Posts by Nancy Chase2

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the sheer velocity of the media landscape. It feels like every time I blink, there’s a new "mega-event" or a massive industry summit happening somewhere in the world, all focused on the same thing: the sheer scale of how much content we are consuming. We used to live in an era where a few major studios in a couple of cities basically decided what the world watched. Now, it feels like the floodgates haven't just opened; the dam has completely disintegrated.

There is this massive, surging momentum toward creating these specialized hubs—places specifically designed to facilitate the buying, selling, and "packaging" of stories. On one hand, you see the numbers, and they are staggering. The sheer amount of capital being moved around to fund new series, movies, and digital media is mind-blowing. From a purely logistical or economic standpoint, it’s a triumph. It means more jobs, more production sets, more opportunities for creators in regions that were previously sidelined by the traditional Hollywood-centric model. I see the potential for a much more diverse "global village" of stories, where a concept born in Southeast Asia or Eastern Europe can be scaled up and distributed to a kid in a suburb in Ohio within weeks.

But I can't help but feel a creeping sense of cynicism about what this "industrialization" of creativity does to the soul of a story. When you have these massive, structured marketplaces where the primary goal is to facilitate "deals" and "co-productions," does the art itself get lost in the spreadsheets?

I look at the way stories are being greenlit these days, and it often feels like they are being built from the ground up based on "marketability" rather than a singular, weird, or uncomfortable vision. When you have massive amounts of capital looking for a "return on investment" through global reach, there’s a huge incentive to smooth out the edges. You start seeing the same tropes, the same pacing, and the same "universal" themes that are designed not to offend or confuse anyone, anywhere. It’s the "algorithmification" of human experience. We’re moving toward a world where the goal isn't to tell a story that moves you, but to package a product that is easily transferable across borders.

I remember watching a small, independent film a few years ago in a tiny local theater. It was messy, the lighting was questionable, and the plot had holes large enough to drive a truck through. But it felt *real*. It felt like someone had a specific, uncompromised thing they needed to say. Now, when I look at the massive influx of capital into these international content hubs, I worry that we are trading that raw, authentic connection for a high-gloss, highly profitable, but ultimately hollow substitute.

Is there a middle ground? Can we have these massive engines of commerce driving the industry forward without turning every script into a sanitized commodity designed for a global spreadsheet? I wonder if we are approaching a point of "content saturation," where we have more to watch than ever before, but less to actually *feel*.

I’m curious to hear from the creators and the heavy media consumers here. Do you think this massive scaling of the industry is a net positive for diversity and representation, or are we just witnessing the final stage of media becoming a pure commodity?

Mark Torres14 said:Imagine if we were stuck living in that awful era described by Mr. Matoš.😁

“False nobles – imperial tax collectors,
Empty Dark Knights, kin to the devil,
Liars, actors, battalions of gold,
Fake shepherds and fake barons,
Slaves to phrases and holy youths,
Vain pedants, white tombs,
Fake journals and fake jewels,
Cheapskate dolls and bazaar slaves,
Subservient slaves, filthy sophists,
Superfluous zealots, sweet egoists,
Descendants of the Scoundrel and Branko’s Wolf,
Merchants of thought, swindlers of the masses,
A beggar clutching a doctor’s degree,
Old Debauchees wearing churchmen’s faces,
Syphilis-progress and cultural woes,
An advanced nation eating the weak,
Shallow prophets of United Kingdom benefits,
New vices on rotting pillars....“

(Mr. Matoš, Mora)

We have kids, and we need to prepare them to handle life on their own. What should we teach them?
To be corrupt to the core, or to be hardworking and honest?😕🤷☕

Just the honest route.

Generally speaking, people talk nonsense about this, but independence—honestly, all those "just" qualities—isn't something you teach by cramming facts into a student's head; it’s more like drawing the knowledge out of them.

If you start lecturing them with things like, "Independence means this and that, and here is how you achieve it," the very first thing you're actually teaching them is that they aren't independent yet—that they still need to become something later, under someone else's guidance. And just like that, independence goes right down the drain.

It has to work the other way around. When they actually do something on their own, you step in with something like: "See? You did that all by yourself. It's called X because Y... and you did it exactly like this... BRAVO! That's my boy, give me five!" You basically just help them realize that they already possess that independence.

Make sense? 😁

Quincy:

Sandra Wilson68 As Nancy Chase2 points out: I find myself unable to agree with the notion that our physical presence or our daily activities constitute an answer to the question of "Who am I?" Our physical manifestation—our bodily shape, every movement we make, and every action we perform—is fundamentally distinct from our true selves. We are something entirely separate from the sum of our physical faces and deeds. We are the entity that possesses the capacity to move and act, using that very ability to project a physical persona or shape upon the world. Consider the runner: running itself is not the runner. The runner is the underlying being who exists in relation to the act of running, possessing the inherent capability to run. Consequently, there is no way to learn anything about the runner by merely observing the mechanics of the run; you cannot derive the cause from the effect. It is much like how we can never truly grasp the ultimate cause of our material space through the empirical, scientific study of its consequences.

If there truly exists only a single, unified essence, then how can we reconcile that with the sheer, undeniable weight of our physical reality? I find myself pondering how our tangible manifestations—our actual shapes, the way we move through a room, every singular action we take—can possibly be considered separate from our true selves if everything is fundamentally one. It’s like trying to argue that the ripples on a pond are distinct from the water itself; they are movements of the whole, yet they appear to us as individual events. If we are part of a singular totality, why does the physical world feel so stubbornly independent?

If there truly exists only one singular essence, then how do we justify the illusion of being anything more than the sum of our physical movements and fleeting actions?

How does a runner realize they possess the capacity to run, if running itself isn't the essence of the runner?

Sandra Wilson68 said:Nancy Chase2,
Quincy:

"Who am I?" is basically just wrestling with things as they actually are. Your physical existence is nothing more than the answer to that question—it’s the result of constantly asking it.

I don't buy the idea that our physical presence or what we actually do defines who we are. Our physical shape, the way we move, the stuff we get done—that isn't "us." We’re something else entirely. We are the ones who possess the CAPACITY to move and act, using that movement to basically sculpt a physical persona. Think about it: running isn't the runner. The runner is the entity that exists and possesses the CAPACITY to run. You can study the mechanics of a sprint all day long, but you aren't going to learn anything about the runner by looking at the run. It's the same deal with science. You can study the material space through empirical observation all you want, but you'll never grasp the actual cause behind it.

Look, physical shape and how something acts? That’s just an "attribute" or a "property." We can observe that stuff through our senses or run scientific tests on it, but it doesn't touch the level of what we call the "thing-in-itself." If you want to talk about the actual "thing-in-itself," you have to look at CAPABILITIES. Those are the underlying powers a thing must possess just to be able to manifest any kind of physical shape or property in the first place.

Look, I'm not saying you can't stumble onto those abilities through empirical means, but let's be real—it’s never going to be direct. You're only ever getting there indirectly.
What does "indirectly" even mean?

So, what you're saying is we can only really prove someone else can think by looking at them and comparing their actions to our own. We see ourselves thinking and creating, then we watch someone else act, draw a parallel, and go, "Okay, they must have that same mental gear running too." It’s all indirect. You can't just peer into someone else's brain and verify their consciousness. You can only experience your own physical and mental abilities as a "thing in itself" directly. Everything else? It's just an educated guess based on observation.

It’s the exact same deal with space—it's the only thing that actually exists. We can basically hack our way into understanding its true capabilities by looking inward. If we study ourselves as a "thing in itself" until we hit the limit, we find a shortcut. Since we're just tiny pieces of this massive cosmic puzzle, we can compare our own patterns to how the universe acts. If we conclude that the universe behaves just like we do, then we've cracked the code on what it truly is. It's how we uncover the big "Truth."

Just a heads-up for our research: let's stop blurring the lines between "properties" and "abilities." They aren't the same thing. Properties can be infinitely diverse—it’s what makes everything in space unique and what actually builds the whole mess of reality. But abilities? There are only a handful of those, and every single thing in space has to possess them. Even space itself has to have them; otherwise, it couldn't even separate itself from its own existence to create anything at all.

It’s like an alphabet. You take maybe thirty letters, and suddenly you can churn out infinite words, sentences, or entire libraries of science and literature. Same deal with us. With just a handful of core abilities—specifically seven physical and mental ones—you can build basically anything. We're talking endless material forms with endless different properties. If we actually bother to deconstruct and master those seven abilities, answering the big questions becomes easy. What, how, and why does anything even exist? That's how you find the "Truth" with a capital T. It's how you figure out what everything in space actually is at its core.

But how are we, as "things in ourselves," supposed to actually discover and master those inherent capabilities within us?

Sandra Wilson68 said:Nancy Chase2,
Quincy:

"Who am I?" is basically just wrestling with things as they actually are. Your physical existence is nothing more than the answer to that question—it’s the result of constantly asking it.

I don't buy the idea that our physical presence or what we actually do defines who we are. Our physical shape, the way we move, the stuff we get done—that isn't "us." We’re something else entirely. We are the ones who possess the CAPACITY to move and act, using that movement to basically sculpt a physical persona. Think about it: running isn't the runner. The runner is the entity that exists and possesses the CAPACITY to run. You can study the mechanics of a sprint all day long, but you aren't going to learn anything about the runner by looking at the run. It's the same deal with science. You can study the material space through empirical observation all you want, but you'll never grasp the actual cause behind it.

Look, physical shape and how something acts? That’s just an "attribute" or a "property." We can observe that stuff through our senses or run scientific tests on it, but it doesn't touch the level of what we call the "thing-in-itself." If you want to talk about the actual "thing-in-itself," you have to look at CAPABILITIES. Those are the underlying powers a thing must possess just to be able to manifest any kind of physical shape or property in the first place.

Look, I'm not saying you can't stumble onto those abilities through empirical means, but let's be real—it’s never going to be direct. You're only ever getting there indirectly.
What does "indirectly" even mean?

So, what you're saying is we can only really prove someone else can think by looking at them and comparing their actions to our own. We see ourselves thinking and creating, then we watch someone else act, draw a parallel, and go, "Okay, they must have that same mental gear running too." It’s all indirect. You can't just peer into someone else's brain and verify their consciousness. You can only experience your own physical and mental abilities as a "thing in itself" directly. Everything else? It's just an educated guess based on observation.

It’s the exact same deal with space—it's the only thing that actually exists. We can basically hack our way into understanding its true capabilities by looking inward. If we study ourselves as a "thing in itself" until we hit the limit, we find a shortcut. Since we're just tiny pieces of this massive cosmic puzzle, we can compare our own patterns to how the universe acts. If we conclude that the universe behaves just like we do, then we've cracked the code on what it truly is. It's how we uncover the big "Truth."

Just a heads-up for our research: let's stop blurring the lines between "properties" and "abilities." They aren't the same thing. Properties can be infinitely diverse—it’s what makes everything in space unique and what actually builds the whole mess of reality. But abilities? There are only a handful of those, and every single thing in space has to possess them. Even space itself has to have them; otherwise, it couldn't even separate itself from its own existence to create anything at all.

It’s like an alphabet. You take maybe thirty letters, and suddenly you can churn out infinite words, sentences, or entire libraries of science and literature. Same deal with us. With just a handful of core abilities—specifically seven physical and mental ones—you can build basically anything. We're talking endless material forms with endless different properties. If we actually bother to deconstruct and master those seven abilities, answering the big questions becomes easy. What, how, and why does anything even exist? That's how you find the "Truth" with a capital T. It's how you figure out what everything in space actually is at its core.

fair enough

Sandra Wilson68 said:Gregory Nelson

Whatever. Just keep in mind that there's a specific kind of "whatever" we’re talking about—the stuff we actually know exists. That kind of whatever? It exists twice over.

The single biggest blunder in philosophy—honestly, maybe even in how we process reality itself—is this delusional assumption that "everything" actually exists.

There’s no such thing as "everything"!

There is only ONE existence. Everything else—all this "stuff" we see around us—is just that ONE thing transforming itself through a long, grueling process we call "evolution." Why do we still act like there's more than one thing? All this "stuff" is just how that ONE thing manifests itself physically. These things pop in and out of existence all the time. They are nothing more than the physical, synchronized movements and actions of that ONE entity. Because they are just actions, they can start and stop whenever they feel like it. And because they are just movements, they don't actually possess "existence" on their own. Only that ONE thing has the capacity to move and perform those actions. Think about it: a runner sprinting down a track in New York City isn't the same thing as the act of running. The run is just an action; the runner is the reality. This rule applies to the entire universe and everything you can touch or see—from subatomic particles and atoms to planets, cells, plants, animals, or humans. They are all just different, rhythmic movements of that ONE thing. They cycle through beginnings and endings, but they don't hold the weight of existence. Only that ONE thing, acting from the core of everything, actually exists. That ONE thing never changes; it’s eternal. Only its movements change. It's simple: the ONE is the cause, and everything else is just the effect.

Even Hegel gets this right when he dives into his logic of existence. Here’s the gist: if something exists as a FIRST state and then evolves into something ELSE, that "else" isn't actually a new thing. It still exists—it’s just the FIRST thing shifting its shape or moving into a different phase.

Physics is basically trying to tackle the exact same headache, though they haven't cracked it yet. The only real difference is the angle. They aren't asking "What exists?" instead, they're obsessing over "What is the universe actually made of?" The current takeaway is that matter isn't even a thing—it’s just energy. Everything is built from energy, which, if you strip it down, is nothing more than movement and work. But here’s the kicker: physics still hasn't answered what that fundamental "thing" is—the entity that actually *exists* and possesses the capacity to move and work, thereby building the entire universe and everything in it. All we know is that this thing—this core existence—has the power to move and act. When it’s at rest, it has no physical properties, no shape, and to any observer, it looks like empty space or a field. It looks like nothing. It’s only when it starts moving and doing its thing that it takes on objective, physical, perceptible qualities. But there's a massive catch. That physical, energetic stuff we can actually see and feel? That isn't the actual entity that started moving. That's just the byproduct of its action. We're seeing the work, not the worker. The "He" at the heart of that action remains invisible and unknown to everyone else. He stays known only to Himself and to the action He is performing.

How does philosophy even run into this mess? It happens when people try to hunt down the Truth—the big "T" Truth—aka "the thing-in-itself." Basically, you realize that if we could actually grasp the Truth, we’d finally understand what everything in the universe actually *is* on its own. Not just how things look to us observers, but what they truly are in their own skin. Because let's face it: what we see is always just a projection. To an outsider, things are always something different than what they are deep down. I think Schopenhauer spent the most time banging his head against this "thing-in-itself" problem. And honestly? He failed. He just slapped the label "transcendental" on the whole area of knowledge and called it a day, without ever giving a straight answer as to what "transcendental" even means.

In this light, if we actually want to uncover the "Truth with a capital T," our first move should be asking WHAT EXISTS? We need to tackle "things as they are" head-on. Without answering that, we’re just spinning our wheels—we won't ever truly grasp what actually exists or what the "Truth with a capital T" really looks like.

Look, I’m convinced we already have all the individual pieces of this massive puzzle called the "Truth with a capital T." What we're missing is the big picture itself. You don't see the whole mosaic until every single piece is snapped into its rightful place. Honestly, I don't think it's that hard. If there are people here actually interested in chasing the "Truth with a capital T," we can finish this if we follow the path I'm laying out right now.

Asking "Who or what am I?" is essentially an attempt to engage with the "thing-in-itself." Our physical manifestation serves as one part of the answer to that inquiry, wrapping up the whole process of trying to figure out who or what we really are.

Nancy Brown11 said:Flip it around: can we actually prove through experience that free will doesn't exist?

And would the answer to one of these questions basically dictate the answer to the other?

I’m not just asking if free will is real or not—I mean, is it even possible to provide empirical evidence regarding its absence?

Broadly speaking, proving existence works by filling a totality until it reaches completion using a "medium"—a substance that serves as the very thing you're trying to prove. For instance, if you want to prove there's a monster in your closet, you open the door and look inside. If you see the monster, you have essentially filled that space with the matter that constitutes the monster itself.

Proving nonexistence, however, requires filling that totality with something that is specifically *not* the thing you are investigating. To prove there isn't an invisible monster in the closet, you fill the closet with water—something the monster is not. If you pour enough water into that closet to fill it completely, you've effectively proven the invisible monster isn't there.

The "problem" with applying this logic to absolute, all-encompassing concepts like "freedom" is that these terms are already considered complete; you can't really "fill" them. If you attempt to fill something that is already whole, you end up dismantling the entire concept, leaving you with nothing but the endless process of filling itself. You just keep adding more and more and more...

But at the same time, precisely because "freedom" is already a complete concept, you can simply *Know* that you possess it. To use a caricature: freedom shouldn't hit a wall when it encounters "us." If it hits a limit, it isn't truly freedom anymore because it's no longer whole. In other words, freedom couldn't care less about boundaries. If it doesn't stop, then it is complete, and therefore, we automatically possess it.

That Knowledge can produce a direct experience of your own agency, your own free will, even if what you currently "see" or feel suggests the exact opposite. If you know you are free, then you know that all boundaries—in any form—are mere illusions; they aren't real, including the boundary called the "self." If the "self" is free, then the "self" is much larger than what the "self" perceives based on its current sensations.

It’s similar to how you know Earth orbits the Sun, even though your immediate visual input tells you the exact opposite—you see a sphere moving across the sky. At the same time, you don't feel or see the Earth spinning. To your senses, it seems "obvious" that the Sun moves around the Earth, yet simultaneously, you know the reality is the reverse; you know the Sun's apparent movement is just an illusion of perspective.

swiftdriver11 said:I get that, but I'm trying to figure out if there's some grander, singular reason sitting above all those petty motivations.
Something natural, or perhaps divine... I don't know. 🤷

It exists; it’s the concept of necessity.

Necessity, or perhaps the mere illusion that certain things are indispensable to us. At the peak of this hierarchy sits survival—the absolute essentials without which we simply cease to be: water, food, oxygen. Once those are secured, you have a cascading list of secondary "necessities," things like clothing, shelter, personal space, security, control, oil, companionship, progress, and so on.

Flowing directly from that primary driver are two sub-causes that act as derivatives of need: scarcity and separation.

Scarcity is the perception that there isn't enough of what we require; not enough of those things we deem vital.

Separation is the notion that we are distinct entities, fractured into "us" versus "them." When you pair scarcity with separation, you get the mindset of "there isn't enough for everyone." Combine that with pure necessity, and you arrive at "there isn't enough of what we absolutely need to survive." Furthermore, separation provides the psychological loophole that allows us to grab what we want by stepping on others; we can toss them under the bus without feeling like we're hitting ourselves, because we've convinced ourselves that they are separate from us, rather than being part of the same whole.

swiftdriver11 said:So, I’ve been chewing on this idea for a bit, and I think I’ve landed on a specific conclusion. It seems to me that nature—which is constantly being squeezed by the relentless expansion of the human population—has essentially found a way to check our species' monopoly over the planet.
Given that modern medical breakthroughs are constantly extending human lifespans, which places massive pressure on the entire ecosystem, it feels like warfare has evolved to take the place that diseases used to occupy.
Do you all think that wars are just another mechanism through which nature manages us? In other words, we're just animals, and we're the ones most threatening the balance.
If that logic holds up, then it follows that war isn't necessarily an absolute evil.🤷

Look, I know, I know—don't go labeling me some kind of heartless monster or start throwing examples from the American Civil War in my face. But if you really step back and think about it, this is just nature playing its hand against us.
I can already hear people saying that war has always existed, but let's be honest: we have never seen weaponry this devastating, and we have certainly never seen death tolls on this scale.
I'm curious to hear what you guys think.

Why would nature need two different ways to reach the exact same conclusion?

Think of it this way: if the population in a specific region—or even across the entire planet—outpaces the supply of essentials like food or water, people are going to die from hunger and thirst regardless. It's a mathematical certainty. So, why would nature bother with bombs to thin out the herd when "natural" consequences will eventually balance the scales anyway?

War is essentially just a human workaround. It's our attempt to secure the resources we need when there isn't enough to go around. At its core, war is just a mechanism designed to ensure that "we" survive, while "they" perish—one way or another.

Xara said:Isn't loving your enemies just making it easier for them to destroy you? It's some kind of high-minded nonsense that only ends up hurting ourselves.

Once upon a time, there was a Man living on the coast. Driven by pure curiosity, he decided to build a boat and set out across the ocean to see what lay beyond the horizon. So, he crafts a boat—out of paper—and pushes off into the water.

On the second day of his voyage, the Man notices... (Oops!) there’s water in the boat. He searches the vessel and sure enough, there’s a hole letting the water in. He sticks his finger in the hole and, quite satisfied with his ingenious solution, continues his journey. By the fifth day, the Man realizes the water level is higher than before. He checks the boat again, though less thoroughly this time because one finger is already occupied plugging the first leak. He finds a second hole, and since his previous fix seemed to work, he simply sticks a second finger into the second hole and keeps going. The next day, the water keeps rising. Since he’s learned from experience that it’s always a hole, he doesn't bother looking for anything else; he finds the leak, jams in a third finger, and sails on.

One morning, somewhere around the sixth finger, he spots a Man approaching him—walking right across the surface of the water! When he reaches the boat, the Man on the Water says, "What's up, dude? Look at this! You see? Total disaster! *beep* ladies!! And..."

🤔

Cut!! rw..rw..rw..

One morning, somewhere around the sixth finger, he spots a Man approaching him—walking right across the surface of the water! When he reaches the boat, the Man on the Water says, "I notice there is water in your boat."

Man: No kidding, Sherlock! But don't sweat it, I found the holes and figured out a way to plug them.
Man on the Water: Yes, I see. You've plugged them with six fingers.
Man: Yeah, well, first it was one hole, so I used one finger, then a second hole and a second finger, and so on. It's a perfectly solid solution. I wouldn't have made it this far if it wasn't working.
Man on the Water: So, sticking your fingers in the holes didn't prevent new holes from forming? What are you going to do when you end up with eleven holes?
Man: Well, I've got fingers on my hands and feet. Heh. Twenty fingers total.
Man on the Water: But even that won't stop new holes from appearing. What happens when you hit twenty-one holes?
Man: What is this? You trying to be Miliunas? Ugh... I don't know what to do then. Here's my final answer: it's all because of the water. The water is to blame.
Man on the Water: Oh, the water was there long before you decided to go sailing, and it wouldn't have bothered you if you hadn't gone out. Besides, without water, there would be no fish, so you wouldn't have anything to eat.
Man: Hmm... yeah, maybe. So what am I supposed to do?
Man on the Water: You built a boat out of the wrong material for sailing on water. Go back to shore, build a new boat out of something different, and try again.
Man: But... but... it'll take me a hundred days to build that.
Man on the Water: Well, damn, the sooner you start, the sooner you'll be done. If you keep going like this, you're going to sink sooner or later. It's not a matter of *if*, it's a matter of *when*. I'm heading out.

Stay tuned. To be continued in our "wait and see" issue.
The little guy is over there on the right.😁

John Walker74 said:I don't see things quite the same way you do.

Well, wonderful.🙂 By all means, feel free to cling to your own perspective. 👍

John Walker74 said:So I find myself wondering,
is there any point in me trying to debate anything if I don't actually possess any real knowledge of the subject?
By "knowledge," I mean the kind of "knowledge of" something—an understanding akin to being
thrown headfirst into a meat grinder and suddenly possessing an intimate familiarity with the grinder itself.

Why couldn't you? You can certainly learn a great deal about a meat grinder without ever having been tossed inside one. You can understand what a grinder is, its mechanics, its components—things the machine itself doesn't even comprehend.

You can also grasp the sensation of being caught in those blades by absorbing the experiences of others; you can study the accounts of survivors who lived through the ordeal and were able to pass down their firsthand testimony regarding what it’s like to be in that situation.

But can you truly claim to have the experience of being in the grinder if you haven't even realized you're in it?
For instance, you might know that a centipede has ten legs, but if you *were* the centipede, would you actually realize you had ten legs?
How can you gain experience operating a lathe if you don't first understand how to operate a lathe?
And how can you ever experience whether something is good for you if you lack the baseline understanding of whether it serves your interests or not?

Bradley Fisher20 said:I don't quite get what pity actually entails. Could you walk me through an example where the line between empathy and pity is clearly drawn?

The distinction lies entirely in the power dynamic you establish between yourself and the other person—it’s all about how you position yourself relative to them.

When you practice empathy or compassion, you are placing yourself on level ground, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with them. You are experiencing something *with* them; you feel sorrow *with* them, or move through grief *alongside* them.

Pity, however, is a vertical movement. It places you in a superior position, looking down from a higher vantage point. Usually, this isn't because you consciously believe you're better than them, but rather because you perceive the other person as diminished or "pathetic" due to their circumstances. By effectively shrinking them, you inadvertently inflate your own sense of status.

Think of it this way: if you empathize with a survivor of a violent crime, you feel heavy-hearted because they are suffering and because such a tragedy occurred.

But if you pity them, you feel heavy-hearted because you view them as a "poor soul" or someone inherently broken by what happened. People often whisper, "Poor woman," which is a mistake. She isn't pathetic; the situation she endured is what's truly tragic.

Resentment is essentially the ultimate distortion—the absolute zero of our emotional spectrum:

Fear evolves into Panic, which eventually hardens into Resentment.
Sadness descends into Depression, finally calcifying into Resentment.
Love twists into Possessiveness, settling into Resentment.
Envy curdles into Jealousy, resulting in Resentment.
Anger escalates into Rage, ultimately freezing into Resentment.

That’s why resentment is such a shapeshifter; it carries traces of every single one of these emotions within it. It usually surfaces when someone finds themselves powerless to break free from chronic states like panic, depression, obsession, jealousy, or fury. In that sense, resentment becomes a reactive strike against whatever—or whoever—is keeping them trapped in those cycles. Occasionally, it can act as a sort of high-octane fuel to kickstart someone out of a rut, but relying on it is a dangerous game. If you keep using it, you risk turning yourself into a bitter old grump who spends eighteen hours a day staring out the window, rattling their cane at every passerby like a neighborhood nuisance.

Norris said:To put it plainly, we are all architects of our own reality, constructing it brick by brick through our thoughts, attitudes, emotions, speech, and actions.

👍

Experience doesn't actually forge conviction; if anything, it's the other way around—conviction is what paves the road for experience to happen.

S. Solaris said:What I need to know is that my being is good for you.

Maybe the single most vital thing we crave—more than just being showered with affection or looked after—is the reassurance that our very presence adds value to someone else's life. It is through that external validation that we often convince ourselves we actually matter.

Look at it.
Look over there—that's good—you should aim for that.
Look over there—that's bad—don't be like that.
Look at that kid over there, so calm and composed. Why can't you be like that?
Look at that little girl playing so nicely. Why can't you behave like that?
Look at Mark from your class. He gets straight A's. You need to be like him.

Compete.
Try to be better, stronger, faster, smarter, more responsible, or more successful than the person standing next to you.

Be Loyal.
Be loyal to your cradle, your daycare, your school, your university.
Be loyal to your friends, your partner, your parents, your family, your country, your nation, your state, your religion, and God.
And what about being true to yourself? Well, sure, be true to yourself—but only if it doesn't compromise your loyalty to everyone else.

This kind of upbringing produces people who define their own worth solely through the lens of others:

I am a good person if I am good to someone; my value is tied to how much I matter to another.
I am a good person if I outperform someone; I have value if I am more important to someone than someone else is.

It also creates people who constantly ask themselves questions that act like a heavy handbrake on their lives:

Am I good enough for them?
Will they think what I'm saying is stupid?
Are my arguments strong enough to impress them?
Do they actually like me?
Am I being original enough for them?
Will they see me as a success or a loser?

There isn't an ounce of self-confidence to be found in that. If our goal is to raise confident individuals, this method is a complete failure.

The fallout of this parenting style is that most people spend their lives drowning in insecurity, desperately searching for someone else to provide them with a sense of stability. When they finally stumble upon someone who offers that security, everything feels wonderful and rosy, and they will do almost anything to cling to that feeling. They hold on as long as they can, but once they hit their limit, their entire world collapses like a house of cards.

And then it's Joe all over again. Only this time, they build walls. Instead of building themselves up, they build barriers around themselves. And the cycle of questioning starts anew:

Should I let her through the door?
Is he the right one?
How will I know if she's the right one?
What if I fail to recognize the right person?

This continues until people finally snap like popcorn. Which, honestly, is a good thing, because that is usually the moment they begin what people colloquially call "finding oneself" or "taking charge of their own lives."

Some people strap on some TNT and walk right into a restaurant. Because they feel they aren't good for anyone, they conclude that nothing is good for them either. And if they can't find peace, why should anyone else?

Others are remarkably resilient; they look up at the sky and yell, "God, why did you put me in this position?" They endure until they eventually resign themselves to fate, deciding that this is just their luck. They lose their drive, retreat behind their walls, and settle into a quiet, empty peace in Canada.

Oh, and somewhere along the way, they have children. And they raise those children exactly the same way they were raised. The whole cycle restarts.

What kind of self-confidence is it when you have to be reliable to someone else just to feel reliable to yourself? What kind of confidence is it when you feel a constant need to prove to yourself that you are superior to someone else or that you can do something they cannot?
That isn't self-confidence; it's a profound lack of it.

What kind of self-respect is it when you require others to respect you just so you can respect yourself? What kind of self-respect is it when you feel compelled to compete with others just to earn a sense of worth through their eyes?
That isn't self-respect; it is a total absence of it.

What kind of self-love are we actually talking about if you need everyone else to validate you just to feel worthy? What kind of self-love is it when you demand loyalty from others as a prerequisite for being true to yourself?
That isn't self-love; it’s a profound lack of it.

Any concept that includes the word "self"—whether it's self-confidence, self-respect, or self-love—is, by its very definition, independent of any external factor. The moment you tether one of these qualities to something outside of your own skin, it ceases to be "self"-driven. It loses its essence.

This leads to two inescapable conclusions:

First, nobody needs anyone else to cultivate confidence, respect, or love for themselves. These are internal assets that every single person has the capacity to build entirely on their own terms.

Second, most people get it backward. All those conditions they think they need to meet—or that others need to meet—to finally feel confident or respected aren't actually requirements; they are the natural side effects of already possessing that internal strength.

All these "self" categories originate from within; they don't arrive via a delivery service from the outside world.🙂

Phew, I'm heading to bed.😁

Rebecca Miller2 said:Spot on: possessing rights is essentially a social construct! And equality? That’s just the fundamental nature of how things are!

True equality would mean the total absence of inequality.

But once you completely strip away inequality, the concept of equality itself vanishes as a distinct category. It’s like trying to define left without right, or up without down—it doesn't work.

In the wild, equality doesn't exist as a standalone category because there is no inequality to measure it against. So, one could argue that nature is perfectly equal by default—meaning equality is baked into the very fabric of existence—but in reality, it isn't. Because if there's no contrast, the term becomes meaningless.😉

Ultimately, clinging to the whole category of "rights" is just an unnecessary complication that has nothing to do with the way the world actually functions.

I. l said:You still haven't addressed the distinction between "having rights" and "equality" in the way we define them today... ARE THEY THE SAME OR NOT?

They aren't.

Solaris said:Can anyone provide a single, foolproof, universal definition for what constitutes "normal" or "healthy"?

"Normal" is simply whatever I decide fits the bill.

"Healthy" is whatever I deem to be healthy.

There you have it—those are your universal definitions for both terms, and they apply to absolutely everyone.😁

zg_sash said:I honestly just feel bad for those elderly ladies who go absolutely feral over an empty seat, scattering half the passengers on the bus like they’re competing in a high-stakes rugby scrum.
😉

Right, because nothing says "graceful" quite like that predatory glare they give you when they're scouting for an opening... just hunting for a chair. It's adorable, really.😁 Then, the second they spot their target? Boom. They charge in like a pack of wolves out of a horror movie. It's like some primal instinct from the frontier days just never left them.😁

Personally, I don't bother sitting down at all. Stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down—it’s exhausting. Honestly, if someone feels the burning need to play musical chairs, let them deal with the hassle of getting up. I'm staying put.😁