The Lot of Man: Proscription and Curse

Today’s mastery of mankind by a “teensy bug” combined with the folly of media fearmongering and shameless political posturing offers the homebound human an uninvited occasion to ponder. Welcome or not, it’s here. And I do aspire, as Descartes admonished, to at least intermittently ponder. So, in trying to make the best of it, here’s my latest summation on “the state of man’s fate”—a proscription and a curse. (“Man” used generically, don’t badger me PC’ers!)

Walking in the dark alone last evening, in obeyance of the government edict regarding social-distance exercise, I came upon a sign in the black window of Mission’s popular sports restaurant, The Lucky Brewgrille: Going Out of Business Sale. Following the surprise and shock, I experienced a profound heartbreak. Another victim, I surmised, of this godforsaken shutdown. The Brewgrille held for me twenty years of happy memories involving friends, good food and exciting sports competition played out on the big display screen. This seemed tantamount to the death of a close relative. Perhaps calling for a funeral?

Shaking my head and proceeding on homeward, I slipped into that “what’s-it-all-about-Alfie” frame of mind. And thoughts I’d previously broached began to redefine themselves, thoughts about meaning and purpose. Where, amid the turmoil, would we best seek guidance? What’s the true bedrock of living? What questions should we really be asking? And two topics that I’d visited in my mind before once again came to the forefront—what’s the “greatest commandment” and what’s the “greatest myth”? After all, we humans revere Biblical wisdom and (as Joseph Campbell pointed out) actually live myth.

If the Biblical Ten Commandments (and other religious variations thereof) are meant to outline guidance for life’s path, why do we humans persistently find ourselves veered off into the ditch? What if instead of ten, we would dedicate ourselves to, and follow, one commandment with absolute fidelity; which one would it be? (Remember, “loving your neighbor” wasn’t one of the originals, and sadly hasn’t a good record of practice.) Well, I’d nominate the last: “Thou shall not covet what thy neighbor possesses.” After lengthy consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the others really hang on that one. If it weren’t for envy, the human race might travel a far smoother road.

Just think about it. It’s nearly always some form of envy that leads to, let’s say, adultery (why does she deserve the hunkiest husband—why not me?). Or, disruption in the family (mom, you favor Johnny more than me, I hate you!). Or, theft (give me the money, I deserve it too). Or, murder (I want that, and you’re in my way). Or, lies (my promise for your vote [so I can get the power I really deserve]). Or, religious conflict (you think your religion is better than mine, I’ll show you!).

The insidious thing about envy is how one can actually fool one’s self by converting it into some “noble” cause. Why, I’m for the little guy, the downtrodden, so let’s level the playing field with punitive laws and redistribute the wealth via taxes and entitlements (from those who have it) to benefit that poor needy fellow (along with me, too). Yeah, that’s the ticket. Why, it’s only “fair.” And taxes aren’t stealing from the labor of others; they’re really a necessary institution for “the common good” (and no one is more common than I). And politicians aren’t really lying, rather they’re “creatively” advocating for benefits from the public trough to their constituents (including me). And historical wrongs, even centuries ago, call for recompense, even from the modern-day innocent (that is, if it’s my gain). Envy was really the “snake in the Garden of Eden,” when you come right down to it. And it led to Cain killing Abel—see what I mean?

And that leads into the question about myth—which one really can we learn the most from and apply its lesson today? Well, there’s quite a range from which to select: Theseus, Jason, Odysseus, Prometheus, on and on. However, the one I’d nominate would be the one concerning the Greek king Sisyphus. And here’s why.

It seems to me the decreed lot of Sisyphus—for eternity he must roll a stone up a mountain only to have it tumble back down to be rolled back up again—pretty much depicts the condition of all mankind. Picture if you will an elderly grandfather on his deathbed with his young grandson by his side. He has toiled all his life to acquire that peak of wisdom only age and experience can bring. Understanding and knowledge of pain, of despair, of war, of love, of hope, of hate, of fear, of male and female, of struggle, of failure, of success, of tears, of sweat, of song, and of truth—merely to have it all, upon the drawing of his last breath, vanish into oblivion. And the young boy then shouldering at the bottom of the mountain the heavy burden of living to reacquire it once more, across the years, only to have it all, at his demise, dissipate to nothingness yet again. Back to the bottom of the mountain.

It is for this reason, I believe, that mankind seems stuck on the treadmill of time and illusion. Oh yes, technology and science advance; however, human nature never really evolves. Each generation must relearn its “humanity” again and again. And are condemned to lose it over and over. I would challenge any skeptic of this observation to reread the Bible and Greek drama. Or for that matter, Shakespeare. The people and their plight are all the same, only the costumes change.

And so today we find ourselves in the midst of a global panic. What do we do; where do we turn? Whom can we trust? Whom should we blame? We flail about, turning republics into dictatorships. Throwing out babies with the bathwater. It’s all happened before; we just don’t remember. And it will all happen again. Ah humanity, you benighted buffoons, evermore pushing the rock up the mountain, the slaves of envy and death.