Modern Skepticism, Attempt At Reconciliation

Skepticism. No word has gained a worse reputation in a short amount of time. The expression started a long time ago, with good prospects, high hopes. Greece, I think. Yet there it is now, sinking like a stone...

What it truly means to feel skeptical as "in doubt" of people or ideas I think every person alive knows. It is an intrinsic part of being human to have the feeling, that something is wrong, "off", a certain fact, an idea, maybe even a generally considered truth. Similar to a sense of foreboding - when you think something bad is about to happen - it can be quite overwhelming. 

That's why I'd like to define skepticism as a state of feeling, not being, because unlike the philosophical movement, it is not a product of thorough thought or opinion formation - no, feeling skeptical is typically what happens before that process starts, maybe even the foundation for it. Theoretically, you could remain in skepticism mode for a longer time period, but people usually don't. Same as with feelings of premonition, it is a state of mind that passes once the occasion, the trigger for it is gone.

A world pandemic is a substantial occasion for skepticism, because not only does the virus target our lives, the safety measures to contain it challenge our ways of living. And the truly agonizing part is, that we can't escape the situation, and the complete control it exerts on all of us.

Some say these feelings of lacking control are justified, others say, they are excessive, and a small price to pay for all our physical health. Whatever your position on it may be, the fact is, that at the moment, many people feel confined, trapped, and that feeling is real and needs to be taken seriously. 

Confinement usually starts when someone's personal freedom is in some way limited, controlled, watched over, even a public topic of discussion. "How to sneeze" is a new etiquette, same as not showing one's nose and mouth in confined spaces. "Not be too many" is a hard rule to follow, maybe the hardest. I think, this may be the one linked to skepticism the most.

I have a suspicion, that at its core, skepticism is a direct result of feeling confined. Societal normalcies like being close to each other, hugging or talking to someone while seeing their face are tumbling right now. People are afraid to stand too close, thus, we as a people, feel separated from our own tribe. But the tribe is our history, our existence, our everything. It has always been the solution, not the problem. It has been the most basic human need ever since we stepped out of the mud and decided to live on dry land. So, feeling skeptical, when our world is turned upside down, is a completely understandable reaction.

Too symbolic? Oh, well.

It may take crazy turns once we decide to "side" with Covidtruthers, ProCovidmeasurists or anyone, who, motivated by a feeling of skepticism, is loud and opinionated. These are not tribes we can rely on, but a mere "signaled" affiliation to some people we feel close to in our shared anxiety. And we feel the need to attach to someone, something, during this crisis. So what can we do?

I don't know. We need to try and get through it, somehow, and let the feeling run its course. Usually, what happens after skepticism is opinion formation. Let it be based on facts not fear. Don't let fear overrun your thoughts. This may sound simplistic, but you just tell your fears to shut up for a minute. "Shut up fears, while I check these facts." These fears will be much quieter, once you've collected your information.

Let me just say this: we belong to one tribe, all of us, even the loud obnoxious ones, who seem to be on the opposite side of what you feel is right. Don't let anyone or anything drive a wedge between you and someone else. We all share the same anxieties, we are all afraid. We all want to survive this, and there are no two sides to beating this virus. Let's just agree that separation is not the answer, neither to the virus, nor to the feelings we have concerning this matter.

And speaking of an enemy image: this virus is more than enough, so we really don't need any fights amongst ourselves. Let's just try and kick its ass instead. 

Activism Part IV

I now find it ridiculous, stupid, useless, even dangerous. Activism that is, --activism as in promote, impede, direct. As you may remember, I was quarreling with the whole concept of Activism through Parts ->I to ->III, trying to find the right angle to it, and dealing with people bustling around me. Now I don't anymore. This parental unit is proudly sitting on the couch, two cheeks fast asleep. Lazy. Still useful to some extent, but not in a world-changing manner, more in a "I'm watching you" kind of way. I'm eating while I write this. That's how useful I am. Sitting. Eating. Writing. Wow, that is some world-class multitasking, my friends!



Sometimes I think about what would happen if I weren't able to pay my bills - I imagine scenarios that result in me being in the gutter, and what I would do, that kind of thing. I consider that the everyday worries of human beings. DNA-wise, there's not much difference between a homeless person and Taylor Swift, besides varying degrees of busybodyness. I wouldn't call thinking about social decline as being stricken with sorrow, since those are concerns that move around aimlessly in (I'm guessing) everyone's head.

But now there's the extravagant stuff. Stuff, humans care about and put it in big letters on the magnet board next to the fridge, because those things presumably define them as a person, most of all a social media person of interest. Hah, and aren't those some wonderfully abstract things to worry about: climate change, pollution, sustainability, which by the way has quickly turned into my number one rage word. Things, world, possibly all that exists needs to endure. Because we want it to. Why does it always have to be so exotic?



I find that people are on a mission of self-denial. They're thinking big and I find that disturbing. Why can't you start small, damnit? It is quite arrogant to want to save a whole planet. What kind of a narcissistic ass starts with the big one? Don't you work your way up towards the big dreams anymore? Go clean up your room, do your taxes, whatever, and if you're still thinking big, why not try not to die of cancer next? That's pretty big, too. That should be a main concern on your way to saving everything. If the whole Lemmy-Bowie-Rickman incident has taught us anything, it is that our number one concern should be our immediate survival. Not on a large scale, but on a very small, singular scale. Don't die, you! Everyone's ass is on the line here, so please make yourself sustainable. The world may not need you, but you need you. What else is there to worry about?

Guilty! Pleasure!

What, Mesdames et Monsieurs, does a guilty pleasure consist of? Wikipedia says it is something one enjoys despite feeling guilty for enjoying it. It's an activity that entails both a feeling of joy and shame, pleasure and pain. Those two complement each other rather well don't you think? 

I guess everyone who ever managed to eat a whole cake all by his or her lonesome knows the horribly wonderful feeling. As you're happily eating away, frosting to bottom, the feeling of shame usually doesn't set in until later. But once it arrives, that moment you find yourself staring at the empty platter with a few small crumbs left, it hits you, and it hits you hard, and that is what I am talking about. 

Unlike binge eating cake, the guilty pleasure I am referring to is an indulgence of brain more than it is one of stomach. Correction: lower part of brain. Shame is a big part of it, fueling the dangerous enjoyment/~embarrassment conglomerate. I am somewhat embarrassed to admit to it in writing; my rabbi should know about it, the weird and kinky that says so much about me that I don't want anyone to ever find out. It makes me feel deviant, and oh so low on the human scale that I would even enjoy such a thing... 

But I have to come clean at some point. There is some other questionable stuff I like, despite my better judgement. Let's get the other stuff out of the way, and ease into it. I like reading the Bild Zeitung (tabloid equal to The Sun), and I like that they write stuff like cars, banging into one another on the freeway. The reports are refreshingly un-journalistic and lecherous, openly affiliating news to sensationalism.

I like junk food, the extra greasy kind. I like eating salad with the salad cutlery, and drinking salad dressing with the ladle. Oh, and cake. I like all kinds of things that are supposedly bad for your health, things that make you fat and stupid. 

But it's not in the same category as admitting to that other thing, the dark spot on my conscience. Admitting that I like The Jungle Camp is as good as a full confession that I'm a murderer. Because this program, no matter how you look at it, is definitely killing something. And unlike junk food it is without any hidden nutritional value. I would feel much better and healthier if I didn't like it, but there is something about it that I just can't resist. 

It's not that different from reality shows such as Survivor, but with d-list celebrities suffering the horrors of being publicly humiliated for the camera. And I'm right there to watch them starve and make a fool of themselves. Those poor suckers do it for the money, or fame or whatever sad reasons. But hey, they are not the ones to blame here. Those sick weirdos in front of the TV, however, are. 

The concept of the show is not that different from the idea of slaves being used as humanoid torches in ancient Rome, except that the contestants on TV are burnt slower and more painfully. The modern version of panem et circenses (bread and games) is less lethal, but then again nowhere near as humane as having the relief of sweet sweet death in your near future. So why would I even like this piece of junk, me and 7 million (!) other viewers? 
Tell me. Is it morally acceptable to enjoy watching a daily broadcast of torture? I don't think so.