Читать книгу Confession… A fairy tale in the style of sentimental cynicism - Evgeniy Limanskiy - Страница 5

To somehow understand and clear up my mental condition and creativity, I periodically talk with a familiar psychotherapist. She is an interesting woman with categorical thinking, at least with this style of communication. I am interested to communicate with her, moreover, during these conversations with her, I get involved so much that I start to get nervous and get excited. She assures me that something is coming out of my creativity. Sure, I am pleased to hear that, like any author, but I do not believe her. At least because from my life experience you cannot just unexpectedly start to do something well, and even more so, create something outstanding. However, one thing of course is true; she can see the main and summarize it for you. In my case this is that there is an entertaining text (we use this epithet in order not completely belittle the results of my work, by the way, it is also her merit) but it lacks of the very smallest, the main idea. And without the idea, the most talented text becomes just chatter. Before that, it seemed to me that the main idea I just had. My main character is an outstanding person and worthy that to tell people about her and at the same time to prove her uniqueness. However, it turns out that so far I have not been convincing enough that the main idea just automatically arises from reading the text. Well, I will try to prove it through a super idea.

To give myself confidence in what I am saying, I will give you a small example that I came across, listening to the radio presentation by the venerable musician and rock theorist of the best hits in the female performance in the whole history. Moreover, I apologize in advance, if to some snob from the culture this example will seem too simple and uncomplicated, and as frivolous for subsequent global conclusions. I proceed from my cultural level. In the first place of this hit parade there was the legendary hit Janice Joplin “Piece of My Heart”. I agree 100%, but this hit does not bother me enough to be covered with goose bumps. However, the hit of Suzy Quatro in a duet with Chris Norman “Stumblin’ In”, which was in third place, first time hooked me more than forty years ago, and still I listen it with delight and ecstasy and always at the top of loudness. What follows from this? The understanding of the masterpiece manifests not at the notional but on the sensory level. Moreover, it is just highest emotions that are the criterion in choosing the best. That is, the best is determined not by the aggregate and quantity of complex passages or by the breadth of the vocal range, which undoubtedly also matters, but whether your body would be covered with goose bumps from the appearance of harmony between your inner tuning fork and the external, in this case, musical impact. It is an infinite set of such sensual preferences in the aggregate, that creates the phenomenon of a masterpiece. The hit that conquered me in my youth is not the first, but it is in the top. That is, my sensual choice corresponds to global recognition and preference. But whether it is the first or third place, it does not matter. In any case, it is in the top. Means, I am able to distinguish on the sensory level something outstanding from mediocrity, and not by reasoning and inferences, but namely at the sensory level.

From this musical excursus, we will proceed immediately to the proof of the correctness of my choice in case and personality described by me. This proof I would call “Ode to Death.” When the whole story ended and I found myself in the post state in which I found myself, I understood the main and very simple thing. I am not already so interested in anything in this life. How would it be more convincing to say? I have not seen London Tower and Taj Mahal, I did not hear in live Paganini and Horowitz, perhaps I did not try some masterpieces of culinary or winemaking art. Even drugs I have not tried so much to fall into the drug mist irrevocably. I have not seen, or heard, or felt yet much of something in this life that it was supposed to “demolish my roof” and make me a complete apologist for this someone or something. Sorry, I confess there is a small remark. When I was already in these post-conditions, I heard from Vladimir Pozner in his broadcast a short story about how he visited Cape Horn. And the miracle happened, I was hooked. Suddenly I passionately wanted to see this beauty, feel the powerful breath of the ocean, see the frolicking penguins and breathe in the sea breeze. This desire, however, quickly passed, but it was. And this means two things at once, first, of course, the magic power of the word, in this case of a famous journalist, and secondly, the fact that I have not yet died (in all senses). But, continuing the interrupted thought, I want to say that I experienced the highest pleasure and happiness in this life. Pleasure is so highest that the sense of its exclusivity cannot be exceeded already by anything in this world. It is sex. The first thing I hear in response, do not confuse the sour with the fresh, and the second, do not try to discover America again. But I did it, I mean I discovered America again, because, I am not talking about sex in general, namely, about sex with my heroine. And I say this because I have an experiment with about six hundred sex cases and I can say that this is one of the highest achievements in this field. Again, I foresee an objection in the form of the fact that for a particular male, the experience in six hundred sexual cases is a lot, but from the point of view of global conclusions is negligible. But let us return to the example with the hits in female rock, which I spoke at the very beginning, and at once in two aspects. Aspect the first. At the age of nineteen, when I first heard the song of Suzy Quatro, I was not an advanced music lover, and I heard and understood not much in rock, but that did not stop me to get to the point with my inner tuning fork and feeling. Aspect the second. With my conclusion, I do not claim the truth in the last resort and do not define my heroine as an absolute maximum. I just want to say that she is in sex, as well as Suzy Quatro in rock, is in the top. It is objectivity, and then subjectivity begins. It turns out that objectivity is a combination or coincidence of many subjectivities. Incidentally here again we turn to the classic example of Cleopatra, as an undeniable example of sexual talent. The first confirmation is the abundance of fans and applicants, on the principle of “the people’s path to it (in this case to the body) will never overgrow”. And the second is the amount of payment for the opportunity to come into contact with sexual talent, human life is neither more nor less.

In spite of my claim to objectivity, I am only a man with my own subjective conjectures. Moreover, even in my experiment, I find an example that I put above my heroine because of some objective sexual parameters. And I am grateful to this girl; we will call her Carina, who was able to sober up my insanity for a while. However, here the subjective presence or absence of goosebumps or their intensity comes into force, as in the case of Janis Joplin and Suzy Quatro.

I have also understood that you could live all the lifetime, but not to feel the goose bumps, that is, such a dull, monotonous life without the goosebumps. Quite simple examples, I tried lime the first time not so long approximately ten years ago, and now I use them only, since then to eat lemons for me, it’s like chewing paper. But if I had not tried it, so I continued thinking that tea should be drunk with lemon. Or one more example, it seems on Bali, I do not remember exactly, I tasted coffee, passed through civet cat, and after that a few days I could not drink just coffee, it seemed to me a tasteless slop. Then, however, I got used again, but I had felt the highest taste.

And here we actually go directly to Ode to Death.

Not so long ago and already in the post period, I suddenly clearly realized that I was not at all afraid of death, that was I was ready to die at any moment and, moreover, it would be interesting to me. No, the word “interesting” here is not exactly appropriate. I will digress for a minute, and while I think about what the word approaches more than “interesting”.

I, in my time, having picked up fragmentary data on some religious currents and theories of the Universe, had begot my own theory. Again, I apologize for my ignorance, that I might ascribe somebody’s theory to myself. On earth, there are, apparently, especially for us, the people, a vivid example of my theory. These are caterpillars and butterflies. For completeness, you also need an undeniable acceptance of the postulate of the existence of the soul. In general, by the will of someone Higher, we, people, are just caterpillars. We live in this world, overwhelmed by caterpillar’s passions and wishes. But sooner or later, there comes a time when the caterpillar fully fulfills its function and dies. As a result, a butterfly is born, that is, a soul that will exist in another dimension and with absolutely other goals. However, the cunning and paradox lies in the fact that this very soul develops in the caterpillar, and soul perfection depends entirely on the caterpillar in which it develops. In passing, I will say that I (I do not know which word to pick up, I will say softer) do not completely share our usual tragic grief in the case of a close person’s withdrawal. I will say, perhaps, a blasphemous thing, but we are grieving about our own plans and interests, which are violated by the withdrawal of a loved one. In this sense, Buddhism is closer to me. There, as far as I know, people rejoice at the death of a loved one. Perhaps Buddhists are much closer to understanding the truth of the origin and purpose of the soul.

I suppose that my last words many people will seem cynical and cruel. But, gentlemen, if we exclude Romeo and Juliet, just remember your thoughts at the coffin of the last close to you person you had to say a last farewell, and perhaps you will not be so categorical in relation to these my thoughts.

The main sign of the maturity of the soul is, in my opinion, that the person experienced something in life anything in higher understanding: happiness, joy, creativity, achievement, creation. Think about those who left us impermissibly early. This means only one, for some reason, their soul has already reached perfection.

Stop, no, it is not, it is also fake and amateurish. It is these cases and those when after the departure of a person from life there is a feeling that he did not have time to say or do something important, can and should be considered as tragic.

However, coming from this it should that deeply unhappy, mediocre and lazy people, rogues and scoundrels must live forever. However, fortunately, this is not so. Apparently, the achievements in laziness, mediocrity, meanness, the creation of evil and the realization of oneself unhappy also are the occasion for the birth of a butterfly, or the soul. It is difficult to imagine why such souls are needed, but, apparently, for some reason they are needed.

I confess, this last piece gave me no peace because it did not correspond to the logical and coherent, in my opinion, all the previous text. Simply put, the souls of every kind of moral monsters do not need and may not be necessary for any higher purpose.

However, here it is easier just to use a known and logical theory of reincarnation. In other words, ugly souls, as the lagging pupils will again and again go through the process of “re-education” until they finally become perfect.

By the way, it seems to me, based on all the above, it is legitimate to rename the gloomy and odious word “death” into a joyful and bright “birth of the soul”.

To slightly defuse this lofty style, perhaps, I will add with reference to the words of Socrates by the movie “The very Munchausen”:

– If you get good wife, you will be happy, if bad, you will become philosopher.

Of course, in my case, a bad wife does not matter. However, after a cloudless and top happiness I fell into the abyss of misfortune. But there is a plus in this, I become a philosopher.

PS. I, of course, showed this opus to my psychologist, and she, as usual, praised it. However, with her usual shrewdness, and most importantly with obligatory elementary education (apparently, unlike me) she noticed, as if by chance:

– YOU turn out to be a mediocre pupil, Alex. In the developmental chain of the caterpillar-butterfly, there is actually one more stage, the pupa, and it is no less important, if even not the main one in the process, than the other two.

In fact, we are on “you” with her, including the rules of psychological conversation. But, given the importance of the moment on the one hand, and the undoubted irony, and the stupidity of the situation in which I found myself with my lofty reasoning and gaps in secondary education, it is this ironic appeal of “YOU” seems to me the most appropriate.

Ah, I am an old jackass; I forgot elementary zoology for the 7^th grade. Well, of course, pupa, how I could forget. Now everything has finally fallen into place. It is so simple. It is at this stage that I am now. My caterpillar died in all senses, except perhaps physical existence. It happened at the very moment when the cup of my boundless happiness was overflowing. That is how, probably, life should end in all senses suddenly and irrevocably at the very peak. Quite so a fighting fighter breaks into a tailspin from the highest point at the very moment when the force of gravity becomes stronger than the power of any super powerful engine.

– Linger, still linger, beautiful illusions, – Wolfgang von Goethe exclaimed, apparently, when also understood this.

And it was this unknown force that led Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin to the Black River on the very take-off. Apparently, his caterpillar has fully fulfilled its function in this world. However, Alexander Sergeevich is a unique phenomenon; his pupa lasted only about two days from the time of the duel to death, because the soul of his caterpillar was already perfect.

Following the logic of these two outstanding historical examples, all people go through all these three necessary stages. The brightest reason for the onset of the pupal stage is the highest achievement in the spiritual sphere, that is, creativity in any of its manifestations, the next is the peak in the sphere of feelings (my case), well, further downward, until reaching a limit in milk or sugar consumption, which I mentioned earlier. That is about I thought, after all, I am on the second sensual, and not at the creative level, and my pupa is given a chance to move to the highest level. Therefore, I will try to justify the high trust shown to me. Then the issue is for the small, if at least anybody will react otherwise than indifferently when reading this text. And it does not matter at all whether my pupa will still be alive in the physical sense at that moment.

15 cents from Eugene.

About the perfection and maturity of the soul, I agree with Alex completely and think this question is important and irrefutable. But, nevertheless, here I want, if not argue with him, then although would contribute some refinements. Because there is something, in my opinion, even more important than the maturity and perfection of the definite soul. This is the second and, again, in my opinion, more significant side of this immense issue. This question is so immense that it seems to me that it can be a separate topic in a separate book (research). So now, we will touch on this issue slightly and as thesis. And this second aspect is in the following. The fact is that the caterpillar in addition to growing and nurturing a butterfly inside itself fulfills another very important function. It is the improvement of the environment. That is the environment at the entrance of a new caterpillar and at its exit in the form of a pupa are two different environments. At that, as you can see, the new environment at the output of the caterpillar should be more perfect. But why? Because the caterpillar, developing and improving its butterfly at the same time improves the surrounding world. What for? Yes, to all the following caterpillars would come to an increasingly perfect world, and the development of new butterflies would be more effective and at a higher level. That is such a self-regulating interconnected system.

In addition and in order it would be clear regarding the importance of each caterpillar for the perfection of the environment, I will explain with one example. Try to remove some caterpillar from the history of the world around us, and you will understand everything at once. And in order this understanding to be “weighty, rough, visible,” we will take not just a caterpillar, but a caterpillar of an outstanding personality, which Alex has already mentioned. Imagine the world around us, but only without Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin. It, this world, will immediately shrink and dull. I even imagine how it can physically look, that is, as, for example; we see how the bulb dims in a thunderstorm in the country cottage when the voltage drops. Together with the world around us, we will also cringe and fade, and our future butterflies immediately will lose a lot.

That is, the system turns out to be really closed and interconnected. Each caterpillar contributes to the improvement of the environment, and the environment helps to bring up new perfect butterflies.

In addition, one more thing, butterfly, when it comes time to part, must thank the caterpillar. I am well imagining how this will happen for my caterpillar. To do this, there is a special room for farewell next to the entrance to the tunnel leading to eternity (other world). For myself, I have already come up with a program of this farewell. The program has five points, and each of them is mandatory:

• A Glass of Hennessy X. O.

• Spoonful of Beluga caviar with a slide.

• The first Chapter of “Eugene Onegin” performed by Sergei Yursky alive.

• The song Stumblin’ In performed by Susie Quatro and Chris Norman necessarily from their first performance 1978.

• Repetition of sex July 27, 20….