Oh Brave New World

“Consider the matter dispassionately, Mr. Foster, and you will see that no offence is so heinous as unorthodoxy of behaviour. Murder kills only the individual- and, after all, what is an individual?”

It is truly a Brave New World Aldous Huxley envisions in his novel of exactly that title. What is the purpose of existence? Or, in the traditional form: What is the meaning of life? Huxley gets closer to the answer than any author I have ever read. Many a philosopher has asked the question, very very few have come anywhere close a coherent answer. The brilliance of “Brave New World” is that Huxley doesn’t really attemp to answer, he merely illustrates what is NOT the purpose – or more accurate, what should not be the purpose of human excistence. In doing this he strikes a fatal blow to the ideology of pre-war socialism.

“But I like the inconveniences.”
“We don’t,” said the Controller. “We prefer to do things comfortably.”
“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”
“In fact,” said Mustapha Mond, “you’re claiming the right to be unhappy.”
“All right then,” said the savage defiantly, “I’m claiming the right to be unhappy.”
“Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.”
“I claim them all,” said the Savage at last.

Does it sound familiar to You? Let’s ban smoking in bars, ban fast-food, ban this – ban that – it’s no good for the health of the people. The health of the people. Like there is one inseparable health for the entire nation, as if, everytime I eat a hamburger, everytime I walk into a bar filled with smoking people, I damage the health of everyone else.

We can probably all agree that syphilis, cancer and the like is very unpleasent conditions, but isn’t it really our own choice to make? Shouldn’t we all be allowed to live as dangerously as we see fit, as long as we do not endager the lifes of other people?  If your ask a random politician or bureaucrat, chances are the answer will be no.

“I claim the all”. That is the most important message from Huxley in this book – I claim them all, I claim the right to bring myself in danger, I claim the right to endure pain.

In the dystopia of Huxley’s brave new world people are screened off from life’s unpleasantries. Whenever there should be anything to worry about there is an abundance of “Soma”, the prozac of the future. Stability and happiness is the only goal of human existence. Stability and happines – isn’t that a sympathetic goal?  On the surface, yes. But where is the greatness of man? Where is the satisfactory feeling of achievement? Of having seen through troubles, pain and struggle?

Where is the Übermensch?  .. Well, sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself here, I will elaborate on the Übermensch sometime in the future.

A moveable feast

As i mentioned in my former past I started reading Hemingways “A moveable feast” yesterday. Meanwhile I got completely absorbed by the book and finished it just a few hours ago.

Hemingway (to the left) and the rest of la generation perdue

It is truly a great book, not so much about Paris as I’d expected, but a catchy accord on the poet/writer society in Paris in the 20′s. As always Hemingways style is very direct and easy approachable, a fact that in my opinion deserves much praise. Too many writers are way to inapproachable (Kafka, in particular, annoys me with his absurdness).

The highlight of the book is when Hemingway describes a trip to Lyon with hypochondriach Scott Fitzgerald to pick up the latters car. This describtion is truly genious, from the beginning when Hemingway explains his motivation to go: The option of travelling a seasoned writer and thus the option to elevate himself in the unwritten hierarchy of writers in Paris, over the conversation Hemingway had with a mechanic in Lyon to when they have to make stop in a small town somewhere between Lyon and Paris as the rain is pouring down and the top of the car have been broken off. In this town Fitzgerald goes to bed, certain he’s deadly ill, and Hemingway have to get a termometer to convince him he’s alright.

I’m very much looking forward to reading more of the books of Hemingway, especially “For whom the bell tolls” which is definetely high on my reading list. Next book I will be reading is Aldous Huxleys “Brave new world”

You can read much more about Hemingways Paris on this great blog

Update

I must admit I find blogging rather difficult, it is very easy to leave for a couple of days and then sometimes very difficult to pick up on it again. I will try to keep updating this blog at least once a week, although when I’m travelling there will probably fewer updates.

I have been reading quite a lot recently, and despite my earlier promises I haven’t really posted anything on the books I’ve read. I will try to make up for that now by giving some comments about the various books, not exactly reviews, but something less ambitious will have to do for now.

After serveral attempts I finally finished “Atlas Shrugged” by Ayn Rand in the beginning of January. At it’s best it is a really strong philosophical manifest. Rand has an ability to illustrate rather difficult principles through real-life situations, a method with a much broader appeal, although less elegant, than the more minimalistic method of many liberal philosophers, who uses theoretic setups. When this is said, for gods sake Ayn! Your book is way too long!! In my opinion it would be possible to cut out half of the pages without disturbing the message of the book. Nonetheless I can warmly recommend the book to anyone, libertarian or not, it has a good storyline and even though the characters are very flat, they makes the thoughts easy to understand.

When I approached Jørgen Leths “Det uperfekte menneske” (The unperfect human) I was full with prejudices, and it turned out I was right about most of them. Mr. Leth is really the prototype ’68 feelgood Giorgio Armani hippie. But at the same time he is completely frank about this and he makes no attempt to make himself look politically correct (Quite the contrary, most of the danish readers will know). Generally it is a really good and revealling book in which mr. Leth describes his passions: Cycling, film-making, the good dinner, young dark girls amongs others.

Charles Bukowski was recommended to me by a good friend, and one day before christmas I went to my local used bookstore and bought two of his books: “Women” and “Factotum”. I knew practically nothing about Bukowski and his books and chose to go along with “Women” to start with. It is a very intriguing book, describing the life of Henry Chinaski, a writer in his 50′s with a vivid sex-life and a huge consumption of alcohol. What I like most about the book is really the very down-to-earth descriptive form it’s written in, no attempts to analyze or make subtle conclusions – Bukowski leaves it to the reader to make his own conclusions.

After reading an interview with Jonathan Franzen in Weekendavisen, I decided to read his book “The discomfort zone”. The book is about Franzens own adolescence in mid-western St. Louis in the 60′s and early 70′s. Like “Det uperfekte menneske”, the strenght of Franzens book really is his honesty. The book jumps back and forth in time describing various scenes in Franzens life. It’s a good accord on the problems facing the prototype american middleclass family, and, besides from the last pages about birding, the whole book is interesting and humorous.

I have read a couple of other books, among them Tor Nørretranders “Mærk Verden” (Feel the world) which I hope to write a individual post about later on.
Right now I’m reading Hemingways “A moveable feast” as well as Nietzsches “Thus spoke Zarathustra”. The latter is very difficult to acces and understand, but nonetheless higly exciting and interesting, and I look forward to publish a post about it sometime soon.

Philosophy of non-legislation

Whenever I discuss politics and political philosophy with people around me, the discussion follows the same pattern surprisingly often (most of people around me have a lot more favourable view of the welfare state).

When I come around to state any sort of preference toward peoples opinion, people will usually say: “So you believe in legislation as well!” with a I-rest-my-case look on their faces. Simply, they assume right away that because I have an opinion toward something I want to enforce my opionion on everyone else by means of legislature. I prefer non-smoking restaurants, surely I most be in favour of a smoking-ban. No, no, no!

Besides from being just the pattern of discussions in my personal circle of friends, this deviation in philosophy, I think, represents a mayor divisive line between people who believe in liberty and people with an authoritarian preference.

How often don’t you encounter the logic that this or that is good/bad, thus let’s make a law! Too often! Frightenly many people think that the only moral thing to do is to enforce their personal preferences on everyone else by means of violence.

Islam and free speech

The last few weeks have been eventful here in Copenhagen. The so-called “cartoon-crisis” or “Muhammed-crisis” made it’s return, after threats towards one of the original cartoonist, Kurt Westergaard, promted a variety of newspapers to republish the controversial cartoons.

Apparently this led to big demonstrations on Nørrebro in Copenhagen, and the continous burning of cars all over the country.

While I believe that most of these burnings were simply banditism fuelled by the general uproar, I still think this whole extravaganza, both the current and the former “crisis”, demands us to take a general stance on the question of free speech versus religion.

Personally my stance is crystal clear: free speech is ALWAYS more important than religion. You should never have to fear for your life because you drew a cartoon. A modern liberal society should never heed religious calls to limit the right of free speech.

In my opinion everyone should be allowed to worship whatever god he or she feels fit, to build houses of worship and perform the rituals of this religion. But that is not the discussion in this case, this is not an attack on Islam or religion as such. This is a discussion about wether people of one religion should be allowed to enforce there believe on people of other (or no) believes, and let me make it clear: They shall not!

I usually see no reason to intentionally insult peoples believe, but in this case there appears to have been a fair reason. The publishing of the cartoons have pointed out loud and clear that Islam has a huge compatibility problem with free a liberal societies. I don’t hereby mean that the individual muslim poses a threat against my freedom, quite the contrary. Many individual muslims are today enslaved by others abuse of religion.

The problem is that, throughout the world, remarkably few countries with a muslim majority have a truly secular society. There still apperas to be a widespread belief that it is the role of the government to enforce religious dogmas, to a larger or smaller extent. Just look to Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Algeria, Afghanistan not to speak of Gaza or Sudan.

When muslims ind Denmark take it to the street, demonstrating for their right to impose their beliefs on everyone, it is very important to answer them with a conditonless NO! When the other muslims use direct violence, or the threat of violence, to enforce their beliefs, it is equally important to let them answer to the law, and make it clear for everyone such behaviour is illegal, no matter what beliefs you might have.

The only possible answer to this crisi is to stand firmly behind the foundations of our society: the rule of law, the right to free speech and religion as personal matter. Only by doing this can we continue to live in free and prosperous societies; free and prosperous for everyone, muslim, christian, hindu or atheist.

Exploring the new Europe – Chapter 9: Asia in Europe

Note: pictures coming up later /KLK 

After a quiet beachday in Constanta were we camped and lit the grill for the first time, we headed south towards Bulgaria along the scenic Black Sea road. We stayed in an amazingly town in Bulgaria, Sozopol, with a little cobblestoned townsquare, good seafood and open-air bars and clubs.

Next morning we sat out for the peak of the trip, Istanbul, Asia in Europe. The road between Bulgaria takes you high up in woody mountains on a very scenic road. The bordercrossing caused us absolutely no problems. One of the border officials asked for a hike to the next city, where he apparently worked in a large newly built mall. He bought us some coffee, introduced us to his dad and his extraordinary hot sister (they both worked at the mall as well). We quickly got a taste for Turkey.

We tried to withdraw money from an ATM at the mall, but for some reasons it didn’t accept our cards. Well, Istanbul wasn’t far. Soon after leaving the mall we got on the smooth new motorway to Instanbul and the kilometres dissapeared fast before the windscreen, and all of a sudden our road tax was due. I handed over the ticket along with my visa-card, only to receive an apologetic shrug from the guy in the boot – no credit cards. Much worse. Our small stash of ukrainian hryvnias and romanian leis surely wasn’t of any help. I got the Sierra back and accross multiple lanes to a small parking lot by the motorway. We were in the outer suburbs of Istanbul, there got to be an ATM somewhere in the neighbourhood.

Troels went out on the mission while I stayed by the car. It didn’t look like the place you were supposed to park your car, more like a place for the police to inspect lorries and the like. The last we needed right now was to have are car pulled away.

Half an hour went by and I started wondering what was going on. After 45 mins I called Troels’ cell just to find out it was in the car. After 1.5 hours I decided to venture out and look for him. To be perfectly honest I was more bored than worried, and very annoyed that I didn’t have any clue when he’d be back. I walked around the neighbourhood for a short while. It had a distinct different atmosphere than the european cities we’d visited so far. Not exactly arabian, but definetely with a strong scent of the east. It didn’t really seem realistic to find Troels by just walking around so I went back to the car and waited for another hour. Now he’d been gone for over two hours, and as little as I like to admit it, I started getting a little worried. What could I actually do if he didn’t return soon? It was getting late in the afternoon, and it wouldn’t be wise to get stuck after dark with no money. Maybe I should go and get some cash, surely it couldn’t take over two hours, so I could enter the city. But then again, what if he returned and I was gone with car keys? And how would we meet up later on when his phone was in the car?

I realized that we’d been way too thoughtless at this point. We were in Istanbul, so it wasn’t that big a deal, but if we wanted to drive through more dodgy places on future trips we simply needed to be more cautious. It annoyed me quite a lot. After all our troubles in Transnistria, which I thought we handled quite well, we’d made a stupid beginners mistake by simply being way to careless. I decided to go out and get cash, just in case eitherway, and left a note in the windscreen for Troels. Just down the road I met him though, with cash. Apparently ATMs hadn’t been that abundant in this part of town and a power blackdown had further complicated the venture. Fortunately the famous turkish hospitality had lived up to it’s reputation, and a guy had driven Troels around to his friends cell-phone shops, where, over cups of tea, they had tried to withdraw cash on the creditcard-terminal, when unsuccesful, they’d driven to a new part of town where they’d finally gotten round a proper ATM and Troels had been able to withdraw some cash. The most amazing thing? The guy refused to receive any payment for his help.

We entered Istanbul, and within minutes we were crossing the Bosporus. We’d made it! Welcome to Asia!

Exploring the new Europe – Chapter 8: Sunshine Reggae in Odessa

When we woke up next morning at “Hotel Passage” in Odessa, I had a distinct feeling of accomplishment. In 24 hours we’d made it across Europes’ poorest country, Moldavia, then possibly Europes most crooked region, Transnistria, and, finally, dealt with one of the most stubborn kafkian border officials. And here we were, in Odessa, in my opinion one of the shining stars of Eastern Europe.

The sun was shining from a blue sky and we treated ourselves to some sunglasses at the huge market before enjoying a drink at the beach promenade, life is in deed sweet in Odessa.

In the afternoon we hit the road again heading for Romania. It was hard to tell from the map, but it definetely looked like we had to cross through Moldavia again. But first we had a good long drive through the amazing Dniestr delta, amazing mostly because of it’s desertedness and incredibly long distances, something you wouldn’t guess from a look at the map. Closing in on the border area we consulted some locals about the prospect of avoiding Moldavia on the way to Romania (an idea that pleased the ethnic russians living in this area), we chose to take a chance and turn away from the main road and follow a hybrid between a very small road and a dirt track. Underway we got more directions from an old couple we met in the middle of nowhere, travelling on foot back from a church visit.

The view from road was really worth it all, even though eventually the track took us back to the main road again and thus to the moldavian border. The border crossing went better than expected, and only around an hour later we entered Romania. The female romanian official didn’t really know what to tell us (she probably felt obliged to do something other than just wave us through, after the relative thorough inspection the moldavians did), she merely looked at our passports and said: “Have a safe ride and well.. be carefull” (yes, she did speak english), clearer skies was ahead it seemed.

We drove a while to the city of Braîla where we found a hotel, the city itself wasn’t much of an attraction, you’re usual soviet-era industrial community. But next day we’d only have a short ride to Constanta before hitting the waves, so really we didn’t mind hitting the hay early.