Chapter 39 Section 37

Long walks start at noon.I didn't know beforehand that it was going to turn into a long walk.I thought that a half-hour walk around campus by Murray and Jack would turn into a wide-ranging and complex contemplation.But it turned into a big afternoon, a no-nonsense, Socratic walk in circles, with practical results. I met Murray after I had finished discussing car crashes, and we wandered along the edge of campus, past cedar-roofed apartments built among the trees—built to blend in with their surroundings, in popular defensive fashion. The clusters of houses are united as one, with the result that birds keep coming and hitting the plate glass of the windows.

"You're smoking a pipe now," I said. Murray smiled furtively. "It doesn't look bad, I like the way it looks, it works." He smiled and lowered his eyes.A pipe has a long, thin pipe and a cone.It was pale brown, like a strictly regulated piece of household furniture, perhaps an antique of the Omani sect or of the Omani sect.I don't know if he fancy it to match the rather serious beard on his chin.There seemed to be a tradition of stern virtue in his gesture and expression. "Why can't we be more rational about death?" "It's obvious."

"yes?" "Screaming for three days. That's about as much reason as we can get. Tolstoy himself was trying to figure it out. He himself was terribly afraid of death." "It's almost like saying that our fear brings death. If we can learn not to be afraid, we can live forever." "Let's talk and talk among ourselves, and talk like this. Is that what you mean?" "I don't know what I mean. I just know I'm in a life pose. Medically speaking, I'm dead. I'm growing a nebula-like mass in my body. They're tracking these things like satellites ...all of this is a result of a side effect of pesticides. There is something artificial about my death. It is shallow and unattainable. I do not belong to this earth or sky. They should Carve a smoking can on my tombstone."

"well said." Well said, what does he mean by that?I want him to argue with me, to take my death to the next level, to make me feel a little better. "Do you think that's unfair?" he said. "Of course I think so. Is it perhaps an old-fashioned answer?" He seemed to shrug his shoulders. "Look at the way I've lived my life. Is my life a crazy pleasure-seeking life? Am I doing illegal drugs, driving fast, drinking too much, desperate to destroy myself? Just drinking a little at staff meetings Just dry sherry. I eat mild food with less stimulation."

"No, you're not like that." He smoked his pipe earnestly, his cheeks sunken in.We walked for a while in silence. "Do you think your death came sooner?" he said. "Everyone's death comes early. There's no scientific reason why we shouldn't live to be a hundred and fifty years old. Some people really live that long, according to the newspaper headlines I read in the supermarket." "Do you think that an awareness of 'incompleteness' produces your deepest regrets? There are things you still hope to accomplish, work to do, and intellectual challenges to face."

"The deepest regret is death. The only thing to face is death. That's all I think about. There's only one problem here—I want to live." "A reference to Robert Wise's film of the same name - in which Susan Hayward plays Barbara Graham, a convicted murderess. The soundtrack is bold jazz composed by Johnny Mundell." I look at him. "So you're saying, Jack, that even if you've achieved everything you've ever hoped to achieve in life and work, death is still just as threatening." "Are you crazy? Of course, it's an elitist philosophy. You'd ask a guy who bags groceries: the reason he fears death is not because it's death, but because there are some interesting groceries Want him to bag it?"

"well said." "It's death. I don't want it to linger even for a moment so I can write a thesis. I want it to go away for seventy or eighty years." "Your dying situation gives your words a certain prestige and authority. I like that. As time gets closer, I think you'll find that people will be eager to hear what you have to say. They'll find ways to find you." "Are you saying this is a great chance for me to win friends?" "I'm saying you can't sink down to self-pity and despair and fail the living. People look to you to be brave. What people look for in a dying friend is a persistent, rugged nobility, Refusing to give in, showing relentless humor from time to time. Even as we talk, your popularity grows. You're creating an aura around your body. I just have to love it."

We walked along the middle of a curving, steeply sloping street.There was no one around.Here the houses loom old and eerie, with narrow stone steps leading down, some of which have been destroyed. "Do you believe that love is stronger than death?" "Not in a million years." "Well," he said, "there is nothing stronger than death. Do you believe that the only people who fear death are those who fear life?" "That's madness, utter stupidity." "Yes. We all fear death to some extent. Those who claim not to fear death are lying to themselves. Shallow people."

"People who put their nickname on their car license." "Excellent, Jack. Do you believe that life is somehow incomplete without death?" "How can it be incomplete? Death is what makes it incomplete." "Doesn't our knowledge of death make life more precious?" "What's the good of being precious based on fear and anxiety? It's an anxious and trembling thing." "Really. The most precious things are those that make us feel safe. Wives, children. Does the ghost of death make children more precious?" "Won't."

"No. There's no reason to believe that life is any more precious because it's fleeting. There's a saying here: Before a man can begin to fully enjoy life, he must be told that he's going to die sooner or later. True or false?" "Wrong. Once your death is certain, it becomes impossible to live a satisfying life." "Would you prefer to know the exact date and time of your death?" "Absolutely not. It's too bad to be afraid of the unknown. We can face the unknown as if it doesn't exist. And the exact date of death would drive many people to suicide if they were to play around with the system."

We walked across an old road bridge.It is so full of embarrassing and stale things that it can no longer be seen clearly.We walked along the path and came to the edge of the middle school field.Women take young children to play in the long jump sandpit. "How do I handle this?" I said. "You can put your faith in technology. It got you here and it can get you out. That's the whole point of technology. On the one hand it creates the desire for immortality, on the other hand it portends the extinction of the universe. Technology is a bad desire cast out of nature." "yes?" "It's a terrible secret we invented to cover our decaying bodies. But it's life, isn't it? It prolongs life, it replaces those old organs with new ones. New devices, new technologies every day. Lasers, microwave radiation, ultrasound. Devote yourself to it, Jack. Believe in it. They'll stuff you in a shiny tube and irradiate your body with the fundamental matter of the universe. Light, energy, dreams. The kindness of God. " "I guess I don't want to see any doctors for a while, Murray, thanks." "That way, you can always solve the problem of death by focusing your thoughts on the life in the afterlife." "How do I do it?" "It's obvious. Study books on reincarnation, reincarnation, hyperspace, the resurrection of the dead, etc. These beliefs have evolved into some beautiful systems. Study them." "Do you believe in any of these things?" "Millions of people have believed it for thousands of years. Join them, join them. The belief in a second birth, a second life, is actually universal. There must be something to it." "But these beautiful systems are all so different." "Pick one you like." "But you make it sound like a dream come true, which is the worst kind of self-deception." He seemed to shrug again. "Consider the great poetry, music, dance, and ceremony that have sprung from our quest for rebirth after death. Perhaps these things are sufficient to justify our hopes and dreams, though I would not That's what the dying say." He nudged me a bit.We walked to the business district of the town.Murray stopped, raised a foot behind him, and reached behind him to knock the ashes out of his pipe.Then he deftly put the thing into the pocket of his corduroy jacket, pipe pipe first. "Seriously, you can find a great deal of long-term comfort in the idea of ​​being reborn after death." "But must I believe? Must I feel in my heart that after this one life, there is really something flickering in the darkness, far away?" "What do you think about rebirth after death -- is it a whole bunch of facts yet to be uncovered? You think the U.S. Air Force is secretly collecting data on rebirth after death, and because we're not mature enough to accept the findings, and to Is it a secret? Will these discoveries cause panic? No. I'll tell you what life after death is. It's a sweet and deeply moving concept. You can believe it or not. In the meantime, you must What you do is, survive the assassination. That's the immediate tonic. You feel special, you add charisma." "You said earlier that death increases my charisma as a leader. Besides, who is going to kill me?" He shrugged again. "The train derailed, a hundred people died, and you survived. Yours hit a power line minutes after takeoff, crashed on a golf course, and you were thrown cleanly. It didn't have to be an assassination. The point is, you stood Next to a pile of smoking wreckage, while everyone else was lying there unable to move or writhing in pain. That would at least negate the effect of any amount of nebula-like mass." We wandered the streets for a while, looking at the displays in the shop windows, and then entered a shoe store.Murray looked at shoes from brands like Wizin, Wallaby, and Hashpappi.We walked outside again in the sun.The child in the stroller looked at us, as if seeing us as something strange. "Has the German you learned come in handy?" "I dare not say it has come in handy." "Is it always useless?" "I can't tell. I don't know. Who knows such things?" "What have you been trying to do all these years?" "Put yourself in a state of obsession, I suppose." "Exactly. No need to be ashamed, Jack. It's just your fear that made you do it." "Just my fear? Just my death?" "We shouldn't be surprised that you didn't succeed. The Germans proved how strong they are? They lost that war in the end." "That's what Denise said." "You discuss this with the children?" "Generally." "Helpless and frightened people are drawn to frightening epic figures, enchanted figures, mythical figures who flicker eeriely." "I think you're talking about Hitler." "Some people are greater than life. Hitler is greater than death. You think, he will help you. I totally understand." "Really? Because I wish I knew." "It's absolutely obvious. You want help and shelter. Overwhelming fear that doesn't make room for your own death. 'Overwhelm me,' you say, 'dispel my fear.' You're on a level on another level, you want to use him to increase your own importance and power. I detect a confusion of approach, and I'm not criticizing. That It was a daring thing you did, a daring dash—to use him. Even now that I understand the sheer stupidity of that approach—though not as stupid as wearing an amulet or touching a piece of wood to ward off evil—I still admire you for trying. If there is an ominous sign one morning, 600 million Indians will not go to work and stay at home. So I do not single you out as an exception." "Broad and horribly deep." "Of course," he said. "Endless." "I see." "The whole thing is gigantic and indescribable." "Absolutely." "Boundless darkness." "Indeed, indeed." "The whole thing is terribly big without end." "I see exactly what you mean." Half-smiling, he slapped the fender of a car parked diagonally. "Why did you fail, Jack?" "Confusion in method." "Correct. There are countless ways to deal with death. You're trying to use both. You're standing up to resist and trying to hide. What do we call that attempt?" "madness." I followed him into the supermarket.Variety of bright colors and loud sounds.We walked past a bunting proclaiming a raffle for some incurable disease.The words above seem to indicate that lottery winners will suffer from this disease.Murray compared the colored flags to Tibetan prayer flags. "Why does my fear persist for so long and persist like this?" "It's obvious. You don't know how to suppress yourself. We all know that death is inevitable. What do we do with this destructive realization? We suppress, we disguise, we cover up, we reject. It’s a little bit better than others, that’s all.” "How can I improve?" "You can't improve. Someone just doesn't have the unconscious means to carry out the necessary camouflage operations." "If the means are unconscious, how do we know that repression exists, and that what we repress is cleverly disguised?" "Having said that, he talks about characters who appear and disappear." He picked up a box of No. 2 plastic wrap, read its instructions, and examined its colors.He sniffed the dehydrating soap.Information data today is powerful. "Do you think I'm healthier because I don't know how to repress myself? Is it possible that constant fear is a natural human condition? By living with fear, am I actually doing something heroic, silently inside?" "Do you feel heroic?" "No." "Then maybe you're not." "But isn't self-repression unnatural?" "Fear is unnatural. Lightning and thunder are unnatural. Suffering, death, reality, these are all unnatural. We cannot bear these things as they are. We know too much. So we ourselves Repression, compromise and camouflage. This is how we survive in the universe. This is the natural language of human beings." I watched him carefully. "I work out. I take care of my body." "No, you didn't," he said. He helped an old man read the expiration date on a loaf of raisin bread.Children passed us in silver carts. "Tegrin, Denorex, Selsun Blue." Murray wrote something in his little notebook.I watched him deftly step over a dozen eggs oozing yolks from broken boxes. "Why do I feel so good with Wilder? Not like with other kids," I said. "You realize his whole self, his freedom from limitations." "In what way did he get out of the restraints?" "He doesn't know he's going to die sooner or later. He doesn't know death at all. You cherish this stupid blessing of his, this immunity from harm. You want to get close to him, to touch him, to look at him, to suck him in. How lucky he is! An unaware cloud, an all-knowing, all-powerful little man. A child is everything, a man is nothing. Think about it. All one's life is this pair Resolution of contradictions. No wonder we are confused, hesitant, and broken." "Are you going too far?" "I'm from New York." "We create beautiful and timeless things and build vast civilizations." "Nice evasion," he said, "great evasion." The optoelectronic gate opens automatically.We went outside, past the dry cleaners, the hairdresser, the optician.Murray lit his pipe again and drew hard on the mouthpiece. "We talked about the various ways of dealing with death," he said. "We talked about how you could try two of these, one counteracting the other. We talked about technology, about train derailments, about rebirth after death. belief. There are other ways, and I want to talk about one such practice." We cross the street. "I think, Jack, there are two kinds of people in the world: the killers and the dead. Most of us are the dead. We don't have that temperament, that rage or anything that it takes to be a killer. We Let death come. We lay ourselves down and die. But think about what it's like to be a murderer. Think about how exhilarating theoretically it is to kill a person in a confrontation People. If he's dead, you can't kill him. To kill him, you get life points. The more people you kill, the more points you get. That explains so many massacres, wars, and executions The origin of the criminal." "Are you saying that the whole history of man has been an attempt to undo his own death by killing others?" "It's obvious." "And you call it exhilarating." "I'm laying out the theory. In theory, violence is a form of rebirth. The dead submit passively and die. The murderers live on. What an incredible balance. When a gang of murderous bandits piles up corpses, they harvest power .The power builds up like a gift from God." "What does this have to do with me?" "That's the theory. We're a pair of academics on the go. But imagine the gut punch as you watch your opponent lie in the dust and bleed." "You think it adds points to a person's life score, like having a deposit in the bank." "The void is staring into your face. Total and eternal oblivion. You will cease to exist. Survive, Jack. The dead accept this and die. Theoretically, the murderer tries to repel himself by killing others death. He wins time, he wins life. Watch others writhe in pain, watch blood drip drop by drop into the dirt." I looked at him in astonishment.He smoked his pipe complacently, making hollow noises. "It's a way of controlling death, a way of gaining ultimate advantage. Change it up, be the killer. Let someone else be the dead. Put him in your place, in theory it's called swapping roles. If he's dead, you're not dead. He's dead, you're alive. Look at the marvelous simplicity!" "You say that's what people have been doing for centuries." "They're still doing it. They're doing it in small groups, they're doing it in small groups, big groups and crowds. Killing people to live." "Sounds scary." He seemed to shrug his shoulders. "Slaughter is never random. The more people you kill, the more power you gain over your own death. There is a mysterious precision at work in the most savage and indiscriminate killings. Talk about this It's not a public relations issue of murder. We're two academics in an academic environment, and it's our job to study currents of thought and examine the meaning of human behavior. But think about it, winning a life-and-death struggle , how inspiring it is to watch that bastard bleed." "You're saying, plotting to kill. But every plot is actually murder, and plotting is death, whether we know it or not." "Conspiracies are planned to survive." I watched him, studied his face, his hands. "We begin our lives in chaos, in blah-blah. When we come into this world with such a bang, we try to devise a form, a plan. There is dignity in that. Your whole life is a conspiracy, A plot, a diagram. It is a failed plot, but that is not the point. A plot is a life-affirming, a search for form and control. Even after death, especially after death, the search continues. A funeral is a Attempts to complete this planning with ritual. Imagine a state funeral, Jack. How precise, minute, orderly, and well-planned it appears. The people of the country hold their breath. A large and powerful government, dragged into a Rituals that expose the last traces of chaos. If all goes well, if they succeed in this, then some perfect law of nature is followed. The people of the country are relieved from anxiety, the lives of the dead are saved by God, and life itself is strengthened and Reaffirm." "Are you sure?" I said. "Conspiracy, aim, shape time and space. This is how we advance the art of human consciousness." We took a big arc as we returned to campus.The streets were cast in thick and silent shadows, and bags of rubbish were left outside waiting to be collected.We walked across the overpass watching the sunset, pausing for a moment to watch the cars fly by.Sunlight bounced off car windows and plated objects. "Are you a murderer or a dead man, Jack?" "You know the answer. I've been a dead man all my life." "What can you do about it?" "What can a dead man do about it? Isn't it hidden in the structure of his body that he cannot cross?" "Let's consider this. Let's examine the nature of the beast, for example. The male beast. In the male psyche, is there not a reserve, an accumulation, a store-up of potential violence?" "I suppose so in theory." "We're talking about theories, that's what we're talking about. Two friends on a tree-lined street, what else is there but theory? If it turns out, isn't there a big mine deep underground , some crude oil field that might be developed? A huge, dark lake of male rage." "That's what Babette said. Murderous rage. You talk like her." "Amazing lady. Is she right or wrong?" "Theoretically? She might be right." "Isn't there a place in the mud that you'd better not know about? The ruins of some prehistoric time when dinosaurs roamed the earth and people fought with stone tools? When killing was about staying alive?" "Babette talks about male biology. Is it biology or geology?" "Does it matter, Jack? We only want to know if it's there, buried deep in the most cautious and humble souls." "I think so. It might be there. That might be." "Is it there, or is it not there?" "There it is, Murray. So what?" "I just want you to say it, that's all. I just want to bring out the truth that you already know, that you've got some basic level of truth." "Are you saying that the dead can become murderers?" "I'm just a guest lecturer. I talk theory, I go for walks, I admire trees and houses. I have my students, my rented room, my TV. I catch a word here, an image there. I admire the lawn and the veranda. What a wonderful thing the veranda is! How come I haven’t had a veranda to sit on in my life so far? I think, I meditate, I often take notes. I come here to think, to observe. Let me warn you, Jack. I won't stop." We walked across the street where I lived, up the hill to the campus. "Who is your doctor?" "Chakravarty," I said. "Is he skilled in medicine?" "How would I know?" "I dislocated my shoulder, an old injury from previous sex." "I was terrified of seeing him. I kept a typed report of my death in the bottom drawer of my dresser." "I understand how you feel. But the tougher part is yet to come. You've said goodbye to everyone but yourself. How does one say goodbye to oneself? It's an interesting existential dilemma .” "Definitely." We walked past the administration building. "I hate to say it, Jack, but one thing must be said." "what?" "Better you than me." I nodded solemnly. "Why does this sentence have to be said?" "Because friends have to be honest, and it's kind of cruel. If I don't tell you what I'm thinking, especially at a time like this, I'd feel horrible." "I appreciate that, Murray. Really." "Besides, it's just a part of the universal experience of death. Whether you think about it consciously or not, you understand at some level that people walk around saying to themselves 'It's better for him than me'. It's all too natural You can't blame them or curse them." "Everyone except my wife. She wants to die first." "Don't be so sure," he said. We shook hands in front of the library and said goodbye.I thank him for his honesty. "It all comes down to that," he said. "A man spends his whole life saying goodbye to others. How does he say goodbye to himself?" I tossed out picture frame strings, metal bookends, cork coasters, plastic key charms, dusty mercury and petroleum jelly bottles, stiff paint brushes, congealed shoe brushes, dried correction fluid.I tossed out candle stubs, laminated placemats, anti-scald pot holders.I search for padded coat hangers, memo pads with magnetic clips.I was in a state of vindictiveness and almost brutality.I have a personal grudge against these things.Somehow they put me in this predicament; they wore me down and made escape impossible.The two girls followed me around, maintaining respectful silence.I threw away my battered khaki water jug ​​and my ridiculous pair of hip-high boots.I threw away diplomas, certificates, awards and certificates.I was rummaging through the bathroom when the girls came to stop me, throwing away used bars of soap, wet washcloths, shampoo bottles with barcodes and missing caps.Please Note: Your new Automated Card will arrive in the mail within a few days.If it's a red card with a silver stripe, then your PIN will be the same as it currently is.If it's a green card with a gray stripe, you have to take the card to a bank branch to set a new PIN.It's common to use birthdays as passwords.WARNING: Do not write down the password.Don't carry passwords with you.Remember: unless you enter your password correctly, you will not be able to deposit or withdraw money from your account.Remember your own password.Do not disclose your password to anyone.Only your password will give you access to the system.

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