Truth is On the Horizon

Okay so I was dwelling on something I randomly said for a status update on Facebook. "Truth is on the horizon." It sounded cool so I kept saying it in my head. Then  I applied it to statism. Then to philosophy and truth. I looked up at the sky and apparently it should be a waxing moon. I couldn't find the moon in the sky. I could see a few stars here and there, but most stars were blotted out by the numerous lights I saw on my way to the gas station. I thought perhaps it was a new moon. I found out that it wasn't after I got home. I am disturbed by the fact that I couldn't see the moon, as, while entirely possible, it's very unlikely that the ONE night I try to see the moon, it happens to be in a spot on the horizon that I can't see it on that stretch of sidewalk on my way to the gas station. Moving on.

I looked at all the lights. They are all concepts that are mimicking the natural light of the moon and stars, only in great concentration with shorter range. And that is what they mimic. The moon. The stars. But these are brighter, when in front of us, and they are constant. We know that when we go to the gas station, the lights will be on. The traffic lights. They guide us. When it's green, we go, when it's red, we don't go, and when it's yellow we slow down so as to not be in violation of the all-powerful red light, for doing so could possibly result in repercussions by police. Or simply out of principle. But the fact remains that going through the red light, in the middle of the night with no other cars around, will yield no negative results as long as someone who isn't afraid to hurt you doesn't see it. To those of us traveling at that hour, it makes no sense, it's a formality. Interesting.

The streetlights are man's construction to guide us on sidewalks, also man's construction. I leave the streets, I have no guide but myself. I looked at the stars again. If you look at them hard enough, you can read them. One said "Murder is wrong". Another said, "So is stealing." And everyone can read these things, we live by them, there's no denying it.

On one night, we look up and see the moon at full strength. Some days it's only halfway there, and other nights it's nowhere to be seen (or just outside of our view, say, on the other side of a mountain). But we all know it's there. Why, then, does it always change? Why is it not constant? Why do we argue over why the moon is the way it is or predict how it will be in the future? Why? It's because we know the moon, but only by what we see. The moon is insignificant. It lies. It only provides us a reflection of what what is true at the best of times, and at others it is downright false. We take its lies and try them every which way until we're exhausted, still fighting, wondering why the evil never ends in this dark world. But it's okay. We don't have to worry about it much longer. Soon, everything we look for in lightbulbs and heavenly bodies will cease to have use.

Truth is on the horizon.

The First Post

There are a lot of hard truths in reality. We will face dozens or hundreds of them in our lives. I want to take just a moment to touch on a subject of importance to me before I move on. One hard truth that I've come to realize is that I was emotionally neglected as a child. This is no surprise, for I was a boy. Nearly every single household around the world that has boys follows cultural norms for raising children where emotional neglect for their boys isn't even registered as abnormal, mostly because it is in fact normal. Why? Well, how else are we going to develop into big, strong alpha males? Because of this mentality, men end up unable to show most of their emotions, or rather express them the way women can. It's not because women are any better at it then men are by nature, but girls are given emotional support as children that boys do not have. If you want to know more, you can research it yourself, I would suggest starting with Stefan Molyneux's videos on it. My parents didn't mean it, they were totally unaware, had they known I'm sure they would have bawled their eyes out and apologized and done everything they could think of to somehow make it 'alright'. I don't think very many people know or care at this point though.

This is the reason I started this blog. For months now I have been aware of this and I am slowly teaching myself how to express. I have tried a few different methods. I've tried writing in a journal. Didn't really work for me because that's not a form of communication to people. I make music, and people tell me that that's a form of expression, but not to me. Sadly I lack the talent of an artist, so I haven't even the SLIGHTEST idea how to put anything that resembles soul or emotion into music, I just throw together something that sounds cool in FL Studio and put it up online for people to ignore. After a half dozen attempts at picking up things I was no good at and didn't understand for expression, I just kinda...stopped. Until now. A good friend of mine started a blog a few months ago, and that got me thinking about it. She, along with others in my life, tell me I'm good with words. I don't think I'm any better, but I definitely know my way around language. So I want to try this out. I want to see if I can take my inner thoughts and feelings and put it out in a way that helps me appropriately express the things that I have difficulty expressing. Whether anyone will be interested, I don't know or care, really. But there's always a chance. So after this brief little introduction, I'd like to start off this possible train wreck with a little something that I don't think I've ever shared with anyone.

When I was in high school, I stood up and put my hand over my heart and recited the Pledge every single day. When I was a Junior, I stopped, because I would take a bus to a different school for their Academy program, and the bus ride happened during the Pledge. So no Pledge. But in my Senior year, I was in the JROTC in the Academy program. And we did the Pledge every day. Some days I was in uniform and I would salute the flag. A good little patriot. Now I flash forward to last year. I was in the Army ROTC over at Virginia Military Institute, and I'd go there once a week for the Military Science class I had to take. I would dress up in my costume and go there to learn. I remember I had a fellow SVU cadet take a picture of me holding an M240B, a 7.62 caliber light machine gun. It weighs 29 pounds unloaded, similar cleaning method to the 249 Squad Automatic Weapon, and I felt so badass holding it. This is that picture.

Now I think back to those times. And I am just so disgusted with myself. It horrifies me to know that I was so close to becoming a dog of the State (bonus points if you know where that phrase comes from). That I worshiped the United States like everyone else does. That I called for the blood of people I didn't even know for committing acts that I didn't fully understand. That I was willing to kill people because of some misplaced sense of 'justice'. Or patriotism. It's hard to tell the difference when you're a statist.

But I will never forget these things, as much as I would like to. I can't afford to forget. They serve as a reminder, concrete and unchanging, that I was just as blind, just as evil, just as immoral as the people whose ideas I now fight against. It's humbling. When I spoke out against others before, I had no idea what it was like to be them, I had only ever lived with one viewpoint. But now that I have had two viewpoints that are so opposite, I can see everything in between with near-perfect clarity, and I can use the knowledge I have gained to see the truth and falsehood in every stance. I don't have to resort to ad hominem attacks when I can't prove my point, I can accept truth when I hear it. But most importantly, I can sympathize. Empathize. I know what it means to be shown that everything you once held dear is evil, or immoral, or both. I know what it means to have to throw out most of what made you who you are in order to be something better. Before I always asked myself if I would be a good soldier, a good patriot, a good citizen. Now I ask myself 'Am I a good man?' And I can look back and definitely say "Yes". I know that I am a good man. I know this because I try at all times to embody kindness and empathy instead of statism and patriotism. I know that I never harm anyone else or their property. I know that I would never advocate such action. I understand morality from a logical perspective and I let that be my guide.

Philosophy used to be repugnant to me. I thought it was just what people did when they wanted to sound edgy. "But what if the spirit is not actually metaphysical, but made of bananas!?" <--- That is what I thought modern philosophers do. But now I know better, and I accept philosophy as a means of looking at the world and finding truth. I've integrated it into my life, my mind. It's a part of me now. But there is a huge dark side to philosophy that I was totally unprepared for. Truth hurts. It brings me all kinds of pain to look around without the blindfolds forced on me in my childhood and into my young adult life. The pain of other people at the hands of forces that nobody considers evil is painful to me. Agonizing, sometimes. I look and I see and I speak out, and everyone, including my own family, tells me that I'm crazy for daring to question things that are so consistently held as truth. And that makes me feel somewhat isolated. But it will be okay, because most of the people I know will let it be after a discussion, they don't let it affect our friendship, and I'm grateful for that.

All things considered, I think I'll be okay.