Electronic Writer

Let’s start with a working definition of Authenticity. The most succinct definition that I could develop upon first reflection is:

While this is a problematic definition, it is an adequate place to start. It is improper to start a definition with the term itself, and I am not satisfied with describing the subject by describing what it is not. And, the term “Authenticity” must address the situation of the slippery and deliberate misusage of meaning through the process of misappropriating components of the truth (or truthful facts).

While fact-finding for this definition, I came accross some other discussions of Truth (and perhaps Authenticity). Plato addressed Truth in his Theory of Forms, while Descartes indirectly addressed “Authenticity” in his Evil Genius argument. The phenomenologists tackled it in an off-handed way, but argued that the “authenticity” of an experience was derived from your tangible experience of it. While they are interesting arguments, I am addressing something else. More specifically, I want to address the deliberate misuse of the truth for political or personal gain. The most prolific philosophical discussion of Authenticity can perhaps be found in Albert Camus. His concept of “double-speak” directly addresses the political and slippery usage of language for deliberately misleading aims.

While I am continuing to think through these ideas, I will continue to post them. I am not prepared to tackle this tiny dilemma between Absolute and Relative Truths tonight. Although it must be addressed before we go any further, we must save that discussion for another day.

Should writing (for me) be more important than happiness?

Again, while ruminating, an interesting thought flashed through my mind. In the last few months, I have been re-prioritizing my life and writing has surfaced at the top. For many years, I have said that writing was a priority, but not actually working as if it were. As a result, my history has been filled with easy distractions.

As the list of priorities looks right now, Writing (note the capitol “W”) has made it to the top of the list. Now that it is number one, however, I am faced with an interesting dilemma. What happens if writing and happiness become separate elements and require separate energies? Should writing stay at the top of the list–even if I have to sacrifice my happiness in the process?

I guess, in my naivety, I had always assumed that writing and happiness were inextricable bound. I had always assumed that if I were writing, I would be happy. Thinking about it realistically, however, I see how easily this could be a false premise.

At this time in my life, I have no conclusive evidence that my original premise is either true or untrue. Perhaps it is fortunate, and perhaps not. Perhaps I will never know. But, I hope that I never know because my happiness and writing are inextricable related, not because I never tried.

A while back, while ruminating over coffee at a coffee shop, I stumbled onto a dilemma that was a little disheartening. I was examining my own behavior, as well as the behavior of others in my past. I realized that there were instances in which we were physically telling the truth of the events, but the manner in which the details were conveyed created a false impression or misrepresented the actual situation.

By the technical definition of the word “truth,” each person (myself included) was, in fact, telling the truth. The details of the situation had been accurately recounted. A distinction must be made, however. While the details are an important piece, I argue that over-arching evaluation is the more important component. Being accurate to the details, while misrepresenting that larger picture is a slippery situation, and in my opinion, somewhat more sinister than an accidental or intentional misrepresentation of a detail.

At first, I was rather disheartened at the inadequacy of the term “truth.” This complex relationship exists between details and meaning, and between intention and appropriation. Truth is merely not complex enough to cover these association. My first impulse was to address the inadequecy of that term, but I soon realized that the place to focus would be instead to define a more comprehensive term for “appropriate” usage of the truth–or the correct conveying of meaning.

After ruminating on this topic, I have selected the term “Authenticity” to describe this additional requirement.

A few weeks ago, I spent the money and bought a ticket to see Steven Spielberg’s latest masterpiece, “Munich.” As I have come to expect, it was a wonderful film: technically superior, with a compelling story, excellent cinematography, and compelling, well-wrought characters (and, NO, I am not promoting Spielberg’s work).

The story details what happened after 11 Israeli Olympians were taken hostage and killed by Black September, and the 5 Israeli men who were chosen to eliminate those responsible. You can read more about it at the IMDB entry.

While I enjoyed the movie complely, my curiosity was aroused. During the course of the movie, a theme is repeated. The main character (and narrator) comes face-to-face with the leader of a Terrorist group on the other side. It is through a series of interesting events how it occurs, but the other leader does not know who both of them are, while the narrator has full awareness.

The conclusion that the narrator reaches is that the two of them are roughly the same person–or, very similar. They are both passionate about their country and their cause. They are both willing to die for their country and their cause. And, they are both in a dangerous place with few people to trust. This interesting exchange is punctuated by the other leader’s death during one of the narrator’s operations.

Later in the movie, another interesting issue arises. There is dissent amongst the group. One of the team members has been hunted and killed. The remaining team knew who did it, and they decided to kill the hired assassin who did it. The dissenting member pleaded with the narrator: This is not the behavior of a good Jew. What we are doing is bad, and there has to be a time for us to draw the line and stop the killing. While the narrator listened to arguments, he was resolute in his decision. And, he gave the dissenting team member time off. While the team was away on this mission, the dissenting member was also killed.

The sentiments expressed by the dissenting member are not knew. I believe it was Neitsche who said, that when fighting the dragon, be fearful of becoming the dragon itself. Albert Camus argued that we, as a civilization, must become murders when we enforce capitol punishment upon murders–and, it is an unacceptable premise to punish and sanction killing in the same action. In this character’s lines, however, we have the same arguments being dramatized in a contemporary setting. One that is both compelling and pertinent to our current situation in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Lastly, after team members have started to die, personalities have started to change, and the mission is nearing the end, another issue arises. The lines of the movie actually articulate perhaps the most important point of the movie. One character says that for every [Black September member] that we kill in retaliation, 10 more of our own die. They agree and admit that their actions are not solving the problem, but rather making it worse.

In our current situation in Afghanistan and Iraq, an identical argument has been made about the US military presence and operations in the Middle East. Do you think that Spielberg was applying the same argument in film? Can we, as a nation and as a world, learn something from the Israeli past?

What do you think? I am dying to know . . . .

I saw you in a dream, and I remembered . . . .

My missed connection is that idyllic outlook on life that people are good, that they say what they mean, and that they are not out to harm you.

My missed connection is that first kiss where her lips are so alluring, and the passion is so crazy-wild that the electricity between us can almost be seen. I miss only thinking about that kiss, and not whether the kiss would be worth the drama later . . . .

My missed connection is the fresh eyes, the beginner’s eyes, that I had for the mundane: cooking dinner, driving to wherever, and opening my eyes to the rising sun.

My missed connection is my innocence. I have grown up, and I miss you. Just tell me what I can do win you back.

I think I like Salons. I knew what they were, how they worked, but never attended one before. Last night, North of Fairfax (a tiny town North of Marin County), I attended my first. And, you know what? I like Salons.

Anything that is collaborative, art-related, and a creative outlet has always been a personal favorite. While I feel completely unqualified to make statements about all Salons, I can say a few things about this one–because it was an exceptional event.

First of all, the location was in someone’s home–an actual Salon. The house was a living, working house with a family who lived there–and, the house was filled with wonderful art. It sets the stage when you walk in the door and there are phenomenal paintings in Oil, exceptional charcoal drawing, and sculpture surrounding you. This was an intimate setting, and I was asked to accompany friends who were asked to attend by a friend. And, it was a potluck. So, everyone brought something tasty and vegetarian. The woman who was the MC for the evening was a musician (and who lived in the house) was a singer/guitar player, and she started our evening with a song for us.

There was a wide-range artists who performed. Some people performed, while others sang. There was a monologue, 3 grade-school girls sang gospel, some people read their own poetry, and others read someone else’s poetry. Some cover tunes, and a bunch of original stuff. There was a little Scottish violin, some open-mic vigor, a little real-deal dream poetry, and an entirely unexpected and successful mix of art.

For the sake of society, I hope that our future holds more of these (both for events where I get invited and events in other communities). We need more people who surround children with art, and more events that allow the unexpected to occur. We need more places where people and art intersect. It is in that unexpected place where amazing things happen–both to yourself, and to others.

Open your home and plan a salon. Send invitations. Ask your friends to make art. Make some yourself. Be surprised–the unexpected will make you better.

The Electronic Writer blog has been silent since last September, but that is about to change. There are several reasons for the silence:

1. My writing has been divided amongst venues. I have organized my writing into categories and only my political writing was published on the blog.

2. My efforts towards my business have doubled. Putting more of myself into my work has had trade-offs. The clearest trade-off has involved my time. And, while I have done things to increase productivity, I have just spent more time working.

3. My soul has been divided. I have been distraught with the situation of things both at home and abroad. As a result, the politics of my political blog have been on hold. I have read more poetry than news–and without reading the news, it is hard to be informed, and without being informed, there is nothing to write about.

4. My fire had dwindled.

With this new incarnation of the Electronic Writer blog, the writing is going to be much less specialized. In fact, it will be more representative of myself–diverse, interested in everything, seeking dissonance and the truth, and easily distracted . . . .

Feel free to comment, make requests, or lambast me if you must. Some blogs are intended to be deeply personal and private. This is not one of them. Enjoy.