Life Is Happiness Indeed

Edward: [singing] Dear Boy! \ Sweet honey comes from bees that sting \ As you are well aware \ To one adept in reasoning\ Whatever pain disease may bring\ Are but a tangy seasoning \ To love's delicious fare—

Jack: —Edward, greetings!

Edward: Jack! Hello, friend.

Jack: Were you singing?

Edward: Ah, yes. Pardon me. I sometimes take to singing tunes while out and about and hiking alone on a trail under a beautiful blue sky and amid the serene natural landscape and ... Never mind that. How are you?

Jack: I feel great. I take to going as fast as I can while hiking. It's good to keep the heart rate up.

[Jack places two fingers on his neck for a few seconds to check his pulse.]

Jack: Although, I think I could use a break. Would you mind if I walked along with you for a while?

Edward: Certainly. I suspect both you and the ears of the wildlife would find it most restful.

[Jack and Edward walk together along the trail at a modest, casual pace, and for a few moments they walk in silence.]

Jack: Edward, about our previous conversation: I forgive you.

Edward: You forgive me?

Jack: Yes. I forgive you.

Edward: Well, thank you, I guess. May I ask for what I'm forgiven?

Jack: As you surely remember, you and I discussed moral relativism.

Edward: I do remember.

Jack: And the conversation did not play out as I liked at the time. In fact, I'd say you destroyed moral relativism for me. This could have been very bad, but in fact it's all for the best. In fact, much good has come about because of that conversation. I see now that moral relativism is a dead end.

Edward: Really?

Jack: Yes. Now I'm pursuing my Doctrine of Universal Acceptance.

Edward: Your doctrine of universal acceptance?

Jack: Yes, but capitalized. It's my idea of accepting everyone around me for who they are. It's quite liberating, really. I find myself much more at peace than I ever was as a moral relativist.

Edward: That's good to hear.

Jack: It is good—if I were to pass judgment on it.

Edward: Sorry, I'll try to refrain from implying judgment.

Jack: If you want. It's totally up to you.

Edward: Um, yes.

Jack: I know now that there are moral absolutes. And yet while there exist both good and bad things, I accept all in kind and wish not to change the bad to good. Especially the good and bad in people. I wish to respect their autonomy.

Edward: Certainly.

Jack: Really, it makes for the best of all possible worlds. To each his own and to all, love. You're frowning, Edward!

Edward: My apologies. I have a rather nasty habit of doing that while I'm deep in thought.

Jack: Deep in thought? Is something I said unclear?

Edward: What you said is quite clear indeed. Really, it's just a small matter about which I was thinking.

Jack: Please speak your mind. I'll accept anything you have to say.

Edward: Well, okay. You say that this doctrine—excuse me—this Doctrine of Universal Acceptance is a new outlook for you. Does this mean then that you previously were not accepting of the people around you?

Jack: Certainly I wasn't! Previously I judged people and sometimes quite negatively so. It can be quite frustrating, as you surely know, to see someone acting in a way you wish them not to act, and the desire to have them change their behavior can be very strong. Only with my new Doctrine do I now see that in the best of all possible worlds people are accepted for who they are. Live and let live, I say. To each his own!

Edward: I see. That's quite liberal of you.

Jack: Thank you.

Edward: So do I understand correctly that your natural inclination—your default level of acceptance—is not to accept people fully and completely?

Jack: Exactly. This is a newer me, a happier me, and it's all due to my Doctrine.

Edward: Yes, your Doctrine of Universal—

Jack: —Acceptance!

Edward: Yes, and your Doctrine is truly universal and applies to accepting everyone and everything?

Jack: Absolutely!

Edward: Including yourself and your own nature of not accepting everyone and everything?

Jack: Well...

[Jack stares ahead for a few moments, deep in thought, as the two continue walking along the trail in silence.]

Jack: I think I must be pushing along now. One should keep one's heart rate up, of course. You should do some speed training, Edward. It would be better for your health and overall fitness than always ambling along at such a slow pace.

Edward: So some say. Goodbye, Jack. Have a good run.

Jack: Goodbye, Edward.

Reading Log, no. 6-5

The austerity measures began in the lobby, with the flowers and bowls of candy. Benny liked to smell the flowers. "I miss the nice flowers," he said. Then we got an officewide memo taking away our summer days. "I miss my summer days even more than the flowers," he remarked. At an all-agency meeting the following month, they announced a hiring freeze. Next thing we knew, no one was receiving a bonus. "I couldn't give a damn about summer days," he said, "but my bonus now, too?" Finally, layoffs began. "Flowers, summer days, bonuses -- fine by me," said Benny. "Just leave me my job."

Joshua Ferris
Then We Came to the End

Finally, a book that exposes white collar employment for the adult day care that it is. Or so I thought while reading Then We Came to the End, which is yet another work of fiction dealing with the absurdities of office work.

And so I enjoyed this book, although really it's kinda lame. I could never figure out if author Joshua Ferris actually is properly cynical of our modern economy or instead whether it's impossible not to write something damning of white collar employment if one writes anything about it at all. Perhaps the excellent bits of cynicism in Then We Came to the End are merely the emergent consequences of describing a system that is beyond redemption.

Probably the most important thing is that the book is funny, and humor is the only effective vehicle for negativity.

There was so much unpleasantness in the workday world. The last thing you ever wanted to do at night was go home and do the dishes. And just the idea that part of the weekend had to be dedicated to getting the oil changed and doing the laundry was enough to make those of us still full from lunch want to lie down in the hallway and force anyone dumb enough to remain committed to walk around us. It might not be so bad. They could drop food down to us, or if that was not possible, crumbs from their PowerBars and bags of microwave popcorn would surely end up within an arm's length sooner or later. The cleaning crews, needing to vacuum, would inevitably turn us on our sides, preventing bedsores, and we could make little toys out of runs in the carpet, which, in moments of extreme regression, we might suck on for comfort.

Thanks Mr. Ferris for the good read, but I won't be actively looking for anything of yours in the future.

* * *

So concludes Reading Log no. 6.