Language

Several days ago, a friend from high school, one that went with me to Honduras, Sean, inquired about one of the quotes I have listed as a favorite in my facebook profile. First, the quote, then his question:

"it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. sometimes i feel like . . . it's too much. my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst, and then i remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it and it flows through me like rain and i can feel nothing but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid, little life. you have no idea what i'm talking about, i'm sure, but don't worry. you will someday." -lester, american beauty

You say that is one of your favorite quotes. I am assuming you like it so much because it is describing a part of what you believe to be true. But reading that i am curious. to whom or what does that gratitude go to? Back to nature itself? Back to yourself? To nobody? Back to the National Parks Service? Back to others? Back to God? To whom do you give that gratitude to and why?

And here was my response:

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one of the (many) things I hate about the english language is that verbs are suppposed to have subjects and objects, and when they are absent, they are assumed. does gratitude need to have a specific recipient? gratitude emerges from me on account of my very existence. my very existence is dependent on everything else around me that built me and formed me and continues to form me - my parents, my grandparents, the biological world ("nature"), the abiotic world, for that matter, my friends and family, and strangers, the cosmos, everything. it is all beautiful because it exists. and i exist out of all of that. and so i am grateful. to everything. i am meaning the same thing as when you would say that you feel gratitude towards God. as it always seems to, it comes down to semantics.

I guess I've just been thinking a lot about semantics lately. More than usual, I guess. It started with a discussion over the best term to use when labeling the end of the world as we know it that will come about during our lifetimes. The discussion began with Eula at citymouse/countrymouse protesting the use of "crash" and "collapse" because those words bring up negative images instead of the freedom and opportunity that the breakdown of civilization actually will be. So Ran took on the challenge and is now referring to the collapse of civilization as an "involuntary powerdown," which Eula liked. As Ran also noted, what I hope to do is voluntarily powerdown. For those that don't wish to do so, the powerdown is going to be a very rocky ride. It will be rocky for everyone regardless of whether you are willingly walking away or not, but the degree of rockiness will certainly be moderated by the level of "community sufficiency" you have attained, to use an alternative (and more accurate) term for self sufficiency as suggested by In the Wake.

Language certainly is a powerful force. It shapes the way that we perceive reality. Acutally, when dealing with a species which uses culture so extensively to adapt the environment in which it lives, language shapes reality itself. I know that for myself, I exist for most of the time in a world completely constructed with language - writing, talking, thinking... mostly thinking. It is the most basic layer of abstraction that keeps me from directly experiencing "reality" or "the world." Using language to communicate leaves a whole lot of room for ambiguity. I've talked about my well-placed lack of appreciation for labels before. The labels I associate "me" with have changed a lot since then, but the same sentiment remains: it would be better if I did not put myself in mental boxes, with labels that mask all of the complexity behind them and allow people the opportunity to pass me off without thinking because they misconceive or confuse what one label or another is actually supposed to mean. People will prejudge enough on their own (for all labels are inherently tools for prejudging); I don't need to help them.

Labels I use on occasion but would like to be rid of:

Hippie - Ways in which I fit the label of hippie: I have long hair, I don't shave (and would prefer women to do likewise), I bathe twice a week on average and don't use any kind of soap when I do so, I want to join an eco-village, making love and not war sounds kind of fun, I am in love with the biological world, my email address is "listentotrees", I am a vegetarian (for now), I like to walk barefoot, I also like to be naked (if that counts), I like noncompetitive games like hacky sack, and I like drumcircles and dancing.
Ways in which I do not fit the label of hippie: I do not dress like a hippie (most of the time) unless you count the ways in which I undress like a hippie (see barefoot, et al. above), I do not smoke pot, I am not a pacifist (while making love and not war does sound kind of fun, I'd still be okay with a little class war action (but I guess I should remove myself from the middle class before that happens...)).
But my point is, why does that first list have to be only associated with hippies? And how would people appreciate the qualifications of the second list when they can feel they know me after hearing the label of "hippie"?

Anarchist - Okay, so the previous label I have not embraced for a while (probably close to a year), but this one I most certainly have been embracing. But it is so misunderstood. The popular perception of anarchy is equivalent or interchangable with chaos (which I am not saying is bad, either), anomie, disorder, and general violent mayhem. But what I mean by the word, to borrow Mother Anarchy's definition, is "without coercive authority or hierarchical organization; a society organized via voluntary, cooperative participation of its individuals." Such a social organization is inherently uncivilized, and so to protect the myth that civilization is the highest fruition of human culture, all of those negative images of terrorism and cut-throatness are propagated. It would be hard to part with this label right now though. I kind of enjoy being summed up by it. It gives me a sense of dangerousness and unpredictability that I've never felt I had before, and in a way, it can almost inspire action, just to try to fulfill what the label implies.

every other -ist (animist, pantheist, nudist, bicyclist, primitivist, (wannabe) permaculturalist) Any word that ends in -ist is describing the believer of an ideology, of an abstraction. I want the language I use to be active, not abstractive. Instead of saying that I am a nudist, why not just go nude? Instead of learning more about primitivist theory, I want to start rewilding, learning skills, eating plants I pick from the ground, squatting to take a shit (over the toilet of course). Instead of philosophizing about the divinity of the universe, I want to simply be present to its glory as much as possible. I don't need these labels to do any of that. People will understand when they see me do it.

Tom Campbell - Ah, the biggest label of all. Who is "Tom Campbell"? What is "Tom Campbell"? Why is "Tom Campbell" called "Tom Campbell" and not some other random combination of vowels and consonants? Really, I don't think I'm too attached to this name. I don't have a problem when people call me Tommy or Thomas or even the occasional Tomothy. And even if someone looked at me and called directly to me with some other random name, like Dave or Shannon, I'd probably still respond. Campbell shows my ties with one half of my family, but I don't know that a name is necessary to do that. It would show a more real connection when people see that I look like a reconfiguration of physical traits from my family or when they see the same mannerisms that my parents have express themselves through me or just when they see us hugging each other and eating together and living together.

Labels are efficient. They are vital for communication in a fast paced, efficient, product-driven world such as our own. But you miss so much when you feel the need to go so fast. Not using labels requires you to slow down and explain out what you want to communicate fully, but in doing so you have the benefit of understanding and appreciating the complexity and uniqueness of experience so much more. What's the hurry?

But beyond the use of efficient labels, all of language itself is deceptive and flawed. Of course, on one hand, that is why beautiful poetry and storytelling is able to exist, because of its ambiguity, but on the other hand, assumptions made through language can be very dangerous. Consider the verb "to be." Whenever you say that one thing "is" another thing, that is making a huge assumption, but providing no proof that such a relationship between the two things on either side of the "is" actually exists. A style of writing exists in which one does not use the word "to be." That style of writing goes by the name of E-prime. (I tried writing the last two sentences (and this one!) deliberately without using "to be," so if they sound funky and convoluted, that provides the reason.) Overall, though, language should be used to connect in whatever way necessary or desired with other people. It would be impossible to function in this abstracted world without language, but it seems that it would be a worthy exercise to focus on the goal of language (what it means) and on communicating that effectively instead of efficiently. Quality over quantity. Somehow, even with using those efficient labels, I manage to ramble on needlessly. I've been realizing that I enjoy reading Ran so much because he writes so concisely. I would like to develop that skill. And I can start right now by finally ending this post.

Tags:

• anarchy
• animism
• pantheism
• collapse
• nudism
• primitivism
• civilization
• religion
• simplicity