My Favorite Things

The Sound of Music has so many fabulous songs in it that the musical has to be one of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s greatest productions.

The song “My Favorite Things” exudes positivity. A training exercise for the children on how to get over the speed bumps of life. It also works for adults.

I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad.

At its base, “My Favorite Things” represents an Epicurean approach to living day to day.

When the dog bites, or the bee stings, or when I’m feeling sad, all I have to do is remember my favorite things and at least some of the pain goes away.

This is the Epicurean approach: happiness via pleasure is already ours, we just need to reduce or eliminate the pain to realize it.

If you look at the things that Maria says are her favorite things, they aren’t even things she owns — they are things that simply bring her pleasure.

Rain drops. Kitten whiskers. Girls in white dresses. Snowflakes. Cream-colored ponies. Silver-white winters that melt into spring.

Life is full of pleasurable things we don’t even own. They just exist. It’s pain that prevents us from seeing them. Reduce or eliminate pain, and the pleasure is ours.

How do we reduce or eliminate pain? By remembering all the good things we have that aren’t even ours. But we have to force our minds past the pain to remember them. That is the work we must do to achieve the good life. A life of pleasure that brings us happiness.

Nothing happens without work. There are no magic wands. In the midst of pain and sadness, remember the good things, the things that bring you pleasure — and happiness will be yours.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

 

 

CW Hawes is a playwright; award-winning poet; and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes 

 

 

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2024

Today is the second day of the new year. I trust yesterday was a day of feasting and good cheer. It certainly was for me.

This year I’m not making any resolutions. I don’t think I’ve ever completed a single New Year’s resolution. So this year – phooey. I’m not making any.

In fact, I’m not even setting any goals for myself. Not a single one. I’m tired of goals. They remind me of work and I’m retired.

I have projects I’d like to complete:

        • Set up a Kickstarter campaign for the ninth Pierce Mostyn book.
        • Write a new Justinia Wright mystery.

And that’s it. Anything else I do, will be done for the joy of doing it. No more goals for this guy.

You see, last year was fairly momentous. I had a significant shift in my thinking. Namely, that the chief end of man is to pursue pleasure and avoid pain. In doing so, he achieves what we all want: happiness. And I want nothing more than to be happy throughout all the days that remain to me.

So no schedules. No goals. No resolutions. None of that stuff. It’s don’t worry, be happy. Il Dolce far Niente. The sweetness of doing nothing.

More and more I’m finding how sweet doing nothing truly is.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

 

 

CW Hawes is a playwright; award-winning poet; and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes 

 

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Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles on Amazon!

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Inflicting Pain — We Love It

This post is going up on Halloween. So happy Halloween to all who celebrate.

And if you’re catching this post the day after Halloween, then a blessed All Saints Day to you.

One thing that seems to be ingrained in us, part of our DNA, is a desire to inflict pain. And if we aren’t inflicting it, we love to watch someone else or something else dishing out pain to another.

I think that’s why the small screen, the big screen, and video games have become so violent. It is our love of dishing out copious amounts of pain to others. We love doing it and we love watching it.

Our indifference to others who are suffering is part of this human trait to inflict pain and suffering. It’s the flip side of the coin, so to speak.

Over on the Threads that Bind blog, I posted an article describing several rather nasty methods of torture. Torture being nothing more than our desire to inflict pain taken to the next level. Take a look at the link below:

Oh, the Pain! The Pain!

The article makes for good Halloween reading and could be a resource for writers.

Epicurus believed eudaimonia (the good life, a life of well-being, a life of living and doing well) was a life of continuous pleasurable experiences that was free from pain and distress.

In other words, according to Epicurus, reducing or eliminating all pain and distress from our lives goes a long way to our achieving that ultimate state of pleasure which is the good life.

And isn’t that what we seek each and every day? The absence of pain? Of course it is.

We take painkillers; over-the-counter and prescription.

We might use illegal drugs to kill pain and induce a temporary state of euphoria.

We buy things to give ourselves to lift our spirits.

We may even inflict pain on others because we get a little high watching them suffer.

Where people get Epicurus wrong is that they miss his point that virtue is an intrinsic part of achieving the state of happiness, which is a life of pleasure and an absence of pain. For Epicurus, pleasure is only good if it doesn’t bring about any pain.

For that reason, he didn’t advocate marriage or having children because both too often bring pain into a persons life. The same with having sex. It isn’t bad, it just results too often in pain. So it’s best to avoid it.

I believe Epicureanism is a fitting philosophy for Western first world people seeking meaning and purpose in life. It fits well with our sensibilities. We want lives free from pain and filled with pleasure. Epicurus shows how to get the good pleasure that never produces pain.

A pursuit of Epicurean pleasure might also eliminate, or at least diminish, our love of inflicting pain on others. And that just might make this world a little better. Who wouldn’t want that?

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

 

 

 

CW Hawes is a playwright; award-winning poet; and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes 

 

 

Justinia Wright Private Investigator Mysteries on Amazon!

Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles on Amazon!

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HP Lovecraft and Pierce Mostyn – Part 2

Cosmic, or Lovecraftian, Horror

Cosmic horror is largely, if not solely, the creation of HP Lovecraft. Of whom Stephen King said he “has yet to be surpassed as the Twentieth Century’s greatest practitioner of the classic horror tale.”

There are certain themes that differentiate Lovecraft’s brand of horror from other horror subgenres. Let’s take a look at some of the key themes.

Humans Are Insignificant

It’s a big universe out there. And we don’t know even a fraction of it.  As Lovecraft commented often (and I’m paraphrasing), we are an insignificant species on a fly speck. And if there are in fact multiverses, then that fly speck just became innumerable times smaller.

Philosophically, Lovecraft was basically a mechanistic materialist. We exist, but that doesn’t mean we’re more important than anything else. In fact, the universe is indifferent to us. We aren’t objectively special. For Lovecraft, we definitely weren’t made in God’s image. There’s no God, for starters. Rather, he was inspired by the atheistic Epicureans and the theory of evolution.

Therefore, in the typical cosmic horror story there is little focus on characterization. The main character is usually the story’s narrator. We get to know something of him, although sometimes he’s an unreliable narrator.

The focus of the story is on the gradual revelation of that which is hiding behind the narrator’s (and our) illusion of reality. That which is greater than us and views us as we view ants on the sidewalk.

The Great Old Ones, at least for Lovecraft, didn’t actually exist. They were literary devices to convey our position in the vastness of the universe and that the universe doesn’t give a fig about us.

The Heroes Are Loners

The hero of the cosmic horror tale has affinities with the punk hero. He is socially isolated, and therefore frequently a loner. Occasionally an outcast. He is often reclusive, and possesses a scholarly bent.

This puts the cosmic horror hero in the unique position of being able to peel back the veneer of what we think is reality to see the real reality behind it. Often at the expense of his sanity.

Pessimism, or Indifference

Lovecraft insisted later in life that his philosophy was not pessimistic, but rather led one to indifference. A fine line there. Basically, though, there is nothing in the universe that cares about us or values us. We humans are alone on a tiny speck of dust. We are dwarfed by the vastness of space. The very vastnesses of which Whitman sang so positively and eloquently about. For Lovecraft, there is nothing positive about them.

In this, Lovecraft was very much in line with the ancient Greek Epicurean philosophy. The universe was simply chaos. It provides us nothing. We must focus on ourselves and find pleasure and happiness in intellectual pursuits away from the madding crowd.

The Great Old Ones of Lovecraft’s invention aren’t so much malignant or malevolent as that they just don’t give a fig about us. We are inconsequential to them.

However, to us their indifference might seem to be malevolent or evil. But in reality, like us, they just are. They’re doing their thing. If we suffer as a result, well, do we care about the ants we step on?

Therefore the hero in the cosmic horror tale is often incapable of doing much to thwart the cosmic forces ranged against him. The best he can do is warn us of the truth that is out there.

The Veneer of Reality

We live in a dream state, as it were. Lovecraft was fascinated by dream worlds. In The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath he postulates a parallel world only attainable by means of dreams.

Because we are in a dream, as it were, what we see and think to be reality isn’t in fact reality at all. It’s Dorothy in Oz. Only we see a nice old man until Toto pulls back the curtain and reveals the monster at the controls.

The real reality is too horrible for us to comprehend. In our dream state we believe we have value — when in reality we have no value at all. We have no significance in the universe. And by extension nothing else has any significance either.

That is the true terror of cosmic horror: the revelation and realization that we are living a lie. It is the literary portrayal of the Nietzschian coming to awareness of who and what we really are.

That realization is also the basis for the “leap of faith” to find meaning for our existence. Epicurus sought meaning in intellectual pleasure. Nietzsche sought meaning in the pursuit of art; that is, creativity. The Existentialists made that leap to whatever might have meaning for them as individuals. And argued that we do the same.

Not unlike the Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius’s statement that “life is opinion”. That is, life is what we think it is. Although, for the Roman emperor, the statement was more an affirmation of the contemporary saying, It’s all in your ‘tude. Because Stoicism is inherently a much more positive philosophy.

Fear Of The Other

We have an innate fear of that which is not like us. This goes back to the very beginnings of the human species when we existed in family units and tribes. Anything that was not us, was to be viewed with suspicion — if not outright fear.

Lovecraft is frequently criticized today for being xenophobic and racist. By today’s standards he was — but in his own era I’m not so sure he was any different than most of his peers. There is a danger in judging the past by other than it’s own standards.

Even today, Western views of what constitutes xenophobia and racism are not universally shared. Which means the question must be asked, what makes Western views any more valid than any other views? That, though, is another discussion.

One thing is for sure — the xenophobia and racism we see in Lovecraft’s stories feeds on our own innate and latent fear of those people and things that are different from us and of our fear of the unknown in general. They feed on our own tribal mentality. The primeval us-them dynamic. The dynamic that made us who we are today: too often judgmental, critical, and suspicious. We and our opinions are good. Everyone else and there opinions are bad.

Throughout most of our history as a species, the tribal mentality allowed us to survive. The problem being that as we developed civilization, many of those survival traits became a hindrance to our working together in a genteel environment. Hence the creation of religious moral codes and cultural mores and folkways to control those “undesirable” traits.

As Will Durant noted, “Every vice was once a virtue, and may become respectable again, as hatred becomes respectable in war. Brutality and greed where once necessary in the struggle for existence, and are now ridiculous atavisms; men’s sins are not the result of his fall; they are the relics of his rise.” Do note that every vice may become respectable again. Something to think about.

In Lovecraft’s worldview, the Other consists of all the impersonal cosmic forces that exist. In his fiction, he personified these impersonal forces as The Great Old Ones. Inter- or Other-dimensional beings who have moved into our territory.

Just as we give little thought to mosquitoes, or gnats, or ants, so The Great Old Ones give little, if any, thought to us. To repeat, they aren’t so much malevolent, as they are indifferent to our existence and survival. Just as we are indifferent to the survival of mosquitoes, gnats, or ants.

Lovecraft is simply positing that cosmically speaking — we aren’t necessarily at the top of the food chain. Something to think about as we venture into outer space. Which was cleverly addressed in The Twilight Zone episode “To Serve Man”.

In light of the above, the Pierce Mostyn adventures may not be pure examples of cosmic horror. But we’ll look at that next week.

Comments are always welcome! And until next week, happy reading!

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