A VIEW OF THE WORLD

 

A VIEW OF THE WORLD

Actually, it’s about how you view the world.

It is a typical human habit to want to attach labels.  On a container it signifies immediately what you’re purchasing.  On our busy roads we rely on traffic signs.  Signs and labels for just about anything.  Drugs, poisons, paints, all come with explanations and signage indicating how lethal some of these products are and where to go for help.  Even on the news—sorry, it’s no longer called the news, but the show—the hosts feel obliged to explain the weather and the need for cautions, in case of rain for instance, “Be sure to bring your umbrella and wellies.”  Labelling.  Cautions.  We’re constantly getting in each other’s face.  Even unasked for advice, (we can’t seem to help ourselves) no matter how well intended; it is so pervasive.  Movies come with ratings and unpleasant news events come with a warning.  “What you’re about to view may offend some viewers.”

Labelling people.

This article is about labelling people into categories.  We do it all the time.  Obesity ratings.  Fitness ratings.  Toddler, infant, child, teenager, adolescent, adult, senior.  Old, young, bald, ugly, beautiful, wrinkled.  For some reason color has been segregated and black is no longer phonetically correct with a lower case.  White, brown, red or olive are still lower case and for some strange reason Black Lives Matter must have been responsible for that slight linguistic change.  I would have been much happier with a heartfelt legal equality, not only in law but one that comes from the heart as well, rather than settling for a capital B.  Anyway, that is just a slight deviation from the crux of the matter at hand.  How do you view the world and what kind of label would you attach to yourself?  You see, at the end of this article you get to decide.

Optimist, futurist, alarmist, pessimist, realist?

What kind of person are you?  How do you interpret your place in the universe?  Do you concern yourself with the present or the future?  Since my fingers are touching the keyboard and the subject matter is entirely mine, I get to decide a certain order and you will have to contend yourself with some of my personal biases slipping in.  Not to worry, even my objective mind suffers from bias and so does yours.  Bias is a subject for a much later date and it’s not a biggie.  Bias is a like a shadow comparable to the clothes worn by the emperor, yet semi-transparent and always close to the surface.  Not unlike the emperor, we see what we want to see!  We are products of the times we live in and how we experience the world is limited by personal knowledge and experience.  What you know and are exposed to go hand in hand.  Nobody is an expert on everything.  It also explains stupidity and stupid people. 

Are you a futurist?

Let’s start with the futurists.  I am an avid reader, but when it comes to science fiction and vampires, I kind of bypass that section in the library.  The world of the fantastic and totally imagined makes for light entertainment and amuses for a while, but it lacks substance.  For little me; fantasy in small doses please.  But the true futurist fanatics believe in all that anticipated technical wizardry.  The Jetsons coming alive.  We’re buzzing around in flying cars and live in floating worlds and robots deliver us meals that come in the form of a pill.  Yummy!  May the force be with you, Star Wars’ aficionados, and they’re convinced that one of these days we will be leaving boring planet Earth in search of exciting stellar systems filled with wondrous lifeforms and mindboggling technologies that will tickle our innovative imaginations.  The details are a bit fuzzy, but if you can envision it, it will happen.  Leave it to Musk and other space cadets to turn that dream into a reality.  For the futurists their motto is simple, “The future is ours and looking bright.  Warp speed 5, Mr. Zulu . . .  and beam me up, Scotty.”

An optimist?

A bit naïve they are, optimists, and what futurists share with optimists is hope, that silver lining kind of thing, sunny side up just like an egg.  Optimists are by and large nice people.  You can’t get mad at them.  There is an optimistic side to my realism because I refuse to go through life as a pessimist.  As a realist I am utterly convinced that my personal impact and opinion are by and large tolerated, but basically ignored.  When you’re not calling the shots, who listens?  Those calling the shots are however responsible for the tens of thousands of mostly innocent civilians who do get shot and killed each year.  The deciders is such a small category that it disqualifies most of us.  So, let’s skip the deciders.  (This is not an endorsement for home delivery services)

An alarmists?

I will skip this category as well.  They remind me too much of the fairytale of the boy crying wolf.  They tend to be miserable as well.  Perhaps the two go together, like peas in a pod.  Believe it or not, but you recognize alarmists from a distance, it is etched in their faces and reflected in their eyes.  A quick dash towards the next door behind which are encamped the pessimists.  (I can’t be seen to favor one home delivery service over another)

A pessimist?

Pessimists fall into the alarmist category, constantly worrying about everything and that includes worrying about the buffoon currently occupying the White House and the sinister little creep in the Kremlin.  We can only hope that a timely death will welcome all the little tyrants (and soon) who are currently hastening the demise of the planet and everything on it.  I’ve already let the cat out of the bag with the realist reference (my choice). 

I am a realist with a sense of humor.

A realist acknowledges that eventually we will be done in by greed, ignorance and stupidity.  There are so many of us that we can’t ignore the inevitable.  If there were very few of us I doubt I would be writing this down.  As a matter of fact I wouldn’t be writing at all, because I would be too busy loving and exploring the natural world, because I do love life and the fact that I am here and not on some godforsaken planet out in the galaxy boonies, surrounded by weird creatures speaking in guttural sounds I can’t understand.  For Pete’s sake, leave Star Wars out of my life.

Without going into greater detail I will ignore all those fantasies about effortlessly travelling through space, flying from one planetary wonder to the other and leave that part to the futurists and optimists.  If you’re really curious, I wrote a book called—They were like Angels—and it will provide you with much greater insight as to why zooming through space is not in the human cards.  It will cost you.  Currently it is only available through me and in paperback.  Twenty bucks and shipping costs and it can be yours.

As a realist I love to shrug my shoulders when it comes to doom and gloom and all things hoped and wished for.  We are what we are and there is very little anyone can do to change anything.  I’ve never trusted politicians who claim they can change things for the better, nor will I blindly follow those who promise everlasting life if things don’t turn out on Earth.  Life is a journey and I revel in the experience.  Enjoying the ride if you will.  And of course it comes with aches and pains, with grief and disappointments, trials and tribulations and I do realize that for many of us the ride is pure hell and torture.  Be happy if you were born on the right side of the tracks and above all, be happy with who and what you are.

Ordinary and boring, don’ knock it!

Some people can be so unrealistic, constantly looking for things that are out of reach; success, the perfect mate and relationships, instant gratification, a career you absolutely love, money in the bank, debt free and you die at age one hundred without ever seeing a doctor and you were bright as a whip right up to final breath of air.  Just ordinary and mundane can be so gratifying.  Boring is okay.  Not getting bombed out of your home or moving from one refugee camp to the other, kept alive by aid agencies suspected of harboring terrorists while handing out food.  Apparently those two things go hand in glove if some of our less illustrious leaders are to be believed.  It also allows them to save some money by cutting off funding.  Killing two birds with one stone; hey, Bill, you’re full of phrases today.

Temper your expectations and appreciate the cards you’ve been dealt in life (I can’t stop or help myself once I’m on roll, with the phrases that is).  Appreciate what you have been given.  My nose is slightly crooked.  I’ve always had bags under my eyes.  My liver spots masquerade as a tan.  I’m slightly balding and I’ve got so many spare parts inside of me that I can be classified as a medical miracle and an impressive pile of scrap metal will be left behind upon the cremation of my dead body.  I am still very much alive, the dead reference was just that, a reference.  On occasion I have looked upon beautiful human specimens with envy, especially if they’re blessed with an impressive amount of luxurious hair, but it is usually followed by a disparaging thought to make me feel better: probably a salesperson or a politician, or in a worst case scenario, a lawyer.

I do feel bad for the billions of people who got stuck in a shithole from the day they were born.  Dumb luck.  Bad luck.  No intent involved and stuck with a shitty hands of cards.  Imagine being born black (Black with a capital B for those who insist on the ‘new’ literary awakening.  If there is such a thing as woke, this would be it for me) in the Sudan, stuck in a refugee camp and faced with daily deprivations and violence.  Life can really suck if you’re born in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Thank goodness that we can turn things off. 

Luckily for us all species are blessed with a shut-off mechanism that prevents us from cracking up when bad things come barreling down like an avalanche.  When we feel the worst while experiencing the worst.  If we didn’t have this we’d go out of our minds.  Not that we’re shutting out unpleasantness or disaster, but without that mental defense mechanism we wouldn’t survive.  In case of a major catastrophe the first order of business is cope and regroup.  It is a basic survival thing.

But what about wars and disasters that don’t take place in our own backyard.  Well, the coping in that case is a bit more altruistic, as in being pleased that it is them and not us.  A sort of remote empathy that doesn’t go very deep.  It is still part of that mental defense mechanism, but also plays into the basic survival strategy that we’re not obliged to feel pain that is not ours.

In my hometown there are currently about seventy people classified as homeless.  I could sell all my assets and hand over the money to these hapless souls and within one or two months of whooping it up, we’d all be broke again and stuck in the same rut.  I don’t have any answers and neither do you.  This is a quote from Lyndon B. Johnson—he wasn’t handsome either and apparently cussed like a sailor before they started to tape everything that came out of a president’s mouth—Life isn’t fair, it never was and never will be.

All we can really do is cope to our best abilities and go with the flow.  When something fun and exciting happens, enjoy!  If nothing out of the ordinary happens and everything is steady as she goes, count your blessings.  Even boring can be appreciated when everything else around you is going to hell in a handbasket.  If I’ve overdone the phrases, no apologies from the author.  I enjoy writing my articles.

So, when it comes to your view of the world, is there a label that fits you or a favorite inclination?  We just survived nearly five months of nasty winter weather.  I mean, this is Canada and even for us, it was bad!  I wonder if this kind of philosophical bender was a direct result of the winter blahs.  Cabin fever.  I even changed the lyrics of our national anthem.  Oh, Canada, land of snow and ice, freezing your ass off is never nice.

I purposely limited the views of the world to a few that are incredibly general and left out all the predictable subjects, topics, inclinations and phobia that lead to endless and annoying discussions and interpretations.  Keep it simple.  I also don’t want you to scratch your head incessantly, induce a headache or steer you towards intense soul searching.

I am a realist with a devious humorous streak.  What are you?

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