god damn. i wish I didn't "enjoy" reading your writings, is that the right word? it sounds macarbe. but I don't like hearing the torture you're in. but you write w such clarity. no bullshit. no trying to shine the light on something or to try and trick yourself and others to believe in some positive point somewhere hidden. life is suffering and you are in the thick of it. I guess I just appreciate your honesty and teachings you don't know you're bringing.
Thank you for puncturing, once and for all time, the fatuous faux-spiritual platitude "everything happens for a reason". It gets on my nerves worse than most platitudes. It is always delivered with a wise smile. Aaagh. I am a Buddhist and some people seem to think that it fits in well with the doctrine of karma, but no, it does not. Karma posits that things happen through causes, just as science does. Things happen, not for 'a reason' but depending on countless interwoven 'reasons' in the sense of causes, every result is over-determined in a determinative universe.
I too am a Buddhist and agree 100%. Karma isn't about punishment. Life is hard. Sometimes bad things just happen, and we must pick up the pieces the best we can.
Yes, "everything happens for a reason" is jarringly stupid. We have that saying in Italy too. Didn't either Plato or Socrates say "no evil ever happens to a good man"? Perhaps worse, because they had the brains to know better.
I feel intimidated by your accomplishments and great prose, but I still want to write to say that I enjoy your writing so much and you have a permanent place in my mind - it's good company!
The fall of a single domino in a column is of deep significance to the domino, especially since it will be unable to right itself unaided. In the broader context of the Rube Goldberg machine that, through a series of contrived and whimsical actions, will eventually trigger the alarm clock that will awaken God, it is just another minor action in the sequence.
That being said, as trivial as the domino may appear, it still has a purpose, since if it does not fall, or fails to topple the next domino in the line, then God oversleeps. Beyond any subjective narrative that we are able to patch together on the fly, our lives arguably have much less objective meaning, or possibly none at all. As a professor of philosophy you will be aware that, in a theoretical parallel universe where you are an ice-cream magnate, you have penned an identical Substack entry where all mention of disability have been replaced by references to ice-cream, pointing to a destiny that you have deftly fulfilled through a combination of effort and diligence. It's a bid for centre stage. Everybody does it. In reality, the best we can hope for is some backhanded acknowledgement when the end credits roll, where you will be listed as 'onlooker in wheelchair'. I will be there too, buried in the scrolling micro-type, probably as 'jaundiced hippy'.
It is likely that we will never know the true reason why Superman was not present at 9/11. Even Mitchell Hundred (in Brian K. Vaughan's comic, Ex Machina) managed to save one of the towers, though it bears mentioning that the abilities he drew upon to perform this feat will very likely be used to enslave humanity at a later date. It's the trolley car problem but with hijacked air-planes and pan-dimensional conquerors. I suppose it's possible that Superman gave it the once over and decided not to get involved.
Hey Paul. I have enjoyed reading your posts since the amalgam appeared in the Guardian. I have also been thinking a good deal about Samuel Beckett of late, esp. the novels. I wondered if some of his writing might offer any interesting structures to think against? I hope everything continues to improve for you. Very best, Maddie
I wonder, are you determined to end your life and are you therefore building up the courage to eventually do it, or are you determined to live despite your disabilities and suffering? Or do you vacillate between the two? Me, I’m “sick to death” of life, having been housebound for several years, in pain, can barely move, outlived family and friends, only ever speak to care workers, and they can barely speak English. Despite this pointless existence, I just can’t ever imagine actively ending my life, tho I don’t know why not, as it seems the logical choice. Perhaps I’m hoping for a miracle, tho not consciously. Perhaps I’m trying to prove that I can endure, tho why would that be of benefit? I’m interested in knowing if you experience conflicted thoughts on life and death, and if so, maybe you’d consider sharing some of them.
I oscillate, hour to hour. Though I don't think a single day goes by when at some point I don't just wish I could end it right away. Weirdly, I think it's depression and apathy that means I'm still alive. I lack the motivation to act on my darker desires, in the same sort of way that I lack the motivation to do much at all these days. (It is no accident that the Americans have a high suicide rate, as well as easy access to firearms.)
Thank you for responding, I appreciate it. Living with suffering is probably the biggest challenge any of us can face. Depression is the very devil. I think working on our mental health is key to being able to carry on and discover new meaning after the loss of physical health. The life of the mind/spirit assumes ever greater value. I’m immersing myself in books and study. Not merely to escape but to enrich - I hope!
Very understandable that you feel the way you do. It's a normal reaction to an extremely hard situation. Life just isn't fair.
A little gallows humor: A family friend was seriously injured in Vietnam and ended up losing his leg. He got hit by a car while crossing the street. It was the driver's fault. It destroyed his prosthetic leg, but he was otherwise ok. We were all worried, but he said, "I wish it had been the real leg. A broken leg would have been a lot cheaper." Living with a permanent disability isn't for sissies. I really admire you and appreciate your writing.
Thank you Paul for your writing. I could write a hundred words on a hundred thoughts about what your words mean to me; instead, just a big thank you for clearing out the fluff.
“Everything happens for a reason” is not just questionable but incredibly insensitive, it borders on inspiration porn that only benefits the person saying the statement. Same with ‘well it could always be worse’, because it could always be better, too. People think they mean well when they say these platitudes but I think it’s mainly said for their own comfort to avoid going into the trauma and grief of the other person more than they might want to. You used to tell me about the sponge metaphor when it came to stoicism, but even a sponge can only hold so much water. Feel what you need to feel, if life is shit, it’s shit, it doesn’t matter if someone’s life might be hypothetically shitter.
Yeah, people aren't allowed to say "everything happens for a reason" to me. Nothing about my accident was inevitable. Not to go all biblical, but one of the best written phrases describing the predicament I find myself in: "I returned and saw under the sun that— The race is not to the swift, Nor the battle to the strong, Nor bread to the wise, Nor riches to men of understanding, Nor favor to men of skill; But time and chance happen to them all."
As you might have seen from my last blog, where I take some steps up and down my living room with the help of three physiotherapists, my life has been transformed by what happened to me that day in Isabella’s apartment two years ago. I have been forced to live in an entirely new way, and I don’t like it; I hate every moment of it. But I have to put up with it.
What can you make of what has happened to you? How can you absorb or assimilate it?
The implication of this post is that meaning is found in these stories, rather than generated by them. Not sure that is true.
When you peel away the layers of an onion you don’t get a core of onionness — it’s layers all the way down … and then the void. The centre is just another layer.
The death of a 22 year old only appears cruel so if you think there is something at the core. That is, if you think that human beings are autonomous meaningful things. But meaning is generated from our relationship with the world. For me, every road death renews the urgency for car-free cities. Would any collective meaning exist without the desire for things to be different?
god damn. i wish I didn't "enjoy" reading your writings, is that the right word? it sounds macarbe. but I don't like hearing the torture you're in. but you write w such clarity. no bullshit. no trying to shine the light on something or to try and trick yourself and others to believe in some positive point somewhere hidden. life is suffering and you are in the thick of it. I guess I just appreciate your honesty and teachings you don't know you're bringing.
Thank you for puncturing, once and for all time, the fatuous faux-spiritual platitude "everything happens for a reason". It gets on my nerves worse than most platitudes. It is always delivered with a wise smile. Aaagh. I am a Buddhist and some people seem to think that it fits in well with the doctrine of karma, but no, it does not. Karma posits that things happen through causes, just as science does. Things happen, not for 'a reason' but depending on countless interwoven 'reasons' in the sense of causes, every result is over-determined in a determinative universe.
All the best to you, Paul, as ever.
I too am a Buddhist and agree 100%. Karma isn't about punishment. Life is hard. Sometimes bad things just happen, and we must pick up the pieces the best we can.
Stunning examination of the weirdness of life. Bless.
Yes, "everything happens for a reason" is jarringly stupid. We have that saying in Italy too. Didn't either Plato or Socrates say "no evil ever happens to a good man"? Perhaps worse, because they had the brains to know better.
I feel intimidated by your accomplishments and great prose, but I still want to write to say that I enjoy your writing so much and you have a permanent place in my mind - it's good company!
The fall of a single domino in a column is of deep significance to the domino, especially since it will be unable to right itself unaided. In the broader context of the Rube Goldberg machine that, through a series of contrived and whimsical actions, will eventually trigger the alarm clock that will awaken God, it is just another minor action in the sequence.
That being said, as trivial as the domino may appear, it still has a purpose, since if it does not fall, or fails to topple the next domino in the line, then God oversleeps. Beyond any subjective narrative that we are able to patch together on the fly, our lives arguably have much less objective meaning, or possibly none at all. As a professor of philosophy you will be aware that, in a theoretical parallel universe where you are an ice-cream magnate, you have penned an identical Substack entry where all mention of disability have been replaced by references to ice-cream, pointing to a destiny that you have deftly fulfilled through a combination of effort and diligence. It's a bid for centre stage. Everybody does it. In reality, the best we can hope for is some backhanded acknowledgement when the end credits roll, where you will be listed as 'onlooker in wheelchair'. I will be there too, buried in the scrolling micro-type, probably as 'jaundiced hippy'.
It is likely that we will never know the true reason why Superman was not present at 9/11. Even Mitchell Hundred (in Brian K. Vaughan's comic, Ex Machina) managed to save one of the towers, though it bears mentioning that the abilities he drew upon to perform this feat will very likely be used to enslave humanity at a later date. It's the trolley car problem but with hijacked air-planes and pan-dimensional conquerors. I suppose it's possible that Superman gave it the once over and decided not to get involved.
great voice, keep writing
Damn, this hits so hard dude.
Are you by any chance familiarized with the works of Albert Camus? If so, has your outlook on them changed after your accident?
Hey Paul. I have enjoyed reading your posts since the amalgam appeared in the Guardian. I have also been thinking a good deal about Samuel Beckett of late, esp. the novels. I wondered if some of his writing might offer any interesting structures to think against? I hope everything continues to improve for you. Very best, Maddie
I wonder, are you determined to end your life and are you therefore building up the courage to eventually do it, or are you determined to live despite your disabilities and suffering? Or do you vacillate between the two? Me, I’m “sick to death” of life, having been housebound for several years, in pain, can barely move, outlived family and friends, only ever speak to care workers, and they can barely speak English. Despite this pointless existence, I just can’t ever imagine actively ending my life, tho I don’t know why not, as it seems the logical choice. Perhaps I’m hoping for a miracle, tho not consciously. Perhaps I’m trying to prove that I can endure, tho why would that be of benefit? I’m interested in knowing if you experience conflicted thoughts on life and death, and if so, maybe you’d consider sharing some of them.
I oscillate, hour to hour. Though I don't think a single day goes by when at some point I don't just wish I could end it right away. Weirdly, I think it's depression and apathy that means I'm still alive. I lack the motivation to act on my darker desires, in the same sort of way that I lack the motivation to do much at all these days. (It is no accident that the Americans have a high suicide rate, as well as easy access to firearms.)
Thank you for responding, I appreciate it. Living with suffering is probably the biggest challenge any of us can face. Depression is the very devil. I think working on our mental health is key to being able to carry on and discover new meaning after the loss of physical health. The life of the mind/spirit assumes ever greater value. I’m immersing myself in books and study. Not merely to escape but to enrich - I hope!
Very understandable that you feel the way you do. It's a normal reaction to an extremely hard situation. Life just isn't fair.
A little gallows humor: A family friend was seriously injured in Vietnam and ended up losing his leg. He got hit by a car while crossing the street. It was the driver's fault. It destroyed his prosthetic leg, but he was otherwise ok. We were all worried, but he said, "I wish it had been the real leg. A broken leg would have been a lot cheaper." Living with a permanent disability isn't for sissies. I really admire you and appreciate your writing.
Thank you Paul for your writing. I could write a hundred words on a hundred thoughts about what your words mean to me; instead, just a big thank you for clearing out the fluff.
“Everything happens for a reason” is not just questionable but incredibly insensitive, it borders on inspiration porn that only benefits the person saying the statement. Same with ‘well it could always be worse’, because it could always be better, too. People think they mean well when they say these platitudes but I think it’s mainly said for their own comfort to avoid going into the trauma and grief of the other person more than they might want to. You used to tell me about the sponge metaphor when it came to stoicism, but even a sponge can only hold so much water. Feel what you need to feel, if life is shit, it’s shit, it doesn’t matter if someone’s life might be hypothetically shitter.
Yeah, people aren't allowed to say "everything happens for a reason" to me. Nothing about my accident was inevitable. Not to go all biblical, but one of the best written phrases describing the predicament I find myself in: "I returned and saw under the sun that— The race is not to the swift, Nor the battle to the strong, Nor bread to the wise, Nor riches to men of understanding, Nor favor to men of skill; But time and chance happen to them all."
You're writing from the rockface of human experience, and I am so grateful to you for elucidating what I've never seen written before
maybe check out Hanif Kureishi's substack:
As you might have seen from my last blog, where I take some steps up and down my living room with the help of three physiotherapists, my life has been transformed by what happened to me that day in Isabella’s apartment two years ago. I have been forced to live in an entirely new way, and I don’t like it; I hate every moment of it. But I have to put up with it.
What can you make of what has happened to you? How can you absorb or assimilate it?
The implication of this post is that meaning is found in these stories, rather than generated by them. Not sure that is true.
When you peel away the layers of an onion you don’t get a core of onionness — it’s layers all the way down … and then the void. The centre is just another layer.
The death of a 22 year old only appears cruel so if you think there is something at the core. That is, if you think that human beings are autonomous meaningful things. But meaning is generated from our relationship with the world. For me, every road death renews the urgency for car-free cities. Would any collective meaning exist without the desire for things to be different?