Word for the day: mortalist

From the Oxford English Dictionary, XI.1099:

†’ mortalist. Obs. [f. MORTAL a. +IST.] One who believes the soul to be mortal [see quot.]
1636 R. BAILLIE Anabaptism (1647) The Familistick Anabaptists…are not only for the sleeping of the soul at death, but its annihilation…At first these mortalists did grant a resurrection of the body…but now..they deny any resurrection after death, all life either of body or soul.
1757 MRS. GRIFFITH Lett. Henry & Frances (1767) II. 26 A mortalist Deist sinks into an Atheist.

Curious that so useful a concept should be designated by so obscure a word. Hat tip to Peter Heinegg, Better than Both: The Case for Pessimism for drawing my attention to it.

A reflection on utilitarianism

A cardinal objection to utilitarianism as a moral theory has been that it is an inhuman theory, making upon us inhuman demands or requiring of us inhuman acts. Much of the work of utilitarian moral theorists has been an attempt to rebut this charge but, alas, the objection is largely sound and therefore such work is futile.

It is a pity that no utilitarian has had the courage to insist “Yes, my theory is inhuman. But it is humanity, not the theory, that is the problem…”

Every day…

Tous les jours on couche avec des femmes qu’on n’aime pas, et l’on ne couche pas avec des femmes qu’on aime.

–“Le maître” in Denis Diderot’s Jacques le fataliste et son maître

True. And every working day I pull myself out of bed to spend the day doing what I do not love, and not doing what I do love.

You can’t complain

Horror writer Thomas Ligotti makes the point at length through an adversarius fictivus that if you’re a pessimist, you’ll be silenced.

If human pleasure did not have both a lid and a time limit, we would not bestir ourselves to do things that were not pleasurable, such as toiling for our subsistence. And then we would not survive. by the same token, should our mass mind ever become discontented with the restricted pleasures doled out by nature, as well as disgruntled owe the lack of restrictions on pain, we would omit the mandates of survival from our lives out of a stratospherically acerbic indignation. And then we would not reproduce. As a species, we do not shout into the sky, “The pleasures of this world are not enough for us.” In fact, they are just enough to drive us on like oxen, pulling a cart full of our calves, which in their turn will put on the yoke. As inordinately evolved beings, though, we can postulate that it will not always be this way. “A time will come,” we say to ourselves, “when we will unmake this work in which we are battered between long burden and brief delight, and will live in pleasure for all our days.” The belief in the possibility of long-lasting, high-flown pleasures is a deceptive but adaptive flimflam. It seems that nature did not make us to feel too good for too long, which would be no good for the survival of the species, but only to feel good enough for long enough to keep us from complaining that we not feel good all the time.

In the workaday work, complainers will not go far. When someone asks how you are doing, you had better be wise enough to reply, “I can’t complain.” If you do complain, even justifiably, people will stop asking how you are doing. complaining will not help you succeed and influence people. You can complain to your physician or psychiatrist because they are paid to hear you complain. But you cannot complain to your boss or your friends, if you have any. you will soon be dismissed from your job and dropped from the social register. Then you will be left alone with your complains and no one to listen to them. Perhaps then the message will sink into your head: If you do not feel good enough for long enough, you should act as if you do and even think as if you do. That is the way to get yourself to feel good enough for long enough and stop you from complaining for good, as any self-improvement book can affirm. But should you improve, someone must assume the blame. And that someone will be you. This is monumentally so if you are a pessimist or a depressive. Should you conclude that life is objectionable or that nothing matters–do not waste our time with your nonsense. We are on our way to the future, and the philosophically disheartening or the emotionally impaired are not going to hinder our progress. If you cannot say something positive, or at least equivocal, keep it to yourself. Pessimists and depressives need not apply for a position in the enterprise of life. You have two choices: Start thinking the way God and your society want you to think or be forsaken by all. The decision is yours, since your are a free agent who can choose to rejoin our fabricated world or stubbornly insist on…what? That we should mollycoddle non-positive thinkers like you or rethink how the whole world transacts its business? That we should start over from scratch? Or that we should go extinct? Try to be realistic. We did the best we could with the tools we had. After all, we are only human, as we like to say. Our world may not be in accord with nature’s way, but it did develop organically according to our consciousness, which delivered us to a lofty prominence over the Creation. The whole thing just took on a life of its own, and nothing is going to stop it anytime soon. There can be no starting over and no going back. No major readjustments are up for a vote. And no melancholic head-case is going to bad-mouth our catastrophe. The universe was created by the Creator, damn it. We live in a country we love and that loves us back. We have families and friends and jobs that make it all worthwhile. We are somebodies, not a bunch of nobodies without names or numbers or retirement plans. None of this is going to be overhauled by a though criminal who contends that the world is not doubleplusgood and never will be. Our lives may not be unflawed — that would deny us a better future to work toward — but if this charade is good enough for us, then it should be good enough for you. So if you cannot get your mind right, try walking away. you will find no place to go and no one who will have you. You will find only the same old trap the world over. Lighten up or leave us alone. you will never get us to give up our hopes. you will never get us to wake up from our dreams. We are not contradictory beings whose continuance only worsens our plight as mutants who embody the contorted logic of a paradox. Such opinion will not be accredited by institutions of authority or by the middling run of humans. To lay it on the line, whatever, whatever thoughts may enter your chemically imbalanced brain are invalid, inauthentic, or whatever dismissive term we care to hang on you, who are only “one of those people.” So start pretending that you feel good enough for long enough, stop your complaining, and get back in line. If you are not as strong as Samson — that no-good suicide and slaughterer of Philistines — then get loaded to the gills and return to the trap. Keep your medicine cabinet and your liquor cabinet well stocked, just like the rest of us. Come on and join the party. No pessimists or depressives invited. Do you think we are all morons? We know all about those complaints of yours. The only difference is that we have sense enough and feel good enough for long enough not to speak of them. keep your powder dry and your brains blocked. Our shibboleth “Up the Conspiracy and down with Consciousness.”

From The Conspiracy against the Human Race: A Contrivance of Horror. (New York: Hippocampus Press, 2011), 171-4