[begin transmission]

Finally, after ~2.75 years, you've managed to catch COVID.

[end transmission]

[begin transmission]

This all so very tiresome, and it's wearing on my patience.

My argument is a simple one:

01.) Love of man is required for romantic love.
02.) You do not possess love of man.
03.) Therefore what you feel for me is not romantic love.

Premise 01, as I have already discussed w/ you is an idea attributable to Aristotle, and an idea that I agree w/ and makes sense to me. That being said, you're free to disagree w/ it, but keep in mind that it is my judgment of your feelings towards me in question here, and that judgment is informed by this premise. If you'd like to change my mind about it, you'd effectively have to come up w/ your own notion of romantic love and convince me to adopt it while abandoning this one. So far, you haven't done that.

Premise 02 is the greatest point of contention, but I have already made a lengthy case for it. In summary, it is your own self-admitted duplicitousness in your own friendships w/ the others, your own self-admitted inclination to act cold towards others, your own self-admitted superficial, 'clinical kindness', the fact that you see no value in harboring any IRL friendships, the fact that you see no value in marriage if it isn't w/ me, the fact that you see no value in having children yourself someday are strong indicators that you lack the love of man.

If someone were to take every pain to avoid picking up a ball or a bat, to avoid watching a game on television or read stats of players online, you'd be hard-pressed to say that person was a fan of baseball. It doesn't matter if they profess the contrary; it really is as simple as that.

This isn't necessarily the tiresome part. I think that notions of love, particularly that of romantic love, can be complex, difficult, and thoroughly confusing. Accordingly, I don't expect either one of us to come up w/ conclusive resolutions on the matter. It can very well be something we disagree on and continue to work out. No, the tiresome part is YOUR attitude in approaching this problem. For as sterilely and formally as I have presented the matter up until this point, you know damn well that I had been much more careful, patient, and compassionate the first time around when I broached the subject.

I took great care to not invalidate your feelings. I'm not debasing your feelings when I say this, and I know you feel a lot of something for me, but I think it's something like love. Not exactly it. I made sure that I wasn't coming from a place of superiority. Well...no. My love is just as faulty as yours. I even specifically mentioned my intention and partially pleaded out of emotion, because up until that point it had been a wonderful night. No...▒▒▒▒▒▒▒, don't be mad. I didn't mean to make you mad! This, all occurring while you took the most uncharitable interpretations of my words, trying to make it seem as if I wanted you to feel romantic love for everyone, comparing me to hippies and Alice2, and catastrophizing w/ the conclusion that you are absolutely incapable of love.

It is this behavior that makes me irritated. To top it all off, you then had the gall to try and dismiss me outright, citing past instances where I, in good faith, admitted that I was wrong. As if a handful of instances of being wrong doomed me to a lifetime of forever being wrong on everything henceforth. It was such a cheap and childish ploy that I couldn't believe you were trying to make a case off of it. That is not acceptable. If you continue to invalidate my arguments right out of hand like that, if you abuse my good will and honesty in that manner, then we're through.

It is that, and the behavior that came to follow that is probably the most egregious: your insistence that somehow my bringing this doubt of your love to your attention was a form of mistreatment. I'm sorry, but no; I will not allow you to gaslight me on this. I acknowledge that what I said was uncomfortable, I'm not blind to that fact, but it doesn't mean that I was deliberately trying to harm you or put you down. I told you what I honestly thought; just b/c I hadn't said anything about it before does not mean I hadn't been thinking about it. I'd hope that my care and consideration came through in my words, but perhaps they hadn't. In either case, you should re-read our initial conversation--you now being free of anger and sleep-deprivation--and compare its tone to this post. The contrast should be apparent.

If you insist that I was mistreating you...wearily, I ask that you present your case. At my request of this the other night, you refused. I think you know that you don't have much of a case, and I think that this is all a sorry excuse to try and shift focus onto me and away from you. You commented that I have many issues to work out, that I need help. I agree. I do have my flaws, and perhaps I could use some help. However, we're not talking about me here. This is about you. If you'd like, we can work on me after, but right now we're dealing w/ you.

Unless you truly meant what you said and that you've given up on trying to love. If that is the case, then I will be on my merry way and you can be the loner that you've always romanticized yourself to be. You don't need me there, lying to you, pretending as if your behavior is alright and that everything will be okay. For one, that is not in alignment w/ the good, and two, I haven't the heart to see how that kind of life plays out.

[end transmission]

But if one friend remained the same while the other became better and far outstripped him in virtue, should the latter treat the former as a friend? Surely he cannot. When the interval is great this becomes

most plain, e.g. in the case of childish friendships; if one friend remained a child in intellect while the other became a fully developed man, how could they be friends when they neither approved of the same

things nor delighted in and were pained by the same things? For not even with regard to each other will their tastes agree, and without this (as we saw) they cannot be friends; for they cannot live together...

Should he, then, behave no otherwise towards him than he would if he had never been his friend? Surely he should keep a remembrance of their former intimacy, and as we think we ought to oblige friends rather than strangers, so to those who have been our friends we ought to make some allowance for our former friendship, when the breach has not been due to excess of wickedness. 

Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics, Book IX, Ch. 3. 350 BCE. 

It is also disputed whether the happy man will need friends or not. It is said that those who are supremely happy and self-sufficient have no need of friends; for they have the things that are good, and therefore being self-sufficient they need nothing further, while a friend, being another self, furnishes what a man cannot provide by his own effort; whence the saying 'when fortune is kind, what need of friends?' But it seems strange, when one assigns all good things to the happy man, not to assign friends, who are thought the greatest of external goods. And if it is more characteristic of a friend to do well by another than to be well done by, and to confer benefits is characteristic of the good man and of virtue, and it is nobler to do well by friends than by strangers, the good man will need people to do well by. This is why the question is asked whether we need friends more in prosperity or in adversity, on the assumption that not only does a man in adversity need people to confer benefits on him, but also those who are prospering need people to do well by. Surely it is strange, too, to make the supremely happy man a solitary; for no one would choose the whole world on condition of being alone, since man is a political creature and one whose nature is to live with others.

Therefore even the happy man lives with others; for he has the things that are by nature good. And plainly it is better to spend his days with friends and good men than with strangers or any chance persons. Therefore the happy man needs friends. 

Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics, Book IX, Ch. 9. 350 BCE. 

 

[begin transmission]

It's been five years since I've played NieR: Automata.
In those long five years much has happened.

I've lost a romantic partner.
I've regained my then-failing eyesight.
I've graduated from graduate school.
I've lost a close friend and mentor.
I've helped establish and maintained an online community.
I've made several new friends and helped many people.
I've lost dear friends and have harmed many people.
I've quit my job and ventured out to start a new one.
I've found a new love.
I've started my formal education again.
I've grown to accept aspects of myself.
I've purchased another home.
I've come to abhor aspects of myself.
I've lost touch w/ my online community.

While all of those of things happened, while all of those years passed, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of that game. Truly, it holds a special and reverent place in my heart, for it's themes continue and will continue to grip me for the foreseeable future. I will never stop thinking about those red-haired twins and the concept of original sin. I will never stop thinking about an amusement park filled w/ machine lifeforms and Nietzsche's last man. I will never stop thinking about the eternal Hegelian nature that underlines the android-machine conflict. I will never stop thinking about the clash of telos versus authenticity that exists within 2B or the psychoanalytic nightmare that is 9S. These themes and ideas will always be relevant to me for all of time.

And, at this very moment, another important theme comes to mind. One that eluded me for so long until now. Namely, the theme of identity and self. "Okay, but Automata, like any work that deals w/ existentialism, is littered w/ themes of identity and self. What one do you mean in specific?". The idea that I'm referring to is the one that concerns memory and the formation of the self. Admittedly it's a common theme within sci-fi that has been done to death w/ various degrees of profundity, but it is in NieR: Automata that I found it to be somewhat lacking, even though I frustratingly felt that there was something more to it. It is only until now, w/ the aid of some timely information coming from my leisure reading, that a coherent synthesis of a new understanding has been formed on the matter.

As you may recall, the idea first presents itself not terribly far into the game. At the climax of the prologue 2B and 9S on the eve of defeat, activate a black box reaction, effectively destroying themselves and their Goliath-class adversaries in the process. There is so much emotional and sentimental build-up leading up to this moment that it seems out-of-place. I mean, death should be inconsequential to these androids, since their consciousness could readily be transferred to new bodies. Besides, didn't these two just meet moments before? Why do they care so much that the other dies? All of the dramatics only makes sense in the retrospect, after one has completed Route C/D and perhaps also after I outline my case. Anyway, soon thereafter 2B awakens in the Bunker and rendezvous w/ 9S, who has no recollection of the events that transpired in the prologue since there was not enough bandwidth for him to backup both his and 2B's memory to the Bunker. The cutscene that punctuates 2B and 9S's reunion admits 9S issuing a YoRHa salute w/ its accompanying maxim "Glory to Mankind.", w/ 2B responding in kind; the camera then cutting to her clenching fist as 9S wanders off blissfully unaware. What is the significance of this moment? Several interpretations exist, but one of them suggests that 2B is upset and angered by the fact that 9S does not remember the events of the mission that had happened mere hours prior. She is upset that 9S has lost his memories.

A second instance in which this theme manifests itself so readily and apparently is at the conclusion of Routes A and B. After Eve is slain, it is revealed that 9S became corrupted when he hacked into him during the battle; that's no good, as corrupted androids will begin to degrade until they're rendered inoperable or attack allies until they are completely and utterly destroyed. Resigning to his fate, 9S attempts to comfort a despairing 2B w/ a potential solution: "It's okay. I can always reload my backup data from the Bunker.", to which she replies "But you'll lose you. The you that exists at this very moment.". That's a bit cryptic, since the implications (memories as identity) are clear, but it isn't really elaborated on. Memories as identity...what does this even mean? Is this sentiment thrown into the dialogue to pay lip-service to that overdone sci-fi trope as an afterthought? Or is there more to the idea?

To get to the bottom of it all, we must (re)familiarize w/ the concept of Leibniz's Law. This law states, in short, that two things are identical if they share the same properties. So, for instance, if a person looks like your mother, speaks in the same manner as your mother, smells of the same perfume as your mother, occupies the same household as your mother, possesses the same employment as your mother, has you and your sibling as children just as your mother, that person is your mother. It seems like quite a trite little observation, doesn't it? It's so obvious that it hardly warrants being a distinct construct of philosophical thought. Well, let's make things more interesting then: let us apply Leibniz's Law to that of personal identity. If a person has your personal taste in music, has the same hair color, goes to the same school as you, occupies all the exact points of space as you, is comprised of all the same cells as you etc., then that person is you. However notice that all of these items are subject to change: your taste in music can change. Your hair color can change. The school you attend can change. You don't occupy all the exact points of space you did a moment ago. Every cell in your body is constantly dying and being replaced. So then, how can we say that you are really you? As you can see, if we apply Leibniz's Law to the realm of ontology, we get a conception of strict identity as well as something very reminiscent to a Ship of Theseus-type of situation arising. How is it that we can establish personal identity when the properties, both material and abstract, that ostensibly define us are ever-changing?

Enter psychological continuity. While Leibniz's Law establishes a strict criteria for identity, psychological continuity is far less exact, but is flexible enough to account for discontinuities. We can say that a person is themselves b/c they, for the most part, have the same personality, have the same style of thinking, have the same affinities, have the same memories etc. However, psychological continuity must be taken in conjunction w/ the aforementioned strict identity, since neither one is adequate in accounting for the self on its own. We only have access to psychological continuity in defining ourselves (remember, moment-by-moment it is not possible to strictly define you as your spatial/temporal position or even biology is constantly changing), but to other agents in the world you must be held accountable for yourself outside of your own head. This is where action and narrative take route.

While psychological continuity admits a sense of yourself to only yourself, it does no good in establishing towards others that you are your self, since they do not have access to that inner psychological phenomenon. Strict identity fails in conveying to others that you are your self since you cannot ever fulfill it's own strict criteria (the aforementioned spatial/temporal/biological problem). Thus, they only thing that is accessible to the outside world and other agents that inhabit it are your actions. These actions do not occur in isolation, but are part of a history that is comprised of several other actions. Now, it is tempting to say that one is able to abstract out and isolate any one action, for it is a single 'chainlink' in that history, but this is not true. An action undertaken by you only makes sense and only ever exists in the context of its history; conversely, that history only makes sense and only ever exists b/c of the actions that comprise it. You cannot have one w/o the other; there is a reciprocal kind of relationship where one defines the other.

"...where are you going w/ this 2B? I thought we were talking about Automata.". I am getting there, worry not, dear reader. There is one more point to address. Just as there exists a reciprocal relationship between action and history, there exists a similar reciprocal relationship between a person and their history. A person is not merely a single individual that can be abstracted from a history; they are the subject of a particular history that is unique to them. A person removed from the context of their history is a concept that is unintelligible, for there is always a person who have uniquely created a history for their own reasons. Similarly, a history cannot exist w/o some person creating it. This is why, several months ago, I grew frustrated in conversation with a particular someone when they asserted that they did not view themselves as the protagonist of their own life. Such an assertion is entirely nonsensical when considering the framework I have currently laid out. These three intimately related things--action, history, and personhood--form a unity: a narrative. This accounts for my original thesis mentioned in Post #20220507, that Being is necessarily dramatic in nature. Our lives follow a story-like structure, both phenomenologically and psychologically. 

If this framework is acceptable thus far, then it shouldn't be too absurd of a proposition to posit that any individual's narrative, complete w/ their own personhood, actions, and histories, are interlocked w/ those of others. Everyday, our persons encounter other persons and our histories intersect at individual actions, reciprocally adding yet another chainlink that carries w/ it some amount of significance. The people who you encounter and interact w/ then become characters within your life's narrative. Much as how actions cannot be abstracted from a history into isolation without losing intelligibility, the characters encountered only make sense when considering the context of your life; they are not merely a collection of persons encountered, but carry some significance. This being the case, then it becomes clear how a person's narrative, mediated via interpersonal interactions, can be shaped, formed, or even augmented by others. Going back to Automata, the latter is exemplified in the relationship between 2B and 9S. Yes, yes, in the case of 9S 2B lends meaning to his life, since she is the 'why' that gives him strength to bear any 'how'. It's all very romantic and something I find myself longing for on a disturbingly regular basis...though, that is a digression. That tangent aside, there is a more chilling aspect to the pair's relationship if we examine it from 2B's side.

In the later chapters of the game, it is revealed that 2B's true designation is 2E: YoRHa No. 2 Type E. She is an Execution-type, w/ the sole purpose of her creation being to execute 9S whenever he would come too close to the truth behind Project YoRHa. All overtly-romantic connotation aside, 9S's life downright GIVES meaning to 2B's. If 9S is out of the picture, what are the implications for 2B's life? It becomes meaningless. This is the basis for my assertion that 2B's circumstances are the exemplification of existential horror: fulfillment of her purpose (her telos) sees to it that that very purpose is destroyed. For all of the despair that the game means to inspire through the story of A2 and the events of the Pearl Harbor Descent (that the entire operation and subsequent sacrifice of her entire squadron was merely an attempt to collect combat data) and 9S's discovery that the entire machine-android conflict was commandeered to provide evolutionary pressure for N2, none is as awful as that inspired by 2B. It is terrifying to encounter malevolence out in the world, an external force that seeks to cause your ruin, but that is tacitly acknowledged and accepted to be part of the expected adversity that comes w/ life; it is downright horrific when it is unavoidable feature of your unique existence that you lead yourself to your own ruin--even moreso that you were expressly created JUST to end in ruin.

Now that we have established the intimacy and tethered nature of 2B and 9S's relationship, it becomes slightly clearer why 2B becomes upset at the 9S's loss of memories, or why she is seemingly so concerned at 9S's suggestion to reload his previously saved memories. To have 9S lose his memories is to lose 9S himself; there is no distinction between memories and identity, for we have established earlier that a life is a narrative that comprises integrally of personhood, actions, and history. That history, in turn, cannot be abstracted into singular actions w/o losing intelligibility. In other words, memories are not simply a recollection of events that have 'happened' to you. They are more than that, and they inform others of who you are as a person b/c of this loaded nature. If 9S were to lose his memory of, say, that time he was wandering around the shopping mall ruins and suggested buying 2B a t-shirt when the war was over, he doesn't just lose the recollection of that singular occurrence happening. He loses a part of his identity that informs others that he as a person cares enough about 2B to buy her a gift. Going further back conceptually, he loses a part of his identity that informs others that he is capable of caring, period. He loses a part of his identity that informs others that he considers other lives beyond his own as valuable. He loses a part of his identity that informs others that he thinks some things are worth valuing. This conceptual recursion can continue further, but I think you understand the point. The loss of even a single memory has further reaching consequences

Sure, you could retort that it is only one memory, that there are others that can indicate 9S is someone that cares enough about 2B to buy her a gift, is capable of caring, considers other lives valuable, etc. Plus at the very least 9S knows who he is b/c of that psychological continuity we defined earlier. But you must bear in mind that the backup data 9S was referring to was created a while back, so the amount of memories lost isn't exactly trivial. As for psychological continuity being adequate enough for at least providing the subject aspect of identity, that is no longer valid. In order to have psychological continuity, you have to be able to keep track of your psychological qualities such as personality, affinities, aversions, etc. across all of time. If 9S loses his memories, that introduces discontinuities into his subjective track of time, rendering that entire aspect of identity forfeit.

Either way you slice it, 9S losing his memories means losing 9S as a person. Perhaps what makes the situation even more desperate is the added fact that 2B's own narrative is contingent on 9S's narrative. On the modernist perspective, 2B loses meaning in life through loss of her authenticity--her self-prescribed desire to be romantically involved w/ 9S. On the other hand, on the heroic perspective, 2B loses meaning in life through loss of her telos--the purpose of her creation which is to kill 9S. Honestly...could you conceive of a more pitiable dilemma?

It's been five years since I've played NieR: Automata. In those long five years much has happened. So much of it has been difficult and awful, and much of it has been joyous and pleasant. All the same, these actions have become part of my history, and will go on to inform a narrative that will in turn form my identity both towards myself and others. In all honesty I wouldn't trade it for anything else if it were even possible. Make no mistake, that isn't to say I don't have any regrets or guilt. I do have my regrets--quite a few in fact--but there's little point in agonizing over them for long. Any agonizing that does occur, however, I consider well-deserved, earned, and fully accepted. Regret and guilt are indications of a life well-lived, where there was something substantial and important at stake, where a person was presented an opportunity to be courageous and do what they thought was right. Ultimately that person failed, by their very own determination, but I don't think anyone expected to make it out of this life always comfortable and agnostic of hardship. Not anyone who isn't absolutely idealistic or doing anything worthwhile, anyway. No, this narrative is uniquely mine; it ought to be a Sophoclean tragedy.

[end transmission]

 

Elapsed time: 00:02:13

Re-activation complete. A check of my body reveals various failures. Communication functions have been destroyed. I cannot contact my team or the bunker. I leave a draft of this message here as a log.

Elapsed time: 00:10:13

I verify the plan once more. Using my supposed destruction in this sortie as a guise, I sever all communication. I then pass beneath the abandoned factory and escape. Further analysis reveals that I took anti-air fire while in the flight unit, resulting in damage to my body. No matter—it can be repaired.

Elapsed time: 00:15:21

I'm cold. My sensory systems seem to be failing.

Elapsed time: 00:33:12

Noise has started to cloud my vision. Virus warnings appear frequently. It is unclear whether I am infected or if the system is in error.

Elapsed time: 00:33:21

Repairs are proceeding poorly, perhaps because I am flustered. Pursuers will come if I don't move soon. Was I wrong to attempt escape?

Elapsed time: 00:38:00

This can't continue. I can't stay here. I have to run... YoRHa squadron was wrong... I have to find somewhere safer... I'm scared. I'm so scared.

Elapsed time: 00:45:00

Painful. It hurts. Help. Why stop. Who am I? Wrong wrong wrong. I need to run...

It's just that...she was always such a hard ass, you know? To think she wanted to run away just... Ha ha!
And what a miserable way to die.
Serves her right for the way she used to heap abuse on me...
She always looked down on me because I wasn't a combat model, and now...

[begin transmission]

It's always a curious thing to have a track--long since forgotten--not just make itself known, but assert itself in your ~2,300 item everyday playlist. The type of track that might elicit an unreasonably strong emotional response--a deep, enduring longing for past memories, a haughty, boisterous shift into unassailable confidence, or a slow decay into the darkest, thickest of despairs through which absolutely no light can shine through. All accompanied by the wonderfully intense bodily symptoms of frisson: goose bumps, chills, endogenous opioid release. Experiences like these are THE reason why I fully subscribe to the idea that music is the closest earthly approximate to the transcendent. It is in these experiences that our attention is yanked away from everyday banalities and forced to contend w/ whatever thoughts and emotions the melody and rhythm enjoin. There couldn't be a stronger case against the thesis that you are your own master. The interplay between consciousness and that Platonic realm of Forms is so mysteriously opaque that to suggest you are the sole proprietor of your own ideas and thoughts becomes a patently naive proposition if contemplated seriously for more than a minute.

In similarly mysterious fashion, the track cited above opens w/ a delicate arpeggiated piano chord that continues w/ sparse, ethereal, high-register notes, all against a backdrop of low-howling ambient wind and just-beyond-comprehension whispers of a forbidden nature. Low-register violin notes cut through the abstractions, giving the listener something to ground themselves on, something that feels very hometown-ish and familiar, even if only vaguely. Signaling the conclusion of the introduction, that very same violin engages in a short, ascending melodic run that is perfectly punctuated by a heavy piano chord; that final diminished chord informs you that this track is going to be fairly somber in tone, and that one had better be prepared to deal w/ weighty subject matter.

(As an aside, there's this neat little piano part where the chords solidly establish the dreamy 6/8 time signature in an ascending pattern. But again, that last diminished chord makes it feel unresolved--like climbing to the top only to falter at the final step)

And is it ever weighty subject matter...the lyrics in question weigh heavily on me to this very day b/c of their supremely ontological nature. They occur early in the track, in the first verse:

どうして罪があるのだろう
Why is there sin?

どうして罰があるのだろう
Why is there punishment?

It isn't a simple meditation on the existence of evil, although it is certainly part of the broader theme. No, this is an outright lamentation of a fundamental fact of existence. Why is there sin? Why is there punishment? I've elaborated on these questions in an earlier post, Post #20190709. However, there is more to this theme than I had ever realized. It is only in the rejoinder, found later in the track in the final chorus, that this becomes apparent:

罪があるのは諦めているから
Sin exists because I'm giving up.

罰があるのは求めすぎるから
Punishment exists because I want things too much.

What does this mean? None of this makes sense. Is this some error in translation? What does sin have to do w/ giving up, or punishment from wanting things? Why invoke the personal when contemplating fundamental aspects of Being? Maybe I've forgotten my phenomenologist roots, but there is no such thing as the exclusion of the personal self from Being. Necessarily, when contemplating existence, you have to invoke a subjectivity; the concept of existence becomes unintelligible w/o it. This profound philosophical fact is implicit when considering morality; if you accept that there is indeed a moral dimension to reality--that it is metaphysical fact--and that there is no such thing as morality w/o personal agency, then at the very least part of reality, specifically the moral, is contingent on subjectivity.

This moral, phenomenological stance is best embodied by the tradition of virtue ethics, and it is within this tradition that these lyrics begin to take on their perfectly sublime and coherent form. In order to address the answers offered in the rejoinder, first let us address the questions of 'what is sin?' and 'what is punishment?'. Immediately this invokes thoughts of a religious nature; a turn-off to some readers, I'm sure. However, we needn't invoke religion to explain sin: the roots of the term 'sin' lie in Greek thought, w/ the concept of hamartia. Hamartia, according to Aristotle, means to commit error, to fall short of one's objective, to miss the mark. If this notion of sin is acceptable, then the follow-up question of 'what is punishment?' is easily answerable. If punishment is thought to be the consequence of sin--and I believe this to be a reasonable, common assertion--then in the virtue ethical framework that very same punishment is the consequence of committing an error.

Okay. So now we have established that sin and punishment are equivalent to error and consequence. The more secular of readers may find themselves to be on simultaneously comfortable/uncertain footing here, as we have safely moved away from invoking appeals to religion, but we're now conceptualizing sin in a novel manner (those well-read in Christian theology will chuckle quietly to themselves, I'm sure). Substituting our conception of sin as error into the rejoinder, we obtain something like 'Error exists because I'm giving up'. This is fairly coherent: if you give up on your objectives, you will fall short of achieving your objectives. Recontextualizing this statement to further reflect the virtue ethical framework we've adopted, we must specify what exactly this 'objective' is. The objective, the telos of human life, according to Aristotle, is to live a good life--a life of flourishing and happiness. In order to live a good life, one must practice virtue, the cardinal four being those of Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude, and Justice. To give up on this objective of living a good life means to effectively fail at exercising virtue.

Keeping this conceptualization in mind, the following lyrics re: punishment makes sense if taken in the reverse. Wanting things too much is an indication of intemperance--the outright failure to practice the virtue of Temperance. To be more exact, this 'I want things too much' is the very embodiment of pleonexia: wanting more than one's share. And so, to embody pleonexia is to fail to exercise virtue, resulting in reaping the appropriate consequence of that error. That consequence is, in turn, conceptually the same as punishment.

Why must something as neutral and mechanistic as consequence be described w/ such colorful and dramatic language as 'punishment'? I've wondered the same question myself from time-to-time, and the more I learn, the more I've come to the conclusion that life is not as neutral or sterile as I may have originally thought. Every thought, action, and judgment that we make includes a tinge of morality to it. Everything we do presupposes some belief about others, ourselves, and reality: a sociology, an ontology, and a metaphysics, respectively. Each of these items carry with them either implicitly or explicitly a set of values that we behave in accordance to, whether we are fully aware of them or not. With regards to thought, action, and judgment we've only gotten used to believing that these things are divorced of moral value b/c that is the default mode of modern thinking that pervades everywhere. That there is such thing as an 'objective' view that we can exercise. It is codified in Hume's Ought/Is distinction, and is taken for granted as the basis for nearly everything we do and everything that we think. Why is consequence so dramatically embellished w/ language such as punishment? It isn't. It is punishment that is so sterilized w/ language such as consequence; the Greek dramatists and storytellers that came before them were not writing for entertainment's sake much as we do now. No, they were offering a description of Being, and the nature of Being is that it is necessarily dramatic. That is a large reason why NieR: Re[in]carnation was so resonant w/ me, b/c it expresses this fact so clearly and explicitly. Why, even neuropsychological research points that we are wired to interpret reality as a narrative.

Perhaps that is why literature, music, and art is so attractive to us as modernists yet it remains so personally elusive to us as to why. They point to truths that we have a vague recollection of, but have long since forgotten the words to bring them into the foreground of coherent, conscious thought and speech. Nevertheless, we feel it so deeply and unmistakably whenever it inspires frisson, render us wistfully nostalgic for the past, or encourage us to puff out our chests and march boldly into an uncertain future.

Everyone messes up at some point, everyone sins, everyone commits error, everyone falls short of virtue, and so everyone feels it when they're not living up to that telos Aristotle likes to talk so much about. Everyone has a personal stake in ethical behavior, and ethical behavior is not an optional proposition if one is concerned w/ living a good life. I've been intimately reminded of that fact fairly recently. It's what lead to this meditation on lyrics in the first place. I've been subject of pleonexia, I've been covetous of more than what is rightfully mine. I've demanded far too much from others in the way of my critical and judgmental nature. I've claimed to know more about others than I rightfully should. In short, my punishment exists because I want things too much.

[end transmission]