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No. 27112
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>>26874
Related, but I recently read "The Messiah" by Peter Zappfe and quite liked it. I'm tired of all these philosophers who end up bullshitting around with semantics and never end up stating anything tangible. Zappfe's short essay eloquently formalizes a lot of vague ideas I had floating around in my mind; the mere observation that life is suffering is by itself not really worthy of being written down – what I like about Zappfe is that he views the issue as fundamentally rooted in our (over)evolved intellect.
Those very same faculties of reasoning, modeling, pattern-matching, and introspection that made us fit as top predators are the ones that give rise to anxiety, melancholia, and suffering at an emotional level as we experience it. Or in other words, the price we paid for this over-evolved consciousness was dealing with an emotional burden that we then suppress via various defense mechanisms to avoid confronting.
I'm just going to post some quotes from his essay since it explains everything far better than I can
>A breach in the very unity of life, a biological paradox, an abomination, an absurdity, an exaggeration of disastrous nature. Life had overshot its target, blowing itself apart. A species had been armed too heavily – by spirit made almighty without, but equally a menace to its own well-being. Its weapon was like a sword without hilt or plate, a two-edged blade cleaving everything; but he who is to wield it must grasp the blade and turn the one edge toward himself.
>The beast knew fear as well, in thunderstorms and on the lion’s claw. But man became fearful of life itself – indeed, of his very being. Life – that was for the beast to feel the play of power, it was heat and games and strife and hunger, and then at last to bow before the law of course. In the beast, suffering is self-confined, in man, it knocks holes into a fear of the world and a despair of life.
>The tragedy of a species becoming unfit for life by overevolving one ability is not confined to humankind. Thus it is thought, for instance, that certain deer in paleontological times succumbed as they acquired overly-heavy horns. The mutations must be considered blind, they work, are thrown forth, without any contact of interest with their environment. In depressive states, the mind may be seen in the image of such an antler, in all its fantastic splendour pinning its bearer to the ground.
The crux of his essay – and what I found was the main takeaway – was the examination of the mechanisms by which people avoid confronting this issue.
>Why, then, has mankind not long ago gone extinct during great epidemics of madness? Why do only a fairly minor number of individuals perish because they fail to endure the strain of living – because cognition gives them more than they can carry? Cultural history, as well as observation of ourselves and others, allow the following answer: Most people learn to save themselves by artificially limiting the content of consciousness.
Which naturally reminds me of the studies that show a high correlation between autism or adhd and depression; if adhd and mild autism can be thought of as resulting from a failure in the brain's signal filtering or suppression mechanisms (indeed, sensitivity to stimuli and being overwhelmed by them is a common symptom of both), then the observed correlation becomes natural.
>The human being saves itself and carries on. It performs, to extend a settled phrase, a more or less self-conscious repression of its damaging surplus of consciousness. This process is virtually constant during our waking and active hours, and is a requirement of social adaptability and of everything commonly referred to as healthy and normal living. Psychiatry even works on the assumption that the ‘healthy’ and viable is at one with the highest in personal terms. Depression, ‘fear of life,’ refusal of nourishment and so on are invariably taken as signs of a pathological state and treated thereafter.
Which again accords with studies that "depressed" people make more rational choices. The end result is something that probably every anon on here known: the life of so-called "normal" life is one clothed in ignorance, a self-delusion created to maintain the facade life.
Zapffe noted 4 broad patterns of suppression by which this delusion is upheld:
Isolation
Described as "arbitrary rejection of disturbing and destructive thoughts or feelings" – basically tuning a blind eye towards things.
>In our daily social life, isolation manifests itself through universal, unwritten agreements to conceal our existential condition from one another. This concealment begins with children, in order to save them from being rendered senseless by the life they have just begun, to preserve their illusions until they are strong enough to lose them. In return, children are forbidden to embarrass their parents by untimely allusions to sex, shit, and death
Here I'm also reminded of some types of meditation where you basically meditate on complete emptiness of thought. Isn't that the above technique taken to the extreme? Viewed in this light, sure it might work for its purpose of staving off existential dread or melancholia arising from suffering therein, but at its core it loses its magic when seen as just another type of suppression mechanism; why would one be better than the other?
Anchoring
>Attachment can be seen as an attempt to establish fixed points in, or a wall around, the shifting chaos of consciousness. Usually this is an unconscious process, but sometimes it is quite conscious, as for example in an attempt to set some sort of goal for oneself, some reason to live. Generally useful attachments are looked upon with sympathy, and those who give their all for their attachments (their company, or a project) are set up as role models for the rest of us.
>Any culture is a great, rounded system of anchorings, built on foundational firmaments, the basic cultural ideas. The average person makes do with the collective firmaments, the personality is building for himself, the person of character has finished his construction, more or less grounded on the inherited collective main firmaments: (God, the Church, the State, morality, fate, the law of life, the people, the future). The closer to main firmaments a certain carrying element is, the more perilous it is to touch. Here a direct protection is normally established by means of penal codes and threats of prosecution (inquisition, censorship, the Conservative approach to life).
This entire section on anchorings is the one that he devotes most of the third section in his essay to, and it's worth a read. In particular for these snide observations
>We love the anchorings for saving us, but also hate them for limiting our sense of freedom. Whenever we feel strong enough, we thus take pleasure in going together to bury an expired value in style. Material objects take on a symbolic import here (the Radical approach to life). When a human being has eliminated those of his anchorings that are visible to himself, only the unconscious ones staying put, then he will call himself a liberated personality
Distraction
>A very popular mode of protection is distraction. One limits attention to the critical bounds by constantly enthralling it with impressions. This is typical even in childhood; without distraction, the child is also insufferable to itself. “Mom, what am I to do.”
So basically what you expect: entertainment, hobbies, etc. Later on he even explicitly states "(entertainment, sport, radio – ‘the rhythm of the times’)" as an example of these distractions.
>When all distractive options are expended, spleen sets in, ranging from mild indifference to fatal depression. Women, in general less cognition-prone and hence more secure in their living than men, preferably use distraction
This also has this excellent viewpoint which parallels with what I've seen on written on /so/ a few times.
>When a human being takes his life in depression, this is a natural death of spiritual causes. The modern barbarity of ‘saving’ the suicidal is based on a hairraising misapprehension of the nature of existence
Sublimation
This is probably the most interesting one and not one that I had conceived of before, but in retrospect I can see how it fits.
>The fourth remedy against panic, sublimation, is a matter of transformation rather than repression. Through stylistic or artistic gifts can the very pain of living at times be converted into valuable experiences. Positive impulses engage the evil and put it to their own ends, fastening onto its pictorial, dramatic, heroic, lyric or even comic aspects.
Here I'm reminded of the somewhat well-known statistic that those with high levels of creative talents also have a bent towards melancholia. And indeed Zappfe notes that this fourth kind is the rarest, which makes sense: in order for this to work, you have to have someone with the right latent talents, in whom all other suppression mechanisms have failed, and who is successfully able to convert that existential pain into some creative output.
I also like this hilarious footnote highlighting the authors self-awareness
>This article, in fact, is a classic example of sublimation. Despite his perilous subject, the present writer is not suffering at all; he is merely filling pieces of paper with words, and will probably get paid for the manuscript
which reminded me of the refrain in Chomei's Hōjōki essay.
There's also a final section in his essay where he critiques the anarcho-primitivist approach as something that doesn't solve the fundamental issue. This post has gotten long enough though, so maybe I'll write down my notes on that later.
Post edited on 13th Feb 2022, 8:59pm
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