Is Solitude The Result Of A Lack Of Imagination?

I was alone and bored so I went along to a philosophical discussion I saw taking place at a local café.
The topic, serendipitously enough, was Is solitude the result of a lack of imagination?
Now, it was a loaded question -obviously- so the first issue was to argue if it was well posed. It suggested that solitude was negative whereas solitude could be positive. Solitude could be suffered or chosen, pathological or essential. Furthermore, solitude was a state whereas imagination was a function so could the two be equated? Ironically, it could be argued that solitude lead to imagination, all great ideas having come from moments of quiet seclusion. So the question was already hanging by a thread…
Flipping it around, imagination could help lead out of solitude through thinking of ways not to be alone, much as I had just done. Although thinking also lead to anxiety which could lead to feelings of aloneness. Or, an old man asked, was it not imagination but understanding that was the real issue: if solitude is often the result of a lack of interest in things is it simply because we don’t understand them?
I didn’t have an answer to that. I didn’t have an answer to any of it. But I sat there, alone with other people, forming ideas and thoughts and buzzing.

We Are Being Infantilised Into A One-Click Culture

Like.

Know Thyself

‘Hey, Seb, do you think that you can ever know yourself?’
‘Who said that?’
‘Funny. But seriously, is it possible to know thyself?’
‘Well, Seb, if you don’t understand your own motivations, aren’t you just copying other people’s?’
‘Yawn. I didn’t ask you why you should, I asked you if you could.’
‘Well critical thinking is tough, you know, it’s tempting instead just to watch kittens wearing hats on YouTube.’
‘But what if your life is like a pair of glasses? Maybe you should just be looking through it, not at it…’
‘Have you been smoking?’
‘I mean, you can’t take yourself in isolation. What are you going to do, talk to yourself?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Seb. But what if what I see is not necessarily what there is? How do I know unless I challenge it, unless I ask myself the question?’
‘Like right now?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘Good question. I don’t know the answer. Maybe you’re asking the wrong person.’
‘Er… well… should we go look at some kittens on the internet?’
‘Yeah. And some tits…’

I'm Just About Hanging On By My Fingertips

I met this attractive girl the other night.
We had a drink and were talking and I started thinking about Goebbels, the Nazi Minister of Propaganda.
One of his theories on manipulation was: “Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it”.
It's a simple yet successful technique which has been used time and time again to manufacture consent and make anyone pointing out the fact that something is a lie appear to be a fruitcake.
“So,” the girl asked, “tell me about you.”
“I am brilliant. I am brilliant. I am brilliant...”

Sed Non Satiata

There was a chill wind blowing that night. It kind of caught you off guard as you turned a corner or crossed a road. As long as you stayed close to a wall you didn’t notice it so much and the evening almost seemed mild. But the evening was deceptive. One minute you’d be fine, walking along, watching the show around you, watching mini-dramas play out, then the wind would catch you. It would stroke your skin and ruffle your hair. It would make you shiver and turn your collar up. It would blow other people out of your mind. The wind would throw cold water in your face and you would stop and look at your reflection in a window. You would look at yourself as Christmas decorations blinked on and off. You would stand there and look at your face and feel cold and alive.

Your Life Has Timed Out Due To Inactivity

It was a mild, clear day. I was walking my mind in the local park. A light wind blew dead leaves off the trees. Gravel crunched under foot.
They were sitting opposite each other.
One had dusty clothes and scraggly hair. The other wore an oversize jacket and had a nervous twitch.
I stopped next to them. One of them smelled. I watched them.
They didn’t care. They were too engrossed.
They played fast. I had a hard time keeping up.
They exchanged piece after piece, hitting the little clock after each move.
They were engrossed. Here they could forget it for a while, keep reality at bay. Here things were black and white. Here things weren’t confused in different shades of grey.
One saw that his king was trapped and resigned. They set up the pieces to play again.
Here it was binary, win or lose. And if you lost, you just played again.
I watched them play and forgot it for a while too.

Public Opinion Doesn't Exist

Bourdieu said that public opinion doesn't exist.
His point was that it is a created phenomenon. Opinion polls produce an answer to a question created by the agency which asks it, it's not an answer to a question which individuals ask themselves.
And if it is created then it is manipulated, it is not genuine and so it lacks validity.
It's a convincing point, don't you think?
But if you agree or disagree, haven't you just been manipulated by the argument and question? In which case, the answer lacks validity.
So how can we get a public opinion on whether public opinion exists or not?
Thinking about it, who gives two shits about public opinion.