black”, the magic word.
Somehow, “black” becomes offensive. But all I’m doing when I say that
is seeing someone, and describing that someone as I see them, and with
simple, accurate (enough) words. I have no intent to offend, yet
somehow “black” is given an offensive meaning. How does this happen?
In language, there are two stages of meaning. First, there is the
meaning given by the speaker, which is comprised of the meaning of the
words themselves, as well as the meaning given them by the intent of
the speaker in saying them. Second, there is the meaning received by
the recipient, which is comprised of the meaning of the words
themselves, and the meaning given them by the recipient’s
interpretation. This interpretation is comprised of the recipient’s
perceived meaning of thee words and of his perceived meaning of the
speaker’s intent. It is therefore possible for the meaning of the same
words to be drastically different for the speaker and the recipient.
Now, where exactly does the offensive meaning come from? In other
words, who is responsible for making words offensive? It clearly does
not come from the words themselves, as words alone are nothing; they
are completely neutral. The only meaning they have in and of themselves
is in representing things in the world. It cannot come from the intent
of the speaker, because, as previously stated, there was no intent to
offend.
The only source of meaning remaining is the recipient’s interpretation.
Now we’ve got two possible culprits, either the recipient’s perceived
meaning of the words or of the intent. It’s easily plausible that some
recipient could perceive a word’s meaning as offensive (even though it
isn’t). It is equally plausible that some recipient could perceive the
speaker’s intent as offending.
Well now, interesting twist, the one going around and making words
offensive is the one being offended. And they expect me to apologize
for offending them? Bullshit. They offended themselves. They expect me
to go out of my way and make a conscious effort to use terms they don’t
make offensive? Bullshit. They should go out of their way and make a
conscious effort to stop misperceiving what I say and mean.
People apologize too much anyway. One should only be expected to
apologize to acknowledge when they are to blame for some wrong. Unless
my intent in saying or doing something is to offend or otherwise harm
in any way, I can hardly be blamed for any wrongdoing.
If I were to accidentally step on someone’s foot, it’s purely
coincidence. I would be equally to blame for happening to put my foot
down unknowingly where their foot was located, as they would be for
unknowingly having their foot located where mine would go down. Should
we both apologize to each other? Here’s a proposition: suck it up.
Realize it was accidental, and that you’re both equally to blame (if
you MUST blame someone), and don’t waste your breath apologizing for
something completely out of your control. When you die and go to
heaven, should your parents apologize for causing you grief when they
died?
I sincerely hope you were offended by this. If not, then I’m sorry for more than offending you.
Slowly his eyes opened. He was strapped in a white chair, a small halo
of white light illuminating him, the chair, and a man in a stark white
suit standing beside him. He couldn’t perceive any other features, and
everything else was pitch-black darkness. He spoke.
Where am I?
- You are here.
But where is here?
- Here is everywhere. Here is anywhere.
Is this a dream?
- What do you think?
I don’t know, it all seems… so real…
- Then surely it must be real.
I don’t know… I’ve woken up from dreams that seem real before; I couldn’t tell the difference until I woke up.
- What difference?
The difference between what was real and what was just a dream.
- But what difference is there?
A dream is a dream, it’s not real; it’s all in your head.
- But how, then, do you know what is real?
What? You’re real, I’m real. This chair I’m sitting in, the light shining on me, all this is real.
- I thought this was just a dream.
Wha…? I don’t know, I already said I can’t always tell the difference until I wake up.
- Then how can you ever know what is and isn’t real?
Then how do I know you’re real? How do I know any of this is real? How
do I know this isn’t just my unconscious trying to talk to me?
- Exactly.
Everything suddenly disappeared. All concept of time and space was
gone, there was only nothingness; then, just as suddenly, it all came
back.
Wait, whoa, what was that?
- You’ve learned the first lesson, and you’ve passed the first step.
What? What do you mean? Am I still dreaming?
- You know the answer.
…I don’t know… I don’t know…
- Good. Now then, is this real?
But, didn’t I just answer that? I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.
- Very good, you’ve learned that you can’t tell the difference between
real and not real; but can you tell me what real is? Can you define
real, without contrasting it to not real?
Well, I guess everything I see here is real, and I’m sure there’s a door somewhere…
- Stop! Do you see a door?
No… but we had to get here somehow, so there has to be a door.
- But do you know there is a door?
Well, no, but…
- Aha! You have a concept of a door, that concept in your mind is very real, but how do you know there is a door?
I don’t know… I can’t know can I?
- You’ve almost got it. Why can’t you?
I can think it’s there, but unless I can see or touch it, I can’t know.
- Exactly. If you can’t perceive something, how can you know if it is real? We use our senses to perceive the world around us…
And it is that perception that makes something real!
- Excellent! Now tell me, if I turn around, are you real?
Of course I am! How can I not be? You’re talking to me!
- Am I? Couldn’t I just be talking to myself?
But you can hear me. And besides, you’ve already seen me and it’s not like I can go anywhere, I’m strapped down to this chair.
- And while you’re not speaking? Yes the concept of your existence,
your reality, strapped to that chair, in my mind is real; but I can’t
touch you, I can’t see you, I can’t hear, smell or taste you, how can I
know you’re real?
I suppose you can’t…
- Exactly.
Nothing. Then everything again.
Is that gonna happen every time I “learn a lesson” or “pass a step”?
- I don’t know.
How can you not know!? Hey, who are you anyway?
- I am the Teacher.
So how can you not know, haven’t they told you what’s supposed to happen?
- How can I know anything beyond what I perceive? And of what “they” do you speak?
What are you anyway?
- I am the Teacher.
I know that, but who do you work for? Secret Service? Criminal Mafia? C’mon, who’s the boss around here?
- I honestly do not know of what you speak. All I know is that I am here, I am the Teacher, and you are my Student.
Right… So, do you have any answers at all?
- I have many answers to many things. You must ask the right questions.
Ok, there’s no way this is real, whoever’s behind this, you can stop the joke now!
- To whom are you speaking, there is no one else here.
Then who’s behind this?
- I don’t know.
Well whose idea was it?
- I don’t know?
Who the hell’s controlling this!?
- You are.
Nothingness. Then everything again.
If I’m in control, then why does that keep happening?
- I don’t know.
Great… Well I think this has to be a dream.
- How so?
Because if this was real, I wouldn’t keep popping like that; since in
the real world things don’t just disappear and pop back like that. That
kind of stuff only happens in dreams.
- You’re thinking backwards now. Have you forgotten your lessons already?
But this doesn’t happen in the real world!
- What is real? Real is only what you perceive with your senses! What
if in your “real world” I cut off all your senses! What if I connected
your brain to a machine that created false input for your brain?
But I would know it’s not real, I can’t interact with that world, I can’t pick things up!
- And if I redirected your output to the machine, and had the machine calculate new input from it?
That’s impossible! Nobody has that kind of technology!
- What kind of God are you that you can define the limits of possibility!?
I can’t…
- And the illusion would be no less real than your “real world”, would it.
No… but even if it did exist, I can control what I perceive, I can choose to never perceive something, so I decide what’s real!
- Exactly.
Nothingness. Then everything again.
That’s getting very annoying. How do I get out of here?
- You can’t. You will always be here.
What if I got out of this chair, and walked over there?
- Here is everywhere. Here is anywhere. You can never be anywhere but here.
But if I go stand in that spot I’m in a different place.
- Why? What’s different, you will still be able to tell me: “I am here”
Well, right now, this chair is here, and that spot is there; but when I
walk to that spot, it’ll become here, and this chair will become there.
- Very good.
So how do I go back to the world I know?
- You must make it real.
But how can I do that, I don’t even know if this is real!
- This is true, but remember, you decide what is real, and anything that is real must abide by your laws of reality.
What do you mean “my laws”?
- You believe that we had to get here somehow, don’t you? You believe
that your concept of the rest of the world exists and that since you
came to this chair from that world, you must be able to return to that
world from this chair. Am I right?
Yeah, I guess, but how do I know this isn’t a dream?
- Whether or not this is a dream is irrelevant…
Since it doesn’t make it any less real.
- Go on.
So all I have to do, is accept that this is real! Because then it makes
it real! And then it’s subject to my laws! And there has to be a way
back to the world I believe is real!
- You’ve learned your final lesson. Your door awaits.
Dark and cramped, tiny slivers of light coming from one of four cold,
metal walls, muffeled sounds of innumerable people walking, chattering,
and laughing. All this tinged with a slight scent of dried sweat and
spray deodorant. Such are the Boy’s surroundings; the standard
high-school locker.
This is just another part of the Boy’s everyday life. He is used to
such things, used to being shoved around in the halls, used to being
pushed out of the way in the lunch line – provided his money hasn’t
already been taken. He is used to being teased, taunted and generally
berated, just as he is used to being alone and getting no help. The
school’s staff members are too busy worrying about larger fights
involving many students, to worry about a single boy.
Despite all this, and despite his loathing of any sort of work, the Boy
does not mind school. It is for him and escape; an escape from the
cruel realities of an emotionally abusive father and a physically
abusive mother.
The boy had tried to ask his parents to help him with the bullies at
school. His father, with a tongue that could cut steel, told him that
he should stick up for himself, fight back. His father told him that if
he could not defend himself, if he could not protect the body his
mother had carried, then he did not deserve the life his parents had
given him. His father told him he was a lousy son, a sad excuse for a
human being, and a disgrace to his family. His mother was much more
direct. She beat him. She reasoned that if he had to whine about the
bullies at school, it was because he was not tough enough to handle
real life. So she beat him, with whatever blunt object was within her
reach, her bare hands if there were none. She beat him without pity or
remorse. The boy had to fight back tears until his mother tired, for
should she see any sign of weakness, she would beat it out of him.
The Boy has since learned to simply avoid his parents when he gets
home. He instead goes straight to his room and draws. His drawings near
always have a person, face hidden in some way, alone in a peaceful
setting. His most common settings being mountainous regions, or
forests, or streams, but all are natural locations, nothing man-made in
sight but the clothes on the person’s back – if he decides to clothe
them.
All this as part of a daily routine that rarely changed, a daily life full of misery that the boy has learned to repress.
******
The end of their lives is long and drawn-out. The Shadow takes its
time, making sure they suffer; making sure that when death mercifully
arrives, they will be wishing for the cold comfort of nothingness. The
Shadow has three steps to making their end perfect.
The first is a systematic breaking of their fingers. Every time they
wake, the Shadow breaks the next finger on each hand, as well as
breaking again any that are already broken. If all fingers are broken,
the process begins again. Starting with the thumb, and moving across
the hand, one finger at a time, gently caressing the finger a few
seconds, before savagely snapping it. This serves a dual purpose; to
both ensure constant pain and no possibility of reprisal.
Their cries of pain and terror echo through the dark room. The Shadow
does not care. It feels nothing. It is emotionless, cold and
calculating, with both a gentle touch, and a savage ferocity. Their
tears mix with dirt and blood to provide the only variance in taste
during the end of their lives. The Shadow always feeds them the same
unknown substance; just enough to keep them alive and conscious to
experience their torture.
The second part of their end is much more precise. With a rusty, but
sharp sliver of metal, the Shadow makes a small incision in their
chests; right over the heart. The incision is very small, barely a
scratch and only a few inches long, but it is just the beginning.
Whenever they wake, after they are fed and after the ritual finger
breaking, the Shadow pulls out its makeshift knife. With surgical
precision, and the care of a master laboring over his masterpiece, the
Shadow reopens the wound to its previous dimensions. It then makes the
incision deeper, but only slightly. Millimeter by millimeter, the
incision is made deeper, always able to reclose itself due to its
hair-like thinness.
This ritual continues, waking after waking, until the incision reaches
their hearts. The final step. The Shadow does not kill them yet; it
introduces a small necrophagic insect into the incision, and it places
it gently, lovingly, on their hearts. All that remains is for the
Shadow to wait for its pets to enjoy their treat as they slowly devour
the hearts. When finally death comes, the faces bear peaceful looks.
Not because they died in peace; only because they were too exhausted
from the tortures to alter their expressions. It is with this falsely
peaceful expression the two bloodied, mutilated victims finally come to
their end.
******
As per usual, the evening warden, just before going home, is making his
final rounds, picking up the empty dinner plates of the asylum
residents who eat in their rooms. The cold steel doors to these rooms
have no windows, and only a small slot at ground level, locked from the
outside, for the residents’ food plates to be passed through. The
residents of these rooms suffer from various conditions, but are all
deemed unsafe, too unpredictable, for regular social interaction. They
live their daily lives monotonously, meals arriving through the door
slot at the same time every day, and the empty plates returned to the
slot when they are done. Hygiene related tasks, such as baths, are done
when the resident is cooperative, dirty clothes being sent through a
chute built into the wall. Their spare time is occupied by whatever
interests the resident, be it blankly staring at the stark white walls,
obsessively cleaning them, or scribbling elaborate, albeit abstract and
meaningless mathematical calculations on them.
The Warden, arriving at room 1123, gets to his knees to unlock and open
the slot. He reaches in and finds the plate, pulls it out, and
discovers it still full, untouched by the room’s occupant. Intrigued,
he calls out. There is no response. The Warden finds out from the
secretary the name and phone number of the psychiatrist responsible for
patient 1123. Soon after, the Psychiatrist arrives and they both return
to the room.
Upon entering, the first thing they notice is the multitude of drawings
littering the floor; immediately following, the discovery of patient
1123, huddled in a corner, clutching what must be his final work, dead.
The Psychiatrist, baffled by the sudden and unexplained death of his
patient, meticulously reviews the pictures, which he has never seen
before, in an attempt to understand his patient.
All the pictures bear obvious similarities; they all have two people
writhing in terrible agony, bloody and dirty, with broken fingers and
vertical cuts on their chest. All have a dark, vague background and
contain a black, shapeless figure. This figure is either torturing the
two people, feeding them, or standing in the nearby blackness, eagerly
anticipating, while the two lie inert, apparently sleeping. None of the
drawings show any distinguishing features that could help identify the
two persons. All but one.
The Psychiatrist kept the drawing his patient had been holding for
last, believing it may hold the answer to his questions, an answer he
would not know unless he had already examined the other drawings. He
found it. In this last image, the two people sat dead, blood, dirt,
broken fingers, thoraxial wounds and all. But there was one major
difference. The faces were easily distinguishable and bore a peaceful
expression. The Psychiatrist recognized them as the parents who had
brought their teenage son to him decades ago.
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of what were adaptive traits that early humans evolved. As an example, take the quasi-universal moral that killing is wrong :
).