Our Schizophrenic Republic

The conservative critique of government is rooted in a Feudalistic notion of property. The point of self-governance is to wrestle property rights away from the encroachment of the king. The king has been dethroned, of course, but the tools of royal coercion still exist in a nefarious and nebulous concept of “the government” which stands over and above the actual forms in which self-government takes place. It’s not a well-thought out idea, more of a visceral reaction. “The government” in this sense is viewed as a distant, foreign, and at times, occupying force. Peculiar, since the anti-government symbolism coexists rather easily with a strong sense of nationalist pride.

The problem is this leads to the destructive habit of cherry-picking. When the government does something I agree with, this is good and right. In what sense? In the confused sense that the people will’s was truly expressed through the principle of self-governance. Similarly, when “the government” does something I disagree with, this is not only bad and wrong, but an attack on the very principle of self-government. Worse, it was undertaken without my consent. Therefore, by definition, it is a violation of the principle of self-government. Other minds will go further, uncovering secret plots and conspiracies rather than the more obvious reason of majority rule.

The schizophrenic view of government is often expressed as a difference between a democracy and a republic. Whether such a distinction ever made sense at any point in history, today it is certainly a meaningless distinction. Modern governments are inherently complex systems requiring a level of organizational and administrative operation that is largely immune from direct democratic rule. As populations grow, as economic activity expands, as social interactions evolve in increasingly sophisticated ways, governments will naturally grow. Those who dream of shrinking government by starving it of revenue seem oblivious to this fact. A government can be both complex and efficient. It can also be small and invasive. Levels are never a good way to measure any system.

The Only End

This was the inevitable conclusion to this tragic farce. The man with the sad clown face (let us no longer speak his name anywhere but in a courtroom or a jail). He was always a cancer. Everything he touches, he destroys. Family, business, faith, hope, love, laughter, all consumed by his cancerous soul. The second negative partisanship coupled with an over-reliance on geographical boundaries brought him into power and ushered in a four-year struggle, the choice was simple. Either the Republican Party would be destroyed or America. I take no pleasure in warning of this danger, of being “right”. The time for reasoning with the other side has long since past. Everything has been directed at one result. America would survive. That was my choice and the choice of 81 million strong. Everything was designed to contain this cancer from consuming our country.

The cancer is now destroying the Republican Party. To my conservative friends who truly don’t dream of civil war, who do not truly view me or other progressives as our own form of cancer, I offer this advice: let them go. Let Trump and the dark forces that prop him up go and start their own third party. No union is worth sacrificing your conscience.

Lizard People

Politics is personality. Personality is malleable. Personality is destructible. The defining feature of personality is a belief in a self that exists outside time. Sure, I age. But that’s just my body. That’s just time’s effect on me. The real me still exists over and above this ravaging sea of change. Duality, schizophrenia. Otherwise, integration, madness. It’s not a faith in a cause independent of myself, but in the self independent of the world. Not a free will, but a will unto death. Or better still, a will to immortality. Politics is a projection of this inner landscape of turmoil, a futile fight against entropy that thrives off the free energy of another person’s pain and suffering projected back on the world. Let the world burn, if it must. I will remain unscorched.

The point is not to escape madness, but to embrace integration. To discipline our madness, subject it to rigorous proof and demonstration. Keep an open mind. Lizard people? Sure, it’s possible, but is it probable? Seems like a long ladder to climb, up or down. In the meantime, we’ll keep an open mind. Lizard people? Sure, but probably not.

Gun Violence

I don’t own a gun and never will. I would much rather be shot then to ever have to shoot someone. This is called radical pacifism. It is difficult to see the violence we commit everyday to ourselves and to others. The tearing at the seams. We cannot see the person and see only the outline, the abstraction. But this is all an illusion. Groups do not exist. There is no tribe. I promise you, by probability and chance alone, that we will live this same life forever and ever. We will live with each other forever. Murder is absurd in a world of infinite possibilities and finite construction. We do not see this in a world governed by mathematical laws. So, if we cannot escape this hell then we will just have to create heaven here together. It’s hard work. But we have all the time we need to get it right. Know hope.

History Lesson

imageIt’s a truism in political arguments that equating something to fascism puts you on a slippery slope. Let me go skating on ice, lest we think that fascism can never come to America.

Trump is a menace and a threat to democracy. The idea that he can be contained has eerie echoes of Germany on the eve of electing the greatest madman in the world. Hitler was elected in a coalition govt. and Von Papen too was somehow supposed to hold Hitler in check. So what happened?

Germany was not a proto-fascist state before Hitler rose to power. The Weimar was a Presidential Republic. It gave us art, expressionism, nudism, vegetarianism, socialism very liberal stuff. The problem is it had very little support. And this is where history becomes instructive to me. Our respect for the government, civil institutions and political processes are at the lowest they have ever been, and keep heading lower. There is so little respect because we have ratcheted party politics and fratricide to an unprecedented level. The system is under attack from all direction. Revolution is in the air, on both sides. Isn’t this good? Shouldn’t the system fall?

Call me a pessimist (I prefer realist) but I do not share this faith in the separation of powers to constrain our madman Donald Trump. And the reason I don’t have faith is because every day these wise constraints are coming undone. Political discourse has descended into bar fights. Congress members can’t even stand to be in the same room together. People are shut off to other points of view. We have built up a permanent echo chamber, reified, unthinking, founded on blind rage rather than principle. The courts are blatant and naked in their ideology. Tell me there are 2 democrats and 1 republican judge and I lay good money the decision is going to be 2-1. This cynicism is so ingrained so normal that exceptions like the Roberts decision on Obamacare are truly shocking. Presidents no longer feel constrained to bother with Congress when it comes to the conduct of War, and Congress green lights anything anyway, too weak to stand up and reassert their constitutional authority. Our nation, in short has lost respect for American Democracy.

So Trump will be held in check. And I ask, when is our Reichstag fire coming?

A Picture

The picture under my bio is my favorite of me. I like it because it was one of those rare moments in photography capturing a moment of my personality.  Free, wild, funny, playful, contemplative, dreamer. Most of the photos of me, I don’t recognize the person smiling with that painful contorted expression known as the pose. It takes talent not to pose, to dream of something else, to be far away but present. Portraits are for Dreamers, Gods, and Kings. Everything else is fashion modeling.

I like the picture so I use it. I keep thinking I should get a professional photo taken, but will be unhappy with the results. Have I changed all that much in appearance? Why should that matter?

I have used the photo as my profile image on some of those dating websites. It turns out the photo was a source of my success and failure.  The complaint, often read, is that a person should use an up to date photo.  False advertising.  It’s amusing but also sad. The surface, the superficial is the thing most desired: but that’s not how you look now! No, but it’s how I am. I am every bit that person captured in the photo and more. One would find that out if they spent time with me.

Desire and attraction – the only glue that binds us, always receding into the past. It is easily unraveled at the first sign of adversity. The inevitable crisis. We love only after that crisis. Survival forces us to the depths, to find love. Unraveling love is a much harder feat. It requires some deeper cleaving that manages to kill what had once survived together.

It confirms my belief that we do not truly age. Or rather, what we call aging is simply the unraveling / revealing of the past, not the movement of time forward. We have no future, only history. It can’t be otherwise. Otherwise, and we are left with infinities, the absurdity that a body is destroyed each second it passes through time. It leaves no possibility of survival. It is why we have a  physics of motion, but no physics of the substructure of that movement in space-time, not yet anyway.

The picture is the only proof I have of this concept. Not an erasing. Not an elegy, but a living breath. We are not spread across time but linger forever inside its harmonics. We take a superficial view and see in time only death, the killer of souls. We must go deeper, survive this impression of ourselves forever dying. Only then can we build something that endures.

 

 

The Myth of Intersubjectivity

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About a year ago, I reached the painful conclusion that intersubjectivity is a myth. Not from intellectual insight but for deeply personal reasons. A relationship that meant the world to me came to an end. The whys of course are simple. Without love, desire dies.

So it ended, but along with it, this faith in the idea of mutuality, shared experience, collective intentionality, and erotic communion. One can live a lifetime thinking that someone is within someone’s sympathetic orbit only to find that they were an impenetrable island unto themselves.

So where now? What path forward? The island of the other is not as impenetrable as first thought. There are seepages, after all, tiny eruptions of thought, emotion, feeling that break through and combine with your own. There is, in other words, a trace, discovered only in the other’s ABSENCE, their non-being, that this sense of mutuality can be appreciated, if perhaps not consciously understood. Il y a toujours un qui baise et un qui tend la joue. Out of these seepages we construct a portrait of love, a composite of mutually shared affections and infections. But it is deeply intuitive, and deeply unstable, hence all of the madness surrounding Eros. Live long enough with someone, share their mental and emotional state long enough, and these seepages will be strongly apparent.

It is the same intuition that lets you know at the precise moment, the exact second, even when you are separated by hundreds or thousands of miles in distance, when your partner is in the throes of a wild passionate embrace with someone other than you. Not a fear, not a phobia, but an undeniable certitude. This sudden onset of your own desire kindled because the seepage has carried over and penetrated your own. And this is possible because we are describing a space created by pure geometry, a pure mathematical expression prior to form, where space and time are only emergent qualities generated through the incessant laws of thermodynamics and entropy.

But if this is true, then I have no objective frame, no reference, no map to guide me, no up, no down, no forward, no back. No here, no there. There is, in the end, the frolicking play and dissipation of heat. And upon this radiating force, we are asked to construct our idols, palaces, gardens. God could do no better.