And you and I
Sunday, November 27, 2005
East is East, and West is West
I'll tell you, the Internet is truly a remarkable medium. Never has information been so accessible to so many people as it is now. I shutter to think of the times I had to go to the library to learn stuff. I wonder if 500 years in the future we'll look back on the invention of the Internet as something akin to the development of the printing press. Al Gore, of course, will be Gutenberg’s 20th century's equivalent. Come on, you know you were thinking it too.
This week looks to be rather slow, comparatively, which means I had lots of time to study today. So, naturally, I spent it all on the Internet, “researching”.
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…Kipling once wrote that "East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet", and while globalism and modernization have made dim this border, I would tend to agree with Kipling and doubt I shall ever truly understand this culture. I suppose the cultural differences I mentioned in my last chapel speech sparked some small taper of interest within me, but I've become rather curious of late about the philosophical lines between East and West. Somewhere in the peaks of the Himalayas, the snows of Siberia, and the waters of the Pacific, there is an inscrutable frontier that divides our Western, largely Greek-based thought from that of the East, teachings that seem to have originated, in some form, from the Arian peoples of India, but of which only a part trickled over those ridges.
I had been considering, as a topic for my next chapel speech, the study of aesthetics, and was planning on following the basic pattern of 1) contemplating the nature of beauty 2) defining it as imitation of, aspiration to, or expression of perfection, and then 3) make the obvious connection between perfection and God. Trouble was, as I began researching, I came to realize that this idea of beauty was fundamentally a Western (and more precisely, Greek) notion that wasn't necessarily echoed by Eastern counterparts. Admittedly, Western thought and philosophy enjoys increasing worldwide popularity (particularly its political philosophies), even amongst non-Western cultures, and the argument might be (and probably has been) raised that it stands poised to supplant corresponding thought in the East. Nevertheless, I had to give pause to the Japanese aesthetic principles of iki and wabi sabi. Throughout these philosophies runs the undercurrent of Zen and the idea of beauty in impermanence, imperfection, and asymmetry, principles we find reflected in various Japanese art forms, such as ikebana (flower arrangement), tea ceremony, and Zen gardens. These certainly aren't difficult concepts to comprehend--we all find beauty in the changing of the seasons, the fading of sunlight, and those bitterest of moments in life often have trace amounts of sweetness--and yet they conflict with much traditional Western philosophical teachings, namely the Platonic ideal of forms, and a Pythagorean universe built on perfect numerical ratios and symmetry, among others.
I'm not sure if I find this disturbing or not. Why should I? This certainly isn't the first time I've been forced to confront philosophies that run counter to my own. I suppose it's a bit troubling to find that your entire set of values and views on reality is built upon the basic ideas of a single ancient society. Even values like religious beliefs that supposedly transcend cultural boundaries are not immune to these influences (the notions of omnipotence and perfection traditionally associated with God also apparently stemming from Greek thought and may or may not have been shared by the Jewish people). What's the problem with an entire paradigm deriving from a culturally specific source? They had to come from somewhere, didn't they?
I knew that different peoples have vastly different ideas on existence and reality, but it's one thing to learn your lessons in the classroom and quite another to learn them in the real world. Furthermore, most of the peoples I had studied in an anthropological setting were of dying cultures and lived almost exclusively in the 3rd world; it's a little easier to justify your own views as correct ones when not only have you never lived amongst those who hold vastly different ones, but also all the others you've studied seem to have brought their people nothing but grass huts and a high infant-morality rate. But the Far East is thriving; whether their philosophies are remains up for debate, but as of now they're inescapable realities of the Orient, weaving themselves into a special Eastern-brand of prosperity.
I'm not a relativist: truth is truth, just as love is love, and beauty is beauty, and these three things alone make life worth living. I don't know how I rationalize away contradicting philosophies. Are they wrong? Are their adherents being duped? Perhaps even more of a concern is attraction to such teachings. Do you ever feel drawn to a philosophy, even though it conflicts with your current set of values? For me it's Objectivism; it's just so simple and balanced (drawing on our notions of equality and symmetry): 1) Man's morals come from the self and are determined by reason; 2) The individual should exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing self to others nor others to self; 3) No one has the right to seek values from others by physical force, or impose ideas on others by physical force. Obviously the first two tenets rule out the possibility of the existence of God in any form we recognize (and in fact altogether if you delve further) and altruism as a moral good. And although this three-pronged approach to reality seems attractive, it obviously conflicts with my beliefs in both God and altruism as the equivalent of nobility. And yet I’ve lost no sleep, not recently anyways; should this be bothering me more?
No existential crisis here, just thinking a bit out loud, wondering if anyone else thinks about these things or experiences these same "problems".
Monday, November 21, 2005
Liberalism: An Ideology of Contrariety
I'm a bit starved for American television over here, so anything I can get my hands on soon becomes a bit of an obsession. Recently, I've found myself absorbed in the teenage years Superman in Smallville, which is truly an underappreciated show, in my humble opinion. I also watch an inordinate amount of reality television. And, I'm currently borrowing the first season of The West Wing. If you've never seen it, The West Wing is an Aaron Sorkin television series of the same vein as Sports Night, with fairly smart writing that requires a certain amount of viewer involvement and participation to keep up. His politics appear sometimes masked, sometimes painfully salient, but I do my best to overlook them and enjoy the quick wit of an Aaron Sorkin drama.
Until this most recent episode.
In it, Rob Lowe's character is trying to ask the daughter of the chief of staff out on a date, but she is a firm supporter of government education and he an ardent backer of school vouchers. As expected, they begin to quarrel, and a charming little scene ensues in which the woman asks her father's permission to date "a Fascist", much like a little girl asking to spend the night at a friend's might. It's like a lame and inconsequential version of Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. Her father stays out of their dispute--which is getting more and more heated by the minute--and eventually Rob Lowe is forced to come clean and tell her that really he is a sensible guy who supports government education; he was just preparing for a policy debate and wanted to familiarize himself with the opposing side's arguments
Oh, Aaron, you did have us going.
In an atwitter endorsement of government largesse, he reveals his true views on education: education, he claims, should be a right due every American, just like defense, "free" of charge. Schools should be palaces (a direct quote), and they should be free, he just wasn't sure how to do that yet.
The unintended yet candid glimpse at government's views on education and other spending aside, I had a very difficult time getting a handle on this episode. To be honest, I really haven't studied the school vouchers proposal all that much, and I'm sure there are perhaps arguments to be made against it. But the one thing I do know about it (and regardless of your views, I would think you'd have to agree) is that it does gives citizens a choice. As it stands now, citizens are able to choose between a myriad of private schools and the local government institution. And yet, they are forced to pay for a government education, regardless of whether or not they use it. Vouchers allow those who choose a private institution to pay only for that which they use (i.e. not pay taxes toward the public education system). Does support of such a system warrant being labeled a Fascist? Perhaps a quick perusal of the tenets of Fascism is in order:
Fascism is definitely and absolutely opposed to the doctrines of liberalism, both in the political and economic sphere. ... The Fascist State lays claim to rule in the economic field no less than in others; it makes its action felt throughout the length and breadth of the country by means of its corporate, social, and educational institutions, and all the political, economic, and spiritual forces of the nation, organized in their respective associations, circulate within the State. - Benito Mussolini, 1935, "The Doctrine of Fascism,"
How was it that, by calling for an alternative to State-controlled education, this man was given a label that calls for all spheres and institutions to be under the rule of the State? If we take the founder of Fascism at his word--that Fascism is the polar opposite of liberalism, an ideology whose very name means freedom--how was it that by supporting the addition of freedom--freedom of choice--this man became an advocate of an anti-freedom ideology?
To come at this from a different angle, by opposing the freedom of choice in the education sphere, how was this woman either actually or at least closer to being liberal (supporting freedom) than the man who wanted more freedom? Ok, not trying to beat a dead horse here, just trying to wrap my head around this: by supporting less freedom, you are somehow more freedom-loving than those who support more freedom. Did I get that right?
The logic of the Left is truly remarkable. Only under the tenets of Liberalism (with a capital L) could one reconcile completely contrary beliefs and principles (hell, its very name is in contrast to its creed). This is the same ideology under which the phenomenon of Global Warming can magically create global cooling, the same ideology where one can be both a frenetic advocate of human rights and a firm supporter of prenatal murder.
But I think I might have figured it out.
Liberalism, also known as Welfare-Liberalism, claims to create freedom by taking it away--that is, by removing some of our freedoms (here more aptly called reliances, I suppose), the government can actually make us freer (for example, taking away certain economic freedoms might free us from our socio-economic backgrounds etc.). It is the freedom to--such as the freedom to pursue our dreams and goals unencumbered by such frivolities as our level of education, inherent abilities, or the amount of money in our bank accounts--something that's called positive freedom, or as I like to call it, positively bull-shit freedom. This, of course, is opposed to negative freedom, which is freedom from, such as freedom from illegal search and seizure, freedom from theft by government agents, freedom from dandified socialist policies etc. Thus, the ideology of Liberalism is one that believes in creating freedom by removing it, an ideology I think our two characters above might identify with rather strongly.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
I'm addicted to running
It's true; I display all the symptoms: a craving for more of the drug, or of the initial behavior, increased physiological tolerance to exposure, and withdrawal symptoms in the absence of the stimulus. And this last part is a real bitch.
For the second time in my training, this past Saturday I ran 22 miles, the longest run of my program. I could run a marathon right now, and though I don't imagine it would be a very good one, still, it's an invigorating thought to think that in five months time, I've come from not being able to run in excess of 3 miles to being able to summit this peak of athletic accomplishment.
The first 22-miler:
I had sprained my ankle that past Thursday--despite all assurances from my mom that I possess ankles of pure adamant--but bought myself a brace on Saturday evening knowing the necessity of following my training schedule to the "T" (or nearly so), tender ankle or no. I left my apartment, my mind was elsewhere, and just 4 miles in, I rolled my ankle once again. Lying on the ground, cursing, I had resigned to the fact that that day just wasn't meant to be and resolved to pack it in and head by to my apartment. After taking a few awkward strides back in the direction I came, I suddenly realized that neither my energy nor my indomitable will would allow this defeat. And I turned to finish what I started, running through two sprains. I was like that guy in those war movies who has his eyes fixed on some target, some goal, and despite being riddles with enemy bullets, or arrows, depending on the time period, he remains steadfast in his aim. You know, he's usually the right hand man of the hero, a true and loyal friend with the build of a bear, but a heart as pure as gold. He risks his life in protection of our hero or sacrifices it for the cause, whatever that may be, knowing that the fate of the battle rests on him, his mission, and the fulfillment of his duty. It was the same here with me, except that I was the hero, of course. I mean, this is the "Nick Show", damnit, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some upstart steal my thunder.
The second:
This past Saturday was also quite pleasant. It was cool out, and there was a strong breeze blowing over the city. Taking full advantage, we (Andrew and I) adjusted our heading, unfurled our spinnaker, and let the wind carry us home.
Getting back to the topic of this post, running has a way of making you feel incredibly cheerful when you finish (something about endorphins). I was in a superb mood on Saturday evening and this carried over all the way through Monday, at which point I wanted to prolong the high and could hardly wait to get back out on the road. But, as luck--or my Nazi school--would have it, I had a 3 hour meeting to attend on Monday afternoon and didn't get back until after 7, at which time I had absolutely no desire to extend my day another 2 hours with a 15 mile run. So I decided to postpone it until Tuesday.
Tuesday I ate a cheeseburger at Gusto, and if you've never had a Gusto burger, let me tell you......they're actually not that good. But, compared to
People were staring.
I crossed that verge and started crying.
People were now laughing.
Somehow, by the grace of God, I managed to make it back to the lovely KKR Hotel, and compose myself so I gave off that paying customer-vibe.
Needless to say, I didn't get a decent run in until this Thursday, and I've felt like crap all week because of it. Well, that and the cheeseburger. I was lethargic, lazy, and generally depressed. These are the withdrawal symptoms. And magically, after 15 miles that Thursday, I was back on top: brain's clicking, blood's pumping, and the sunshine exposes the slightest upturn in the corners of my mouth. Yes, I'm smiling.
This is why I don't cook.
