I'm at Work. It does things to me here. Makes me think about things and gives me time to formulate ideas around them. Like the idea of country. That, patriotism, has been in many times and places a passionate belief to which the best minds could give full assent. It was so in England in the time of Shakespeare, in Germany in the time of Fichte, in Italy in the time of Mazzini. It is so still in Poland, China, and Outer Mongolia. In the Western nations it is still immensely powerful: it controls politics, public expenditure, military preparations, and so on.
But
The intelligent youth are unable to accept it as an adequate ideal; they perceive that it is all very well for oppressed nations, but that as soon as an oppressed nation achieves its freedom, the nationalism which was formerly heroic becomes oppressive. The Irish, upon whom the British had inflicted civilization for eight hundred years, have used their freedom to pass laws preventing the publication of many good books. The spectacle of the Irish murdering literature makes nationalism seem a somewhat inadequate ideal even for a small nation. But when it comes to a powerful nation, the argument is even stronger. The Treaty of Versailles was not very encouraging to those who had the luck not to be killed in defending the ideals, which their rulers betrayed. Those who during the war averred that they were combating militarism became at its conclusion the leading militarists in their respective countries. Such facts have made it obvious that patriotism is the chief curse of our age and will bring civilization to an end if it cannot be mitigated.
I've also been thinking about the concept of beauty.There is something that sounds old-fashioned about beauty, though it is hard to say why. A modern painter would be indignant if he were accused of seeking beauty. Most artists nowadays appear to be inspired by some kind of rage against the world so that they wish rather to give significant pain than to afford serene satisfaction. But the modern man, when misfortune assails him, is conscious of himself as a unit in a statistical total; the past and the future stretch before him in a dreary procession of trivial defeats. Man himself appears as a somewhat ridiculous strutting animal, shouting and fussing during a brief interlude between infinite silences with opposable thumbs the only true trait setting him aside from animals. That and his boom stick. Unacommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal, says King Lear, and the idea drives him to madness because it is unfamiliar. But to the modern man the idea is familiar and drives him only to triviality. Pretty much like everything else. Being unique is all but average now; everyone wanting to be different in some way. Trends come and go, die and revive and such. The idea of beauty is all but skewed. There is no one view these days. Everyone had his or her own style, type what have you. Set-types are gone in favor of more unique means.
The trouble I've seen here is partly intellectual, partly social. When even a clone, or a twin is a completley different person, looks have very little to do with being unique if anything.
But
The intelligent youth are unable to accept it as an adequate ideal; they perceive that it is all very well for oppressed nations, but that as soon as an oppressed nation achieves its freedom, the nationalism which was formerly heroic becomes oppressive. The Irish, upon whom the British had inflicted civilization for eight hundred years, have used their freedom to pass laws preventing the publication of many good books. The spectacle of the Irish murdering literature makes nationalism seem a somewhat inadequate ideal even for a small nation. But when it comes to a powerful nation, the argument is even stronger. The Treaty of Versailles was not very encouraging to those who had the luck not to be killed in defending the ideals, which their rulers betrayed. Those who during the war averred that they were combating militarism became at its conclusion the leading militarists in their respective countries. Such facts have made it obvious that patriotism is the chief curse of our age and will bring civilization to an end if it cannot be mitigated.
I've also been thinking about the concept of beauty.There is something that sounds old-fashioned about beauty, though it is hard to say why. A modern painter would be indignant if he were accused of seeking beauty. Most artists nowadays appear to be inspired by some kind of rage against the world so that they wish rather to give significant pain than to afford serene satisfaction. But the modern man, when misfortune assails him, is conscious of himself as a unit in a statistical total; the past and the future stretch before him in a dreary procession of trivial defeats. Man himself appears as a somewhat ridiculous strutting animal, shouting and fussing during a brief interlude between infinite silences with opposable thumbs the only true trait setting him aside from animals. That and his boom stick. Unacommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal, says King Lear, and the idea drives him to madness because it is unfamiliar. But to the modern man the idea is familiar and drives him only to triviality. Pretty much like everything else. Being unique is all but average now; everyone wanting to be different in some way. Trends come and go, die and revive and such. The idea of beauty is all but skewed. There is no one view these days. Everyone had his or her own style, type what have you. Set-types are gone in favor of more unique means.
The trouble I've seen here is partly intellectual, partly social. When even a clone, or a twin is a completley different person, looks have very little to do with being unique if anything.