Suffice it to say, this and three other tiffs I got into today meant that by the end of my two hours - of near silence - it had been concluded that I "was really mean and rude". Well, no, I just don't like people who fail to see the stupidity of what they're saying. He has every right to believe that time is cyclical if he has any justification for it other than "there was once an ice-age". Blind faith is fine if you're believing in something immaterial (OK, it's not fine - but it's bearable), but when you're trying to discuss tangible, scientific, empirical concepts you cannot blithely attribute things to past happenings and obstinately dig your feet in just because you have a 'hunch'. I once had a hunch. Turns out you can't make cat-smoothies. This kind of stubbornness just obfuscates issues to people who are undecided. I'd much rather a conversation with a person who is unsure - as I myself am on myriad issues - than with a person who just chirrups infantile platitudes about human consequences being null because of time being cyclical. I hate to call that kind of rambling inane and unfounded, but well, it's both.
Anyway, this wasn't the event that galvanized the Jack-hatred into action. No, apparently that was because I "rained on the parade". One of my classmates has a signed collector's case (or something) from this band. That is fine. He has never opened it, and never will; because it will "ruin it". That is fine. He travelled miles, and spent hundreds of pounds in order to buy something from each of the members' brands just so he could get this special case for them all to sign. This is fine. What is not fine is defending this (because it does need to be defended) by pretending that it is because you "love them". No, you do not. You love the idea of them. Stalkers tend towards the shrine-life, don't they? There's a reason for that. They have no idea who the person they're infatuated with is - they love the idea of that person that they have fictionalised in their mind. This classmate can deny the reality of these people's lives by keeping the seal in tact on his special box. If he breaks said seal and looks inside he will have to accept the fallibility of the people he idealises: he will have to accept that several of them have been brought up on drugs charges, and that one of them was once arrested for causing harm with intent (or something) in a nightclub. It may have even been GBH. Obviously, accepting and loving a person means loving them including their faults; and not, as is commonly thought, despite of their faults. If I have time I will talk about that in a minute. Idealising a conceptualised person disallows for the intrusion of reality; but acceptance of their failings ruins the idealisation and breaks the illusion. I was arguing that he did not "love them", rather that he loved "the idea of them". To me there seems no other logical explanation for his blind subservience.
Now it's fine to love the thought of someone. There's a reason 'the chase' is such an 'exciting' part of new relationships. It's because of the unknown; but not the unknown that most people assume. It's because in your head you have this beautiful, illustrious creation of perfection: free of blemishes; scar-free, mole-free, freckle-free, aesthetically perfect - and intelligent, quick-witted, amusing, selfless, friendly, companionable, and a multitude of other impossibilities. Once the disappointing reality is realised, the chase ends and tolerance reigns over adoration. That's a sad fact of life for most people I am afraid. I know it's a cliché (almost wrote "banal cliché" there - lol tautology) to say that "don't have high hopes, you'll avoid disappointment" but it works! You don't have to have 'low hopes'. The spectrum is defined by its borders, it's not just its borders - silly! You can slide towards the positive and still have some sense of reality. Naturally, love is blind and sometimes just slavishly worshipping a person can be fun (I've done it) but you need to have some perspicacity lest you spend your life in peaks and troughs of depression and jubilation. Please don't get me wrong: I am not trying to deny this person his fun or his passion, nor am I suggesting that people should spend their lives with my kind of attitude. I myself struggle to turn my philosophy to life - it's an infinite and pointless struggle. I ride the crest of infatuation like the next person, and I splash back to earth with a splat as well. I just think that life could be better if we could contain ourselves sometimes.
The person just needs to stop pretending that he "loves them", because I'm a firm believer that you cannot love someone without knowing at least something about them. You can lust after them, you can be completely obsessed, a Cotard sufferer gliding the earth; entombed in your own visions of perfection. You can be whatever you want - but you cannot love a person just from the thought of them. If you feel I am being too cynical, then you can stretch my hypothesis to make it more accommodating. You cannot love a person without knowing them, and you can love the idea of them - but I suppose you can also love your version of them. That's not necessarily the idea of them, because that is destined to be at least grounded in real-life - if not exactly close to it. You can create the person in your ideals and then love that, if you'd like; but it's no different to falling in love with an animal, or an object. Objectum sexuality for all! Still reminds me of 'scrotum'. Anyway. Yes, if I want to extend my argument beyond my own myopia I'm going to need to suggest that if you have ever loved the idea of a person then you need to accept that people can fuck trees or fall in love with cows. You cannot have one, but resist the other - because to resist one is to resist the other. Conceptualised, or idealised, love cannot be split into categories because it is undefinable. Hmm. I like that. So he can go on loving the idea of Girls Aloud, he just cannot pretend he loves them. Also - they suck.
Just to pre-empt any kind of "love is irrational" criticism. No, it's not. You are. Love cannot be rational or irrational. So, go away with that.
So this was the second event which meant that I was a heartless bastard who rains on everyone's parade (admittedly this was like the third time I'd spoken in over an hour, but it needed to be said). I wasn't trying to start an argument, and I wasn't suggesting that he should be ashamed, or that anyone should be offended, or that anyone was being stupid: I was simply stating my opinion. The third gross humanitarian raping was the fact I didn't believe that Cristiano Ronaldo had personally signed a birthday-card for one of my other classmates. Apparently her mum sent it off six-months before Christmas, and he signed it on his one day a week where he signs cards. Now... I mean. Yes, I can... well. No. I can't see that happening at all. I can see him 'signing' it, but I cannot see him genuinely writing out X number of personalised Christmas and birthday cards. That would take an unbelievable amount of time for someone who is presumably devastatingly busy (he does get paid like £8bajillion a week). I wasn't trying to detract from the obvious thoughtfulness of the mother, or from the meaningfulness of the card, or from how much she enjoyed it... I was just voicing my thoughts that perhaps she didn't need to blindly believe that he had hand-written the entire thing himself just for her. I just thought it was kinda infantile.
Actually. I can kinda see why people got annoyed at this last one. I kinda burst a bubble, there. I feel bad, sorta. So that's why I'm rude and mean, or something. Bah, none of them think I'm nice anyway. It's because I don't care to hide my indifference to their mundane stories. I could easily be more like the person I sit next to: happy to mendaciously feign interest in what they're saying; just so he can get away with being snide when they've finished. When the Ronaldo-card story got told, he acted interested - whilst I laughed - and then when it had finished he turned round and mock-berated me, before whispering to me "yeah, I see her point about not wanting to bring it here in case it gets stolen: that'd be the first thing a burglar would be looking to grab". Damn he's good. That made me weep with laughter.
---------------------------
So I said I'd talk about loving someone despite of their flaws. And I will. But briefly I expect. If I've already gone on for too long and you've gotten bored I guess I could probably just pretend that I've written about it and write a beautifully phrased conclusion twenty lines down? Just like the idea that letters can be in any order within a word (probably down to the bouma-shape) I could just lob something interesting at the beginning, and stick something closing at the ending. Hmm. Nah. I will be good. Incidentally, if you're unsure what I'm muttering about with that bouma shite, read this:
It's that whole semi-myth that you can stick letters wherever you please and still understand the words. You probably know it, but I thought it safe to stick it in in case you were unaware. It's interesting if you weren't aware of it :).
Anyway. I moderate a forum on this here internet - I know, I just can't help but reach out to the wider community - and on this forum people are always harping on about how they're still with their boyfriend or girlfriend "even though they...", "despite the fact he...", "although she always...", and I get a bit sick of it to be honest. Those kinds of 'tolerances' should only be for things that are surprising, or huge. If a person bites their nails, you should continue loving them "despite that" - because that means you have to love them despite of the fact that they do this too heavily, or tread too lightly, or smell too weakly, or play their playstation too badly. Stop bemoaning people's little idiosyncrasies because I guarantee you if they didn't have these little quirks then you'd get fucking bored with them - and very quickly at that. I don't know if people want jelly-like blobs they can just mould to their own ends, or if people genuinely believe that if you change enough of someone's traits then suddenly you'll love them more. You fell in love with them because of who they were -- stop trying to make them stop.
Grr.
No comments:
Post a Comment