Retrovertigo

“You who live safe
In your warm houses,
You who find warm food
And friendly faces when you return home.
Consider if this is a man
Who works in mud,
Who knows no peace,
Who fights for a crust of bread,
Who dies by a yes or no.
Consider if this is a woman
Without hair, without name,
Without the strength to remember,
Empty are her eyes, cold her womb,
Like a frog in winter.
Never forget that this has happened.
Remember these words.
Engrave them in your hearts,
When at home or in the street,
When lying down, when getting up.
Repeat them to your children.
Or may your houses be destroyed,
May illness strike you down,
May your offspring turn their faces from you.”

-Shema, Primo Levi

I don't get how you explain poetry to people. Honestly, I think it's either you get it or you don't. Some poet, some verse may awaken your poetry sense one day. As an example, apart from Shakespeare, the poems we studied in high school English classes were stodgy and unappealing - definitely didn't awaken a sense of purpose, passion or desire to read more. The verses we read in Spanish literature class, however, were alive and it was through those pieces that poetry became something worth paying attention to for me. Many of the poets/poems I enjoy are impressionistic, haunting and not fully explicable.

One of the most powerful things about the above poem (for me) is the emphasis on the importance of history- our collective, organized (and mutable) memory. Because what are we, without the story that comes before? And in which, despite trying not to, your mind tries to sort out winners and losers. Though it can't stop there - human conflict isn't a fair fight situation. So we have to study history to see what limitations and advantages people, nations and civilizations have had. Monday Morning Quarterbacking the hell out of history isn't  a bad thing per say - it's more than we can do that and learn something without lording over a previous decade morally. Morals aren't REAL - they're reflections of a time and an understanding of things. Which is to say, subject to changing or dying or both. Despite being Levi's poem being one that (very nearly) condemns those who would forget the historical record - the abject horrors humans inflict on humans, it's also one that brims with contempt for those who do not live their lives fully. Those who hide away within their own illusions of safety. Who think their day will never come, or is so far off and remote a possibility as to not be real at all. Either through privilege of ignorance or anxiety, that has built a wall. Racism represents that security, so does patriarchy. Heterosexuality. Monogamy. Religiosity. It's only when you're outside the norm of a society or people that you see the rigidity that leads to those compartments, those boxes.

The thing that separates us from other animals is that we ARE able to compartmentalize and categorize, which is necessary for certain types of higher-order thinking like math or science-based, but not more artistic pursuits. These aren't mutually exclusive, but the precision of art isn't always what makes it likable. Sometimes dissonance and confusion make the enjoyable enjoyable. For the audiophiles, it's the difference between pop music and genres that are more accessible or raw or authentic (or whatever the fuck is diametrically opposed to pop music). Remember the first time you heard some song that blew your mind in multiple categories - structure, experimentation, skill, concept. Personally, and despite it not being my favorite genre, it'd likely be a song by a "progressive rock" band - maybe a song that even pushed the limits for that particular band. New vocal stylings? New time signatures? Unusual instrumentation? What am I lIsTeNiNg to? Yes, please show me you've grown. Don't give me the same shit you've been giving me for years (*ahem*Tool*ahem*). More. You've evolved, no? Or, or shit, is it money...finally? Money is what is keeping you from actually producing a work that'll get you mixed reviews, or some eyebrows. But whatever, artists as people who were once on the edge of discovery of self and life, sometimes settle too far into that moment discovery of self and life. Visually, take examples like Hieronymus Bosch or Basquiat. The most technically proficient? Hardly. The most realistic? Decidedly not. But creativity? Authenticity? Surely. There's a life in their authenticity that isn't readily available in the manufactured pieces of art you can buy at Kohl's emblazoned with "Live.Laugh.Love" (not that I find them to be morally reprehensible, but there's a lack to that "art").

Over 100 years ago, at the precipice of the explosion of the modern world, Nietzsche opined that the era in which he lived was abound with the "men of science" and that his generation had killed God and spirituality. In 2019, what would he think of the "modern man" that inhabits the western liberal societies that have dominated geopolitics and culture for nearly thirty years? At first glance, despite any trends on attendance at religious services or general beliefs in the existence of angels, god(s) or any inexplicable, supernatural beings or events, this era is also marked by "men of science" that believe in their own abilities above all else. The difference now is that the influential few - the Zuckerbergs, Gateses, Bezoses, et al - have completely reshaped human interactions and redefined individual expression to prioritize consumption for their own ends of monetary gain and social influence (aka power). Our personal profiles on social media and our ever-increasing dependence on a device for acquiring information, communication, transportation, therapy, healthcare, distraction, entertainment, validation, connection ,etc has fundamentally altered human social interaction.

When we break down these advancements in technology, its infiltration into our lives and its inexplicable link to someone else's capital, it's important to continue to ask ourselves, is there a unifying underpinning for humanity? The answer is still yes. Evolutionary developments cannot be obliterated in such a short span of time as the duration of one generation. Babies are hardwired in the same ways they were since humans lived in nomadic clusters without so much as codified language. However, it is also beneficial to realize that you, too, as an adult, are hardwired in the same basic was as those first humans. Why is that a beneficial realization? Because it is freeing you, any of us from, the trappings of modern life and any particular expectations for what is "right" and acceptable behaviorally and intellectually. To consistently go against our own general nature biologically, to be unable to express what's written in our genetic code and shaped through our experiences is stifling and anxiety-provoking. This is not a plea for the recognition of only two biological sexes and subsequently two genders, or for a particular expression of sexuality. Quote the contrary. What's missed by gender essentialists and anyone who's arguing for "hard" definitions to what's appropriate expression of self is that genetics lays out a framework, a scaffolding, a skeletal structure. Nurture and experience flesh out that structure; even people with very similar and even identical genetic codes will have had enough of a degree of differentiations in their experienced life that their expression of self will reflect those differences. The certainty of science from 100 years ago or even 10 for that matter show us the dangers of the hard answer. Science shouldn't not be trusted, obviously, but it should be something that is not held up as an unchangeable and unchallengeable standard

And thusly, to really dumb down the poetic interpretation process to just me, "spit-ballin' ideas about life," the literary output of an Auschwitz survivor is one that reminds us to actually live. Because what the fuck else is there? Recently, I came to the realization that hating myself is also part of that certainty I am railing against. I knew that logically for some time, but only have been able to understand that on any real psycho-emotional level now. It's difficult to relay to others what it feels like to dislike oneself so completely as to want to waste away and become nothing. The belief that it'd be easier for me to allow myself to be completely consumed with the idea of being cosmic energy until it kills me than to actually harness that energy to experience something. So I get when someone like Levi lives through horror, produces a volume of artistic expression and still finds himself being crushed under the weight of existence. However, like Camus, my belief is that suicide will only negate and not solve the problem. Solely through observation, consciousness only comes once in this particular figuration and to experience what I can when I can means to be free enough to make decisions, mistakes, to learn and ultimately, evolve.

"Alas, the time is coming when man will no longer give birth to a star. Alas, the time of the most despicable man is coming, he that is no longer able to despise himself. Behold, I show you the last man.
     'What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?' thus asks the last man, and blinks.
     The earth has become small, and on it hops the last man, who makes everything small. His race is as ineradicable as the flea; the last man lives longest.
     'We have invented happiness,'say the last men, and they blink. They have left the regions where it was hard to live, for one needs warmth. One still loves one's neighbor and rubs against him, for one needs warmth...No shepherd and one herd! Everybody wants the same, everybody is the same: whoever feels different goes voluntarily into a madhouse.
     'Formerly, all the world was mad,' say the most refined, and they blink...
     One has one's little pleasure for the day and one's little pleasure for the night: but one has a regard for health.
     'We have invented happiness,' say the last men, and they blink." - Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

The Bridge

"Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the Superman--a rope over an abyss." - Nietzsche

Admittedly, I've never read any work by Nietzsche in full. Quotes, synopses, excerpts, analyses, but never a complete work. I probably should because whatever I have read, I've really enjoyed. In fact, I am also reminded of my own thoughts when I do, which is somewhat scary, and not because he was a secret Nazi (he wasn't), but because he went insane. Always a little eccentric, the story goes that he saw a man flogging a horse on the streets of Turin, Italy in 1889 and he ran to the animal, crying and throwing himself over its body to protect it. After this public breakdown and a series of strokes and other health ailments, he died in the summer of 1890. In that interim, his ability to communicate effectively with the outside world broke down to the point that it was incomprehensible.

This is not a piece of self-aggrandizement - I'm no Nietzsche. It's more of an inquiry into genius, insight, and madness in our own society.
Societally, how do we treat those who think differently? Do we lock them away? Medicate them? Let them run rampant? When I teach history, I like to ask these sorts of questions because it helps to shed light on what a culture was in a particular time. If you've ever see the movie Amadeus, the composer Salieri is placed in an asylum after slitting his own throat. He is incredibly lucid but the other patients (more aptly, inmates) seem to run the gamut from the psychotically deranged to the mentally retarded. This practice was not all that uncommon, even in the United States through the 1970s - children with severe learning disabilities or emotional disturbances were oftentimes shuttered away rather than being given an education suitable to their abilities (or even having their abilities, whatever they might have been, cultivated in some way to allow them the freedom to enjoy a life outside of a confined space). Luckily, with the advent of laws that protect the differently abled, many children are now afforded opportunities that most other "normal" children are given - to be around their peers, have access to enriching educational environments, participate in sports and clubs, etc.


In Art History class last night the professor was discussing Van Gogh. His life was, to put it bluntly, depressing as fuck (she didn't describe it in those terms, though that would have been ahh-mazing). She joked that if he had lived today he probably would not have produced his most famous works, like Starry Night, because he would have been so heavily medicated. In fact, art historians have noted that his signature style can be closely tracked with his departure off the deep end. And what if she is right? What if our current society's obsession with making sure people are on the right drugs to help them through the day, to "normalize" behaviors are actually killing off human creativity? Sure, Van Gogh lived a shitty life and died a horrible death, but at the same time, he became completely immersed in his work and has been immortalized through it. I don't believe in fate, but her comments made the wheels start turning - What if that sacrifice was a necessity for the progression of art? How would modern art be different without Van Gogh's contributions? What would be the impact on those that followed if his works had not been made to learn from and enjoy in its mere existence?

In France, ADHD isn't really a "thing" that kids have. It's just called being a kid. Parents there aren't as quick to medicate their children. Why? Is there something to be learned from struggling that we, as Americans, are afraid to do? Of course I see a lot of this at work - parents concerned about their child's grade when its not what they expected (an A). Their child never got lower than an A before, how could it be that they're not doing as well as they (re: the parent) had expected? That's something we all need to learn - how to be able to work within the parameters set to succeed. And those parameters are not always fair either - throw in institutionalized racism or sexism and a lot of people have to work doubly as hard to gain acceptance, let alone success. At times, that struggle will seem insurmountable; but then we also might really learn something about the system, ourselves, humanity, etc.

I see that desire to push humanity in Nietzsche as I do in myself. I can get pretty indignant about the apathy that most people express toward doing anything that would push them out of their comfort zone. In high school, one of my friends joked that if I kept up this pace of trying to right all of the world's wrongs, I'd eventually lose my mind. She prophesized I would be a babbling crazy person in the street (not too far off for Nietzsche, honestly). Well, I do actually think about that a lot because there sure are times where I know I can't run away to Montana, but if I continue on here, I will lose. my. shit. So what's a girl to do? There is not an easy answer. At least not one that I have come across yet.

Recently, I read a biography of another one of my favorite philosophers Albert Camus. His works are more literary that straight up philosophical treatises and he was criticized heavily for this throughout his life. Readers, including his own friends (like Sartre), expected a logical approach to a problem and got poetic imagery-laden text instead. In the rejection Camus faced, he never stopped addressing the whole. While others focused on the trees, he saw the forest. He internalized the quote from Nietzsche at the top - that we represent the bridge between what we came from and what we can be. Critical of both the French colonial forces AND the Algerian armed resistance movements, Camus refused to take sides, preferring to work with civilians on the ground who were stuck in between the cycle of violence perpetrated by both groups. Indeed, his commitment to a cause likely led to his demise as well, but he too left behind a legacy of ideas and actions for succeeding generations to consider.


In today's world of constant internet outrage, I can sympathize with Camus not wanting to take a side. It's easy to jump on the latest cause bandwagon and to vociferously state an opinion from the safety of your smartphone screen. But that's virtual. Sure, you support the cause by posting a meme, signing a petition, et. al, but what else will you do about it? It's a lot more difficult to walk outside and find someone who needs help. Especially when no one quite understands what you're doing (poor Nietzsche). I know I come off as a luddite many times, but there has to be a balance between how we can use technology to our advantage and what we rely on it for (no boredom, ever!!) Panem et circenses meet res ipsa loquitur - we're doing this shit to ourselves and it's only getting worse.

I'm a "Realist"

Am I a realist or a cynic? Is there a difference? Have I deluded myself into just thinking I'm "right' about the world when in fact I am just some curmudgeon? Or maybe I'm both right AND a curmudgeon? Hmm...

So here's my definition of the cynic: Those who think, at the core, that it's ALL fucked...that there's only this one go-around in this exact consciousness, that we're not living an eternal other-existence in another reality, that nothing can ever be the same, that Gatsby was so fucking delusional to think he could repeat the past....is that a cynic? Is that a realist? Is that me? The signs are everywhere but we're in denial a lot of the time or at least most of us are most of the time. Even the cynic is - unless they're living like Diogenes on the street somewhere - it's pretty easy to get drawn in to all of the mucky-muck of the daily grind, the veil of maya, as the Buddhists call it. It's alluring for sure.

The religious, the people who truly believe in "god," probably think their faith in "god" is similar to my conviction of nothingness, that I have faith in some sort of cynical conception of godliness. That's not true (and maybe you, as the reader, will say I am splitting hairs here), but I attest to knowing nothing. I would claim that I have an utter "lack" of faith. Lacking faith is not the same as possessing faith. Lack means without, an absence of, a deficiency in, a fault. To lack some thing or some aspect does not mean it would truly exist in any one modal form (Plato was so wrong about that. But he [inadvertently, or not] reinforced a binary way of thinking on literally everyone in the Western world).

At the depth of meditation or the nadir of anxiety or even the ecstasy of physical climax, the realization of how empty everything is hits. Sure, all of those emptinesses are different and affect the feeler in various ways. Yet, all are equally void of any real substance. Think about your last great orgasm - what was there but a feeling, a fleetingness that cannot be reclaimed in that same exact way. It's pure experience. As your thoughts and everyday clutter melts away, you're left with just being and you have to be able to just accept that.

This has been said many times over in many incarnations - Jesus, Buddha, Kierkegaard, Sartre, Camus, Pirsig, Watts - and yet, to re-realize their point for yourself is worth the iterations. I know I have written about this before in previous posts, but I think I have realized two things more recently:
1. that being a cynic (without being a nihilist) is freeing. It frees the player of real heavy decision making knowing death is an actual endpoint.
2. To clarify the first point, this is not a post advocating suicide, but in actuality, one that promotes  going out and enjoying life. In effect, I'm advocating more hedonism.


So whether or not Camus truly said, "Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?" may still be up for debate, but I'm sure as hell having another cup of coffee.