I’ve been thinking about the satirical Monty Python tune ‘Always look on the Bright Side of Life’. The song comes to mind because I’m finding myself in quite the opposite situation lately: entertaining a dark humor. Being aware of the need to lighten up before I descend too far into the abyss, Eric Idle and the gang, always quick with dark humor of their own temper my daily diet of the news, the knowledge of world events that are consistently quite the opposite of enlightening.
Putting things into perspective, not wanting to totally abandon reality, the boys continue; ‘always look on the bright side of death’, informing us ‘we come from nothing, return to nothing, what’s lost’. And if humor doesn’t lighten one up whistling might help.
I’ve been reading accounts, lately, some fictional, some non, of man’s inhumanity to man. Myriad examples abound on various media outlets; news of heinous acts perpetrated by religious zealots and alienated loners among others.
Usually when real bullets or knives are involved, we’re exposed to such malevolence in video offerings that carry a warning of disturbing content of particularly vile acts to prepare us sensitive viewers for what’s to come (which, I suspect, is a real attention grabber) and, when it comes to the fictional realm is choreographed with accompanying soundtrack resulting in glorification, romanticizing the obscenities.
The accounts of wicked behavior I find most disturbing, though, are in the form of written narrative where description can be presented unedited and without censorship, where behaviors so hateful and vile, described in vivid detail, have the potential to burn the obscene imagery into one’s mind.
So, I’m wondering, does consuming knowledge of wicked and vile acts anesthetize, numb one’s sensibilities making the horrors presented more tolerable? Can descriptions of vile acts so horrific that knowledge of them become embedded within the mind of the reader, alter his/her countenance?
I’m thinking we may need to temper our media consumption sometimes, pay attention to the good happening in the world, you know, seek the lighter side. I suspect some research may be involved.
I’ve been thinking, for some time, about the polarized political narrative these days. I guess the divisiveness isn’t so surprising given the sensationalistic clickbait that crops up on everyone’s phone, algorithmically modified to enhance the political inclinations of the viewer/listener and further exacerbated by politicos anxious to feed from the populist trough.
Ok; so maybe the news I’m being fed has got me thinking in black and white. Maybe I should be seeking and finding the nuances necessary to exchange diverse ideas in a constructive manner with those who hold views I consider abhorrent. Maybe my world is the simplistic one. I’ll work on it. Still, I do like the clarity of black birds on white snow.
In these divisive times of disparate beliefs and alternate realities it seems reasonable to weigh with care one’s personal offerings on subjects of controversy. Strong opinions will arise inevitably in all of us paying attention to the political narrative these days, our chosen news feeds providing us with sound bites of ‘logical’ support for our irrefutable truths. Voicing opinion may best be tempered in the interests of momentary calm, but such a stance seems rarely practiced.
I’ve been reading about the concept of Mumbo Jumbo, an adaptable personage in the traditional cultures of Central Africa. When conflicts emerge, often within the polygamous harems, Mumbo Jumbo may appear with masked face, top hat and staff to gather the community and then single out the most egregious disruptor for punishment.
I’m wondering if a similar sort of magical thought may be creeping into our thinking these days.
A beautiful late spring day, sun shining, light breeze blowing, conjures images of youthful optimism, of the immanent occurrence of wonderful happenings likely in the near future.
Now, the number and quality of possible outcomes, many not necessarily good, have me wondering about what’s been lost. No doubt my earlier optimism was swayed by a generously youthful naivete, and world events, these days, are dire, oppressive if one pays too much attention.
Still, the opening into the transcendent ought to be there, shrunk maybe, narrower, more constricted but the window, grimy as it may be, ought to admit a bit of light.
It’s pretty easy to get caught up in the proliferation of bad news I’m constantly bombarded with these days. I’m made aware, daily, of impending disasters awaiting me around nearly every corner. Attacks are perpetrated and battles are waged on multiple fronts by various actors, in various ways, stressing the limits of my abilities to realize some semblance of peace. The psychic discomfort I experience from following the news makes it difficult to maintain any sort of optimistic outlook, any sense of an ultimate ‘happily ever after’ scenario ever becoming possible in this life. If only I could glimpse even pinpricks of light passing through the shroud of impending gloom I might be able to catch a breath, slow my heart rate down a bit.
Of course, I’m thinking these things as I sit here sipping hot chocolate while reclining in the living room of my home where I will soon take to bed to catch my regular 8 hours and rise in the morning to read of another day’s multiple disasters.
I’m not sure how to think about such contradiction.
I’ve been reading aphorisms by the Romanian philosopher Emil Cioran. E. C. was an extreme misanthrope of such pessimistic belief it led his distraught mother, unable to understand his negativity to tell him she wished he’d never been born, that had she known what he’d become she’d have aborted him.
As I seek something enlightening (or at least redeemable) in his writings I find him relating that, while life is a misery, chronically painful, that suffering is universal and never ending and that most people are too pathetic to do anything about it, sustainable existence may lie in hope and the distractions engaging in arts activities might offer. But for the talentless, the disaster which is reality will be overwhelming. E. C. thinks better to give one’s life to heroic acts since there really is nothing to live for. The talentless hero can at least have a sort of remembrance.
As for me, I’m not sure how fair it is to reduce the heroism of, say, a combat troop who falls on a grenade to save his comrades to lack of talent. Still, it’s hard to imagine that an inner life of some sort wouldn’t keep one from diving for cover in such circumstances.
I’ve been reading, recently, about the experiments with the drug mescalin Aldous Huxley performed in the 1950’s. He determined that the drug will ‘open the door’ of one’s perceptions, allow one to pass through the wall of harsh reality and for most everyone with proper introduction and guidance, will produce expanding insights, an increasing ability to see more deeply and observe the world ego-free. Being able to embrace the ‘isness’ of our visible world, the stuff of experience that has by survival instinct been reduced to labeled objects, would make everything we see more significant as the drug inhibits self-consciousness.
There are caveats. A sound, stable mind grounded and free of anxiety is essential. AH points out the drug may induce schizophrenic response, scare the user into interpreting his surroundings as cosmic malevolence, begin viewing experiences as conspiratorial, as a plot to destroy him.
Which has me thinking about the alternative realities so prevalent in the public sphere these days. How so many of us have caved to conspiratorial narratives, have fallen into the dark world of the ‘deep state’ even without experiencing the negative effects of a mind-altering drug.
Even so, it seems to me cracking open some of those ‘doors’, gain at least a glimpse beyond our limiting realities would gain us a worthwhile perspective. Maybe, if one really tried one could will the expansion without the drug.
There’s a lot of discussion these days about whether or not humankind is putting excessive pressure on our earth’s finite resources. Population growth, new technologies for extracting fossil fuels, depletion of forest lands, loss of clean fresh water sources, garbage in the oceans, over fishing, the list goes on and on.
I was reading an interesting commentary on what would happen to our world if humankind was suddenly to disappear, how quickly it would rebound, become healthy again. Such a scenario, human extinction that is, is not all that unthinkable in view of international tensions these days.
Such thinking made the book, The World Without us, by Alan Weisman, compelling reading. Mr. Weisman suggests that, in his believable future world, infrastructures would begin to fail, the New York subway tunnels would flood almost immediately and within a few hundred years our most solidly built brick, mortar and concrete structures would crumble. Native vegetation would push up through asphalt roadways hastening nature’s reclamation of the earth. Coral reefs and sea life would rebound as the resilient oceans healed themselves.
Even 500 years later the earth, it seems to me, would be a much more attractive place to be; except, of course, I wouldn’t be here; unless I could somehow live in the future. But, I guess that’s a whole other issue.
I’ve been trying to understand the fluctuations in the world order these days with populist movements arising around the world ushering in strongman politicians, spinning narratives of restorative nostalgia, remembrance of times past when everything was better than it now is despite the relative affluence most of us realize.
There are always, I suppose, folks of ambition but mediocre talent who don’t achieve desired advancement, who might seek a less competitive structure than the socio-economic system that promotes the best and most able and insures the system functions as effectively as possible. And then there are those of modest ambition who may fear disenfranchisement and the disfavor of the strongman who climb on the bandwagon.
The problem is that the strongman, assuming free reign, may begin to make up his own rules, begin suppressing opposition, placing restrictions on access to information until there’s only one narrative. And, with only one narrative truth can be stretched, people demonized, scapegoats created to be blamed when things go awry.
Better I think to have a sometimes messy and chaotic pluralism where everyone has a say even if considerable energy may be required in public debate.