28.5.03
So, second entry starts like this.
What if the Matrix was real?
No, no, it's okay, *I* don't think it is, but this dude named Jake Horsley does. Or so he claims.
In his book he talks philosophy, lifestyle choices, the way we straightjacket ourselves into a matrix of negative behavior, which is of our own making if not of the making of some giant AI-style machine.
And he makes some fairly good points, all deeply steeped in Buddhism, of course, because he's a loyal little Neo-phyte.
So, the things I like (which, I will admit, amounts to the things that jive with my skewed perspective on life) are as follows:
We are taught to measure ourselves against outward things, not inward things. How many things do I own? What does this person think of me? Oh god, I must own more things and make more people like me!
And in order to own more things we stick more slavishly to our jobs. We lord our possessions and our property and our social position over others in order to feel better about ourselves and in order to try and fill up the holes inside. We want to have lots of friends, but we never really listen to what they say.
We're empty, and we just keep on conforming.
(Well, I don't. And you don't. And the guy sitting across from you probably doesn't either. But shh, dammit! It's what he says next that I like anyway. Besides, I'm busy judging people.)
We seek to increase the size of our egos, and therefore our sense of self. But we are taught that there must be a finite amount of Ego-Room™. So, battle for your Ego-Room™, boy! Battle! It's a constant conflict. (Much akin to Pokémon, actually. Am I the only one that finds its similarities to cock-fighting disturbing?)
The person who wishes to escape this eternal gladiatorial battle for a sense of self (and a collection of small electronic animals that endlessly repeat their own names), claims Mister Horsley, must give it all up. They must acknowledge that since they are plugged into the matrix, many of their thoughts are fed to them, and are not truly their own, that their sense of self is in fact merely a pacifying construct, and nothing real.
In itself this is all slightly depressing. Great, I get to go through life with no identity, believing nothing is real, and I don't even get an irritating Japanese almost-animal.
But what he says next is what rings a chord and gets me judging people right along with him:
By giving up everything, you are free to appreciate and delight in everything. Because you expect nothing, everything you *are* given is a source of infinite delight. Even the pokémon. Honest.
(So, at the moment, the Becca-meter is hovering somewhere around "Fuck Ego-Room™, I want to laugh!")
This is cool. This is a good philosophy. Pretty much because I think we don't laugh enough, and we don't think enough things are wonderful, and because it jives with my firm belief (as firm as jello, I tell you, when I have to deal with the petty beaurocrats at my university) that everyone is absolutely wonderful and totally intelligent, they just haven't all realized it yet.
So. That was what I liked.
Then we got on to his disturbing vision of Utopia, where we're all free and happy and frolicking in some sort of Nirvana-style Zion.
Not that I mind the frolicking. The frolicking is all good. To be honest, there is a distinct lack of frolicking in this world. What I mind is that I'm supposed to frolic as a part of the Borg.
(The Becca-meter is quickly dropping to 'Grr! Bad Author!')
Okay, maybe not the Borg. But he goes on about how, when free of the Matrix, humanity must function as one. Apparently, there will be no good for the individual that is not good for the whole, that we will all be in harmony, yadda yadda yadda. I'm sure he means it in a very happy benign way. I'm sure that he genuinely means that there will be no conflict because we won't have any egos to *cause* conflict.
But, god dammit, I *want* my ego. I want my sense of self.
He talks about creativity as the source of great wonder and power over the negative elements of our world. He talks about abandoning previously accepted chains of linear thought. Even in the Borg-Frolicking Utopia he seems to think that laughter and a sense of delight are necessary.
But that doesn't get rid of the problem. I might be a delighted Borg, but I'm still a Borg.
(The Becca-meter slips down to 'Humph,' with an upturned nose.)
I guess it's just that something deep inside me (yeah, yeah, my addictive connection to the Matrix, I know) rails against the idea that my creativity comes from anything other than a unique part of myself, or, indeed, that I, or anyone else, is anything other than unique.
Perhaps the poor guy just meant that we can all be unique, but work as one, with complementary creativity, and I'm mouthing off at him for no reason. But when you say, "There is not good for the individual unless it is also good for the whole," the emphasis is just all wrong. You've got me screaming, "But, Jesus H. Christ, man, isn't this just another surrogate Matrix? A human one, sure, but still another chain of command, another non-individual being."
I wanted him to say that once we were free of the Matrix we would miraculously be able to understand that the Ego-Room™ is infinite. That there is no need to be in competition for precious elements of personality and individuality. That we all have infinite room, that we should expand ourselves as we help others to expand. It's not that we need to get rid of our egos, only that we need to understand they aren't in conflict.
But that's what I believe, not what he believes, and it's his book.
This, however, is my blog. This is my Ego-Room™, and I want it.
So stop crowding me, and please don't pet the Pikachu. He bites.
What if the Matrix was real?
No, no, it's okay, *I* don't think it is, but this dude named Jake Horsley does. Or so he claims.
In his book he talks philosophy, lifestyle choices, the way we straightjacket ourselves into a matrix of negative behavior, which is of our own making if not of the making of some giant AI-style machine.
And he makes some fairly good points, all deeply steeped in Buddhism, of course, because he's a loyal little Neo-phyte.
So, the things I like (which, I will admit, amounts to the things that jive with my skewed perspective on life) are as follows:
We are taught to measure ourselves against outward things, not inward things. How many things do I own? What does this person think of me? Oh god, I must own more things and make more people like me!
And in order to own more things we stick more slavishly to our jobs. We lord our possessions and our property and our social position over others in order to feel better about ourselves and in order to try and fill up the holes inside. We want to have lots of friends, but we never really listen to what they say.
We're empty, and we just keep on conforming.
(Well, I don't. And you don't. And the guy sitting across from you probably doesn't either. But shh, dammit! It's what he says next that I like anyway. Besides, I'm busy judging people.)
We seek to increase the size of our egos, and therefore our sense of self. But we are taught that there must be a finite amount of Ego-Room™. So, battle for your Ego-Room™, boy! Battle! It's a constant conflict. (Much akin to Pokémon, actually. Am I the only one that finds its similarities to cock-fighting disturbing?)
The person who wishes to escape this eternal gladiatorial battle for a sense of self (and a collection of small electronic animals that endlessly repeat their own names), claims Mister Horsley, must give it all up. They must acknowledge that since they are plugged into the matrix, many of their thoughts are fed to them, and are not truly their own, that their sense of self is in fact merely a pacifying construct, and nothing real.
In itself this is all slightly depressing. Great, I get to go through life with no identity, believing nothing is real, and I don't even get an irritating Japanese almost-animal.
But what he says next is what rings a chord and gets me judging people right along with him:
By giving up everything, you are free to appreciate and delight in everything. Because you expect nothing, everything you *are* given is a source of infinite delight. Even the pokémon. Honest.
(So, at the moment, the Becca-meter is hovering somewhere around "Fuck Ego-Room™, I want to laugh!")
This is cool. This is a good philosophy. Pretty much because I think we don't laugh enough, and we don't think enough things are wonderful, and because it jives with my firm belief (as firm as jello, I tell you, when I have to deal with the petty beaurocrats at my university) that everyone is absolutely wonderful and totally intelligent, they just haven't all realized it yet.
So. That was what I liked.
Then we got on to his disturbing vision of Utopia, where we're all free and happy and frolicking in some sort of Nirvana-style Zion.
Not that I mind the frolicking. The frolicking is all good. To be honest, there is a distinct lack of frolicking in this world. What I mind is that I'm supposed to frolic as a part of the Borg.
(The Becca-meter is quickly dropping to 'Grr! Bad Author!')
Okay, maybe not the Borg. But he goes on about how, when free of the Matrix, humanity must function as one. Apparently, there will be no good for the individual that is not good for the whole, that we will all be in harmony, yadda yadda yadda. I'm sure he means it in a very happy benign way. I'm sure that he genuinely means that there will be no conflict because we won't have any egos to *cause* conflict.
But, god dammit, I *want* my ego. I want my sense of self.
He talks about creativity as the source of great wonder and power over the negative elements of our world. He talks about abandoning previously accepted chains of linear thought. Even in the Borg-Frolicking Utopia he seems to think that laughter and a sense of delight are necessary.
But that doesn't get rid of the problem. I might be a delighted Borg, but I'm still a Borg.
(The Becca-meter slips down to 'Humph,' with an upturned nose.)
I guess it's just that something deep inside me (yeah, yeah, my addictive connection to the Matrix, I know) rails against the idea that my creativity comes from anything other than a unique part of myself, or, indeed, that I, or anyone else, is anything other than unique.
Perhaps the poor guy just meant that we can all be unique, but work as one, with complementary creativity, and I'm mouthing off at him for no reason. But when you say, "There is not good for the individual unless it is also good for the whole," the emphasis is just all wrong. You've got me screaming, "But, Jesus H. Christ, man, isn't this just another surrogate Matrix? A human one, sure, but still another chain of command, another non-individual being."
I wanted him to say that once we were free of the Matrix we would miraculously be able to understand that the Ego-Room™ is infinite. That there is no need to be in competition for precious elements of personality and individuality. That we all have infinite room, that we should expand ourselves as we help others to expand. It's not that we need to get rid of our egos, only that we need to understand they aren't in conflict.
But that's what I believe, not what he believes, and it's his book.
This, however, is my blog. This is my Ego-Room™, and I want it.
So stop crowding me, and please don't pet the Pikachu. He bites.
