What is My Fate?
P a g e
for time. Given my uncertainty in any event, I would fain approach my fate like the obscurephilosopher who wrote
My Suicide Note in Twelve Volumes (
lost), and then leapt into thevolcano with his manuscript.What is my fate? I presently feel it is something to be precluded, something definite to beavoided in favor of infinite possibilities. I fear "fate" might spell the end of my careening careerand, since misery loves company, that of the whole race as well. After all, I am in the race. Itfollows that not only my existence but Existence in general is at stake here and now. I am aselfish altruist: I may succumb to the temptation to save the entire world because everything in itrefers to me, wherefore its salvation would be mine as well. Is the world not mine if I save it?Hence I am instinctively inclined to dictate everyone's fate as their salvation. Obviously, nowthat I think of it, it is my fate to save the world with me in it.Indeed, in my originally selfish urge to salvage myself, I detect a drive to make a heroic,altruistic effort to save everyone else; perhaps from the fate of smoking or drinking, or from thefate of being an atheist, or of not attending college, or of being hostile and depressed, and so onand so forth ad infinitum. Otherwise I feel alienated from my true, healthy self or destiny,whatever that may be. Yet that ideal self is damaged, or somehow hidden by rubbish. I cannotfind my favorite subject in the perplexing mirage of my subjectivity: in fact, I cannot find myinside at all except in confusing hearsay. For instance, Jacques Lacan said the existence of elephant excrement proves there really is an inside, but it will take many years for people torealize it. Bosh! So much for excremental culture!I suspect the cause of my disease is outside, in Them. I struggle vainly to find the damagedobjects that They must have implanted in my subjectivity. But I do find defective objects outside,namely, the Others, and, to fix myself, I must try to fix Them, save Them from the diseaseafflicting me. The health benefits of the selfish-altruistic policy will surely trickle down to meand rid me of my fate, if fate be my end. Then I may even ignore myself as a unit, for the diseaseand its cure are collective. Is not being born an individual the original sin? Yes, I could speak asa 'WE' then, from the superior advantage of our cosmic destiny, although I would keep using thepersonal pronoun for the sake of perspective on the Subject.'They', the Others, are certainly problematic as they are. They are more than a nuisance, albeit anopportunity for my own aggrandizement if I am persistent enough to be somebody: their veryresistance proves the merits of my project, as well as the existence of the unconscious demonicforces underfoot, for They have fashioned my opposition and therefore me; without the Others toresist, I would not exist to encounter Them.These thoughts have caused me to remember myself in all the grandeur of my absoluteinsignificance, and to realize how alienated from Them and therefore myself I have become. Imust save the world before I perish along with it. I can imagine my destiny now, if not my fate:Father Reason shall descend from his exalted mountain abode on the triumphant peak of MotherEarth to anoint me, and I, in Father Reason's good name, will found the International League of Alienated Alienists for the provocative invocation of Global Group Therapy on behalf of thepsychically impoverished masses.