Paradox

***PARADOX: Bad people do good things***

If any of you are like me, you've heard words to this effect in the past. Or at least, heard statements that, when added together, form this conclusion.

But if you are like me, then you probably haven't thought about it too much. Well, I didn't, until the past couple of days.

So here's the thing: Us humans love categorizing each other.

Us and Them
Normal and Different
Introvert and Extrovert


Well, you get the idea. We classify each other. And one of the most time-honored labels is the moral label: Good People vs. Bad People.

We see it all the way into the dawn of history - the people we like are "good," the people we don't are "bad." And with the bad ones, we have nothing in common. Nothing they do are things we approve of.

Now, I'm all for a black and white view of morality: Some actions are inherently good, some actions are inherently evil. But things get a little grey when we get to classifying people as "good" and "evil."  It's the human element.

See, I believe that people are inherently bad. If given a choice of admitting you broke the lamp or denying all knowledge of the lamp's existence, a person in their natural, non-religious, non-moral state will deny the lamp's very existence.

We're all bad. Even Ghandi. Even Mother Theresa. Especially Barack Obama.

*ahem* This is Problematic's editor. The political opinions expressed in this blog post are the sole opinions of Problematic's, not the publishing staff. This includes but is not limited to the fingers, the keyboard, the eyes, and lastly, the editor.

Like I said. Every single person on this earth is naturally going to choose to do the wrong thing. This is where it gets interesting. See, humans don't exist alone without any sort of morality. Look around your world. Churchs, synagogues, mosques, kingdom halls, meditation centers - they all jostle for position in the minds of the pious.

Humans are moral creatures. With the exception of a few atheists who don't believe in them (but still act on them), we can see those inherent morals. What are they? As a Christian, I believe God gave me and you a conscience, to remind us of what is right and what is wrong. But we can argue about that later.

The point is, religions have sprouted throughout the world, teaching of right thought, of right living as they go. And with religion comes the distinctions.

Us and Them
Enlightened and Pagan
Right and Wrong
Good and Bad

Anyone who thinks differently than me is automatically branded with those labels: Different, Pagan, Wrong, Bad - specific words don't matter but the sentiment that remains is the same. He's not One Of Us. Because someone who is One Of Us is good. They think like us, they believe like us.

But that doesn't make us More Good. We're all such awful, stinking, disgusting, slimy, gross, disturbing examples of humanity that a little religion isn't going to do anything about it.

Even Christians. Our "religion" won't save us. Just because we don't drink alcohol or date or chew tobacco or follow any of the legalistic trappings the church has put on us as a prerequisite for knowing God doesn't make us more holy, more justified, More Good than anyone else. We're all in for it, and being a Lutheran or a Seventh-Day Adventist won't save you.

So how does this fit in with the paradox?

***PARADOX: Bad people do good things***

Let's take an example. Say, one of the terrorists who helped fly a plane into the World Trade Centers on 11 September, 2001. (Yes, yes, terribly American-centric, but tough. I live in America.)

Now, what he did was wrong, evil. Taking the lives of almost 3,000 people is completely evil. And the man himself, he was evil.

Just like me. Just like you.

But that doesn't mean every action he took was evil. His family - he may have loved them dearly. He gave alms to the poor. He did good things, but his final act was an act of evil. This is an extreme example, I know. But it applies to many, many more people than we feel comfortable admitting.

And this is where things get sticky. These labels that we arbitrarily stick on others, they don't like shades of grey. Either you're one of Us, or you're one of Them. With us or Against us.

But as beings with great capacity for evil, we also have capacity for good. We have shades of grey.

***PARADOX: Bad people do good things.***

You will not live a perfect life. You'll never even come close. One good action may not make you a good person, but it is good, it is right, it is noble, honorable, self-sacrificial, nonetheless.

Think on that one for a while.
B

Jar of Hearts

It's high time I started doing these again. They're enjoyable for me: I do not know, nor care if my beloved readers could care less.

Let me introduce you to this song called Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. The lovely Grey and delightful Ophelia introduced me to this song last week, and I have highly enjoyed it. Although, I have a confession to make: when I first heard that song, I immediately thought of one of my friends who is a guy. My second thought was "Problematic, don't be so uncharitable."

I really enjoy this song because of the resolve evident in the lyrics. In a lot of songs about failed romance, the lyrics are sappy, come to no conclusion, and waffle about the singer's love like a girl picking petals off of a daisy. Not so with Jar of Hearts. The speaker concludes "so don't come back for me. Don't come back at all" without sounding mad or extremely grumpy. It's resolved.

The second, greater reason I like this song is because the lyrics are superbly written. I won't spoil it for you, but the images and ideas that Perri conjures up in just a few words are brilliant.  If I could be half of a songwriter as she, I would count myself lucky.

Ladies and Gents, without further ado:

Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri

No I can’t take one more step towards you
Cause all that’s waiting is regret
And don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore
You lost the love I loved the most

I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are

I hear you're asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms

I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are

And it took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I would have missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises
And now you're back
You don’t get to get me back

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all

And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all

Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are

In Which Problematic Rambles On and On

Well, that's it, folks. School has officially started as of yesterday.  I was wandering around the halls of Coop B, looking for my mates, only to have the realization hit home that they were all at college.

***Important Definition***
"Mates" = close friends, those with whom you can simply exist. No pretense, no masquerade. Just existence.

Now, I know plenty of people there. I know names, I could probably list faces, but they're no one I'm terribly comfortable around. Joining a conversation is awkward: it's filled with jokes I don't get, or silence that continues until I leave. These acquaintances are quite free with their hugs and physical signs of affection, but skin deep is all they ever get. The masquerade continues. 

Yesterday, I felt the need to talk to someone, but no mates presented themselves. I can see an awful lot of people with potential to be mates, but they're still quite distant. They're barely in town, let alone the keep. Some of them even have shrugged me off. Now, don't think this I've got a "poor me" attitude.

I've come to an unfortunate conclusion. Not merely based on yesterday's disappointment, not based merely on my dislike of Coop B. Rather, this particular conclusion has been ruminating for a while.

The conclusion: I can never be as important to other people as they are to me. Maybe I'm clutching them too tightly, but mates make such a difference to me, I cannot fully explain it. I savor every moment when
I'm with them. And they've all moved on.

This conclusion is a not something I've really wanted to accept for a while. I reject your reality and substitute my own.

Except it doesn't work that way. It's painful. Not sharp, just aching. And it's made worse by seeing my close acquaintances completely oblivious. Granted, the oblivion is just another piece in my self-made cage, but the cage is harder to break than you'd think. ... Though, the fact that I'm writing this now is a sign that there are some weaknesses.

It's the oblivion that aches like a puzzle without a piece. And try though I may, nothing I can say or do will change that. Believe me, I've tried. But this isolation, this loneliness, this emptiness is not going away anytime in the forseeable future.

How can I know so much about them, but they know so little about me? I can even fake bad moods to keep them on the wrong track.

I've considered the unthinkable - telling some of these not-strangers what probably counts as my most secret secret. All for the sake of a few mates. But I know how the strangers would react: and so I'm left nursing my secret and my achy heart. I can hear you now: Oh, your poor, bleeding heart! But it's not melodrama, not this time.

So what are you going to do? Well, I go back to staring at happy people through the Plexiglass of my self-made cage, and wait for the air to run out, I guess. The glass is thinner than it used to be, but not enough. Not air, not light, not words, not love can get through.

B

Openness Review

So there you have it. 40 of my secrets are now published on the web for the world to view. If they even notice. It leads me to wonder if I shouldn't call them something other than "secret."

Anyways, we've seen that I'm pretty insecure about friends, and that I have some weird quirks and habits. Normally scheduled Music Mondays will restart next week.

Secret 40

You can usually find me in the shadow of other people's spotlights.