Fragments
of a Philosophy
We are not happy campers; we have lost our moral center and our way.
James
R. Fisher, Jr., Ph.D.
©
March 21, 2019
For
at least a century now, we have been moving away from our moral center in a
mania to belong to and with others in a kind of anonymity.
We have complimented ourselves because we can explain away all our aberrant and problematic behaviors in acceptable psychological, psycho-social, and psychiatric terms.
At the same time, while seemingly understanding nothing about ourselves, the labels with which we tattoo our bodies have taken on a life of importance of their own.
We have become more interested in becoming than in being, more committed to making an impression than a difference, more concerned about getting credit than finding fulfillment in doing something satisfying.
We have invented tools to proliferate an artificial mechanistic world in which machines can do our thinking and work more proficiently than we can so that increasingly there is no place for our species other than to follow the Master Machine.
We are now close to total self-estrangement reduced to writing volumes on the condition failing to see how absurd this proposition.
We want desperately to consider ourselves worthwhile while ignoring the "center within" that provides identity, moral direction and authentic courage.
We have retreated in despair persuading ourselves that life has no meaning, that the conscious self is a figment of the imagination along with the idea that life is worth living.
We take comfort in the catchphrase, "life is a bitch and then we die," proving existence is a sham, and that the idea of God suggests the consciousness of a worm.
Alas, we now relate to each other as automatons that the MACHINE AGE predicted we would become. If we don't buy into into the Machine Age as God, then we are likely to be labeled autistic or something much worse, human beings.
We have complimented ourselves because we can explain away all our aberrant and problematic behaviors in acceptable psychological, psycho-social, and psychiatric terms.
At the same time, while seemingly understanding nothing about ourselves, the labels with which we tattoo our bodies have taken on a life of importance of their own.
We have become more interested in becoming than in being, more committed to making an impression than a difference, more concerned about getting credit than finding fulfillment in doing something satisfying.
We have invented tools to proliferate an artificial mechanistic world in which machines can do our thinking and work more proficiently than we can so that increasingly there is no place for our species other than to follow the Master Machine.
We are now close to total self-estrangement reduced to writing volumes on the condition failing to see how absurd this proposition.
We want desperately to consider ourselves worthwhile while ignoring the "center within" that provides identity, moral direction and authentic courage.
We have retreated in despair persuading ourselves that life has no meaning, that the conscious self is a figment of the imagination along with the idea that life is worth living.
We take comfort in the catchphrase, "life is a bitch and then we die," proving existence is a sham, and that the idea of God suggests the consciousness of a worm.
Alas, we now relate to each other as automatons that the MACHINE AGE predicted we would become. If we don't buy into into the Machine Age as God, then we are likely to be labeled autistic or something much worse, human beings.
No comments:
Post a Comment