Story (2): Life and Work

Karl hated driving, normally. There was always pressure to get somewhere on time, always the fear of driving down the wrong road. always. He knew that if he could just drive, using only a compass, with no particular route in mind, and if he could master his fear, then another nail could be removed from his coffin.

***

Ever day since graduation, he'd felt the nails being driven in. Masters in Philosophy, summa cum laude from University of Toronto. When you live in Scarborough, it's not much of a commute. Most of the people Karl knew lived within 30 minutes of his house. His life was there. A teaching assistant, living in his grandparents basement. Mom and Dad travelled so often they decided to just sell their house altogether. They'd come back every once and a while, for the holidays. But otherwise... it was Karl, and Grandma (Grandpa was on a respirator, and senile as well).

This life Karl had come to know consisted of minute intellectual scraps he had with his self-proclaimed Buddhist, and newly liberated atheist undergrads. A few papers to mark, a few classes to prepare for, and such life went... for a while.

After cut-backs and staff changes, one day the budding would-be professor found himself without a job in academia.

***

It's amazing how quickly things slip through your fingers sometimes, and sure enough Karl was working at a Warehouse job packing skids of industrial cleaning supplies. He was told that he should be grateful in this economy for a job at all, his father reminded him, and according to mom some 'real' work would do him good.

As a metaphysician Karl knew only too well the dichotemy between every day life and the 'real world'. Moreover as a philosopher he also found the maxim of Aristotle -that physical labour degrades the mind- to be the reality of his life.

The more cleaner he packed, the more his anticipation grew for the mind numbing recreation he planned after each shift in the trenches. From 5pm to midnight he worked 4 days a week. As soon as he scrubbed his hands clean with the grainy orange soap at the end of his shift he would look in the mirror, and even though nothing had noticably changed, somehow it seemed like he had earned another day's work of value in the eyes of family and the world at large.

After he journeyed home and cleaned up, Karl would enter his 'real world'. If Plato was said to have his head stuck in the clouds, Karl could be said to have his in the computer.

Everquest had a reputation for being addictive, ever since he was 13 Karl had played this game. A massive multiplayer online role-playing game where (previously) thousands would play online together, it was the original, though popularity had waned of late. It had become such an important part of life, sometimes the everyday world of experience with it's fake smiles and formalities seemed to Karl like the game.



Comfort. The massive cushioned chair called to him amidst the immaculately cleaned game space. This corner of Karl's room was holy to him in the proper sense of the word. It was 'set apart' , it was the last safe place on earth, the balance that kept life all together. Once Karl even noticed that occasionally he would silently shed a tear of joy as he sat down and deeply exhaled all of the day's issues. He had a mini zen garden and everything for loading times and logins.

As he logged on at quarter to one, he was reunited to his friends. From Seattle to Memphis to Glasgow, Karl had his online fellow raiders. It didn't matter that they had everything they wanted in-game. It didn't matter that hardly anyone played anymore, nothing mattered but their companionship. The voices of these people, the jokes and personalities, the community they had was real. Even if their characters weren't.

After the hours of laughter, sometimes serious conversation, and alot of silent space filled only with the occasional sound effect or sigh of a friend, Karl would log off. Stumbling next to his bedside shrine, he would mumble through the Rosary in Latin, make the signum crucis (Sign of the Cross), and gaze one last time at the icon of Mary before blowing out the candle and passing out in bed.

In lecture once Karl had heard that Bishop Berkeley said that it was more important for Heaven to exist, than for us to be there. Thinking back on it later, he felt his online home was much the same as Berkeley's Heaven. As long as it remained, the foundation of life could not be moved. Even in the darkest hours of work, or the lonely dinners with his elderly warden.

***

But obviously since Karl found himself with 2 packed suitcases and a passport in his trembling hands, the foundation had moved.

Twelve days before the incident in the parking lot, the proverbial Krakatoa occurred for Karl. Sony had declared that they had gone bankrupt, and as a result their games would be offline - possibly indefinately. There were many tears and angry complaints among the guild. Genuine fear gripped these people. After all, their particular gaming group or guild (cleverly called 'zeno's zealots' - it was a philosophy joke Karl had made up) had been around for almost 5 years, and many had been playing -like Karl- for over a decade.

One of the guys in the group had a large house in Virginia, and he promised he'd be able to make his own private local server. If we could all get to his place, we could all play together and things would be just like old times. The strange thing was, none of them knew each other 'irl' (in real life), but the offer still stood, for any willing to brave the trek.

It only took 5 days for Karl to finally crack, it was decided, he would go to meet his guild. When your life falls apart, you have to begin to piece it together somewhere. Karl didn't know about philosophy, or family, but he did know one thing he couldn't live without, his community.

"We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend." - Robert Louis Stevenson

Beginning a Story

I've been trying to write a story recently, and I just decided to start writing rather than continue planning and failing to actually do it. Here is the terrible rough draft:

The Empty Parking Space

Karl went to work. That's what everyone thought he did, though he got angry about it and sometimes acted melodramatic over something so simple, so everyday. As he drove by the Chevron station he noticed the gas in his tank dangerously low. 'fuck it, if I'm late for work what does it matter' Karl thought. Taking himself far too seriously Karl filled his tank and drove to the warehouse. He looked at the clock. 5:03. Knowing he had 3 minutes left before he would have to deal with a supervisor in order to begin work he shut off the engine and looked in the mirror.

Dead eyes, dirty baseball cap, 3 chins. Karl didn't recognize himself. Perhaps - he wondered, being the philosophical type - perhaps I'm not myself.

'what doth it profit a man if he gaineth the whole world and yet lose his soul?'

At 5:07 Karl was not on the shop floor, he was gone. No one would notice for 10 more minutes. No one would worry for 20. No phone calls would be made for 30. But it didn't matter. Karl was gone, and no one would've predicted where he was headed or why.

With the window down and his arm out catching the breeze he was free. Life and all it's cramp pettiness and mundanity had prepared to make the killing blow, but something happened which Fate itself could not see. Karl had gotten up, he had survived. The empty parking space was the only difference it seemed, but how great the difference was for a man starting over again. It might've been an empty cell



(to be continued)

The Strangers in my Life

I just finised reading, for my existential philosophy class, a book called "The Stranger" by Albert Camus. Camus was a famous existentialist atheist and this is one of his 'great' works. The one thing I like about the Atheist existentialists (probably the only thing I like about them) is their logical consistency / systematic thinking. For them, there really can be no knowledge beyond your own personal experience. Thus for them, God is dead and irrelevant because to some extent reason is dead. Theorizing about the origins of existence are meaningless, indeed for them, life itself is entirely devoid of meaning.

It's disturbing to me because the story is all about a man who believes in nothing. He doesn't really believe in love, he doesn't care about God or anything metaphysical at all really. He doesn't feel anything when his mother dies, when a woman proposes to him, when he kills a man, or finally when he is condemned to death. Complete and utter apathy. In the novel the chaplains and lawyers can't understand how he has no desire for anything else, just life without any meaning or hope.

Now there are many non-Christian and even some atheistic worldviews that DO posit meaning to one's life or at least existence, and with those people a dialogue is possible. If a man loves his wife or even money one can have a discussion about values and meaning, etc. But if a man is utterly apathetic and detached from everything, there is nothing one can do.

I've met some people at Brock this year that have scared me in this way. They have terrible things happen to them, or be heartbroken, but none of this leads them to any questioning. They don't even hate God or life - which I think is preferable to indifference. They just are, they aren't looking for any answers.

It all reminds me of a character I greatly admire, a man who is the complete antithesis to Camus' 'stranger'. Socrates, the gadfly of Athens who asked the great questions about life, justice, goodness, beauty, etc. He ended up dying, but one of my favourite quotes from him is: "the unexamined life is not worth living". I tend to agree with him, and so I am still having difficulty dealing with people not content to even participate in life. People who just subsist. It reminds me that -as people from St. Augustine to Eli Wiesel have said before - that the opposite of love is not hate, it's apathy. Apathy is like Darkness. It's the absence of anything.

cookie-cutter neo-darwinians/Dawkinites, University Buddhists, Drunken Hedonists, and God-Hating Atheists are all normal figures in university life. But Camus has shown me my greatest fear in his novel. If you want to know what life looks like in post-modern atheism, feel free to read the book. I guarentee you'll be looking for meaning anywhere after it.

I'm Fine With Unpopularity / Peer Pressure

I don't know how, but tonight I actually learned alot about myself. I think the 3 causes of these changes that I noticed are: 1. Going to Counseling, 2. Accepting Aristotle/Thomas into my brain, 3. Becoming Catholic (I know everyone's sick of me talking about it, but it will be really brief I promise).

Tonight, I was guilted into going to a party I didn't want to go to. It was with a bunch of friends from my Mennonite high school. The birthday boy is an atheist and all night he was provoking conversation about God and/or Atheism. But to my surprise, I didn't take the bait. I just accepted him as he was - not to say I thought he was right or anything, but I felt he needed time and space and that it wasn't worth arguing about right then.

After everyone was finished at the bar we were seated in, they all wanted to go to another bar. I felt that I was done, I'd had a great time, but didn't wan to go to this new bar. Everyone started guilting me and trying to persuade me. The nicer folk tried to make excuses for me ('he probably has to work in the morning'), and one friend even used Religion to taunt me "it's because we aren't Catholic isn't it!" (I enjoyed this ridiculous red-herring, along with people shouting about Ireland). But I thought - what would Aristotle do/what will make Andrew most fulfilled. After pondering this I thought, going home will be the happiest choice. I didn't owe any obligation or responsibility to anyone, I had been nice to everyone, so why did I have to go out afterwards? The short answer is: I didn't. So I just refused, I just said no. I decided not to lie and make excuses, I just said it plainly that I didn't want to go. So I left.

I remember my counselor once saying about depression 'if you're sad, just say "I'm sad, and that's ok, so what?" So tonight I just said "I don't want to be cool, I don't want to go to another bar, and that's ok". It was classic peer pressure - my friend caved and went with everyone else (though I think he was just chasing a skirt). But on the drive home I had an epiphany: I don't need to be cool, I never will be cool, and that's ok. I have facebook quotes from 18th century Tory MP Viscount Henry St. John Bolingbroke, and the medieval philosopher Boethius, that's not cool or normal. I'm 275 pounds give or take some, that's not normal, that's not cool. I have depression that comes and goes. And I'm Catholic - which to cite Evelyn Waugh just makes me completely different from the surrounding world. There's nothing normal or cool about me, and I'm just accepting that. ... Maybe that makes me cool...

The Invisible, Uncreated world of Being, Makes More Sense than the Material World of Becoming

Plato, Kant, Thomas, Augustine, and Jesus all posited a (post) hellenic worldview whereby behind everything in the physical world, there existed ideas, the non-material, the noumenal, God. Something Other, something not like what we see. From our life experience and our own human being/existence, we know that Being must exist.

Plato posited that there was a realm of the Forms whereby every essence existed in a non-material state. This means that when I use the word "is", the concept is a universal one that people can actually understand. The fact that no one can define "Being" is proof that we use in every language concepts that are beyond our explanation.

Crazily enough one deity is rumored to have said "I am who I am" - interpretted by many as "I am Being", and that for every human being, it is possible to say of this deity "in Him we live and move and breathe and have our being".

If Being (invisible world) is the whiteboard, Becoming (visible material world) is the writing on it. Without Being, Nietzsche rightly said, we can only speak in verbs. There are no nouns. You are not essentially anything, you are an accidental cluster of atoms constantly in flux until you die.... oh, and by the way. You weren't caused.... figure that out.

Accepting that all of existence and your own personal life does not follow logic (because logic necessitates causation which would require an existant non-material 'spiritual' entity to have created time and matter), accepting such a worldview would mean that everything is meaningless, there is no truth, there can be no true emotion between people. There can only be chemistry and biology and physics, and again remember none of those sciences can follow any pattern as this would imply logic or meaning. That is one alternative. It's as I've said objectively illogical (as it would be since logic doesn't exist). It's rather like a paranoid person who says all the world is conspiring against them, and then another person trying to explain to them that this is not true. The more the rational person explains, the more the paranoid person believes they are vindicated. (I stole that one from Chesterton).

For the rest of humanity, that isn't ready to kiss away Love, Meaning, Human Rights, and Reason, there exists another possibility in the invisible world. That's personally why I'd rather be a Platonist, or an Idealist, or an Aristotelian, or a Thomist, or a Jew, or a Deist, or a Muslim, or a Christian, or a Morman, or a worshipper of the Flying Spagetti Monster (provided he was immaterial) than be a materialist.

For the philosopher, Materialism is a joke, the phrase "the material world is the only reality" disproves materialism (language implies reason, which implies non-material principles, more "invisible" reality). Similarly a "God's eye view" of the world that claims God doesn't exist is impossible, as it would be a universal statement in a universe without universal truth! (oft repeated but true nonetheless).

Thus one can say "I don't think the (realm of the Forms/God/Noumenal/Ideal) exists" but the statement must be understood as an illogical claim, based on either emotion or unjustified opinion.

Humanities: 1 , Material Sciences: 0

Beauty and the Beast, Existentialism, and Love

I was woken by my cat at 6:15 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. So I brought my bedding into the loft and watched Beauty and the Beast which my brother's wife had left at our house. No not the new remastered edition, the old VHS. I hadn't watched the film since I was a kid when it was released in 1991, and as usual my memory served me quite accurately, though of course some parts were surprises again (I forgot what a douchebag the beast is).



Anyway, the movie while arousing my interest, didn't satisfy my desire to find some deep message. I thought for a while about the admixture of modern pagan and romanticized post-christian humanist values and thought this could only be disney's doing. So I read the original (dubious as any claim to originality a fairy story can have), by Jeanne-Marie LePrince de Beaumont (http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/beauty.html) it was short, but much better than the film. I liked the Thomistic 'moral' of the story

"come and receive the reward of your judicious choice; you have preferred virtue before either wit or beauty, and deserve to find a person in whom all these qualifications are united." -spoken to Beauty after her choice of the Beast and his transformation

It reminded me of the biblical story of Samuel/God choosing David based on the virtue rather than appearance.

"And it came to pass, when they were come, that he looked on Eliab, and said, Surely the LORD's anointed is before him. But the LORD said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart." - 1 Samuel 16:6-7 (KJV)

Of course to me, there could be two much more interesting tales which I'll outline here:

1. The Handsomest and the Hag - a story about a handsome man who falls in love with an ugly woman. To be fair to the ladies, the story is usually reversed, and women are still seen as having to be attractive. (For a cartoon Belle was pretty hot). Imagine a reversal of what I like to call the King-of-Queens-syndrome, where we always have the fat ugly guy, and the beautiful girl. I don't know how people (myself included) would react to a story like that.

2. A Tale of Two Uglies - a story about two ugly people who remain ugly and learn to love each other even if they aren't attracted to each other. At the end, when they both realize that they still love each other even if they're both ugly, no transformation takes place, and they live average lives.

Although to the credit of the film, the fairy story, and my other ideas, the one transcendent truth coming through each, is the idea that loving something makes it lovable.

For example, there is a girl in one of my classes at Brock, whom upon first glance was rather ugly. Her ears were big and uneven, her voice squeaky, and she had no chest to speak of. But as I got to know her and listen to her ideas and life, suddenly I found myself attracted to her. Admittedly, not overwhelmingly, and certainly not in a true love type way.

In taking an Existentialism class, this is one thing I am appreciating the most. We put meaning on objects we conceive. When I look at a piece of bread, I conceive it as food. When I look at a consecrated Eucharistic host, I conceive it as the Body and Blood of God. Very divergent meanings for empirically the same accidents/appearances.

This is what love I think is most like - no wonder they talk about love potions and spells - it is deceptive, it doesn't follow appearances. And in this post-Christian culture, it is perhaps the only gift of grace that people have certain faith in. This is a beautiful revelation/reminder to the Christian as the apostle tells us that Love is the greatest (1 Corinthians 13).

and now that I think of it, you could make a great WoW version of the movie with a Tauren male and a Human/Blood Elf female.

What Exists? The Senses and Reason? Thomas, Berkeley, Kant

I'm trying to figure out whether I believe the world actually exists because I see it and experience it with my senses (Thomas Aquinas/Aristotle/Realism), or whether I think it exists and so it exists, and that the only real thing I can be sure of is that I think, and so existence can only really be linked to thinking. Thus for universal existence, there must be a mind conceiving of the world all at once (thoughts in the mind of God) (Berkeley/Plato/Exaggerated Realism).

To me exaggerated realism leads to neoplatonic and protestant errors in it's emphasis on the mind, whereas empiricism is kind of baseless (why should we trust the senses) and leads to existentialism and postmodernism (which might not be a bad thing, I'm still figuring this out).

Where this is relevant is kind of funny. I was walking around Brock yesterday and I saw a girl bending over with alot of cleavage and I wondered if that was a thought in the mind of God, or a sensical discovery. I am starting to appreciate the physical world of phenomena and senses more and more (not in the way mentioned above per se), but just trying to sit down and actually experience life. To realize my body is ME and that I'm actually travelling at ridiculous speeds on a rock spinning in the universe. Realizing that this life we live now is so important and beautiful, but at the same time - as Pascal says - "the most fragile thing in the world".

The more I read about Immanuel Kant, the more I like the guy, obviously he has some problems, but his theory is that we experience, and then we reason which acts kind of like the final sense (if I've understood him properly). As I watch home movies of me as an infant and realize that I wasn't reasoning yet, I think it shows that Berkeley is out and that it's either Thomas or Kant or someone else I find. Kant said something that I've been thinking about for a while now to see if I agree with it: "to be is to do"

Any Thoughts?