The Lesser Of Two Evils Is Still Evil

There is an adage that says that when given a choice between two evil options, we should pick "the lesser of two evils." This phrase addresses some interesting concepts. The first is that there are degrees of evil. Stealing candy from a baby is evil. Stealing babies is more evil. 

The second thing is that it teaches us the concept of pragmatism. In any given situation, it's nice to believe that there is a perfect answer that will make everything work out ideally, but the reality is that such an option rarely exists. Because of that, we have to make the best decision possible. And if no available decision is good, then we must make the least bad decision. 

The problem with the adage is that it totally neglects the obvious conclusion that the lesser of two evils is still evil. Choose to not vote. Break beyond the dichotomy. If you are given two evil options, pick neither of them. 

Elephant Tied To A Stake - The Context Of History

As I pondered the story of the elephant tied to a stake, I realized that there was more that this story had to teach. The man who walked up to the scene saw a full grown elephant that was choosing not to escape its feeble prison. But the man who owned the circus saw an elephant that he had subjugated and mentally dominated years ago. The difference between the two is that the first man had no context of history. 

Life is the way it is now because of how things used to be. Every person has a history. So does every relationship, every building, every metaphysical concept. You cannot simply look at a given scene or person and understand what is going on or what people are thinking unless you know all of their contexts. Otherwise, you can make incredibly logical, yet utterly wrong assumptions. 

As a writer, this is why it is crucial to give your audience the proper context of a situation before you elaborate on it. Otherwise, you will leave people scratching their heads the whole while through. 

Elephant Tied To A Stake - The Illusion Of Control

There is a story about an elephant in a circus. The owner didn't keep the elephant in a cage, but instead put a shackle on one of its legs and chained it to a stake in the ground. Anybody who would look at this scene would be baffled. A full grown elephant could easily rip that stake out of the ground if it wanted to, so why does it obediently stay in place? The answer is that the elephant had been chained to that stake since it was a baby, back when it was too weak to fight it. Over the years it had given up trying; the stake is indomitable. So even though the elephant had grown up, the mind had already accepted the stake and never bothered resisting anymore. 

As a person, it is easy to see when other people change, but it is hard to see when we change. It is a cultural norm that "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results." And to some degree, it's true. But if you are unaware of when circumstances change, then by not trying the same thing, you can miss out on viable options. 

This story greatly explains the illusion of control. We easily forget how much power we really have. More often than not, a person's problems are ones they allow themselves to have. People get caught up in some illusory power they think controls them, and they don't let themselves pick the easiest ways to solve their problems. [I would say that the #1 reason people don't choose the easy answer is the fear/risk of personal embarrassment.]

When you find yourself (or your characters) stuck on something, seriously ask yourself what is stopping you? Like, in the most literal sense, what is physically stopping you from doing what you want? It may be something very real, like the risk of police tackling you to the ground with guns pointed at your head. But it may be the kind of thing that the only resistance would be somebody getting chaffed and barking at you. In that case, though, they aren't physically stopping you; you are choosing to not do something because of a mental hangup. Do not let the illusion of control own you. 

"I Sat Here One Day For Seven Days"

A friend of mine started a story by saying, "I sat here one day for seven days." It really struck me as an interesting turn of phrase. At its face, it's a contradiction; you cannot fit seven days into a day. But as I pondered it, I saw how it challenged our notions and definitions of time. 

What is a day? Most people would tell you it's the 24-hour period from midnight to midnight. But we also think of it as any 24-hour period; if you were awake from 10 AM one day until 10 AM the next, then you would tell people that you were awake for a whole day. 

More than that, many people who stay up past midnight do not consider it to be the next day until they go to sleep and wake up. And this is where we return to the introduction.

If you don't consider a day to have ended until you went to sleep, but you also consider the day to be a 24-hour period of time, then you can, in fact, sit down one day for seven days. 

Resoultions Don't Need The New Year

When the new year rolls around, everybody wants to talk about resolutions. What are you going to do different this year? How are you going to make things better? My question is: why do you wait until the calendar rolls over to change your life?

I understand that it is a convenient impetus, but if you want to make a serious change, then just do it as soon as you have that thought. Instead of spending the month of August saying "I wish I would make the time to write more", simply say, "I resolve to make the time to write more." Then, you don't have to wait five months to actually start doing it.

I think that the key word I said above was "serious". New Year's resolutions always seem semi-serious to me. They're more like a dare. "Hey, I dare you to talk to a stranger every day." Either that, or maybe they come off as people trying to set a record. Most consecutive days not screaming at traffic. They always sound to me like people take their resolutions half seriously. They do it for the same reason they make a wish before blowing out their birthday candles.

If you're going to go to the effort of making a resolution, make a sincere one. Honestly work toward making a real and permanent change. They are hard, but the key to success is developing a habit. When it stops being an extra effort and simply becomes a part of your day like getting dressed and bathing, then it has truly succeeded.

The Commonness Of Profanity Empowers Language

Traditionally, profane words were ones that everybody knew, but nobody said. People were too polite to say such awful words, and as a result, they held tremendous power. Those who would dare to use a "4-letter word" created shock and awe amongst those that heard it. 

Nowadays, profanity is about as common as the word "the". Every day, you can hear people saying "I'm fucking hungry" and "I have assloads of shit to do." They are used as generic intensifiers and common placeholders. They have become amongst the tamest insults you can sling. 

The power of words is in their scarcity. The less common a word is, the more powerful it is. [The catch is that the listener needs to know what the word means, and the word has to be used correctly.] Because of this, language now favors colorful, descriptive terms to convey power.

The commonness of profanity empowers language. When people say "I'm fucking hungry" every single day, then it is more powerful to say "I'm famished." We live in a time where power doesn't come from seven words we're not supposed to say, but instead comes from the plethora of words aside from those seven, which also convey better meaning than simple profanities ever could (and that is awesome).

Anniversaries

On the day of the new year, I think about anniversaries. January 1st is the beginning of the year, but it is the anniversary of relatively little. It's not the birthday of anyone I know (and statistically no more than 2 of my regular readers are), not the day that I started any activity, not when I won any award. Absolutely nothing happened on January 1st except for the year changing.

Much as New Year's Day is a time of reflection and anticipation, anniversaries encourage us to think of what has happened since the last anniversary (or the original event), and to consider what will happen until the next one. A year is a long period of time; a lot can be done in such a span of time. 

What are your anniversaries, and what will you have accomplished by then?