Crazy is as crazy does – no matter what it says

I was just sitting on the harbor wall gnawing on half an uncut ham when an old man walked past on the street above. The bemused look he gave me made me wonder if eating ham without first cutting it into thin slices was some kind of social faux pas I was unaware existed.

It made me feel a bit like a stray dog. I wondered if I might be crazy. You know, like one of those old bearded men crouched under the flyover and sucking the blood out of his socks. I’m sure that sometimes I probably look a bit crazy, but that’s not the same as actually being crazy, right?

Yet I worry that maybe my attorney was right. Maybe I might actually be crazy. How would I know?  I mean, he managed to get some disreputable head shrink to state that I was crazy as part of some legal gambit, but that’s not the same as actually being crazy, right?

So I tried a little research. Looking about on the internet, particularly personal blogs, it seems that nearly everyone is declaring that they’re crazy in some way. The meaning of crazy varies wildly between individuals.

So, if I might be crazy, let’s have a look at my options:

For some people “crazy” means that if the quality of the conversation at the bridge club doesn’t improve next week they may actually have to use a four letter word (in the privacy of their own car, on the way home perhaps). Well, fuck that.

For others, “crazy” means that they had one more beer than they intended on Friday night and missed the bus home. Maybe they had to get a taxi. Whew, crazy night. I mean, taxi? In this town? You could have saved six euro if you’d walked.

For some brave people, crazy is fighting serious mental conditions. Crazy is struggling through each day in a disorganized mess and taking pills to try to counteract the effects of the other pills which they’re taking because they don’t have the confidence to argue with the profiteering doctor that prescribed them. I guess this one requires a doctor, so clearly not that kind of crazy.  I sometimes struggle to get through the day but it’s more likely that I’m just drunk or hungover (or both).

It seems the most popular however use of “crazy” however, seems to be referring to rather formulaic, repetitive faux quirkiness that, if anything, is so entirely normal it’s painfully dull. “You don’t have to work to help here, but it’s crazy”.

At first I thought that finding all these other crazy people was a good sign. Maybe it means that my worry that I might be crazy is just a sign that I am actually rather normal?

But then I looked about a little more and I realized that most of the people who are saying “Oh, I’m crazy!” don’t mean it at all. They really actually mean: “I’m a bit dull, but I want to appear quirky and exciting somehow.”

Those with actual troubling mental conditions aside, people who say they’re crazy are often about as bland, uninteresting and unexciting as people can be.  They’re not the ones sitting on the harbor wall chewing on a pound of meat, they’re eating at McDonalds. They’re not the ones trying to look casual walking along the beach at 5 am wearing nothing except a stolen raincoat and a pair of bright orange stilettos; they’re sitting at home watching T.V. wearing a T-Shirt that says “I’m with stupid” and hoping people think it’s ironic.

These are the kind of people with nine to five jobs that they don’t really like. These are the kind of people that argue over whose turn it is to clean up the dog shit. These are the kind of people that eat at the same fast food restaurant every week because it’s kind of familiar. These are the kind of people that go to church because they go to church.

I was thinking… what’s wrong with this picture? Why would I want to be like these people? Why would anyone want to be like that? Is there something here that doesn’t quite fit?

Then the realization hit me. I was wrong. They’re right. They really are fucking crazy. They may be in the majority across a lot of Europe and North America, but that doesn’t mean they’re not crazy; they’re totally bat shit insane.

I remember a story about a guy who decided that the whole world was crazy. He built a circular wall and declared it the wall of the asylum. Then he lived in the middle of the circle. I can’t remember if he ever went in to visit the crazy people in the asylum but I suppose I’d have to find the original story to find out.

Still, the idea seems like reasonable one. I haven’t got the real estate to build me an actual wall, but in any case I’m declaring the lot of you certifiably insane and you can all go live in your asylum. If anyone wants out you’ll have to convince me you’re mentally sound enough to be released…

Suicide: A beginner’s guide

The trouble with suicide is that it’s always being attempted by untrained amateurs, usually when they’re not in the right frame of mind to be trying anything quite so serious or dangerous. In fact, it’s almost a given that if you meet someone that has first hand, practical experience in the field, then you can be sure they’re not very good at it.
I think part of the problem is that many people turn to suicide when they’ve already failed at pretty much everything else. If you can’t get anything else right, why assume you can perform a decent suicide? I suppose at the time they just don’t care that much, which just adds to the problems.
I’m going to look at the most popular reasons for making an attempt. I figure if you’re not in one of these reasons, then you might as well not bother at all.

• • Star crossed lovers
• • Revenge
• • Feeling a bit sad at the moment
• • Incurable, terminal, and painful illness
• • Being danger to others

Star crossed lovers

This one is pretty common, particularly in works of fiction. People who lose love or for some reason can’t be with the one they love decide that the only course of action left to them is suicide. Romeo and Juliet are probably the most famous examples of lovers that can’t be together deciding to take their own lives, but they’re not the only ones. Loreley is supposed to have thrown herself into the Rhine on the same kind of premise and I’m sure there are plenty of others.
While this kind of juvenile behavior is often painted as the height of romance and somehow noble, the truth of the matter is that it’s just plain stupid. Romeo and Juliet were a pair of whiney, self centered, overly dramatic children who managed to kill themselves out of dumb luck more than anything. I for one was glad they were dead; at least it shut them up.
The point is that no matter how it might read in a romance novel, dead bodies are never romantic or beautiful. If Shakespeare had described an accurate scene, in which the two dumb teens vomited and shat themselves before curling up on the floor like rodents to die, I’m sure people would be put off the romance of it. But I suppose that’d spoil the mood of his story.
In conclusion: If you think you might be considering the star crossed lover approach, just give it up – have a cold shower and go out and meet someone that’s not stupid enough to poison themselves.

Revenge

I figure this one is more common than people want to admit. This is where someone does something nasty to you and treats you wrong and so you decide you’re going to be all dramatic and kill yourself.
“I’ll show them!” you think in a fit of righteous fury “they’ll be sorry when I’m dead!”
Actually, they probably won’t; at least, not half as sorry as you’ll be in the seconds before you die.
If you’re thinking to yourself that revenge isn’t the reason you’re considering it – then check everyone you know – are you doing everything in your power to make it as painless for them as you possibly can? Have you considered all the shit they’re going to have to deal with? I’ll tell you this: finding dead bodies is not a pleasant thing to do, particularly if it’s someone you know. Imagine each person you know is the one to find you all cold and urine stained in the corner. If you feel even slightly vindictive about the trauma that person would suffer – then there’s a little bit of revenge in your reasoning. To be honest, if it’s a revenges thing, you might as well go the whole way – why not get a tattoo on your face that says “I did this because my brother beat me at scrabble” and then hang yourself from his bedroom light fixture?

If that idea sounds stupid, it’s because the whole premise is stupid. Killing yourself to hurt someone else is about the most stupid thing you can do. If they really do hate you – then they win. And if they don’t hate you then you both just lose. The people you seek to hurt aren’t responsible for your life – you’re the one that has the most to lose. Just give it up – go create yourself a better life and beat them by just being happy.

Feeling a bit sad at the moment

I guess this is quite common too. People get depressed or blue and decide that they don’t really like being depressed. So they hurt themselves. It’s a bit silly really because being depressed in a temporary state. I’ve been sad before. Sure, it’s no fun being sad and sometimes you just want it to be over, you don’t think you can take it anymore. Turns out that you can. You can clear things up and be happy again. Unless of course you kill yourself. In which case you just stay sad. Maybe you make some other people sad too. Maybe nobody cares. But you are responsible for your own happiness and it’s there when you want it.

I’m not going to say you can just decide to be happy one day and it’ll just happen. I know that’s not the way it goes. However I will say this: It does get better.

When I say “feeling sad” I mean any number of states of emotional  trauma. This covers sadness, guilt, shame, and even fear. Sometimes you might be so afraid of something that dying seems less scary that facing whatever it is that really scares you. Hell, there are some things that I know I’d rather die than face. Yet, I figure that fear can be overcome. You don’t want to fold out as a coward, and whatever you’re guilty of, it’s done now – being dead ain’t gonna help.

Incurable, terminal, and painful illness

Some people are in constant and endless physical pain with no hope of ever being healed. Usually they are very old and have lived well and decide that now is the time to move on. I think you’ll know if you’re in this position. Pain is scary and it can make life feel like a burden. I’ve never been in quite that position, so I can’t say how I’d handle it – but I can say this: I have been injured to the point where I didn’t think I would recover. I lay in the dark in terrible pain and wished it could be over more quickly. However, I did recover, and now I’m glad I didn’t take action based on that wish.

Being a danger to others

Some people just know they’re dangerous. In their calm rational moments they fear that they’ll later lose control and hurt those they love. These kinds of people are, luckily, pretty rare. Most people are pretty good at not hurting others, just getting on with life in an orderly fashion. Those that can’t play gently are usually locked up for the good of everyone else. But if you knew you were that person…. If you knew you were that loose cannon…. What would you do? You could invoke the higher purpose clause – kill the one in favor of the many. But even if you decided that it was the right thing to do – could you do it?

I figure that everyone has thought about it at some point in their lives. I don’t mean, actually seriously considered it. Just thopught about it. Has the thought ever crossed your mind, just in passing?

Do it anyway…

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.

Kent M. Keith, 1968

You can still lose even when you really try.
Try anyway.

You are what you eat

I figure most people have heard of the saying “You are what you eat”. It’s usually used as some kind of oblique reference to the fact that you’re eating something you probably shouldn’t be.

“Um… is that a… are you… uh… are you eating a squirrel?”

“Yup. It’s OK, it’s got ketchup on it.”

“You should be careful; you are what you eat!”

“Skkkkrt!!”

And that’s when she ran up a tree and started throwing acorns at my dog, officer.

Well, ok. Maybe you’re unlikely to turn into a squirrel (or a cheeseburger, or a lentil soup). However, if you think about it, your body is entirely constructed from the food and drink that you shovel into the front of your face (the stuff you spill on the shirt doesn’t count). So on a basic level, we really are made up of exactly what we eat.

But, then… if we are what we eat. Then other things are made up of what they eat too. So, although you might eat a cheese burger, the various bovine contributors to your meal were also made up of what they ate. So… um… grass or something, mostly I guess.

If you follow it back, any animal you might choose to eat is probably made of plants (and if you stick to salad, you get to eat the plants yourself – you know – cut out the middle man and all that). But… what do plants eat?

Plants sup a few nutrients up from the soil and they drink in a lot of water… but mostly they live on… well… Sunshine.

You are what you eat – and what you eat is entirely plants – and plants are made from sunshine. So – you are what you eat and what you eat is sunshine.

So next time you’re feeling not so special and need a bright thought try this one on for size:

You’re made of fucking sunshine!

Don’t forget the shoes…

I just stumbled onto this YouTube video from TED that I thought was worth sharing…

 

Mark Bezos: A life lesson from a volunteer firefighter

 

Sometimes it’s easy to overlook the little things.

Sometimes it’s easy to think that you can’t do something that’ll make a difference.

 

I figure the answer is simply this:

Do something every day to make someone else’s day better. Even if it’s just a friendly smile to a stranger – it’s better than doing nothing at all.

 

If smiling isn’t your strong suit – then check out Steve’s blog – He’s always good for a few good ideas 🙂

 

 

 

The wind.

Two monks were watching a flag fluttering in the wind.

One said:

“It is the air that moves.”

The other disagreed:

“It is the flag that moves.”

They were both wrong.

It is the mind that moves.

A moment of clarity

I remember the day I first realized that I had a drinking problem. What? Two hands – one mouth? What kind of fucked up anatomy is this?

In the middle of a hot summer in the mythical land of Belgium I woke up in a pile of stinking garbage. I was down a narrow back alley in some small town I’d never heard of. The heat was oppressive and the air was still. For some reason it felt like someone had put a railroad spike thru my skull. Twice. My throat was pretty dry and sore so I picked up what was left of a bottle of vodka and rinsed my mouth out. When I rubbed the aches out of my muscles (sleeping in garbage can leave a crick in your neck), I noticed that my hand came away wet and red. Uh oh…

Ah… home sweet home…

It took a little investigation to discover that, although I had blood on me, I wasn’t cut. I don’t really remember if I considered that a good thing or a bad thing at the time. My shirt was ostensibly white; the dark staining was really obvious. I took off the shirt and used the material as a cloth to clean the blood off my jacket and skin. Then hid the stained rag in the trash and put on my jacket. I zipped it right up to the top to hide the fact I wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Walking up the street was really uncomfortable, the jacket was hot and the sun was unrelenting. I walked in the shadows, partly to try to keep cool and partly to keep the light from stabbing my eyes out. I took the bottle of vodka with me and sipped it as I walked. It’s one way to cure a hangover.

I remember a middle aged woman, bulky and wrapped in cotton, pushing a little wicker shopping basket on wheels. She paused to glare disapprovingly at me from the safety of the other side of the street. I didn’t even have the energy to glare back.

Then I noticed a cop car had inched alongside me; He had slowed right down. There were two cops sat inside with peaked hats with little silver shiny bits on. The car’s wheels rumbled on the cobbled street and their heads slowly turned in unison to keep me in view. I remember thinking, oh fuck.

I was too messed up to do anything. I hadn’t even noticed them approaching. I was suddenly scared. I realized they’d probably bust me. Then I’d either get jailed or worse, deported. For the first time I saw that I was too messed up to take care of myself. Too weak to run, to drunk to think, too blind to survive. That’s the point I realized that I had a drinking problem.

Now, with a little hindsight, I’m sure there were a few other little clues that came before that moment, but nothing registered until that point; that instant of realization. Two cops in a car, one with one hand resting on a holster and one hand on the handle to the car door; both watching me stumble. That’s when I knew.

The cops drove right past me and left me standing, shaking inside. I made a decision right then to get my shit together; to make things better. Drinking was making me slow and soft – body and mind. They say you’re 80% water – I was probably 80% proof.

It sounds pretty dramatic – but I reckon those two cops probably saved my life. I have oddly conflicted feelings about that.

Of course, cleaning up my act didn’t just happen overnight. It’s not like I haven’t touched a drop since that day. In fact, I think that very day I drove to meet up with an old friend, got completely drunk and behaved in a way I’m surprised he ever forgave me for. But that’s beside the point. The point is that it took quite a random event to shock me into noticing that I was in trouble.

So why is that? Well, I figure that it’s hard to see the things that you do that are self destructive. You rationalize your behaviour. With alcohol in particular it’s a vicious cycle, because the more you drink, the more whacked your rationalizations can be because you’re too drunk to realize.

I’d been having trouble sleeping and found after a few drinks I slept more easily. So when I was tired and couldn’t sleep I drank. Some days I really couldn’t sleep and so I just kept on drinking. Vodka is one of those subtle ninja drinks that sneak up on you. You take an inch and it tastes like nothing much (unless you have cheap shit – then it tastes like licking a gas tank), then you get that warmth for a while, then it’s gone. It’s not till about half an hour later that you start noticing you’re getting drunk. That means that if you stop drinking when you’ve had a bit too much – you’ve got another half an hour of drinks still to catch up. That’s probably a lot too much. The drinking made my sleeping worse until I couldn’t sleep at all – I just drank till I passed out, then when I regained consciousness I just did it again. It was pretty much a way of life.

I thought at first that the only reason that I managed to get that far gone was due to being on the road alone so that there was nobody to shake me out of it. But I’m not sure that’s true. If anything I think having friends round you can make it worse.

I once lived with a guy called Ed who also used to drink a lot of vodka. At the time there were quite a bunch of us all living in collection derelict buildings. Often when times are hard the drink flows a little more easy – I guess because you need to just blow off steam, get drunk, and forget your troubles a while. Ed drank more vodka than anyone else. He was well known for it. So, you know what the guys did for his birthday? They fitted an extra tap in his room, connected to a long copper pipe up to the roof. Then they stole sixty litres of Russian vodka, filled up a barrel and hooked it up. It was pure vodka on tap. At the time it was funny. He laughed. They laughed. Everyone had a drink. Sometimes I wonder what kind of friends would provide vodka on tap to a borderline alcoholic.

The answer is easy. Pretty much anyone is capable of that. Why? Because your friends are not responsible for your drinking. Your friends are not responsible for your life. Come to that, the social services are not responsible for your life, nor the doctors, or head shrinks, or counsellors, or family, or whoever else we might find to prop up our fucked up world view. It’s a hard fact to learn, but there’s only one person who really, honestly gives a shit about you. You know who that is?

You.

You’re the only person that cares. Nobody else.

If your life is mess, nobody really cares. Your friends may help you out if you ask; your family may help you out even if you don’t. But they’ll probably only help if you’re fighting hard yourself. They can’t fix your fucked up life if you won’t fix it yourself.

But how can you try to fix it if you haven’t noticed you’re in trouble?

Quite simply: You can’t.

So what can you learn from this?

Well, firstly you need to keep an eye on yourself. Take a moment right now. Are things going in the direction you have chosen for yourself? If your life isn’t the way you think it should be, just know this: You can never blame your problems on anyone else. No one cares if your life sucks and no one cares if it isn’t your fault. It may not be your fault – but it’s your problem and you’d better deal with it.

Once you’ve done that, maybe also look to those you love and see if they might need a shake. You can’t be responsible for their life, or for their fuck ups, but maybe you can be two cops in a car. Put one hand on your holster and one hand on the door handle; just drive by.

So… are fairies real?

I looked at the search terms for people finding my nice shiny new blog and it turns out that everyone that has found this blog from a Google search has been interested in finding the truth about fairies. Quite why Google has been sending such requests here is unknown, but I guess I might as well take the time to settle the question, just so those people haven’t come all this way for nothing.

So, fairies… fact of fiction?

Well, it’s actually a little more complicated than that. There’s a lot of mythos regarding fairies, and a lot of it is contradictory and so it’s hard to know exactly what people mean when they say “fairy”.

For example: Tinkerbell?

Definitely a fictional character.

In the same way that Micky Mouse isn’t an accurate representation of a mouse, you can’t expect tinkerbell to be an accurate reflection of a fairy.

The origin of Mickey Mouse

The Origin of Tinkerbell?

So what in the inspiration for the fairy cartoon?

Well, ancient remains of a wild fairy discovered in a bog in England may provide the answer! Although partly decomposed, this gives a good insight into the kind of creature may have inspired the fairy stories.

British Bog Fairy

The fairy, which probably fell into the bog while singing, has been mummified by the bog and is thought to be over two hundred thousand years old.

Small sharp teeth make the Bog Fairy a dangerous predator

Also, a fairy fossil has been discovered in an Australian cave. This is thought to be a different species of fairy, but of a similar age.

A 200,000 year old fossil of an Australian Leaf Fairy

Both fairies are female and look very much like small people. It is thought that the British bog fairy was a carnivorous creature that hunted mostly beetles and mice. Her Australian cousin has a more rounded tooth structure and is thought to have been a vegetarian.

It is thought that fairies were once quite common, however it is unusual to find evidence of them. Scientists believe that this is due to their fragile bodies being easily broken down by the elements when they die.

It is thought that faries were once part of daily life in the villages of England. In same way that coca-cola used to contain real cocaine, fairy cakes used to contain real fairy dust. In ancient times it was not unusual for a baker to keep a fairy in a semi-domestic capacity and to use the dust from its wings to make fairy cakes. The British Bog fairy also served as an alternative to keeping a cat as she would hunt and kill mice that tried to get into the grain store. When cocaine became morally wrong and hence illegal, its use was banned and now coca-cola must rely on sugar and caffeine for its addictive qualities. In a similar way, the fairy cake also resorted to using sugar to replace its active ingredient. However, this was for a very different reason.

In 1837, Thomas Hedley discovered that the essence of a fairy was actually fantastically good for making bubbles. It turns out; it was also very good at giving things a sparkling clean shine. He immediately founded a soap company in Newcastle, England. He hunted wild fairies and in his small factory he used them to make soap. He bought the rights to the word ‘Fairy’ from Fairbanks and launched the first all-purpose soap in 1898.

In 1930, Thomas Hedley was struggling as he had hunted the English fairies into extinction and now relied on those caught abroad to make his soap. Procter and Gamble took over the fairy soap company and decided to make a more efficient use of fairies. They began a large scale fairy breeding program designed breed a juicier and less flighty fairy. Today, large battery breeding cages filled with plump, wingless creatures are all that is left of the once glorious fairy.

Fairy processing plant

They blink in the neon lights of the factories and are fed on high protein gruel until they are fat enough to process. The processing involves fairies being put into a metal cylinder and then pressed thru a mesh to release the essence. The husks are used as one of the ingredients in the food for the other fairies; the bright green juice is used as an additive for the cleaning products industry.

Sparkling clean dishes? Magic!

So what about wild fairies? Are there any left?

Sadly, with the over hunting, increase in complaining, and the eradication of her natrual habitat, the wild fairy is all but extinct. There may be some still living in San Francisco or the wilds of Borneo, but wherever they are, they’re keeping well hidden…

Mice in the grain store

Everyone knows that people in crowds behave differently from individuals. Individuals may be smart, but crowds are stupid. There’s something about being part of a large group that somehow seems to strip away the mental capabilities of the individual; they give up their decision making to the group and hence shrug off responsibility for their own actions. Suddenly they can behave like wild animals.

“Let’s smash stuff up!”

The IQ of a crowd is the IQ of the smartest member, divided by the number of people.

So what’s the IQ of the human race? Well, the highest IQ on record is Physicist and Engineer Kim Ung-yong with a score of 210. The earth’s population is 6.92 billion. So the human race as a whole has an IQ of about 0.00000003. You’ll not need me to tell you; that’s a poor IQ for a glass of water.

I figure we’re not even on the same scale as animals – we’re barely alive. Some kind of low level cell virus or something.

But seriously, what about those mice?

Do you know what happens when a few mice get into a grain store undetected? Well, with the food supply so good they make themselves at home. They have babies. Because the food supply is so easy, all the babies grow up healthy strong. They have babies themselves. If twenty mice pair off and have six little mice, then you’ve got seventy mice. All of which can breed. So then you’ve got 280 mice. Then 1120. The population explodes and there are mice everywhere. Hundreds! Thousands! Swarms of the little buggers. It’s good times for mice! The party just keeps rolling.

Mice rule the world!

The population keeps rocketing until one day, quite suddenly, the grain runs out. Ah – bummer.

So then what happens?

Well, there’s a problem. The surrounding countryside can’t support the massive population of mice. The farmer isn’t going to restock that silo because she’s gone bust (all that grain she had to sell, well, it’s kinda missing). So the mice empire crashes. Every plant and bit of wood for miles around is gnawed to ground and there are desperate mice fighting over bits of dirt and pebbles that aren’t even edible. Soon the ground is littered with the dying and dead. It’s the mouse apocalypse.

Maybe a few survive. These few manage to scratch out a living in the wasteland, but they’ll never have it so good again. Life for the survivors is hard.

So what should the mice have done?

Well, what if back when the first few mice snuck into the grain store they all got together and had a mouse meeting. Some important and clever mouse could address his comrades:

“Listen up lads, we’re on to a good thing here. We can live like kings for as long as we like. So long as we only take a small amount of the grain, and keep quiet, no one will ever know. We can stay here and build self-sufficient way of life that will last not only for us, but for our children, and for their children. We can ensure prosperity for our progeny for all time; until we finally evolve into something that can beat the shit out of a cat.”

They could set themselves up a little self-sufficient hippy commune and live in harmony with their environment. The farmer gets the grain, they take a small cut, life goes on and everyone is happy.

But mice don’t do that. They’re not that smart.

And honestly? Neither are we.

The higher purpose clause

What is the higher purpose clause?

Well, is an argument used by many religions, governments, and even individuals to justify doing something that is clearly wrong, on the grounds that it is for the greater good.

Not to be confused with the Higher Porpoise Clause

“We’re going to build a new dam and flood your village to make a reservoir so the people in the next town have clean water.”

Well, shucks. It sucks to live in that village.

In many cases that’s as far as it goes, some authority or other balancing the needs of different groups and deciding to screw one in favor of the many. I guess that’s just progress.

However, the real danger of the Higher Purpose Clause is that it can easily be used to justify almost anything.

Let’s start with a trivial example

Imagine that there is a person with a bomb and they are about to kill ten people. The only way you can stop this person is to shoot them before they set off the bomb. You know that if you shoot, you will kill the aggressor. Chain of argument goes: this person is a murderer; I can save ten innocent lives; the only person who comes to harm is a killer; so I’ll shoot.

(I know, there’ll always be those who wouldn’t shoot – those who’d let the killer blow up the innocent people, but we’ll assume for now that you’re not one of those – we’ll see what happens to those people later)

Fine and dandy. You’d save the innocent many by killing the killer.

So let’s take the same scenario up a notch, shall we?

Let’s say that rather than one person set to kill ten people, you have a group of ten people about to kill one hundred people. You can save all one hundred people by blowing up the ten killers with a handy bomb.

Oooh, handy!

The moral argument is still the same, you save ten times as many people as you kill and every person that you kill is in fact a killer being prevented from acting out the murderous plan. Only there’s a catch. If you agree that you should blow up the ten, I’ll shoot you.

What?

You have just become the aggressor in the first example.  Therefore, while you feel morally ok about blowing up ten people, I feel morally ok shooting you to prevent it.

The problem here is a lack of information. If you knew the whole picture and you could see everyone’s intent, then a clear course of action for the greater good could be made. Even in this trivial example, it’s easy to get caught out. So what happens in the real world where things are so incredibly complex? Well… soldiers blow the shit out of hospitals and schools; they kill hundreds of thousands of civilians in a vague hunt for a handful of people they probably won’t even recognise if they found. Then politicians put a snappy strap line on it and sell it as Righteous and Good. The higher purpose clause at work – don’t worry about those foreign civilians, it’s for the greater good of the free world.

Bombing the hospital looses you 1000 points, but that's ok because you can get those back by boming the school...

So what’s the alternative?

Quite simply: Do no wrong.

Each act should be good in its own right, without further justification. It’s wrong to kill, so if the bomber is about to kill ten people, you let that happen. The bomber may do wrong, but that’s no reason to also do wrong.

The trouble with this philosophy is that if you follow it, you get fucked.

You can probably get away with it in a large city if you’re careful and lucky and hide in obscurity, because you’ll never need to do wrong. You can probably get away with it if you live on a mountain where nobody will trouble you.

However, we still live in a world where some people exist in poverty and others live like Emperors. If you’re reading this then on a global scale, you’re probably an Emperor (or at least, a well off noble of some kind). Without the will to defend yourself and your country, you will be dragged down into the darkness. So you must fight, or at least condone others to fight on your behalf.

“All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”

So what’s the answer?

Honestly, I don’t know. I’d like to say that you should do something, but do no wrong. In practice that’s not how I behave at all.

If I’m walking down a dark alleyway in the night and I’m confronted by a man with a knife I have the same options. If I do nothing – I get fucked –  evil wins. If take care to do no wrong, I put myself at risk and I probably get fucked – evil wins. So what do I do? I fucking kill him. I don’t feel bad about that. If I were to invoke the higher purpose clause I could say that I am protecting innocent women; that if just made my escape and let him go then next time he might attack a girl that couldn’t defend herself. But that’s not it. That’s not why I’d do it. I’d do it because I would be fighting to win. I would be defending myself with no holds barred. If I let him go he might follow me. My intent would be to end any threat to myself. Because of this, if I knocked him down and he wasn’t getting up again, the situation would be altered and I could walk away.

The higher purpose clause would murder him while he was down. That’s why I don’t trust it.

The difference is – if he runs away – I won’t follow him.

So what’s the answer?

I guess you pay your money, take your choice, hope things all work out in the end…