Feets and Feats

tmp_2290_4-21-2014_110059_-1My  wife seems to be having the beginning symptoms of dementia.   Thank God she’s not anywhere near a drooling, muttering creature that some might portray.  But she is also not the vivacious, dynamic administrator of a large social service organization; not the woman she used to be.
And I…   …   …I am not the man I used to be, without her.  Without her!!  The thought trickles down my mind like a sliver of ice on an blazingly hot desert afternoon.  My shoulder muscles wink together in migraine pain.  Emotional brain-freeze.  I laugh too much; to keep from…   …   …I won’t it say out loud, for fear of what you must already know I’m trying not to express.
We met in Brooklyn, NY, in 1957:  teen-age lovers who went through high school and college together; though continents apart she at East Los Angeles College, (which actually is located on Brooklyn Avenue) and I at Brooklyn College-City University of New York.  I don’t know how to live without her.  And she’s fading away.  Not that anybody notices.  But I notice.  And my daughters notice.
Now we live in a “retirement community” which is not meant to be a prison, but is a prison nonetheless.  A prison of broken people, too tired to die, but without the energy to fully live.
The situation is too complex to describe fully today.  But, little by little, I’ll describe it to you.  I’ll describe it to you from my wheelchair, from our little room, which I am now going to leave for a moment, and contemplate my new world; to see what new opportunities await me. If any!!   If you remember my story, I’ve been dead before (not metaphorically;  but ACTUALLY!!) so anything I now accomplish is a death-defying feat.  So “Feets; don’t fail me now”!!!

Sartre; and Peanuts

From “Philosophy Now” magazine:

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Nathan Radke claims that Charlie Brown is an existentialist

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Our anti-hero sits, despondent. He is alone, both physically and emotionally. He is alienated from his peers. He is fearfully awaiting a punishment for his actions. In desperation, he looks to God for comfort and hope. Instead, his angst overwhelms him, and manifests itself as physical pain. There is no comfort to be found.

Poor Charlie Brown. He waits outside of the principal’s office, waiting to hear what will become to him. He offers up a little prayer, but all he gets is a stomach ache.

When we are exposed to something every day we can eventually lose sight of its brilliance. Newspaper readers have been exposed to Charles Schulz’s comic strip ‘Peanuts’ for over half a century. Even now, a few years after Schulz died, many newspapers continue to carry reruns of his strips, and bookstores offer Peanuts collections. His characters are featured in countless advertisements, and every December networks dutifully show the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. Is there any philosophical insight that can be gleamed from such a mainstream and common source?

There has been much discussion concerning Peanuts as a voice of conservative Christianity, including several books such as the 1965 work The Gospel According to Peanuts. This is not without reason; even a cursory glance at a Peanuts anthology will reveal enough scripture references to fuel a month’s worth of Sunday school classes. However, to suggest that Schulz’s philosophical insights didn’t make it past the church door would be a mistake. While Schulz had a great interest in the Bible and the teachings of Jesus Christ, he was also highly suspicious of dogmatic pious beliefs. In a 1981 interview, he refused to describe himself as religious, arguing that “I don’t know what religious means”. Charlie Brown was no comic strip missionary, blandly spreading the word of organized religion. Upon reflection, the trials and tribulations of the little round-headed kid provide deep and moving illustrations of existentialism.

This mixture of Biblical teaching and existential thought is not uncommon. The Danish Christian philosopher Søren Kierkegaard was one of the first existentialists, and his religious beliefs impelled his philosophy, rather than limiting it. Kierkegaard was forced to confront his deeply held belief in the existence of God with the tremendous empty silence that returns from the prayers of humans, and the results were his vital and compelling theories of faith and freedom.

It should also be noted that while Schulz did not consider himself religious, neither did he refer to himself as an existentialist. In fact, he was unfamiliar with the term until the mid 1950s, when he stumbled across a few newspaper articles about Jean-Paul Sartre. He was certainly not formally schooled in philosophical works. And yet, his simple line drawings provide illumination into the questions and problems raised by existentialism.

In order to identify examples of Schulz’s philosophy, a bumper-sticker version of existentialism should prove helpful. In his seminal 1946 work L’Existentialisme est un Humanisme, Sartre outlines some of the core aspects of his theories. A key aspect is the idea of abandonment. Kierkegaard felt that there was an unbridgeable gap between God and Man. Sartre goes even further, and argues that even if there is an unknowable and unreachable God, it wouldn’t make any difference to the human condition. Ultimately, we exist in an abandoned and free state. We are responsible for our actions, and since Sartre argues that there is no God to conceive of a human nature, we are responsible for our own creation.

How does this apply to Peanuts? Like the existential human in a world of silent or absent deities, Schulz’s characters exist in a world of silent or absent adult authority. In fact, the way the strip is drawn (with the child characters taking up most of each frame) actually prevents the presence of any adults. Schulz argued that, were adults added to the strip, the narratives would become untenable. While references are sometimes made to full-grown humans (normally school teachers) these characters are always out of frame, and silent. The children of Peanuts are left to their own devices, to try and understand the world they have found themselves thrust into. They have to turn to each other for support – hence, Lucy’s blossoming psychiatric booth (at five cents a session, a very good deal).

An ideal example of abandonment is the relationship between Linus and The Great Pumpkin. Every Halloween, Linus faithfully waits by a pumpkin patch, in the hopes that he will be blessed with the holy experience of a visitation by The Great Pumpkin. Of course, The Great Pumpkin never shows up, and He never answers Linus’ letters. Despite this, Linus remains steadfast, even going door to door to spread the word of his absent deity. Does The Great Pumpkin exist? We can never know. But from an existential point of view, it doesn’t matter if he exists or not. The important thing is that Linus is abandoned and alone in his pumpkin patch.

Sartre did not deny the existence of God triumphantly. Instead, he considered it “… extremely embarrassing that God does not exist, for there disappears all possibility of finding values in an intelligible heaven.”. Without God, everything we do as humans is absurd, and without meaning. Certainly, spending all night in a pumpkin patch would qualify as embarrassing as well. In the absence of any parental edicts, the characters in Peanuts have had to become very philosophically minded in order to establish for themselves what is right and wrong. When Linus gets a sliver in his finger, a conflict erupts between Lucy’s theological determinism (he is being punished for something he did wrong) and Charlie Brown’s philosophical uncertainty (when the sliver falls out, Lucy’s position crumbles). At Christmas time, Linus dictates a letter to Santa, questioning the validity of Santa’s ethical judgments regarding the goodness or badness of the individual child. “What is good? What is bad?” asks Linus. Good questions.

Another key aspect comes from this monstrous freedom that abandonment allows, and this aspect is despair. In a nutshell, we are created by our actions. We are responsible for our actions. Therefore, we are responsible for our creation. What we are is the sum total of what we have done, nothing more and nothing less. But why should this cause despair? To answer this, Sartre examines the characteristics of cowardice and bravery. When Sartre describes the position that opposes his own, we can see how it may be comforting to not be responsible for one’s creation:

If you are born cowards, you can be quite content, you can do nothing about it and you will be cowards all your life whatever you do; and if you are born heroes you can again be quite content; you will be heroes all your life, eating and drinking heroically. Whereas the existentialist says that the coward makes himself cowardly, the hero makes himself heroic; and that there is always the possibility for the coward to give up cowardice and for the hero to stop being a hero.
(Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism and Humanism 1957)

It is this very possibility that causes despair. Why does Charlie Brown tear himself into knots over the little red-haired girl? The very possibility that he could go over and talk to her is far more distressing than its impossibility would be; he must take ownership of his failure. When she is the victim of a bully in the school yard, Charlie Brown’s despair threatens to leap right off the comic page. He isn’t suffering because he can’t help her, but because he could help her, but won’t: “Why can’t I rush over there and save her? Because I’d get slaughtered, that’s why…” When Linus helps her out instead, thereby illustrating his freedom of action, Charlie Brown only becomes more melancholic.

In order to combat despair, Charlie Brown succumbs to bad faith, which is to say, he denies his freedom: “I wonder what would happen if I went over and tried to talk to her! Everybody would probably laugh … she’d probably be insulted too …” It is only by falsely denying his freedom that Charlie Brown can overcome his despair. But by hiding behind bad faith, he does himself no favours. Another lunch hour is spent alone on a bench with a peanut butter sandwich.

Existence is problematic and disturbing. In one weekend strip, Schulz succinctly describes the horror of discovering one’s own existence in the world:

Linus: I’m aware of my tongue … It’s an awful feeling! Every now and then I become aware that I have a tongue inside my mouth, and then it starts to feel lumped up … I can’t help it … I can’t put it out of my mind. … I keep thinking about where my tongue would be if I weren’t thinking about it, and then I can feel it sort of pressing against my teeth …

Sartre devoted an entire book to this experience – his 1938 novel Nausea in which his character Roquentin is alarmed to discover his own actuality. But Linus sums the point up very well in a few frames.

Existentialism has been accused of being defeatist and depressing (and Sartre didn’t help his cause with terms like ‘abandonment’, ‘despair’, and ‘nausea’). But Peanuts also demonstrates the optimism of the philosophy. Why does Charlie Brown continue to go out to the pitcher’s mound, despite his 50 year losing streak? Why try to kick the football, when Lucy has always pulled it away at the last second? Because there is an infinite gap between the past and the present. Regardless of what has come before, there is always the possibility of change. Monstrous freedom is a double edged sword. We exist, and are responsible. This is both liberating and terrifying.

Schulz should be considered part of the generation of authors who saw active duty during World War II; he is in the company of writers such as Joseph Heller, Kurt Vonnegut, and of course Sartre himself. It is foolish to disregard literature simply because it appears in the funnies section of the daily paper. Schulz’s simple line drawings and blocky letters contain as much information about the human condition as entire shelves full of dry books.

While it is difficult to say what Sartre would have thought of Peanuts, we do know what Schulz thought of Sartre: “I read about him in the New York Times, where he said it was very difficult to be a human being, and the only way to fight against it is to lead an active life – that’s very true.” If any character has shown us the difficulties in existence, it is Charlie Brown

© NATHAN RADKE 2004

Nathan Radke teaches workshops and tutorials in philosophy at Trent University in Peterborough, Canada.

All quotations in this article come from the following books:
Charles M. Schulz: Conversations edited by M. Thomas Inge, University Press of Mississippi 2000.
Existentialism and Humanism by Jean-Paul Sartre, Methuen & Co. Ltd. 1957.
Peanuts Treasury by Charles Schulz, MetroBooks 2000.

We’re Moving

We’re moving down the road about a mile.

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New digs.  Cool restaurants.  Beautiful women…all women are beautiful, but some are more beautifuller than others….  Better produce in the markets.  A good bookstore in walking distance. One bus to the university.  A several hundred dollars less rent.

Quite a score I’d say!

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So I won’t be updating for a week to 10 days.  I can’t stop writing completely!    But don’t give up on me…as The Governator said, “I’ll be bhaaak”!

The Flight Of The Fluttering Vultures, Part Deux

A Murder Of Vulturesyeah, i know its pretentious.  but,  its my blog. so go beak yourself.

a better metaphor would have been “hopping” vultures.  even better would have been an invocation of  “a shopping mall filled with zombie bargain hunters at Christmas”.  stop already!

  Yahoo Answers says “A Murder Of Vultures”.  good enough for me.  it was late and i was orgasmic with creative joy.  i had already shot my load and it was time to sleep.

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well the rest is not so dramatic.  i’m a whore in my writing.   i just want to get to the end already.  don’t you?   [in a classic example of ‘double-binding’-ness, this is not true of me.  but it sounds ‘great’!]  there was  one moment there when the seminar leader said, “you know you were supposed have an outline for me today”; but i was so overjoyed by my salvation, i just shook it off.  i had all the “thinking” part already done.  my aphasic typing and composing would take hours, but i was given a “Get Out Of Jail” card.  i felt free.

i produced a great report.  all filled with hyper-links and references to culture, business, literature, and discussion questions.  ten pages.  i know quantity is not a measure of quality, but i know it was good.  they may not like it.  the group is filled with ‘movie people’.  scriptwriters, cameramen, cinematographers.  not famous ones.  just “Hollywood” people who love their work.  we’ll see how i did.  but i had dodge the bullet.

in retrospect, i had just experienced my own  strong psycho-dynamic process.  i usually”taxi dog” my life away, doing nothing but blogging, eating, sleeping, occasionally fucking, talking to Fish, and so forth.  the ‘shame’, the ‘angst’, i felt were overwhelming.  i don’t carry a lot of psychological baggage.  but this experience has taught me something about self-care as against self-expression.

my wife and i do this little ‘dance’.  she wants to control everything.  i think she’s afraid of life.  i love new experience.  i’m surprised i haven’t tried every new high that comes along.  i am always at odds with my super-ego.   she likes to make love in the darkness.  i want to do it on the train station.

[I just wasted 45 minutes rhapsodizing with Google about sex on the train station.  She will tell you the strangest stories.]

http://www.jref.com/forum/all-things-japanese-26/chijo-how-make-love-train-21260/

i just notice this:  my wife is my super-ego.   that’s not news to me.  i just never saw it that way before.  she writes the checks.  i create the mayhem.

so.  i have work to do.  i have to grow up.

Keep tuned for updates.

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look down.  there is a little box down the page where it shows the time of the revisions.  i should be checking on that.  my posting  today started 11:30.  now its 1:50.  how long does it take you to post a an average day?  i’m now doing the catergories and tags.

I’m Still Recovering From Friday

Procrastination

late last Thursday night, i awoke with a start.  it had dawned on me that my film school movie report was due in the morning.  not the next week.  tomorrow!

i have a strong super-ego.  too strong.  i may write like a mad man [no.  not a madam!], but i live like a regular person.  my shame-filter has a hair trigger.  My goose was cooked.  Wake Up, Little Taxi, Wake Up  Little Taxi.  Its Time To Go….where?!

i joke, of course, you know me by now.  but i was crying.  inside.  doing my little wheelchair dance   inside.   that’s what shame does.  my insides were in turmoil.  i had to defecate twice in a hour.  my stomach was leaden.

it was very late at night.  my blogging has been all consuming.  responding to comments, learning rss feeds, social network log-ins, widgets, twitter, del.icio.us, …   …   …and i’m all aflutter with my hypo-hyper-mania at the best of times.  and…   …   …its Friday!

Friday.

Does a grown man cry? 

there was nowhere to go!  what could i do?  i’m 67 years old.  say “the dog ate my homework”?

i want to tell you that i acted like a man.  i want to tell you that i courageous and took my medicine.  that i improvised well and got applause.   but that that did not happen.

by 3:30 AM, i had exhausted myself worrying.  i take the public service bus  to the university at 8:00.  still pacing, awaiting the bus, i took a detour to a nearby shop  for coffee.  coffee???   “get on the f@@king bus” i commanded, out loud. 

on the bus, stone-faced.   i live in an urban area, but there are little patches of wilderness along the way.  i tried to meditate.

whatever there was to rescue from this situation, i was going to rescue it.  but i was crying, sweating, holding my innards. 

the bus reached its destination.  i was still thinking, “you don’t need to do this”.  it was the last session of the class.  and i would never be able to walk the campus again.  “Hey, aren’t you the guy who missed the last class.  Whatever happened to you?”

a last look at the seminar’s office, and…   …   …

…   …   …

oh, i can’t tell you how many tumultuous emotions were in play!  An astonishment of fluttering vultures.  an BDSM nightmare, with whips, chains, masks, and gags.  Butt [sic] all the gags were on me!!!

one last timid opening of the door.

i was 1/2 hour late.  from all the worry, the sleeplessness, the ‘virgina-reeling’, wheelchair dizzying nightmare i had produced for myself.

And someone else was leading the class!!

My Report Was Next Week. 

Ahh!!!  Ahh!! 

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Continued….

Time To Start Working

I have an admission to make.  I’ve been playing.  Not lying.  Just playing.  I’m avoiding taking the steps to make my life work.  I’ve being doing the ‘Taxi Dog’ dance that has characterized my life for the  last six to eight months.

At the beginning, I was really, really depressed.  That would have been several years ago.  I had just come off a 6 week hospitalization after knee surgery.  I was in a nursing home.  It was Bedlam.  You know the Bedlem story?  Bethlem Royal Hospital, London, was the first world’s first and oldest institution to specialize in mental illnesses.  The name itself has come to mean chaos or madness,

The nursing home was like that.  Senile old men and women, in soiled clothes, and overworked and under staffed LVN’s  struggled, literally struggled, to keep order.  Forget about taking care.  The  word was order.

I was flat on my back for the whole six weeks.  Being paralyzed, I couldn’t turn in my bed.  I have bed sores to prove it.  The wound on my heel has taken 5 years to heal. I’m in a wheelchair now, but then I was more mobile.  Six weeks.  With no daylight; screaming, terminal, Alzheimer patients, all cramped up…I’m sorry.  The image is too much to inflict on you.

Was I depressed?  Does a bear shit in the woods?  Fish cared for me.  And my wife, of course.  She got the worst of it.   Well, I got the worst of it.  But she got the worst of me.  I was my own Bedlam.  I was S-C-R-E-A-M-I-N-G!   Fish got a psychiatrist friend to see me…the care in that place was so minimal.  Somehow, my wife was able to stem my verbal attacks…and after I screamed, I calmed down.  After a few days, I was in physical therapy, and at home on an I-V.

But I remember.

Now, my life is easy.  Now;  I just enjoy the ‘taxi dog’ life?  But there’s work to be done.  I’ve been looking for a new apartment.  Rental are astronomical where I live and, although I’m doing all right, $2500 is a lot of money.  Moving is a chore and the apartment has to be wheelchair friendly.

And then there are the small, but significant things.  I’ve got to do my grad. school report.  My checking account is in tatters.   Other things that are eluding me now.

Acknowledging these things is all I can do now.  No self blame.  I know better that to do it.  Just focus.

Look Into My Eyes: 

Shazzam!

Wouldn’t that be rich?!