La Vie En Rose 2

Technically, anyone is correct to describe the glass (below) as  half empty or  for another to say it is half full.  "Philosophically, water is confined to the bottom of the glass while empty space extends beyond the top and into the surrounding areas of the glass", a pessimist might say. Thus the pessimist will turn the noun, catastrophe, into a verb so as to catastrophize every problem confronted, into a crisis.  Naturally, that becomes the case when empty overwhelms what little there is that is filled.

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”

-- Abraham Lincoln

And so I must add "Part 2" to the  La Vie En Rose I wrote in September, last year. I had a number of European readers who took interest because the song that inspired me was written and originally sung by a French lady, Edith Piaf, in the aftermath of the second world war. 

The question we ask ourselves is this: Is being an optimist or a pessimist a matter of choice? Apparently, there is no quick and easy answer.  Aside from the suggestion that "it is in our genes" to see things in pink colored glasses as the song suggests or through the darker shades of gray, can we choose to do either?  Of course, what makes it even more complex is the role of the environment, upbringing and the socio-economic conditions we find ourselves in.  Although, in the case of the latter, we find that there are just as many pessimists among the rich as there are among the poor.  More significantly, which is hardly being asked, is being an optimist better than being a pessimist, or vice-versa?  We just assume that optimism has an edge over pessimism.

That must have much to do with the idea that the future should be better than the past.  Hence, optimism wins.

But what about the idea that Col. George Custer was way too optimistic over his decision that led to what we now know as his last stand at Little Bighorn. Custer graduated last in his class at West Point, yet, he reached the highest rank achieved among his co-graduates. He led in front of his men in battles which not only earned their respect towards him but the recognition by his superiors as well. His exploits could not have been borne out of a pessimistic attitude. Did optimism lead to the disastrous turn of events that was at Little Bighorn (June, 1876)?

On a much larger scale later in history, September 17, 1944, combined allied forces of seasoned airborne contingents spearheaded by U.S. and British paratroopers, codenamed "Operation Market Garden", were tasked but  failed in their assault against the German defenders. Confidence in the battle tested Allied paratroopers after the Normandy invasion buoyed the kind of optimism that led Field Marshal Montgomery to push for the operation in the Netherlands.  Additionally, there was optimism that the German forces were already on their heels. The assault failed with a costly loss of lives followed by a catastrophic retreat. 

Profuse optimism or unfettered over-confidence cannot be good, obviously . 

In both examples above, there were pessimists in his command who cautioned Custer to wait another day or so for reinforcements before his decision to push forward; and there were in the General Staff of the Allied Forces who took different views about the "Market Garden" assault.  Of course, history too is filled with countless episodes when optimism changed the course of history.

Optimism versus pessimism.

“Both optimists and pessimists contribute to  society. The optimist invents the airplane; the pessimist, the parachute.” 

— George Bernard Shaw

I believe both have a place in our everyday life. I happen to think that they should come in the ratio of 80/20, optimism over pessimism. That is perhaps because like the different times of day - if we condense each life as a day - there is dawn, the morning hours, the hot midday, early and late afternoon, and dusk - then there is a time for rose colored glasses and sunglasses. Until the need for either goes away. Keeping in mind that for much of the day, rose colored glasses are what we need to see through life.

Indeed, pessimism is behind the decision to seek medical advice for a suspicious lump, a discolored mole, pain that never goes away, unexplained but incessant fatigue, etc. It is that voice that warns of a way-too-good-to-be-true investment venture or thoroughly thinking through a job move or a big-ticket item purchase, and so many instances that could be life changing decisions.

However, for much of the time, say 80%, optimism is frequently the key to unlock opportunities or take advantage of our abilities. It is optimism to aim high at work; it is pessimism to shirk added responsibilities.

It is optimism to view goodness in people, it is pessimism to be constantly suspicious.

The pessimist may view that there is more empty space above and beyond the half filled glass but let us not forget that what is at the bottom is real that we can touch, taste and  even drink. 

The empty space, if we focus on it, represents every which way it can lead to imagining everything that can go wrong instead of making do with what is already there at the bottom.

In the aftermath of WWII, optimists had to do with what was left of their country and of their lives, the pessimists looked back at what was lost and more that could be lost. It was 80/20, optimism/pessimism, that rebuilt everything - from the rubble to what we see today. 

I go back to what inspired Edith Piaf to compose and sing, "La Vie En Rose"

Recently, I came across another young singer to embrace that song.

Giulia Falcone is an Italian singer who I assume also speaks fluent French because it comes close to Edith Piaf's original rendition (circa 1946), but don't take my word for it because I don't speak French. Below, you can copy and paste the link to your search bar for her version of the song. Skip ad when prompted.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHwfv_cp7xY

Of course, for the close captioned English version, we have British singer Lucy Thomas:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yI3bOKIZKk

I hope I have turned the reader into an 80/20 optimist/pessimist.

(La Vie En Rose I wrote in Sept. is the link below:)

https://abreloth.blogspot.com/2024/09/la-vie-en-rose.html

Spider Web Talk

It is a scientific fact that when insects get caught in the spider's web, they do not expire (I try not to use the words "die" or get "killed") immediately.  They struggle for quite a bit, which gets them into more trouble. Web entanglement is bound to increase.  The spider detects the commotion more readily. The best strategy for the hapless prey is to keep still and not move at all, if the aim is to not alert the spider.  For sure, the poor insect will live a little bit longer but its fate is sealed. Or, is it?

Then, entomologists (those who first matriculated in medical schools then switched majors when the sight of blood became  psychologically discouraging at continuing with a medical career and to their great astonishment, these young students realized insects don't shed blood, so they went on to become entomologists) found out through meticulous observation with the aid of highly sophisticated recording devices that they can eavesdrop on what was going on, in terms of what exchanges occurred between prey and predator within the confines of a web.  By the way, you just read one of the longest number of words within a parenthesis ever written in the annals of English literature.

Here is a recording of  conversations on the spider web.  By the way,  long before the world wide web, so much conversation had really gone on the spider web that goes back some 380 million years ago, long before the dinosaurs bi-pedaled their way into a 160 million year domination of all living things on this earth.

Transcripts of these recordings are archived in some undisclosed location. I just happen to have access to a few of them.

Darwin's bark spider (Caerostris Darwinic) is an orb-weaver spider that produces the largest known orb webs, ranging from 900 to 28,000 square centimeters (140 to 4,340 sq in).  

CD (short for Caerostris Darwin) figured in a lot of these conversations.

Incident 1.  CD and the fly

CD: What have I got there?

Fly: Please. I made a mistake. But if you let me go I can lead others to come here. Fat ones too. You eat me and that's all you will get.  You see, as you begin to devour me, I would exude an abundant amount of anti-pheromones that will keep other flies away.

CD: You piqued my curiosity.  Indeed, you do. The word "devour" sounds awfully barbaric.  I seldom hear that. First of all, I and other species like me do not devour, if I understand what you meant. We are sophisticated diners, if you must know. We dine slowly and passionately.

Fly: Please let me go?

CD: Well, I might.  You're a fly.  I, for one, have always wanted to be a "fly on the wall", get that? So I can eavesdrop on human conversations. Tell me one good one and I might just let you go.

Fly: Once, I was on a wall of the apartment of one journalist.  He was talking on the phone. I assumed it was another journalist on the other line. He told the other person that he had come upon one crucial piece of information from a retired employee at the NSA.

CD: Wait! NSA, is it the same one I am thinking?

Fly: The very same on - National Security Agency - yes sir.

CD: Go on.

Fly: I can only hear one side of the conversation.  The reporter was telling the other that he had uncovered the truth about what really happened in Dallas on November 22, 1963.

CD: You mean ..

Fly: Yes. The reporter said he possessed documents to prove  that there was a second assassin involved in the shooting. There were two rifles with identical ballistics signatures ..

CD: Stop, stop! Since you can only hear one side, you obviously did not hear the laughter at the other end.  No, that story is preposterous. Tell me a better one.  You found me in a good mood, so you get another chance.

Fly: What about a  story from one of my great, great ancestors? 

CD: It had better be good.

Fly: One of my great, great ancestors was on the Berlin Wall.

CD: Oh my! But go on.

Fly:  He told this story about being on the Wall and he heard these two East Berlin guards talking.  One guard said, "Why are these people going over, and it goes only one way.  Everyone is escaping from our side but no one is sneaking in?"  The other guard said, "Shush. Keep your voice down". The first guard said, "No, really, why?"  The second guard asked, "What are you saying, telling me about this?" The first guard replied, "Why don't we go over ourselves?  I heard a lot of good stories. Great stories really, compared to what you and I get to tell our families and friends". The second guard replied, "Okay, we still have two hours before shift change. Do you have a handkerchief? Put it at the end of your rifle.  I'll do the same and let's go together". My great, great grandfather said that was the beginning of the toppling down of the wall".

CD: That is about as lame a story that I've ever heard. Well, I have my appetite back. I'm sorry but I need my snack now.

Fly: Wait, wait!

CD: You want me to believe that your great, great ancestor was in Berlin.  How did you get here?  How did your ancestors get here?  Rubbish!

Fly: How did the brown rat or the common Norway rat make it here? How did the fire ants from South America make the few-thousand-mile journey here?  How is it that the Komodo dragon made it to Indonesia from Australia?  By the way, Australians have not shown any gratitude for the Komodo dragon's decision to leave and settle where they are now.

CD: Nope, your stories have not convinced me to set you free.

Fly: Okay, I guess this one secret I know will die with me. Go ahead.  Devour me at will.

CD: What secret?

Fly: I will die with it. I am no longer scared.  It is a worthy sacrifice to save the other flies.  It's okay. 

CD: Okay, okay. Tell me this so-called secret and I will let you go.

Fly: You see those two praying mantises by that branch up there? They're hatching up a plan on a safe way to get you to be their next snack.

CD: Not only do I not believe you, they will not dare. Just like you, my web will be their doom.

Fly: Okay, you won't want to hear their plan.  I am ready. Go ahead. I don't care.

CD: What is their plan?

Fly: I accept my fate.  I will die anyway.  I will tell you if only for this reason. I hate those praying mantises more than I do you. 

CD: Why?

Fly: You wait patiently until one of my kind and many others make a mistake. They pay for that mistake. I am about to pay mine.  The praying mantis hunts us with the ferocity of a merciless predator. With you, we pay the price for our carelessness.

CD: Now, you're talking.  Go ahead, tell me their plan.

Fly: You are sitting at the center of your web, like being at the center of a bull's eye.  One mantis will fly below your web. Using just the tip of its one claw, it will pull down on the web and release it abruptly.  You will be catapulted like a stone into the air.  The other mantis will snatch you on the fly. That's one cruel way to use the common expression, "on the fly", got it?

CD: That is not funny but it is the first sensible thing you said.  Okay, I will appear to those brutes up there to move you to the edge of my web without letting on that I am moving away from the center of my  web to spoil their plan.  Keep still as I move you over.

Fly: You better hurry.  They're about to make a move.  I have better eyesight than you, so trust me.

CD: Okay, you're free to go.

Incident 2: Praying Mantis (PM) 1 and 2

PM1: I didn't know spiders taste so delicious.  I've never had one before.

PM2: What I want to know is what possessed it to move away from the center of its web. It must know that there is no way we can get to them if they remain at the center.

PM1: Yeah, not a single one of us dares to pluck them from the center of the web.  The risk is too high.  I still, for the life of me, don't understand why it moved to the edge by that one little twig.

PM2: Easy picking, I'll have to say.  By the way, why did it let the fly go? It's driving me bananas trying to understand that.

PM1: Yeah, I've never caught a fly. With their thousand eyes and ability to change direction, I don't even try to catch a fly on the fly. Get that? I thought I'd never get to use that expression.

PM2. Okay, we're done here.  I wish I can talk to that fly.

Just below under a leaf, the fly was listening to the two praying mantises as they ate and talked.   The entomologists concluded that the reason insects are the ultimate survivors is best exemplified by their abilities to adapt.  Humans will never be able to control them.  Ants and termites are great examples but let us not forget flies and mosquitoes. What about some of their weirdest methods of adaptation?  

The caterpillar, for example, has one of the wildest life cycles and eating habits. It will munch on leaves, gain weight, envelope itself in a cocoon, come out, sprout wings, fly and go on to change its diet into dining on nectar.  The mayfly will live for years, sometimes longer than a decade as an underwater predator.  Then one day, they will sprout wings, fly out of the water, find a mate, but live as aerial insets for just that one day and die.  But not before the females hatch their eggs by the water.  The cycle begins again. The larvae will live underwater as a predator.  How wild is that?

Insects. Should we get it past  their ability to talk among themselves?

I must refer the reader to the hyena for an answer when asked about the veracity of his story, who yelled back, "What is it you want?  A story or a debate?"

What Happens Next?

Of all the questions we pose for ourselves or those we ask of others - where, what, when, how, for example - are almost always straightforward; however, "what happens next" is the only one filled with anticipation, suspense,  and often a cloud of mystery. 

An infant is easily bored once any new stimuli gets old because from the moment the baby is used to experiencing new information often, his or her brain braces for what is new all the time. Long before the baby understands what is past and present, he or she is somehow more stimulated by what is about to happen, oblivious to the other tenses of time. That is why peek-a-boo is one of their easiest sources of amusement.  

We get to adulthood and "what happens next" remains one of the most interesting questions we ask  even in instances when we kind of know what is next.  That is because we are never sure until it happens. Yet, we are also somehow pulled into believing in the certainty of fate even when we believe that we are capable of free will.  How is that?

The French has a phrase, "fait accompli".

Fait accompli, pronounced "fate uh-COM-plee," describes something that has already happened, or been done and cannot be changed; presumably irreversible. 

As word origins go, fait is not the root word for faith. Neither for fate. But they all seem to be correlated with each other.  That is perhaps because faith is about believing in something without a need for proof while fate always connotes as something that cannot be changed. 

But what about free will? 

Well, by each definition of the word and word phrase, fate and free will are made mutually exclusive of each other.  That is the quandary we face - the futility of not being able to do anything outside of the script that is written for each of us or the risk and uncertainty one faces for  the potential for misdirection or misstep as a result of free will.

Now, I think there is a way. It would first mean that we must believe that fate and free will though both can be true are not necessarily exclusive of each other.  Bear with me.

Fate - the script  for each individual is a draft written at birth, a function of the circumstances of who the parents are, that include their social status and origin. Free will is the ability of the individual, over time and through determined and unrelenting effort, to rewrite the script. 

I wrote on July 24, 2018, "...It would be Curling" as a metaphor for life after the Olympic winter sport curling. We are familiar with the images of the sport where one player releases the stone forward along the ice where two teammates sweep ahead of the sliding stone to influence and change its direction towards the target. 

I wrote then:

Imagine, we are the stones traveling along the path of life. Whatever our stations in life, privileged by birth, or plagued by misfortunes of destitution and abject poverty, we are all equally driven by desire to get somewhere - a target position of more wealth and prestige or merely a place a little more comfortable or a little less wanting of the basic necessities of life, and perhaps a yearning for just a little bit more than what we have now. Whatever the place we dream about, the path may not always be smooth. It could be a little rough for some, more pebbly or discouragingly rocky for others. Just as in the sport, there are "ice technicians" sprinkling layers of obstacles in our path. The ice technicians could be other people not wanting us to succeed or circumstances we find ourselves in, that we need to overcome. But we were not to be deterred from reaching the place...

...If we're fortunate to reach that place, we look back and realized that as we sled through much of the journey, someone or many others had swept the ice in front of us.  Parents were the first sweepers in front of their children's path for years before sons and daughters realize the amount of energy, worry and anguish it took to get those brooms working. What little they know about how frantic at times their parents had to sweep in front, sometimes hollering and screaming (as what happens in the sport of  curling), because they didn't want them to go astray of that "5-meter-wide-lane" and target. There are two sweepers in curling, one to each side of the stone. A single sweeper faces the daunting task of single parenting. Doing the sweeping from either side of the stone is twice as hard and the rare but laudable successes of single parents deserve twice the acclaim. 

And so we read stories like that of Booker T. Washington and so many others who rose above the circumstances they were born in.  They successfully re-wrote the script written for them.  Of course, there seems to be as many stories of many who were born in the midst of the upper social status and circumstances who managed to squander untold opportunities by rewriting the script written for them in the penmanship of a downward spiral.

Those are what  I call up-scripting and down-scripting (terms I created) the drafts (fates) written for every individual. It is akin to each of us being handed a script at birth and along the way we manage to make changes here and there and with the help of sweepers (again, like in curling) in front of us and the power of our own free will, the draft is re-written. We managed with our free will the ability to determine, "What Happens Next" at each page of the draft.

This is perhaps a simplified view, even naive, but if we rely on fate and fate alone, the air of resignation would seem palpable as to make any of our efforts to be for naught. A life that cannot rise above the futility of a "fait accompli" would indeed not be worth striving for.

This is a micro look into the life of an individual but what about in the macro world of accidents, catastrophic disasters, wars, world events beyond our control, etc.?  What do we make of that? That will be for another musing.  Meanwhile, I leave the reader with this: In the scale of the entire universe, where even our entire solar system where a million earths would fit inside our sun, the entire patch of where we are is lost in the glare of the entire galaxy; our galaxy a medium size patch in a trillion patches that make up one incomprehensibly massive world only a Divine Creator can conceive.

The reader may want to read "..It Must Be Curling" for additional insight into fate and free will (and know a little bit more about the Olympic sport of curling (copy link below into your search bar and click):

 https://abreloth.blogspot.com/2018/07/it-would-be-curling.html