The Aftermath of a Cynic

I have spent many a day sneering at the mannerisms and idiosyncrasies of self-proclaimed artists in my midst. I would do everything from accusing them of deliberately evoking and welcoming rebuke and insult from bystanders through extravagance, to assuming that their own unmitigated creativity was a haughty belief that they were above reason and reproach. I haven't completely abandoned these ideas, but I've had to modify them to accommodate a rather unsettling possibility. 

As I sat in my Uber, contemplating how and when the subject of ethnicity and faith was going to be broached aside my Far-Eastern chauffeur, I was struck with an uncomfortable opinion. My driver droned on about his respect and awe at the prowess and alleged rarity of artists in contemporary life. It was only once I began to analyze his words, that I realized his supposed complement was directed at me. Could it be true? Am I an artist? It seems inevitably solipsistic and self-flattering no matter the tone voice in which that question is asked. But the life of a writer, an editor, and even a linguist bewitched this man. I tried to explain it away in my head by composing rationalizations about how his immigrant status and restrictive Islamic upbringing could render any expression of dissident thought as "artistic." Then I noticed something — regardless of whether or not that thought was valid, a defense mechanism kicked in. I needed to spurn the title, however sycophantic the delivery appeared. 

All the qualities that I view with a mollified disdain are held by my heroes. Hitch was a popinjay and a gadfly, and I think would at times feign anger in his polemics. Gore Vidal felt the same way about him, saying that he began to "try too hard" in his latter years. Hitch would express thinly veiled contempt for old essayists like Henry Fairlie, saying that he would invent a subject to be annoyed about. Peterson is self-aware enough to recognize his manic and bombastic temperament, and Jim Cornette is on prescription level Zantac and a low sugar diet to curb his rage and its ensuing cardiac implications. All three have however conveniently stressed their unwavering politeness and civility when confronted with worthy opponents, and even become docile when potential humiliation could result. It pains me to admit it, but everything up to and including a mock heart attack and excessive cortisol release are familiar. 

Could I take refuge in the it's only human to be socially schizophrenic cliché? Perhaps. Or I could tap into my narcissism and quote Emerson in saying that consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds. I prefer the complement to my cerebellum and uniqueness. After all, which artist doesn't love pretentiously unwarranted praise? 

Power-bombs and Feminism

To even the most casual of fans, the notion of extreme feminist thought pervading the WWE is obvious. Whether it was the ironic and feeble-minded pay-per-view Evolution, or the hyper-ironic women's match in Dubai between Alexa Bliss and Sasha Banks, the company and its product are rife with pathos and pseudo-solidarity. One segment even involved the C.O.O asking the female superstars to step forward on stage in what seemed like a simultaneously self-emancipating and self-glorifying presentation to proclaim their collective value and superiority. I am forced to believe that not all of the women were on board with this spectacle as it neglected the intra-female competition. However, the very nature of the political correctness is too simple to attack from the hackneyed "oh the men were disregarded and subverted" M.R.A approach; this is a female problem. I do not want to sound prophetic (nor do I think I am) but the consequences of actions like these cause young talent to desire a release. A paradoxical phenomenon occurs; the more one stresses and promotes the validity of the female universally, the more one obscures and negates the female individually. 

Sports entertainment (specifically WWE) is unique not only in the steadfast adherence of its fan base, but its internal machinations and organizational structure. Obviously, it is one of the few athletic arenas in which the rivalries, performances, and outcomes are all overtly predetermined. One can debate about to what degree the content of matches and promos should be rehearsed and choreographed, but its calculation is essential. Thus, gimmicks and personas are contrived and modeled to reflect company interests and audiences' reception. One of the most ironic of the creative department's decisions (not including inconsequential and self-defeating semi-topless segments and various seductive female hotel scenes) is Becky Lynch's current epithet - The Man. It feels superfluous to explain the hypocrisy and stupidity of this invention. Just as the architect and members of the women's division demand egalitarian representation and consideration, the best conceivable vehicle for doing so becomes the propagation of a masculine character. This to me is completely anti-feminist and a sign of defeat. A more honest and confident attempt would have been "The Woman"; I digress. I am not here to petition for a job working alongside the likes of Vince Russo. Much like any other gimmick proposed or tried, the wrestling community has its detractors and its supporters. One rather shallow but not inexpensive point was Lynch's attempt to maintain such a character without actually realizing she isn't male. Stupid retorts such as "Not all nicknames are literal" usually constitute the defense. The point is entirely missed; she is endorsing the very belief against which she rails so intensely. That only traditional male personas can get over and resonate with the crowd. If she and other women want to defend and perpetuate their scapegoat, they are going to have to come up with one hell of a fine ad hoc rationalization. 

Recent attempts to justify this have been made by new villains with whom the hottest babyface in the company can clash. Boringly and predictably, her main antagonist is a traditional Southern woman with an affinity for aesthetics, etiquette, and cattiness. Self-evidently, the only way a woman could disagree with Lynch's hilariously conformist and workaday attitude is if she is a blithering buffoon with Stockholm syndrome for nostalgic oppression. Even if one were to assume that such a conclusion was accurate and valid, it in the very least must acknowledge the schizophrenia going on within the organization and its ambassadors. Do you want to abide by the self-contradictory proposition of total inclusivity (within which a heel cannot exist, because you would have to endlessly vilify the contemporary Western ethos while trying to extract money from it. To paraphrase Jim Cornette - no one wants to pay to get their own ass kicked) or defy it and betray your principles?

Apocalyptic signs have already occurred for the world's largest wrestling conglomerate: risque quasi-nudity cannot co-exist with exclusively female promotions, I would love to see how Vinny Mac squares this circle within the squared-circle.

Letter to a Secular Nation

An Apprehensive Atheist

For the last few years, I have been incessantly disputing about and ruminating over the validity, truth, and pertinence of faith (in this case, Christian). I have repeatedly reviewed, criticized, and amended my philosophical and theoretical positions in an attempt to discover that which was objectively correct. However, I believe that over the last year my opinion of veracity has become radically more pragmatic and realistic (pace Jordan Peterson's influence). When I envision idealism vs. realism mapped onto the single-axis version of the political compass, it presents itself as a direct correlation with left vs. right. This may be an oversimplification, but bear with me. 

My formerly acclaimed post-mortem mentor Christopher Hitchens was not only guilty of having faith based utopianistic views (Trostkyist/Rosa Luxemburgist sympathies, and romanticizing The Prophet Outcast as some sort of ostracized materialist messiah)during his youthful proselytizing days, but also during his illusory ideological "emancipation." I don't even need to address his frequently perceived "neocon conversion." In several late interviews, Hitchens asserted that he "no longer held any political allegiances" and that "he left hold of the doctrinaire, to let his chain-less mind do its own thinking"; the latter being a direct quotation from his memoir. I hold this profession to be almost more delusional and megalomaniacal than his initial socialist convictions. Ironically, he seemed to have been aware of this paradox to a degree. Having often stated that he still "thought like a Marxist" and "believed in the materialist concept of history, involving the importance of the dialectical interpenetration of opposites." However, the first musketeer of New Atheism isn't a complete hypocrite. There is one salient consistency: Hitchens died a radical and a dissident. His idealistic views of a society run by the precepts and teachings of Democritus, Galileo, Hume, Lucretius, Paine, Russell, and Voltaire hold something of the same allure that the Libertarian party's mystique does to contrarian youth alike. Its improbability and impracticality are what keep it mouth-watering and digestible. 

I mention the Hitchens digression only as a simulacrum and representation of something far more widespread and conventional (much to Christopher's dismay)in prevailing Western thought. The assumption that once one has espoused Atheism/Secularism and begins to study Philosophy and Psychology (as I believe is intellectually and morally necessary), their ethics are justifiably divorced from monotheism and religious thought. This position concerns me, as does the assertion of rationalistic purity being the paramount pathway forward after the scientific revolution. 

I am no longer convinced that the cult of reason and scientific inquiry is truly as open-minded as I once esteemed. There's a dissatisfying reaction made by the faithless once they discover that a beloved public intellectual doesn't adorn the atomic A across their breast. Unintentionally, I believe I have reached a point of controversial post-theism; the same position that many young men occupy after they have converted to Christian Atheism having watched an episode of JBP's biblical series. This is ironically such "easy virtue" that attempts to fill a gaping rotundity with a hollow sphere. The intellectualism is ignoring the pragmatism; smug young erudites can adhere to an antiquity-adoring New Age Secularism, leaving laymen in the lurch. How are the masses to address questions of metaphysics? Here's a secret: The new crypto-secular prophet doesn't know either! Pity the intellectual soaring above the multitudes, only to realize that he too, must check the weather channel for flight conditions.

The old specter that once haunted Europe is not the only replacement in sight, nor is its slow-witted, pathetic, and twisted-compassion ridden cousin of social justice. People may boringly and insipidly accuse Harris and Dawkins of fundamentalism, but Peterson is right: "the probability that regular folk construe God or belief in the same way that he does is virtually ZERO." Beware the pompous and impressionable adolescents flirting with dogmatism - Jung's fascination with story-telling may resurrect a literally crucified and buried and Christ. 

Mediocre Thoughts on Ayn Rand

Far from being the proper egotist in the sense that Sam Harris describes as "not understanding pro-social emotions", Ms. Rand was the most elegantly self-centered primate whom I had the privilege of studying. 

Once on the Phil Donahue show, she denied the host's goad to worship at the altar of ecology (not having been impressed by natural spectacles) by saying that she was "in awe of skyscrapers... of what man was able to construct on his OWN." Contingent upon the point of reference, Rand was theologically consistent in a Protestant manner. Ironically, of course, for the woman who claims to have had no faith at all, and who uttered that religiosity was demonstrative of "a bad sign psychologically." In other words, to believe something that by definition man knows cannot be true and is unsubstantiated in any way. I have made it plain on several occasions how dishonest Gnostic Atheism is, let alone when it's accompanied by the boring statement "you are never called upon to prove a negative."

Nonetheless, the theological postulate resides. Rand was heavily anthropocentric in a cosmological sense. This quote from a latter television appearance illustrates her almost erotic love for men and mankind. Far from being devoid of the numinous, she expanded her veneration for mammals in the strictest metaphysical sense - homo sapiens sapiens are distinct from all other creations, potentially universally, and deserve such recognition and adulation lest we revert to paganism; much of which is all too salient in modern dietary habits. She seemed almost prescient, dare I say clairvoyant? For this, I claim that the cliche and hackneyed assessment of Objectivism as being fanatically arid and lugubrious is specious. This may even connect to her writings in the Romantic manifesto (which I admit I have yet to read) and Kira's aspirations to one day contribute to the alleged glory of the concrete jungle in We the Living. 

I have always been suspicious of the severely shallow criticisms of her work by public intellectuals, who undoubtedly benefit from assailing a deceased figure. My beloved Hitch repeated the same noise when confronted with this question: 
"I have always found it quaint that there is a part of the American electorate who thinks that people are not yet selfish enough" 
"It's too strenuous to recommend that people be even more self-centered" 
"Allan Greenspan is a walking contradiction" 
"Novels as transcendentally awful as Atlas Shrugged or The Fountainhead undermine my project... to redirect literature and philosophy as epicenters for moral discussion"

All of the above appear to me to be witticisms lacking substance. Not necessarily invalid or incoherent, but requiring development and example. Then again, I suppose Hitchens did make a career out of eloquence, charm, and the occasional intellectual posturing. Shifting from the questionably Marxist to certifiably Hegelian, I have also heard Slavoj Zizek claim that "Ayn Rand is so orthodox, that she is a parody of capitalism itself. Her ultra-conformism is so powerful, that she exposes the absurdity and evils of the system unconsciously. She is an embarrassment." I did take some liberties with the superstar communist's words, but the aforementioned quotation is an accurate reflection of his analysis. As for Jordan Peterson's view, we need not stumble around in the dark. Centrist as ever, Peterson proclaimed that he enjoyed reading Atlas Shrugged on multiple occasions, but does not interpret Ayn as a great mind. Less political or economical in scrutiny, JBP stated that her characters are too one dimensional; a dearth of intra-character struggle between good and evil. Binary as ever in critique, which I presume is to be expected. 

Thanks,

No John Galt

What Are Ya Reading From Your Journal?!

God, Rationalism, & Cave-Diving

"The prophet descends from the mountain, and everyone in the town square wants to listen to what he has to say. He appears so small, with a massive ear. That was Nietzsche's metaphor for an intellectual. Unable to compete in any other realm, with the rational faculty expanded to astronomical proportions."

- Dr. Jordan Peterson

As is patently obvious, I have taken a break from writing over the last year or so. During my hiatus, I did that which is necessary for any human being to do; grow. Countless new acquaintances, experiences, both enjoyable and contemptible, have shaped and remodeled my prefrontal cortex. However, nothing has been more influential and devastating than the development of my psyche. Dogmatism, as I have come to understand, is not restricted to the religious.

I promise I am not pulling a C.S Lewis or an Alister McGrath on the atheists. Nor, in my view, have I become a toady acolyte of Jordan Peterson. Nonetheless, I cannot deny the relevance and potency of his eclectic and equivocal perspective on God. In short the lobster man submits that that which an individual reveres most in their value hierarchy functions practically as their god. Borrowed from the musings of Carl Gustav Jung, Peterson's position is esoteric at best. In effort to divorce myself as much as possible from intellectual bias, I evaluated his proposition on an empirical basis. Ironically, since my departure from the formal world of academia, there has been nothing to which I have been more fanatically devoted than the intellectual. The social, romantic, experiential, and impulsive realms of life suffered such a decline in attention that describing them as anorexic would have been generous. I recognized that there was an imbalance in my life, but persistently extolled the sentiment as evolution. Nothing is more devolved and unscientific than a life devoid of the heuristic. I will have to concede, with severe ambivalence, the ineptitude of hyper rationalism as a practical philosophy. Nonetheless, my proclivity for scrutiny cannot go ignored. If I were to give Jordan a pass on his radical oversimplification and casuistry, my brain would be as emaciated as my spontaneity. 

If we assume that Jordan's thesis is correct, and that in fact all human beings are religious in action and temperament, we are forced to acknowledge the very attributes that contributed to my stagnancy and anguish. I would summarize Peterson's analysis of human religiosity as follows: ritual, worship, and obstinacy. The very behaviors that I inevitably exhibited (per his assertions) fueled my tragedy and suffering. If indeed his pessimistic outlook on the human condition is sound, then he is forced by argumentative consistency to admit the horror that ensues as a result. I am not trying to reduce religion and faith to a thirteen year old atheist's naive conclusion, but I refuse to blindly join the boring bandwagon and alleged cultural resurrection of Christ. 

My advice to intellectuals who find themselves fettered by the creations of their own feeble minds is this - bring your harness. The phrase going down the rabbit hole is employed far too often for my liking, but it allows for an elegant analogy. Prior to my appreciation of pragmatic truths (which function as assumptions on which we all must operate; a necessary refuge for your ignorance) I descended the furry mammal's humble abode unsecured. Having an affinity for deconstructivism will eventually result in the complete disintegration of foundation and leave you unable to aggress (I hate the stupid connotations associated with progress, political and psychological); ascension impossible. 

If you made it this far, you are undoubtedly wondering what I mean by these truths and how I exact them. It occurred to me recently that if I am to escape the petrifying rigidity of the prescriptive and artificial, then I must defer to the descriptive and natural. I tread with caution whenever people begin to speak about what is natural. Normally it is a good indicator that some hysterical and unfounded bullshit is about to follow. However, I remarked that if I began to trust some impulses and pursue those inclinations to their exhaustion, the primal parts of me might shed some light on the purportedly lucid rationality to which intellects so stubbornly cling. So far, I have noticed minor improvements in exaction, decision making, and sentimentality; a welcomed change from the paralytic paranoia and debilitating doubt.

I make a brief, anecdotal, and cautious attempt at criticizing the perils and pitfalls of excessive rationalism. When my plight reached its apex, I began to believe that most of my thoughts and actions were consciously controlled and performed in practice - leading me to conclude intention. The internal struggle and frustration was insurmountable, and lead to toxic social consequences. Unintentionally, I began to believe that every one's behavior was always deliberate, calculated, and willed. I hope I do not have to point out what is calamitous there.

As a self-reminder and potential piece of advice, if you wish to scale the depths of our cavernous minds, pull the cord when the uncertainty epitomizes. 

Best,

A concerned citizen

The Scourge of the Electorate: A Verbal North Korea

Political Correctness: A Contradiction in Terms

Whenever we hear the word spoken - even in passing, inappropriately used to describe esoterically interpersonal qualms that become too widespread for our taste - we experience an almost immediate subconscious flinch. This lets us all know that we have encroached upon the prime breeding grounds of controversy. Why should we react in such a way to a subject that innately requires the involvement of the citizen? Our forefathers and elders have instructed us to evade colloquial politics at all costs, lest disagreement and opposition should occur among ourselves and those whom we love. 

Our ancestors were right about one thing - civilizational discussions will indeed incur polarization and expose various elements of intersectionality. Yet they may have been speaking too casually. Recommending that the politis should shun and even curse what congenitally requires individual contribution is a disgrace. Of course, there are occasions and settings better suited for paltering of this kind; a banal and platitudinous fact that is rehearsed far too often for my liking. Once again, censorious and cowardly behaviour are not only exalted but encouraged by those who admire civic irresponsibility and insularity. There is an antidote to this affliction, one that is easily accessible should an objective perception of reality be taken. 

If you assume, rather rationally, that politics are by definition divisive and sectarian, the consequential fright and shock are neutralized. Sobriety allows us not only to experience our dissent realistically, but perhaps even to enjoy the resulting chicanery. 

The stool-pigeons and sops who have advocated and enthusiastically practiced political correctness have fallen prey to their own constrictive vices. Being so recommending of Orwellianism and censorship has exacerbated the state of their already poverty-stricken vocabulary. Thus, the patented leftist recipe of combined verbal-blacklisting and unlettered simplicity have resulted in the all too foreseeable and pathetic catastrophe; using words where they don't belong. Ironic, seeing that is the very crime of which they accuse those whose opinions are unappealing to them. 

Everyone recognizes the natural absurdity of demanding people to eviscerate their lexicon; especially to safeguard the hurt feelings of individuals who were brave enough to conquer their tragedy in the first place. It's an insult to a wheel-chair ridden chap to presume that he can survive depression, drastically adapt his lifestyle, confront a myriad of new limitations and obstacles, but that he draws the line at using the wrong adjective to describe his inert legs. Hopefully I wasn't too abrasive in assuming that my fictional character's gender was male; then again, the washroom to which he assigns himself may dictate otherwise.  

I would like to think that our handicapped demographic has more courage and self-respect than to allow the sensitivity police to ventriloquize their nomenclature needs. Particularly from the activists who think that being politically correct is anything other than using words which best convey your social and economic allegiances. Expecting questions of governance and wealth distribution among the pubic to be universal in response is asinine; mandating people to speak in a unilateral tone after discovering that plain fact, is pure folly. 

Come over to the dark side. Our language is much clearer and brighter - capable of enlightening your lugubrious and querulous hearts both intellectually, and morally. 

Signed,

Darth Hadrianus 

Rape of Reason: The Eternity of Our Discontent

Racial Misappropriation: The Rights of Objectivity - A Critique of Neo-liberal Politics

As will be evident to some of you, I have borrowed my title from Thomas Paine's Rights of Man. Not only to remind us all of the fairness and correctitude to which every honest person is entitled, but to preserve the sanctity of political equity and to ensure that the free press maintains some sense of ethics in its dissemination of knowledge. 

In one of my recent city escapades, I found myself falling prey to the efforts of the advertising campaigns that I have repeatedly scorned. Written on a poster hoisted just above the median of the subway tracks read the following: "What do you call a Muslim woman who flies an airplane? - A pilot." This boring and cliched attempt at anti-joke solemnity and righteousness were enough to disappoint me, yet the worst had yet to come. Written somewhat stolidly and aridly underneath in fine print was "Racism stops here." Simultaneously, I felt one of the most potent mixtures of contempt, nausea, and disbelief that I have ever experienced. Bear in mind, comrades, that I own and have read the Book of Mormon.

I am sorry if the following salad of letters sounds like I am spelling this out for you, but since it is so obviously and readily taken for granted, I feel compelled to not only scrutinize what has been deemed to be inscrutable, but to sneer at it. For the last time, Islam is not characterized by race; it is not a religion of the brown-skinned oppressed, let alone a liberation theology for those who are politically and morally subjugated. Albania, Bosnia Herzegovina, Turkey and Lebanon are just a few examples that come to mind to subvert the idea of a complexion-based faith. In addition, seeing as the left is so concerned with respecting the religion of peace, they ought to know, that any effort to make sects and denominate the faith by tribe contradict its fundamental tenets. The chapter and verse currently escape me, but a quote not unlike the following reads in the Qur'an: "behold, we have made you in different likenesses and appearances that you may recognize each other". Consequently, to separate Muslims as a part of one ethnicity undermines Islam's claims to universality. As such, sectarianism (which is palpably and ironically ignored by the schools of Sunni, Shia, and Sufi) is by definition profane. If you are so encumbered with the task of protecting this alleged cringing and defenseless Western minority, it may be an aid to familiarize yourself with its dogma. Although, intellectual dishonesty seems to be a newly confected virtue among neo-liberals; not unlike the tawdry appeal of faith ipso facto. 

Aside from how the mullahs in Iran treat the people and how the youth (who comprise nigh 50% of the population) hate them, languishing in their desires to simply be able to hold someone's hand in public who isn't an immediate relative, there remains the necessity for investigation of politically and historically Islamic depravity and crime against the Americas. If you think Shia Islam mistreats its own faith-based adherents, imagine what it has in store for you.

Between the decades of 1750 to 1820, it is estimated by historians that upward of 1.5 million European and American slaves were captured by members of the vulgarly labelled "barbary states" - today known as Tunisia, Algeria, Morocco, and Libya. When Thomas Jefferson and James Madison visited the shores of Tripoli in 1788, seeking an ounce of rationality or justification for North Africa's behavior, the clerics' chilling response declared "because the Qur'an says we can. You are infidels, fit to be treated as cattle and beasts of burden." A flotilla was deployed in retaliation to this wickedness, and the Muslims fleets were attacked. It also worth mentioning, that prior to these events the nascent United States of America had had no quarrel with the Islamic world. A sentiment that cannot be echoed today.

Ordinary reason and sincerity are repulsed by the intellectual laziness, mendacity, and hysteria fueled by mob opinion and the media at large. Do not be dissuaded by repeated appeals to pathos and pseudo-intellectual movie-theatre commercials in social discourse. This is a mental surrender, and a surrogate for the illogical values that have depredated our planet since time immemorial, ad nauseam. Don't be a hypocrite, my fellow skeptics and disbelievers. See through the thin veil of benevolence that emotional politics purport to offer, and demand truth ubiquitously. 

Thanks,

A disgruntled adeist