It is interesting how much we take at face value.
ie: small talk (hypothetical)
"How have you been?"
"Been good, thanks for asking." ---(when really, been really really really shit. tried to slice open my wrist, horizontallyverticallycrisscrossstarmoonspiral, with a bread knife. But didn't work. Figures. then had butter on toast, with the same bread knife.)
"How was your weekend?"
"Was great, thanks." ---(was incredibly repetitive, nothing much happened)
and yet so much which we do not take at face value, vexes us, in inordinate amounts.
Much of the time, when i read a report or watch the news, i question the validity, the encompassing information that is presented, the way it is presented, what is left missing.
I wonder at what is left missing, the books I read, the stories that are told me, the events recounted, the sad little secrets that are dispensed in quiet tones and lidded looks.
What has been edited, filtered, selected and then rearranged, cut and paste and seamlessly realigned. Often human emotion, stress, fear, anger, hurt wreaks havoc in these things, the seams crack open-- alot less seamless and perfect that we would like things to appear.
We maintain facades, impressions, we pay so much attention to how we may come across to others, and yet at the same time constantly question and moralise our actions and reasonings. And then direct that very same behaviour towards others.
Appearances:
I think in more simplistic representations, we see this in the behaviour of girls. The application of makeup, gym, diets, the skim-everything and 97-99% fatfree foods, the nail polish and monthly subscription fashion magazines who seem to host a bevy of know-it-all-women who have it made (fashion, sex, glamour, money). There was a title of a book which particularly appealed to me: "Paint, and the Art of War". There is a certain invulnerability, defense and protection as we layer these literal layers on of appearance, preparing to enter 'war'. The processes of living, of claiming, of gaining and achieving goals: be it in love, career, friends, attention...etc.
I guess for men, there are the parallel similarities, but in opposing ways. The protein shakes, the gym, the accumulation of muscle, size and bulk. The need for performance and success, in drinking, money, sex and women. I deliberately miss out on the criteria of 'love' here, as opposed to the criteria for the apparently successful woman. There seems to be this need for the appearance of masculinity, of physical and emotional invulnerability. The lack of dependence, especially the lack of attachment to women, their girlfriends/mothers. I've known guys who would relax and be almost child-like affectionate when away from the scrutiny of their 'pals', other male company. Who have very very human-like fears such as the fear of loss, abandonment, ostracism, the fear of being seen as a failure as opposed to the fear of failure. And then the defenses and the components of the social facade is slammed back in place when back in the company of others, seamlessly in place, practised and adept. Artfully rearranged, and the awareness of having done so, is fleeting, or never even registered. It is only to the observer, that such a difference can be seen.
We place so much import on appearances. On how we may appear to others in society, our community, family, friends, work mates. So much so, I question how much we do is to conform to the expectations of others, such that everyone operates under the same rules unconsciously, that everyone is pandering to everyone and nothing really ever gets done. Ingenuity, passion, ideals, dreams are lost and forever inaccessible, as we lose the capacity, the perception and the abilities to enforce and sustain such things in reality. The greatest tragedy...is when we get so caught up in life, in the passing of time and we think, they think, others...that we never notice this quiet, strangled dying. Apathy, indifference, selective reception of information become the norm, the taste of everything is dulled but secure and the same.
Cynicism. is the hallmark in the death of the idealist.
We die a little each time, we make a compromise on our morals, our ethics, ideals...the little deaths that are deviously appear as transparent, that give us a false sense of control, that it is OK and we can always catch up, or fix it up later.
So much tragedy has occurred to pander to the expectations of others, actions have been carried out simply because they think so, they think it is WRONG. This anonymous, ambiguous but univeral collective of THEY. Honour killings, suicides between motherfatherbrothersisterfamilyfriendssociety, dispelling the bonds and history and memory of love, kinship, common humanity...in the name of what is thought to be RIGHT? Religion and tradition has often be the source of this contention, of this strife and tragedy.
It becomes this loop.
what is wrong, right, moral, immoral, who is to say so. who has right of way, and why, through brute force, more knowledge, more money, more experience, the majority?
the question has been asked many, many times before.
the answer, the discourses, the topics, spectrum of ideas and contexts are infinite...and so infinitely incomplete.
ie: small talk (hypothetical)
"How have you been?"
"Been good, thanks for asking." ---(when really, been really really really shit. tried to slice open my wrist, horizontallyverticallycrisscrossstarmoonspiral, with a bread knife. But didn't work. Figures. then had butter on toast, with the same bread knife.)
"How was your weekend?"
"Was great, thanks." ---(was incredibly repetitive, nothing much happened)
and yet so much which we do not take at face value, vexes us, in inordinate amounts.
Much of the time, when i read a report or watch the news, i question the validity, the encompassing information that is presented, the way it is presented, what is left missing.
I wonder at what is left missing, the books I read, the stories that are told me, the events recounted, the sad little secrets that are dispensed in quiet tones and lidded looks.
What has been edited, filtered, selected and then rearranged, cut and paste and seamlessly realigned. Often human emotion, stress, fear, anger, hurt wreaks havoc in these things, the seams crack open-- alot less seamless and perfect that we would like things to appear.
We maintain facades, impressions, we pay so much attention to how we may come across to others, and yet at the same time constantly question and moralise our actions and reasonings. And then direct that very same behaviour towards others.
Appearances:
I think in more simplistic representations, we see this in the behaviour of girls. The application of makeup, gym, diets, the skim-everything and 97-99% fatfree foods, the nail polish and monthly subscription fashion magazines who seem to host a bevy of know-it-all-women who have it made (fashion, sex, glamour, money). There was a title of a book which particularly appealed to me: "Paint, and the Art of War". There is a certain invulnerability, defense and protection as we layer these literal layers on of appearance, preparing to enter 'war'. The processes of living, of claiming, of gaining and achieving goals: be it in love, career, friends, attention...etc.
I guess for men, there are the parallel similarities, but in opposing ways. The protein shakes, the gym, the accumulation of muscle, size and bulk. The need for performance and success, in drinking, money, sex and women. I deliberately miss out on the criteria of 'love' here, as opposed to the criteria for the apparently successful woman. There seems to be this need for the appearance of masculinity, of physical and emotional invulnerability. The lack of dependence, especially the lack of attachment to women, their girlfriends/mothers. I've known guys who would relax and be almost child-like affectionate when away from the scrutiny of their 'pals', other male company. Who have very very human-like fears such as the fear of loss, abandonment, ostracism, the fear of being seen as a failure as opposed to the fear of failure. And then the defenses and the components of the social facade is slammed back in place when back in the company of others, seamlessly in place, practised and adept. Artfully rearranged, and the awareness of having done so, is fleeting, or never even registered. It is only to the observer, that such a difference can be seen.
We place so much import on appearances. On how we may appear to others in society, our community, family, friends, work mates. So much so, I question how much we do is to conform to the expectations of others, such that everyone operates under the same rules unconsciously, that everyone is pandering to everyone and nothing really ever gets done. Ingenuity, passion, ideals, dreams are lost and forever inaccessible, as we lose the capacity, the perception and the abilities to enforce and sustain such things in reality. The greatest tragedy...is when we get so caught up in life, in the passing of time and we think, they think, others...that we never notice this quiet, strangled dying. Apathy, indifference, selective reception of information become the norm, the taste of everything is dulled but secure and the same.
Cynicism. is the hallmark in the death of the idealist.
We die a little each time, we make a compromise on our morals, our ethics, ideals...the little deaths that are deviously appear as transparent, that give us a false sense of control, that it is OK and we can always catch up, or fix it up later.
So much tragedy has occurred to pander to the expectations of others, actions have been carried out simply because they think so, they think it is WRONG. This anonymous, ambiguous but univeral collective of THEY. Honour killings, suicides between motherfatherbrothersisterfamilyfriendssociety, dispelling the bonds and history and memory of love, kinship, common humanity...in the name of what is thought to be RIGHT? Religion and tradition has often be the source of this contention, of this strife and tragedy.
It becomes this loop.
what is wrong, right, moral, immoral, who is to say so. who has right of way, and why, through brute force, more knowledge, more money, more experience, the majority?
the question has been asked many, many times before.
the answer, the discourses, the topics, spectrum of ideas and contexts are infinite...and so infinitely incomplete.
2 comments:
A great post. Very dense writing, I have to read very carefully. Deserves a longer response, later.
I will raise one initial objection though...cynicism as the death of the idealist. I've had that experience, of cynicism arising as certain ideals have died. But then the cynicism has faded, only to reappear later. Is that the comings and goings of idealism, or is something else the cause?
Permission to link to your blog?
Cynicism may be the death of the idealist, but it may also be the suppression, or an adjustment of the idealist. You can give up trying to see the world as a perfect place, or trying to make it that way. It may sound hypocritical, but little things can still be done around you to make people smile, learn something or feel better about themselves, while still maintaining your cynicism towards the world, its leaders, or its population in general.
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