I have picked up my Western World Literature textbook, one of two, and have started to reading Plato’s “The Apology of Socrates” and I came across what Socrates had said… that “the life unexamined is not worth living”. I also came acros another saying that I put on my environmental webpage which says “… a man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying: he ought only to consider whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong– acting the part of a good man or of a bad.” I had come across this a couple days ago. I also began to read The Communist Manifesto again for the second time a week ago.
It is funny, the coincidences in life. The woman that I went out with last night wrote a paper arguing against Socrates’ statement about the life worth living and her brother is a Marxist. She was exercising her mind, playing the part of “devil’s advocate” and she briefly went over some of the reasons for her stance. She said that her philosophy teacher didn’t like it… but I absolutely loved it. I don’t talk to that many people and a lot of the time I come to feel that I am the only with a brain, the only one on this planet capable of logical thought. Yes, I do have some intelligent friends that I talk to… but it is not on a daily or even a weekly basis. Sitting with this woman I felt… human. HA! Superman exposed to kryptonite… that’s what I was. I don’t think we ever really got into any sort of debate, we never really played a mental game of chess, a contest of logic and wills. I believe that my invincible stature is under severe threat with this potent woman, and I love it. I keep wanting to get into a debate with her… but I kept forgetting… losing myself in the conversation with her.
Is it wrong to be this… this giddy? Isn’t there something wrong with being… “hopeful”? I sign my emails with “spem semper habemus” meaning “we always have hope”… so why is it that I am so afraid of having any hope? Maybe it wouldn’t be so… scary if she were not so amazing. But she is amazing, she is… wonderful. I feel like I’ve been broadsided here. Yes the skeptic voice is in the back of my mind… the skeptic in me is one of the perverse, irritated, shallow beat types… he is saying “hey man, nothing matters… nothing is real…. everything ends, nothing lasts… we are all ants… we don’t really have feelings, just complexes… just weird social needs because we are lost to the real truth of the world man… and that is that you are ultimately alone and the world couldnt’ care less… getting your hopes up is only the climb to a diving board only the swimming pool has no water in it… better yet it is filled with man eating sharks with just one tooth and so when they bite you it doesn’t kill you but you leak your blood out slowly, slowly until the water turns red and churning from your thrashing body with the sharks.
… why hope… why believe… when it is all a big fucking scam… a fucking lie told to us by midwives and poets.” That is what I can hear the skeptic voice in me saying. But I do have hope. I can’t go on in life believing that any hope for something good is really a desire to leave something bad can I? Can’t I believe that good things can happen for good reasons? If I am running out into a green field, why must I be running out of a burning house?
Hmmmm… I know this to be true. This is a blessed moment. I am happy… and I am hopeful. I can carry that with me to the next minute…