Some late night ramblings

Something that started as an email to my Latin teacher that ended up being way too long.
Kia Kroas :=: 18 Apr, 2009 03:56:34 last updated: 18 Apr, 2009 10:55:32

Now, let's begin.

On Matthew Silkwood's notion that "we are shadows of a perfect self" and "an antithesis of ourselves". I can see truth in that. Consider all the hypocrites in the world, and everybody acts like that once in a while, more or less. People like to think themselves perfect--or at least as near perfect as possible. They try to project that perfection when they enter any public outing. Aah, but what is a person? Leave perfection aside for now; that's beyond the scope of this simple email.

In death a person is what people think of him. Whether those thoughts and memories are right or wrong does not matter. (He/She would be too dead to argue anyway.) Saints are not remembered for their youth's misdeeds and wars their atrocities. Maybe that's why people go to such great depths to convey normality, benevolence and flawlessness. If politicians are a reflection of how the electorate perceive themselves, then is it any surprise that everyone has something to hide? Political scandals and celebrity gossip are everywhere.

That's in death. What, then, is a person in life? In some respects, it still is the popular conception. The person, however, can dispute any claims, or commit some act to alter people's impressions of him/her. All the secrets we hide, the regrets we keep, the dreams we sacrifice, the changes we make for the sake of creating that new impression, they are the definition of ourselves.

Now here's my point: what comes of it all this hiding? We become an antithesis of ourselves. Perhaps not a complete anti-self, but still a force opposing what we really are. We are shadows of a perfect self because all the ambitions we had and the things we could have done were lost in each choice we make. And they accumulate over time. With every step we take forward, we lose the possibilities that could have been. The "perfect me" that could have been. Because people don't always make the best choices, the "me" that we are now is only a shadow of that perfection.

In terms of logic, how can a self also be an anti-self? There are two sides to every coin. Magnets have two polarities. North and South, East and West are two opposites in a set of cardinal directions. I'll leave you to meditate on how traveling in one direction would eventually lead you to the same location as had you chosen its opposite.

Next, the melting pot idea.

You seem pretty adamant on the melting-pot vs stew analogy. I would like to mention that you're attempting a comparison between two dissimilar (though somewhat linked) ideas. A melting-pot holds stuff--a container of sorts. A stew is something you put inside a pot--the result of mixing ingredients. There's no reason why you can't use a melting pot to cook a stew. Just keep the heat lower than usual. I understand your point though, and I think you were alluding to the more common melting-pot vs salad-bowl comparison. (Physically there's nothing to stop you from mixing salads in a melting-pot either.)

Not to sound like I'm backing-out, but I'll have to say that America is both. It is a melting pot in so much as cultures are able to converge, assimilate, and remain generally homogeneous. It is a salad bowl in so much as cultures are able to remain independent, diverse, and distinct. Both homogeneity and distinction can exist in the same system. There are too many peoples in America for any one value--or any one set of overarching values--to define us as Americans. I'm sure there exists people who consider themselves Americans and yet will have nothing in common in terms of daily activity and core beliefs.

So you ask, what holds Americans together? Consider those who have nothing in common. They have friends and acquaintances. Those friends and acquaintances have their friends and acquaintances, and so ad infinitum. Not all friends, or friends' friends, have the same set of values or beliefs. And thus the slight deviations in each link of the chain eventually connects the people with no commonalities together. Our acceptance of the existence of dissimilarity, our ability to value that disparity, and our agreement that we disagree--those are the values that hold us together. What's our narrative? We do not have a single narrative. Instead, we have a series of interconnected tales woven together by interlacing threads.

That's why technology is facilitating the next generation of social interaction. The World Wide Web makes finding interconnecting threads so much easier. (Then again, it might make face-to-face interaction a thing of the past. Whether that's good or not is still questionable.)

This idea of interconnectedness is reflected in our political structure. Take for example the elected members of the House of Representatives. They represent only a small region of their respective state. Then there are the elected senators of the Senate. Two for a state allows them to assemble together the House representatives, their "acquaintances". (One would like the House Reps and Senators to be friends, but I somehow doubt the existence of non-formal alliances.) Then the Vice President is the presiding officer in the Senate, serving to integrate the Senators together. And of course, the Vice President is connected to the people-elected President, thereby connecting individuals around the country together directly.

However, individual states hold their own autonomy and political independence. The legislative brings together the people of the different counties and the governor connects the people of that state together. People then can identify with two contrasting, but not mutually exclusive groups. This idea of mutual intermingling can carry over into their hobbies, interests, workplaces, and even family traditions. Take food as an example: sushi, burritos, rice, pizzas, hamburgers. Take winter solstice holidays: Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa (and lets not forget Saturnalia). They've co-mingled so much that it's common everywhere. People know it, accept it, and to a point, expect it.

It's easy to have one event, one ideal to reach and follow, but simplicities fade easily in a bulky, complicated system like ours. 9/11 is a prime example. The inauguration of President Barack Obama is another. For both events, people came together all around the country, but dispersed relatively quickly after. The bickering and quarreling is increasing even now. (I fear blame and retribution attempts are not far off.) Americans will have to search again for the ability to recognize differences without creating tension and discrimination.

And finally...

James Trevino's remark that people can choose whether to be a part of something or not. I believe you took it off by stating that if no one chooses to be part of it, it disappears. There must be something else behind that argument that I missed. I don't see what's wrong with allowing undesired group relations to disappear. The alternative would be dissent and rebellion, possibly even bloody insurrection. Force of will should not be imposed on people. (Now, if the people were stupid to leave in the first place, then...oh well...it's their own fault. The effort required to regroup would make them think twice about leaving again.)

There is no right or wrong ideas. Ideas are ethereal. They are necessary. Even ideas deemed "wrong" can serve to spark truth. (But that's a subject for another time.) After all, if one must start a search at the "correct" spot, how is one ever to search for the correct spot to begin a search?

Please contemplate some viewpoints, even if you disagree with its practicality. It may unexpectedly offer some much needed insights. I know it's made me open my eyes a few times.