Sometimes you get a very dull morning, and the lights on 'the shed' are on and seem brighter than they should be. This was one of those mornings.
Rather than bore you with my writing this morning, I want to revisit a moment early on in one of my all time favourite reads, Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. It concerns an argument between Yossarian (the hero of the tale), and Clevinger (one of the hero's foils), about the risks invloved in daylight bombing missions:
“They’re trying to kill me,” Yossarian told him calmly.
”No one’s trying to kill you,” Clevinger cried.
”Then why are they shooting at me?” Yossarian asked.
”They’re shooting at everyone,” Clevinger answered. “They’re trying to kill everyone.”
”And what difference does that make?”
I'm with Yossarian here, and think that the point translates well into other spheres of human interaction.
That's not to say that I dislike Clevinger though. I've always liked him as a character. That said, as a similarly pragmatic fellow, I think that Yossarian is spot on when he observes:
"As always occurred when he quarreled over principles in which he believed passionately, he would end up gasping furiously for air and blinking back bitter tears of conviction. There were many principles in which Clevinger believed passionately. He was crazy."
I know a lot of people like Clevinger. I think they're crazy too, most of the time.
Comments
The crazy comes into it when you assume a position, and solidify that position that any evidence to the contrary is regularly dismissed out of hand.
This discussion reflects the post's central theme that rigid adherence to principles, much like the character Clevinger, can sometimes be a fundamental flaw in one's life philosophy. The exchange suggests that a balanced approach—having core values while keeping an open mind—is the most practical way to navigate the world.