The philosopher’s robe.
The heavy baggage goes first.
I’m tired and worn out and now grown weary of (at least) two long-standing philosophical quests: pursuit of “the self”–as in, Know Thyself–as well as the notion of authenticity. As a friend recently stated, they are tired and overworked ideas, seeds that are apparently sterile.
I don’t have the intellectual wherewithal, even interest, to continue burrowing down those rabbit holes.
Nietzsche said that one should strive to Become who you are. He was riffing on Pindar, who concluded the phrase saying, Once you know who that is. (There’s an insider’s joke!) It is this business of knowing what that is, the pure and presumably authentic self (my apologizes to Sartre), that is held out to be the core of things. But these “things” no longer interest me. I wish to sail on. Why go to the core when the horizon holds such promise?
I’m an orderly guy. I like everything buttoned down and tidy; so I thought I would set things right and put an end to the conversation here, once and with certainty. (A quick check of this blog with reference to “authenticity” cites at least a dozen postings.)
I return the philosopher’s cloak to the chifferobe, smelling slightly of camphor.
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In this spirit, a new tag-line for “…the house…” has been composed. Gone is the bluster of: Words, My words, Coming at you. Whether you need them or not. Instead, a factually more accurate, less aggressive, description: The House I Live In, A journal of life pursued.
Thanks for reading. I appreciate it.