by Andy Nowicki
The materialist conception of reality posits
as self-evident the non-existence of the human soul. To materialists, a living
being is a meat puppet controlled by no hidden hand; it merely flops about
pitifully on its arbitrarily-constructed stage, until such time when events
conspire to cause its demise.
In the materialistic conception, a creature
like man simply has no enduring imperative beyond a desperate—and ultimately
futile- drive for self-preservation. Notions of an afterlife and an eternal
destiny are simply delusions he has sold himself to give his paltry existence
the illusion of meaning. The very complexity of his consciousness has, in fact,
become his curse. The reality of death, meanwhile, can only strike terror into
his heart, and he strains miserably to avoid it. Pain, too, is something he
cannot abide, for pain is a reminder of his mortality. Pleasure, conversely, is
the main distraction that he craves, but it is an ever-fleeting one, which
brings increasingly diminishing returns, given the constantly obtruding reminders
of his approaching extinction.
Yet the materialist has no adequate way of explaining the fact that, for many humans, pain and death are not just stoically endured but actively sought out. The so-called “pleasure principle” is complemented by what could be called the “pain prerogative.” The life force that animates our typical day-to-day behavior is balanced by a hidden, yet at times undeniably conspicuous death wish.
Answering Hamlet’s famous rhetorical question “To be or not to be” thus proves a more difficult proposition than one initially
presumes, because the drive to go on existing in comfort is in competition with
a strange and perverse yearning for pain and death. We secretly ache for catharsis—to be cracked open and smashed to bits, since we simply cannot find fulfillment here in this veil of
grime and tears, no matter how hard we strain to be “happy.” This world in fact
isn’t the proper venue for the attainment of joy; instead, it is a crucible
through which our souls must be refined by fire, or else wither and melt
beneath the torment that inevitably attends our temporal, transitory state.
******************
Indeed, were the materialist conception of
things really true, self-injurious activity of any kind would scarcely ever occur. It would make no sense for such conduct even to exist among the general inventory
of human behavior, because it would serve no purpose. Under such a circumstance, humans would flee from pain at every opportunity, because pain would serve no function to the minds of such an un-ensouled race; the very notion of hitting, whipping, or cutting oneself would
be regarded not just as silly and disturbed, but as patently obscene. Getting hurt
at all would become a great taboo, never to be discussed in polite company
without inducing titters of consternation.
The concept of death, meanwhile, would obtain
such a level of horror in the human psyche that its ubiquity would present a
grave, insurmountable challenge to one’s mental health. Man would have to become a deluded psychotic, all for the paradoxical sake of his own sanity. He would be forced to deny to himself
that life as he knows it could ever end,
much less that it inevitably ends. He
would need to learn to un-see this
fact, to un-acknowledge and altogether un-learn
it, to the point where it would make as little sense to him as an absurd and unresolvable equation or a nonsense rhyme.
But we do not live in a world where such
extreme customs prevail. Troubling though these aspects of life may be, we do admit to ourselves the existence of pain, and we do recognize the reality of death. We are generally
able to endure the fact of both without losing our minds. And more than this: the fact is that we need both pain and death; at times
we even crave them. If self-harming
behavior isn’t common, it certainly isn’t uncommon, either. Even non-flagellants and non-cutters will admit that they can understand the appeal, if they are honest with themselves.
For example, is there not something wonderfully satisfying about nicking your face while shaving? The trickle of blood left in the wake of a blade’s
accidental too-deep dig into your flesh fills your spirit with a rueful ripple
of strange exhilaration, a sense of crossing a kind of threshold; were there no
pain, after all, there would no gain. And is it not similarly bracing to accumulate blisters
on your feet over the course of a long run, or to sweat through your shirt and
skivvies on a blazing hot day, or otherwise to expend or abuse your flesh in
order to graduate to a higher level of bodily consciousness?
Discomfort, paradoxically enough, can feel
quite good. Numbness, conversely, can in its way hurt worse than pain. And psychic suffering, the kind with no means
of physical outlet, can be the most pronounced, unendurably excruciating sensation
of all. It burns a person from within, urgently demanding the relief that attends a
self-induced catharsis. Those who willfully and habitually hurt themselves are
in all likelihood hyper-conscious of these conditions, which are in fact
inherent aspects of the greater human
condition.
These unavoidable agonies—“the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to”-- are rendered all the more acute,
however, during times of entrenched secularism and mandated agnosticism, where
one’s sincere attempts to strive for transcendence are thwarted through constant
rhetorical undermining from blandly condescending spokesmen of official
institutions (e.g. “That’s fine… if works for you”), and therefore must be accomplished through more direct,
unmediated means. When even those who are supposed to be mentors fail to be
useful, since they have a greater desire to spout what is trendy than to serve
the truth, then true seekers of truth, realizing they are on their own, are driven to
pursue ever-more radical avenues to glory.
And suicide can even be called the apotheosis of this tendency. That anyone
would rather die than live puts to rest the notion that man is neurotically inclined
to embrace life and flee from its terrifying alternative at all costs. That we
would at some point want death
implies that we yearn finally to experience “what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.”
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