Egyptian decor coloring logic…

Schadenfreude. Leave it to the Germans to come up with a word for deriving pleasure from others’ misfortune. Part of the reason that my karma levels are so low is that I make no apologies for enjoying when people I hate finally get what’s coming to them.

Cynicism and idealism are two cheeks on the same ass. But being less cynical doesn’t preclude your remaining intelligently skeptical – after all, many of the examples of ‘cynicism’ would, to many people, form part of a perfectly rational worldview. There’s nothing inherently cynical about not settling for easy answers. Of course, it’s hard work, and not a succession of soft-focus cockle-warming epiphanies, being a cynic.

So I’ve been thinking about Social Darwinism; and further thinking about how weird it is to be thinking about Social Darwinism. That might be because I sparknoted Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand recently and her philosophy of Objectivism certainly seems like a close cousin to Social Darwinism to me. Or maybe its because I take the city bus every morning and there are always beggars around looking for money.

I never really wanted to consider myself a Social Darwinist, mostly because I’m constantly surrounded by bleeding hearts and liberals and bleeding-hearted liberals, but I find it hard to refute the basic tenants of a philosophy whose pillars are industrious work ethic and self-advancement. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are people that I do feel for, and believe need assistance: the sick, the psycho, the retarded, et cetera, but I certainly don’t believe in welfare or governmental/societal intervention for the preservation of a few at the expense of the many.

That sounds really cold-hearted, I know, but I’m a firm believer in learning through failure and survival. Lord (and everyone else) knows that I have failed an ungodly number of times in my life, but the measure of a human being is not his failures, but his successes. Yet how can any man be considered successful if he never faced any trials or tests of his endurance and moral integrity?

It’s the same thing with parents that over-protect their children. Those children are never given a chance to learn from their failures and can’t deal with the harsh realities of the real world. They grow up to be the guy that shoots Lincoln or sends bombs to people’s houses. Simply put, every able-bodied, able-minded person in this world has the ability to rise above their conditions. It is a matter of application and denying yourself the comforts of self-pity.

I realize it easy for someone like me to make generalizations like this, considering I’ve been born to relative privilege, and I do see the need for charity and – as implied by my earlier statement about random acts of kindness – I don’t believe in the staunch, kill-or-be-killed, dog-eat-dog Objectivism of Ayn Rand.

I’ve heard it said that the unexamined life is not worth living, but I have to retort by asking if you continuously examine your life, are you really even living it?

I’ve come to the realization that I’m completely unable to give a fuck. Whatever mechanism causes people to give a fuck – whether it be a soul, a conscious, Irish guilt – mine is broken. It is slightly upsetting. I opened up this blog writing thingy with the thought that I want to write something, but I really don’t give enough of a fuck about anything right now to even post something coherent (you know, like I always do). Blogs are self-indulgent, sure, but acts of self-indulegence are not inherently narcissistic or vain.

Maybe I’m not supposed to care. Wasn’t it the Shins that said “Caring Is Creepy”? There’s a certain level of awe and prestige in our culture bestowed upon people who can remain aloof. Maybe caring is creepy. Think about the concept of a “crush”. You can’t let a crush know that you care about them. Or at least you’re supposed to ration the amount of emotion you show to them until you’ve gauged the likelihood of their reciprocation. You’re punished for caring essentially, or for getting carried away. Yet every storybook and movie you’ve ever read or watched leads you to believe that you’re supposed to wait around for that romance that makes you abandon all pretense and let’s you get swept up in it. Isn’t this contradictory? I don’t believe in love at first sight, mostly because I believe love to be a complex emotion that varies, not only from person to person, but internally from relationship to relationship, and the singular sense of sight (the easiest sense to deceive) should hardly be left to be judge, jury and executioner over love.

The Lucy Van Pelts of the world are happier than the Charlie Browns. Assholes are the heroes of their own stories. And they don’t even know that they’re assholes; because if they did, they wouldn’t truly be assholes. They’d be self-loathing wishy-washies in therapy. So raise a glass to the insufferable jerks; little critters of nature!

And this is my conclusion; my brilliant insightful coup de grace: The truth hurts… that’s why I use it.

~ by davenewworld on March 26, 2009.