Death Musings on The Fourth of July

Death Musings on The Fourth of July

This morning I killed a cockroach. It didn't know it would die today in my condo, on the Fourth of July no less. Before I took its life, I mentally uttered a word of apology. It could still now be free roaming the world, enjoying sunshine and freedom and food and sex if it didn't invade my territory and pose a threat to my safety. 

When I was in my 20's, two writers exerted a great deal of influence on my views about Death. The first writer was Carlos Castañeda, a South American anthropologist turned New Age philosopher guru, who wrote a bunch of field works/"novels" ostensibly about magic and witchcraft, but actually a rehash of Buddhist thoughts in modern Western terminology. His first four books were good and readable. The subsequent books were just nonsensical mumbo-jumbo. Anyway, among his "teachings" I committed to memory was his exhortation that we must live with an idea that Death constantly watching us from our left, ready to pounce on us when we least expect it. Whenever we are in despair, we should turn to our left and we will hear Death say, "it's okay my friend, as long as I haven't touched you, you still have hope, you still can start things over again. So you must live your life to the brim, joyously and fearlessly." Castañeda enjoyed fame and fortune for a while, but he didn't practice moderation. He shacked up with a bunch of female admirers, suffered from diabetes, and died of cancer at the age of 72.  I enjoyed reading his prose when he didn't go into shamanistic bullshit. English was not his first language, but he managed to express himself---apparently unaided by editorial coaching,  unlike the fraud Jerzy Kosinski--- in crystal clear, articulate English. 

The second writer was Nietzsche who convinced me---as if I really needed much persuasion---that one must live life dangerously and when it comes to die, one must die a timely death. Life has no meaning without the presence of Death. 

Tonight there will be fireworks displays all over America, polluting the air and costing taxpayers billions of dollars so the mindless public would ooh and aah to the fleeting beauty in the sky in the dark of the night. The money could be used for social services. Human is really a strange animal, incomplete and self-conflicting.

Wissai
July 4, 2013