The Coward, or the Tiger?

I stepped into the darkened room, and I knew something wasn’t right. “The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end,” as they say. Nothing in the room had changed, as far as I could tell in the nearly pitch-black, split-second survey I’d given it as I entered. That was not the problem.

There was someone else in there. Someone tall, well-hidden, and very close. Hiding next to the doorway! I instinctively tried to dash forward, out of his grasp, but it was too late—I felt an iron grip fasten itself around my neck.

Actually, I didn’t. Yeah, now that I think about it, nothing actually happened. There was no one in there. Come on—it was my bedroom! The worst thing that could be in there is one of my brothers trying to startle me—and, thank God, that hasn’t happened since 1996.

Yep, it was my imagination. And, so that you don’t take me for a delusion-prone lunatic, let me point out that I didn’t actually experience this as vividly as I described. It was more a little thought that popped into my head before I turned the light on: “Hey, what if there was somebody in here waiting for me, who wanted to kill me? Whew! Creepy! OK, turn on the light now.” An odd hypothetical question, to be sure. I’ll grant you that. But I wasn’t on the floor convulsing in a schizophrenic frenzy. Just to make that clear. Now where the heck was I?

Oh yeah. This little thought that popped into my head, it got me thinking. It got me thinking about how important a mindset can be. What if there was a hitman waiting for me inside my bedroom? In the mindset I had at that moment, I would have been scared to death—and guess where that would’ve led me? I’ll give you a hint: it’s what I was scared to.

There are different kinds of fear. I fear a nuclear war. I fear the results of our culture’s immorality. I fear several things in that way. But that fear is more of a thought process, more of a conclusion based on our principles. But there’s another type of fear, a visceral, instinctive one, like what I described in the opening paragraphs, that can be our downfall in perilous situations.

Put yourself in the hitman-bedroom scenario. Now replace yourself with a tiger. How would the hitman feel about grabbing a tiger by the neck? Not so eager, you see. Why is that? Well, the tiger would respond in a, shall we say, resentful way. The hitman has no right to grab that tiger by the neck, and the tiger has claws and teeth that will put forth that contention in quite a convincing fashion.

Here’s the fact, Jack: we all can choose to be the instinctive coward, or the tiger. There’s one of each inside all of us. Perhaps we’re not all tigers inside. Some of us might be gigantic Kodiak bears, or poisonous coral snakes. Heck, some of us are probably more like rabid chimps, or charging llamas. But the point is, we all have the potential inside of us—the sleeping beast, so to speak—who’s completely capable of unloading a potential can of Whoop-*** on anyone who threatens us.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be enough. The hitman might be able to choke the tiger, or shoot it. And another disclaimer—I’m not saying “never run—always fight! Hulk smash! Aargh!” No. I’m merely talking about that rare set of situations in which there is nothing to do but fight—and most of us haven’t ever been, and perchance won’t ever be, in those kinds of spots. But if we are, we need to be ready. Because destiny is decided in the instants, not the aeons. It’s the split-second decisions that make the most difference; they truly are the building blocks of life.

All I’m saying has been paraphrased by two great thinkers of yore, and they shall close this humble treatise:

I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;
For, though I am not splenitive and rash,
Yet have I something in me dangerous,
Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.

—Hamlet, from Shakespeare’s play, Act V, Scene 1

Don't hit at all if you can help it; don't hit a man if you can possibly avoid it; but if you do hit him, put him to sleep.
—Theodore Roosevelt (yep, that's him in the picture!)

Momentous Mania

I recently discovered that some people had fallen prey to a monster. Those people are friends whom I have known and respected for several years; the monster is an attitude that has existed since, oh, before you were born. It has been called many names, but rarely has it been mocked in alliterative irony, so here goes—I hereby dub it the Mania of the Moment.

Maniacs of the Moment are usually referred to as “experts.” I’m sure you’ve heard of them before (if, in fact, there is a “you” out there reading this to whom I may refer). In addition to answering phone calls from desperate journalists who need a molehill to make a mountain out of, experts also teach classes at universities. Generally their goal in teaching lies not in imparting bales of information, but in teaching a mindset to their students. That mindset is: “Check your preconceived notions at the door, young people. You were raised with certain assumptions and prejudices, but in college we will nurture in you an open mind; and to accomplish this we will tell you the way we think the world is, and teach you not to question our assumptions and prejudices.” And thus, the world is remade in the image of the experts. Or as I like to call them, the Maniacs of the Moment.

The victims of the Maniacs who I referred to above was describing to me an almost absurdly unreasonable modern theory that tried to explain the phenomenon of “transgendered” individuals on a genetic basis:

Pared down to the essentials, it says that a boy as young as nine months old will display an affinity for women’s accessories, be they her shoes, her coat, her perfume…despite parental objections, these children may sometimes grow up to identify as the opposite gender. The cause of this is likely a blend of genetic predisposition and prenatal hormones.

Yes. I wish I had made that up, but no—that happens to be material apparently taught in a Psychology class at a world-class university in the Midwest. I call it absurdly unreasonable because it contends that a nine month old boy, who is just getting used to walking and talking, somehow recognizes the cultural and sociological significance of physical objects like shoes and purses. Cultural and sociological information is not innate; it is taught. Any fool, scientific or not, can comprehend and state this simple fact (one just did).
But the saddest fact was not that they considered this doctrine credible. No, the saddest fact was that they proved themselves unwilling to “take what they teach you with a grain of salt,” as I suggested (and I’d say that a grain of salt is not much to ask against the previous poppycock I just described)!

Is critical thinking really out of vogue? The answer is a resounding YES, and it has always been out of vogue. Centuries ago, the leading experts of the day propounded that the entire universe revolved around our planet earth…our flat planet earth. Now I know that my history is a bit fuzzy, the Greeks knew the earth was round for centuries, and yada-yada-yada. That’s not important. And I’m being completely serious here. It’s not important, because the principle is true, namely that most people cannot see past their own generation’s myopic line of sight.

That’s a sad thing, and it hurt to see my friends falling for this cheap and passing parlor trick based on spin and false authority. They are intelligent people, good-hearted, far more intelligent than I, in terms of scientific and mathematic smarts. But there is more to intelligence than being able to comprehend abstract concepts or being able to store data.

The key to true intelligence, I say, is common sense and critical thinking. Anyone who wants to be smart needs only these tools, along with a workable and willing intellect, in order to excel. I honestly believe that. Albert Einstein himself said that “imagination is more important than knowledge.” Being able to fairly evaluate the concepts one is taught—rather than just accepting them as unassailable fact—and proposing creative solutions to the problems that indubitably arise, is a prerequisite for any truly intelligent person, not least any scientist.

I desperately hope that critical thinking makes a comeback, because until it does little boys will retain their genetic affinity for women’s high-heels, just as the earth remained flat for so many long and ignorant centuries.

To close: Why, you may query perturbedly, have I concluded with this picture? Because it's hilarious. Enjoy.

Stay strong (I mean it),

Joezilla