Posts Tagged ‘philosophy


Maxim #1

What is the meaning of life? That question is an attempt to avoid the responsiblity that God has given directly to us: That we define our own meaning.

How great and terrible is that gift. Don’t be afraid of it, though. Attack life.


The Realist’s Manifesto

It seems it is now time to tell people, in the plainest of language exactly what I think and I why I think it. It’s best to arm one’s self with aforethought when entering the culture war. So here is the Realist’s Manifesto.  Part I


What if a symptom of regression lurked in the “good,” likewise a danger, a seduction, a poison, a narcotic, through which the present lived at the expense of the future? Perhaps more comfortably, less dangerously, but at the same time in a meaner style, more basely? — So that morality itself were to blame if the highest power and splendor possible to the type man was never in fact attained? So that morality itself was the danger of dangers?” ~Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals

The world upon which man is birthed and carries out his life as best he can is one of immense beauty and near infinite complexity. Hard and rigid beliefs constrict men and societies until they are honor-bound to obey the subliminal laws of culture. Culture is formed from a myriad of factors, not the least of which are religion, available natural resources, other nearby cultures and historic ideological figures. In a word, culture is everything, and men die because of it, for it– and without it. Men need culture and will always seek it.

The oldest cultures in history were wandering tribesmen. They formed their own micro-societies, moving about to secure food and shelter. Their leader was doubtless the man who was strongest, fastest, and most willing to shed blood. He was a man to be feared and respected, because if one would follow him, one could find what was needed to feed family and to protect life from other wandering tribes. The ancient wandering tribesman had the advantage of making his own mythology from his limited perceptions of the world around him. He was not told by the likes of today’s talking heads how the world should be observed. Though he was limited in his ability to determine causality, he never lacked the ability to see phenomena clearly, he never denied seeing what he was seeing. Indeed, his vision was much clearer than ours because he knew that the Law of the Jungle was unalterable and easily observed. The strong survive. Morality melts before the sword of the unjust. So the just must take up their own sword…

Even those that deny Kipling’s Law of the Jungle with their words, live under the power of that same law everyday. It is too easy to condemn one who uses strength and power to protect himself. It is arrogance and pernicious criticism. Few are willing to die for ideological pacifism. And one could suspect that even those who are willing, do so in penultimate stubbornness, bearing death before the humility of admitting one wants to live.

Morality only guides the just, but it cannot protect from the unjust. To the reaver, the thief, the tyrant, morality is the great enabler of his  crimes leaving gaps in the victim’s defenses.  And it can never be moral to die in a gutter to a robber, to leave behind fatherless children because of the aggressions of  a maniac, or to accept psychological destruction at the hands of a rapist. So the Realist’s morality leaves no gaps. The aggressor sets the rules of the deadly game. It is a game we are willing to at least try to win, because this life is what we desire. We do not give into death and destruction merely as a means of displaying our nobleness. Most of all though, the Realist knows that there is evil in the world. He knows what that evil looks like, and he is never afraid to point out the evil, which seeks to hide amidst subtle words and clever lies. This evil often resembles the person who blames a rape victim for her defilement on the fact that her slip was showing. Heads deserved severing when Muhammad’s image or name is defiled. This is the type of evil the Realist plainly sees and without telling himself comforting lies, aggressively attempts to destroy.

Next: Part II


God is dead. God remains dead.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? ~ Nietzsche~ Thus Spake Zarathustra

In 1885, Nietzsche announced the death of God to a stunned world. Yes–We–killed God. And we mutilate His corpse even today. The media hacks at His body at every chance. Look! It’s another fallen pastor! This proves that there is no God, at least no Christian God.

And of course the Darwinists make it their reason for living, kicking the rotting meat that was God. It seems the only reason they want to study science at all; to silence that nasty little voice in their head that whispers: “Perhaps God…is.”

As unbelief becomes more prevalent, I expect our society to slowly come apart at the seems.


Why I’m an existentialist

I know–some of my blogs have been far too serious of late. But it’s the mood I’m in, so I’ll let my demon carry me.

Perhaps I inherited my nature from my mother. She was a pessimist in my estimation. I haven’t seen her in almost twenty years, so maybe she’s donned rose-colored glasses–but I doubt that.

My life experiences have I think, to a greater degree affected my thinking than my genetics. After all, genetics would be the easy way out, something to blame for my own glass-half-empty ethos–and that just wouldn’t be existentialist of me.

What is existentialism? Well, I’m no expert, like my friend, Dr. Michael LaBossiere, but here’s a quick overview:

1) Personal choices and responsibility reign supreme. The blame game is counter-productive (enjoying one’s self at the expense of progress, as Ralph Peters puts it) and quite often wrong. It’s the mere avoiding of the painful truth that our own choices often get us into bad spots.

2) No set of hard and fast rules can make everyone happy all of the time.Technology cannot and will never save humanity from itself.

3) At times there are difficult or downright horrible truths to be faced. But face them we must. Many times the universe is illogical–which brings into question science AND religion–neither can escape the existentialist’s questioning mind with easy answers. But ultimately we must choose something.

4) There is no magic way of avoiding pain and each of us must find his or her own path and define ourselves through our personal experiences. We have no inherent value except that which WE build through our actions.

5) To sum it up, existentialism is about the individual, which is why Nietzche said (I’m paraphrasing) that he despised systems and systemizers.

Interestingly, existentialism has been the philosophy of people who’s beliefs would seem to be diametrically opposed: Dostoyevsky (Christian); Nietzsche (Anti-Christian), Kierkegaard sp? (Christian); Sartre (Atheist). But they all had many things in common too. They did not believe that a system or government could make individuals happy. It’s personal and up too us to find what does that.

Before I went into the Army, my friend Dr. LaBossiere told me I was Nietzschean. I disagreed at the time, primarily because Nietzsche was an atheist, and I’m not. But in many cases Mike was correct. As Nietzsche believed, so do I: The universe is a big, oft-illogical place with no easy answers. Sweet lies will not relieve us of our burden of choice and personal responsibility. And finally, sometimes things go really, really bad, no matter what we do.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky is one of my favorite authors. Reading his books, though sometimes a literary chore because of the dozens of characters and psychological complexity, is like looking into a mirror. I see my own thinking on those pages.

Nietzsche’s writing is the same. Though his themes are dark, I find myself feeling energized by his works. I’m less familiar with Kierkagaard, but from the little I’ve read I like what I see.

My time in training with the Army has revealed something to me. I’m not being true to my self if I’m overly and senslessly positive. I feel like that kind of thought is at once disarming and a lie.

Last week, someone told me that I’m too serious. I shrugged my shoulders, because, for one thing, they’re wrong. For another, if by too serious they mean–seeing the world the way it really is– then I’ll accept the brand.

Besides, paradoxically, I’m happier being a pessimist! Too bad girls do hate a pessimist….


The Collision of Souls

The good ol days weren’t always good, and tomorrow aint as bad as it seems.~ Billy Joel


I wrote most of this while I was driving my car. Wrote it in my head.

A song from one of my favorite bands, Collective Soul, came on the radio. I thought to myself about the difficult times I was going through when that song first came out. Songs do that to me. I can usually remember what was going on in my life when they hit the airwaves.

Then I thought about the more recent difficult times. Then I thought about the difficult times before Collective Soul. Then I thought about the fact that there has never really been a time that wasn’t a difficult time.

I doubt that it’s much different for anyone else.

That’s what has been allotted man: A world of colliding bodies, souls, ethics. A struggle every day to find our Golden Mean. A war within our own minds that rages even when we’ve conquered our external foes.

And it’s eternal war. It began with the first man, whether he arose from the chaos of an antediluvian soup, or the Logos felt the urge for company in a dark and lonely cosmos.

This war, I suspect, will continue until the eve of man. There will be no peace, only a continual striving for some ephemeral feeling that we’re not sure exists. We want to feel good. We’re not sure we ever will.

The closest man comes to satisfaction, is when he is close to death, either in time or circumstance. His vision narrows, his senses heighten, his mind focuses, laser-like. There is no problem to solve but that which benefits the immediate and corporeal. Food, water, shelter, family. When the man who’s near death claws himself bloody and bruised over the burm of danger, his vision of the world will be forever changed.

Then the man will slowly awaken again to the morn of another inner war. Having defeated his external enemies, he must now turn on himself, smashing his own confidence, finding solitude in melancholy, remembering good old days that weren’t good at all… 

Collisions. All souls, all social structures, all beliefs–all civilizations–will collide as long as man is man. Some structures will be smashed beyond recognition. Some will be so damaged as to waste centuries in withered existence. The best will rise from an ashen mound, refined as chromium steel.

The dreamers will dream their dreams. They espouse the next Utopian vision, reminding us of past impossibilities now possible. They will ignore the horrible fact, that for every dreamer who succeeds, one thousand fail.

And no dreamer has ever changed an ounce of the human soul. No dreamer has changed the fact that at our basest, we are no better than the starving wolf, the enraged lion, or the sickened antelope that’s fallen too far from the pack, mere minutes from it’s final collision–with the jaws of a stalking cheetah.

Blog Stats

  • 156,055 hits

Flickr Photos