Author: Wayne Slingluff

Modesty

This is no age to celebrate modesty. Everyone wants to show off, to prove that they have “arrived” and that they are (at least in some way or another) better than anyone else .

An example is houses, where the idea that “a person’s home is their castle” has been raised to extremes which would astonish Louis XIV. More than that, it is a constant striving for even more. Renovations are re-renovated; massive chateaus are “flipped” .

I don’t mind all that. People have a right to enjoy what they want (although I sometimes do worry about effects on the environment). Whatever makes them happy. Beautiful, tacky, stupendously ugly – joy in the eye of the beholder (usually the one paying the bills).

I draw the line at being required to appreciate private marvels. Public works – yes something done for the community can deserve applause. But miserly accretions perched on a hill? Marvelous rooms hidden away? No. The screams of need from plutocrats wanting affirmation of their taste leave me cold .

Modesty serves no purpose in this society. You’ll never get anywhere by smelling a rose rather than posting massive floral arrangements on social media. 

Probably only I consider that a tragedy .

Fear

Fear or its equivalent is instinctually hardwired into most animals. A deer may not experience “fear” as we know it, but certain perceptions of sight, sound, or smell will provoke a flight response. Humans seem to inherit the whole range of abilities to be afraid of various things and provide actions to avoid or deal with issues .

A problem is that our overactive brains can invent many things to fear. Some are real – will that approaching car hit us? Some are imaginary – does that creaking tree contain a malignant ghost? It is useless to talk about rationality, because all fear is only probability, and my mind can manipulate anything to appear rational (at least to me) .

“Paralyzed by fear” is a real thing, often transmuted to “enervated by fear”. Today there are such fears everywhere, focused by attention-grabbing media or sales provocateurs. If we listened to them all, we’d never leave the house. We’d be deeply worried all the time anyway .

I think the greater danger is that all the minor trivial fears desensitize us to real problems. We have to learn to ignore so much that we cannot recognize something we really should do something about .

Like that deer caught in the headlights, we never react to the sound of the rifle being cocked. Our entire civilization is now paralyzed by the onslaught of the internet .

Dance

I courted my wife under false pretenses. At the time I met her, I was heavily involved – for the only time in my life – with a dance group in Cambridge Massachusetts. Mid ’70s, lots of young energy trying to change the world. I went to many events, helped with the light show and administration .

I enjoyed the times, but it was only for a few years. I’m not graceful and have no sense of rhythm. I can’t learn dance steps because I hate being told what to do. So after we were married _ no more dancing except once in a while at weddings and such .

Joan, on the other hand, is a natural. She starts to move unconsciously when she hears music. She loves to get out and sway. She has many fond memories of all the early times she spent in high school, college, and beyond with groups of friends at parties and bars .

Partly, I write this to know that people often turn out to be different than we expect. But the core takeaway may be that dance even for that short time was good for me. I ended a better person for the experience. I wish Donald and Elon would do more of it. 

Dance puts a different perspective on things. Less intellectual, more physical, less meditative, more immersed .

Oh well, at least I got well rewarded.

Appreciating Stuff

“Imagination is funny” goes an old song “it can make cloudy days sunny …”  For the more intellectual, we have Milton’s ” “mind can make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven.” True thoughts .

But they hardly apply to declared modern aesthetics. It is no longer appreciation that is the key to happiness, but pure quantity. A lot of anything (even misery _ read the books!) is what winning in life is all about .

Those “ancient” notions about valuing things applied to times in which folks did not have a lot to count. Oh, there was the moon and the scent of roses, but also disease and hunger. Masses of people could not accumulate mountains of stuff .

According to media and politics, the only concern of modern Americans is how many dollars they think they have, how new their houses look, how many shallow experiences they can brag about. Not a moon gaze or rose sniff in the bunch .

I suspect most people are more appreciative in their private lives. Unfortunately, none of that translates to public exposure. Appreciation is the road to ruin. Our shallow philosophies and politics reflect that .

Whatever happened to “cups running over ?”

Sex, Drugs, and Golden Old

Wealthy scions who are taking over our country are well trained in the ways of technology, finance, and getting what they want. These paragons know nothing about the rest of society or history, and think all other people are just plug-in employees to be used like any other tool (when useful and inexpensive) and discarded when they wear out. Of course, their own daddy’s old days were perfection.

I think of them as the rich “frat boys” I always hated. They believe rules are made for lesser folks. The “brothers” can drink and carouse without limit. They talk the talk, walk the walk, and hire each other on the “merit” of being alike, and having the same background, and knowing the right people. Grudgingly, they may admit nouveau riche to their closed club room .

Currently, their goal is to enshrine a 19th century capitalistic corporate mentality into government. This requires a strong authoritarian CEO who is only removed by actions of the “board” _ meaning them. Citizens are either consumers (who can like it or lump it) or employees (who are simply another inert productive input.) If they could, they’d fire everyone when times get rough .

It’s sad. We’ve seen such fanaticism before in Europe in the guise of socialism, in China in the guise of communism, in South America in the guise of superman magic fables. 

Ah, but the dream of capitalistic government must surely be different .

Consolations of Continuity

Boethius wrote his enduring classic Consolations of Philosophy after he had been condemned to death by his Roman emperor. A sad story, we think, but with a smug twinge of admiration at his accomplishment at a difficult time.  

Like the rest of us, Boethius was mortal. Like the rest of us, condemned to death sooner or later. For us elders, of course, it’s sooner. We may have less time to do anything then Boethius. We may have far less chance of producing anything significant. He was after all in the literate elite of Rome – a tiny fraction of a powerful population. We inhabit a world of 8 billion, all of them equally literate (or illiterate) on social media .

I suspect from all the chatter, few classics will emerge, let alone endure for thousands of years .

So my attempts in the face of fate have been reduced to revisiting my life, producing a stream of continuity – in words and artifacts, memories and conversations and even hidden thoughts. Directed at me. A consolation, if only for an hour, or late at night. Recall of a thread of being, meaningful in spite of its cosmic insignificance .

A philosophy? I guess. At this point, I’m happy to discover and utilize anything that increases my enchantment with existence. A busy pen, a happy mind .