From: Platt Holden (pholden@sc.rr.com)
Date: Fri Jul 09 2004 - 21:14:40 BST
Hi Dan, All:
Dan wrote:
> And believe me when I say I'm not helping anyone. I don't happen to believe
> we as human beings have the capacity to help others. I provide an
> opportunity for others to help themselves. The motivation has to be theirs.
Truer words were never spoken. History as proven time and time again that
"helping" others has caused untold misery, whether it be the priests of
the Inquisition helping heretics save their souls by burning them at the
stake or Communists and Nazis helping societies achieve greatness by
slaughtering millions.
Those who help are always in a position of power over the helpless and the
helpless know it. This not only feeds the helper's ego but causes
resentment on the part of the helpless. No one choose to be helpless
except those who fake helplessness to attain favors from gullible helpers.
We really don't know how to help others without being arrogant (I know
what's best for you), prescient (I can see foresee all consequences) and
paternalistic (you depend on me.) All these feed the do-gooder's ego. He
needs for people to be down so he can feel up. He wants to be admired for
his compassion and unselfishness. Most of all, he enjoys the power of
being in a position to help.
Pirsig wrestles with the issue of helping in Chapter 25 of Lila. The
"light" seems to be trying to tell him that he should help Lila. "You
can't just run off from other people without injuring yourself too."
But then he recalls how his Aunt and himself were treated when pronounced
insane.
"The hardest thing to deal with," he writes, "was the righteousness of the
sane. When you're in agreement with the sane they're a great comfort and
protection, but when you disagree with them. . . they're dangerous. Then
they'll do anything. The sinister thing that struck the most fear in him
was they'd do it in the name of kindness . . . He saw that the sane always
know they are good because their culture tells them so. Anyone who tells
them otherwise is sick, paranoid, and needs further treatment."
Towards the end of the book after Rigel takes Lila off Pirsig's hands, the
author writes:
"He had a feeling of freshness as he walked back to the boat. What a
fantastic day this was. How many people are ever lucky enough to clean the
slate like this? They're all stuck with their endless problems. He stood
on a mound of sand beside some juniper bushes and said "Ahhhh!" He threw
out his arms. Free! No idols, no Lila, no Rigel, no New York, no more
America even. Just free!
Here Pirsig has escaped from guilt and "political correctness" as well as
the stifling blanket of social morality and the "monomyth" that Arlo
mentions in his latest post to me in the free enterprise thread. He has
thrown away, if but temporarily, the cultural glasses through which he and
we judge others. For the moment he is "just free" -- the highest good in
the MOQ.
"He looked up in the sky and whirled. Ahhh, that felt good!"
Best,
Platt
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