Irene: Why are you giving these people a hard time? They seem to find peace in their point of view, so why take it away from them?

T : Because, what is expressed in this argument, if taken a face value, would not so much be a philosophy, as a mental illness, and I don't believe in allowing those to propogate unchecked.

If you think that the feelings of relaxation that seem to come from holding the point of view in question are signs to the contrary, then I would urge you to do some volunteer work in a psychiatric ward, and take a careful look at those who have really lost contact with the outside world. In more than a few cases, he'll see complete bliss - an almost mindless bliss, devoid of coherent thought. Without pain, but also without the fullness of life.

You should take a careful look at them. There is more of them in many of us, than we may care to acknowledge.

There is a term for what is being done, here. It is called "pollyannaism", after a character in a children's film, named Pollyanna, who plays something called "the glad game", in which she finds a reason to be happy about EVERYTHING, no matter how unpleasant. It is a very destructive trait, because it robs people of the strength of will needed to vigorously, and effectively oppose that, which they are no longer honest enough, with themselves, to be willing to admit to themselves, that they greatly mind or regret.

It's an extreme form of cowardice. Confronted with the reality of a bad situation, the "healthy" option encouraged, is to sink deeply into denial, and refuse to accept the reality, of the unpleasantness - losing touch with reality, rather than coping with it on an adult level.

Robert: Whatever. OK, Irene, I REALLY don't want to rain on your parade here, or start a range war, but let's be real. Who really did know this guy? And why should his passing mean any more than anyone else dying?

T : Why should it matter any less? We know of a sad event, and acknowledge that it is sad. What is your issue with this?

Robert: My, Irene, your voice has grown deep!

T : Do I need your permission to openly disagree with what you just said? How convenient for the promotion of your point of view, if you get to pick and choose who will be speaking in opposition to what you have to say.

I'll speak my mind when I see fit, not when you see fit, and if you don't like it, noone is blocking the door. Feel free to use it.

Robert: Unfriendly, aren't we?

T : Merely assertive. Get used to it. You chose to argue in a public place, and put yourself in a public forum - in a group discussion, not a private one on one. To then attempt to stifle someone else as he exercises his right of reply, after you throw out an argument to the group, is hardly a friendly act.

Belligerence earns belligerence in reply, and when I smile, it is out of sincere friendliness, not out of a desire to posture in such a way, that some find it unfashionable to notice the hypocrisy of.

Robert: Fine, if you want to be an (bleep!), that's your privilege.

OK, Irene ...

Considering that your friend was kind of a public figure, aren't the two the same? Who he was, when people were talking about him. was the only Dennis we knew, or had an opportunity to know.

Irene: A Dennis who a lot of people loved, but Jack, here, doesn't seem to want to take the time to find out why.

He's wishing death on someone, and it's easy for him. That's wrong. It should be easier for someone to care about another person, than to want to see him dead. But he just spouts off, and doesn't even try to make sure that he's doing the right thing. What a sick moron.

Robert: Sorry, but I don't get it. Dennis was suffering from a bad illness, and this ended it.

Irene: Yes, and we're sad that he got sick, and sad that he didn't get better. Get with the program, Bob, this isn't brain surgery.

Robert: Mind if I continue? He got to do good with his life, and then he died. The rest of us are still on this rock, he's wherever he is. Nothing we do can change any of this. Nothing we do can bring him back (I could be wrong, of course...). In my humble opinion ...

T : Ever notice how nothing humble ever seems to follow that phrase?

Robert: Like I was saying, before (bleep!) interrupted me ...

Your friend did much good and I will remember that fondly, though I will still puke if I hear about sad his death was, one more time.

Elaine: Not very friendly, but I understand what you're saying.

Could we maybe spend a little less time thinking about your friend's death, and a little more thinking about his life?

T : No objection to the latter, but there's just no helping the fact that the more you like what you hear about someone who has just died, the sadder you're going to be about the news of his death.

Somebody dies like this, in full view of a community, it's going to be hard for a lot of people to get that thought out of their heads. It does get tiring, maybe, if you never heard of the man, but it is how we, as a species, validate and reinforce our concern for each other. There is a word, "detached", for the condition of someone who ceases to feel pain at the thought of the misfortunes of others. That pain inspires the passion that drives us to watch out for our neighbors, and those who have lost this connection through sorrow, who have become detached, historically have made less than zealous efforts on behalf of those whose safety and well being depended, in a crucial way, on their efforts. In extreme cases, people have become so indifferent, as to cause great harm on a whim. We call these people "sociopaths".

In calling for unconditional happiness, what some are in effect calling for, is the end of compassion, and the beginning of a truly dark future for us all, should this point of view ever become popular enough. Amazingly, those who have attempted to make it so, are often thought of as being "nice people". At best, I would say that they have been unthinking people.

This change would not be one for the better. A philosophy that promotes this sort of change in attitude, is best not supported.

Elaine: Perhaps, but could we not look at the thoughts and memories that we have of the dead guy to be the basis upon which renewed life and love can spring forth? Maybe it isn't that we don't care about the departed, but just that we haven't lost hope.

T (raising eyebrow) : That sort of renewal you mention, is always a thing to be hoped for. That some of what was good in a person, will find expression in another. But the loss remains sadly real.

Elaine: I'm not sure if I agree.

Maybe it's true, that sometimes things just happen. Not by Divine will, fate, destiny, karma, or action of the collective subconscious, but by just random chance. And, true, sometimes these things seem to go counter to everything you thought about the way the world works.

But whether there is a cosmic reason for someone's death or not, is it not true, that nothing stops us from giving meaning to it?

T : You mean, decide to be insincere with oneself, and adopt a belief, not because it seems reasonable to one, but because believing it will make one happier? No. To do so is to distort one's view of reality - that very view that you used in the first place to ascertain which beliefs would or would not contribute to your happiness in a positive way. Worse still, idea follows upon idea, in a chain that proceeds throughout life, leading in directions that we can not imagine, much less see, yet. Each assumption, so dishonestly made, will lead to false conclusions, which will do likewise in turn. When one of those conclusions leads you into a bad choice, if you've deliberately fogged your own thoughts, how will you know that it is doing so?

It is not wise to live a lie, in this way, especially, if it ever is wise to live one at all. In general, the danger in believing that all is for the best, in this best of all possible worlds, is that it encourages the passive acceptance of things that might, through timely action, be changed, and which, left to themselves, might not be for the best.

Elaine: And you find comfort in this?

T : My comfort is not at issue. I would question, though, whether in supressing one's fears, one truly finds comfort, or merely changes the notion of which state of mind, one should attach the label of "happiness" to. Given the lack of a concrete definition of this state, and the impossibility of experiencing another's mental state, to see what he is experiencing when he says he is "happy" (for the sake of comparison with others), it is easy for him to lose track of what he used to think of as "happiness", especially if his standards for using that term change very slowly, over a long period of time.

I've seen more than a few "happy" people, go off of roofs, or break down in less drastic ways. I've seen more than a few "friendly" people, act in a way more easily understandable if they were hostile. Yet, they believe themselves to be well disposed toward others, and that they find joy in their presence. The broadness of a smile is can't be taken to be a safe guide to the joy to be found in a heart, until one knows how freely its owner will acknowledge, and accept what he truly feels, without pretense should it be something that he doesn't believe he "should" feel. A smile is just another label, like a word is, in this case, for something we really can't precisely define, and yet, in some sense, know is there to be defined (through our reactions), from direct experience.

The issue here, is my refusal to engage in self delusion, just to gain an illusion of happiness - the concept of happiness in place of the reality ever sought, and at best, ever in the process of being more completely attained, relatively speaking. I won't distort my view of reality, to make a senseless death seem meaningful. I don't think that anyone should.

Elaine: And this doesn't create any problems for you?

T : Of course it does. Any course of action one pursues will lead to problems. The only question is, which course will lead to the most livable set of problems. My position is that performing this sort of psychic lobotomy on oneself won't achieve that goal.

But, then, if one does not do so, one is left facing the possibility that the deceased has been annihilated, for no particularly good reason, without the comforting illusion that one's fears are unfounded.

Elaine: And you like that?

T : No. Perhaps that's the point, though. If we were to accept nature's decrees, as some have suggested we should, then we would have to face the fact that the sorrow that we feel at someone's passing is the most natural instinct there is. In suppressing it, one is seeking to fight one's own fundamental nature, something that can only result in violence being done to one's spirit.

It's not a pleasant feeling. Maybe it shouldn't be. The remembrance of such sorrow, gives us the determination to do what we can, to keep it from happening again. If we make ourselves truly oblivious to such negative emotions, as current fashion would encourage us to do, we will forget how bad the things that we felt so bad about, really were. Soon people will start saying things like "We all have to die sometime, so what's the big deal?" - and meaning them.

Life itself, will no longer be held so precious as it was before.

Once that happens, it becomes so very easy for us to make less than a diligent effort on behalf of each other when threatened, or even to sacrifice each others' lives lightly, on behalf of a pet cause, or merely to obtain something that they want. Witness the attitudes toward workplace safety we saw take hold during the fashionably forced cheerfulness of the Reagan era. At this point, morality itself will be in the process of being forgotten.

If I should lose my hesitation to toss away the life of another, because I no longer think of his death as a tragedy, what won't I feel free to do to him? How hesitant can I feel to damage one aspect of his existence, if I can easily bring myself to accept the destruction of the totality? If I find myself indifferent to the loss of another's existence, then how much determination will I feel to act on his behalf, if some part of that which I no longer value so highly, should be threatened? What happens to compassion?

Worse still, if this attitude should become prevalent, is that people will lose the will to watch out for their own well being, becoming easy prey for the predators among us, or for misfortunes that can be effectively responded to. It will be so easy to give up, and just let things happen to one, without struggle or vocal objection, once one refuses to admit to oneself, that the harm that is done to one as a result of doing so, really does matter. That is, once one loses the awareness of fear, that gives us the passion to fight for ourselves, when attacked. Those who would do harm to others, or lead them into harm's way, for their own selfish gain, or simple sadistic pleasure, will find less resistance, both from the victim, and those around him.

The people so mislead, will be as lambs to the slaughter, their own passivity being used to excuse the harm done, on the basis that the ones harmed did not object to the harm done them. Not much thought will be given to the reality that those remaining silent, did so because they were conditioned to think that they should. Or that the harm was left unmentioned, not for being absent, but because the victims yielded to societal pressure, and didn't let themselves become conscious of it. Why would it be given thought? If we've decided that truth is a thing to be ignored when it forces us to face our sorrow, or other unpleasant emotions, then why think about this? Why would those convinced to overlook the misfortunes of, or mistreatment done to themselves or others, let themselves face the unhappy reality of what it is, that they've let themselves be conned into helping promote?

It would be so much easier to just let things slide, ignoring those who would still have the bad taste to question what they've seen done. The horrors of our time would flourish unchecked, because we would no longer be allowed to think or speak openly about them. Every time that honest commentary about the horror we sincerely feel is stifled, it becomes so much harder to openly speak about it the next. And thus, the horror to be found from events without, in the world surrounding us, is less likely to be acknowledged as it is felt within, in our hearts that grow ever smaller.



What you ask us to throw away in order to gain the false peace of the moment is a piece of our very humanity, as you make that lack of concern a little more habitual on the part of some, and a little more customary in general. What follows will not be peaceful at all.

Pain is there for a reason. It keeps us human.

Elaine: And there is no alternative to this?

T : Of course there is. More than one. But they don't seem to work terribly well, all considered.

Some will try to find ways to rationalise the bad things that happen, and create the illusion for themselves that they are good, or at least not as bad as they actually are.

I don't know if that's a healthy thing to do. It seems to me that they are trying to interrupt the grieving process, before it has run its natural course. They might be able to bury the emotion, suppressing their conscious awareness of it. Having grown up in a community that embraced Stoicism as its dominant philosophy, with a little reminiscing, I could probably rattle off a few dozen good ways of doing just that. But there is a catch.

Negative emotions won't go away, simply because we, on some level, refuse to acknowledge their existence. All that will happen, when this is tried, is that the person trying it, will forget why the emotion is there, and will have all the more trouble in dealing with it. People who got in the habit of swallowing their anger, when they weren't dropping from stress related diseases, were noted for turning passive aggressive. Like the dear old lady who would have her relatives over as houseguests, and "forget" to mention that she had sprayed some of the cookware with Raid to keep the roaches down. People who got in the habit of swallowing their sorrow, ended up getting depressed. A pretty bad way to live.

Elaine: So, what's the alternative? Or don't you have one, Mr. Sunshine?

T : To work with every ability and tool at our disposal to fight the things that make us honestly sad, and to honestly face our sorrow when this effort fails. Maybe, to realise that while our fears are reasonable, hope remains.

As for the sorrow of those left grieving for another ...

They shouldn't fight it, but rather, acknowledge it, and just ride it out, until it uses itself up. Anger, you can dissipate by doing something about what is making you angry, but there is nothing that you can do right now that is going to fix the terrible event that you've heard about.

They should just wait, and of course know that it'll pass, as it becomes old news - if they let it fade out, and don't try to force it away, or make sense out of something that, in and of itself, doesn't make sense.

"If only I could somehow make sense of all this, if only I could understand why", one will say, but this is a hopeless wish.

It doesn't make sense. On an individual level, there is no why. The futile search for the reason that is not there to be found may distort the character, in the long run, of those who let it. This is a good one to let go of.

Elaine: Cheerful (bleep!), aren't you?

T : Adults often are.

Robert: I agree with Elaine. Lighten up.

Why is this upsetting you so much? Why don't you people just get over it? He's gone, why talk about it?

Irene: Because I am saddened by the manner of his untimely death. I was not a close friend of his, but I regretted this because the loss of a life in such useless circumstances is always sad.

Robert: Loss of life is sad? Don't you believe he goes on to a better place? Well then, why would you be saddened? Get over it.

Let's everyone find a new topic, OK?

T : OK, Robert, how about your callous idiocy? Would that make a good topic?

That last comment puts you in the enlightened company of the fundamentalists in Iran, who sent children off to die in battle, "knowing" that they were heaven bound.

To believe something is not to know it. As one heads out on a sunny day, with a 40% chance of precipitation being forecasted, one believes that it will not rain - but it's sensible to take an umbrella, just in case. One hedges one's bets, even in a matter so small as this. Should one display any less caution, when what is at stake, is not the dryness of one's clothes, but someone's very existence?

To announce that one doesn't consider death to be any big deal, because one believes that the deceased is "going to a better place", is to refuse to take one's own fallibility - never more strongly at play - into account, confusing faith with knowledge. What if you're wrong? What if your faith is mistaken, and all that lies on the other side is oblivion? Or eternal, and universal torment at the hands of a sadistic diety that we never imagined the existence of?

Do I believe that either is the case? No. Could I honestly claim to KNOW that neither is true? Only if I shared your arrogance. Given the uncertainty that any thinking person does know is involved here, one must, as in the case of the sunny day mentioned above, make provisions for the possibility that one's gut reactions, are grossly in error, as they are wont to be. If you believe that gut reactions are infallible, look at how strongly a fundamentalist Christian believes that Jesus is God, and how equally strongly a fundamentalist Muslim believes that he is not. In at least one case, a fervent faith has lead someone into factual error. How arrogant would you have to be, to believe that you couldn't be one of the persons so lead?

It would be good, if you could come to understand the difference between belief, even strong belief, and fanaticism. Not that I expect to see that happen very soon. But, when someone dies, I will feel grief, because, if for no other reason, of the horrible things that might have just happened to that person, for all I know. It is not like having someone move to a distant city. People have returned from such places, and the fear that those doing so, will cease to be, is an unreasonable one, if one should feel it. But noone has returned to us from the other side. That which we can see of the person ceases to function at death, and fear that the person has passed into oblivion becomes more than reasonable. Brain cells no longer fire, movement is not to be seen on any level, and the only thing we have to persuade us that anything but this empty shell remains, is a gut reaction, and some metaphysical speculation.

Elaine : But how do you know that something good didn't happen here, that we might grow from? Isn't it the case, that any great change in our lives is an opportunity to re-examine how we live?

T : So is the first moment you open your eyes in the morning, and every moment that passes after it.

Elaine: If someone's death seems wrong, then I can understand why you grieve. But if it seems senseless, I think that you should stop yourself right there. Wouldn't you agree, that such a blow like this is most certainly a wake-up call?

T : Myself, I like to use a clock for that. Fewer people get hurt that way.

Elaine, is this going somewhere?

Elaine: Just that you don't seem very open to the lessons of this experience.

T : And those would be ... ?

Elaine: Well like I, myself, didn't know the man very well, but seeing the loss to those around him has made me all the more determined to give back what we lost from his death.

T : Which would put the rest of us back to square one, at best, and leave him dead. May God spare us from a string of victories like this. But, on a different note ...

I think that people have been overdoing the praise, to the point of vulgarity. I hope you're not going to follow their example. Making the mourning seem comically absurd, through gross exaggeration of a the praise of the departed, is not to honor his memory - or to do much to preserve it, as you couldn't recognise the man from the hagiography we're already starting to hear. He was a nice guy, I'm sorry that he's gone, but he's not going to be sitting at the right hand of God, I'm pretty sure.

Robert: The first intelligent thing you've said all day.

Elaine: Like I was saying, before I got drowned out by that last sure of testosterone - mightn't we view this as something that gives meaning to the man's death?

T : Why? If he would have been inspirational to you in life, wouldn't his continued presence have given you far more inspiration, than the sad news of the death of yet another young man, among the many who must have died in this world, on that day, that you never had a chance to know. Some of whom, by pure chance, must have been very good people. If you needed inspiration from such a source, how is it that you have not already found it?

If he would not have been so inspiring to you, in the living and articulate flesh, then why should his death spur you on to anything? May I propose that you find inspiration in the good you can do for the living, rather than in the misfortune of the dead?


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