Weltanschaung

The Philosopher’s Stone

zenothestoic@protonmail.ch

Tag: Conflict

  • And God so loved the world he sent Trump

    And God so loved the world he sent Trump

    To be a light to his people MAGA.

    And seeing the multitudes, the Blessed Trump went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him. There was Pete (called Hegseth) and Vance (the Crusader) and many other blindly loyal followers.

    And Trump opened his mouth, and taught them, saying:

    • Blessed are the greedy: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
    • Blessed are the vicious: for they shall inherit the earth.
    • Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after violence: for they shall be filled.
    • Blessed are the un-merciful: for they shall obtain their just reward.
    • Blessed are the corrupt: for they shall see God.
    • Blessed are the war-makers: for they shall be called the children of God.
    • Blessed are they which persecute: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
    • Blessed are ye, when you revile men, and persecute them, and say all manner of evil against them, for my sake.
    • Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward here on earth.
    • Ye , MAGA, are the light of the world. A people that is set on an dung – hill cannot be hid.
    •  Let your greed and cruelty so shine before men, that they may see your vile works, and glorify me.
    • Think not that I am come to destroy the law, : I am not come to destroy, but to twist and use it.
    • Whosoever shall do and teach my commandments, the same shall be called great in the kingdom of earth.
    • I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with the world without a cause shall be in receipt of great rewards: and whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in my good books forever.
    • Leave there thy gift before my altar, and go away: for I will spend it on a Bootiful, Bootiful new arch. And ballroom.
    • Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery: but this was total bollox.
    • And if thy neighbour’s right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee.
    • It hath been said, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement: but this was also total bollox. Don’t give her anything.
    •  Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: now they got this one dead right.  Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, nuke him and his wife and children and all his family.
    • And if any man will sue thee at the law, take away his coat, and kick him into the gutter.
    • And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, stick it to him.
    • Don’t give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee tell him to fuck right off.
    • Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. This is bollox: hate everyone and cheat them.
    • Be ye therefore a deranged and vicious narcissist, even as I am.
    • But when thou doest alms, let thy left hand take back what thy right hand giveth.
    • But when ye pray, use vain repetitions: the more vain, repetitious, hypocritical crap you use the better.
    •  And lead us into temptation, and evil: For mine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.
    • For if ye forgive men their trespasses, I will send ICE round to detain you in a horrible prison. Or maybe just shoot you.
    • Lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth. They are the only type worth having.
    • No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Don’t serve God: suck it up with mammon.
    • Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; idle fuckers. Are ye not much better than they? You betcha: drill baby, drill. Bugger the biosphere.
    • For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. So wipe ’em all out and they’ll never bother you again. Eradicate Gaza and the entire Iranian civilisation.
    • And it is said Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye. Bollox to that.
    • Give not that which is valuable unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you. Fuck ’em.
    • Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: Then I’ll send ICE round. Or Pete here will give you a good seeing to.

    And it came to pass, when Trump had ended these sayings, the people were astonished at his doctrine: even the great people of MAGA said:

    Verily we have a right shit amongst us. Impeach the fucker.

  • The Crusaders

    The Crusaders

    Deus Vult

    There has to be a better way.

    Yet another humanitarian crisis as a greedy  narcissist chases money and a couple of “Christian” extremists seek Armageddon. 

    The brutal Dark Age Theocracy in Iran massacres its own people, but nobody seems too concerned.  Least of all the Zionist government in Israel, which continues the slaughter to maintain its  biblical dominion over land “god” gave the Jews.

    The only imperative is for peace and a cessation of violence. The only relevant issue is how to bring this about.

    Whose fault the current atrocities are is of little consequence beside the need to stop the killing for good. On all sides. The endless revenge and counter revenge, the tit for tat where even small children are taught to hate the perceived enemy. The truth is that we are our own enemy.

    There is no country, no society which can claim to be “good”. There are only degrees of “bad”. And the bad is not Satan, not some external imaginary monster. It is us. We are the monsters, big and small.

    Every aspect of our behaviour is competitive, itself a form of aggression. More money, land, food.  Gold, jewellery, real estate. Be better than the neighbours and if possible take what they have by commerce or it’s near relative, force.

    That is us, that is humanity and it’s time for real change. Time for each of us to reform his own personality and behaviour, to lead by example. To rein in temper and aggression, whether in our driving habits, our profession or business. To forget about the ego, self. To think of the common good instead.

    There will never be agreement on which god is best, which view is right, what is beautiful, what is ugly. And that doesn’t matter if we cease fighting about it.  10 billion people live on a planet owned and controlled by a small minority.  10 billion people are governed by a hierarchy, by an elite. True freedom and democracy doesn’t exist but at least we could improve it by ridding ourselves of hierarchy – both in terms of wealth and government.

    But those are longer term goals. What we need to do immediately is to stop the brutal slaughter and replace bombs with words. Replace ignorant hatred with understanding and compassion.

    Negotiate, even with the Theocracy. Bring them round, help them. Lift the sanctions making life so difficult for a mostly blameless people. Bring back diplomacy and reason.

    Above all, give kindness and hope. Do unto others.

  • Peace and Love

    Peace and Love

    They were right all along, the peaceniks and beatniks, the hippies and the ban the bombers. Flower Power could heal the world, given the chance. But armed forces can never make either peace, or love, for that is not their purpose.

    The tin-pot, demented dictator with the ginger wig looks set to take over Greenland and with the most powerful army on earth, no one can stop him.

    You thought you didn’t like Putin very much. Another hair brained maniac intent on empire and conflict.  And what of Benjamin Netanyahu, determined to inflict holocaust, having learnt nothing from the suffering of his own race.

    So much for international law, for NATO, for the US constitution. A geriatric thug with a bad case of narcissism and incipient dementia has pissed all over all of it and no one is stopping him.

    So much for Peace and Love.

    The trumpets of war sound in every corner. Armies are to be increased and paraded and manoeuvred and given their head once again.

    And all on the pretext of “peace” and “security”.  Such lame excuses justify the murder of untried people in fast boats on the ocean. The kidnap and imprisonment of heads of state. The invasion of neighbours and foreign lands.

    The Empires Strike Back! Russian or American, what difference, who cares.  Lebensraum.  Theft of oil and minerals.  The demonisation of the “enemy” who must be conquered, eliminated, overrun.

    If any of this sounds familiar, then it ought  to. It has happened with monotonous regularity over thousands and thousands of years.  Again, and again and again.

    Only Flower Power can stop it.

    Or at least the underlying philosophy which brought out mass demonstrations against war, brutality and greed.

    It was Vietnam in those days and it was the Russian communist bogyman who had to be defeated.  With napalm and vast fleets of bombers.

    And so on through the ages back to the dawn of humanity and on to our eventual demise; in all probability.

    For those determined not to get caught up in the feverish nonsense of humanity it looks so absurd and unnecessary. So avoidable. 

    The world is a bubbling, heaving mass of unnecessary “doing”. Whereas all we need “do” is to “be”.

    To want what we have, not what others have got. To understand ourselves, to see what mean and ugly motives generally drive us.  To spend our time improving life by looking after our people, not filling our own pockets.

    By ditching armies and war and by concentrating on science and improving our planet. By preventing the obscene injustice whereby the rich own the world and the rest lie in the dirt.

    It isn’t politics, it’s simply decency.

    So very little of what goes on in the world matters. Nothing matters really – except peace and love. What a silly phrase and yet how true.  The endless grubbing around like pigs in the dirt for more of this and that. The absurdity of economic growth and the destruction of the very base of our survival – a fragile planet.

    How little we need to live a good life and yet we endlessly seek more. Always at somebody else’s expense.

    Commerce is a zero sum game – someone is always on the take.  Trying to convince the losers he is on their side.

    How often has all this been said. How many religions have taught all this and failed.

    Lay down in front of the tanks. Even if only metaphorically. Vote for peace not war. Vote for equality not capitalism and commerce.

    Lay down flowers. Look within to better understand the view without.

    It’s never too late.

  • Opinions and the Opiniated

    Opinions and the Opiniated

    I have become very wary of expressing any opinion – it can so easily turn into aggression.

    As well as astonishing dullness and conceit.

    A couple of cases made me aware recently that I should very probably remain silent, whatever I feel or think about a particular subject.

    I had dinner with one poor fellow I have known a while, whose company has sometimes been something of a trial.

    Whatever anybody says, he will automatically disagree in a manner which has always seemed rude and bullying.  Others excuse him on the grounds that he has a kind heart, which may well be the case, nonetheless I find his behaviour grating, to say the very least.

    I always try to psych myself up before we meet, making a firm decision not to engage, to stick to small talk, not to venture any view on anything.

    For some exasperating reason I found myself slipping recently and ventured an opinion on a fraught matter of philosophy.  I was immediately corrected and treated to a view very different from my own.  A view which did not appear to be particularly well informed.

    I found myself veering into a mild argument – it happens to be a subject upon which I have read widely over the years.  Unfortunately, my “opponent” did not appear to have read quite so widely, and I was firmly and somewhat impolitely corrected on every single point I made.

    I remained calm, and I hope polite, but I am sure my annoyance must have shown in my face.  Exasperated, I suggested my guest might perhaps be best to read a little more widely on the question before tackling me again on one of my pet subjects.  He blustered for a little longer, went bright red, and then, mercifully, ceased to talk.

    Immediately, I deeply regretted what I had said. I regretted that I had ventured any sort of opinion. On anything. It would have been so much better to have smiled and remained silent, however provoked.

    Other opinions which I recently been wearied by have been found in books.

    There can be few opinions so dull as those ventured on the topic of “enlightenment” and “awareness”.

    Religious and spiritual salesmen are very fond of selling books and seminars and junkets on these topics. Out of which great fortunes have been made and continue to be made.

    When greed comes through one window, honesty and decency fly out of the other.

    Think “mediaeval catholic church” and the chantry.  Salvation and heavenly bliss for the founder in return for cash.

    Think “power of now”, think “12 steps to…… ” such and such unachievable goal.  Opinionated bollox on enlightenment or a calculated and dishonest sale of snakeoil in return for worldly riches? Who knows, but the latter seems a strong possibility.

    I bought a book recently by a psychotherapist who seemed to have some good common-sense views. On the absurdity of unprovable faith in religion and the awfulness of snakeoil salesmen in the New Age movement and elsewhere.  On the need to drop belief in most things and simply go with the flow.

    Unfortunately, by half-way through the book I realised that the fellow was probably just as opinionated and boorish as any other writer on self-help and, loosely speaking, spirituality.

    I found his nihilism eventually just as grating as those who try to make me believe in miracles or a benign deity.

    We are all robots apparently, there is no such thing as the self or panpsychism and anything other than pure physicalism is nonsense. And so is everything else which cannot be proved conclusively in a chemistry lab. Today.

    And so, the book turned out to be yet another long litany of opinion. Occasionally softened by the author admitting he “did not know”.  Unfortunately, despite this denial, it became very clear that the author very firmly believed he did know, and eventually his professions of unknowing became very hollow indeed.

    Here was simply another book full of strongly held opinions.  The author is right and anyone who does not share his views on the much-disputed field of “awareness” is dismissed as simply wrong.

    So, what of myself? Where do I stand on all this shyte and what do I intend to do about it?

    I will repeat once again that the older I get, the more I understand my fallibility.  Every time I think I am getting somewhere, something happens or is said which makes me realise that my apparent progress is almost certainly illusory.

    And so, if I continue to write at all, it must be from the perspective of a very personal diary which merely follows my “progress”, my daily search for meaning and happiness.

    And outside of these pages I must try very much harder to keep my mouth shut. To keep my opinions to myself.  Who knows, some of my views may turn out to be right, but realistically many of them will be seen eventually (perhaps even by myself) as nonsense.

    So, I will read no more books on questions to which I know so well there are no answers.  Which, in all honesty, leaves me to read for simple pleasure. Sci-fi, spy stories, adventure, fun.  Stick to Tom Wolfe or John le Carré, Ian Banks. Evelyn Waugh perhaps or Graham Greene.

    And I will certainly continue to meditate.  The guy whose book I got halfway through thinks it’s crap. That people who meditate are merely self-hypnotising, anaesthetising themselves against the trials and tribulations of the “real” world.  This guy toughs it all out and presumably feels good about that.

    Meditation straightens my mind out. It relaxes me, it helps me to see the world in perspective. It enables me to see what is important in the world (very little) and what is not (most of it).

    It helps me to observe my own mind, my own behaviour. It helps me to be a kinder, better person (an ongoing endeavour).

    Far from hypnotising myself into a belief in a god or gods, or some heavenly realm (here on earth or elsewhere) I find that meditation makes me more realistic. About the state of the world, about my own behaviour, about what matters.

    But there I go again – I am pushing an opinion, mine. That mediation and other ways I keep myself amused has a benefit. Or, worse, a truth.

    Well, let me make it quite plain: my way of life suits me. It might suit you, it might not. I need endless quiet; I need to go within. I need silent contemplation and art and beautiful music.

    Perhaps it doesn’t make me “better” (but in whose opinion)?

    But it certainly makes me feel better. And I believe it makes me more tolerant and hopefully easier to live with.

    So, if you read any more of my diary, recognise that it contains no “truth” as such.

    It merely represents one old man’s attempt to make sense of his own life and the complex world around him.

    Illustration: Jean-François de Troy – Time Unveiling Truth

  • The Migrant Rat

    The Migrant Rat

    In a crappy little country which once called itself “Great” (on account of the number of races it had subjugated and the vast swathes of land it had annexed as its own) even the housewife realised that the kingdom’s ills were caused by migrants. 

    First Minster Chopthwack was himself from an immigrant family, but it was election year and he and his fascist cronies had to blame someone for the terrible mess they had made.

    It was alright for Chopthwack and his mates of course. They were all worth a packet, some by dint of inheritance, some through advantageous marriage and some through the endless swindles of brute capitalism.

    But the damn immigrants, that was another matter. They all came from third world shitholes where the inequality and appalling poverty was even worse. But why should their misery impact upon the Kingdom? Was it Chopthwack’s fault that these guys had been brutally raped and tortured by the ruling lovelies in the the hell holes they had escaped from?

    So, blame the migrants, portray them as vermin (as once a magnificently successful but ultimately flawed dictator had labelled an entire race). Which he proceeded to exterminate.

    Trouble is, you couldn’t stop the buggers pouring in anyway. Even if you let them drown in the hostile strip of water many crossed in toy rafts, others still came through, packed inside petrol tanks, strapped to aircraft wheels, or by walking through a tunnel.

    So make the best of it! Blame the migrants! Pack ’em up in prison hulks like dear old Magwich.  Shove ’em in holding bays. Make ’em suffer!

    And above all let the voters know that society’s ills are the fault of migrants. Dehumanise them. Soon enough the stupid punters would be waving banners and cheering you on as you dragged the migrant by force through the streets, handcuffed him, and sent him off to a place which had in the past suffered brutality and genocide of an entirely satisfactory type.

    Soon enough, Chopthwack would be suspending “democracy”, such as it was. And the people would egg him on! Applaud him, just like they had worshipped President Fart over the other side of the waters.

    Fart had successfully brainwashed his own electorate into believing that he could make his country “great” again. And organised a putsch to make himself Mr President for life.

    That was it! Chopthwack had a wonderful role model to follow!  First Minister for Life! And all he had to do was send a few unwanted immigrants off to a better place.  One of his henchmen, Lord Snooty, had explained to the Kingdom’s head holy man that getting kidnapped and forcibly exported in manacles to Bwanga was a “redemption”.  A holy pilgrimage, nirvana, a life after death, a veritable heaven was Bwanga.

    Despite the inconvenient fact that a short while ago one tribal faction in Bwanga turned against another and these kindly chaps hacked about a million of their fellow countrymen to death with machetes.

    Anyway, what fault was that of Chopthwack’s? And so the rallies began and the Ministry of Propaganda portrayed the immigrants as the rats they undoubtedly were. Huge numbers of troops marched past the leaders’ dais and mutual salutes were exchanged to the accompanying roar of approval from the hypnotised masses.

    It was to be a Thousand Year Empire. A period of unparalleled glory and plenty. Not for the ordinary folk of course – Chopthwack despised those losers, almost as much as the damned migrants.

    What Chopthwack and his cronies really meant by their extravagant rhetoric was that in the next thousand years they would become richer and richer and would pay no taxes.  And the untermensch scum they ruled over would be chained to the factory bench, or strapped in delivery vans delivering the useless consumer trash Chopthwack and his mates turned out to keep the wheels on the capitalist wagon.

    And what of the Opposition? Did they bleat and shout and protest? And were they any better? Would the communist saints on the other side of the divide bring about the promised socialist utopia? Equality and plenty for all! Heaven on Earth! The Second Coming!

    It seemed unlikely. Their comrades elsewhere had committed genocide on a commendable and unprecedented scale.  Enemies of the Workers ‘ Paradise were killed with an efficiency even greater than the heroes who had massacred an entire race on their westerly borders.

    So there you had it. Chopthwack and the right wing media were on a slash and burn. Extinguish the rats! Seize power! Do down the untermensch! Screw the whole damn country and get back into power. A 1000 year Empire!

    The far left were equally vocal and really quite as venal.

    For the truth is that 9/10ths of them despised the Unwashed as well. They too sought the 1000 year Reich but called it a “Soviet”. But with themselves at the helm. Pursuing of course identical policies.

    Luscious country dachas for the ruling elite. The finest food and drink. Beluga caviar and the mighty chauffeur driven Zil.

    If the left looked stupid blaming the Migrant Vermin they would find some other class of victim to wind up the gullible fools at home. Kulaks perhaps, intellectuals, Jews. Who cares!

    And so our glorious species continues. Violence, greed, the insatiable and hollow desire for power and baubles. I’m alright Jack, sod the rest of ’em.

    The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.

  • Taliban

    Taliban

    Has it ever known peace, this sad and beautiful land.

    Taliban, you say and the world shudders.

    Lapis lazuli though, and hand woven rugs. Pomegranates and saffron, the cool beauty of mountains and rocky passes, dun coloured villages and the snow leopard. These too are Afghanistan.

    Not all is battle and violence in this ancient land. Leave all that behind. Start again and make your world, ours a better place.

    Must we always speak of politics and brutality. Can we not remember this land as a cradle of civilisation, a romantic cross roads between nations, the half way house on the Silk Road.

    Think good things then of this nation and its peoples. Is not Afghanistan the birthplace of Rumi. Is there poetry more profound than this Sufi’s search for his god.

    “Make peace with the universe. Take joy in it. It will turn to gold. Resurrection will be now. Every moment, a new beauty.”

    Arabesque arches and minarets, the geometry of sacred patterns, cool courtyards with a gently trickling fountain. Think this of Islam and its peoples. Not bloodshed and crusade.

    What religion has not been corrupted but what sublime peace can be found there even for the infidel, the non believer. Liturgy, music, prayer. Art and sublime architecture. Mysticism so very similar whether expressed by Sufi or Christian, Buddhist or Zoroastrian. A meeting with the infinite, an experience of profound joy and understanding.

    A plaything of empire for untold thousands of years, you have cast them off now, Pashtun and Tajik, Sunni and Shia. Show the Mongol horde and the Mauryas, the British and American invaders, the Russians and the Macedonians how well you can live and how you can reflect the glory of your god.

    Not with arms and suppression, not with public executions and the extermination of your enemies. Not with a brutal criminal law, outdated and man made.

    Grow in wisdom and kindness you men, masters once again of the land of your birth. And in dignity and decency. All men are equal, women too.

    Put down your arms and follow in the footsteps of Rumi:

    “As you start to walk on the way a way appears”

    Walk a new road, make peace with the universe. Every moment a new beauty.

    By Afghanistan Matters from Brunssum, Netherlands – ContrastsUploaded by GiW, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=29782737

  • So, ecumenism is bad for society?

    So, ecumenism is bad for society?

    I was sad to come across a post on the internet entitled “The Ecumenical Slope” whose author is both anti ecumenism and pacifism and who appears to believe that such doctrines destroy “character”.

    The author states that ecumenism is “evil”.

    I find such attitudes deeply disturbing since in my own book, any movement which tends towards peace on earth is a good thing. Peace is beneficial, which is why, mercifully we no longer worship Thor or consider battle as glorious. Well, most of us anyway.
    Not, apparently, the author of that blog.

    When I make my case for ecumenism, both secular and sacred, as can be well imagined, the author turns to insult to re-enforce his position. Thus in effect making my point for me – the human tendency towards violence is something which we should urgently address. Futile as that cause may seem.

    I would not have bothered to think about the matter but my mind turned towards it when I heard this afternoon of the continuing strife at the Hurlingham Club – a posh venue for the spoilt upper middle classes in London, to which my family and I belong.

    I won’t go into the details but the sorry saga at the club has taught me a thing or two about human nature. In particular, that humans are born to fight. And furthermore, that in order to bring about a better society we must resist conflict at all costs.

    Ecumenism is an attempt to foster better understanding of each other and closer, less harmful relationships. It can refer to religious groups or simply to people in general. It says a lot about our world and human nature that there can exist people who argue against ecumenism and pacifism. Who argue, in effect, in favour of conflict and dissension.

    I confess that I am constantly irritated by individuals and by society in general. That I am disappointed and disturbed by human nature. I am constantly having to remind myself that my views and my own wishes are not something that I should foist on others and often have to think carefully and back off on any particular initiative I might have which looks like it will lead to conflict.

    A typical example is a recent initiative I lead to introduce choral music to our decrepit and decaying local church. And to obtain a key so that I could open the church for private contemplation. I was met by resistance and refusal and was faced with two choices: walk away, or take the matter up with higher authority against the wishes of the local church wardens. I decided to walk away. Parties become entrenched in power and entrenched in their ways, believing that they represent the community; perhaps they do but one suspects that they represent only that section of the community with which they find themselves in agreement. Such is our nature.

    I chose to walk away. And so with the author of that curious blog. When he offered insult in return for my well meant and peacefully phrased comment, I recognized it was time to walk away and leave him to his views, however much I disagreed with them.

    I can honestly say that I have no idea how to deal with aggression. I am very unclear what could or should have been done in 1939.

    But I am ever more clear that wherever and whenever possible, I will walk away.

  • Sore Points: Settle or Leave to Fester?

    Sore Points: Settle or Leave to Fester?

    Human interactions and relationships will never be without their difficulties. Should sore points be discussed and settled in the open or  buried in the hope they will go away?

    The mature and adult option is undoubtedly to discuss any issues freely and to resolve them. One way or another. Perhaps all parties will then be satisfied with what has been decided. Perhaps not but at least everybody knows where they stand.

    The key is to avoid bitterness, recrimination and anger. To leave a grievance to fester is likely, over the years to destroy a relationship.  To discuss areas of concern in an atmosphere of understanding and kindness may lead to a different sort of relationship, or to no relationship at all.  But it will hopefully not result in anger or misunderstanding.

    All too often we misunderstand each other. Or approach each other in the wrong way.  All too often we refuse to acknowledge a problem and bury it until it becomes a bigger problem.

    As we get older, some of us become more philosophical. We are ruffled by less and less. We leave well alone in many cases. The daily news: who cares? Human nature as it stands requires endless conflict almost by definition. Evolution has ensured that all life on earth struggles to survive, usually at the cost of of other life which surrounds it.  Why bother to read about conflict let alone engage in it?

    We eat plants and animals. We kill them to survive. We seek pleasure in an effort to find meaning, not realizing that we will never be satisfied.  We survey, enviously, greener pastures and are often tempted to stray.

    What we should be doing is to wean ourselves away from such unthinking behavior. Assuming our chemical and algorithmic drives will permit us to do this. Assuming we have free will and are not robots.

    Above all we should avoid damage to those around us. But damage can be caused both by action and inaction. It is a fine balance. Will less harm result from burying an issue or in raising it? My suspicion is that the greater good will come from informed and kind discussion.

    We bury too much. Mental health has long been taboo and we are only just beginning to stand up and admit when we have a problem. And to seek help, even though such help as is available is pitifully inadequate – our science is not yet up to it.

    And so with all problems – bring them out into the open.  Do I have anger issues? Am I happy in my job? In my career? Is a relationship fulfilling and all it can be? Are their problems?

    No good can come from hiding issues in the dark and building up resentment. Much good can come from open discussion and from planning a route forward.

  • The Destructive Power of Cynicism

    The Destructive Power of Cynicism

    Reading of the demise of renowned fund manager Neil Woodford, I was reminded of my deep capacity for destructive cynicism.

    The fellow had had a good run for many years but like all gurus, investment or otherwise, he eventually proved to have feet of clay like the rest of us.

    But cynicism and its close relative schadenfreude are undoubtedly not the correct way to “greet” the news.

    Cynicism seems to be one of my default settings and it is not a healthy one. It strikes most vehemently after a bad night’s sleep when I am feeling (just for a change) irritable and grumpy.

    It is my view that active fund managers succeed more by luck than skill (however intelligent they may be, or otherwise). They also prosper by good marketing. Fund managers are by definition “Andy Average” and the stars, over the long term, revert to the mean.

    While that may be true, the correct response to such a decline such as that suffered by this long successful manager should be quiet understanding of the laws of the market which humble us all eventually.

    My natural temptation on bad hair days is to crow. To say “I told you so”. But this is not helpful. He, along with all the other fallen stars, have presumably done a good and honest job as stewards of our pensions and savings over many years.

    It is entirely our own fault, not his, if we believed the hype which inevitably follows such people on their rise towards what (inevitably) turns out to be their zenith. If we were so convinced that such stars are eventually pulled by gravity to their nadir then so be it, we were right all along. But so what?

    If we believe in fairy tales we will eventually be disappointed, but we have to believe in something or we will not get through the day, let alone life.

    Cynicism is such an easy and yet self destructive trap to fall into.

    Instead of commenting on such things (or even noticing their occurrence) we should be quietly promoting views which we consider to be more appropriate.

    To concentrate on the positive and to ignore the negative.

    This post is not intended to be about my investment views. But I should concentrate on the positive; I should tell people about what I consider the “correct” and more durable approach to investing.

    Negativity serves no purpose whatsoever.

  • Anger is Self-Harm

    Anger is Self-Harm

    The anger I felt after a set-to a week ago was a futile exercise in self harm.

    I had a problem with two people. One I shall call Psycho and for her I feel deep pity and sadness. The other I shall call the Buffoon and for him I feel (I am sorry to say) contempt.

    I should have known better than to answer Psycho’s call. I have been trying to help for many years but she knows the lot and is incapable of listening or being wrong. Every time I have had contact in recent years, the poor thing has lit some touch paper inside me and left me feeling angry, guilty, irritable and sad in equal parts for many days after.

    Unfortunately when crossed, Psycho likes to let the world know and will make trouble on an epic scale. Countless parties will be copied in on trouble making emails, cc’d to friends, family, lawyers, the Archbishop of Ulam Bator  and Uncle Tom Cobbley.  The object seems to be to cause massive buggeration all round.

    Tittle tattle, gossip and venom are poured out in equal measure and the Buffoon (one of the lucky recipients) saw an opportunity to join battle, sending his own batch of vitriolic nonsense to various of the parties.  You would feel pity also for the Buffoon if he were not a self important, ill educated and stupid windbag intent on nothing but his own aggrandizement and self interest.

    But look who is working himself up…which brings me back to the point. At last.  Whether I am on the moral high ground or, more probably, not, I am self harming by allowing anger to surface. For me anger is rather like agent orange; or dogshit on the bottom of my shoes. I just can’t scrape it off. It festers, smells and builds for days until my blood pressure rises, and another trip to the doctor is called for.

    I am sure that if you are a saintly cove like the dear old Dalai Wotsit, you don’t get angry in the first place. Years of sitting cross legged and saying “Ommmm” must have made him immune to vulgar, common or garden anger. And what of the self help Gurus like Choppy Deepak and Eggsplurt Tolla? Such great men claim to live in the now and are presumably immune to the Seven Deadly Sins.

    Sadly I am a lowly mortal and when I get pissed off I really do have a massive Bad Hair day. Well quite a few Bad Hair days really.  I am impossibly irritable and bad tempered, I drive dangerously, I do not sleep at night. My irritation with Psycho and the arselicking Buffoon courses through my veins.

    But guess what? It can all be avoided by the simple tactic of avoiding poor old Pyscho and the absurd Buffoon. Don’t read their emails, don’t pick up the phone. Baton down all hatches, close the blackout curtains.  Recognize that wherever the fault lies, all parties are suffering and no purpose is being served.

    I guess it isn’t always possible to cut people out of your life. Or there again, perhaps it is, with a bit of effort. Providing you don’t lose your rag you could change jobs, wives, husbands, countries, town or villages. Sexes even. Flee.  It would be a bit presumptuous to expect them to flee but as long as one party does, your purpose is served.

    I wish I were not so easily riled. I wish I were not such a bad tempered old fucker but there you go, I am.

    The serious point is that anger helps nobody and does immeasurable harm. Lives can be ruined, lost even. My own solution going forward will be to avoid danger, if at all possible. Make sure my paths do not cross with those who trigger my wrath. It’s the only way.

    Because Dalai Wotsit I am most definitely not!