There's a sense of endless mystery in every action that I take. I wonder what circumstances have led to me that point when I had to make a decision to act. During that crucial moment, a spectrum of choices in apparently innumerable variations stretches out before me and I'm expected to choose one amongst infinity. Sometimes I take my time in choosing which action to select, like choosing a bottle of wine that'll fit my tastes, or perhaps like selecting a pair of pants for not only their style, but also how easily it can be washed. Other times, I choose my actions temerariously, so in a combination of instinct and minute desire ---- though I don't know which comes first, or which is the stronger.
I fancy myself as a self-reflective sort of guy.
Considering that that's the type of guy that I fancy myself to be, isn't it expected, even appropriate that I think these events through? I wonder if there's been a survey, asking people passing on the street -- though I secretly think that those samples are skewed because it's most likely the same people walking on the same streets most of the time -- inquiring as to whether they believed being self-reflective was a positive or negative characteristic. The women I've met have always had mixed opinions about this characteristic of mine: a few thought it provided me with a comfortable air, while others thought it was a sort of contempt. Anyway, I'm not comfortable discussing this on the internet.
So I've dialectically broke down my free will into two types of actions:
1. deliberate actions
2. instinctual actions
Now there are two cardinal beliefs that I hold that constitute the whole of the matter:
A. I believe in tabula rasa, that all people are blank slates
B. The free will doesn't have any influence from external forces, viz. YHWH, God, etc.
C. We maintain a consistency that provides a definition of who we are. For instance, whether I'm here or anywhere else, I'll always be who I am. There are no environmental considerations when speaking about the immediate identity.
D. Cultural Relativism is held to be fact. I am an aggregation of all those factors that have contributed to my history, in other words, my identity is placed firmly in my history. I am a representative of all those states of my past.
By the way, if you haven't noticed by now, though I find it questionable whether anyone reads this anymore, it wouldn't be extraordinary for you to comment on how I have a long-winded way of writing.This is probably because analytical philosophy and translated verse was crammed down my throat as a kid. This is how I talk as well, but I like to throw in occasional ums and uhs to make it all seem more casual. I'll even throw in a like into the mix so I can fit in.
So, anyway, like, when my free will is confronted with the obligation to make a choice, since nonaction is an action, self-reflexively, it chooses one of those two paths: deliberate or instinctual. Tonight, for instance, I'm going to take a shower then have a glass of zinfandel. That's a deliberate choice. When I hop into the shower, however, it's a whole different scenario.
I think we all secretly relish our shower patterns. It defines us and gives us comfort. I don't have as much time as I'd like to take a long shower, but occasionally, I'll shower for an hour and go through each cleaning process meticulously. When I don't have the time for an hour shower, I let my deliberate free will deal with all the preparations, such as setting the water temperature and pressure, then my mind flicks on a switch that has me functioning instinctually.
Let me tell you, I'm an expert at taking a shower my way. My instinctual free will realizes that it's in shower-mode and like a mechanical set of procedures, my body goes into auto-pilot and approximately 30 to 40 minutes later, I'm clean and dry, sitting at my desk and at my deliberate free will's disposal.
I don't know how safe I would feel laying this down like law, or making some normative claims about my existence, but this is how I generally figure it to be.
So what do you think? I contemplate on these and all sorts of things all the time. Do you find it attractive? Repulsive? Do you think I'm pampered and spoiled rotten? Or maybe you want to have a conversation with me about shower patterns. I'd be happy to have that conversation.
Since I'm always caught somewhere between work and non-work, I can get pretty blue and lonely. So one day, after class and a few cigarettes (all instinctual free will, of course), I took it upon myself to go out and have some fun. I met a few acquaintances and we had drinks together - I haven't adjusted to the American style of drinking yet - and then we went out dancing. The joint was dark, grimy, and even a little slimy. The moment you enter the door, a powerful blast of hot air, humidity (from sweat), and the odor of beer splattered all over the floor overtakes you. In Korea, the clubs are at least ventilated and air conditioned. This was not the case.
Those conditions sobered me up rather quickly. A few moments later, I was my old self again, that self-contemplative self, instead of slightly inebriated and ready to have fun self. In other words, the instinctual free will was again placed in a secondary position to my deliberate free will. The females I found mildly attractive in my earlier state were seen in the clarity of my normal state of mind, only to see that they were acting completely instinctually. There's nothing wrong with that, since that's what we've come here to be. The problem is that when there's one deliberate mind in a orgiastic menagerie of instinctual free wills, the former is out of place. No matter how much I drank that night, my deliberate free will didn't want to let go. It didn't want my instinctual free will to take control.
I tapped my acquaintances and said good-bye to each of them. They were acting instinctually too. They each tried to mutter something into my ear, but all I heard were pants and gasps. Maybe they were speaking the language of the instinctual will, telling my deliberate will to take a break and go off somewhere for a while. Whatever was going on, I walked out of there deliberately.
