Friday, July 12, 2013

... Of Sitzfleisch, Intelligence, And A Godless Liberal.

It seems that all debates around highly polarized topics will eventually degenerate into basic name calling, mud slinging and, at times, even threats of physical violence. I am aware that this is a broad generalization, but this has been my experience when debating politics, morality, and religion. The most reasonable debates were those fueled by copious amounts of good beer – which makes me wonder if the beer sufficiently stymied any desires to engage in physical violence. Don't get me wrong, all these conversations had all the other elements – inventive name calling, mud slinging, and endless red herrings but somehow never degenerated into actual violence. The old gang was proficient in the art of stirring around, chewing over, and spitting out the same amount of bullshit over several hours of imbibing – the bull sessions always being cut short by a last call or a change of venue. Whatever the outcome – somehow these conversations never degenerated into actual violence. Don't get me wrong there were always veiled threats of grievous bodily harm tossed about – but they were mere rhetorical flourishes.

I believe that if one of our great debates had ever devolved into a violent confrontation – it would have been recorded as the greatest bar fight ever. The stuff of legends – cranky intellectuals removing glasses and jackets, rolling up sleeves, and promptly sitting down to hash out the rules of conduct. A few beers later and we would have forgotten what might have prompted the initial argument. Of course, the moment we looked back through the drunken fog of our severely and collectively impaired recall would lead us down another path to an argument that dead-ended at the point we wondered what we was arguing about; in other words, it was just pointless argumentation for the sake of argumentation. The alcohol fueled the debate which then enhanced the journey towards severe intoxication. Most of the debate after the sixth beer is really obfuscated by dead brain cells and time. There are so many missing parts in those memories – there are times I will run into a buddy from those days and they mention some aspect of a particular debate or evening and I am too flabbergasted to even conceive having participated in that conversation. I blame it on the alcohol.

Hindsight really has perfect vision and allows us to wear rose colored glasses when we reminisce on certain aspects of our misspent youth. However, I am still unable to recall instances when I have felt the violent intent behind someone's vitriol. There seems to be an added element of bravado within the social media realm. I read a seemingly innocuous comment – granted it was political in nature – deteriorate into threats of violence and bodily harm. The defining comment of that thread was a claim by some offended idjit that he was better in politics than the rest of the commentators as he had 'a masters.' As if that educational qualification translated to intelligence. At the end of the day, a Master's degree has nothing to do with intelligence, but has all to do with sitzfleisch. Sitzfleisch is that in-built tenacity to endure and sit through endless, boring lectures, while developing a specialized terminology. There is a saying that advises never to allow your education to interfere with your schooling. Your college education will turn you into a piece of shit that treats people based on titles rather than substance.

Anyway, I write all this because of that silly Facebook comment and because I was reminded of those debates while admiring the views from Pikes Peak. I was there to scatter the remains of a good friend from those days. Jerry kicked the bucket after he and his truck lost an argument with a tree in the back roads of his hometown. He survived long enough to get a message to me to follow through on how we had promised to dispose of each other's remains when we eventually shuffled off this mortal coil. His wish was to be turned into bird feed and be scattered to the four winds off Pikes' Peak. My mission was to ensure his family neither pumped him full of chemicals nor planted him in any ground. I assure you that is a conversation you do not want to have with a grieving, yet deeply religious family – especially, when you have to explain that their late son was not only irreligious, but was a confirmed, bleeding heart, godless liberal. Fun times!

Here's a thought that Jerry would have enjoyed: When people are fanatically dedicated to political or religious faiths or any other kind of dogmas or goals, it's always because these dogmas or goals are in doubt. Robert M. Pirsig, author and philosopher (b. 1928)

Have fun always!!

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