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Apocalypse

Chreia

It was raining, and we were outside the Eisenhower auditorium, waiting to get inside.  The guest speaker was Elie Weasel, author of Night and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize.  I was the only one of my friends going see him, but I was in the company of many others who would appreciate his words more than most of my friends, so as far as I was concerned, I was among friends.  We entered the auditorium and had a seat, mumbling, murmuring, and musing about what was about to happen.  On the stage was a small wooden desk with a small wooden chair.  Soon, there was a small white-haired man in between the two, facing the thousand people.  There was now not a word, not a breath, not a sound, yet communication between us and him was as real and tangible as the fact that we were all there.  The air we breathed tightened in our chests and we waited.  He waited.  Then began.  He spoke of his time in Auschwitz and how he watched as everyone he knew died around him.  His father was killed right in front of his eyes by Nazi soldiers during an escape, yet he was so paralyzed, so numb to the brutal violence of the time that Mr. Weasel said he was not able to even shed one tear.  But despite all of this, despite the terror and hatred and violence, he said he did not blame the Nazis in general, or even the particular men who killed his family.  He said he did not hate at all.  To face pure evil in the face and walk away caused him to understand that the only way to defeat hatred is not through hatred.  Do not fight fire with fire.  It is through understanding and love that we prosper.  And the story came to its didactic climax.  He paused for a minute.  I could hear girls sobbing nearby, and even I was choked up by it all.  We sat and we felt the love beaming from this small old man.  As sure as we were all there, we felt it.  He had enough love for all of us.  And he said, "Take information and turn it into knowledge. Take knowledge and turn it into sensitivity. Take sensitivity and turn it into commitment...And whatever you choose to do in life, whatever experiment you decide to undertake, always remember this: think higher and feel deeper.”  Though simple, these last words made that little old man into an iron statue for me, everlasting and towering, forcing my mind and heart into positions I’m not sure I could do on my own. 

The O'Possum and the Lion

Ovi O’Possum was born afraid.  Since his father was eaten by a fearsome mountain lion when Ovi was very young, he did nothing but fear that something would come along and gobble him up too, or take him away into the deep dark forest somewhere, never to be seen again. That particular lion was known as the most feared of all the predators because he was the sneakiest and most cunning of all.  So, since Ovi knew that mountain lions don’t like to eat something that has already died, he practiced all day, everyday on playing dead.  He would wake up in the morning and lay himself down in the field, making sure he never moved a muscle, never making a sound.  Even when he was young, he was so good at faking his own death that his mother cried at least once a week thinking she had lost her only son.  He continued to practice everyday, neglecting his mother and friends, just so he could lie in the field as still and quiet as possible.  He grew older, into the prime of his life, and was by far the best death-faker around, but his mother had died of old age and his friends had left him some time ago, and he was alone.  Then, the other possums started to be picked off, one by one, and taken away into the forest by the same fearsome mountain lion that had come that way many years before, the same one which had eaten Ovi’s father.  And Ovi grew scared again, but knew that he could outwit the lion by doing what he did best- playing dead.  Then one day, the mountain lion happen upon Ovi when Ovi least expected it, but the lion did not eat him, he just looked at him and passed by.  Ovi was extremely thankful but surprised.  Why hadn’t the hungry lion eaten him?  He wasn’t even playing dead.  The next day, two more possums were taken away into the forest and never seen again.  Ovi grew nervous because he knew that eventually the mountain lion, who was the sneakiest, most cunning mountain lion around, would come for him, and if he wasn’t careful, would surely eat him as well.  A week passed, and Ovi was now the only possum left.  He was terrified.  Surely he was next.  Then a month went by.  Then two months.  Then a year.  Still no lion.  Many years ended up passing before the mountain lion returned.  Ovi was still the only possum left because everyone else had been eaten and he had never found the time to have a family of his own.  Finally, he ran into the lion again, but again the lion did not eat him.  “Why don’t you eat me lion? I am the only possum left!” Ovi shouted, in an almost jealous rage.  The lion simply said, “It is because you are already dead, possum.  You were never alive to begin with.”  The lion walked away again, and Ovi was left on his own.  He died sometime later, still and quiet, alone in the field.  

TO THE MOST WONDERFUL IDIOT

The most wonderful parts of heaven are the bores of the earth, though those bores are only idiots and the near-sighted moles of mortality, seeing only their own eyelids.  They do not question or reject.  Perfect acceptance and harmony is beauty.  Everything that does not act on its own accord is perfect.  They are without fear and proceed with the bliss of ignorance, becoming part of the infinite beauty of balance.  They are quite literally without flaw because once we introduce will and determination, fault is inherently born, born from error of decision and indecision, passion and lies, from the myopia that blinds us from the very beauty that explodes around us.  The problem is we cannot see these explosions because we try to perceive them and cannot understand them.  But the greatest feature of beauty is that we do not need to understand it (for once unraveled does it not dim?), but that we need to understand something larger:  that beauty is extreme and fathomless; at its simplest, our minds bulge and burst; at its most complex we neglect to notice it at all because it is too much.  But if we know that beauty is limitless, we can forgo the fundamentals of its face, the basic principles of what it means for something to be beautiful, and fill with the feeling of its true function and our over-riding purpose for it:  hope.  Real beauty will never fail and will always be, and that may be the most beautiful thing of all.  It is tomorrow, it is God, it is love, it is dreams, it is all that hope has ever promised us and all we could ever need to feed our starving souls.  That is why the bore, the simpleton, the “idiot” is the greatest person in the world.  Though he may not provide directly to the progression of the world, he takes in beauty for what it is, eats it up, and lives on with it inside him.  Look past your lens and stare wide-eyed into everything, blankly and without prejudice.  Do not hold back and experience the world first-hand.  Explode.

INSPERIENCE

Recently, I discovered a new word: “insperience.” It’s a word that, as far as I can tell, is usually used as a marketing tool to describe a lifestyle that is more inwardly focused, toward individuality and “safety.”  It is used to get people to want new and improved equipment for themselves so that they do not have to share experience with others.  For example, this website (http://trendwatching.com/trends/insperience.htm ) pretty much sums up the entire idea with the following definition: "In a consumer society dominated by experiences in the (semi) public domain -- often branded, designed, themed and curated to the nines -- INSPERIENCES represent consumers' desire to bring top-level experiences into their domestic domain."  This so explicitly describes the 21^st century lifestyle.  Why go to the movies with the public when you can have the same quality theater experience in your basement?  It is this introversion that seems to have taken hold of our society which pervades all aspects of our lifestyle.  This is an incredible movement that is centered around people on their computers, alone, talking to others online. Insperience.  It is perpetuated by Netflix and delivery pizza.  Insperience.  This word and concept is so new and absolutely perfect for the 21^st century culture that I love it but cannot fully understand just how encompassing and influential it is on our day-to-day life.