Capitol Hill Blue Forums Life and Moral Issues Morality & Society I dont owe humanity a damn thing

yes yes Sshlack it is but sneaking in here quick with an off topic...

back to reading....

sorry Iss perhaps i drin kor think to much but i fail to see the difference between humans and humanity, i am entitled to see them as the the same thing right? or is there something im missing?

I have an obligation to me and mine. Others, I do not. Me and mine are humans. Others are members of that amorphous, unnatural collective: Humanity. They are to be despised for preventing me and mine from maximizing our individual potential.

If there was a lot less of this artificial concern for Humanity, there would be a lot more to go around for the people who count and a lot less bloodshed and violence in this world.

If some should feel some odd desire to subjugate others by perpetuating their dependency on outside aid to survive, I suppose they have that right--though I can hardly see how it would profit anyone in the long run beyond making one feel righteous and superior.

As I have stated many times: It is all about the real worth of a thing, an act, an idea. The only true and objective measure of worth is money. If something does not produce an immediate and concrete profit for me, it is a negative and should be avoided like the evil it is. Charity and helping Humanity has no concrete economic return for me and is nothing but another scam dreamed up by the collectivists to steal and coerce from me what is rightfully mine.

irked, you own nothing but what the rest of us allow you to own. In fact, there is no "you" unless the rest of us agree to your existence.

Some would say there is no 'you' even if the rest of us agree to your existence! (Philosophically speaking)

As long as we're on the topic of philosophy:

On one of my t-shirts:
Lord, help me to be the person my dog thinks I am.

---

Q: What do you get when you cross an insomniac and an agnostic with a dyslexic?
A: Someone who stays up all night wondering if there really is a Dog.

---

Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend.
Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read!

---

'In the Beginning', from The Moody Blues:

first man: I think. I think I am, therefore I am... I think.

Establishment: of course you are my bright little star,
I've miles
And miles
Of files
Pretty files
of your forefather's fruit
And now to suit our
Great computer,
You're magnetic ink!

First man: I'm more than that, I know I am! ...at least, I think I *must* be.

Inner man: there you go man, keep as cool as you can.
Face piles
And piles
Of trials
With smiles.
It riles them
to believe
That you perceive
The web they weave
And keep on thinking free.

------------------------------------
We now resume your regularly scheduled topic,
Sorry for the inconvenience.
Mind the gap.

Great memories there, RB. Another Moody Blues favorite, also germane to the topic:

And he thought of those he angered,
For he was not a violent man,
And he thought of those he hurt
For he was not a cruel man
And he thought of those he frightened
For he was not an evil man,
And he understood.
He understood himself.

Upon this he saw that when he was of anger or knew hurt or felt fear,
It was because he was not understanding,
And he learned, compassion.

And with his eye of compassion.
He saw his enemies like unto himself,
And he learned love.
Then, he was answered.

I've obviously spent too much time with literature. "No man is an island," IMHO, extends way beyond the people I know. "Someone lived in a pretty how town": the "hows" did what was expected--took care of family, performed the rites, but all was hollow. The "someones" saw the true connections and the emptiness of the rituals. Sadness was the inability to see the humanity in everyone, particularly those who were different. In "Our Town" Emily, dead in Act III, is allowed to relive one day of her life and is warned not to pick an important day because what she learns will be too painful. She picks her wedding day--I question the unimportance of the chosen day--and only lasts a few hours. What sends her "happily" back to the grave is when she realizes how much people miss by not seeing beyond themseles aand their petty (Wilder would have a bbetter word) lives. And 'll spare you the analysis of Miller's "All My Sons."

But I think maybe the "job" of the artist--whtever form--is to study what binds us all.

Finally, one personal experience and I'll stop. In graduate school I shared an apartment with, IMHO, an unbelievably selfish woman. (Marg, if you ever wander onto this site, that doesn't mean I didn't wind up liking you and remembering our shared adventues with fondness--and amusement.) In the spring Marg's birthday rolled around. I decided to give her a surprise party. Now we were students; translate to we were poor. The only cake I could afford was a Baskin Robbins ice cream one. I bought it and had them write "let there be light." Marg's theatre area was lighting.

We had the party. Afterwards Marg asked why I was so nice--she wouldn't be doind any party for me. My response--someday someone else will. She thought I was cold-hearted and manipulative. I didn't. My thinking is you get back from humanity's "pot" what you put in. Maybe what you get isn't even recognizable, but overall I think we're ALL connected and not to recognize that connection is sad.

"The Road Not Taken" is now on the list,

I've enjoyed the thread.

Excellent, Martha. I do so agree with you.
I would also like to applaud Mellow's, Greger's and Steve's posts. I mirror their feelings. I try to do good, consider that a responsibility and believe I'll get back what I put in.
I can't really add anything else except this.....remember Hillary's comments, "it takes a village to raise a child"? Don't get me wrong, I'm not great fan of hers. I just very much agree with her statement and never could figure out why she was so vilified for it.
It DOES take a village. It matters very much what is going on around us. We are interconnected.

I think of 'life' as a privilege and it behooves us to be good stewards and good players in our shared spaces.

Olyve

So true, Phil! 'Tis precisely this that is the point: The endless struggle of the individual against the collective. If others, the collective, so chooses (and it really does quite often) to deprive the individual of something or even everything, it can. The individual is ultimately defenseless against the collective. One need but be sufficient outré and the collective will happily justify any excess against an individual.