Under the midday sun in the marketplace, people were bustling, merchants were competing, and the elegant marble fountain was bubbling. So Cyntisthenes, sitting alone on the stone steps with his chin resting on folded hands, looked decidedly out of place. To Mardysseus, he seemed outright dejected. Mardysseus approached him. "My good friend Cyntisthenes, why the grave expression?" he asked, sitting down beside him. "Are you deep in thought?" "I suppose," Cyntisthenes sighed. "No matter how deep I dig, I find no answers. Only a heavier burden of impenetrable darkness." "Perhaps what you are seeking is not a light in the darkness, Cyntisthenes, but rather something that must be revealed by bringing illumination to the darkness. Shall I not try to shed some light on your dilemma?" Mardysseus smiled. "If you seek to waste your time, I won't make you waste any more than you have to," Cyntisthenes replied. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "What is love, Mardysseus?" "There are several kinds," Mardysseus responded. "Is it my love for you as a friend? Is it the love of a mother and her child? The love between two brothers?" "Romance." "And why do you ask, dear friend?" "I feel like I am broken, or some curse of bad luck has fallen upon me, and I am either incapable of feeling love or forbidden from receiving it. My parents do not love each other. My friends speak of women only in terms of keeping score and physical attraction. In turn, the thread-spinning women, and the women washing clothes at the river, speak of men only in terms of their material possessions and social status. I'm starting to believe that there's nothing metaphysical or transcendent about love at all." "Hmmm... well, before we continue, we must get one thing straight: do you not feel sadness over the loss of a good friend? Over a family member? Do you not care deeply for their well being, as they do yours?" "I do," Cyntisthenes responded with a nod. "Then you are not incapable of feeling love, as it were. You are not a psychopath, or sociopath, and you are not broken, lest you would not be so distraught over your present situation," Mardysseus patted him on the back. "So what would you rather be the focus of the discussions; the people you overhear speaking about relationships?" "Well, it was my understanding, Mardysseus, that romantic love wasn't just about appearance, or money, or power, but about appreciating the morals and virtues and talents that somebody possesses. Having beliefs in common. Obviously there is no perfect match for anybody, but these aspects are completely forgotten it would seem in today's society. It's all so shallow and superficial. Even artificial." "Have you any evidence, Cyntisthenes?" "In fact, Mardysseus, you must know about the epidemic of women marrying just so they can be divorced, and in an ill-gotten fashion they take half of their ex-husband's wealth and property? And custody of any children? And you must know that the number of men committing adultery is at a height never before seen in our State, do you not?" "I am aware of both these things, Cyntisthenes," Mardysseus said frowning. His voice dropped very low. "It troubles me greatly." "If love is such a strong and integral bond, then certainly people who say they were in love could not be so flippant? The ultimatum my wife delivered me last night is that if we don't start seeing each other more often then she will cheat on me. How does one say something like that, after years of saying that she loves me? How does one see his wife more often, and at the same time work to provide her the wealth and status she desires?" "I am sorry, Cyntisthenes. It appears to me that you fall in love with the person, of which beauty is only a part of. I cannot answer for your wife, as I do not know her, and it is right to stay out of your private affairs. However, do you not grasp the rarity of what you're asking?" "How so?" "Cyntisthenes, beauty - if we're talking of the natural blessing - is unearned. In a society of undisciplined boys who want only sex, they will give up whatever it takes to get it. And so a woman of fortunate looks can go through life on them alone until their age catches up. At which point the woman, who is not spiritually developed, is uneducated, and has a bad personality, will be doomed." "That would explain why most of the young women I know are an absolute bore outside of the bedroom," Cyntisthenes remarked, and Mardysseus laughed. "There's that sense of humor." Cyntisthenes smiled weakly, but was still obviously pre-occupied and depressed. "What is one to do, Mardysseus, but give up?" "I cannot blame you for losing hope, my friend. You are young. These negative experiences are all you have known for your whole life, starting with your parents, and reflected in your friends and romantic interests. Even in media. It comes as no surprise to me. But it may come as a surprise to you that, when I was your age, things were very different. People were initially attracted by beauty, and status, it is true. They fell in love with the person, though. Their qualities, in spite of their flaws." Mardysseus got up. "Before I go, I will leave you with this. Romance is partly chemical. It has its shallows. Those who know not how to swim, will never go and explore for deeper meaning. You seek beauty not only externally, but also internally. But those who know they are beautiful on the outside, will rarely ever have to improve their minds and souls until it is too late. You do not ask for too much, Cyntisthenes. Every man deserves a woman beautiful at every level, just as every woman deserves a man who is not only of high wealth and status, but who has attained that wealth and status by living rightly, and greatly. You do not ask for too much. You ask for what is, unfortunately, becoming less and less common, to the detriment of us all. And your options are to either search to the end of the earth like the last Barbary lion looking for a worthy dame, or to throw away your chances and set your current situation in stone. Your fate may very well be the same, regardless of which you choose."
Just finished reading The Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi, translated by William Scott Wilson. Included in it were 21 precepts that Musashi wrote only days before his death; they take up only two pages in the ~100 page book. At first I wondered why they were included, until I quickly realized that the precepts are the irreducible, atomized points of the "Way" which are further expanded upon by Musashi in this work. These precepts were called The Way of Walking Alone (or The Way of Self-Reliance). Below are two different translations that seem to be, after a quick Google, the most popular and widely accepted. The first picture is the William Scott Wilson translation. Now, whenever I finish a book I like to explore it by writing about it. In the case of The Rommel Papers this included a review and a couple articles in which I reflected on specific parts of the text. It seems to me that it isn't just enough to read something, as the words tend to go in one ear and out the other. Nothing sticks. But taking a more active approach and applying myself means I can genuinely take something away from the reading. The benefit for you is that I might, by some stroke of luck, make you interested enough to either read the book for yourself, partake in the discussion, or be mildly entertained by my musings. - Precept 1 - Translation 1: "Do not turn your back on the various ways of this world." Translation 2: "Accept everything just the way it is." I won't ponder which translation is more accurate, but I think there's something good to be said about both. Regarding the former translation, I think of how turning your back to the truth will come back to haunt you. I do not think the latter translation means that one shouldn't try to make change in the world. Rather, if one is to bring about change, they must first come to terms with their present reality. Otherwise you're like a child hitting buttons and flipping switches at random in order to try and fly an F-16. You know what you want to do, but not how to do it, and chances are you will either fail to do anything significant or you will create chaos. - Precept 2 - Translation 1: "Do not scheme for physical pleasure." To me, scheme has a negative connotation. When I read this I think of abusing drugs, or using people for selfish hedonism (as a sexual object, for their wealth, etc.) Translation 2: "Do not seek pleasure for its own sake." While there's nothing wrong with finding pleasure in things, only doing that which is pleasurable leads down dark paths as far as I can tell. Pleasure should come about from truly rewarding experiences, like overcoming challenges or even taking on responsibilities such as marriage and raising children. Pleasure should be sought through effort and discipline, but understand that it is not the ultimate objective or the defining characteristic of a good life. I also couldn't help but make a connection to "Pleasure Island" from Pinocchio, where the kids slowly become asses, extorted and enslaved. Or as Juvenal said, "Give them bread and circuses and they'll never revolt." - Precept 3 - Translation 1: "Do not intend to rely on anything." Translation 2: "Do not, under any circumstances, depend on a partial feeling." It's only natural that if one is to be self-reliant that they do not rely on anybody or anything. However, the second translation goes as far as to say a "partial feeling", and I struggled to make sense of this. The best I've managed, is that any feeling is partial insofar as it is incomplete. So unless you are certain of your feelings, one ought not rely on them. Instead, I think that feelings are more useful for informing you when there is uncertainty that requires further investigation. To tie this to the previous precept, the feeling of pleasure is also partial in terms of being biased. Do not favor pleasure simply because it feels good, or for "pleasure's sake". This can blind you to things that need to be done but are unpleasant, or it can hinder one from making progress if the pleasure is not attained through instant-gratification, and instead has to be earned. More pleasure is felt from knowing you are making progress towards a goal, rather than from attaining the goal. - Precept 4 - Translation: "Consider yourself lightly; consider the world deeply." (second translation basically identical) I must often remind myself to not take myself too seriously. I am the main character in my story, but I am a supporting character in that of others. Rarely I can be an antagonist. Mostly, I'm an extra. And usually? Not included or mentioned. Every hero starts out as a fool. Sometimes, the hero still is the fool. - Precept 5 - Translation 1: "Do not ever think in acquisitive terms." Translation 2: "Be detached from desire your whole life long." Easier said than done. At first I thought of greed. But I see now how I did not delve deeply enough. Alan Watts goes into great detail about the double-bind we all face here, which is desiring to stop desiring. This makes me wonder: Why is it bad to desire in the first place? Doesn't it depend on what you desire? - Precept 6 - Translation 1: "Do not regret things about your own personal life." Translation 2: "Do not regret what you have done." Another lesson I could really benefit from taking to heart. It's meaning is multi-fold. Implicitly it seems to be saying that one ought to act in a way that would give you no reason for regret. More literally, if you are regretting something from your past, you cannot move on. You cannot be in harmony with the present moment. And if you have regrets, that means you have not learned from those mistakes, which is perhaps the biggest regret of all. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that the dots are often connected backwards more than they are forwards. We know the what and how before we get the why. The Chinese farmer story comes to mind. His horse runs away, but brings back more wild horses. However, one of the wild horses breaks the leg of the farmer's son. What a shame right? But then the conscription officers come around, and they do not take his son now because of his broken leg. All the while when the fellow villagers ask if these events are good or bad, the farmer simply says, "We will see." - Precept 7 - Translation 1: "Do not envy another's good or evil." Translation 2: "Never be jealous." To be envious or jealous would mean breaking the first and fifth precepts. The most peculiar thing about this is the "or evil". Maybe it means that you should not seek to possess the capability for doing evil. As in, wishing to have no conscience so as to con others, or commit murder, as just a couple of many examples. - Precept 8 - Translation 1: "Do not lament parting on any road whatsoever." Translation 2: "Never let yourself be saddened by a separation." This relates to the third precept, which says not to rely on anything (and I extended that to "or anybody"). As well, it's a fitting principle for a way of self-reliance. This idea of separation does not only apply to people, but it applies to places too. Separation is not always permanent. Places and people may be returned to, and if not, then that means they have played their part, and you should not prevent future places and people from playing theirs. - Precept 9 - Translation 1: "Do not complain or feel bitterly about yourself or others." Translation 2: "Resentment and complaint are appropriate neither for oneself nor others." This relates to precepts one, six, and seven. Jealousy would certainly lead to complaint and resentment. Regret could certainly do the same. And so could not accepting the way things are. It's not only unattractive to behave this way, but it prevents you from finding solutions. I can only change myself. I must constantly remind myself of this, or else risk disappointment. I can recommend change to others, and show them where they may be going wrong, but I have no control over them. I should not expect to fix anything but myself, so that I can lead by example and naturally influence those around me. - Precept 10 - Translation 1: Have no heart for approaching the path of love. Translation 2: Do not let yourself be guided by the feeling of lust or love. Probably the precept that I have the greatest problem with. After much thinking, I've concluded that the "Way of Walking Alone" is not something that must be walked permanently, and at all times. Instead it is a path that all of us, at one point or another, will find ourselves on. Or a path we will need to eventually choose in order to get ourselves out of a quagmire. Perhaps this precept should also not be taken so literally. Instead I interpret it as saying that lust or love cannot guide you by themselves. It isn't practical. They are forces which become dangerous when out of balance in that manner. To fall in love is to take on the risk with courage. - Precept 11 - Translation: "Do not have preferences." (alternate translation is basically the same) To prefer one thing over another can be stifling and prevent one from being as versatile and adaptable as they otherwise could be. To hold preferences, one must consciously accept and know that they are compromising their versatility and adaptability. Of course, one can also argue that simply having a preference does not mean it is impossible for them to do otherwise. But it can certainly lead to disappointment. - Precept 12 - Translation 1: "Do not harbor hopes for your own personal home." Translation 2: "Be indifferent to where you live." It's...
To start with a focus on the positive, classes went well! I found them without trouble, although I'll definitely be needing an umbrella as the walk for one of them is about 5 minutes. The professors seem very reasonable and helpful. Both the journalism and the English professor handed out their respective syllabuses, which outline all 16 weeks of the course. Convenient. I'm already building a head start on the reading. It's actually pretty enjoyable work. I committed to helping a guy named Bob in my journalism class. He was telling the professor after class that he didn't have the required textbook. I didn't hear or ask why. From the little bit I spent talking to him he seems like a good guy; even said he'd pay me for going out of my way to photo-copy the textbook for him. Looks like I'll be spending at least a solid few hours tomorrow doing that. But I think I've made a friend, which will be useful. And it probably looked good in front of the professor, although that wasn't part of the conscious decision. Texted Bob that he can sit by me from now on if he wants, so I can share the physical textbook with him in the meantime, and work together on assignments. Alas, where would we be without Life? Long-story short, I can count on the bestfriend of my ex-girlfriend walking by me at least once every Monday and Wednesday. Long-story long: The first time we walked past one another, I pretended more or less to not notice her. Don't know if she noticed me. The second time was unavoidable, since I have to stand outside the classroom until the students-of-the-class-before-me have all left. With the way the hallway bends I was looking right in her direction, and she was looking in mine, so inevitably eye-contact was made and before I realized my mistake and could look away, she'd already said hi to me. It seemed like a really... meh, I can't really say hostile. It definitely wasn't friendly. Uncertain, I guess? My response was about the same. "What's up." With a "smile" that looks something like this face: In other words, the type of response I tend to give to strangers. A room-temperature shoulder. A flood of emotions rushed through me, and only half of them have to do with her directly. It's taken me a long time - years - to unravel this sensation into each individual feeling, and then figure out the reasoning beyond each one of them. Let's start with the first half that are about my ex-girlfriend--in other words, everything that her bestfriend reminded me of. It reminded me of the embarrassment and stupidity of trying to get back together with her after a year. I remembered how cold I was when I told her we can't be friends, while at the same time paradoxically remembering that the reason we can't be friends is because I can't help how strongly I still feel. And part of me felt like her bestfriend could see right through me when she saw me, because she already knows all about it. Which isn't a good feeling. I mean, I know I didn't act malevolently and really my mistakes were just made out of hopeless romanticism and ignorance, but still. And of course, this person who I'll continue referring to as "ex-girlfriend's bestfriend" might as well be an angel on earth. I don't say that lightly; I'm agnostic. I just really have never cast my eyes on a more beautiful looking person, and in her presence - especially under her gaze - I feel thoroughly judged. Lady Justice without the blindfold. Not to mention that she's a really good person as far as I'm aware, with a great personality. Yet there's some masochistic element at play here. I refuse to hide, or walk a different way to class. Maybe that's only because I know doing either of those things would just make me weaker. I don't like the flood of emotions. The turbulence in my stomach, the kick to the groin, the punch to the gut, the nervousness, the sudden weakness and tingling, the anxiety of feeling like my past will never let me leave its web, mixed with the frustration of having a carrot dangled in front of my face that I can never have. From now on when I stand outside waiting for the class to start, I'll deploy the earbuds. I seriously can't let this barrage of emotion that ruined high-school for me, also ruin college. And here I thought I'd finally escaped its clutches. I can keep running but I guess I can't hide.
I already knew what would happen and still I sat there by myself in theater 12, holding back tears. Once I walked out of AMC and crossed the parking-lot to my car, that's when I cried. Just like the previous four times. "Your Name" is an anime film about a guy and girl who switch bodies temporarily, and figuring out the meaning of that is what brings them together. There's more to it but I don't want to spoil anything. This fifth and final viewing was different though, because I finally asked myself "why". Both characters wonder the same thing, each at their own respective part during the story when they themselves are crying. Doesn't sound too inspirational yet but stay with me. All I could come up with then were the obvious reasons. I was crying because guys tend to always keep it bottled up until there's finally a moment they can let it out, alone. And what was I bottling up? Missing my ex-girlfriend. Loneliness. Anxiety. Fear. Regret. Resentment. In that order. After thinking about it a lot since then, I realized there was something else beneath the surface: I wasn't jaded anymore. The anesthesia was lifted, and even though that meant I felt every punch and cut that used to be numbed, now I remembered what it felt like to be alive too. I didn't believe in finding love anymore, and I still don't. This rebirth, however, provided me with a new purpose: to help others find it. Nothing in my life says I've ever known, or will ever know, love. I know lust. Desire. Hips that make you say wow and faces that still have a couple decades left before the expiration date. It's way too late for me; it wasn't meant to be; doomed from the start; destined to fall apart- there's many different ways I can put it. And so I quarantine myself. I'm not patient zero, but I also don't want blood on my hands. What I mean, is now I see it as my personal responsibility to keep others from going down this path. One of selfishness and perpetual discontent. Prevent others from making the same blunders I have, not by telling them what to do but by telling them what not to do. Or if they've fallen, to help them get back on their feet before the point of no return, by offering them a hand of forgiveness, an embrace of understanding, and words of advice. I've given up on myself but I won't give up on you, because I discovered the reason I cried was twofold. The first was feeling sorry for myself. The second was being happy for somebody else. Even if that somebody else was a fictitious character. I don't just hope love will find you. I have faith that it will because I've seen it happen to those around me, and because "Your Name" convinced me it's out there. Faith is what remains when you have all the reasons not to believe but you keep clinging onto that elusive something. It's for the times when there's no evidence to support your belief, or even evidence to the contrary. In any case, love didn't find me, so logic dictates it must have gone to somebody else. We're all a work in progress and I see a statue of David in you. Every chip taken out of you by the universe's chisel is nothing more than the bittersweet touch of a divine craftsman, shaping you into the best you can be. Yet even the gods among men, like Michelangelo, made mistakes when they were honing their craft. So I'll bear the embarrassment and be the example you can learn from. Armed with that experience, you'll realize your full potential. A masterpiece deserving of the love it will inevitably receive, rather than love it tried to take.
The Rommel Papers are the incomplete memoirs of senior military commander Erwin Rommel that avoided burning by the author himself while under investigation by the gestapo, and remained hidden with the cooperation of friends and family after Hitler forced him to commit suicide on the grounds of suspected treason. Kept safe from the hands of the Nazis and Soviets, and recovered from their secret locations or American possession following the culmination of the Second World War, Captain Liddell-Hart along with Paul Findlay have done a great justice helping bring Rommel's remarkable story to publication. From his exploits in France, to his daring feats in Africa that earned him stardom and prestige; infamy that would just as quickly be stripped from him by his fellow colleagues and jealous peers amidst the hunt for a scapegoat; and leading up to the tragic final days recalled by his son Manfred. Paul Findlay's translation succeeds not just in accuracy, but in ensuring the life and voice of the author are preserved. Rich in detail, Rommel takes the reader along for a lucid and gripping journey, allowing active access to the military mastermind and the personal letters of a loving husband and father. One can feel the weight of every decision and the impact on the loyal soldiers under his command. It can't be helped to bond with him during the heart-racing close-calls that led to his nickname: The Desert Fox. And readers are not the only ones enamored by these exotic African escapades. "Moreover, Rommel became much more than a bogey to the British. Awe for his dynamic generalship developed into an almost affectionate admiration for him as a man... fostered by the way that he maintained in African warfare the decencies of the soldierly code, and by his own chivalrous behavior towards the many prisoners of war he met in person. He became the hero of the Eighth Army who were fighting against him -- to such an extent that... when wanting to say that someone had done a good job of any kind on their own side, to describe it as "doing a Rommel". (Liddell-Hart, page '3' of Introduction) Editor B.H. Liddell-Hart has outdone himself providing footnotes where necessary for clarification, or cross-analyses with other accounts like Montgomery's that serve both to legitimize as well as correct Rommel's story. Such mistakes made by Rommel are not due to "intentions to falsify the balance-sheet" (Liddell-Hart, page '1' of Introduction) as in the cases of Napoleon and Caesar, but instead are the result of working with limited information and using that to make conjectures and educated estimates that he did not have the opportunity to revisit. Even so, a shocking amount of Rommel's guesswork and Zoltar-esque theorizing ultimately comes true. Over the course of the war we watch his hopes crumble and his fears become reality as he struggles against fate itself, most of it unfolding before his demise, the rest in hind-sight. With this knowledge in mind, I can't help but wonder how differently the war may have turned out had he been listened to and granted more control. Maybe blunders such as Stalingrad, the fall of Africa, and the Italian debacle could've been avoided had he been given the trust he deserved. Maybe now in that alternate universe I'd be writing auf Deutsch about "The Churchill Chronicles". His conflict with both Hitler and Mussolini are best distilled in Sun Tzu's "Art of War", where it states that interference from the sovereign in the execution of a battle spells inevitable defeat for the functionally hindered general. We observe this play out like a broken record in Rommel's memoirs, where supply quotas fall short over and over, while more and more is increasingly expected of him and his men who must figure out how to obey suicidal orders from the Fuhrer. Orders that would be the beginning of the end for Rommel's loyalty to Hitler. From the outset, Liddell-Hart establishes himself as a reliable source, demonstrating prior to the beginning of Rommel's story that he is well-read on the subject of military history. This continued approach bolsters the overall objectivity of the work with an additional wealth of information and perspective, solidifying the integrity of The Rommel Papers on the whole. It's partly thanks to this -- and also thanks to trustworthy contributions made by Rommel's close subordinate Fritz Bayerlein, and son Manfred Rommel -- that I strongly recommend history buffs, World War II geeks, and those who are researching military philosophy should pick up this gem. Its impartial execution on behalf of Findlay and Liddell-Hart is worthy of high praise, and of course Rommel's shared tactical and strategical genius, and wisdom regarding what qualities constitute great men -- in addition to his faults and mistakes laid bare -- offers a lot to be learned. As with most of history, there is debate as to the true motivations and intentions that were the driving forces behind the Desert Fox. What exactly was his involvement in the 20 July Plot, an assassination attempt on Hitler? It's clear that Rommel had some sort of contact and sympathies with many of those involved, although the specifics and extent of this is uncertain. On the contrary, he was also openly critical of the whole ordeal, but could that have been to cover for himself? Liddell-Hart does not avoid these murky territories that would most certainly have a huge impact on Rommel's image, but he makes sure to specify what little is known compared to the great amount of conjecture. If nothing else, Rommel wielded the pen like he did the sword, as can be seen from the passage "On the way we saw the bodies of several British soldiers lying beside some destroyed anti-tank guns. Arabs had plundered the bodies and robbed them of their clothing. There was nothing to be seen of these ghouls, which was fortunate for them, for they would otherwise have had something to remember us by." (Rommel, 406). He blitzkriegs his t's, fausts his i's, and unlike myself still manages the rare stroke of humor. Thanks to first-rate translation and editing, Rommel's compelling tale will pull you into the backseat of his command vehicle and have you cheering on and sympathizing with a human being fighting on the wrong side for what so far appear to be the right reasons, winning the hearts of friend and foe alike; preserving in ink the honor of his fellow men who died serving their country first and an ideology second, and their view of the events that shaped our world today. --- Rommel, Erwin, Fritz Bayerlein, and Manfred Rommel. The Rommel Papers. Ed. Basil Henry Liddell-Hart. Trans. Paul Findlay. 15th ed. New York: Da Capo, 2003. Print.
Gather around, ladies and gentlemen. It's story-time with Uncle Rommel! In seriousness, there's much to glean from "The Rommel Papers". If you're unfamiliar please feel free to check out my review of it here first. Approaching these memoirs from just a historical or military angle is to miss the insights on life and human nature. What I will be grappling with here is a specific contrast Rommel makes between professors of economics and businessmen, found on page 288. "There often occurred to me the difference between the Professor of Economics and the businessman, as judged by their financial success. The businessman may not perhaps be on the same intellectual plane as the professor, but he bases his ideas on real facts and puts the whole power of his will behind their realization. The professor, on the other hand, often has a false conception of reality and although perhaps having more ideas, is neither able nor anxious to carry them out; the fact that he has them is satisfaction enough. And so the businessman has the greater financial success." Before we go on, it's necessary to understand why Rommel is even talking about this. So to put it into relevant context, he continues. "The same difference can often be found between the academic and fighting soldier. One of the most important factors - not only military matters, but in life as a whole - is the power of execution, the ability to direct one's whole energies towards the fulfillment of a particular task. The officer of purely intellectual attainments is usually only fitted for work as an assistant on the staff; he can criticize and provide material for discussion. But a conclusion intellectually arrived at needs the executive power of the commander to follow it up and force it to realization." I'll begin by saying I disagree with his conclusion that "the businessman has the greater financial success" as if it were guaranteed. Had he said "can have" I'd take no issue with it. That's just the nature of a high risk / high reward strategy, compared to a profession like teaching that tends to pay a set salary. Rommel is correct, however, that a key factor at play here is executive ability. As the cliche goes, we need a man who can get things done. "The professor... often has a false conception of reality..." His ideas are suited for a vacuum, a scientific lab, where there's complete control over the environment and any variables can be isolated, changed, or removed on a whim. That's what people mean when they say Marxism works on paper but not in practice. In a setting where all the stars and planets align, literally anything could work. But the real world doesn't work like that, and so he is not 'able' to reconcile with cold reality. And Rommel's use of 'anxious' is similar to desire. It's a lot of effort to bring dreams to fruition. That leads us to Rommel's point: knowledge is not power without execution. This is an important distinction to make. Dramatic irony - when the audience knows something a character does not - isn't power. Such knowledge does not allow the audience to change the outcome of the play. Blackmail on the other hand is power indeed. Knowledge by itself is nothing more than potential energy. Similarly, an executioner is useless without something or somebody to execute. He is the catalyst that transforms the potential into kinetic. Rommel hinted at this relationship. To reiterate, "an officer of purely intellectual attainments is usually only fitted for work as an assistant on the staff... a conclusion intellectually arrived at needs the executive power of the commander to follow it up and force it to realization." There you have the process coming full circle. The professor provides various economic theories as lenses to see through, laws which serve as foundations to build on, and tools to work with. Then the businessman acquires that knowledge and puts it to use. Reading books isn't going to get you a house in the Hollywood hills with a new Lamborghini in the garage. What really matters is what you do with what you've learned. Reflect on the reading. Apply one lesson to your life. Challenge yourself to be a better person every day. The price Rommel payed for his wisdom was committing suicide to protect his family. The price I paid for that wisdom was nothing more than a little time and money well-spent. A lifetime of experience packaged into a mere couple weeks for our benefit. That's the potential of exponential growth.
An important thing to remember is that threat of punishment cannot strip you of your natural freedom. You have the liberty to do whatever you want. But we've decided that certain things are not permissible for the sake of maintaining a functioning order. Choose to exercise the freedom to take away freedom, and you'll be punished for doing so. Yet you still have the option to do it in the first place. Such is the necessary risk we all take in having the gift of free-will. There will always be consequences for your actions, but that doesn't mean your freedom is being taken away necessarily. Not yet. We channel - we guide - our inherit freedom like "water". Everybody has their own amount of this liquidized freedom, and therefore we have by default the right to choose what we subject it to. There are benefits to channeling our freedom through the systems of society, enjoying the give-and-take of relationships that take on many different forms. Letting it roar like a river in pursuit of your happiness and eroding away obstacles, seeking the path of least resistance. Freedom has the same quality. Be free my friends. Of course, along with society comes the necessary evil of law and order. And there are also dangers. Traps. Sometimes you might run your freedom through the 9-to-5 machine; an engine that always needs fueling and cooling because it can't dare to stop running, lest civilization itself shuts-down. Leave your "water" in there for too long and it will evaporate before your eyes. Lubricant needs changing eventually. Let new blood in rather than circulating yourself through office cubicles forever. Relationships are great, but one day you might find that your partner's water is more like oil. Always taking top-priority. Or they might freeze your water. Poison it. Turn off your faucet. Rather than a beautiful dance, it turns into a hierarchical fight for control. Even your own father may be tyrannical, or your mother a cosseter, restricting your freedom into a shrinking container that will burst at the seams from the pressure... if you resist. Unfortunately there seems to be fewer and fewer people with the spirit to resist these days, and their freedom can be confined to a small box, forgotten about in the back of a dark closet. Wrapped in a package and sold to a business, a bank, a politician, or an ideology. Don't sell your water. Freedom is priceless! Lend some of it, share some of it, but never let it be stolen. Be the arbiter. Still some may say, "You're not allowed to do *this* because *that* will happen, so we're not really free anyway." This is a terrible mistake, for you're surrendering your natural-born freedom by making it dependent upon an additional, artificial limitation - an unnatural pre-requisite - when freedom should mean independent. By saying that, you're just convincing yourself of the lie that you cannot be free so long as 'x' is a consequence of 'y'. As if the presumed result that has not even occurred yet is literally, physically preventing you from doing the present action. In other words: you're allowing the future to determine your present. This is no way to live. That being said, what if the full sentence instead was, "You're not allowed to do what's right, because you'll be killed." That's exactly what The White Rose faced in Nazi Germany, like the millions of other residents at the time. Very few of them made the brave decision that those kids and their professor did. To stand up for what's right in spite of death. Most aren't willing to pay that price, because they value life over freedom. I believe living is worthless without freedom though. If you're not free, you're already dead. Madison was more than likely referring to government specifically, but this applies to any authority, and can even apply to those seeking power. In most cases, a great deal of events have to happen before the price of freedom becomes "Your Life". So many times the danger can be seen from miles away. Yet you know the adage: give a man an inch and he'll take a mile. It's a slippery slope, especially considering nowadays we like to sacrifice inches of freedom for a little "safety" or inches of justice for a little "equality". It sets a bad precedent. A word you're not allowed to say anymore, becomes a thought you're not allowed to have anymore, which turns into a belief you're not allowed to hold anymore, and a person you're not allowed to be anymore. The opposite is also true; take what's happening in Canada for example, with Bill C-16. Pronouns you must use, become thoughts you must think, from leaders you must obey, otherwise you're not the person you're told you must supposedly be... a "good citizen". As humans we're very adaptive when it comes to our environment and making the necessary sacrifices. We're also very good at changing our environment to fit our needs, for better or for worse. However, we can build tolerance to the wrong things. As the Greek philosopher Aristotle once said, "Tolerance and apathy are the last virtues of a dying society." Our freedom is not something to sacrifice. If you are not willing to give up your life for liberty, you'd do damn well to make sure it never gets to that point.