On Birthday

October 1st. It may just be another day which you look out of the window in your office impatiently waiting for it to be emptied out at six. This day, however, is of some significance to me. It reminds me that my trivial existence is worthy of celebration. Which suggests that there is something inherently admirable in the process of ageing. It reminds me that I am one step closer to my final destination. It is my birthday.

But why do we celebrate our birthday? Are we supposed to be grateful to be alive? Is life filled with hopes and dreams which are worth our struggle? Unfortunately, the facts confront us with the irrefutable. Our world is threatened by vast tragedy. There is in this world so much injustice, so much hatred, so much fear, and so much envy. Though we continue to live day by day, we are at loss what the meaning of our individual existence is. Nevertheless, every time I wander around in a bookstore and look at the bookshelves which are occupied with self-help books, it is not uncommon to find an author who is encouraging blind-optimism. They construct what seems to be compelling arguments in hope of convincing their readers to affirm life. That all of us can be as successful as Bill Gates and Steve Jobs. This leads to the question whether we should celebrate our birthday.

Most of us apparently choose to celebrate birthday because we are all horrified by the idea of death. We are reluctant to admit the fact that birthday also signifies we are approaching to the final destination. Life is supposed to be joyful. We were not born to submit to the philosophy of Schopenhauer. It is better to be optimistic rather than pessimistic. I am often surprised of our capacity to imagine. But imagination is an illusion. It cordons our feeble minds off the realistic world. It deceives us into hoping for a better tomorrow. This optimism wears us down.

It is useless to escape from the irrevocableness of death. In our constant struggle between lightness and weight, we are often in muddle of the thought whether a life of lightness or a life of weight is a better option. Anyone who contemplates the details of life will necessarily be drawn to the nihilistic conclusion. That our life is full of futilities and nothing else. The facts decide which option we ought to take- the unbearable lightness. But in this acceptance of futility, however true, there is a sense of fear which is concentrated upon my individual soul night after night. This feeling torments my immortal soul, leaves me with something which I am unbearable to speak, and strengthens my only wish to liberate it from its mortal coil. In the spectacle of life and death, in the inextricable relationships of men and women, in the never-ending pursuit of our dreams, there is nothing I wish to hold on to. Little wonder the aristocrats and the members of the Royal family commissioned Rembrandt to secure their glorious days by means of portraits. Because they were aware of the fact that their fame, power, and wealth would one day become ashes and dust.

But humans always contradict themselves. We invest our faith in what we are capable of achieving. History tells us that we have produced great art, literature, music, philosophy and science that have changed minds and filled lives. Though we are surrounded by life's absurdities, our inner selves still long for the arrival of beauty to hold on to our hearts. In friendship, in romantic love, in parental affection, in compassion, in the devotion to science and the arts, there is nothing we wish to diminish. They take away all the imperfections and impurities from our souls and attend us to the idea of weight. They flower our lives with meanings and dreams.

After meditating on how we should approach our birthday, it seems difficult to know whether we should celebrate it. But Nietzsche offers us a solution: imagine a life which you live now must be lived by you for infinite times and you would have to repeat every single details in it again and again. What does that tell you? If you are to repeat the same life again and again, you may want to do something which will delight you innumerable times. This thought propels your mind to decide what you should do next. It makes you focus on the present. It urges you to revise your goals and dreams which you always hold on to. If you are at loss what you should do next, it suggests that your life is not as satisfying as it seems. This Nietzschean thought invites us to live our life at its fullest while at the same time pulls us away from the idea of lightness. That a life of little weight may be what we should desire after all.

Life is full of sweetness and bitterness. It may be a cruel fact that the amount of bitterness usually outweighs that of sweetness. But on birthday, we rejoice from the blessings of our friends, of our parents, and of our romantic partners. The contemplation of birthday not only inspires us how we should think about life, it also sheds light on how should enjoy our birthday at its fullest and richest. It keeps us from denying the spectacle of joy life wishes to offer. It keeps us from abandoning our hopes in perfection. It keeps us from thinking ourselves as the centres of the universe. It keeps us away from a morbid sense of loneliness.

W

On Tolerance

Aside from death, few things promise us as much freedom as democracy. But how does democracy, unlike other political systems, offer us the greatest degree of freedom? There is a quality in democracy which overwhelms us called 'tolerance'. This quality allows us to freely express diverse ideas and opinions which sometimes we may not agree on. It shields us off from the persecution of the worst kind of opinion, namely, public opinion. It assures us the expression of heretic opinions without being brought up in front of The Inquisition. Therefore, my dear reader, can you lay your hands on your heart and say that tolerance is bad? However, the reality suggests the otherwise. Tolerance seems to have done as much harm as good.

What, then, is wrong with tolerance? Instead of using it as a means to promote freedom, people use it to promote barbarian acts. I have in mind a species of tolerance called 'multiculturalism'. The study of anthropology reveals to us that people from other places in the world persist on the values which most of us are not accustomed to. Most of those customs many modern readers may find absurd. Therefore, it is wicked to impose our cultural imperialism upon others who are not accustomed to our values. We are then expected to justify female genital mutilation, to believe witchcraft can cure diseases, and to acknowledge the fact that some women are witches. Because all this is their tradition which persists on through ages. We do not have any right whatsoever to criticise their values and condemn them as barbarians. Moreover, if multiculturalism means the tolerance of diverse cultures, it also means we must respect other traditions. It is therefore tyrannical to ban the construction of minarets in Switzerland and it is wicked to prevent Islam women from wearing garments to cover their hair in France. But the fact they have emigrated to there means they have to fit in their cultures. If they refuse to do so, they do not deserve to live there.

But tolerance has another offspring called 'Political Correctness'. When we wish to say 'Merry Christmas' on Christmas holidays, our politically correct peers will remind us that it is more appropriate to say 'Happy Winter Festivals' or 'Happy Holidays' like President Obama did. We can no longer use the word 'marriage' because this word is tied up with Christianity which is another form of cultural imperialism. The correct way to say it would be 'civil union'. This theory has significantly gained support from some feminists as well. They revolutionise our commonly used language. We can no longer say 'men of science' because women can be scientists too. It is immensely important that when we say 'he', we must add 'she' after a stroke. It is outrageous to generalise women as relatively irrational because women are capable of being philosophers as well. How more tolerant we can be.

There is in this world too much tolerance. Tolerance was initially a quality which grants us the freedom to express our individual views. It is a milestone for individualism. Unfortunately, it is precisely the reason that too much tolerance has marked the end of our Enlightenment spirit. In the world of twenty-first century, we can no longer criticise values and religions on the ground that our criticism may offend others' ideological familiarity. In ancient Greece, Plato and Socrates, or if you prefer, the Platonic Socrates, had an urge to re-educate the Athenians. They taught them to arrive at judgement through rational enquiry and unbiased evaluation of evidence. Unfortunately, this tradition has failed to pass down after the Enlightenment period. What we have today is fundamentalism and relativism. It is a norm that we should stifle our doubts and follow the flock because we scarcely can be pioneers of hitherto difficult and unknown truths. Which lifestyle we choose no longer matters anymore because all values and beliefs are equally valid. The concepts of autonomy and self-realisation become vacuous because it is impossible not to realise ourselves.

Tolerance is nevertheless a means to promote freedom. However, this quality, if carried too far, will become a driving force of intellectual laziness. We no longer dwell upon matters with great precision. We no longer acknowledge ourselves as individuals. We wish to be part of the herd instinct. Is there hope in the future? I do not know. What I hope is that I shall not have to live the world at its worst.

W

In Praise of Laziness

The following article is referred from http://www.libertines.hk which I am one of the contributors:



Hong Kong is a city that preaches haste. Haste is believed by the majority a necessary virtue for progress and prosperity. As a commercially driven society, money is of immense importance and considered the ultimate goal of all people in Hong Kong. It is widely believed that haste could produce wealth. Therefore, it is not uncommon in Hong Kong to see people who have prided in themselves of getting numerous things done in a day. Haste, after all, can be measured proportionally with how much we earn. Being brought up in this city, I have been constantly told of this ideal. I, for a time, believed what I was told and acquired a conscience that kept me being a hard working man. And it became an ideal which was deemed too implausible to be the target of scrutiny. Unfortunately, after witnessing certain instances, I was compelled to revise the ideal that has been upheld by this city and I figured that it has done more harm than good.

Numerous times I engaged in conversations with people of Hong Kong about where and how they travel. They always take pride in themselves how they cover the entire Tokyo in Japan in a week. In order to spend their time wisely, they often decide to wake up at 8a.m. sharp and devise a plan how to stalk from shop to shop in eight hours. Time after time, I am surprised how dense their schedule is, especially the fact that they wake up earlier on holidays than working days.

Modern young men pursue romantic love in the same spirit. They have no patience to engage in a relationship in a considerable amount of time to please a lady with intelligence and humours. They only wish to charm a lady with a dinner and a film while at the same time indulge in inappropriate thoughts whether they will end up in bed together on the same day.

There is so much readiness in Hong Kong which renders people the inability to use their leisure intelligently. Because leisure demands serenity and patience. A piece of literature should be read with a contemplative habit of mind to admire the author's style of writing and the message he wishes to deliver. The beauty of any one place upon travelling can only be appreciated by paying attention to details. A great work of painting can only be finished by a great deal of time and patience. We are unable to derive the appropriate pleasure from our leisure if we attend ourselves to haste. In the absence of serenity, the roses will lose their hue, the fruit its flavour, the star its splendour, and the perfume its aroma. Fifteen minutes of concentration at least are needed to appreciate a sculpture, but even the the most beautiful sculpture rarely detains anyone for even thirty seconds.

Moreover, much of what we consider progress or prosperity is accomplished in leisure. If the French aristocrats had not the time to wander in gardens, there would not have been Rococo art. If Newton had not the time of twenty years to work out the laws of gravitation, we would have remained ignorant of the universe. If Darwin had not spent his time taking a trip to Bagel, we would have thought ourselves the image of God. In a society where the parents encourage their children to spend as less time as possible in university and enter the cruel world of business as soon as possible, nothing great could be achieved.

Therefore, my dear readers, can you still lay your hands on your heart that laziness is a vice and not a virtue? I hope, after reading my plea for laziness, that my dear readers will revolutionise the current trend to induce our good young men in Hong Kong to do nothing. If so, I shall not have lived in vain.

W

Does Photography Do Any Harm?

The following article is referred from http://www.libertines.hk which I am one of the contributors:



Out of all the places we usually go to, few sceneries and objects deserve our attention and overwhelm us. These places possess a quality called beauty. We are often attracted to things which are an aesthetic delight to the eye and after encounters with them, we may seize every chance to capture them and try to hold on to them. That is why we have invented cameras. Taking photographs may satisfy our urge for possession sparked by the beauty of a place or an object. How impressive a design that allows us to hold on to beauty with a click of the shutter. But what harm does photography possibly do? If photography is to be criticised, it is not so much about photography itself, but it has everything to do with how we employ the art of photography.

But this art has been significantly changing. We witness, on the streets in Hong Kong, an uprising of artistic movement. Art no longer restricts those who only have God-given talents. The teenagers have an urge to say, 'Anyone Can Be Photographers'. It reminds me of the Pixar cartoon called 'Ratatouille' which The owner of the restaurant, Gustav, also writes a book named 'Anyone Can Cook'. Encouraged by a similar democratic vision of being artists, it is not uncommon in Hong Kong to see teenagers taking photographs everywhere. We often see in those photographs a bunch of teenagers showing a 'V' gesture to remember their union. We may also see them taking photographs of the food that they eat. Sometimes, even a piece of rubbish on the street may be intriguing to them as an object of beauty. This motive may be understood as their appreciation of the beauty of still life but somehow worthy of some degree of suspicion.

What, then, is wrong with photography? Instead of employing the art of photography as an conscious effort of seeing and of noticing the minutest details of the scenery, they have developed a new style of photography which may be called 'snapshots'. They use the medium as an substitution. They pay less attention to details due to their blind worship of technology. They invest faith in their digital cameras that they automatically assure them the possession of beauty. They have no patience to notice every minute detail in the photograph. What they do is just plugging in the memory stick to their computers so they can upload the photographs to facebook and blogs. They do so not out of promoting beauty, but in order to show themselves off so they can receive more comments from friends.

We glance over the newspapers published in Hong Kong. It is not surprising that we see more images than words on them. However, it is true, images may stimulate our mind and urge us to remain sober of the horrors of wars. But the flooding of images on newspapers not only prevent us from appreciating the author's style of writing, but also weakens our ability to comprehend and analyse the readings. I was surprised when I first glanced over a German newspaper with only few images on it. Little wonder why it is the hometown of philosophers. Images alone, unlike books, cannot teach us to think independently. Words, after all, are the sole tools that we rely on to think clearly.

Photographers teach us to look at things with an aesthetic eye and a good writer urges to attend to the minutest details that we may neglect. They open up our minds to see things rather than merely look, by making conscious effort to notice elements and understand the constructions of a scenery. Taking snapshots blur the distinction of looking and seeing. It promotes our laziness in noticing details. It condemns our literacy by a few clicks. Whether we should take pleasure in a stroll in an art gallery or spam the internet with snapshots, only the future can decide. For my part, I'd rather die sooner.

W

On Beauty

Think of Van Gogh's Starry Starry Night which removes us from city lights and retreats us back to nature. Think of Rembrandt's Self-Portrait which confronts us the question of mortality. Think of Sandro Boticelli's The Birth of Venus which impresses us with the ideal of a perfect woman. Think of Rodin's The Kiss which reminds us how to employ the art of kissing.

Do they invoke any beauty? Why does beauty matter to us? Philosophers and laymen discuss beauty alike. But very often our discussion begins in wonder and ends in wonder. We often hold conflicting views on beauty which a common consensus is rendered impossible. Plato assures us that beauty is an objective ideal while the majority convinces us beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Opinions of beauty differ greatly from those of science. We all agree on the laws of gravitation. Whoever holds a different view is considered insane. But truth is difficult to attain in the realm of beauty. Our views of beauty vary as time and geographical locations vary. Imagine a beautiful lady walks by and two people debate on her beauty. So insistent and inappropriate are the thoughts that her beauty generates, one of them finds himself difficult having a patient manner with her while the other thinks her undesirable. Though their tastes conflict, they would not go as for as fighting for her beauty. However, it happened in ancient Europe and America. It is not uncommon, especially for the aristocrats, to challenge someone a duel because one's taste is offended by another. Little wonder the population of ancient Europe remained low.

If beauty is subject to subjectivity, why do we insist on arguing about beauty with others? Why do we think someone having bad taste when his is not the same as your own? That is because beauty is not a quality in the object itself, but rather belongs to our sentiment. When we stand in front of an objet d'art, it gives us a sentiment of delight or a sentiment of uneasiness. Whatever is delightful, we consider it beautiful. Whatever gives us uneasiness, we consider it ugly. Whether we feel delight or easiness greatly depends on how we are raised. David Hume puts it nicely,

'We may observe, however, that this uniformity among human kind hinders not, but that there is a considerable diversity in the sentiments of beauty and worth, and that education, custom, prejudice, caprice, and humour, frequently vary our taste of this kind. You will never convince a man, who is not accustomed to Italian music, and has not an ear to follow its intricacies, that a Scotch tune is not preferable.'

Little wonder why we often arrive at different opinions regarding beauty. This sentiment we feels towards an object depends upon a particular fabric of mind. We often argue about beauty because we think the agreeable quality lies in the object, but not in the sentiment.

Though beauty is not something we often agree on, there is a solution to remedy the vulgarity of our taste to arrive at a more 'just' and 'accurate' judgement of beauty. I have in mind the delicacy of passion and taste. Hume again offers a brilliant example.

'This is a quality hereditary in our family. Two of my kinsmen were once called to give their opinion of a hogshead, which was supposed to be excellent, being old and of a good vintage. One of them tastes it, considers it; and, after mature reflection, pronounces the wine to be good, were it not for a small taste of leather which he perceived in it. The other, after using the same precautions, gives also his verdict in favour of the wine; but with reverse of a taste of iron, which he could easily distinguish. You cannot imagine how much they were both ridiculed for their judgement. But who laughed in the end? On emptying the hogshead, there was found at the bottom of an old key with a leathern thong tied to it.'

What Hume suggests in this story is that how seldom we notice details. There is often something missing when we search for a standard of taste, a quality called sensitivity. If paying less attention to details means paying less attention to beauty, it also means we are deprived of the opportunities to discover beauty. When we gaze at a Van Gogh's painting, we should not attend to it with an uneducated eye. We must carefully study the colours which he employs and understand how he observes colours in nature with an artistic eye. What we should do, Hume believes, is to encourage this sensitivity. We should attend ourselves to every minute detail of an object in order to enlarge our capacity to appreciate beauty.

The study of arts and humanities can soften and humanise our emotions to be finer and more sophisticated. The study of beauty should not be excluded. It excites our emotions as soft and tender ones. They liberate us from the bondage of the here and now. It draws our attention to tranquillity. It promotes our pleasure in reflection. Our sentiments, after the refinement of beauty, are the best suited to romantic love and friendship. In a world where people are charged with intense emotions to decide on every matter, the world will not be sane before we master the art of appreciating beauty.

W

A Plea For 'Free' Suicide

Aside from blind optimism which we often read in self-help books, few activities serve as much an antidote as suicide. Our world is threatened by vast tragedy. It is not uncommon in the midst of frustration to feel melancholy over the ills of the world. Love promises as much happiness as sadness; In the world of business, we are constantly bullied by the ones who are in power; When we stray away from the path of the flock and habour a confused wish to be pioneers of hitherto unknown and difficult truths, our peers remind us of the scarcity of great minds and of us being alone in noticing the fact; Science promises us as much optimism as pessimism. Most of us are firmly convinced that humans are the masters of nature, yet we are increasingly confronted by the even more powerful natural disasters. Little wonder Arthur Schopenhauer, the leading authority in pessimism, promotes suicide.

We have invented various ways to commit suicide. In old days, members of our species chose to hang themselves or jump off of a building. Nowadays, most of us choose to poison ourselves or take in sleeping pills. In ancient Japan, the most noblest form of suicide was Seppuku (切腹) which was widely adopted by samurais. A samurai must follow the precise rituals to perform Seppuku. First, he must dress himself in white robes and have his favourite meal. And he should, with his sword on a desk, compose a death poem to honour the activity he is about to perform. I am reluctant to imagine every samurai was a poet. But as John Ruskin put it,

'There is a satisfactory and available power in every one to learn drawing if he wishes, just as nearly all persons have the power of learning French, Latin or arithmetic, in a decent and useful degree.'

The purpose of drawing, Ruskin believed, may not inspire every one to become great artists, but it may give us a way to express and to see rather than merely look. He went on further,

'My efforts are directed not to making a carpenter an artist, but to making him happier as a carpenter.'

In like manner, a samurai does not necessarily have to be a great poet to write poems, but he does so in order to express and honour his death. Afterwards, he should have his assistant ready holding his sword. Then he will open his robes and pull out a short dagger to cut his stomach open. His assistant will then fatally offer a decisive blow at his head. Seppuku is a work of art.

On the other hand, in ancient Europe, suicide was never respected. It was considered a crime as a violation against the province of God. If we were made in God's image, what right do we have to end our own life?

Suicide is now not considered a crime. It nevertheless elicits some interesting responses. If you tell your friend of your plan to attempt suicide, he will, encouraged by blind optimism, persuade you not to do such stupid thing by informing you all the wonders of the universe that you are able to witness. If a stranger walks by and notice that you are about to jump off of a building, he will, with rarely seen kindness, calls to notify the police to make sure they will send over professionals with expertise in psychology to explain to you the reasons why you should embrace life. Even if the inevitable happens, when it gets on the headlines of every newspaper the other day, people will spontaneously sympathise your death as if a tragedy happens. How kind they are to suddenly remember the virtue of compassion as taught in Christian ethics.

So what is wrong with taking my own life? The life is mine and it seems natural to suppose I have the right to end it as well. What is the point of cherishing life when it is surrounded by misfortunes? How insensible and sadistic these people are. Fortunately, not every one is as insensible. The Swiss offer a new perspective to look at life. They have no patience with all the talks of even euthanasia in most civilised countries. They have taken it a step further and offer a new form of suicide- suicide with medical assistance. This method of suicide is not only applicable to those who are physically unhealthy, but also to those who suffer from no physical illness. Their all-in-one service does not just give you medicine which can put your life to an end peacefully, but it also offers to handle your corpse once it is done.

Through contemplating matters regarding suicide, we may learn how to cherish individual freedom and eradicate our mindsets of imposing social tyranny. Our lives are in our own hands. Their destiny ought not to be determined by those who have no right to possess it. If a man wishes to attempt suicide, let him do so. I do not see by what right we can prevent him from doing so. All prohibitions should not be justified on the ground of preserving the man himself from harm, but of preserving other people from harm. To torture ourselves is to do ourselves injustice. We are not born masochistic. Next time before you look for optimism in self-help books, consult Schopenhauer.

W

Philosophy As A Guide To Human Conduct

I was once asked by someone to recommend some introductory books of philosophy. He told me that he wished philosophy could serve as a guide to human conduct. I usually do not like to recommend books to anyone as the wonders of universe are best to be discovered by our own. Unfortunately, his insistence left me no choice but offered a few suggestions such as Bertrand Russell's The History of Western Philosophy and Alain de Botton's The Consolations of Philosophy. Philosophy has been given the impression that it offers wisdoms of life written by great men in history which could serve as a guide as to how we should live. No doubt philosophy offers wisdoms of great men. But for those who wish philosophy to serve as a guide to human conduct, they are, however, deeply mistaken. Not only philosophy is unable to serve as a guide as to how we should live, but this illusion also shows a lack of understanding of what philosophy actually is.

Philosophy has, in history, changed lives and filled minds. It sheds light upon us as to how we can look at the world from all sorts of different perspectives. Little wonder philosophy has produced different schools of thoughts. Plato argues that our moral values are objective while the utilitarians maintain that our actions are ethical as long as they maximise the happiness of humans. How, then, do we determine which school to follow as our guide to human conduct? Moreover, what seems desirable to you on a certain matter in a school of philosophy does not entail that its views on other matters are desirable to you as well. Nietzschean philosophy, for instance, may be right about Christianity but it may irritate you in the realm of politics after knowing Nietzsche was one of the founders of Nazism.

My second line of argument is of greater importance. Philosophy, like science, appeals to reason. It does not appeal to authority. It is the speculation of matters which have yet no definite answers. It lies in not what opinions are held but how they are held. It does not decide with absolute certainty on what matters are right and wrong. On the contrary, it leaves room for doubt. A philosopher, like a mathematician, should regard a mathematical proof of probability as beautiful and remain fresh open to evidence. Following a certain school of philosophy is no different from declaring this school of thoughts as absolute truth. It glues your mind to fixed assumptions and principles which deeply runs counter to the essence of philosophy. This is how wars of religions were inspired in history which each sect was certain of its beliefs and proclaimed the other was deluded.

Philosophy is not important in the sense that it provides wisdoms of great men, but it is important in how it provokes our rational enquiry and unbiased evaluation of evidence. It cordons off our minds from prejudices and taboos and encourages us to scrutinise societal conventions that are liable to be taken as gospel. In a world where we habitually stifle our doubts and follow the flock, our minds are persecuted by the tyranny of public opinion. The epidemic of this unthinking attitude has found its way to our conception of philosophy. Our personalities are too diverse to be guided by a school of thoughts. Only through a true philosophical outlook, we liberate ourselves from this imprisonment.

W