I grew up in a generation of wannabe hippies. (1) We had missed the full Haight-Ashbury, San Francisco revolution (1967) and its deep-seated protest to the Vietnam War (1955-1975). “The mainstream media’s coverage of hippie life in Haight-Ashbury drew the attention of youth from all over America. Hunter S. Thompson (2) labeled the district “Hashbury” in The New York Times Magazine, in reference to hashish usage. The “shocking” activities in the area were reported almost daily in the national press. The Haight-Ashbury district was sought out by young people eager to create a community based upon counterculture ideals (peace), drugs, and music. This neighborhood offered a concentrated gathering venue for people to create a social experiment that would, ideally, spread throughout the nation.” The movement failed, however, and soon began to cannibalize itself. An influx of hard drugs and violence (plus young people returning to university in the fall) soon changed the “vibe” of the region. (3)
Regardless, we still basked in its past aura: this was Canada after all. One of the more endearing aspects of the time was its use of language or our perceived use. Much like the Russian form of address, “comrade,” was an attempt to bond all professions and levels of education into one common, egalitarian society, the era attempted this phenomenon with a more personalized one: that being man. “How’s it going, man? What’s up, man? What’s happening, man?”
These were thoughtful times and each of us was being asked, figuratively, to embrace collectivism and look after our fellow human being. A schism fell over the earth, yet to be healed, in my estimation. Humanity embraced two groups: those who wanted to continue the old system of violence, power, and pain – all the while stating that they are highly devoted and religious – and those who wanted true peace. The individual being was placed against the Common Good. “Politics, according to the Social Doctrine of the Church, is one of the highest forms of charity, because it serves the Common Good. I cannot wash my hands, eh? We all have to give something!” (4) Do you think that the pope may have a little Canadian in him?
In my tiny village, we knew none of the complexities associated with man’s societal development, we simply wanted to belong. I grew my hair long and even put in an earring (now that was a story and a half). My hair is naturally curly, unfortunately, and, as I told my colleagues the other evening, I quickly looked like a toilet brush. I further took to lecturing my father on the evils of war. Now he had been a soldier for almost six years during World War Two: “he took one look” at me and my colleagues and saw nothing but sloth and dissoluteness – in his own son, no less. The apogee of my lexicon was presented when I attempted to address my father as he arrived home after work. It had been a long day and he was physically tired. Perhaps poor timing on my part, I now realize: plan your moments well, if you want to create an event: “Dad,” I began rather timidly, how are you, man?” There was a pause in the air, much like the time before a great storm. “Man, “he retorted, “Man! I am not a man: I am your father.” We were presented with a case of pure solipsism. The great visionary and philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951) leaves us with a thought: A picture held us captive. And we could not get outside it, for it lay in our language and language seemed to repeat it to us inexorably.
A closing thought: Last week, I wrote about happiness. Dr. Richard, a friend of mine, wants to remind us that there is a distinct difference between joy and happiness. “Joy versus happiness: Joy and happiness are wonderful feelings to experience, but are very different. It (joy) comes when you make peace with who you are, why you are and how you are — whereas happiness tends to be externally triggered and is based on other people, things, places, thoughts, and events.” This is a thoughtful explanation and requires reflection. Of major concern to me and most of humanity is this concept of peace. The word itself is overused and tired. The events of world history tell us that we, in fact, do not want peace. We want war, bloodshed, and pain. We need to find a new word: true non-violence (satyagraha), respect or acceptance could be “in the running” to replace the term. The Internet Generation (also known as the Millennial Generation) does not want war because it has, as of yet, few values. I wonder how the military-industrial complex will co-opt them into accepting the “war business.”
To sum up: This week we spoke about peace: how it was displayed artificially in the 1960s in California and how it really is. We further spoke about solipsism and the distinction between joy and happiness.
A sardonic encounter: The other evening, I was stopped at a police roadblock, yes, actually stopped, to check for alcohol consumption. The officer had a wand that looked like it was right out of Star Wars. He directed this at my mouth: neither a low nor a high reading – no reading. I caught that look in his eye: this old man is actually dead! I explained that I don’t drink alcohol, at all. This seemed to afford the correct explanation and he let me go – motorized coffin and all.
Just for fun – Claude Debussy
This week, please contemplate your own eternal search for peace.
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: In the end, justice will prevail and peace will come to the Earth.
Footnotes:
1) Hippie
3) Feeling the love in San Francisco
4) Pope Francis: The Catholic Insider (January 2015) A Good Catholic Meddles in Politics