“Happiness”

At this point in history, when faced with the question, “what do you want to achieve in life” (or any similar variations of the question), I would dare say that many of us would answer simply- “to be happy”.

“Happiness” is the most intuitive goal that anyone can have- even the phrase “I want to be happy” seems circular and tautological- to be happy is to live the way you want to, isn’t it? One cannot possibly “want to be unhappy”- if being “unhappy” is an individual’s overarching aim, isn’t being unhappy just a means to the same end? 

At this point I am convinced that the phrase “I want to be happy” is meaningless, but a better question lies ahead- why the obsession with happiness?

Here I propose an answer- (a largely unrigorous and callous one, but an answer nonetheless): human “happiness” is but an evolved decendant of animalistic “pleasure”, which is a critical survival tool. I would venture to say that us conscious beings are here today because our biological ancestors have incredibly developed sytems of pleasure which help them to survive. Our obession with “happiness” is but a biological accident. One only needs to think about the pleasure that a monkey (presumably) get when it fills its empty stomach with a ripe banana, giving it the nutrients to live on and procreate; or the displeasure (or unhappiness) that an antelope has when it sees a tiger, which then causes it to flee, and to survive. “Happiness”, in these cases, is not a philosophical end, but a highly effective, purposeful system- a faithful boat which has carried the genes of our ancestors across the vast, deep seas of time.

At this point, it is impossible for us to verify if animals think about happiness just as we do- but what we can be sure of, are two things. Firstly, we can think about happiness; and secondly, “happiness” is no longer necessary to survive. This means that happiness is no longer a necessary system we need, but a choice we can choose to make or not.

For the first time in known history, we can try to deviate ourselves from “happiness”. The faithful ship that our ancestors relied on has hit the shore, and we are free to walk in any direction we choose.

Prettiness.

Journal Entry #3

(Another late night blog post, yay)

In Standard 4, I filled up one of my friends’ autograph books (it was black and diary-sized, if I recall. One of those mass produced organizers that companies send around and no one really uses). I really like autograph books- they’re some kind of cryogenic freeze on our personalities that allow us to analyse and smile at our previous selves. And from there, we notice the things about ourselves that changed (“Hobbies- collecting stamps”) to the things that didn’t change (“Birthday- 29 December 1992”).

After I filled up the autograph book, it was soon passed around, and people started talking about it. I then realized that quite a few of my classmates (the boys, mainly) were looking at my page and giggling. Something they had noticed in particular was what I filled up in the “Hobbies” section. While my other male friends usually filled that row up with things like “sleeping, cycling, playing com games, reading (all quoted from my own autograph book- they’re authentic)”, I filled in something else.

My row went something like this:

Hobbies: Talking to girls

which apparently, most people found amusing (Standard 4 Keefe was probably just being the honest, cheeky boy that went around pulling girls’ hair and stealing water bottles which ended up with a coalition of girls complaining to his mother on Report Card Day- but more on that another time). I suppose that’s one thing that really hasn’t changed much; my friends are disproportionately female, except either one or two close male friends (the figure usually hovers around the number ‘one’, and very occasionally enters the realm of ‘two’)

I’ve never really been one for cliques- at least not the kind of cliques that I’ve seen so far. Personal, one-on-one interaction has always been something I’m more comfortable with. I like intimacy and touch- in some ways I think that my connection and bond with someone is directly proportional with the amount of physical contact we make. I love the feel of a handshake and the warmth of a hug- it closes the gap between two people in a irreplaceable manner.

The two premises: 1) I have primarily girl friends, and 2) I touch my friends a lot (typing this out actually makes me realize how odd this sounds, hmm) necessarily leads to conclusion 3) I touch girls a lot, which has also necessarily gotten me into quite a bit of trouble. There are generally two possible groups of people which this trait of mine can offend:

1) People who don’t quite like being touched

When I meet people in this category I’m usually in for a rude shock. Awkwardness (which may or may not be prolonged) usually follows- along with apologies (“Sorry sorry I didn’t know that you didn’t like hugs / don’t shake hands / aren’t allowed to touch boys without your dad’s permission). These are people I can genuinely sympathize with, and I usually apologize quite a bit to them. However, there also are:

2) People who feel uncomfortable with me touching other people

This group includes people who go “it’s really not appropriate to touch at this age- people might get the wrong impression / don’t be such a pervert / why your hands so itchy one”. I, on occasion, have slightly less tolerance with people in this category. Most of them certainly are well-meaning, so there really isn’t much to rant about, actually. I actually do owe quite a bit to people from this group, because I do have the tendency to cross the line, from time to time, so thank you, dear reader-friend, if you happen to be one of the kind-hearted people who’ve advised me at any point in time. So- thanks! 🙂

At the end of the day, I genuinely think that touch has the capacity to make better relationships (any kind, in fact). I should seriously consider starting a political party which advocates more hugging. Hmm.

(A note to readers- the “Journal” series is posted every Saturday- English homework. Hi Miss Diana! :] )

Question.

Joycean Hell.

Currently finishing Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Beginning parts were slightly draggy, but Father Arnall makes things a little better towards the middle with his inventiveness:

As the waters of baptism cleanse the soul with the body so do the fires of punishment torture the spirit with the flesh. Every sense of the flesh is tortured and every faculty of the soul therewith: the eyes with impenetrable utter darkness, the nose with noisome odours, the ears with yells and howls and execrations, the taste with foul matter, leprous corruption, nameless suffocating filth, the touch with redhot goads and spikes, with cruel tongues of flame. And through the several torments of the senses the immortal soul is tortured eternally in its very essence amid the league upon leagues of glowing fires kindled in the abyss by the offended majesty of the Omnipotent God and fanned into everlasting and ever increasing fury by the breath and anger of the Godhead.

This is preceded by another tasty bit of hyperbole-

O, how terrible it is the lot of these wretched beings! The blood seethes and boils in the veins, the brains are boiling in the skull, the heart in the breast glowing and bursting, the bowels like a redhot mass of burning pulp (Me: Hot diarrheoa? Ugh.), the tender eyes flaming like molten balls.

Father Arnall, in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

And while we’re still on the topic of religion, here are the curious results of a recent Gallup poll. Looks like nonbelievers enjoy more worldly pleasures before they enter aforementioned unpleasant afterlife. Hmm.

(Click on the picture to see it in its entirety, my theme absolutely butchers photos)

Positive Thinking!

Come on, the world ain’t that bad. 😉

(from The Essential Man)

Joke #1

Q: One day, a bishop, a priest and a pastor were running a 100-meter race. Why was the bishop disqualified?

A: Because he kept running diagonally. 😉

(Original material, yo)

Wordblock.

nuances contiguous liminary avuncular propitious Faustian arduous surreptitious eschew aversion ubiquitous boisterous exuberant meager fortuitous gratuitous neurotic ditzy deviation vainglorious serendipitous s/he insipid ‘a tantamount reason’ ‘crumbly judgement’ ‘eggbox constraints’ faux veritably convoluted rahula detest trundling puerile visceral glibly nascent au contraire crux bombast magnamity discordant lascivious prerogative furtive scuttle du jour penuche destrier bric-a-brac amoureuse

amoureuse.

Te-te-telephone.

Have you ever done a duet for an hour on the telephone?

I have. 😉

(Chords- F#m- 122111, G# 466544, B 688766)

Up in the club and I’m sippin’ that bub’ and you’re not gonna reach my telephone.”

“I have good news and bad news!”