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Thursday, February 23, 2006

Humanist... Or existentialist?

I had another interesting meeting yesterday, especially with someone who had offered me free vodka. Unfortunately, I was too psychologically contrived to avail the awesome offer; this would prove to be a punishing folly, later on. As always, a conversation would ensue, and just ten minutes into my perspective; I’d find myself taking on the hefty task of a very critical grilling; sometimes, I just don’t fuckin’ comprehend.

Though the meeting did prove to be a much needed and somewhat radically relieving vent for me, I was a tad bit disappointed with how my host misconstrued my motives and point-of-view so fluidly. I mean, we got into talkin’ about how we feel about different places; thus, effectively opening the flood gates to my unparalleled contempt for theocracies and Islamic fascism. I explained to the lady, who had up until now, very generously pandered to my ego in every capacity possible, that amongst the few things that I can do, making scathing conjectures against anti-humanist fascism was one such factor that I personally relished. I explained to her that it is one those essential and somewhat sole acts; an act without which, I might as well end up lobotomised. I tried to articulate a simple and somewhat humble point that I gotta’ rant and bitch against such things, and that this is about the only remotely productive thing that I am ever able to do.

Now, we were engrossed in this critical, yet mechanically biased analysis of my attitude, and how I shouldn’t be callin’ myself a humanist because of my fuckin’ inability to be a humanitarian--politically correct. Yeah, bloody fuckin’ marvellous, ain’t it? This was the conversation where after a near two-year-period; I was dubbed an existentialist, once again. I tried to argue a sombre point for the sake of pure civility, but that didn’t help either, because it gave away my stance as one that was caving in; I was not pleased with the results. Finally, the fine lady went onto compare me, much like my Christian colleague, to most feeble extremists. Once again, though, I brought up the argument that there is no such thing as a conscious being that isn’t biased or passionate about something in some capacity or the other. Stop fuckin’ evaluating me on whether I hold a certain extremity/passion in my stance for a moment, and actually evaluate the premise to which I pledge allegiance--freedom of verbal and literary expression in the public domain, with full and solid acknowledgement of every individual's personal sanctity.

That was exactly the point that I desired to articulate across to the lady critic, who had now made me her personal philosophical dartboard. I will argue again until the fuckin’ day that I die! I am not gonna’ justify my politically incorrect tone, because I admit, I am coarse; I am foul; I am unyielding, even; I am not classy or sombre on many essential levels. Therefore, sue me all you want for lacking a cosmetic polish! However, I will also admit that I get a kick out of my quirky projection of reality, and I even invest a certain degree of pride in this because despite my excessive political incorrectness, I retain my commitment to that one ideal; I do not desecrate the physical, and or otherwise personal sanctity of another individual with my beliefs. This is why the public domain was distinguished from the private domain; in the public domain, you put up with other people’s personal quirks, and vice versa. If my opinion hurts, you are more than free to refute with an opinion of your own! You are more than fuckin’ free to ridicule me! You are free to turn away and retreat to the stability of your personal space; you are also free to ignore or just filter my incoherent gibberish. So the question does beg an answer: What’s the fuckin’ problem then?

I am committed to freedom of civil, moderately vocal, and literary expression in the public domain. This by no means gives me rights over oppressing the lives, beliefs or freedoms of others; this is by no means, stifling the similar liberties that belong to the other groups. I will make fun of religion, especially when provoked; I will exude bitter clichés against theocratic norms as one of my favourite pastimes; I will bitch about cheap, dehumanised cultures; oh, and I will damn well fight for a world where everyone else can have the same damned freedom. Call it existentialism, if you want, or call it humanism as I‘d like to humbly acknowledge; you cannot deny that despite the fact that my ideals may not necessarily entail the concept of respect, they irrefutably cherish the sanctity and fundamental personal liberties of every individual and the volitions they hold over their respective, personal sanctums.

“Oh Kade, you mad fucker, you suck! You’re fuckin’ mean! You’re raunchy! And you do not know respect. You’re nothing more than an antagonistic whore, who gets off on inflammatory conjectures.” -- Retort my endless lineage of critics.

“Guilty, as fuckin’ charged! And I am glad that you’re all free to say so! Though you do know that you’re wrong when you use the aforementioned critique to actually compare my hedonistic ass to these dehumanised fascists who use fear and loathing to shackle down the masses! If anything! I am the powerful opposite! I am a part of the fuckin’ antithesis!” -- Closure on the matter.

Humanist or existentialist? Sorry, but it’s not as if the two concepts aren’t compatible. Sure, probably not politically correct; but both of them can be one and the same; call it neo/hawk-humanism.

Stay cool, fuckers.

Cheers,
Kade -- “The humanist! No, the existentialist! Okay wait! The Hedonist! Now you can all rest happy knowing that I got a disparaging tag!”

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