Mein Kampf

It’s fine if  he won’t let me publicize my private life. I can still blog about my mysterious weight loss, and I can write about fictional characters.

I need to write because my creativity is stamped dry at work. How I view literature does not fit in at my office. I don’t agree why books can’t come off as decadent, or dystopian. I don’t agree why the protagonist must be justified in such a way that he was good throughout the course of the story, or even if not — in the end, the protagonist became good/better. Why are we teaching such superficial values to young children and helping them predetermine assessment markers.

That there is nothing between good and bad?

There’s this whole grey area that we ourselves represent, and yet choose to under-represent when we deliver values to children. All because we are in denial and we want to thrive for good, and shun bad. If you want to teach kids how to think, teach them to make independent assessments of what is right and what is wrong. If they can justify it, it means they can think. If they can think, they can’t go too wrong.

Well yes, Hitler was able to justify his ethnic cleansing. But Hitler was also one of those poor messed up kid who was forced to live on a soul diet of all good and no evil. The vitamin deficiency surely must have contributed to his clouded judgment. On a completely non-Nazi related note; Religion, instead of teaching repentance, and asking for god’s forgiveness, should probably also tutor the art of accepting our own mistakes. For, trust me, nothing eats away at one more than denial, ignorance, and trying to sweep problems under the carpet.

I am twenty-three years old this year. My favourite author is Oscar Wilde. Once upon a time ago, I wanted to be a veterinarian. For the past thirteen months, I’ve been battling conscientious ignorance and denial. One particular individual that I particularly care for is particularly stubborn. Admitting a mistake is the hardest thing for him to do, but because I am altruistic and I love him, and because I am selfish and I want to see how far I can bend him — I am administering him repetitive drills. To tell. To talk. To admit.

Pavlov may have been way too archaic, but he was right to some extent.