Tuesday, April 24, 2012
ctpa
It seems the Obama administration is pushing ahead with the US-Colombia Trade Promotion Agreement (CTPA), which is set to go into effect in May, despite Columbia's fairly weak record on workers' rights and the ongoing threat to union activists (somewhere between 3,000-4,000 have been assassinated since the mid 1980's, at least 40 of them last year according to historian and NYU professor Greg Grandin). Like most free trade agreements, the CTPA is designed to benefit capital at the expense of labour, paying lip service to workers' rights and anti-labor violence while doing precious little to actually protect the former and stop the latter. While the Democratic Party tends to present itself as pro-labour, in reality it's anything but, as its continual support of neoliberal policies at home and abroad clearly demonstrates. It's high time the left in this country started thinking outside the box of two-party electoral politics and stop blindly supporting the 'lesser evil.' /rant
Monday, April 23, 2012
gulf seafood deformities alarm scientists
A frightening article from Al Jazeera about the ongoing effects of the 2010 BP Gulf oil spill:
Gulf seafood deformities alarm scientists
Further evidence, in my opinion, that we need to collectively change our behaviour, particularly the ways we produce our means of subsistence. Being the pessimist that I am, however, I doubt that we're going to in time to prevent our actions from doing even more irreparable harm to the planet. Capitalism has become the dominate economic system worldwide, and with it, rampant consumerism, depletion of natural resources, and industrial pollution on a global scale. The market itself is designed to give people what they want, regardless of the consequences, and it's frankly unsustainable.
For one, capitalism's need for continual economic growth requires a continual increase in consumption, and in turn, continually expanding markets and/or an increase in population to create and sustain such growth. This, naturally, tends to lead to consumerism, which has its own downsides, such as environmental degradation, the depletion of natural resources, and the promotion of unnecessary and even harmful jobs as long as they contribute to growth. In addition, the planet's resources are limited, and its ecosystems relatively fragile.
The cumulative cost of negative externalities produced by companies like BP are hard to calculate in dollars; but their cost in terms of quality of life for us and future generations is simply too high, in my opinion. Moreover, I don't think that production, distribution, and exchange should be left to the whim of some supposedly self-regulating 'invisible hand' that guides production in global capitalism and directs "industry in such a manner as its produce may be of the greatest value." While value can include things like quality of life and so on, it's often limited to profit by the system itself since profit is not only the driving force behind capitalism (and hence economic behaviour), but the metric by which success is most often measured. And governments don't necessarily perform the role of regulator any better, more often than not colluding with capital to the detriment of workers, consumers, and the environment alike.
Unfortunately, as far as I can see, there's no panacea for the myriad of problems we face as an ever-evolving, technologically advanced, and increasingly globalized species with an unprecedented ability to change and shape the environment. But I'm strongly convinced that any long-term solutions lie not with governmental agencies or the ephemeral and God-like invisible hand, but with a politico-economic system that's not centred around the idealization of profit, and which promotes the existence of an informed and engaged working class possessing a direct say in how production, distribution, and exchange is carried out. /rant
Gulf seafood deformities alarm scientists
Further evidence, in my opinion, that we need to collectively change our behaviour, particularly the ways we produce our means of subsistence. Being the pessimist that I am, however, I doubt that we're going to in time to prevent our actions from doing even more irreparable harm to the planet. Capitalism has become the dominate economic system worldwide, and with it, rampant consumerism, depletion of natural resources, and industrial pollution on a global scale. The market itself is designed to give people what they want, regardless of the consequences, and it's frankly unsustainable.
For one, capitalism's need for continual economic growth requires a continual increase in consumption, and in turn, continually expanding markets and/or an increase in population to create and sustain such growth. This, naturally, tends to lead to consumerism, which has its own downsides, such as environmental degradation, the depletion of natural resources, and the promotion of unnecessary and even harmful jobs as long as they contribute to growth. In addition, the planet's resources are limited, and its ecosystems relatively fragile.
The cumulative cost of negative externalities produced by companies like BP are hard to calculate in dollars; but their cost in terms of quality of life for us and future generations is simply too high, in my opinion. Moreover, I don't think that production, distribution, and exchange should be left to the whim of some supposedly self-regulating 'invisible hand' that guides production in global capitalism and directs "industry in such a manner as its produce may be of the greatest value." While value can include things like quality of life and so on, it's often limited to profit by the system itself since profit is not only the driving force behind capitalism (and hence economic behaviour), but the metric by which success is most often measured. And governments don't necessarily perform the role of regulator any better, more often than not colluding with capital to the detriment of workers, consumers, and the environment alike.
Unfortunately, as far as I can see, there's no panacea for the myriad of problems we face as an ever-evolving, technologically advanced, and increasingly globalized species with an unprecedented ability to change and shape the environment. But I'm strongly convinced that any long-term solutions lie not with governmental agencies or the ephemeral and God-like invisible hand, but with a politico-economic system that's not centred around the idealization of profit, and which promotes the existence of an informed and engaged working class possessing a direct say in how production, distribution, and exchange is carried out. /rant
Sunday, April 22, 2012
practical morality?
Interesting debate between Sam Harris and William Craig on the subject of moral truths and values:
Some tentative thoughts: I think Craig really trips himself up when he uses his own God = good tautology after criticizing Harris for playing semantic games and accusing him of using a tautology.
I also think it's interesting that Harris' reply at 1:50-52 is somewhat similar to the Buddha's reply to King Pasenadi in SN 3.8, which essentially gives the underlying basis for Buddhist morality (especially in regard to the principle of ahimsa or 'harmlessness').
This basis or argument for morality focuses on the moral character of the individual and revolves around seeing our desires for happiness and freedom from pain in all living creatures, particularly human beings. The essential premise here being that there's no one that's as dear to us as ourselves, that all sentient beings essentially want to be happy in their own way (according to their specific capacities), and that this is a fairly decent and logical reason to desire their happiness and well-being as well as our own. The reasoning is fairly simple. If our happiness and well-being comes at the expense of theirs, they'll do everything in their power to upset that happiness.
Conversely, if they were to infringe upon ours, wouldn't it follow that we'd do everything in our power to upset theirs? Looking at it from this perspective, where insecurity dominates the moral playing field (like never knowing if your doctor is going to cut you up in order to help five other patients), a world with moral security not only seems more desirable, but more conducive to the flourishing of conscious beings. Moreover, the former promotes a vicious circle of retribution, and one of the ways to break this circle is an ethical framework that takes the happiness and general well-being of others into consideration, which is one of the things that Harris seems to be promoting (although for slightly different reasons).
Of course, I don't think this presents an 'objective' basis for morality, but it certain seems like a practical one.
Some tentative thoughts: I think Craig really trips himself up when he uses his own God = good tautology after criticizing Harris for playing semantic games and accusing him of using a tautology.
I also think it's interesting that Harris' reply at 1:50-52 is somewhat similar to the Buddha's reply to King Pasenadi in SN 3.8, which essentially gives the underlying basis for Buddhist morality (especially in regard to the principle of ahimsa or 'harmlessness').
This basis or argument for morality focuses on the moral character of the individual and revolves around seeing our desires for happiness and freedom from pain in all living creatures, particularly human beings. The essential premise here being that there's no one that's as dear to us as ourselves, that all sentient beings essentially want to be happy in their own way (according to their specific capacities), and that this is a fairly decent and logical reason to desire their happiness and well-being as well as our own. The reasoning is fairly simple. If our happiness and well-being comes at the expense of theirs, they'll do everything in their power to upset that happiness.
Conversely, if they were to infringe upon ours, wouldn't it follow that we'd do everything in our power to upset theirs? Looking at it from this perspective, where insecurity dominates the moral playing field (like never knowing if your doctor is going to cut you up in order to help five other patients), a world with moral security not only seems more desirable, but more conducive to the flourishing of conscious beings. Moreover, the former promotes a vicious circle of retribution, and one of the ways to break this circle is an ethical framework that takes the happiness and general well-being of others into consideration, which is one of the things that Harris seems to be promoting (although for slightly different reasons).
Of course, I don't think this presents an 'objective' basis for morality, but it certain seems like a practical one.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
bored after-dinner writing: a freudian easter
Ah, Easter. The season of Cadbury eggs, people in rabbit suits, and never ending replays of King of Kings. A time meant for reflection upon the almost unbelievable account of one man's victory over death itself, who Paul taunts by asking, "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" But while Paul's words at 1 Cor 15:55 refer specifically to Jesus' resurrection, I see within them a deeper, existential challenge to the seemingly final end of life, and to the eternal emptiness that threateningly looms beyond.
At some deep, subconscious level, there's a constant fear of death buried within the human heart, a fear embedded in its deepest, darkest recesses by eons of evolution, an overwhelming instinct to survive. And this fear of death, of nonexistence, translates into love of life, a defiance of death, and a desire to live in some way forever, a desire for immortality. And in the story of Jesus' resurrection, we have the personification of this desire for immortality, and the promise of complete victory over death. It's a comforting image, and it's difficult not to appreciate that the idea of his resurrection resonates with many on a deeply emotional level regardless of its actual occurrence. I, too, find it a stirring tale.
On the other hand, as strange as it may seem on the face of it, I find a part of myself agreeing with Goethe's Mephistopheles in his preference for the promise of eternal emptiness:
And this antithetical dichotomy of extreme positivism and negativism immediately brings to mind Freud's conception of Eros and Thanatos, love and death. The former, Eros, love, libido, or whatever you want to call it, was seen by Freud as a constructive and binding force, and corresponds to our innate drive to survive, our love of life, and in this case, our desire for immortality in the form of the resurrected Jesus. The latter, Thanatos or the death drive, which Freud thought the root of our aggressive and self-destructive tendencies, corresponds to Mephistopheles' poetic praise of eternal emptiness, of complete and utter annihilation, our self-destructive behaviour in the form of Judas, who betrayed Jesus, and the Roman soldiers who crucified him.
It may be a bit of a stretch, but I can't help thinking that a Hegelian or Marxist versed in Freud, or vice versa, might see these two conflicting forces in the context of a dialectical relationship, which can be seen as a mechanism for change and progression in both the individual as well as society, neither giving either force an absolute existence nor denying them completely. Perhaps these things are simply an expression of an ever-evolving consciousness in an ever-evolving universe, a reflection of the psychological contradictions that drive all human endeavors forward.
From this point of view, Judas and those who crucified God in the flesh are just as important as the resurrected Jesus himself, with each representing the opposing creative and destructive forces within ourselves; and our spiritual evolution requires the resolution of tensions between the two in the form of the risen Jesus. Easter, then, might be seen as a subconscious acknowledgement of the dialectical relationship between Eros and Thanatos, between life and death, between immortality and the void. And Jesus, who personifies a deified Eros, must rise from the dead so that Hades, who may be seen as a biblical personification of the death drive, never has the final say.
The focus is on Jesus simply because he plays a duel role in the relationship. As Eros, he represents the vitality of life and the desire for immortality, which is ultimately negated by death. But he also represents the synthesis in his resurrected form, the resolution of the tensions between the seeming futility of life and apparent finality of death, between the conflicting drives to create and to destroy. And his victory over death, his resurrection, represents life's struggle to survive, to replenish itself, to reproduce, to overcome, and which manifests in us as the otherworldly desire of eternal life, as well as the more mundane desire to live forever through our creations and offspring. In fact, the story of Jesus' resurrection can even be seen as an elaborate, mythologized affirmation of Dr. Ian Malcolm's (Jeff Goldblum) aphorism in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, "Life will find a way."
At some deep, subconscious level, there's a constant fear of death buried within the human heart, a fear embedded in its deepest, darkest recesses by eons of evolution, an overwhelming instinct to survive. And this fear of death, of nonexistence, translates into love of life, a defiance of death, and a desire to live in some way forever, a desire for immortality. And in the story of Jesus' resurrection, we have the personification of this desire for immortality, and the promise of complete victory over death. It's a comforting image, and it's difficult not to appreciate that the idea of his resurrection resonates with many on a deeply emotional level regardless of its actual occurrence. I, too, find it a stirring tale.
On the other hand, as strange as it may seem on the face of it, I find a part of myself agreeing with Goethe's Mephistopheles in his preference for the promise of eternal emptiness:
A foolish word, bygone.
How so then, gone?
Gone, to sheer Nothing, past with null made one!
What matters creative endless toil,
When, at a snatch, oblivion ends the coil?
'It is bygone'— How shall this riddle run?
As good as if things never had begun,
Yet circle back, existence to possess:
I'd rather have Eternal Emptiness.
And this antithetical dichotomy of extreme positivism and negativism immediately brings to mind Freud's conception of Eros and Thanatos, love and death. The former, Eros, love, libido, or whatever you want to call it, was seen by Freud as a constructive and binding force, and corresponds to our innate drive to survive, our love of life, and in this case, our desire for immortality in the form of the resurrected Jesus. The latter, Thanatos or the death drive, which Freud thought the root of our aggressive and self-destructive tendencies, corresponds to Mephistopheles' poetic praise of eternal emptiness, of complete and utter annihilation, our self-destructive behaviour in the form of Judas, who betrayed Jesus, and the Roman soldiers who crucified him.
It may be a bit of a stretch, but I can't help thinking that a Hegelian or Marxist versed in Freud, or vice versa, might see these two conflicting forces in the context of a dialectical relationship, which can be seen as a mechanism for change and progression in both the individual as well as society, neither giving either force an absolute existence nor denying them completely. Perhaps these things are simply an expression of an ever-evolving consciousness in an ever-evolving universe, a reflection of the psychological contradictions that drive all human endeavors forward.
From this point of view, Judas and those who crucified God in the flesh are just as important as the resurrected Jesus himself, with each representing the opposing creative and destructive forces within ourselves; and our spiritual evolution requires the resolution of tensions between the two in the form of the risen Jesus. Easter, then, might be seen as a subconscious acknowledgement of the dialectical relationship between Eros and Thanatos, between life and death, between immortality and the void. And Jesus, who personifies a deified Eros, must rise from the dead so that Hades, who may be seen as a biblical personification of the death drive, never has the final say.
The focus is on Jesus simply because he plays a duel role in the relationship. As Eros, he represents the vitality of life and the desire for immortality, which is ultimately negated by death. But he also represents the synthesis in his resurrected form, the resolution of the tensions between the seeming futility of life and apparent finality of death, between the conflicting drives to create and to destroy. And his victory over death, his resurrection, represents life's struggle to survive, to replenish itself, to reproduce, to overcome, and which manifests in us as the otherworldly desire of eternal life, as well as the more mundane desire to live forever through our creations and offspring. In fact, the story of Jesus' resurrection can even be seen as an elaborate, mythologized affirmation of Dr. Ian Malcolm's (Jeff Goldblum) aphorism in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, "Life will find a way."
Sunday, March 25, 2012
hidden treasures
So, recently, I've been going through some old stuff at my parent's house, and I've been finding all kinds of hidden treasures. Today, I found a copy of the December 1995 edition of my high school's newspaper, The Panther Press, in which I wrote a guest editorial criticizing what I felt to be unfair treatment by the staff:
Part of me cringes at some of the grammar and language, not to mention my naive invocation of the Constitution; but part of me is proud for at least having the courage to publicly express my feelings and challenge what I felt to be discriminatory treatment, knowing that it'd only make the powers that be single me out even further. Reminds me of the comment left on one of my kindergarten report cards: "Occasionally, Jason misbehaves, or will not respond to authority."
On a lighter note, I also found a copy of the June 1996 edition of The Panther Press. For my "Where We'll Be In 2006" entry, which they did for all the seniors that year, they wrote: "Jason Merritt sells babies to the black market and is finally caught and serves time on planet Dune with his cell mate, a guy named Lucy."
CLHS Staff Treats Some Like Second-Class Students
By Jason Merritt
It's just my opinion, but I believe the staff at Center Line treats a number of students unfairly. I am one of them, in particular. Just because I have long hair, a different style of clothes, and a slightly different view on life, they see me as a second-class student.
I am surprised at their lack of open-mindedness. Teachers don't regard me as a normal student, but they assume I must be a trouble-maker just by the way I look.
I am not the most perfect student, but, if you asked, most people will tell you that I am quiet and usually do my work. (On some occasions, I do slack off, however.) When the teachers talk to me, they sound as if I'm a waste of time.
The rules are also unfair to me. I wear clothes that I can afford, fit well, and appeal to my tastes. Normally, that is not a problem...except here. My shirts, my pants, even my way of life is inappropriate. I have to turn my shirts inside out and look like a total idiot.
What? A hole in my pants? Well, there's a two-mile walk to change them, and another two-mile trot back--four miles because of a hole? Do you want to know what the administration's view was? They don't care! Gee, that's nice.
I though the goal of the school was to worry about the student's education, to prepare them for life, so that they will be successful, not to make their loves hell by constantly being like a communist regime, telling us what we can wear, say, and how to act. That's our parent's job. Why does the school have to interfere with that?
Shirts--Why must we change or turn them inside-out? Because they are inappropriate? What does it matter; it is a free country...I thought. If you believe in God, you can wear a cross or a big, "I love Jesus" shirt, but if a skull or the word Satan appears, you are automatically scum.
The reason I heard was, "Christianity is a viable religion." So is Satanism. If you have any doubts, look up the Constitution and find the part that states: We the people have freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and all those other good things.
Plus, I thought the law about separation of church and state made it illegal for a school to impose a religious belief on a student, which makes it by law none of their business.
So, what is the problem? A skull is supposed to symbolize death. (I thought it just looked good on a shirt.) So, everything symbolizes death; we all are going to die sometime. Are they just trying to forget that?
This school would be a lot better off if they left it up to us to run our own lives; I don't need help to fix what isn't broken. So, to the staff of Center Line, I would like to say, "Get your own life, and stop messing with mine."
Part of me cringes at some of the grammar and language, not to mention my naive invocation of the Constitution; but part of me is proud for at least having the courage to publicly express my feelings and challenge what I felt to be discriminatory treatment, knowing that it'd only make the powers that be single me out even further. Reminds me of the comment left on one of my kindergarten report cards: "Occasionally, Jason misbehaves, or will not respond to authority."
On a lighter note, I also found a copy of the June 1996 edition of The Panther Press. For my "Where We'll Be In 2006" entry, which they did for all the seniors that year, they wrote: "Jason Merritt sells babies to the black market and is finally caught and serves time on planet Dune with his cell mate, a guy named Lucy."
Saturday, March 24, 2012
rough day
Sometime I feel like screaming. Loudly. Violently. So hard it hurts. It's like things get so bottled up inside of me that I feel like I'm going to burst, like there's a dam inside of me that has to give way and release all the pent up anger, frustration, sadness, and whatever else I have seething in my soul.
I've known for a long time there's something different about me from most people psychologically. I'm not sure what exactly, but something. I've always had trouble expressing the things that I'm feeling; even to the psychiatrist I never bothered to go back to after the first visit. I've self-diagnosed myself as either manic depressive or clinically depressed, though, having long periods of sullenness interspersed with bursts of childlike happiness that temporarily displace the despair I normally feel. I also see things differently, being more perceptive of the negative in everything than the positive. I have little patience and a quick temper. The smallest things make me rage inside.
I hate being this way, especially because I feel like there's nothing I can do to change it. I've tried medication (Paxil). I've tried talking, writing, and thinking about it. I've tried altering my lifestyle. But no matter what I do, no matter how many things I try to do to counteract my negative thoughts and moods, they just keep coming back even more relentlessly than before. I think everything sucks. I think everyone hates me. I hate myself. And the whole time, I just want to be happy and enjoy life and make friends and all the other things regular people seem to be able to do with less effort.
I think a lot of the people who suffer from depression and end up killing themselves do so just because they're tired—tired of always feeling like this; tired of constantly fighting it and trying to get other people to understand what their world is like. They're simply worn out. Day after day of feeling this way and fighting to keep sane, to keep smiling and trying to act normal despite it all, just eventually wears you down until you don't have any energy left to fight back anymore.
Depression is like an ocean, and you're in the middle of it. Whereas other people have boats and only rarely fall into the depths of despair before managing to pull themselves back up, people with depression don't have their own boat and are constantly treading water. Eventually there comes a point when they simply get too tired to continue and stop swimming. It's not that they're weak, they've just been pushed to the limits of their endurance for so long that everything simply gives out, and the ocean greedily pulls them under. For them, death is almost a respite, a sanctuary from the never ending torment their mind inflicts upon itself.
That's how I see it, anyway; how I sometimes feel. If it wasn't for all the friends and family members who have held out their hands and held me up over the years, even for a few moments, I might have stopped swimming a long time ago.
I've known for a long time there's something different about me from most people psychologically. I'm not sure what exactly, but something. I've always had trouble expressing the things that I'm feeling; even to the psychiatrist I never bothered to go back to after the first visit. I've self-diagnosed myself as either manic depressive or clinically depressed, though, having long periods of sullenness interspersed with bursts of childlike happiness that temporarily displace the despair I normally feel. I also see things differently, being more perceptive of the negative in everything than the positive. I have little patience and a quick temper. The smallest things make me rage inside.
I hate being this way, especially because I feel like there's nothing I can do to change it. I've tried medication (Paxil). I've tried talking, writing, and thinking about it. I've tried altering my lifestyle. But no matter what I do, no matter how many things I try to do to counteract my negative thoughts and moods, they just keep coming back even more relentlessly than before. I think everything sucks. I think everyone hates me. I hate myself. And the whole time, I just want to be happy and enjoy life and make friends and all the other things regular people seem to be able to do with less effort.
I think a lot of the people who suffer from depression and end up killing themselves do so just because they're tired—tired of always feeling like this; tired of constantly fighting it and trying to get other people to understand what their world is like. They're simply worn out. Day after day of feeling this way and fighting to keep sane, to keep smiling and trying to act normal despite it all, just eventually wears you down until you don't have any energy left to fight back anymore.
Depression is like an ocean, and you're in the middle of it. Whereas other people have boats and only rarely fall into the depths of despair before managing to pull themselves back up, people with depression don't have their own boat and are constantly treading water. Eventually there comes a point when they simply get too tired to continue and stop swimming. It's not that they're weak, they've just been pushed to the limits of their endurance for so long that everything simply gives out, and the ocean greedily pulls them under. For them, death is almost a respite, a sanctuary from the never ending torment their mind inflicts upon itself.
That's how I see it, anyway; how I sometimes feel. If it wasn't for all the friends and family members who have held out their hands and held me up over the years, even for a few moments, I might have stopped swimming a long time ago.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
a quick thought
I was listening to David McCullough's biography of John Adams today, and there's a part where he references a line from a letter written by Abigail Adams in the spring of 1776 to her husband: "I have sometimes been ready to think that the passion for liberty cannot be equally strong in the breasts of those who have been accustomed to deprive their fellow-creatures of theirs [referring to slave-holding Virginians]. Of this I am certain, that it is not founded upon that generous and Christian principle of doing to others as we would that others should do unto us."
My initial reaction upon hearing this was to wonder if the same sentiment couldn't also be applied to capital in relation to the wage labourer, at least in the sense of how the latter is coerced under the capitalist mode of production to surrender their labour-power to the former in exchange for their means of subsistence, which is always less than what they actually produces, as well as all rights over the product of their labour. In essence, from one point of view, both slavery and wage labour can be seen to infringe upon individual autonomy in their respective ways, with former more obviously so, but the latter no less potentially oppressive. As Frederick Engels wrote in 1847, "The slave is sold once and for all; the proletarian must sell himself daily and hourly. The individual slave, property of one master, is assured an existence, however miserable it may be, because of the master's interest. The individual proletarian, property as it were of the entire bourgeois class which buys his labor only when someone has need of it, has no secure existence."
Maybe a bit of a stretch, but something to think about.
My initial reaction upon hearing this was to wonder if the same sentiment couldn't also be applied to capital in relation to the wage labourer, at least in the sense of how the latter is coerced under the capitalist mode of production to surrender their labour-power to the former in exchange for their means of subsistence, which is always less than what they actually produces, as well as all rights over the product of their labour. In essence, from one point of view, both slavery and wage labour can be seen to infringe upon individual autonomy in their respective ways, with former more obviously so, but the latter no less potentially oppressive. As Frederick Engels wrote in 1847, "The slave is sold once and for all; the proletarian must sell himself daily and hourly. The individual slave, property of one master, is assured an existence, however miserable it may be, because of the master's interest. The individual proletarian, property as it were of the entire bourgeois class which buys his labor only when someone has need of it, has no secure existence."
Maybe a bit of a stretch, but something to think about.
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