Philosophy by the End of a Lit Cigarette

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 19:58:35 GMT

What I said before is still very much true, top start off with. I am by no means a journalist. I am better suited as a Greco/Roman style poet and a critic of such works. Furthermore I’ve learned I am a student of the Socratic Method. To write a manifesto or dissertation compiling all of my opinions and beliefs seems presumptuous to me; that and I would be defining what are dynamic institutions in my soul to a clear and limited format. One cannot ask a book any questions and expect an answer other than what the book already states. Philosophy such as this is should be formatively alive. What I aim to do here is give myself a present overview/order to my faith in this world and inspire questions in those who are genuinely interested as well.

By no means should this be taken as a way of living a life. I am mortal. I make mistakes [Good Lord…the mistakes I have made]. I am no better or worse than anyone else. So I must assert myself as a true student of Socrates by admitting the true domain of my ignorance. I truly know nothing other than myself. These are truths for me and me alone. Please take them only as such, otherwise you’d be resigning yourself to being as big of an idiot as I am.

I like to ask questions; to that end I am forever the student. I always want to learn and understand. Knowledge is power, I believe. I seek the power to grow and better myself within this world I live in. I like getting to know people and in that sense I am a people watcher. Through others I really better understand myself. That and I have the inherent desire to make others happy…well, most others.

I can’t decide whether I am a being of logic or a being of emotion. Honestly I seek to unify both. Raw emotion, or Eros as the Greeks would call it, is that drive to live life. It is that fiery fervency deep inside a soul to fulfill a hunger begat simply by existing. I love and embrace my emotions deeply and use them as a root locus for my actions. Logic, on the other hand, I feel is a clear and precise method to controlling, understanding, justifying, and manifesting Eros. When I call this relationship to mind I visualize two of myself. Both of me have one eye either covered or torn out. Standing tall in the back is Logic. He is trimmed, clean, and cold. In his hand are two chains held taught down to the other of me. This is Eros. Obviously this version of me is very primal, feral, and unkempt. The chains are attached to large hooks looped through the palms of Eros. The hooks act as restraints, but also as weapons. When Eros and Logic work together the chains go slack and pull through the palms of Eros. Those chains of restraint become weapons for Eros. Okay, enough with this tangent.

I’ve mentioned a couple of times the Greek terminology and ideas. Indeed, I have Greek blood in me, but that really doesn’t mean anything to me. Despite what many religions have said before me, I refuse to believe that the sins of a father are passed on to the son. Likewise, the greatness of the father does not pass to the son at all. The goodness or badness of one person does not transfer genetically or intrinsically into that person’s offspring. All humanity, I think, is formatively learned. Education is the cornerstone for Parentalism and the development of every single human being. There is no difference in my mind between a parent and a teacher. When sins and greatness are passed on is in that learning. Even then, it does not manifest in the soul of a child until the moment he or she decides to actually use it. So yes I am Greek…in spirit. I am no more Greek than my best friend, my father, or Aristotle himself.

Everyone has different passions and driving forces in life. For me passion itself is my passion. The things which manifest that drive and wonder in people consume me for both good and bad. Art, or as the Greeks say ‘Techne’ is the centerpiece in my obsessive study. Techne is present in all things and actions – not just what we consider art today [Poetry, Music, Photography, Drawing, and so on]. I see it in technology, discussion, exercise, sex, war, religion, and politics. For those purposes I love movies. Movies unite so many mediums of Techne and for me have been some of the most moving and powerful things I have experienced. But I love as easily as I hate. I hate the Techne which begets that formative drive of evil and destruction. The two biggies are Politics and Religion.

On the former, I try to consider myself central with inklings for the left [at least by the American political standard]. I like the goals of the right; however I much more prefer leftist methodologies. Take abortion for example. I don’t like it very much or advise it, yet I could never end the edifice outright. I do think that a single cell is a human life. I do not deny the fact that that single cell needs the mother to survive, but that need of a caregiver never once goes away until the day that human life dies. The baby needs the mother just as much as the single cell, just in very different ways. And yes, I do acknowledge the importance of the impact and role of the Mother’s body. However that begets two points of contention. First is that all of the women who have argued “It is my body!” to me have all defended abortion on the basis of a girl made a mistake and got pregnant. My response is “Excuse me; you want me to appreciate the importance of the power of the woman’s body to do this? Okay, yes, but the girl didn’t appreciate the power of her own body when she got pregnant, huh? And now she appreciates the power of her body because she is using it as a sword to get her way.” Sex and procreation are things to be respected, understood, and controlled. Now I do feel that there are certain strata by which one has the right to abort [i.e. rape, deformity in the baby, et cetra]. Note please how I said “…THE RIGHT TO…” - that does not mean SHOULD. Such conditions are to be decided on an individual basis hinged on the circumstances of the child and BOTH COMMITTED PARENTS. Yes, both parents. I feel the father has a certain say in it too.

The above explanation glazes over a shit ton of details and ideas. Please, by all means, ask me for more elaboration.

The latter I am going to try to keep brief. Religion to me is formative and divine. I believe there is a higher power, yes. I come from a Catholic Backdrop, but I am very humanistic. I believe that God manifests to man in many ways and in many forms. I do not condemn those who don’t believe in God, or anyone who thinks differently than I. As with any art, I see the Techne of some divinity present in the natural world. If God exists, he/she existed before and independent of any bible/faith and can be discovered in the natural world. Furthermore I believe out of the fact that I want to. We have no way of knowing if God is real or not despite what anyone says short of the interaction of divine providence. I am a better person because I believe in God, and if in the end there is no God then it wouldn’t matter anyway.

So…wow…what next? As the title indicates, I smoke. I don’t smoke like regular smokers, though. I waste my money and health on Indonesian import Cigarettes with the spice Clove mixed in with the tobacco. I don’t want to or plan to smoke forever, but I have a very addictive personality. I am not strong enough on my own to fully quit. I am and have been cutting back [or at least trying], but smoking is really a replacement habit. I started shortly after a bad breakup last September as a means to replace the emotional and physical attention I had. There is no defending the habit in any way. I am less of a person for it. In this case it is an impediment I can’t overcome on my own. I use it as a proxy to fill the hole of a life partner and I don’t really think I can stop until I really find a new one. To the benefit of the act it has calmed my nerves and made me much less bitter and angry and hateful. I would rather smoke honestly than find a rebound lover. By smoking I am only hurting myself and not anyone else.

Love is very important to me. It is another one of my driving forces because to me love is the perfect harmony of Eros and Logic. This goes against the norm of just attraction. No, love is a development and growth process. Otherwise love erodes into just lust or obsession.

Aristotle said that “He who is unable to live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god.” I am neither, so I think I should close this little piece with noting a few of the most formative people in my life.

My mother and father – Both have had very different impacts on my life, but in the same method. They have given me a foundational wisdom of myself and the world around me. Both have taught me how to live and how not to live.

My brother Timothy – He is my brother not in Blood, but in spirit. That runs much deeper. He is a brilliant man with a great soul and kind heart. I owe most of who I am now to him. He has always been there to challenge me and help me grow in my own way, and the least I can do for him is offer everything he has impacted in me back unto him – and he has impacted every single part of who I am.

Mr. Juguilon and all of my other teachers – Again, my growth and who I am is nothing without these fine men and women I have been so lucky to have even met, let alone learn from. Through them I am the forever student.

Phillipa – There is no good way to do justice to her. She is my ex, and she has left a gigantic impact on my life for both good and bad. In this I will give her credit for the good, but I cannot understate that the hand that types out her praises is also the hand that wants to strangle her. I can’t say whether it is Tim or Phillipa who has revealed more to me about myself, but that should say volumes about her because I’ve known her for less than a third of the time I have known Tim. To date the happiest times in my life were spent with her. She is a wonderful person in so many ways, and I owe her greatly for it. I don’t really think she’ll be reading this, but if she ever does I want her to know I owe her a million kind words – words in a language only she and I understand. I say this on the romantic interim between Valentine’s day and our Anniversary. If she ever wants to hear them, I will tell her sans my anger, unlike how I’ve failed miserably in the past.

Back on track, I got out everything I wanted to say about myself. If I feel later on to add more, I will, but this piece will do for now.

Another Attempt at Commitment

Sun, 16 Dec 2007 06:39:29 GMT

I think somewhere deep down I have always known that I am not a Journalist. I am just a writer. In the more Greco-Roman sense a poet. I tell stories. That is not to say Journalists don’t tell stories, but the implications and framework of what they do is different from the traditional fiction writer. If I have any discernable talent at talking about my own opinions it comes from a mindset of narration and the mechanics of first person storytelling.

No person who cares to read this page doesn’t already have the mans to communicate with me directly, which I find much more satisfying than this method of idea transfer. That and there are people out there whom I would rather not inform on the happenings of my life. The end of this year brought a lot of death in my social and emotional circles. I have for the most part managed to trick myself that these people are dead. They are dead to me. To allow people whom I vehemently wish to remain dead to connect with me and disillusion me to their aliveness only makes me want to rectify them back to the nonliving status.

It is not like all this explanation matters, as nobody reads this page anyway. It’s not like that is a depressing fact. I do my best not to be depressed. Depression, like all emotions, is self feeding. I much greatly prefer anger, as it motivates people to do things. I digress, I am rambling. More for myself as a clear record as to why I have no committed WebLog, I post this. The people who actually want to hear what I have to say know how to. It is not hard, and I am very willing to say it, dead or alive. I just don’t feel the need to post it.

Damn the Torpedoes!

Philosophy by the End of a Lit Cigarette

Another Attempt at Commitment