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Thursday, October 29, 2009, 12:15 PM
LAST THOUGHTS OF JESUS
October 28 2009 - Damascus
What were the last thoughts of Jesus Christ as he was crucified?
Did he not doubt God when he uttered those famous words: "My God! My God! Why hast thou forsaken me?"
It sounds plain and clear: the cry of a tortured human being who is asking why has his God, or Father, left him to suffer in this unimaginably excruciatingly painful manner?
Why didn't God save him from this hour's long torture?
Did Jesus forget his Mission?
Momentarily, yes he did, for he was after all, human.
Who wouldn't in such circumstances?
The sheer agony of his throbbing torment must have clouded his mind and in effect forced him to momentarily question what the point was in his suffering.
Now, it seems that he did recover his certainty, for the last words uttered by Jesus on earth were: "Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit."
In other words I trust in thee, I trust the words of My Father, God.
Interestingly enough, notice that when those unnamed bandits spoke to Jesus saying: "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself, and us." while the second bandit said: "Jesus remember me when you come to your throne." Jesus did not reply to the first bandit. He did not say to him that he can or that he cannot 'save' him or save himself from the crucifixion - he chose only to answer the second bandit by saying: "I tell you this: today you shall be with me in Paradise."
In other words, Jesus felt that perhaps there was no more time left to explain yet again, as to why he did not 'save' himself and the bandit from this torture: that it was God's will for this truth and this scene to be so enacted out in the end.
Or perhaps Jesus thought what was the point in repeating what he had already spoken a thousand times before?
Jesus did forgive those who plotted to butcher him in such a dramatically lethal manner, for a man who not only did not commit one crime, but who was the essence of justice, peace, humanity and love.
What emotional and profound mental power he needed to create in his mind the feeling of 'forgiveness' unto those who are in the very act of slaughtering you!
It is, once more, simply unimaginable to our everyday human brains to comprehend how any mind can produce such a feeling in these awful circumstances.
And yet, I think, there must have been within the welter of thoughts of Jesus, a feeling that it must be good to finally die, for his life had been nothing but an anguished existence.
I say this, for didn't Jesus finally refuse to talk or respond anymore to the hypocrisy and evil of society when he refused to engage in any dialogue with Pilate? The latter asked him: "Are you the king of the Jews?" to which Jesus replied: "The words are yours."
All Jesus had to do was to deny the accusation that he had been preaching to people proclaiming himself to be the 'King of the Jews'. Instead, Jesus refused to deny or confirm this accusation that could well have spared him his very life.
Why did he refuse to deny the pathetic accusation?
I feel that Jesus wanted to end his Mission - as God had so wished - then and there and that is why he no longer bothered to interact with Pilate or anyone else for that matter.
This is an important theme: for there comes a moment in time when Jesus felt that enough of the oppression; enough of the hypocrisy, lies, deceptions and that he had enough of the sheer vile, evil of Man and human beings and Mankind and all of the so-called 'Humanity'.
He had reached a sublime moment in his mind, in his existence on this lowly earth when he no longer cared for this dreadful life and when he finally yearned to return to Paradise as he did promise the second bandit.
There was no need to preach the Good Word anymore. There was no need for his majestic presence. There was no need for any more of his acts of love and compassion to the poor, the sick, the blind, the crippled, the sad, the mentally sick and to all the rest of humanity.
What an overpowering, intensely painful moment that must have been when Jesus felt that his presence was no longer necessary!
Indeed, such thoughts are utterly painful for any person. It is the most overwhelming type of Farewell that anyone can do: in our humble language and life, we can translate it as when a person finally decides to withdraw from public life.
Pilate insisted that there was no reason whatsoever for Jesus to be crucified, and ultimately murdered.
But the crowds, maddened by their rage, insisted again and again with their demand that this utterly noble soul be tortured and killed.
Pilate squirmed with a way to release Jesus unharmed.
Finally, he thought he could succeed by appeasing the mob:
"Why, what has he done? I have not found him guilty of any capital offence. I will therefore let him off with a flogging."
And of course they refused this suggestion!
"Crucify him! Crucify him!" they screamed.
And throughout this sorrowful scenery, Jesus stood there, quiet and refusing to utter one word in his defence.
For me, the momentous time had arrived quite clearly.
It was time for Jesus to deliver his spirit back unto God and yes he would willingly offer his body like the proverbial lamb to the slaughterhouse.
Actually lambs, cows and sheep do not get tortured for hours on a crucifix as they are slaughtered.
For, in truth, the butchering of Jesus was far worse than for any animal.
And so, as Jesus must surely have gazed at the panorama in front of him at Golgotha, or the 'Place of a Skull' and thought that there before him lay what was called 'Humanity', those that he was sent to 'save' from their sickening sins, perhaps he thought: For them I have suffered throughout by life. For the likes of these people I must die a most horrible death.
So I was sent to heal these people who have mocked me, humiliated me, flogged me, stoned me, and ultimately I am before people who have deliberately acted to butcher my flesh and my soul.
I was sent to heal those who were my disciples and who so did betray me with the ultimate act of love and tenderness - the kiss.
I was sent to heal those who were my disciples and who so easily denied me.
I was sent to heal humanity - a humanity that did not even turn up at my death, except for a handful few before my feet.
So much for you humanity.
Do not weep for me, for you - you people out there who did not stand up for me and who denied me and who did not even come to the final act of my death - it is you who shall now weep and suffer within the rest of your lives.
"Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; no, weep for yourselves and your children."
Is this then what Humanity is?
Saturday, October 24, 2009, 12:17 PM
PORTRAIT OF LIFE
Let us understand what surfaces in front of our personal lives - routinification of the procedures in our existence wether we are rich or poor. You are witnessing an increasing familiarity with life's daily events. So feel the feeling of a sudden realization that this, then, is your life after all.
Marriages become routine, friends become average, novelty vanishes, save as a cherished secret and a personal memory for each one of us.
And the evening dinner seems to occur senselessly, as your heart records the dull conversations, discovering a passionate nothingness in this absurd play. No meaning, no chronology, no progress, no maturing, no deepening of people's relationships, precisely because there never existed a sensible script in this theatre between idiots.
And the housewife in an ugly apartment existing and knowing herself to be a full-blown tragic cliché. Her yearnings can now safely be said to be seriously crushed and repressed as she stares at the scenery drab that surrounds her life. The shopping routine, the dull jobs she undertakes, the imprisonment of her wildness, her true nature that so wishes to serenade itself in a wilderness exotic and yet still humane.
And the street children with no hopes, with pain driving away all common sense; some aiming for university whilst living within the grime of this welter of sorrow, violence and poverty - few remain standing interested in the vague notions of the importance of getting a 'BA' degree. Homes cramped, dirty streets, drugs are the local currency, survival is a desperate game, yet in their feigning lack of interest in their plight, there is cast that angry grin, the violent stab for a mere penny.
And the prostitute, hungry, abused, raped - discovers she can make more capital through the quick sale of her last possession than in other more respectable jobs. This frontline job, this frontline existence staggers the caring people, for the prostitutes all over are the desperate of the desperate ones, reduced to enacting 'pleasure', yet experiencing torture; reduced to smiling and laughing, yet feeling the severest hurt.
And the rich ones. Discovers they have amassed much capital. They have attained the objectives of the capitalist economic philosophy. What, then, do you now feel? What do you feel as the game ends for you? For you all stand alone on your own.
And the old one. Fearful of being accused 'senile' should they ever express a statement the young may not understand. Fearful of being banished to the pleasant concentration camps, ignored and left to exist with other strangers who merely happen to be there due to the fact that they are of similar ages.
For what is life now for, old man?
What was the culminating point?
Leper colonies turned you to geriatrics' colonies unseen, unheard, unloved and physically neglected. And loneliness is really wearying you down now, as your only pet companion is that rusty television box. Is this your society that you told me you applauded for? Is this life what you define as being 'moral', 'civilized'?
And the extravagant ones.
Buying the unnecessary, speaking hollow, dining in the places of ill repute, wearing clothes for labels. Extravagant creatures, your lives seem so glamorous, and the whole sad world desires to Xerox your lives, and the most they'll achieve is the trashy copies the poor emulate in their dreams. For you, you extravagant ones, for flower arrangements, you will spend a thousand dollars. Naught remains or is retained by you with respect to proportion and thus your values and morals and attitudes decay into stench, yet the mass media paints you in the most vividly beautiful colours; and we all know the convincing power of the communications network culture - or lack thereof.
Strange to say, but in any street scene, all these people can be found in one street, walking past one another, conversing with one another, and so their lives continue in their routine.
Look at the people around you and what do you see?
What do you conclude about life?
Humans are becoming increasingly isolated from their own desires and feelings. Knowledge is increasingly becoming fast products produced by the media, no different than any other commodity that needs to be sold as quickly as possible. Knowledge is an endangered creature for most people have no need of it, save what concerns their job - and most jobs need one knowledge, the knowledge of profit-maximization. And fun will be manufactured by others - you will have fun in the plastic cities, and the plastic entertainers; to sell, people must be 'happy' and so, make them 'happy' in a short interval as possible, and as soon as you get your revenue, the show is over, and await the next crowd.
Beneath all this, you go home and having laughed and grinned and eaten junk food and perhaps you will discover that you are completely damaged by this Culture of Stupidity, for incessant stupidity is plainly damaging to the intellect and damaging to one's serenity.
When you return from work, when you return from years of your particular life, what do you then feel? Cheated - and what makes it so hard to accept, is being cheated by the sellers of plastic fun in a plastic comedy and plastic food?
What is this 'life' we're living?
And for the sake of Christ, who will respond to our yearnings?
What is this Culture of Stupidity pouring all over us?
What is this Culture of Irrelevance, as the detailed irrelevance is being taught to us all our school days?
And what is this openly Culture of Violence where glory and self esteem are only achieved by a gunshot, a fist fight, or targeting a person of a different race for a brutal beating? Where women are simply seen as punching bags, battered, shouted at, pushed physically and mocked twenty four hours a day.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009, 11:57 AM
LONELY AND BORED LIVES
Who will comfort the lonely in their houses desperate and quiet? Who will awaken the numb and unfeeling? Who will speak to the sorrowful?
The burdens of this world reek in weight and substance for corruption hateful and evil - ties all the oppressed ones in their grief strangling.
The sick in beds forgotten, in alleys abandoned where underpaid nurses sweat pain and breathe exhaustion, looking at the suffering ones where number of beds are decreasing.
The aimless wandering youth in the big cities where hospitality was never a truth. Welcome to your world - youth of the cities, abandoned by all sensible authorities, drifting in your frustrations of all shades and colours and intensities.
Floating in between the concrete cold and humans robotic at heart; the values of ethics are scattered while the depression enwraps your lifestyles hopeless.
Your elected government has deserted you.
Friendships have deserted you.
You are alone in this meaningless existence.
You exist to work, for work is the main burden of your time, while the benefits of work are pitiful and worthless.
What is your life routine?
How routine is your lifestyle?
Do you count the days you are sorrowful, the days you felt an emptiness?
You are becoming outsiders in your own countries. You are all becoming strangers to one another. Technology will increasingly be your most loyal companion that is useful and beneficial. Technology will soothe your pain and not humans - for the relevance of humans in our unfolding history is declining. The relevance of humanity is diminishing as institutions and bureaucracies and stock markets and corporations assume greater importance in your existence.
Lonelier and lonelier, denied your needs, repressed beyond belief and relief, the individuals are being crucified en masse. The individual is being stripped of his individuality. The individual is being denied meaning and identity.
The individual is becoming a breathing statistic.
The individual is becoming more and more repressed. The lives of people are becoming increasingly alike, as are the mentalities.
The human is dying - dying mentally. The human is dying from the repetitative boredom. The human is dying mentally from the routinization of life's processes and procedures.
All around you and all within yourself, human beings are crumbling and crashing within, as passionate creatures with dreams and needs and desires and hopes and ambitions personal wither silently.
The structure of our lives are killing us, leaving us with no ability to be human, leaving us unable to exploit our hidden and unexpected needs and desires personal. The structures and institutions and social rules of our world are stifling our yearnings, they are strangling our innermost secrets we treasure so lovingly. The structures of our lives are numbing our sense of balance and our sense of proportion and our sense of morality and ethics.
People crying daily and no one feels. People needing drugs to survive the ghastliness of a day's necessities. People restraining their explosive boredom, while people simply cannot enjoy their miserable and dull jobs.
And where the feeling ones?
Scattered and themselves mired in questions troubling indeed.
Television is the best friend.
Humans have less and less to speak of, for humans think less and less of society's structures. Humans are, in fact, bored in essence with themselves; for they do not have anything to think of, so they revert back to the bland entertainment that seals their yawns.
Humans fear themselves, fear what they could be and they fear the present truth of their utter boredom with themselves.
Monday, October 19, 2009, 1:09 AM
How can I hear you, then
If all the Tears
You speak of
Sunday, October 18, 2009, 9:10 AM
DOES EVIL EXIST?
October 18, 2009 - Damascus
What is evil?
Any one can say that murder, theft and such like behaviour would be considered evil.
"But why? Why should murder be evil?" a murderer casually asks me.
Because you are talking the life of someone who has in no way done anything against you.
"So what?" he responds, "why is talking out life to be defined as evil?"
Because destroying life is evil. Well, we're going in circles here aren't we?
"Look, you define murder as evil, but I do not define it as evil" and so speaks the murderer.
Well, the fact is, the vast majority of normal human beings feel nothing but revulsion in what you have done. That feeling of utter disgust is ultimately defined as 'evil'. Do you now follow?
"Well, what do you know! The 'vast majority' of people are not geniuses and so geniuses are therefore not 'normal'. So what the 'majority' thinks in and believes in and feels in means nothing of any importance to me. Then you speak of 'revulsion' at what I did, but that is because you were taught since you were young that murder is evil. You're just reacting to what your society taught you. "
Fine, so maybe murder is repugnant because this is what our society taught us all along?
But, wait a minute!
How come that every society and every civilisation has taught its people that murder is wrong? Doesn't that fact tell us that murder must be inherently and intrinsically evil?
"No, not really," replies this calm man, "what that undeniable fact does tell us, is that a vast majority of humans do not like committing murder. It is also an undeniable fact, that the vast majority of people cannot watch surgery being done in front of their eyes. That doesn't mean surgery is bad or evil."
This 'majority' idea isn't getting me anywhere. Just because a majority of human beings find something to be repulsive does not mean that we can equate that abhorrent thing with it being evil.
"You see evil is a Man-made construct. Your societies, your civilisations and your cultures created it so there wouldn't be chaos in your lives. Imagine if everyone was killing everyone else! But with murder being classified as evil, and with the law acting as a deterrent, then most cautious people will avoid it. That leaves the minority of people who ignore that construction - and ignore the law!"
Yes, that has truth in it.
I mean, were it not for the law, prisons, police, one's reputation and all these factors, how many people will, at some point in their lives, commit murder?
"You cannot prove to me that murder is evil!" he thundered.
How do I 'prove' murder is evil?
Wait a minute now.
How do I prove that evil exists in the first place?
Forget murder, what about evil itself?
Isn't mass murder evil? Or rape? Or pedophilia?
Surely that makes common sense!
But I know what that man in front of me will say. I'm getting used to his version of logic: all these acts are only evil and repugnant to myself because my society has taught me so, and thus, in a way, my society has simply brainwashed my mind into believing these ideas.
"Classifying murder as evil is, however necessary," continued the murderer.
"Because, otherwise, as I said, you will have chaos. Evil is a necessary construction that Man has come up with in order to control society. That is why the concept of evil was created."
That's true. Fine, so evil is a necessary Man-made construct.
Killing is evil because you are taking the life of someone who has done nothing against you and that makes it a very selfish act. And you'll hurt a lot of people because the murdered person will have people who loved him.
"Oh good grief," sighs the murderer, "all these words are Man-made, artificial constructs - like 'selfish' and 'hurt'. I do not buy any of these idiotic, fake concepts. Don't you understand me? Why do you simply believe in these concepts in the first place?"
All right, so you are being an anarchist here where no rules need apply?
He's right. And I still haven't proved the existence of evil...
After much thought and after many days and nights, I was forced - yes, forced - to believe in another approach to this question and this time, I would not need the presence of the murderer at all.
I felt that I needed to bring God into the equation and thereby I would solve this conundrum.
The existence of God means evil does exist since God specifically spoke about it and forbade us from ever being evil. God created morality and, were it not for God, there would indeed be no morality and no good and no evil, just as the murderer believes the truth of reality to be.
I say that no one can 'prove' the existence of concepts like morality, evil, good and so on without believing in God.
You can argue till you turn blue in the face, and you will still never be able to prove the existence of abstract concepts - and even if you did miraculously prove that evil did exist, then how on earth are you going to convince me for the need to obey the 'rules' that tell us not to commit evil?
That has been my conclusion. And that is why I told you in the last part that I will not need the presence of the murderer in order to prove the existence of evil; because a murderer, by definition, is way beyond an understand of these towering concepts that are as lofty as the Heavens.
Saturday, October 17, 2009, 12:25 PM
WORDS OF A LONELY MIND - LIVING IN A CAGE
September 2009 - Damascus
I have been living now for nineteen years.
I know that I am not what you people out there would call 'normal'.
These are your classifications - not mine. But there you have it, and there's not a lot I can do anything about these labels, especially when it comes to the label you and your society has forced upon me.
I look at people, I hear their conversations, I watch their interactions, their gestures and yet - I do not understand anything.
I see you all laughing and frowning - but I don't understand why you all do these things.
It is so complicated because to you, laughing means funny, while frowning means you are showing your displeasure. But, to me, things are not so neat and clear cut, because so many times I see the exact opposites occurring. So, for example, I see people frowning when they are being happy, whilst, I see people laughing and yet they are being angry. So, how do you and I resolve such a mess?
Listen to me. I see a mother playing with her 5 or 7 year old girl. The girl responds to mother's playing and, not unnaturally, the little one laughs and thoroughly enjoys playing this game with mom.
Suddenly, mom decided to quit the game. The child does not understand that the 'game' is now over and finished and so he continues to play the same game.
The mother suddenly erupts with rage and screams at her daughter to cease playing "this stupid game, or else, you know very well what I will do to you!"
The child regresses into fear.
The mother continues with her threats and screams:
"Listen, girl, I no longer have the time for you now. If you do not stop, I will drink from your blood."
The girl imbibes this violent and irrational behaviour and ultimately will act it out upon other children and maybe upon her own unfortunate children.
That girl I am talking to you about is me. I was that kid.
My parents were the sweetest humans to their relatives and neighbours and friends.
But to me, they treated me like I was Satan himself.
They smoked endlessly and given the fact that our flat was small, I lived everyday by inhaling the 3 packs of cigarettes my mother smoked plus the 4 packs of cigarettes my father smoked. And that was everyday, as I tried to tell you.
My parents could only think on how to steal from other people. Thieving to them was natural. Prayer and thieving are surely incompatible?
With disgust, I would see mother putting on her Hijab because she always told me that that was a necessary indication of the piousness of Man. But how hypocritical can you be?! You pray and observe all the religious laws and decrees and then you go ahead and steal and commit other repulsive acts?
Anyway, there was never any point in talking to my family because they were far too retarded in their perverted thinking.
They, of course, had a mixture of emotions for me. Disgust was one of them. Incomprehension was another. In other words, they said that they could never understand me. Another emotion they had for me was pity - they thought that I was semi-retarded. And at other times they had nothing but rage against me.
Yes, that was when I needed to protect myself - mind you, not that I could do much protecting myself. What could I do against their kicks, punches, slaps and clenched fists? Buy a gun? Yes, I thought of that because I thought, at times, that by killing them, I would finally be freed from their repulsive clutches.
But, then again, if I did act out my fantasies, your society would then call me a 'murderer' and I would end up living in another hell hole called prison.
I would simply change one prison for another prison.
So I found it so much easier me to look at you all, all of you people out there, while I remained more or less passive and silent as death.
I was living in a cage and, like any exotic animal in a cage, I would be observed by your society because humans found me to be so particularly 'strange' or 'unusual' in my behaviour - and well, guess what? I too was glaring right back at you all, observing your strange, unusual and sickening behaviour.
Why was I seen as being strange? Because I did not really interact with society. I did not talk with people. I did not smile or laugh at jokes I heard. I did not act curious. To people, that made me an odd ball, didn't it!
At university, when I was eating in the cafeteria, I did just that - eat my frugal meal. No conversations, winks, glances, flirting or anything else. Why was I like that?
Because people bored to me death, that's why.
Now that's a pretty straight forward answer I'm giving you, no? You ought to be proud of me!
You ask me, "Are all people boring to me?" Well, to be honest, pretty much yes. I mean, sometimes I would hear someone being interesting and then you come across the same person a few days later, and to my surprise, that same person is nothing but a pile of yawns for me!
What I learned in school meant nothing to me. All I vividly remember are the silly number of boring books, boring teachers and the hours and hours of memorizing useless facts, numbers and God knows what else.
It was a tragic waste of resources. That was school for me. It really does make you hate academia, and that, I learned is a really terrible price to pay as the consequence of boredom in school.
Boredom killed any interest in academia!
Yes, I graduated but I was glad to see the end of school. I never did look back.
Still, at least I got a degree, and that document opens some doors for you.
I got a job as a secretary for some company. I could hardly care what the company actually did. Strange, you say? Why do you think so? Why should I be even remotely interested in what the company did? I mean it is not exactly like I had any role to play in the governance of that company! No, I was just the 'answer the phone lady' and the 'serve tea lady'.
Actually, it was just a relief getting away from home and my hateful family. Anything was better than being anywhere near to them. You cannot imagine how much I despised my family! Everything about them made me sick to the stomach.
Even their accents made me sick. The vulgar way they spoke is enough to make you run away. Never mind the dirty language that peppered their language, for these sad creatures were linguistically incapable of stringing along more than three or four words without needing to revert back to using the foulest vocabulary.
Look, I'll be straight with you, because I myself often did ask myself this question again and again: what were these dogs living for?
Were they existing in order to get in verbal fights? Or were they living in order to express their endless profanities? Or was the purpose of their lives to physically harm each other? I found that that question was not so easy for me to answer, because I couldn't understand why God above would allow dogs like that live in the first place?
Eventually, with time and experience, I understood their reason for existing: they existed because they loved to wallow in depravities. Depraved behaviour was the fundamental and essential life sustaining nutrition in their lives. They were addicted to profanity, vices of all types, prostitution, gambling, going to whore houses, stealing, lying, preying on weaker individuals, boasting and pretending to be dignified (which was, in itself, laughably absurd!), rich, powerful and influential.
Saturday, October 17, 2009, 6:13 AM
WHEN IS MURDER NOT 'MURDER'?
For some people, life can be black and white - for example, you're either dead or alive; you're either pregnant or you are not; you either pulled the trigger or you didn't. There are no in betweens here.
But, are they correct?
Can black be white? Of course not. These are opposites, and by definition, that means they cannot ever be the same.
Can murder be 'not' murder?
Well, actually, yes murder can be murder and not murder at the same time - in our world. How can that be?
Let's go back to what happened on the evening of July 18, 1969 at Chappaquiddick, and we'll see how murder can be not murder.
On that summer night, Senator Edward Kennedy of Massachusetts was driving Ms. Mary Jo Kopechne when his car accidently drove into the waters of Chappaquiddick Island, Massachusetts.
He managed to get out of the car, and swam ashore, leaving Ms. Kopechne struggling and drowning in the car. She later died.
Mr. Kennedy decided to walk back to his hotel room.
He did not call for any help for Ms. Kopechne.
Later Mr. Kennedy said: "I had not given up hope all night long that, by some miracle, Mary Jo would have escaped from that car."
The next morning, Kennedy was talking casually to guests in the hotel - as if nothing had happened. He had not informed anyone at the party from the night before, of what had happened. He did make several phone calls, but he did not call for any rescue teams to help Ms. Kopechne.
On July 25th, court proceedings took place, and Judge Boyle decided to acquit Kennedy, even though Kennedy was found to be guilty of causing an accident and leaving the victims behind.
On November 3, 1970 elections were held for the US Senate, and Ted Kennedy won by a 62% majority. By 1979, he felt confident enough to challenge US President Jimmy Carter for the Democratic nomination for the 1980 presidential election.
Kennedy would get re-elected not only in 1970, but also in 1976, 1982, 1988, 1994, 2000 and 2006. It would be pointless to point out how many awards and honours Kennedy has received over the years; but let it be said, that America sees him as a champion of the liberal ideology.
Now as Ted Kennedy is in his final years, when he dies he will be honoured and hailed as a great statesman with the whole political establishment in mourning.
The obvious question is this: did Kennedy 'murder' Mary Jo?
That all depends on your emotions, feelings, politics and an endless number of elements that makes up your mind.
Can we call the act of leaving any human being, when they happen to be in an upside down car leaving them to drown in a pond to be an act of murder? What do you call a person who does not make any effort to help or rescue that drowning person?
Shameful indifference or, lethal neglect?
They are different concepts!
Was it foolish behaviour? Yes, it was. Was he drunk? Probably, but no tests were taken from his blood, because he did not report the accident in the first place. Did he sober up after the accident? We don't know, but we do know that he was speaking in a coherent manner with two of his close friends that night and early next morning. He could have called emergency and rescue authorities. He chose not to.
Maybe because it had to do with the fact that his last name was a Kennedy, while the forsaken drowning victim's last name was a mere Kopechne. Perhaps he thought that the Kennedy family with all of its powerful political and judicial ties especially in Massachusetts would be able to hush up the whole sordid affair and let the poor, young man continue with his presidential dreams? Why allow ourselves to let a silly non-event like the event of the death of Mary Jo impede, in any way, the far more serious issue of seeing Ted Kennedy try to be President of the United States?
Maybe we can say that Ted Kennedy's life and career was just far too important to allow the Chappaquiddick affair to cease it, when history would surely have demanded that that man goes ahead to see if he gets to be the second Kennedy to be President of the United States?
So murder can exist with being a 'state of murder', but at the same time, that same murder can still be regarded as 'not being murder' by the elites and the nation. The two can go hand in hand.
Opposites can exist as being the exact same in our world of uncertainty, dysfunctionality and imprecision.
What you may regard as being murder, can be seen by millions of other people as not being murder. For that truth, you must get used to!
Saturday, October 17, 2009, 6:11 AM
RENDEZVOUZ WITH DEATH
To the many needing comfort, needing advice, needing passions sincere, to whom do they turn to? To whom can they turn to? The days unmask the increasing emptiness between all of us, and the need for revolt is always there. The urge to be solitary as a reflection of one's disgust with the hollowness of human beings, is always an attraction for some. The urge to speak one's mind to all people, to shatter the idiotic niceties and protocol that separates all of us and represses our genuine needs and desires and ardent wishes in life, is always an attraction for some. The need to transcend the humdrum of our lives daily is there, and yet we feel that somehow little can be truthfully done. That is such a prevalent feeling - that as an individual I can do very little to change my life, so one submits to apathy wearying.
The society of individuals increasingly down cast and alone while at the same time people may increase their social contacts - but, there are no positive results to be gained therefrom, for the 'human' is crumbling as a sovereign entity into frightened fragments, self-doubt and confusion. Ask yourselves, what is the net emotional result of all your socialising? For when the certain hour arrives and you witness that accusatory feeling of 'What have I done?' your horrifying reply will be that you have done nothing to fulfil your needs and desires and passions. The hour does ask you: 'What do you feel at the end of it all?' and your emotions search vainly for meaning and fulfilment, for in essence there never existed any meaning and fulfilment in your lives in the first place.
Your life style, your socialising has merely succeeded to varying degrees and extents in covering up your real needs and desires. Thus, in essence, you are merely ignoring, avoiding and repressing your true feelings; the 'successful' day is when you do not feel the urge to express your needs; in other words you have successfully been able to distract yourself from your real self.
However, ones innate needs and desires return to haunt us because they are our essence existentially. Repression of one's needs and desires and hopes results in disastrous consequences of the self. We are not being true to our selves. We are masks, we are afraid of ourselves because if we were to face ourselves, then that would entail changing our lifestyles and our frame of mind.
The humans around you are not 'real'. They are not what they are pretending to be. The humans around you are living in sorrow hidden by niceties and good manners and protocol and a million other worthless distraction. The humans around you are losing their humanity, their creativity, their needs and passions while they go about the routines of their various lives predictable.
Man is dying in himself, willingly wistfully to accept his/her resignation from life; echoes of Seeger's poem, 'Rendezvous' can hardly be ignored:
'But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town
When spring trips north again this year
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.'
Saturday, October 17, 2009, 6:07 AM
DEATH OF MAN
For many the turbulence of life are inexplicable and profoundly frustrating our faith in goodwill. What is the essence of personal meaning in a world where human relations are becoming increasingly fragile? What is the meaning of this world when only one in a thousand will succeed in his lifestyle? And what of the majority others left stranded by forces that apparently none can escape from? What is the meaning of this world where millions upon millions are forced to work in underpaid tiring jobs? While the extravagances of wealth are accepted, tolerated, applauded and esteemed, where does that leave the rest of humanity?
The twists of hypocrisy numb and stagger, while our changing moods react to this world of ours. We watch pontificating and condescending authorities speak of facts and visions bearing little relevance that are in any way significant to the average soul.
We listen to the oft-repeated clichés people employ as language has become script for so many a pre-recorded programme with little room given for free thought. Conversations of blandness, set-piece questions and answers and people 'exchange' ideas and thoughts on set pre-defined topics.
The turbulence of life are numerous and dense. The sad quality of human nature renders much of our need for meaning and fulfilment a useless quest. The chaotic nature of the human mind renders our hopes and desires resting on fragile ground. For dependence on humans to satisfy our needs is a risky adventure, precisely because most humans are themselves lost with no identities and suffering a severe sense of one's security.
In truth, we are alone. Alone as any planet, for though you may be part of a constellation of 'friends' and 'family', and though you may be part of a grand interconnected web of interests and lifestyles and motives, you are still, in essence, alone as any revolving planet is.
In this vast universe where the uncertainty principle dominates, you exist in isolation with no adequate means of knowing your security of your journey's path.
This truth, in turn, grinds down upon your hearts as we walk our daily lives here there. The heavy truth is that we are all alone and that the caring ones are fast decreasing in numbers. Our world is being divided between the cruel ones and the frightened ones, whilst the brave, heroic ones are dying out, and an increasingly lame society and an increasingly brainless culture, renders it more and more difficult to continue enacting out that heroic role.
The Age of Quantum is the Age of Uncertainty!
The destruction of the self due to its gradual erosion and fragmentation. United personalities are being hacked away by the effects of a profoundly idiotic 'culture'. These poisonous gazes that culture spits out creates a decoherent, paralyzed sense of meaning to our daily lives.
It is far more comfortable to exist numbly rather than to exist with a thinking mind, because the latter frightens us, given the ugly truths of our reality. For to reflect upon one's condition is to divulge the secrets of who we are all trying to repress and hide. The hidden secrets of our hearts that would awaken our eyes to the sordid spectacle of human nature afloat everywhere are not so easily to bear, even though the hidden secrets of our hearts we all can know of - if we desired to seek.
For in truth, the real vision of human nature is far too exceedingly ugly to behold!
Yet your persevering repression breeds chaos and greater fragility. Repression creates rage and an increasing sense of being lost in one's own life. All creatures, great and small, the rich and famous, the hungry ones and the beggars, the middle class workers and the destitute unemployed ones all share one common grief: the sense of a lack of personal fulfilment for one's vital existential needs.
So what is this life teaching us? What is this life conveying to our impressions? As the days pass by, the years and experiences being remembered, what calculations do you create and what results do you deduce therefrom?
The different sceneries you witness, the deep conversations you have had and the experiences you have been through, what essences do you infer therefrom? For in the final analysis, do we not all have a personal ideology for fine tuning our attitudes and lives in a positive and fulfilling direction?
And what of those afflicted with a terminal illness? What greater paradox can there be in life? How can we equate the authoritative, pontificating steadfast words of some, when for some others extinction is a near certainty and thus making their brief lives so utterly wretched?
Paradoxes of life!
The soldier killed at the dawn of war and the soldier killed in the final hour of the war. The prisoner of war who is summarily chained to an enforced loneliness and a casual sentence of frightful solitude and brutality for an unspecified time. What explanations do we offer ourselves when we try to understand the words and meanings of the puzzles of life?
The delicate nature of all souls in their routine lives saddens us. The quick discovery that life's offerings are bland and predictable.
The architecture of loneliness; the architecture of gloom; the architecture of mass-produced, cheap, drab houses surround our bewildered visions: these are our home towns; these are our cities - this is where our solitude comes from. The extremely ugly row of houses, the high-rise gray buildings, the dull corner shop, the bleak streets are common sceneries we all witness and experience hourly. This, then, is the architecture in which we are to live our entire lives?
Well, I say there can be no proper, decent and healthy living in these repugnant circumstances. We can only repress our emerging grief and our daily dying and our hourly saddened sighs - if we choose to tune to ourselves. The repeated ugliness of the towns and cities destroys joy, creativity and our remaining hopes.
The morally empty lives we live. The fundamentally directionless lives we live. This is indeed destitution for rich and poor alike, for this lifestyle we are living through creates a crassness within our minds.
This is the ongoing decline of 'culture' that I am speaking of, and this is the exact same decline that every ancient civilisation once underwent, leading to their ultimate extinction.
This is our age of the decline and the deadness of our souls.
And as we surrender our sense of the self and joy to the opium, mass produced high-tech rubbish, nonsensical 'culture', so too do we lose our own minds.
The murder of Man is now abstract and no longer necessarily bloody: for it doesn't really need to be bloody at all.
The destruction of the human race can and is being carried out far more efficiently by the greatest propaganda machine that has ever been created: the junk mass media culture of entertainment, hype, stupidities, fast services, bumper sticker intelligence, plasticity of tears and the deliberate ignoring of our noble feelings and emotions.
Saturday, October 17, 2009, 6:04 AM
A STUDY OF SOMEONE YOU KNOW
July 9 2009
Ayad Izzet Gharbawi
My eyes open, and as usual, I don't feel like getting up. I'm still sleepy, feeling lazy and bored to do anything. But I've got to get up, because I have something called work. And work gets my rent paid and gives me food to stay alive.
So, these are serious enough reasons, I think, to go to work, and that means that I've got to get out of bed.
I think of what clothes to put on.
Does this match with this? Is this too formal? Is this too casual? Is this piece in mode, or out of mode? Did I wear this yesterday - can't be seen wearing the same piece of clothing two days in a row!? What will people think of me wearing this piece? Anyway, I realize time is moving on, so I've got to do something I quite dislike: making a decision. And so I do decide, and I wear something that inevitably I am not 100% sure is perfect.
I take the bus to go to work.
Everyone does their best not to look at anyone else. It's one of those unique situations where society tells you that you are simply not allowed to look at anyone else - except for children. Other examples, include the humble elevator, being in any doctor or office waiting room. And, of course, it is kind of hard not to look at anyone because we humans were created by God to be a little bit curious, so, despite what are hallowed society taught us, it does go against our God-given instincts not to look at anyone else. So, like everyone else I guess, I must restrain my eyeballs from not looking at anyone else.
But then again, what do you do when someone next to you happens to smell awful? What do you do when someone is staring at you? Well, I myself, just try to ignore them. What else can I do?
All right, so now I'm at work and guess what? That's right, work is awful. Why is my work awful? Well, first and foremost, because my boss makes it his passionate lifelong ambition to make all of our lives as difficult as humanly conceivable. Secondly, the nature of my job itself is boring and what can I do about that fact? Third, my wages are a joke, with pay increases that are symbolic. So, how do I sum up my time at work: a mixture of sheer mental stress and hours of boredom.
All right, I leave work and I call my friends so we can meet at some cafe.
Time for acting! We meet at the cafe, pretend we are not looking at anyone else and ask for the menu, even though we've been to this cafe ten million times before, and even though the cafe really serves you nothing more than coffee and other basic drinks. And then, when the waiter comes and produces his profound question that he must deliver, 'What would you like to have?' we pretend that we are still thinking about the question and searching for an answer. The waiter feels his job is 'important' because we sad customers have to 'think' about what to order. We then blandly order a coffee, some diet cokes and 7-Ups. The waiter proudly leaves us to give the handwritten order to the chef, or should I say to the Giver of Drinks employee.
Next, we all of a sudden grab our mobile phones and look to see if anyone called us. No one called me - how dreadfully embarrassing. I keep on looking at my mobile, moving my fingers, pretending as if someone called me and trying to pretend to be 'busy' with my mobile. What does that mean? I'm obviously trying to give the impression that I am so well loved by so many people that I need sometime to 'answer' all the people who are interested in me. But, as I say, no one actually called me. Yes, I'm disappointed, but I am not exactly surprised. I do know how many people I know (or how little a number of people I know) - but that is a secret number that no one tells to anyone, otherwise, people will brand you as a total loser.
Finally, after the mobile phase, we produce a conversation.
Any conversation. Quality does not count here.
"So, how've you been?"
"Haven't seen you for a long time; have you been away?"
"My day was so stressful."
"Did you see that piece of clothing I bought?"
"Have you seen the latest mobile?"
"Did you see how person 'A' behaved last night? Wasn't that disgraceful?"
And so on.
Yes, these are the subjects we talk about and if you want to be 'socially successful', you must pretend to be interested in the subject matter, even though, in truth, you are struggling with your jaw muscles in order not to yawn.
Because, if you yawn, that means you're telling your supposed 'friend' that they are boring the life out of you, and that means the worst consequences will fall upon you. And what are those fearful consequences? That person you just happened to yawn in his face will not invite you again and will choose not to socialise with you. He has socially ostracized you, and in our civilisation, if enough people cut you off, then you become a social outcast and that is the worst condition to be in.
And you can't blame him! I mean, you just yawned in front of his face and in front of your other 'friends'. In other words, you've sent your message to everyone on your table, and anyone else in the cafe who may be watching that poor person 'A' is an anaesthetic and, as I say, in civilised society, calling anyone 'boring to the point of being unable not to yawn' is the worst offense conceivable.
So, the pointless, bland conversations go on. You smoke becomes your friends smoke. When your friends laugh, you better laugh. Never mind that you are drifting in and out of the tedious conversations. Never mind that you are finding it hard to continually concentrate on what your friends are saying. As I say, do what they do; just copy them and no one will notice that your mind isn't really with at all.
You must be part of the crowd' - you don't want to be left out!
We pretend that we need to keep our hair in good shape. We must again look at our mobiles, even though no one has called.
Our proud waiter now returns with a degree of friendliness that is unwarranted. He serves your drinks. Now everyone drinks and makes sure they do not spill drops of their drink on their clothes, because that's another taboo our beloved civilisation told us is absolutely forbidden.
Time for the bill. The waiter brings it and now the same scene is repeated every time a waiter brings a bill to any table: everyone sitting pretends that they are really desperate to pay for everyone else. What a farce! Of course, no one wants to pay the hated bill, but, as I said, this was a time for acting. Finally, someone pays, because if you overdo the pretending that everyone wants to pay, then you can all look like serious idiots.
So you go home. Your parents annoy you, just as your brothers and sisters and God knows who else may be at your home. Someone inevitably asks you:
"So, where've you been all night?"
I answer: "I've been where I'm supposed to be."
They: "You don't decide 'where you're supposed to be'; we decide where you're supposed to be. So what's the answer?"
And so it goes on.
I look at some books, and I get bored. I look at some magazines, and soon, I get bored too. Television is boring. The food is unappetising.
My God, what is the matter with me?!
Is there something 'wrong' with me?
After all, how can it be that everything and everyone and every situation I find myself in, is wrong, annoying, superficial, insincere and boring?
Maybe I am the one who is basically all wrong and messed up?
Who knows the answer anyway? The answers to the vexing questions of life are simply nowhere to be found as far as I am concerned.
My parents never guided me, nor was anyone a guiding hand for me.
All my life, I was left to find the paths of decency and morality and choice of career all on my own.
That's laughable! Who has enough brain cells these days to advise you on anything?
Oh God, maybe I'm being arrogant again.
I just don't know.