| not fit in with the concepts that they were brought up with. I'm sure they rarely think, really. Anything not found first by the self is so easily torn apart by the weapons of the cynic. There is nothing cynicism cannot attack: even other peoples' cynicism can be dismissed as pretentious and unecessary complication. The ego rules: this is what we think, and we're never changing, because anyhting that could have made us change is now worthless, in the eyes of the cynic. It is pride, something that humans have had for centuries, who's defeat at the hands of truth was once hailed as a truly enlightening and positive event, because it acknowledged ideas above the self. Now, because the only things we have to couch ideas have been devalued, ideas no longer have the power to defeat the pride, and the pride wins. For example, take Shakespeare: "To be, or not to be: that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die; to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep? perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes calmity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns The patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?" How ordinary. How Cliche. How boring. Everybody says that. Everybody says that. Ok, so if it's so cliched, why doe severybody say it? How come everybodys knows of that speech, even if only the first line? That speech goes to the depths of man's fear of dying, the trap of life that our fears hold us in. That's why everybody knows that speech. It cuts to the quick of existence, but how many people would say "oh, how cliche" on hearing the first syllable? That speech has been worn so thin by centuries of repetition that its meaning is hidden to the casual observer, and face it, how many observers nowadays are not casual? Who needs to worry about the problem of life and death when you have stir-fry noodles and oven chips? Words have no meaning any more. And what is more, we use them so frequently, that words are expected now, more than the thoughts behind the words. How much do people value silence? I can't think of many social situations where silence is considered a virtue: silence at the dinner table, silence with guests, silence at parties, not saying good morning to friends; all these things are considered impolite. But how many people really want to know about the endless things we talk about to fill silences? They don't mean very much. Ok, they could be said to 'oil the wheels of society', but they don't mean very much. Unfortunately, this lack of meaning goes everywhere: radio, television, most of it's noise. Noise to stop people thinking. Noise to fill the gaps. The internet is perhaps the greatest example of this wanton prostitution of words: all around the web, there are words, telling the world which character from star-trek people are most like, that their favourite colour is pink, that they are a well read intellectual. It's full of often greast pieces of poetry, which, through abuse have come to seem trite, pretentious. And if all things that try to describe people have failed, how do I tell people who I am? What will mean something to them? Who am I really? This question goes to the depths of sincerity. If we cannot present ideas, if we cannot think without being ridiculed as someone who thinks that ordinary life is somehow not good enough for them, who are we? All the words on the internet, telling the world that 'my favourite phrase is good fences make god neighbours', are merely a blanket. Using them to describe meaningles things has taken the life from them. "To be, or not to be: that is the question." Uh, Shakespeare is so, y'know, boring! So 16th century. He says something. But saying something is out of fashion. People do not care about the truth or even chasing it. They have become entrenched with their pride, unable to defeat, or to let it be defeated. Meanwhile, the act of thought is being steadily killed off. Perhaps not because there is no will to think, but who is there to tell? As I said, no-one is willing to accept ideas, simply because they can be so easily rejected, scorned trampled. I don't think enough. Trying to share ideas with people only ends with bruised egos all round. Nobody really knows me. I, actually, do not really know anybody, past what they tell me, and what is that, but words to fill the time? And words are just words, right? At least, they are now. |
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