Saturday, April 11, 2009 @9:40 PM
Hello Shao! I shall answer you here, shall I not.
Affection, ah! Is that not the purpose of reading? What point is there in reading a book if it has not the slightest effect on one? Does reading fiction not make you flighty? Does reading Science not make you technical?
And again, does the other side of the hill not inspire curiosity? Does a single objective viewpoint really satisfy one? Is one really content, knowing that on the other side is another untouched wealth of knowledge?
That is what it takes. Neutrality! If one is even slightly affected by either argument, one has lost it. If one tilts the coin in either direction, one is blind to what is on the other side. Neutrality, a double-edged sword, enables the learned to appreciate both sides of the world, and causes the short-sighted to see neither.
For I was always of opinion that it is our duty, as intellectuals, to see both sides of the coin, especially in this society spurred by wealth and position. It is our obligation to observe and study both sides of a coin, the knowledge of both worlds; for the too-wealthy see only the coin, and the too-poor have no coin to see.
What one must strive towards is not maturity, dear friend, but rather, understanding. If an apple matures but never grows sweet, it will not be plucked by the sensible hand, nor eaten to quench another's thirst. A child knows more about innocence than a sinner; a teen knows more about pleasure than an aged fool. What then, is maturity?
In reading such works one almost never has the intention to understand the author, but rather finds the passion in understanding oneself. To read a sentence and say to oneself, 'Ah, that is true!' or 'I have felt this!'. To find oneself in words, to discover oneself in language. To have someone explain oneself to one, to uncover things one never thought was there. The true treasure trove of one's life; that is oneself.
After all, the only books worth reading are the controversial ones. Reading something good is dreadful preaching to oneself, reading something neutral bores one to death; reading fiction deceives oneself, reading history reminds one of Time, reading Science makes one too practical. Philosophy, thinking; that is what remains relevant to the thinking, yesterday, today and tomorrow, and it is in books of controversy can one truly rediscover what one tries to hide under thick layers of skin.
After all, does the child in each of us not find pleasure in what society forbids us to do? Do we not still extract happiness in danger, in 'truly living'? Do we not walk on tightropes, cycle without helmets, abandon paperwork for pleasure every once in a while, simply because society forces us to do otherwise?
I hope you understand what I've been writing so far, I seem to understand that writing in Philosophy is quite out of reach of some readers. Why, as is the difference between the students of Literature and the students of Math or Science, so is the difference between Philosophy and Fiction; one realm or the other. To step into Philosophy, one must first stop believing in happy endings.
But here; here is my basis that evil is instinct in man. Even as a child, the very semblance of innocence, before society hardens or melts the mask of social inhibition. What girl can claim that what she has been denied, she would grow envious? and what boy can claim that he would try to snatch it away? Would a sister not grow jealous of the love of a newborn, or grow greedy of earthly possession? When does a brother not scream of wrath, and stink of sloth? Is the child most innocent because he is honest, or because the adult has more than the added stench of lust and pride?
And what then, is conscience? Is it half of the mind, or a separate entity? Is the mind a precisely divided battleground of good and evil, or are the angels and demons merely external voices in objection, from which we have our whole mind to decide for ourselves? Is conscience our master, or are we?
Ah, I grow tired of inquiries. The only people worth conversing with are they who know nothing, or everything.
And I am quite proud to express my neutrality; I know neither.