I Will Not Die

Forget all the trite little sayings about the advantages of being profound. If they were really that profound, they’d sink in and make major differences in your life beyond the initial little spasm of mental activity that accompanies them when you first hear them.

What the hell am I talking about?

[blub blub, pours more Scotch]

What I have in mind are sayings like “think outside the box,” “keep an open mind,” and “waste not want not.”

Actually, the last one has nothing at all to do with what I’m writing about. (I stole that joke from Paul)

No but really. Thinking outside the box is great! Yeah! We’ve been saved!

“So hey guys! You have any ideas yet?”

“Guys?”

Why profundity is your last, best hope

Ok it’s not your last hope, you could, after all, find a bag o’ cash floating in the ocean. Barring that (and assuming you would even dare keep such a heinous artifact), it is your best hope. Remember follow the follower? We’re not always very imaginative creatures, you know? Of course, this makes perfect sense. The guy who tried to cross the gorge by leaping because he thought it was the creative solution when every other gorge required a bridge to be built first sent us down the path of Forever Cautious.

You go first.

The simple answer? Distinguish utterly stupid from profound. Profound ideas don’t have to result in death or bankruptcy. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that because some profound things have turned out badly (ok, a lot of them have), we develop a resistance to all things profound. (Also, see skepticism below).

But the scary bastard of the truth here is that looking where everyone else has been looking is going to lead to solutions that won’t make any real progress.

Think how profound this was. Fabulous idea. Can it be repeated? Um, not so much. Seriously people, stop it. So some profound ideas work great, repeating them can be tough, and some are just really bad in the first place.

In the end, the big lesson is this: big gains in life come from big ideas. The defining projects of the great achievers that catapulted them to the status of idols were always in some way remarkably profound, but coming up with profound ideas about where to go in life isn’t a very natural thing to do. What you usually end up doing is checking in on your friends to see what they’ve been up to. This is a great start, because it gets you going, it lets you see things you might not see on your own, but eventually, you’ve got to be the one who squeezes the Meisterwerk out of you. You’ve got to do the profound.

Taking your thinking out of the domain of normalhood and into profound territory isn’t as easy as the phrases that say you should are to say, and here’s why:

We people-things like sturdy things

We want conviction damn it! We’re the people who build steel skyscrapers for crying out loud. Skyscrapers! You see? Don’t you see the profundity in that?

No really, we like solid, sturdy things. But that tendency for solidness is a trap for any of us who want to escape the sturdy, boring, uninteresting lives. What is it that we do? We get an inkling about where we want to go, then we go looking for role models. When we find them, we try to replicate. There’s a wonderful sense of solidness in knowing your treading on ground that actually led someone else to the place you want to go.

“How do I know this bridge will take me? Because it took that guy!”

We’re almost all skeptics at some level

And boy has skepticism done wonders for us. “Hi there scary snake! What nice fangs you have there!” The early Homo Sapien drunk beer buddy who watched his friend writhe on the ground with two small holes on his forearm could have been the very first skeptic, you never know. Hence the phrase, “like hell” was born.

But at the root of skepticism lies the obstacle that defines it: failure. It’s easy and truthful to acknowledge that most things in the world just don’t work. In order to avoid coming up with ideas that will fail, the easiest way is to just never come up with any ideas. In fact, let me tell you how to be completely perfect:

Don’t ever do anything.

That way, your skepticism will always be justified. That way, nothing you will ever try to do will ever fail. In fact, here’s a cool little homework project. Do what I just said to do for an entire life, and the whole while be fully skeptical that doing anything unordinary will succeed. Then, at the end of a life, let me know how many things you did resulted in the failure that your skepticism said you would fail at.

Dream baby, dream!

Dream! Fill your head with an endless supply of ridiculous, nonsensical ideas. Like that dream I had where my wife was upset because, for whatever reason, she insisted on using cheap damp toilet paper to clean carpets. Do you have any idea how this helped us with chores? Do you? Ok, it was a disaster.

You have to cast out to un-fished territory. You have dream of endless and crazy ideas. Massage them, make them rational, turn them into pragmatic ideas. Work with them until they become something meaningful and useful. Start with wild initiatives and employ them as fringe utilities.

With an eye to profundity

But the biggest problem with not so profound sayings on how to be profound is that we rarely really own the ideas. Profundity is an idea outside of ourselves. We’re never really in the box we’re told to think outside of. It’s an abstraction. It’s a thing over there. It’s a tool we never use in a drawer we never open. We want someone else to be profound for us.

Do you own it?

I mean, do you really own it? Is profound thinking the hidden unused tool in the shed, or is like your wristwatch on your, …wrist? Is the thought of new idea generation your constant companion wherever you go? Is it a part of your character? Is coming up with ideas the way people you know would define you, if given the chance?

Give them the chance.

Wrack your brain. Press the limits of your imagination. Make thinking about new ways to old problems an obsession, of sorts. Make it the first and last thing you think about each day. “What else can I try? That didn’t work, well how about this? Ok that was silly, but what about this?”

Do you always have an eye to the profound?

Dereck :: Sep.04.2008 :: Growth, Perspectives :: 10 Comments »

The other day I talked about the advantages of having an open worldview, a worldview that wasn’t restricted to a worldview. While I didn’t name it as such, that kind of worldview is a sort of non-worldview, or an anti-worldview. It is non- and it is anti-, not because it isn’t a kind of worldview in an objective sense (as in the simple answer to the question, “How does one view the world?”), but rather, it is non- and it is anti- because it is unlike most of the worldviews that are practiced. In other words, it non- and it is anti- in a historical sense (as in the answer to the question, “How have people viewed their world?”).

In short, my worldview is a worldview because it’s a way of defining how I view the world, but it’s not a worldview because it differs from all the other worldviews–if when we think of worldviews, we have all the historical worldviews in mind, this isn’t one of those.

One last thing before I get started. In that other post, after the ensuing discussion in the comment thread, I now have the impression that I could have alienated some readers that I essentially debated with, readers that are my friends. I hope I did not. It turns out that what I said about science didn’t corroborate with everyone’s worldview. Just like that, this article and this worldview may not corroborate with everyone’s worldview. This brings to mind something I dislike about plenty of articles I read: the author presents a view, then asks the audience to swallow. My aim is somewhat different. I’ll still present a view, but I’m not asking anyone to swallow it. Just look at it. If anyone does decide to swallow, I hope it won’t be because I asked them to, but rather, because they saw something appetizing.

Incidentally, at work the other day, a coworker of mine told me about her religious views, and asked me about mine. When I told her I was an atheist, her eyes got narrow. I am an enemy. Another coworker quickly approached our conversation, suddenly very interested. He said, “Ah, so you’re an evolutionist.” I said, “Uh, sure.” He actually shook his head and sighed. The female coworker said a few things, most of which came out sounding absurd. First she said, “Well that makes sense, you’re smart.” Think how absurd that sounded to me. She, while indicting me for my atheism suggested that it made sense that I was, given that she perceived me as smart. The implication is that she might think dumb people are religious. I’m not sure if she knew what she was saying. She then said that her beliefs were based on faith, and that it made sense that I was not religious because I seemed like someone who needed to know the whys and the hows, that I needed to see and to touch those things that I am going to believe in. To me, again, this sounded absurd. Sure, I like to utilize the things I see in my mirrors, and what I see in front of me, and what I hear while I drive my car. To drive my car on faith would result in my getting into an accident. The male coworker said that I shouldn’t believe in evolution because it’s not something that can be replicated in a lab. Eh? But creationism can be? Again, I’m not sure if we knew what he was implying.

So what’s my point? Their worldview involves hostility for dissimilar worldviews. My worldview maintains abundant tolerance of other worldviews because I understand and accept the origins of those worldviews. I know what Christianity is (and monotheism generally, and religion generally), where it came from, how it’s a part of human history and I know most people are born right into it, instead of choosing it as an objective choice at some point later in life. Being intolerant of religion is as rational as getting upset because there are mountains on this earth, when in reality, mountains are just part of the terrain. But my biggest point is this: I don’t harbor negative feelings for religion itself, or religious people. I want to make that clear before I embark on the explanation of my worldview, a worldview where religion is wholly absent.

I’d like to hold up visibly and early on that above all else, I am a gentleman. You’ll soon see that it’s my worldview that demands it.

Let’s get started. Just about everyone in the West grows up in some kind of a religious setting. I certainly am no exception. My parents were Methodists. Their views were very conservative, even outside of political views. I was ingrained with the notion that there was another force in the universe, a watchful eye, an entity, a something. As I matured intellectually, I began scrutinizing those beliefs. I am naturally inquisitive. That inquisitiveness eventually outweighed the religious instructions not to inquire about the fundamental matters. I was taught that to be skeptical of God was to be sinful. But when you’re just dying to get into the pool in front of you, even when you’re told just how cold the water really is, it only takes a few dips with your toe before you start to have doubts about its purported temperature.

What did me in was my affection for the purity of logical answers. Mathematical correctness just always felt good, and so, after scrutinizing all the things that were taught to me about religion, and finding nothing logical about them, I started really gaining doubt. Once I started studying philosophy, I learned just how much the question of religion weighed on the minds of the great thinkers. They always persisted in the activity of seeking the truth. I admired that because in all religious questioning, somewhere along the line, you end with, “you just can’t know, you must just believe, you must have faith.”

But just saying what was not here didn’t complete my worldview. I wanted to know, besides what wasn’t here, what was here, I wanted to know how to comprehend the world, not just what not to comprehend. For that, the only fully digestible definition came from an interpretation of interpretation of Nietzsche. In this book, the author identifies Strauss as having identified Nietzsche’s identification of “the fundamental fact” that “Everything that is is the will to power.” Now because this blog isn’t a philosophy blog, and because I’m not sure I could serve the idea any good by delving into any details, I won’t go into the depths of it. However, I think enough can be used by the phrase in general that will allow you to grasp my worldview, so I’ll just use that phrase to illustrate what its implications are for my life and how I live.

I comprehend the world as “what you see is what you get”. But what is it that we see? What is it that we get? Everything is the will to power. Everything. What I ended up liking so much about this “ontology” was that it answers everything about everything. Suddenly there was no question that could not be answered. Everything is comprehensible. It explains why politics works, why athlete’s make so much money, why some people are rich and why others don’t have a pot to piss in, why lots of gifted people fail at everything, why lots of ungifted people succeed at everything, and a million more things that can sometimes seem inexplicable. There are no more phantoms. It’s not about political accidents, misguided idol worshipping, injustice of poverty and wealth and it’s not about being gifted or not. It’s just about the will to power. Winning an election is the will to power, becoming a basketball star is the will to power, having money is, and succeeding regardless of giftedness are all the will to power. There are no accidents, there is no luck in the sense of orchestrated fate or destiny.

A simplistic analogy could be imagining the world as a room filled with bouncing ping pong balls of different sizes going at different speeds. The world is a giant causal nexus. Everything in that world might be viewed as sometimes small, sometimes large, individual wills to power. Everything has a kind of mass, and a kind of velocity and they are exercising their will to a state of power.

What are the implications of a worldview like this? They are many. It means that in one sense, there is no rhyme, no reason. But, because there is no external rhyme or reason, suddenly it’s your rhyme, it’s your reason. The biggest gain from a worldview like this is that everything that is good in this world becomes your offspring. Everything is your own. Nothing is given to you. Take love, moral conduct, even life purpose. Love is not something external to you. It’s not something “out there,” it’s not something a god has given the Earth. The only way love can come to be, is if you yourself love. There is no moral standard or code in the universe that can reward you for good behavior. There is no karma. Your moral conduct is yours. Purpose in life? It’s whatever you want to make of it. There is no setting to which you should aspire to reach, only the setting to which you yourself decide you want to try to reach. This worldview places the entire responsibility of your life, your conduct, your actions and your attitudes squarely on your own two shoulders. You are the master of your days.

This worldview also answers all the questions about your life that you might have. If you wonder why you don’t seem to have the energy to get up and go, it’s because you have a low will to power. If you’re stagnant in life, feeling like you’re not going anywhere, it’s because you have a low will to power. However, there’s unbelievably good news that comes with this worldview. You can, to a limited degree, express a greater will to power. When you do decide to get up and really try to accomplish something, you’ll be doing it because you want to will more power. You won’t have to do it because piety dictates that you should, you won’t have to do it because you think you’ll get a reward handed to you by something external, the reward is yours. The reward will just be more power.

It also explains resentment and awe. We look up to those who have done great things because we see it as a power. However, lots of people resent those who have more will to power because the greater will to power in the other person shows their lesser will to power. Like I said, this is just some general, diluted things to think about (but I warned you once about this). If you want to delve into the idea in much better ways than I can do here, you can buy that book or start studying philosophy (or start a topic in the forum and we can discuss it endlessly).

In truth, I’ve been secretly sprinkling little pieces of this understanding throughout this blog, like here, and here, and here, and especially here, and others too, and interestingly, these have been, by a landslide, the least read articles written.

So that’s my worldview.

Dereck :: Aug.30.2008 :: Perspectives :: 14 Comments »

You want to be right, right?

For all the good things that come from having a well grounded, solidly convicted worldview (something that shows itself as often lacking in enough people so as to make it in some circles almost a rare substance altogether), there’s also a nasty little devil of a thing that comes with them. Worldviews, so they seem to me, are often used as the primary starting point from which most conclusions about everything are made, instead of being used the way they should be used, which would be as measurement of whether the conclusions made are satisfactory after the fact. Did you follow all of that?

Before I unravel with you, that dense little knot of a paragraph, let me make an extremely bold assessment:

A vast majority of the misgivings of this world have, at their roots, the fault of being grounded, from square one, in faultiness. In other words, the misgivings of this world are rarely “ideas gone wrong” or events that made a “turn for the worst” but rather, are birthed from original cells of incorrectness. They were all doomed.

This article, should I get it even about right, will be my short guide to those who aspire to never get things wrong, to never let their ideas and actions fall victim to doom.

Are you ready? Good.

All forms of human enlightenment are related to a blessed conception that has a sort of scientific rigor as a traveling companion.

In the long run, scientific consensus is always correct.

What I am not encouraging you to do right now is to make too rash of an effort to modify your worldview at this precise moment so as to make it somehow available to a scientific companion. If I did that, I’d be installing the same cells of incorrectness that I am arguing against. I’d be dooming you to doom. Science as a permanent companion will ultimately deconstruct the most passionate things of this world. It would be completely morally irresponsible of me to accidentally install that notion, so we must proceed delicately.

The test, would be this:

When you come to a tentative conclusion about something, do you dismiss it when it falls short of conforming to your worldview?

If so, then you’re building your entire future on the assumption that the premise you are using, your worldview, trumps all conclusions.

Now that’s bold.

In the shortest version possible: your beliefs outweigh your evidence.

And that, should handily summarize the awesome power of human mental wiring. What this means is that we are built almost entirely on the notion that we, at least want to be, right. And that’s a hell of a good start. But that nature is the most corrupting thing, because it assumes correct premises. Is that wiring able to be short circuited? Hell yes. Just cross the green one with the blue one.

As an alternative, one that will make you smarter and less often incorrect, have a conscious effort close at hand to have, instead of bedrock worldviews that are un-malleable that bend the tentative conclusions you find throughout each day, malleable worldviews that are open and flexible to the possibility of newly encountered bedrock conclusions.

Dereck :: Aug.26.2008 :: Perspectives :: 11 Comments »