Tag: opinions

  • The Art of Deconstruction

    The Art of Deconstruction

    I’ve watched silently, often with annoyance, how it is that so many are considered to be intellectuals for their ability to tear apart someone else’s argument or contribution. The more effective they are at breaking down an opinion that they disagree with, the more revered they are in some circles. That’s the part that I watch silently. The part that fills me with annoyance is when I see that after all that effort, they have nothing of meaning or substance of their own to contribute.

    The rest that follow such antics applaud the efforts of those vain ones that love the sound of their own voices as they spew their anger disguised as eloquently articulated arguments filled with nothing more than criticism without purpose. The anger is what fascinates me. Always has. Its origins are so deeply protected that most convince themselves that their anger is a justified response to an oppression or an injustice. But they stop there. They don’t consider why that specific injustice or oppression angers them, nor do they consider why anger is their chosen response to it. Instead, their anger defines their contribution and they garner the respect and admiration from those that are equally angry, or are passively aggressively angry. I suspect the latter group is more despicable than the former because they even lack the conviction to be true to their anger.

    Nonetheless, these cycles play out all the time. Often in a public setting, but quietly in a private setting too. It is the private setting that intrigues me most. I find it intriguing because it is where we experience either our power, or our cowardice. When we experience our cowardice, it becomes a priority to judge or criticise the efforts of others to distract attention away from our meekness, hence the deconstruction of the efforts of others to make something of their lives. When we experience our power, our belief in being able to contribute towards the quality of life of others drives us towards contributing towards their efforts to improve their chances of success, because we realise that their success doesn’t threaten our own. But most don’t experience this. Most only see what they think should be done better but rarely (if ever) make an effort to actually do it themselves.

    Pointing out what is wrong with the world is easy. I look at the rhetoric and criticism against those that step up and fight the good fight, and most often that rhetoric or criticism finds its roots in a belief that the quoting of divine scriptures elevates the rank of the critic above that of the rank of the activist. This is yet another ploy to appear pious or spiritually awakened while conveniently ignoring the demand of such spirituality to lead by example.

    When we have a bone of contention with another, it is not our words in fiery criticism against them that is going to convince them to behave differently. It is our act of sincere and meaningful engagement that will hold any sway over their efforts. Either we will convince them of the benefit of our views, or they will convince us of what we may not have considered about their reality. But without this experiential journey, this side-by-side engagement, the reality of the basis on which we disagree will always remain theoretical and food for the ego, rather than genuine contribution or upliftment of the soul.

    Deconstruction is the art of debate, and the art of debate is firmly established in the need to be correct. Debate has never resulted in a sincere pursuit of the truth. That is left to the domain of discussion and contribution. But contribution demands that we offer of ourselves that which we seek to criticise in others. When our opinions define our self-worth, such contribution is far too daunting. Hence the safer path of deconstruction to earn significance from those that are equally frail in their conviction to meaningfully contribute, while the few that appear foolish enough to sacrifice their composure in favour of benefiting others remain a soft target for the whimsical leaders of debate groups.

    I have no respect for the argument that points out what is wrong with someone else’s approach, or philosophy, if it isn’t accompanied by a sincere effort to offer guidance and assistance as well. Having an opinion is easy. It means that you don’t have to do anything except blurt out the thoughts that occur to you as you vegetate in front of your keyboard. Having an informed opinion goes one step further because that vegetation was accompanied by some effort towards fact checking or research. However, even that is inexcusable if not accompanied by actual participation in the process of changing the reality, and not just the perception of an issue that weighs others down.

    Without willing and sincere engagement, an opinion is simply a fart pretending to be thunder. And global warming has ensured that there is no shortage of hot air to go around.

  • Dystopia

    In those moments when purpose is blurred and distractions appeal, life passes by almost unnoticed. It feels like the hamster in the wheel, spinning away and amused at how fast it can go, then looking over and seeing everything that still needs to get done, stepping off for a few brief moments, and suddenly starts wondering what would make the wheel turn faster.

    The wheel that turns is not the wheel that moves us forward. It’s usually the wheel that runs us down and provides some relief from the illusion of stagnation. Or is it the illusion of progress. Ground hog day holds much truth in it, and I’ve often thought of life as being ground hog day. I see myself waking up each morning trying to do things better than I did it the day before. As the days accumulate so too does the list of things I try to do better. Each time I try something that feels new, it turns out to be mostly a combination of many things old. But the new experiences and feelings that accompany the effort provides the needed distraction to keep me interested.

    Trade in that wheel for a tail, or maybe a car, and suddenly I find myself chasing my tail while spinning that wheel in a more luxurious setting. Of course none of this makes any sense because if it did, it wouldn’t be dystopia, would it? Utopia doesn’t exist. We know this to be true, so it stands to reason that dystopia is reality, is it not? According to our friend Google, dystopia is an imagined place or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one. Let’s consider that to be true for a moment and see what it implies for our sanity.

    Everything is as bad or as good as we perceive it to be. We choose to either see the good in it, or we choose to see the bad. Those choices are informed by our experiences and how those experiences made us feel. The more inclined we are to believe that we are able to influence the outcomes, the more likely it is that we will perceive those things as good, and vice versa. But at the core of all this still lies the fact that what is, is, and what we see is what we impose of our perspectives on what is. Make sense yet?

    Let’s consider it slightly differently. We tend to view life in a polarised manner, almost binary in nature. Things are either good or bad. Nothing is ever neutral. More accurately, we never feel truly neutral about something because if prompted to choose between good or bad, we will choose either one. I don’t know of anyone that absolutely fights for their right to be neutral, nor am I certain that that is even possible.

    So back to our perceptions and how we impose that on the situation at hand. If someone argues that the world is turning into a hell hole, someone else could easily argue that there is hope, while another could argue that it’s in fact already a hell hole, while a fourth could argue that it was a hell hole at some point in history and that we’re already improving it as we progress. Every single one of these perspectives could be successfully defended, but by definition, not all could be correct. Unless we consider each within their own context,  in which case each will be equally true.

    So what’s the point? I think it has something to do with who decides what is good or what is bad. Then we look at who has the majority vote, and that prevails as the accepted standard. Anyone that opposes the standard is considered bad even if their perspective is inherently good, but that good cannot be measured as good because the standard against which it is being measured is bad, but is deemed to be good. And so it goes until eventually we realise that dystopia or utopia are simply makings of our own minds. The blue pill, or the red one? It doesn’t matter, does it?

    I don’t think it does. I think that the context that we choose for our perspectives will always define our reality. That reality will never be the true reality, because true reality can only ever be gauged independent of subjective observations, which means that any social standard or system of governance is based on the oppression of the minority and the celebration of normalcy. Therefore, even in upholding justice in such a system, given that justice would be defined against the social standards that have been adopted by the majority, then such justice could very well be injustice, but will not be recognised as such because the accepted authority has defined it to be good.

    This transcends even divine laws within the context of this lifetime because our judgement against the divine laws will only take place in a reality completely detached from this one. That day of reckoning will be independent of our influence, and therefore will be immune to our perceptions. It will simply be.

    Of course not everyone believes in the day of reckoning beyond this lifetime, in which case, if the above argument holds true, it’s all an entire waste of time, and a massive oppression on all involved the moment we try to establish any social order or code of morality or any standard for that matter. Individual freedoms are automatically eroded, and in fact suppressed, the moment we choose order over free expression. Defining any constraints becomes an injustice, and the hope of any true remuneration for our toils and struggles is completely null and void, unless we’re left to act with impunity. But even that won’t work, because the moment we are left to act with impunity, we automatically impose our expression on others, in which case we suppress their expression, assuming we’re the more dominant, or else ours will be suppressed if we’re not the more dominant. Either way, justice in averted and balance, true balance is impossible.

    Dystopia. In the absence of a higher order that we collectively serve, dystopia is all that is possible. But to each their own. Welcome. Don’t make yourself comfortable. This doesn’t last very long even if you insist on inaction, because entropy is your best friend, time is a superficial construct, and balance is based entirely on a combination of perception and subscription by the collective, which inherently cannot be trusted for consistency. I guess that’s a sneak peek into the dystopia of my mind. It’s an exhausting place to be.

  • Society’s Slaves

    People in general will see you as they fear themselves to be, but those with good hearts will see you as they aspire to be. Having been on the receiving end of significant criticism recently, I almost forgot to remind myself of that age old wisdom that says that your actions define who you are, not who I am. And so the same applies with your comments and your criticism.

    It’s rare to find people who criticise sincerely, but more importantly, it’s even more rare to find people who criticise from an informed perspective. Our penchant to want to be proven true about something insightful often leads many to offer their uninformed opinions cloaked in bookish bombast (I’ve always loved that phrase that I know will make people think me to be even more pretentious than before). The truth is, our search for significance drives us towards less than admirable behaviour more often than we’d care to acknowledge, and often even more than we would realise.

    I probably am guilty of much of the pretentiousness that I am accused of, but the truth is, I don’t care since it’s mostly with a deliberate intent. While reflecting on all the criticism that I’ve received lately most of which was subtle and not as overtly obvious as it was intended, I had to remind myself that my inclination to contradict the mainstream is not an adult fetish but rather a trait that has accompanied me and served me well my entirely life. Of course, that is entirely subjective given that many would probably classify me as a recluse, but the truth is, this same attitude of mine is what has seen me through many life threatening and life altering experiences, a fraction of which has literally caused many others to crumble under the sheer burden of it.

    So it’s unlikely that I will choose to change my approach to life, and people any time in the near future, if ever. People have proven to be inconsistent, just like me, because the same way I doubt myself so often, so do they. I guess the burden of being inherently introspective and somewhat socially averse (not to be mistaken for anti-social!) is that it inevitably paints a target on my back that makes me fair game for those seeking to pacify themselves about their own shortcomings and prejudices. But that has had no influence in dissuading me before, and I don’t intend to give it much credence now either.

  • On Opinions and A-holes

    Something I realised this morning, and this may seem like a retarded realisation because it’s so obvious, but I realised that opinions most often reflect the mentality and competence of the person offering it, rather than defining what is being critiqued. It’s obvious that an opinion is simply someone’s point of view about something or someone, but given how often people feel damaged because of the opinions of others, I suspect that like me, many know the truth about opinions but few realise it.

    It’s like knowing that if you touch a hot coal, you’ll burn. But realising how painful that burn is only happens when you actually touch it. Same with opinions. Knowing that someone is an ass-hole for offering an uninformed opinion is one thing, but unless you realise it, you’ll allow that uninformed opinion to negatively affect you. In some cases, it could also lead to you being unrealistically deluded about your supposed greatness if you focus on the positive opinions of others only. 

    Tumblr is opinion heaven! We have undiscovered sages, gurus, geniuses, professors, scholars, legends and so much more. And then we click on their ‘About’ page and we realise that they’re still in high school, or still trying to figure out what it means to live independent of their parents, or worse still, they’re trying to figure out if there’s a life beyond Tumblr! 

    This week I’ve been in a decidedly abrasive mood with many around me. I’ve dumped my considerate tone and disposition in favour of a more frank and in-your-face demeanour instead. It probably won’t last, but at times I think it’s needed because often people take advantage and become lazy to apply their minds if they know that I’m always willing to take the time to explain the same thing over and over again until they eventually get it. So I guess I’m just as opinionated as many others on here. The difference is, most people’s opinions of me are like water off a duck’s back. Like farting against thunder. Like crying in the rain. It has no impact because I have learnt to be very selective about who I take advice or opinions from.

    This has been an opinion by one that many may consider an ass-hole. Not that I care.