October 3, 2017
“To understand an age or a nation, we must understand its philosophy, and to understand its philosophy we must ourselves be in some degree philosophers. There is here a reciprocal causation: the circumstances of men's lives do much to determine their philosophy, but, conversely, their philosophy does much to determine their circumstances.” (Russell, History of Western Philosophy: Introduction)
Dear Bertrand,
In New York, on Friday night, a famous rock star was crushed by his own plummeting stage props. The props were gigantic handguns; fiberglass symbols of violence. I laughed at the time, because Marilyn Manson’s non-fatal pratfall seemed poetic. It was almost as if a Divine Being was trying to be heard, and the Divine Being chose to be as blunt and cliché as possible, “Hey, Dummies! The idolatry of violence begets real head-banging violence! Thunk.”
Then, on Sunday night, concert-goers were slaughtered by a single man who sat atop a mountain of automatic weapons. At least 50 people were killed and 400 wounded...by one man. It seems that you’re correct, Bertrand: reciprocal causation is a thing. Circumstance dictates philosophy and philosophy dictates circumstance. This sick person went off into the nihilistic deep end, and he never returned. I imagine that his thoughts twisted ever darker, but he remained just rational enough to strategize for the highest body count possible. He too, was a thinking man, of sorts. And, his evil was an extension of my laughing at stage performers who get smashed by their own idiotic props.
In this, I’m not saying that I, or Marilyn Manson, have a direct responsibility for that damned lunatic in Las Vegas, but rather that we, you, me, the collective, are entertained by hatred. In accepting violence as exciting and entertaining, preferable to the boredom of love and kindness, we not only create a capitalist demand for violence, we also allow certain things to be plausible, no longer unthinkable. Our fixations spread like pollen and become conceptions. Our toxic thoughts extend on a scorpion’s tail in the back of the mind, dangling dangerously unchecked by our languorous virtue and vigilance.
Today, I read a passage from The Red Badge of Courage to my high school freshmen. It was on the syllabus, on the schedule long before the violence of the week had transpired. Despite Crane’s lackluster writing, the horror of the Civil War was plain enough. We read three pages, and I couldn’t go on. I felt sick. I hate this loop. One of my students lost a relative last week; his uncle was randomly gunned down. I was informed of this in the middle of giving an exam and I burst out in tears in front of my students. I. Hate. This. Loop. My 6th graders were literally shaking from fear in homeroom on Monday morning having heard about the Las Vegas news on the radio because of an insensitive bus driver. I hate this loop.
A noose is turning on the curve between philosophy and circumstance in America. To remain still as it tightens is to accept a ridiculous cliché as one’s own destiny. There has got to be a way to free ourselves from it.
On my home page, I try to periodically chip away at Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy. This often comes in the form of a quotation and a personal reaction most often holding aesthetics in mind. This may, or may not be interesting. I too, am waiting to find out.
“To understand an age or a nation, we must understand its philosophy, and to understand its philosophy we must ourselves be in some degree philosophers. There is here a reciprocal causation: the circumstances of men's lives do much to determine their philosophy, but, conversely, their philosophy does much to determine their circumstances.” (Russell, History of Western Philosophy: Introduction)
Dear Bertrand,
In New York, on Friday night, a famous rock star was crushed by his own plummeting stage props. The props were gigantic handguns; fiberglass symbols of violence. I laughed at the time, because Marilyn Manson’s non-fatal pratfall seemed poetic. It was almost as if a Divine Being was trying to be heard, and the Divine Being chose to be as blunt and cliché as possible, “Hey, Dummies! The idolatry of violence begets real head-banging violence! Thunk.”
Then, on Sunday night, concert-goers were slaughtered by a single man who sat atop a mountain of automatic weapons. At least 50 people were killed and 400 wounded...by one man. It seems that you’re correct, Bertrand: reciprocal causation is a thing. Circumstance dictates philosophy and philosophy dictates circumstance. This sick person went off into the nihilistic deep end, and he never returned. I imagine that his thoughts twisted ever darker, but he remained just rational enough to strategize for the highest body count possible. He too, was a thinking man, of sorts. And, his evil was an extension of my laughing at stage performers who get smashed by their own idiotic props.
In this, I’m not saying that I, or Marilyn Manson, have a direct responsibility for that damned lunatic in Las Vegas, but rather that we, you, me, the collective, are entertained by hatred. In accepting violence as exciting and entertaining, preferable to the boredom of love and kindness, we not only create a capitalist demand for violence, we also allow certain things to be plausible, no longer unthinkable. Our fixations spread like pollen and become conceptions. Our toxic thoughts extend on a scorpion’s tail in the back of the mind, dangling dangerously unchecked by our languorous virtue and vigilance.
Today, I read a passage from The Red Badge of Courage to my high school freshmen. It was on the syllabus, on the schedule long before the violence of the week had transpired. Despite Crane’s lackluster writing, the horror of the Civil War was plain enough. We read three pages, and I couldn’t go on. I felt sick. I hate this loop. One of my students lost a relative last week; his uncle was randomly gunned down. I was informed of this in the middle of giving an exam and I burst out in tears in front of my students. I. Hate. This. Loop. My 6th graders were literally shaking from fear in homeroom on Monday morning having heard about the Las Vegas news on the radio because of an insensitive bus driver. I hate this loop.
A noose is turning on the curve between philosophy and circumstance in America. To remain still as it tightens is to accept a ridiculous cliché as one’s own destiny. There has got to be a way to free ourselves from it.
On my home page, I try to periodically chip away at Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy. This often comes in the form of a quotation and a personal reaction most often holding aesthetics in mind. This may, or may not be interesting. I too, am waiting to find out.
Permeable Vision 2016
