Culture – sethlewis.ie

The Treasure Chest at the Train Station

One morning as my wife and I were waiting for a train at our local station, I cast my eyes over the familiar utilitarian scene with its phone-holding inhabitants and I noticed something I had never paid attention to before. On the far side of the tracks there was an unassuming yellow-plastic treasure chest. I could see a padlock on it, but the latch was in front of the lock, ready to open. On the front it had large, black letters openly declared its contents: “Grit Salt”. I realise that this may not sound like treasure to you, or interesting or surprising or exceptional at all—and that’s just the point.

Feeding (a poem)

little love-heart likes
like drops of red rain
rain upon my image
imagine the approval—
approval!
       in my veins
in vain I try to keep it
it’s gone—the world moves on
on to ever newer stories
stories so sensational
sense is pushed aside
side yourself with someone
one side or the other—
other news is coming up
upward trending—multiplying
lying?
       maybe, I can’t tell
tell you what I saw just now
now is moving far too fast
faster still, the flow won’t stop
stop!
       or will it take us under?
understand that we will never
never find our fill
filling up on what this feed
feeds us

The Trouble Underneath

The problems in our world are easy to find. A quick glance at the headlines will prove that point at any time, any day. The more challenging search is for solutions that actually work, although there are always plenty of proposals. Every politician has a proven plan. Every organisation has a confident vision. Every government and charitable society invests its energy and resources into problem-solving—and yet, for all that, the problems persist, unsolved.

Becoming an Interesting Person

The ad popped up and promised to help me become an interesting person at parties. Should I be offended at what my algorithm is implying?

It told me the best way for me to stop being boring is to use an app that summarises the main ideas of popular books. With a tool like this, I could get all the key talking points quickly and efficiently, and always sound thoughtful and informed. Would people be impressed? Perhaps. But I’m not going to buy the app. I think the ad made at least three major assumptions about becoming an interesting person that are just plain wrong (besides the assumption that I’m obviously boring at parties, which I hope is also false).

Does Heaven Move More Slowly?

The area we live in is booming. The fields are growing houses, and there are rivers of tail lights flooding the little roads that used to flow freely. As I sat in the car, waiting again, I thought about how the people who lived here in generations past used to get around. It was walking, mostly, at the pace of people or animals, and even with the traffic my car is faster than that. On the other hand, I know that walking is healthier, and also when I walk I often bump into people I know and we might have a friendly chat—which isn’t possible when we only glimpse each other through passing windscreens. All of this got me thinking about a question I’d never considered before: what kind of transportation will we use in Heaven?

The Growing Power of Wilful Ignorance

She didn’t want to go to the dentist.

My friend already knew she had cavities, and she knew the dentist would want to do something about them. If she avoided seeing him, she could ignore the problem a little longer. It’s easy to ignore a cavity if the tooth is still functioning. Drills and fillings feel drastic when it’s entirely possible to carry on as normal with no intervention at all. The easiest way to deal with a little bit of decay is to apply a little bit of wilful ignorance to it. The trouble, of course, is that wilful ignorance is not an effective treatment for cavities. It only gives them time to grow. And as the decay grows, the wilful ignorance will have to grow with it. To keep a growing problem out of our minds, we must continually increase the capacity of our tolerance for it, slowly expanding the diameter of our blind spots to fit over its ugly edges.

A Thousand Lives (a poem)

Here’s a poem to compliment my previous post, A Treasure Chest for Thoughts

I have often wandered in
The Hundred Acre Wood
If you’ve never been to Neverland
I’ll tell you that you could
But mind yourself—
There’s pirates there
And don’t trust Long John Silver
You need a bear like ol’ Baloo,
The jungle-wisdom giver
I’ve been in boats with Rat and Mole
And Huckleberry Finn
And for a time the Pevensies
Were pretty much my kin
I cried when Old Dan died and I
Rejoiced when Gandalf was revived
And I have lived a thousand lives
While sitting by the bookshelf

The Other Side Of Human Rights

Some of the most common language in cultural and political debate these days (besides comparing people to Nazis) is the language of rights. In the Enlightenment era, philosophers began to lay a particular emphasis on the idea that humans have natural rights, and this concept has driven social change ever since. The idea was not invented by the philosophers, it was only rediscovered. It was already built in to the Christian foundations of their civilisation. As the U.S. Declaration Of Independence put it, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights”.

Our ancestors’ emphasis on rights was a new and necessary correction to a social order that was terribly out of balance. Their culture needed to remember that every human is valuable beyond calculating because every human is made in the image of God himself, and because of this, every human has a right to be treated with respect and fairness by their fellow humans. We, the children of our enlightened forebearers, no longer find concepts like equality and fairness difficult to accept. These values are no longer revolutionary. They are the basic assumptions we grow up with. But I’m afraid our emphasis on rights has led us to a different kind of imbalance.

A Bridge Through Time (a poem)

This poem is inspired by a man I once saw on Charles Bridge in Prague.

The Never-Ending Novelty Of Staying With The Same Person

Love songs will never go out of fashion. But have you noticed that most love songs are limited to the very first stages of love? They’re almost always about two specific topics: either the excitement of meeting someone new, or the sadness of breaking up. It’s rare to hear love songs that focus on love in the decades after the “I do’s”. They’re out there, certainly, but they don’t make the top twenty lists.

It makes sense—by sheer numbers, there are a lot more relationships that start and end than relationships that go the distance. Perhaps the excitement of meeting someone new seems more interesting than the settled daily living of established relationships. There’s an appearance of novelty to it, except that when every song on the radio is about the same kind of novelty it doesn’t quite feel as novel anymore, does it?