The Conditions for Altruism

Listening to a live performance (on one of my favorite Rhode Island Radio Stations-WRIU) of Gregory Porter’s No Love Dying and the crowd’s reaction at the end of the song, I came upon the thought that this idea of feeling a part of “something greater than ourselves” and how important it is for the success of our species, is rather easy to manufacture. If it needs manufacturing at all.

Aren’t the people cheering at the conclusion of a song, moved beyond something other than themselves? Haven’t they engaged in a song/music community? Have they not left their own head –between their own two ears to be a part (the very word necessitates “other”) of something beyond their individual body/mind? Haven’t they served witness to the engagement with the surroundings? But, it may be retorted, is this communal experience enough to facilitate this greater than ourselves feeling? Could the community experienced at a music concert be considered equal to ourselves and not solicit the kind of altruism associated with the greater than ourselves sentiment?

No. To exist is to exist as a being-in-the-world. Surrounded. Always. By the world, by others. And this environment (umwelt) is not experienced atomistically, moment by moment needing to be accumulated ex post facto; no, the environment is experienced in a totality, as a gestalt, as a figure-ground, with the figure and the ground forming the phenomenological, perceived world that is always greater than and always a part of the perceiver, always a member of the team, always an inescapable family member, tribe member, nation member, species member, universe member. 

So, this feeling doesn’t need manufacturing for altruism. Feeling a part of something greater than ourselves is the default setting. 

The question at hand is why there isn’t more altruism. Another point to ponder is if this inescapable feeling a part of something greater than ourselves is in fact, the very reason there isn’t more altruism.

The Runner’s Smoothie – Another Cautionary Tale

Most runners like to, what we call, replenish, after a good long run and many replenish with, what many call, a smoothie.

A smoothie is a concoction of various substances like frozen and non-frozen fruits such as blueberries and/or bananas and perhaps, yogurt, either flavored or non, and also juices or liquids of some sort, many of which aim to, what we call, we being runners, replenish, what we call, electrolytes, that are, what we call, lost during long runs.

Now, the mechanism used to create, what we call our, smoothies, varies. Some will use a blender. Some will use a hand held mixer, just like the one you have in your cabinet. You may use yours for soups but us runners, we use it, for what we call, our smoothies. Still others will use what is called a food processor. All mechanisms blend the substances, or what some culinary minded might call, ingredients, into a smooth, drinkable, well, drink. That is how the name, smoothie, came about.

Of the mechanisms involved, be it blender, hand held mixer, or food processor, there is always the issue of what many call, clean up, after concocting the aforementioned, aptly named, smoothie.

One of the reasons, many, let us call them, smoothie makers, opt for blenders or hand held mixers, is the ease of clean up with these particular smoothie making mechanisms.

Clean-up as it is called is much more, perhaps involved, is the right word, with a food processor. A food processor has more parts than either the blender or the food processor. This is why clean up, as it is called, is more, involved. More parts equals, as they say, more clean up.

One of the more difficult parts in cleaning a food processor, after making a smoothie designed to restore electrolytes after a long run, is cleaning the blade and the plastic that houses the blade, especially underneath the housing unit, of the blade. Cleaning the plastic pieces that help to contain the elements, or ingredients, during smoothie making, is easy, or less involved than cleaning the food processor blade and blade housing unit, especially underneath the housing unit. Simply rinsing the, let us call them containing units, or pieces, and placing them in an electronic dishwasher for further cleansing involves less work than cleaning the food processor blade and plastic housing unit. The blade and plastic housing unit need to be cleaned by hand. Hence the term, more involved.

Cleaning the food processor blade and housing unit, especially underneath, or what could be called the backside, requires special care. Very special care. In using the food processor, over the blender or hand held mixer to make a smoothie for after a long run to replace lost electrolytes, left over, or what could be called, remaining, substances, can remain in the, what will now be called the blade housing unit, if not properly, carefully cleansed, by hand, due to the fact that sharp blades should not be cleansed in an electronic dishwasher because they dull the blade.

Recently, a smoothie was made, in a food processor, after a long run, to help restore lost electrolytes, lost during the long run but, care had not been taken during previous hand held washings, or cleansings if you prefer, of the blade housing unit. Because of the careless, less-than-vigilant hand held washings of the blade housing unit, remaining substances from a previous smoothie, now rotten and toxic, clinging to the underside of the blade housing unit, found themselves, inserted, or a part of the, now, currently-being-made-almost-about-to-be-drank smoothie. To restore lost electrolytes. 

These, as previously called, remaining substances, now toxic and rotten and old, entered into the blood stream of the drinker of the smoothie, in an attempt to restore lost electrolytes, causing abdominal pains and stomach cramps in the stomach of the drinker of the smoothie who was merely attempting to restore lost electrolytes after a long run. The long run was seven miles in distance. Perhaps not meeting the definition of a “long run” for many runners, but meeting the definition for the runner who made the smoothie that was drank.

In addition to stomach cramps and abdominal pain, there occurred frequent trips to the bathroom, or what some in England, or the United Kingdom, might call the loo. This could, perhaps somewhat humorously, be spelled, L-O-U. After many hours, enduring pains and cramps and frequent trips to the L-O-U, even including and up until, the middle of the night, defined by some as up to but not after 1:00 a.m. eastern standard time, the pains and cramps and frequent trips to the bathroom subsided, allowing for much deserved, pain-free rest after a long run, of seven miles. The seven miles were run in 55:45 for those interested in pacing the run.

Later, upon review of the blade housing unit, there was spotted, rotted, left over from a previous smoothie, ingredients, probably in this case, frozen blueberries, on the underside of the blade housing unit. It has been determined that these, left over, remaining, turned toxic ingredients were to blame for the abdominal cramps, stomach pains, and frequent trips to the bathroom. As a result, more care will be taken to, hand held, clean the blade housing unit, especially, underneath, where substances or ingredients might attach and rot and fester and enter into the digestive system of a runner merely hoping to replace lost electrolytes lost during a “long run” of seven miles, in 55:45.

It has been gleaned, or learned, that a qtip, usually reserved for cleaning ear wax, or a small wire brush, often called a bottle cleaning brush, is the best implement, or implements, plural, to clean the blade housing unit, especially underneath.

Perspective

Perspective. 

One can never see a thing in its entirety. (You see the front of the font of the word “perspective” above but what might it look like from behind?) 

You are skeptical. 

Click

Vision is limited.

Can one think a thing in its entirety?

You think 2+2=4 but are you thinking it in its entirety or is thinking limited the way vision is?

Vision requires a blind spot. Requires. Vision necessitates blindness.

You are skeptical.

Click

What does thinking (or consciousness) necessitate?

Existential Hangover

The morning sun beat down on his bed as if attached to a fire house siren inside a continuous thunder clap. Gooey throbs of pain pulsed at his temples in different intervals allowing no girding; only wincing ex post facto. His barren mouth yenned for liquid but that would require movement and movement increased the pain –everywhere. His pulse could be found in his throat driving straight up and out of his skull bending his brain and shoving it out of the way for escape. He was stuck in the fetal position as this seemed to be the safest position, something about going back to how you were in the womb was obvious. Here he would stay for another 6 hours, motionless but fiercely battling alcohol poisoning. 

After six hours he could move and he needed to as now the vomiting commenced. A white hot retch after retch above a cold, calculating orifice was his price. While the old pains waved and beat in his body like a flag in a storm, a new more physical, structural, in-the-bones pain surfaced, burning his throat and punching his abdomen and back retch after retch, heave after heave. Blood began to show in the vomit, at first droplets, followed by splotches, puddling into half cups in the desecrated water. He’d been sick before but never this much blood before. At last retch, only blood spewed from his mouth leaving a heinous blood film on his teeth, the taste there, in his mouth, like some horrible infinite regress. 

He could have called 911. He probably should have called 911. Didn’t they say that time heals all wounds or was it that time wounds all heals? This tautology, this axiom, this objective truth melding into a nihilism in his body, born from fermentation, from rotting, from time (there it is again) could not be outstripped. He could not fallacy his way out of it, there was no cognitive dissonance, and there was no forced dichotomy to appeal to, for help. There was death from the poison or there was recovery, then death. The variable was time.

More DFW - Isn't That A Song By The Vaughan Brothers?

Just finished David Lipsky's book on DFW. 

Fun read. The moral of the story, for me, is how satisfied he was with Infinite Jest essentially (from the greek ontos - that without which a thing cannot exist) because he worked so hard on it. He is heavy handed in the conversations that the fluff is superfluous (insert Woody Allen line from Mighty Aphrodite: "I'm superfluous. What you don't feel good?" Oddly enough, DFW found Allen "schticky") and that the satisfaction is from the hard work he put in on the book. This is not debatable. Well maybe it is debatable but that would be superfluous ((insert Woody Allen line from Mighty Aphrodite: "I'm superfluous. What you don't feel good?" Oddly enough, DFW found Allen "schticky")

Seriously folks, I was class clown in 1988 for a reason and this class clown would have loved to have traded some "crackin'" with DFW. He and Lipsky riffed a few times and it made me want to jump in there and wordsmith right along. 

And of course the quote on the back, the bit about treating ourselves as precious. Somber. Bittersweet. 

Futile?

(The Vaughan Brothers' DFW )

More Thoughts on David Foster Wallace

More Thoughts on David Foster Wallace

While reading David Lipsky’s ‘Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself – A Road Trip With David Foster Wallace’ a few particular passages caught my attention, especially in relation to my earlier posts regarding D.T. Max’s Every Love Story Is A Ghost Story and my earlier posts on randomness:

(bottom of page 137)

So which rec chemicals have you tried?

I did some acid in high school. I did a lot of it for about six months and then--I never felt like I was the same again after that. It messed with me. I would encourage those of your readers not yet at puberty to stay away from stuff until at least …

Is it reasonable to believe that heavy use of heavy drugs before the brain is, as they say, “cooked” can alter the process? Is it reasonable to believe this impacted David’s, if we want to call it such, predisposition to depression?

(bottom of page 145)

But I don’t think I’m all that different. I’ll bet you’ve got three of four things (one might be addicted to), you know that you’re like that with. And one of the things I noticed in the halfway house is the difference between me and like a twenty-one-year-old prostitute who is dying of AIDS, who’d been doing heroin since she was eleven, is, is a matter of accidents.

As they say, it is a fine line.