Now I understand the hatred Christians have for the black-hearted atheist fools like me. It is less a hatred than a contemptuous pity, a pitiful contempt. I understand this because it's the same way I see most people too. Don't they understand that they are committing a deplorable sin with every breath? Don't they understand that there will be no joy in their empty, petty lives? I find myself using the same rhetoric the Christians use towards me, because no word short of sin can be used, and the very same eternal fate is at stake. This is more than a matter of religious belief; it is a matter of identity, morality, and destiny. Who we are, how we should live, and what is the point of it all. Is that religion? It needs not invoke a relationship with the supernatural or divine, so I would not venture to call it a religious matter. However, Malinowski's functonalist definition states that whatever institution serves to answer those questions about morality and destiny is religion. So do we define religion by its characteristics, or by the function it serves? By Malinowski's definition, I am fundamentally religious.
This is the shape of my world, and this is how I answer those questions: Where did we come from? Who am I? How ought I to live? What is the point of all this? All this existence... it is the pursuit of perfection. The answer to all four is the pursuit of perfection. Not much detail is necessary, but this very simple concept is essential to my understanding of existence. It's almost a Darwinian thought process. Consider biological evolution. Every species, every ecosystem is constantly in pursuit of perfection, and in a continuous state of change. But somewhere in that change is a stability, a perfection for that time and place and set of selective circumstances. It requires change, adaptation, and especially diversity. Whatever species were perfect for their ecosystem 10 million years ago, would not be perfect now. The same concept can be applied beyond biology. The same economic, political, and social structures that functioned perfectly for a split second a thousand years ago would not work today, nor would ours work then, or in a different society. After all, society is an ecosystem of its own. I would apply the same to an individual. Perfection is not an ultimate goal, nor a permanent state to be achieved, nor is it by any means universally consistent. So what ideal are we to pursue? Consider the endless billions of possibilities for life that could exist but don't. The very fact that each of us is here, that each thing exists the way it does, is a sort of perfection. Every other possibility somehow fell short, and was incapable of survival in this time and place. Life itself is perfection. We are the elect, we are the chosen, by the simple fact that we exist, we've passed the test. This idea has given me new respect for humanity, and for all life. For that reason, every person, no matter how wretched and grotesque a heathen they may act, has earned the right to exist.
Thus we've reached the origin of my simultaneous contempt for too much of humanity. These lazy, ignorant savages can't see that they have sinned against existence, against humanity, and against themselves. You are perfect, start acting like it. It is a pity, but it is worse than that. Their lives are a waste of that perfection. Their genetic composition and social position saw fit to grant them with a perfectly functioning mind and body, and grant them every need for survival and success. And they waste it all. They waste that potential to pursue perfection in some useful endeavor. If a thing can be done, then it can be done perfectly. Why pursue anything less than that? Why pursue mediocrity? It doesn't matter really what endeavor, because diversity and change are essential, but why not pursue perfection? I see this as sinful on the same level that Christians see transgretions of their faith. It violates what I see as our ultimate identity and purpose. I see it as an insult to humanity and to existence, much as blasphemy is an insult to God. They are so like children, ignorant and simple, blind to the light. How can I condemn children? Their ignorance is innocent. Or is it? It's almost like Original sin, this notion that we, though created in the image of perfection, inevitably fall short of that grace. It's easier to believe there's nothing we can do about that; it lets us off the hook and gives us an excuse to settle for mediocrity. We're all guilty. From birth we're all black-hearted fools, guilty to our very core of falling short of our rightful providence. By nothing but the divine grace of existence are we unworthy wretches held above the abyss of extinction. It'd be easy to believe that. It's so easy to hate people. But I have to believe there is perfection, and that we can pursue it.
I feel a change in the wind, says I, and something about March always seems to want to change mine. I'm not proud of the fact that I turned back, and maybe I should be ashamed of turning back, I don't know. The problems with the gear aren't the reason, and my leg was just fine once I got in my stride. I had extra food and plenty of water, and I definitely could have covered the mileage. But it wasn't about that. I don't have to prove anything to anybody by putting more miles on my boots. I had to prove something else, to myself. The whole trip just seemed to reinforce everything I went up there to get away from. I don't like relying on other people, bu that's what had locked me into doing a certain mileage by a certain time to get picked up. And the reason I committed myself to that was so I could cover a 30 mile section instead of hiking up 15 and coming back the same way. Why? Because that's more impressive, more pins in the map, so to speak. But I'm done with trying to prove something. That's not the reason I should be up there. I had to take charge of the situation. I had a decision to make:
- I could continue as planned: camp where I was, about halfway between where I put in and where I was getting picked up
- I could hike onward, getting as far as I could before dark, but that really wouldn't solve anything.
- I could hike back along the trail, getting as far as I could before dark, and continue back to the car early in the morning before my ride would get to the previously planned location.
- I could hike back along the road to my car.
I was literally breaking down at my campsite. Whenever I couldn't get my stove to stay lit, for whatever reason, everything just came down on me and I fucking lost my mind. What bothers me more is that something that simple just pushed me over the edge like it did. I didn't like what that said about the state of my life. I had to get out of there. It wasn't dark yet, so I would have to kill a lot of time before I would be able to sleep and get going in the morning, and I would go insane sitting there. But it was late enough and I was too tired that I couldn't really cover any significant mileage.So I packed up camp and headed back towards the road, about a mile downhill. From there I had to make the decision of whether to go back along the trail or the road to my car.
There was a shelter not too far up the trail, that I probably could reach and camp for the night. If I chose the road, it was about the same total distance, but I wouldn't be able to stop and camp anywhere; I would just have to keep going through the night until I reached my car. However, the road is better lit than the trail because it's a wider opening in the trees, and it's a fairly well-populated area, with house lights. The road also isn't as steep as the trail, and on the road surface itself I wouldn't have to worry about hiking the rocky, rooty, uneven terrain in the dark. And of course there is the possibility of eventually getting a ride. It was probably about 7:00, the sun had pretty much set, and so I took the road. I weighed the choices, and I made a decision. Making this decision, I had to commit to it fully, and I was prepared to hike all 9 miles to my car if it took me all night. I had to do this. And there I was, this skinny little city-slicking kid hitch-hiking through the Appalachains by himself in the middle of night. It was about 9:00 when somebody actually stopped and offered me a ride. As best I can figure I had hiked about two or three miles on the road. I told him where my car was parked, and it only took about 15 minutes in the car. I don't know what would've happened if he hadn't picked me up, but I hadn't expected anyone to actually stop, and I was probably crazy enough to hike all through the night.
Maybe I did lose my mind up there, because I broke just about every rule there is, but it didn't scare me half as much as whatever I was running away from. I didn't even eat anything. I was probably just running on adrenaline, but whatever it was seemed to make me okay. Just making that decision and taking charge made me okay. Like I said, some people would be ashamed to turn back like that and run away, but I look at it as taking charge. From where I was, staying on the trail and continuing as planned was the cowardly option, just letting the forces dictate me. Instead I stood up, as men do, and did what I felt necessary, despite how incredibly insane it probably was. So I didn't do my 30-mile section, but I hiked a solid 13 miles or so, plus I got a much better story out of it. So be impressed, cause I'm so fucking badass, you can't even fathom it.
His are some pretty impressive shoes to fill. Funny how once I stepped out of my father's shadow, I became more like him than I ever could have tried to be.
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