Utter Rebellion and the Human Ashtray
2 Comments Published by Michael on Thursday, July 20, 2006 at 7:43 AM.
Since I have been home I have gone into a 'hiding-mode', both literally and figuratively. In a more literal sense, there have been more than a couple of days that have seen me go no further from the house than 4 steps outside to sit on our one-time church pew and read under the blue-tinted sunlight shining through our makeshift sunblock; aka. a tarp, and even that for only long enough for me to begin sweating profusely and decide that air-conditioned reading is more to my suiting. I suppose the figurative hiding is more pronounced. I have sworn off the blog and email world for the most part, not out of spite or conviction to do so, but out of shear disinterest and the inability to become truly engaged in sitting before this same computer screen that now harshly shines against my sleep swollen face.
I admit it, I am in utter rebellion against the normalcy of my pre-German life. Perhaps in Europe I overindulged, partaking of just too much: too much cool weather, too much rain, too much Andechs, too much exercise, or maybe just too much time alone with my books absent television and cell phones, but I cannot comfortably become reacclamated to the hectic, every-minute-filled days that I had become so accustomed to. So, I, of sound mind and body, choose willingly to rebel.
My days have been nothing short of wonderful since my return. I have played basketball for hours on end, frequented Starbucks as often as when I still worked there, read novel upon novel of my own choosing, and have embraced a newfound love of cigars (as if I needed another vice) making what appear to be strides towards becoming a regular at the local cigar-den. I have visited friends and family, watched several films, read and talked with my wife, and done very few productive things, as previously I might have defined the word. This said, I am not revelling in laziness, far from it, for I believe myself....actually, I do not think I shall offer a defense for my actions; rather, you can judge me as you wish.
I am neither idealistic enough nor sufficiently foolish to believe that I can continue in this lifestyle for much longer than another 2-3 weeks, upon which time I will be thrust back into the dreaded working world, but for now it has been invigorating and nothing short of wonderful.
I have been reminded of Plato's Theatetus, and particularly of his characterization of the philosophic life versus the practical life, lawyers being indicative of those who slave feverishly over their work.
But for now, if only for a few more days, I choose to live as close to the Platonic model as I might be able to pull off in modern Metroplex America:
I admit it, I am in utter rebellion against the normalcy of my pre-German life. Perhaps in Europe I overindulged, partaking of just too much: too much cool weather, too much rain, too much Andechs, too much exercise, or maybe just too much time alone with my books absent television and cell phones, but I cannot comfortably become reacclamated to the hectic, every-minute-filled days that I had become so accustomed to. So, I, of sound mind and body, choose willingly to rebel.
My days have been nothing short of wonderful since my return. I have played basketball for hours on end, frequented Starbucks as often as when I still worked there, read novel upon novel of my own choosing, and have embraced a newfound love of cigars (as if I needed another vice) making what appear to be strides towards becoming a regular at the local cigar-den. I have visited friends and family, watched several films, read and talked with my wife, and done very few productive things, as previously I might have defined the word. This said, I am not revelling in laziness, far from it, for I believe myself....actually, I do not think I shall offer a defense for my actions; rather, you can judge me as you wish.
I am neither idealistic enough nor sufficiently foolish to believe that I can continue in this lifestyle for much longer than another 2-3 weeks, upon which time I will be thrust back into the dreaded working world, but for now it has been invigorating and nothing short of wonderful.
I have been reminded of Plato's Theatetus, and particularly of his characterization of the philosophic life versus the practical life, lawyers being indicative of those who slave feverishly over their work.
Socrates: Well, look at the man who has been knocking about in law courts and such places ever since he was a boy; and compare him with the man brought up in philosophy, in the life of the student. It is surely like comparing a slave with that of a free man.Several weeks from now I will once again become the "man of the law-court", interacting with other slaves who are concerned with Jimmie's excessive tardies, or Patty's failure to turn in homework on time, and undoubtedly I will be reintroduced to the ever-so-understanding parents of my students, parents who will subconsciously make it their mission to insure I experience nothing resembling my leisurely, philosophic summer life.
Theodorus: How is that, now?
Socrates: Because the one man always has what you mentioned just now - plenty of time. When he talks, he talks in peace and quiet, and his time is his own. It is so with us now: here we are beginning on our third new discussion; and he can do the same, if he is like us, and prefers the newcomer to the question in hand. It does not matter to such men whether they talk for a day or a year, if only they many hit upon that which is. But the other - the man of the law courts - is always in a hurry when he is talking; he has to speak with one eye on the clock. Besides, he can't make his speaches on any subject he likes; he has his adversary standing over him, armed with compulsory powers and with the sworn statement, which is read out point by point as he proceeds, and must be kept to by the speaker. The talk is always about a fellow- slave, and is addressed to a master, who sits there holding some suit or other in his hand. And the struggle is never a matter of indefference; it always directly concerns the speaker, an sometimes life itself is at stake.
But for now, if only for a few more days, I choose to live as close to the Platonic model as I might be able to pull off in modern Metroplex America:
Socrates: The philospher grows up without knowing the way to the market-place, or the whereabouts of the law courts or the council chambers or any other place of public assembly....brought up in true freedom and leisure....a man to whom it is no disgrace to appear simple and good-for-nothing when he confronted with menial tasks, when, for instance, he doesnt't know how to make a bed, or how to sweeten a sauce or a flattering speech.
How does the philosopher eat? Does he gather his food in the morning, or does he send his wife/slave to the marketplace to gather food, or is he not restricted to the banal need for food? Surely the philosopher does some work so as to eat. Seriously, what did Socrates do for food or shelter?
(Perhaps he had a blog)
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