Aesthetics

The old Roman saying went “there is no questioning taste”. Even if we hate what someone else likes, even if we think it is evil, it remains true that that person enjoys it. So aesthetics is an almost impossible ideal on which to base society, or even an activity like art .

Of course, within any subculture or social group, argument is possible. Religions thrive on it – the ultimate form of an aesthetic outlet is probably deep faith. Less life-changing agreements – as in art criticism – are all around us. Fashion, food, morality, even life purpose. What looks good to us? What constitutes a masterpiece ?

Unfortunately, an extremely finely tuned aesthetic sense in anything usually brings problems. The least is an individual obsession, the worst is mob madness. Fine art is littered with the judgments of serious critics which have aged into silly constipated irrelevance .

I found that I must spend effort – before making an aesthetic judgment _ to understand the context. “A beautiful tree” might mean almost anything depending on where your mind is coming from. Are you painting a picture or evaluating lumber possibilities?

Realizing that – and understanding that most aesthetics are careful and often valid in one way or another may be one of the necessary conditions of wisdom .

Hegel Madness

The philosopher Hegel proposed that knowledge advances in a series of intertwined opposites. A “thesis” was declared, an “antithesis” developed and the combined “synthesis” was closer to “truth”. It’s a comforting thought in these times of polarized political and social dynamics .

But there are problems with this cozy illusion .

With evidence-based observation it is pretty quickly determined which is more right. To state that “iron is hard” is not negated nor modified by spouting “iron is soft”. Even if true under certain conditions such as high heat, soft iron is not what most of us encounter most of the time. No synthesis possible .

Then there is the problem of balance. A bucket of boiling water poured into a bucket of ice water might synthesize to a nice bathtub temperature. But a thimbleful of boiling water into a bucket of ice water will hardly modify it .

Finally – and most important for social views – are we even talking about the same thing? A bucket of boiling oil added to a bucket of ice water will do nothing but give us a horrible mess, mostly separated, but with foul water and useless oil.

I’ve never much appreciated pure philosophers. My mind has been fully corrupted by science. Theorize, test, modify.

Philosophers remain active in all areas we cannot test, such as meaning, future and the many instances when consciousness and life are just too complicated. But I never trust their ideas – not thesis, nor antithesis, nor synthesis .

Drunken Boat

Rimbaud wrote a famous poem called “The Drunken Boat”. Sometimes I feel I am aboard. The world spins by madly and unpredictably, the guide has drowned, the oarsman has gone overboard. I’m not sure where I’m going, have never seen this place, all is mist and rapids and whirlpools and churning danger .

All around me. Yet here I sit, dry and terrified, the last occupant of the vessel. We might crash or overturn any second but – not yet. Nothing I can do about it. Staying aboard is folly, jumping overboard is worse .

So what should I do? Stay calm? Have another glass of wine? Admire the sky and cliffs and spray? Panic when panic is useless? Appreciate the adventure? Hope? Pray? Review my life ?

Ah, anyway, right now an awful lot seems like that voyage. Everything is spinning and changing and even the experts are blind. Plenty of soothsayers, of course, but I don’t really trust any of them. Economy, society, family, self – argggh!

And yet – I sit in the dry spinning boat. Writing calmly, reading about the world, enjoying quotidian routines, delighting in the local. Perhaps – but only perhaps – that is the only sane reaction .

Inheritance

Children are strongly molded during childhood. Families try to make them fit into society, society encourages them to do so responsibly, then tries to further shape them to (or break the mold if it is bad) as a child grows to adulthood .

All well and good. Childhoods are as varied as families, and within reason that is probably healthy for the culture. “Within reason”, especially with regard to wealth and opportunity, is usually the sticking point. The basic dynamics are pretty clear. For children to celebrate their family background is normal and healthy, as is – sometimes – loathing it. As adults we know the importance of our early influences. We can be proud, or dismayed, can continue the connections or break them .

What I never understood was believing that one’s parents’ deeds counted as worth for any individual. Much less so those of grandparents and beyond. We now have a wave of folks who put on the mantle of ancestors and claim they deserve its status .

Beyond a few generations we are all one pool, genetically and culturally. I do not care if your genes somehow connect to Genghis Khan, Lucrezia Borgia, or Sitting Bull. You alone are responsible for you today. You have no right to claim special treatment because of what presumed ancestors did (even if most of that was simply arriving here before others) .

It’s a stupid, lazy, sloppy, and destructive arrogance, understandable in these times of identity crisis, but helpful to no one and nothing .

Ostrich

Perhaps there is something useful in the apocryphal legend of the ostrich sticking its head in the sand to avoid seeing trouble. In these expansive times, ignoring obscure and distant threats may be an evolutionary advantage .

After all, in the “big picture” we are all doomed, both personally and in our wider manifestations of society and cosmos. We stand on our tiny patch of desert scrub, and perhaps stay there or run a short distance to somewhere nearby. We ignore our inevitable death, or we would fail to function at all .

So in a time when horizons have become nearly infinite and imaginations run wild, maybe a head underground is not so stupid. We are aware of every sparrow that falls in the world, and we can do little or nothing about it. There is too much awareness, omniscience without omnipotence, and that may poison our souls .

Nobody can withdraw completely. Even that pretend ostrich has to come up for food and water. There is still at least a little truth to “think globally, act locally”. But maybe only a little .

In a hysterical interconnected age, too much awareness might be a very dangerous thing to any single individual. It surely is to my own sanity .

A Little Knowledge

“A little knowledge is a dangerous thing”. You think you are an expert, but you are not. A very easy trap to fall into, since we tend to overestimate ourselves .

Obviously this is hardly a new condition, but it has certainly been more and more aggravated by media and global electronic connections. We are “aware” of an awful lot of stuff. Unfortunately, that awareness is often shallow, scattered, wrong and only leads to worry about things over which we have no influence. And about which we may have entirely inappropriate background information and deep understanding .

At one time, we left most issues to “experts”. They might have been right or wrong, but it took our minds off such things and – since we rarely are directly impacted by distant stuff – did no harm. But now the internet is flooded with “facts”, stories, and anecdotes that falsely claim to deepen our knowledge about anything and make experts irrelevant .

As we believe we know it all, each of our worries becomes somehow more real and our own responsibility. We MUST do something. We must change things. We think we are fully aware.

We are wrong. About most of the vast ineffable universe of things, individuals, and society we each know very little except what we directly encounter and we often misinterpret that. The only

true cure is a bit more humility .

Expected

People are almost infinitely socially adaptable. Almost any condition can be tolerated. We happily navigate through societies where everyone is honest, nobody is honest, haggling is required, bribes are necessary, and even when contacts with certain ideas or groups are prohibited .

Over time, we can adjust, of course. If formerly honest people turn dishonest and so on. But we feel somewhat secure as long as the rules remain more or less as expected. And security, often more than wealth, is what a lot of us desire most. Know what will happen if we do certain things.

Dystopias, such as depicted in “1984”, are often nightmares because expectations constantly shatter. “Interesting times” when the world goes topsy-turvy are rarely happy. When we don’t know if the police are going to save us or destroy us. Even tiny things in our life like whether a food will make us sick or not .

Civilization right now has an odd combination of solid old traditions – meeting expectations – and completely new challenges making every plan fragile. It’s probably not a lot different than living through plague times in an ancient wealthy city .

What never helps is when authority itself becomes irrationally chaotic, so that each day presents new laws and declarations making the old laws obsolete or themselves illegal.

Even when change is what is expected, we may worry nervously .

Abundance

Not that long ago, it was assumed that “India could never feed itself”. The “population bomb” would kill us all in malthusian cataclysm. Popular psychology decided that humans always want more than they have .

At least in many places, industrial “abundance” has arrived, and gives every indication of continuing and providing more – ignoring for the moment Black Swan catastrophic events – as automation and technology continue to increase .

What does an era of “abundance” mean? Surely some people are already satiated with food, clothing, shelter and even ”non-essential” stuff like status and entertainment. Their feeling of being “poor” is essentially only a comparison to others of whom they are envious. An outlook that could easily change with cultural shift .

The wealthy, of course, play games and insist that enough is never enough, as they feast on peacock tongues and build mountains of pseudo gold to awe their peers. The wealthy also want to be superior, and spend much time worrying that the poor can no longer be kept in their place. Food, clothing, shelter – my God who will ever work? Lazy bums !

I won’t live long enough to see it play out, but an abundant future, should it arrive, would certainly be interesting .

Progress

We cherish an ideal of progress. “Practice makes perfect”. The human world obviously runs on learned accomplishment. It does not matter if you are an athlete, a mathematician, or a parent. There’s always something to learn, some way to improve .

My art hobby has reached a point when it has stalled. At least in the sense of progressing to something better. Partly it’s a matter of accepting limitations. More truly, it’s a realization that choosing among various and often contradictory goals is not easy .

I don’t, for example, wish to become more realistic like a camera. Don’t want to head into absolute abstraction. Don’t want to be like any other style. Don’t actually want much of an audience .

I’ve settled for a realization that progress in this is, for me, a blending of the journey with the goal. I’m gratified to wake up enthused, to not be intimidated by a blank page, to not be discouraged if something does not work out. Like my walks, art activity is simply fun, meditative, instructive, and inspiring .

Long ago when I grew up many ordinary activities were like that. Sports, community, home, family, even work. Not improvement ad infinitum, little progress, just a happy sense of doing well and taking advantage of each moment .

Big Eyes

“Your eyes are bigger than your stomach” is an admonition to would-be gluttons surveying a feast. Maybe children eyeing mounds of candy, maybe revelers drinking champagne, maybe elder vacationers at a cruise ship buffet .

The implication is that short-term hedonism and overindulgence will lead to eventual pain and misery. All of us know that this is true in daily life, although unfortunately it is quite easy to ignore common sense .

Ultra-powerful magnates now suffer the same illness. They believe they can do anything of which they conceive. And no matter what visions their eyes view at the moment, their imagination conjures more. More. Bigger, longer, stronger. Candy without end .

I suspect indigestion will follow. Unfortunately, the ultra-powerful can affect us all. The present may be lean as they gobble their resources, but it is entirely possible civilization could collapse in the aftermath .

Most of those industrial paragons are macho males. One wonders if they ever had mothers who warned them about their “big eyes”. Too bad .

They are having their monstrous feast. The rest of us can only fretfully wait for the inevitable outcomes, and the nasty cleanups to follow .