Illogic: the quality or state of being illogical: Illogicality
We can all be illogical sometimes, in fact, I’d say that it was our particular gift as humans, to bring a sense of the peculiar, of the subjective to our experiences and many would argue that, thusly perceived, illogicality is the natural state of humanity rather than its diametrically opposed counter, logicality.
Who doesn’t love to take a stand and tell somebody no and just immerse yourself in that immediate gratification of solidity, of positional irrationality that comes from a steady obstinence and willingness to broach any societal nicety, just for the sheer, sensual pleasure of being right? Even if you’re wrong? Of anger,and the rushing adrenelin of an innately confused mental state within which all perceptions are stained a bloody and scintillating crimson, our bodies and minds trembling and vibrating with the sheer force of impassioned kundalini risen upon command and applied toward the total negation of all conscious thought.
It’s so wonderful to let go, to feel the power as anger rises and overtakes, so much so that it acts like a drug in our systems. Lifetimes of acting on anger produce automatic responses after certain ages. Changing those responses becomes changing one’s total Self for those who see themselves as thier personality complexes, which I define as the totality of our social selves, the person other’s meet and friends and family love, although the closest of these see beyond the social veneer to our true selves, which is that person we’ve always been in the quietest of moments, as well as the person we are striving to be, whom, in many cases, those who love us can see clearer than we can ourselves.
Illogic allows us to be God-like, our word becomes the law, any challenge to which gives rise to the righteous anger of the divinely-inspired. Illogic can also be related to a mythopoeic mindstate, wherein the world is a magical place, gods and goddesses exist, and magic makes women mad and men fall in love without recourse. Logic, again as the inverse, implies the non-existence of differentiation, of a steady-state creation of Oneness, where purity and stability reign.
Of course, we know that both are true to the extent that Creation is inclusive of All, holism the law and rule, the Beginning and the End. In the Lower Worlds, within which we toil and live our lives, duality is the expression of Oneness, rationality must coexist with irrationality, both complimentary, one could not exist without the other. In the Higher Worlds, it is clear that these expressions are complimentary. THe preceding is stated consciously, with the recognition that all Worlds exist Here and Now, simultaneously and coterminously and, as is always the case, As Above, So Below. In personal relationships, they say that opposites attract. But does this also mean that they meet, that they are meant to interact as well? On a personal level, does this mean that a woman of peace and love is supposed to love and live with a man of anger and hate?
Here’s the personal vignette for this topic:
When I was much younger, I was a good boy. In the third grade, when we lived in Crete, Greece, I joined the Cub Scouts upon the insistence of my father. My first camping trip was there, and I can still recall the visceral experience of camping in what passed for forests on Crete, which included piney stands of intense sensuality, the smell of which comes to me now, in this insistence and sheer, wondrous intensity.
From there, to Del City, Oklahoma, achieving the Arrow of Light, entering Webelos and then, joyously, Boy Scouts and the summer between sixth and seventh grade. The troop was all white, except for me, but, through my first real experience of political intrigue, I somehow wrangled the position of Senior Patrol Leader from what I now recognize as a natural intrest group formed by two close friends and their extended network of sycophants and hangers-on, giving me the votes needed as a reciprocal payment for appointing one friend as Quartermaster because he, apparently, liked the sound of it.
I often mention racism in these stories because it has been an integral part of my experience in life, in America, and has formed the backdrop for many of my most important life-lessons. This story is no different.
The older kids, scouts, one in particular, would often tell nigger jokes, or make snide comments around me. But this was Del City, Oklahoma, one of the Tri-City region which included Oklahoma City, Midwest City and Del City. Oklahoma City, at that time (late-70s), was where the black population was concentrated, although black folks lived througout the entire tri-city region in relatively large numbers. So, the neighborhood where I lived had its share of bigots. People who would rush outside when I’d walk on their grass, or who would let their kids play with me, but who wouldn’t let me swim in their pools, or come into their houses.
At that age, it’s life, and I reflected this by becoming very inwardly focused, reading a lot and dealing with events as they came to me, with a seriousness, early maturity and a sense of morosity that must have contributed to the spiritual awakening that I experienced during this stage of my life, which I’ve spoken on in other blog entries.
But anyway, Tommy Pierce (yes, that’s his real name) was my age; brown hair, pale skin, normal size for a sixth grader. He was brash, spoke before he thought, but not really the worst kind of guy. We didn’t really like each other, but we respected each other. On this particular camping trip, we were placed together in a tent, along with two other kids.
One night, we all went to sleep, each of us correspondingly lying on one of the four sides of the tent, with the middle, an area of about 5 square feet, left open, holding our jackets, packs and other sundry items. Around two or three in the morning, I was awakened by Tommy, screaming at me. I remember looking at him, his face swollen by sleep and ugly with anger, yelling at me, telling me that I had stolen his spot. That I had, somehow, moved him while he was sleeping, and taken his postion in the tent.
No matter what I, or the other two scouts, who had of course also awakened and were sitting up staring at this boy, said, he refused to budge from his conviction that I had engaged in some sort of evil plot to move him and take his side of the tent. I don’t remember the other boys names, but after Tommy started in calling me nigger this and nigger that the looks of embarassment and shame that they felt at his behavior permeated our small tent and, eventually, Tommy’s bellicose behavior subsided, although he never did come around to admitting that he was on the same side of the tent when he awoke as he had been when he’d fallen asleep, the evening before.
I have faint memories of one of the boys apologizing to me the next day or something, but Tommy never did, of course. Never admitted he was wrong, in fact, I dont remember if he ever brought it up again, although I know that it became one of the stories told through the troop, known as the night that Tommy went crazy.
Tommy and I never did get along after that, and we did come to fisticuffs once, a contest that was quickly broken up by other scouts. But Tommy’s illogic never left me, and I’ve seen many examples of it since, and have engaged upon similar courses of action myself for different reasons, I suppose, although in the end, none of them are really meaningful outside of my own subjective take upon reality.
I quit Boy Scouts when we moved to Scott Air Force Base, outside of Bellville, Illinois. I went through Tenderfoot, Second Class, First Class and Star, ending up earning a Life Scouting badge, which is one below Eagle Scout. This was an expression of Illogicality on my part, quitting because I’d been ‘traded’ between troops during a sickness, giving up an entire youth’s commitment because of a feeling of betrayal by scouts that I really didn’t have much of a personal relationship with anyway. If it can be called this, I suppose it is one regret that I have in life, not finishing the entire Scouting program and reaching the highly vaunted rank of Eagle Scout.
There is a certain zen calm that is reached at the highest state of Illogicality. A feeling of self-righteousness and egocentricity that can fool a person into thinking that he or she is actually evidencing an abstract spiritual state, or give them cause to believe that they have, somehow, transcended the complex of emotional instability that all humans experience, and have reached a higher plateau of consciousness, when, in fact, what they’ve done is barricaded themselves within the finite torus of intellectual posturing gifded by kundalini mis-applied, which is one of the greatest traps that any spiritual aspirant could fall prey to.
Let me tell you what it feels like, when you’ve gone down the wrong path. A knot, right behind the center of your chest. A knot that feels like it can’t be unbound, ever. It is a tension that struggles against the boundary of the body. It feels like you can’t catch your breath, even if you can breath in and out fully, it doesn’t feel like enough, like you need more air, a bigger chest, something, bigger, in order to release that knot, let it out, open your chest, your heart to the universe to receive, something, something larger, outside of yourself within, to replace that little, angry, misanthropic knot that is bound so tightly, conscious of your every attempt to untangle it, and craftily aware of your every move to root it out from the core of your very Self.
The bible speaks of the hardened heart, and the point at which compassion and love become foreign to certain people who cultivate Illogicality and its corresponding effect of egocentricity. That book also states that once the heart achieves this state, it can’t be changed. But that we have infinite chances to release it all to God, through the medium of Jesus the Christ. Divine grace is our birthright, on this point, almost all religions agree. The contemplation of Eternity through the lense of Life is, as stated in 1st Corinthians 13:12:
“For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”
Illogicality works against charity. It prosyletizes the judgement of the One over compassion for the Other. While, on the face of it, selfishness seems to jibe with some Darwin-ish view of Life as a game of ‘Survival of the Fittest’, the highest human qualities are those which separate us from the animals, and which speak to the capacity of humanity to rise above our lower natures and seek out the high ground, where compassion and charity live.
My own illogicality is often followed quickly by remorse and apologetics. If any of y’all reading recognize any of this in yourself, I reach out to you with compassion and understanding, and universal love. Only recognition and the commitment to consciously working against Illogicality can change a lifetime of response-patterns. But we have to do it, if we’re ever going to be the people we were born to be, which can only be done if we release that knot, give in to something Greater, and share the love, rather than holding it, jealously, inside, where it can only fester and die, taking us, struggling, along with it.