Let
the cries of 'love' die and live
I
-
Philosophers
are supposed to challenge everything. Not just what they know to be false, to
build their esteem upon the ruins of the cardboard castles they kick down - but
also what they know to be true. Yet if we took philosophers at their word we
would be left with only so many hypocrites and cowards, their motives well
hidden behind a smoke screen of 'objectivity' (the search for truth removed
from any human, or individual bias), when in fact they know precisely where not
to look, in case they face contradiction.
Let us then dive into love, often spoken of
which such bittersweet warmth, yet here so cold, as if the words were made of
icicles - runes of chill!
Love,
nothing could pull us further away from truth. The first love is that of a
parent, a love we now call essential. For to be loved is to be able to love -
or so say the psychologists! We need love now, all of us children of europe -
we have been too far pulled in to christian morality to ever turn back (see the
prophet-philosopher Nietzsche for more of this). This need for the parent to
love the child they would like to think was universal for our species - this is
not so. What of the tribe who raises their children in darkened huts without
human company?
II
-
Love
thyself - What is there to love of the actual physical body - at worst a
grotesque bag of flesh, at best a neutral beauty no more sightly than a moon or
a grove, granted extra emphasis by the vanity that we too are possessed of one.
Or perhaps the soul is worthy of love, that corrupt thing easily swayed, that
lies to itself and those around it habitually, such that meeting an honest
one is enough to make us feel like we live a charmed life! How have we allowed
the soul to grow warm when there is nothing colder than it, being as it is a
mere mirror with which nature may see itself.
Love
thy neighbour? Where do we gain the warrant to trample on anothers individual
rights to be left alone, or ignored, or generally not considered very much!
Love
thy nation - so often uttered by 'hard nosed realists' - yes the same ones who
adhere to invisible boundaries of law and culture, beneath their vainly
fluttering flags.
Love
thy god - a personal connection, a father for those hopelessly in need for the
perfect parent, how desperate! A pitious grasping out into a cold cosmos in
search for something all powerful and inhuman, yet human!
Love
thy cola - when a capitalist is onto something, we know how easily such a thing
can manipulate people - love this liquid, love this combination of metal and
plastic, love this motorized car!
Love
thy ruler - the captain, the duke, the charismatic general, the high-priest,
the witch-doctor, himself void of character and desperate for the mass
adoration of his little lovers.
And
perhaps the ultimate vanity, the grandest insult to a concept that may
otherwise had held some power - unconditional love. The love of dog for master,
debasing even for a canine! In a human it is worse to the factor of ten times -
what more is it then the need for a perfect port in which to lay anchor, a
hopeless reflection of ones own need for perfection-on-earth, a desire to
escape ones solitude to find solace in another person, as a foetus does a womb.
Yet what a vanity it is, for who deserves to be loved without condition - no
one! And mark this - if one expects the
same in return, to try and mould the other into a lover unconditional, then
what utter vanity and further self-seeking, what doubled-over wretchedness!
III
-
An
old mood passes, replaced with the new. Can any philosopher ever escape their
emotion, for the true crystal plane of reason?
Love is incredible, irresistable. If has
softened the hearts of the warrior age and brought about our expectations to
protect all people - at least to a basic, realistic degree. Love of one another
is all we have to cling to. Beyond each other, we can also love ideas (being
moved by them in the same way as any other passion), art, music, our crafts -
we can love all of these immaterial things.
You can try and resist love - you will fail.
The cold-heart melts or else it fights a constant battle against itself - even
if the coldness wins, that tortured character still asks 'what would it have
meant to have loved?' and this question will spin through their memory
until they perish once and for all.
The words said against love were just that;
words, an interesting flight of thoughts. The great haters with their great
venom were unloved, and rather than move toward the healing heat, they
retreated further into the shadows by renouncing that which they never dared to
grasp themselves.
By
St.Zagarus
The Philosophy Takeaway 'Open Topic' Issue 33
