After finish writing this post, I realized that he could look like a sermon and a sermon addressed by name to Marie-Thérèse Bouchard and some of its commentators. I'm not going to rewrite it to not risk offending "sensitivities", then I say once: this is not my intention. I do not want to give a lesson of life to anyone. Everyone sees the world and ways to confront it in its own way: this is mine.
Today, I went to read the latest post Marie-Thérèse Bouchard I only took over the blog for a while. She writes lyrics that I found very good, and of course it was nice to see a girl in my generation "réacosphère" (if it is one, but I am well placed to know that it perfectly possible). But for a long period, the messages no longer interested me. And indeed, his last message does not interest me much either. She draws a gallery of characters who may be thin and acerbic, but here it is: I do not frequent false-cathos trades. I do not go to students from leading business schools. Small anarchists who do AG? Yes I can see better, and it's been a while myself, I caricature for the sake of my comrades.
She speaks a little of students and teachers of literature and other humanities, and that's a subject I know well. Is there an ideological formatting? Sure. Is this is a bunch of morons without culture, without spirit, without passion? No. Especially among those in bac +3 or +4. Is it that despite everything, there are students, professors whom I despise? Sure. But I'm like that, a little contemptuous. Despite this, I want to defend what I've known: teachers of great culture, preoccupied the success of their students, dismayed by the state of education (which was formerly the "Instruction", reminded us one day one of them) in France. Students who face a daunting and future prospects disgusting, and despite that want to read, listen, learn, understand.
But I'm not here to defend my university chapel. Each meeting students and teachers he wants or may all judge them as he wishes.
I wanted to write because of the word "indifference" that I found in the speech of Maria Theresa and several of its commentators. The indifference, his reasons (the poor French, the futility of the struggle), consequences (exile, abandoning moral).
How is it possible that I am as much in opposition to that speech? Yet, I'm indifferent too. Really. I do not care. What happens. What will happen.
I have two opposite poles. It is my microcosm: my family, my friends, my favorite works. My life. My kids someday. Nothing else matters for me. The world can disappear in flames - I do not care in the world.
And there is the macrocosm: the universe, the immensity of time and space. Not God, maybe if there was a God, it would change things, but even if there is one in the universe, there are none in my head. For me, the universe is what infinite void, that inspires this reaction in general: we are nothing. Nothing matters.
Amidst this, there's my culture, my continent, my language, my culture, my people. Much larger than the bubble privileged that I want to protect at all costs. So much smaller than the universe. But it's my world, and it is important to me because it is in this world I want to raise my children, and they raise their children. It is important because my ancestors that I wanted to live, and I protect him. And because, yes, I love him deeply. My parents thought we raise no religion: they were wrong. Books, namely, the Western genius was their religion, even if they did not know. And I will defend it all as a faithful defends his church: but if I have to choose between my family and my temple, the choice is made.
a large scale, nothing matters. On the scale of my life, there are only a handful of people and books that are important. This contradiction remains in my mind constantly, and it's relation to it that I weigh everything.
At that stage I imagine that many have already stopped reading me, and among those who remain, many stare at me wondering what I drank, and others seeing me sigh charge such platitudes .
These are indeed philosophical platitudes, but the practical application of this philosophy is very useful, very practical. Simple: Now, each new disgrace that I hear about every new absurdity that I see around me, makes me laugh. It makes me laugh because it does not matter. In a century we have lost everything for which we fought is dead and buried. Either we win, and these terrible injustices, this grotesque propaganda, will surprise or amuse readers of the twenty-second century. In one case in the other, all this will soon be more important.
So of course, all this is neither theoretical nor fun for the girl of 12 who was raped and that the assailant took 5 years with 2 suspended. But I think we have the right to laugh, no, we must laugh. We must laugh contemptuously, angrily, and with indifference.
Laughter is not a trivial thing: it is an indispensable weapon to support life, to face the world, and keep his health mental. The world has always been ugly, the world has always been horrible, cruel, disappointingly mediocre. Living has always been a pain. And it has long advocated that men the solution I am advocating for my turn to enjoy the beauty that we can and laugh at everything.
is what I could say in one sentence, but he had to explain the indifference is a good thing, because it brings calm. The detachment is essential because it helps to laugh - or rather, laughter allows the detachment.
If the indifference you are still angry, it seems that something is wrong.
Because if you're indifferent, you give up is your choice. But not mine.
Who knows what will swing things? No idea. But they will switch. They still rock. In the sense that we hope? Maybe not. We can be indifferent, yet putting up posters, distributing leaflets, prepare election struggle. We can be indifferent and yet, as I do, try again to speak, denounce, analyze, laugh and make people laugh. Maybe, just maybe, we can save the world (or rather, give him a reprieve). This world does not matter and that is everything.
Despite the last paragraph, when I talk about "abandon", I do not mean the act of abandoning the political struggle (in any form whatsoever). I speak not because of exile (whether in another country or in a quiet corner of France). Pass first time, its fun, its security, its close: it's quite what I advocate.
I'm talking about interior renunciation, existential, total. This resignation expressed by Marie-Therese at the conclusion of his message, and certainly that many share.
What do you fear? To be ridiculous? We all are. To no avail? Sure. Of defeat? The defeat did not matter. You've discovered
indifference, I congratulate you. Stop whining, and laugh a little now.
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