How to Love Forever

There is a traditional view of love that perhaps nearly everyone is familiar with: namely, the love of a particular. We love particular people, particular places, and particular foods. We invest wholeheartedly into those particulars which have won, through thick and thin, our affections. This way of love has a wide range of wondrous benefits, all of which we are most apt to ramble on about; since we are all the experts on this type of love. However, there is an inevitable depression for those who love particulars, and this depression stems from the traditional view of love.

To be Happy: the present (essay 2 of 3)

There is an infamous saying amongst westerners, a saying which is practiced far less than it is uttered: namely, short-term pain, long-term gain. This phrase is very much similar to notions that regard the future as possessing happiness; that is, one acquires reward in some near or distant future by enduring periods of pain: suffer now and then receive the bounty of thy suffering later.

To be Happy: the future (1 of 3)

Let us consider the cons, the risks, that are associated with the intuitive conception of happiness, especially those that are never explicitly declared. These risks roam the most unconscious parts of our mind, and it is up to each of us to light a path throughout our own unconscious, a path which illuminates and makes visible those pernicious unconscious risks. In doing so, we will bravely face the demons that, beyond all doubt, will tempt us to return to surface awareness and extinguish any semblance of light that we had shed onto the deeper reality of intuitive happiness. The acceptance of the potential to fail, the acceptance of the inevitable, and the shattering of delusions are all instances of such demons; these are things that the ignorant are ignorant of, and for good reason.

Hitchens and Conformity: a student’s perspective on Academia

As someone who has spent nearly every day for the last 16 years reading academic literature (from 8 to 24), the advice found in Christopher Hitchens’ “letters to a young contrarian” is invaluable. Without his advice, my future in academia would have ended much sooner. Indeed, I would have dropped out long ago, and for good reason. The mountain of a library that I have gathered over the years has offered me insights and knowledge which allows me, with confidence, to spot errors in reasoning that most people fail to notice, and this has done my social and academic life no favors. In addition, my enthusiasm for academic literature lead to me reading a number of books across many disciplines, and so interdisciplinary and creative thought is a cornerstone of my thought process. Inside an institution centered around standardization, my creative propensity has been the life source of my frustration.