Can We Talk?

Our species is really a very amusing one. The birds and beast learn and evolve in accord with nature’s immutable laws. If they screw up, they get eaten or lose their meal to another beast. Lions don’t own Mc Donald’s franchises, but neither do they have an elaborate religion that gives them the edge in morality or ethics; you win some—you lose some. The poor beasts do not have the ability to communicate through language.

Human animals can learn and think about what they have learned and create pictures of possible scenarios—simulations. We, the monkey people, can hypothesize—make up shit. So we make up stuff to fill our time, earn money, get attention—busy work. Talk, talk, talk…and then more talk.

We waste time arguing about politics, religion, psychology, sociology, morals, ethics, and art. In the process, we attempt to hide our real agenda beneath diversionary disguises. No facts, no data. All the talk is really ego-massaging persiflage.

Witnessing these behaviors convinces me that, what ever we are, we are not more important than the nature we are slowly destroying around us.

The more I see people arguing about a particular subject, the greater the probability that there are no facts to support an answer or the topic would be moot. Actually, if there is any data whatsoever, it severely limits the amount of talk about that topic--creative interpretation is restricted. How many conversations do you have about the circumference of the earth?

Our verbal ability allows us to say “things.” They do not have to be logical, relevant, factual or reasonable things—they can be any-things.

I am convinced that people (most people) enjoy talking just to hear the sound of their own voices. They jabber on and on. Jabbering is how we make money and friends and relationships; it also the way we lose all of those things.

I can jabber at the graduate level. My job as a consultant allowed me to learn how to say meaningless things and get away with it—even get paid for it. I can talk non-stop for hours without saying anything meaningful. Conversely, I have spent as many as 5 days without talking to another human--well, accept myself, if that qualifies.

Not much to brag about, eh? Well, at least I know that what I am saying is irrelevant, uninteresting and unimportant. Many people actually believe that others actually give a shit about what they are saying.

The only person who is willing to listen to us talk irrespective of whether or not what we are saying has any interest, is our mother. That’s right—mom is the only person who wants to hear you jabber on and on about yourself. Maybe your wife or husband can tolerate a bit, but don’t press your luck. If your mom has died or does not like you—you’re up shit creek. I've tried talking to Toby, but you can see how interested he is.

Of course, you can disguise your endless chatter about how great you are within the subject matter—make it seem like you are talking about something else when the real point is that you are bright and perceptive enough to be able to make these observations and distinctions. That's my approach.

So what? What difference does it make that our species is consumed and obsessed by ourselves? None. Unless we are trying to act like we are not self-absorbed—that what we really trying to do is to save the world for posterity. We are sacrificing ourselves for humanity.

I used to be a good listener. When I was in my 20s, I listened about 90% of the time and talked 10%. Now I talk 60% of the time and listen 40% of the time. Many of my friends butt into my talk time a lot, so I know that I am talking too much and they are ill mannered.

Of course, I do it too—talk over others. It is a bad habit and if both conversants are doing it, it means that neither is interested in what the other has to say. Discussions that have no quantified data to back up the assertions are pretty much like that—chatter-fests where two egos engage in one-upsmanship combat.

Chattering about religion, politics, psychology, sociology, American culture (its demise mostly), jobs (or the absence of), home maintenance—yak-yak, chatter-chatter. It’s all camouflage for the emotional exchange. We talk for support or validation. There may not be any facts, but there are feelings.

Depressed, stressed, anxious, losing hope—whatever. Talking about it soothes the soul and calms the spirit. Even if the other person is not listening, doesn’t care and expresses no empathy—it still works.

A good soliloquy shores up the constitution. “I am…somebody. My life has meaning.” The incessant chatter masks the meaningless vacuity in which we toil. If you happen to have a friend who really cares about you—someone who is interacting with you because they like to hear the sound of your voice and you can tell that they like the interaction because there is chemistry—that’s a good thing.

It is a hard thing to find. There are some people that I like talking to because they are good thinkers, reasonable, objective, and humane. They help me grow by examining things from a neutral standpoint. They make value-added observations. They help me think things through more throughly. I learn from these people.

Other people I know are locked tightly into their philosophical positions. They are confident and comfortable—not that there is anything wrong with that. It’s good to have solid values that you stand behind and stand behind you. Their minds are made up.

If you are one of these fortunate people, then you really have no need to talk to anyone else. What are you going to learn from them? If you have an established political affiliation, religious affiliation, and you understand what accounts for the variance in behavior among the planet’s citizens—what do you need to talk to anyone for. Well, except to hear the velvety tones, mesmerizing rhythms and inspirational phrasing of your own voice.

Well, you may need to talk to earn money. You have to talk to the shop clerks when you pick up your Twinkies. What else? Well I guess you can talk to people who are locked in to the same institutional perspectives as you are. You both can refine the perspicuity of your views and celebrate your superiority over the lost souls who are foundering about in their uncertainty.

That’s me—foundering about in my uncertainty. Awash in my personal muddle. Transitioning from one life plateau to another. Talking to hear myself talk. One thing I am learning—paradoxically—from my mentations about life--if you are absolutely sure about something—you are probably wrong about it.

Certainties are the refuge of anxiety and fear. Some of the most certain people I meet are the Pentecostals, Scientologists, and Seventh Day Adventists. Muslims are absolutely certain that they are going to reach paradise for butchering Christians. Behavioral psychologists believe that their empirical methodology renders an infallible causal template for human behavior. Right wing Republicans believe that their party can solve America’s problems. See what I mean?

I think I'm going to take a vow of silence. I will speak no more of life's mundane, materialism--it's all horsey poop and I refuse to be a part of the charade any longer. I will exclude my Twinkie source and the lady at McDonald's; I will have to point to the number 1 and say "biggy size it."