Lindsay’s Scribblings

This is a study of character-interaction.

While they might seem the complete product of circumstance, there is always one basis for any love triangle: poor timing.

There are two basic scenarios:

If a girl and a boy are (ostensibly) in love and have just committed to each other, but the boy meets another girl and (unintentionally, against his best efforts) falls head-over-heels for her, there may be a love-triangle.

Similarly, if a boy meets a girl and falls in love with her but cannot at that moment stay with her, or believes he will never see her again, and returns home or moves to meet a new girl, his closest match since the first, whom he commits to, only to consistently run into the first girl again, there may be a love-triangle.

The question that then arises to any author is, which is more valuable, love or commitment?

If commitment is the foundation of love, one may well err with commitment. But if love is not an ephemeral concept, not a mere spark but a Vestal hearth which burns regardless of will, commitment only serves as a chain to bind.

Certainly, one cannot undervalue commitment - without it there would be no monogamy, no lives together. But commitment is often just another tool to create obligations on behalf of the hero, another way to test his integrity.

But is choosing to remain with one you love (but less) integrity? Or is choosing to betray commitment at society’s behest to pursue a stronger love integrity?

Perhaps it depends on the situation. The hero who is choosing to look for a greater love is never sacrificing just himself. There are often others, perhaps even beyond the one he is originally committed to, who will suffer because of his decision. In the end, his joy must outweigh their despair, or regardless of his desire, he must stay with his original lover.

On the other hand, failure to discern the appropriate reaction (if one reaction clearly outweighs the other) can be considered a tragic flaw. The hero who walks away from his family and children for another woman, or who chooses a lusty and evanescent affair over his wife might be viewed through such a lens.

In some instances, there simply is no correct reaction. Choosing to stay with the first love in light of the second is false, but choosing to go with the second despite the first is hurtful. Both persons are lovable, both persons are loved, both persons could create happiness. In such a situation one could reason both that to switch from a successful, happy relationship to an unfounded, potentially happy relationship is a pointless risk, and conversely, that if such a chance is not taken, it will be regretted for as long as the hero lives.

Which side erred on and the complexities of the choice are critical to the development and depth of all characters involved.

Throughout his 12 years of Presidency, Franklin Delano Roosevelt acted surely, but prudently, recognizing his own weaknesses and taking actions to countermand them, maintaining candor with his nation. Few leaders that have come before or after him have dealt with issues so large or so lengthy, and fewer still have handled them well – with grace, compassion and wisdom.

Rhetoric is a poor substitute for action, and we have trusted only to rhetoric. If we are really to be a great nation, we must not merely talk; we must act big – Theodore Roosevelt.

When F.D.R. took office, the nation was ailing. Unemployment was at a historic peak, the banking system was faltering, and most were wanting for food. He spent his first one-hundred days in office proscribing policies that were to be the cure –ambitiously developing his New Deal, a clever and desperate ploy to revive the inert economy. The hundreds of agencies started by his administration provided relief, reform, and recovery. Several, including the FDIC and the SSS (questionable though it is), still do.

Success depends upon previous preparation, and without such preparation there is sure to be failure – Confucius.

The same forethought that allowed F.D.R. to deal so aptly with domestic and economic reform propelled him to instate the first peace-time draft and to start lend-lease programs with the Allies. His fear of an inevitable war with domineering aggressor nations prepared the U.S. for the day Japan struck Pearl Harbor – the military was already in training.

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing – Socrates.

Aware of his inadequacies and lack of omniscience, Roosevelt encouraged advice from the most competent minds in the nation, his “brain trust”, using the specific wisdom of professionals to custom-tailor his plans.

The best weapon of a dictatorship is secrecy, but the best weapon of a democracy should be the weapon of openness- Niels Bohr.

The fire-side chats were brilliant, reassuring and coaxing an anxious nation through the power of personal contact. Roosevelt worked with the press, not against them, to form an alliance that the people could rely on. With an easy-going, informal living-room manner, he won over the people’s support, and kept them well-informed of his policies.

In a leadership position, I too shall seek to be open to audit, prepared for the worst, and aware of the people’s will.
Like Roosevelt, I shall attempt to take quick, deliberate action against pre-existing problems, prevent future problems, maintain intimacy and honesty with those I represent, and solve international problems multilaterally.
Yet, with respect to Roosevelt’s august achievements, I will not actively emulate any leader. Modern circumstances call for innovation, not duplication; recognition, not worship.
The words of many leaders can provide a guidebook, and the actions of many individuals can form a historical outline, but it is the responsibility of self to discern the imperatives of the present.

NASA is an enormous, Houston-wide set of complexes bustling with diversity. Aeronautical engineers, software developers, and even Astronauts-in-training settle here, in Clear Lake, for ready access to the Johnson Space Center. My parents are not aeronautical engineers or hopeful-Astronauts, and while sometime in the mid-eighties my mother did contract with NASA as a software engineer, she has been focused in the private sector since long before I was born.
Even so, living here, she and I have become steadily accustomed to, even defensive of, a hetero-cultured, poly-religious society.
Houston, smoggy though its petroleum-refineries may leave it, is still a cluster of culture – not always art and music, but lifestyles and religions – and a magnet of intellect. It is here, in Houston, that I have found a conglomeration of kindred-souls, who, by virtue of their very being, have molded my world-view.
An abysmally low number of people outside my small haven (even the 4th largest city in the United States is small compared to the population of the entire Earth) see the potential of those outside their own kind. Even members of my extended family don’t always recognize the human dignity and worth of those separated from them by an imaginary, but surprisingly opaque, line. Bigotry freezes their hearts, egotism inflates their heads, and misplaced patriotism enflames their righteousness. Racism, sexism, “religion-ism”, sect-ism. They all blur together in the fury of one hatred, one misunderstanding. One lack of empathy.
I guard those who are different when I can – we all guard each other. But ignorance is the most wide-spread of all evils – a truth I have learned not from my community, but from the comparison of my community with so many others. A truth reinforced at debate tournaments every weekend, where I regularly see immature, culturally-inspired attacks vying for the judge’s pathos.
My friends can save themselves from the danger of ignorance merely by being open and altruistic. And they have, time and again. Our community has, in the spirit of science, questioned then accepted, and my friends and their parents have passed all the tests. But too much of society won’t give them a chance, drawing up the walls of prejudice tightly, like fingers over five-year-old eyes.
I would guard my friends forever, if I could. Save them from the burden of bias. Shelter them from passionate ignorance.
I will save them. Somehow, I will; I am certain. I will save them by passing policies which assume their equality and competence, and by expecting others to do the same. I will save them by proving that the mind is unique, but it is still the mind, regardless of its possessor. I will save them by showing that the brain hosts the mind, and the mind hosts the soul. I will save them by allowing them the opportunity to save themselves.
I will save them because I know that only a world which accepts them will be truly liberated, truly safe, truly honest. Only a world which accepts them will be open to progress. Only a world which accepts them will be able to cope with the dwindling oil supply, the Middle Eastern wars, the possibility of nuclear fallout.
Only a world which accepts them will be able to reach the stars.

There is a danger to knowledge. A subtle danger to knowing, a certain danger to the lack of it. There is a danger – revealed in the twisting machinations of manipulation and emotionless frigidity of pure facts. Mostly, there is a danger in the harshness of what others can lord over you.
There is a danger to knowledge – a danger to another’s one-sided knowledge – to what you cannot know. There is a reasoning intensity, a plea for trust, but knowledge is treacherous. Knowledge holds no allegiance, commands no code of honor. Even the truthful are at risk of being struck for their impiety, their inability.
And yet I revere knowledge – worship it, a child presuming to be a priestess in the secular temple of infinite sagacity. I revere knowledge - idolize it, audaciously hoping to understand the enigmatic.
There is a danger to knowledge, when it isn’t mine.

While a historical Jesus of Nazareth may have existed, there is no evidence he was the Christ. Proof may deny the potency of faith; using reason to critique the purposely irrational may be unfair, if not outright impossible. And yet, what are senses for, if not use? Why be able to analyze, if you should not? Using empirical evidence and my admittedly limited knowledge of psychology, I am able to reach certain conclusions.

I am a proponent of Judeo-Christian values, they provide a much appreciated moral framework from which believers base decisions – and the church regularly reminds constituents of their spiritual obligations.
Further, the idea of a Jesus – a theoretically perfect man: selfless, compassionate, infinitely forgiving, and omnipotent – gives Christians clear security and goals.
Other religious figureheads are similar – a means to show disciples, ancient and modern alike, how to live peacefully with one another; they are role-models given mythic status to incur the wrath of divinity on rule-breakers and non-believers.
This makes historical and psychological sense: before the advent of heavy reason and scientific inquiry, mere subsistence imposed violent hardships, and the mystic nature of even the simplest phenomena left the wisest soothsayers in awe. Hence, belief in the grandiose was less uncommon and of greater necessity.
Yet, there is backlash to the pristine obedience such religions command – a reason to depart from them and to move towards an individual enforcement of moral values: the carrot-stick mentality of an afterlife, while good for reinforcing moral standards, causes much tension among worried mortals. As grace and salvation are limited to singular and conflicting groups of people whose memberships are primarily composed of ‘God’s chosen’ – the culturally and environmentally pre-disposed – holy wars are the naturally resultant invalidation attempts waged by one religion on another.

So, are there other routes to the peace religions profess to defend, without the animosity which they inspire?

There are the Lockian ideals: life, liberty and property, and Nozick’s Libertarian vision of moral side-constraints – no action should be taken that will violate another’s rights; no harm should be done to another. If somewhat religiously inspired, they nourish no need for resentment.
Even more primal, however, there is the common human trait and ability of empathy – best summed up in the ‘Golden Rule’: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Blending this premise with Descartes, I am able to affirm that if I think and, therefore am, then others think and are as well. If I do not wish to be harmed or persecuted, others too, will not wish to be harmed or persecuted. If I would want food, water and shelter, then I will work to ensure others have those necessities. While the argument can be made that this is forcing westernization onto the world, that argument is defeated through pure Darwinian self-preservation: all humans wish to survive, and wishing to survive, they wish to excel, in order to be best placed for the propagation of their own genes. Therefore, they will accept any means of advancement. Further, the need to avoid harm and pain is a universal value, not simply a Western one, as all races grimace when tortured, and only the psychotic, emo, or especially kinky deliberately engage in masochism.

The only reason left to pursue religion in a progressive era, in an age yearning for peace, is personal contact with the divine. And yet, even among the most devout, there is never an absolute answer in prayer, only an innate knowledge of what should be done – a knowledge derived not from ‘conversation’ but from the forced focus on, and weighing of, morality. There is simply meditation with self and self’s own code of being, where “God” exists solely to impose an imperative on this routine self-acknowledgment of goals and wrongs done. Selfless and global, in retrospect, pious resolutions are clearly correct all-along, but put-off until there is such an audit.

If empathy can proscribe morality, and inner-peace is brought by honest reflection, what need is there for the intolerances of religion, which betray their own cause?

Nobody thinks I’m invincible anymore, not one person. Or at least, I can’t imagine how they could. In the past, scores of people examined my hectic life and my temperament in the face of injustice, and concluded I must be perfect, sweet, indefatigable. Nobody thinks so anymore, for under duress, I have the habit of humanizing myself.
Empathy causes me to trust sooner than, in retrospect, I, paranoid as I am, should be allowed to. I trust and then I confidingly reveal the secrets that make me distraught when I am alone. And though at the time my confidant and I are mutually indebted, slowly our congeniality fades. Soon enough, I am left with yet another person who sees through my calm appearance and measures my flimsy pretexts.
Nobody thinks I’m invincible anymore because inevitably, in the midst of late night conversation, I admit not only to my mortality but to my sinfulness. I am not only fatigable but also corrupt; my optimism is often superficial. Nobody thinks I’m invincible anymore because innocently, stupidly, when I let my guard down I admit, just as I am admitting now, to my own imperfection.
So they thought I was invincible. They thought I would save the world or at least help finish their homework. They thought I would take everything with a grin and a too-loud-laugh. They thought I was stable and confident and sweet. They thought I was perfect and indefatigable. They thought.
Until I broke down, then they knew better.