On Happiness and Pride

There is a common misconception that is rampant in the United States, and most Western European nations that have succumbed to the oppression of the free-market system. That is that what a man has will make him happy. This, dear friends, is why all men are miserable! For what a man is adds more to this happiness than any possession he could call his own.

For a man may surround himself with things of the highest order, the latest and greatest of everything and anything, and still feel empty. This is because he shuns his individuality and his intellect and attempts to replace them with things boughten. Such a foul mistake! For the only thing continually and pervasively with a man is himself. One may lose their riches and pomp tomorrow, however they will still be the same person, the same intellect. This is why today so many fear solitude, and why solitude as a whole is shunned upon by society. Man is afraid to reflect upon himself in the dark, silent solitude of night. Solitude is something to be cherished, something to be sought after! For how can one possibly think when they are being badgered by the needs and desires of lesser creatures and hedonist beasts seeking only sensual pleasure and material goods? He cannot, and he will not. Thus he must remove himself from humanity, from the world, and from himself. When referring to humanity in general, he must cease saying "we," and start saying "they."

Aristotle says: It is not wealth but character that lasts.

Pain and boredom are the two most disastrous forces against happiness. All life exists on a sliding scale between the two, there is no escaping. For one can be in pain, in which instance he is not bored, for the pain occupies him. However, one may be free of pain, in which boredom takes over for there is nothing to occupy his mind. There is not better buffer from either of these forces than wealth of the mind, inner wealth. For as the wealth of mind and intellect grow, they leave less and less room for boredom. When a man can sit in silence, alone, for hours and not be bored - he is not stupid, he is highly intelligent. For he needs not the external influences that others allow to devour their wills and lives - he needs only himself and his thoughts . . . and he is happy.

The greatest time in life is what we, in the English language, term leisure. That is, a time where one is free from responsibility, from work - a time one has by themselves. However, most peoples' leisure time yields them only dullness and boredom; except of course when it is occupied with sensual pleasure or folly. Ordinary people think only how they will spend their time, the man with talent thinks how he will use it.

To be happy means to be self-sufficient says Aristotle. That is to say, all other forms of happiness wither away and die in time. This is especially true in old age when all happiness must dry up. When a man is old is the time when all men reflect on their previous life, whether they posses the most feeble of intellects or the greatest. For in this wretched state, nothing exists for man. He is left alone, sickly, and about to die. All men will reflect on their past life; all men will wish to live their life over again. Then they will die.

I shall leave pride relatively untouched, although it must be noted that national pride is the most base form of an already insidious concept. If a man has no qualities of his own for which to be proud, which to sharpen and exercise, he will seek pride in his nation. Otherwise, he would not wish to associate himself with something that he shares with so many millions of his country men.