Egalité
At times one feels compelled to venture out on thin ice. The term is used as metaphor to capture the hazard that attends to speaking the absurd, or on the other hand, speaking truth from which one’s fellows are conditioned to turn away. Equality is bedrock to the American experiment, to these United States. Argument is often made that in the time of the great controversy between our North and South, the legal right to own slaves, Lincoln’s overriding conviction was to maintain the Union intact. To serve that end a conception of a half slave and half free nation made no sense. Even Southerners agreed the notion was absurd, and they did insist upon holding their slaves.
Equality, every citizen’s voice counts, to be expressed by the ballot. This is both tradition, practiced since the inception, the founding of our country, and is codified by law. Every four years we conduct the election of the countries CEO, a process of interview if you will.
It is worth noting how much weight was given to having a voice, to the quasi-sacred nature of choice in the nomination acceptance speech delivered by the Democratic Party’s nominee Kamala Harris.
Ok, so here we come to thin ice. Granted every citizen is permitted to vote and every vote is to be counted. However, is the opinion of a militia-member that marched with a torch in the Charlottesville ‘Unite the Right’ rally to receive as much freedom to spread hatred, as a you’d grant someone else advocating that all women’s choice with respect to healthcare be inviolate? So far no benchmark for that decision has been excavated from reason. What’s reasonable depends entirely upon who is doing the reasoning. Reason works well for math, but not for such disagreements.
As the ice already is quite thin – here is another view of equality, a view that holds weight. What does life itself require? If society is life-like, an organism, what does a healthy society demand?
Can you hear the ice beginning to crack?
It seems to me that the November election will surely be a contest of life and death.
Mutually refraining from injury, violence, and exploitation,
placing your will on par with the other’s:
in a certain, crude sense,
these practices
can become good manners
between individuals
when the right conditions are present
(namely, that the individuals have genuinely similar
quantities of force and measures of value,
and belong together within a single body).
But as soon as this principle is taken any further,
and maybe even
held to be the fundamental principle of society,
it immediately shows itself for what it is:
the will to negate life,
the principle of disintegration
and decay.
Here we must think things through thoroughly,
and ward off any sentimental weakness:
life itself
is essentially a process of appropriating,
injuring, overpowering the alien and the weaker,
oppressing, being harsh,
imposing your own form, incorporating,
and at least, the very least,
exploiting,
– but what is the point of always using words
that have been stamped with slanderous intentions
from time immemorial?
Even a body
within which (as we presupposed earlier)
particular individuals treat each other as equal
(which happens in every healthy aristocracy):
if this body is living and not dying,
it will have to treat other bodies
in just those ways that the individuals it contains
refrain from treating each other.
It will have to be the embodiment of will to power,
it will want to grow, spread, grab, win dominance,
– not out of any morality or immorality,
But because it is alive, and because
life is precisely will to power.
“Exploitation”
does not belong
to a corrupted or imperfect,
primitive society:
it belongs to the essence of being alive
as a fundamental organic function;
it is a result of genuine will to power,
which is just the will of life.
Beyond Good and Evil, by Friedrich Nietzsche, trans. by Judith Norman, aphorism 259
2 thoughts on “Egalité”
A thought or two. First, my own conundrum (or perhaps hypocritical perspective) is that I am extremely intolerant of intolerance. This point of view reminds of the Star Trek episode where Spock and Kirk short circuit an entire group of atomotons by telling them, “Everything I say is a lie”.
In this same vein, what I keep coming back to on a daily basis is that I’m extraordinarily angry, I mean really pissed off at our fellow humans. We are fucking up our planet, sending thousands of species into extinction, blowing each other to smithereens, and, in many cases, we cannot even carry on a civil conversation with each other. But anger is an emotion. It has the effect of removing the rational thought processes from the table as it becomes explosive unto itself. And yet it is also a motivator; spurring me to take action, to work at mitigating what I see as the insanity in which we are all drowning.
That’s great. Action begets results, or at least it has the potential to do so. And yet again, I stop to ask myself, what’s the point? Where does this go? Am I shouting into the wind with no possible result except to spend my last few years of consciousness raging at a wall of ignorance that has no possibility of responding?
Lots of rhetorical questions. No real answers. The old saying is that, “The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same”. I will leave you today with a piece of writing from many years ago, pondering the same questions I pose here.
Aftermath
My winter arrives as tulips
push past sun-warmed soil.
Brilliant colored petals
transform to muted greys
as I grasp the charred remains
of implicit trust misplaced.
I am worn out by the dark.
The coldness of my spirit
is caught in swirling eddies
of an endless replay,
casting a pall of cynicism
over whatever decency is left.
Shadows I had hoped
would be disbursed
by a change of season,
instead gnaw at my bones
while I wait for the light of sanity
to break through clouds.
If I could, I would send
the lunacies of this moment
slithering back beneath the rock
where all the festering
wounds lay stagnant,
waiting.
But I cannot.
The rats of Hades wiggle free,
scampering through fissured cracks,
as noxious fumes
fill my senses with
the bile of human greed.
Despite the deafening cries
for vengeful retribution,
still I search for spring,
digging into earth,
desperately seeking a sign
that my path is not illusory.
Tell me some goodness may be found
in the warm, rich hummus,
where small bits of kindness
might sprout against all odds,
and replace the darkened specter
of a constant winter.
Goodness!
We are on our own. Goodness is a possibility but that is entirely up to us. Anger is justified, and still is as treacherous as Homer knew.
What’s the point?
As long as we keep asking ourselves that question, there is hope. Hope is the hint of that point, a humane future that appears to be against all odds…
The future depends entirely upon the stories we tell ourselves and others.