I
Enclosed within a city wall, in a building standing 220 foot tall resided a rather stout and bespectacled man sitting alone in his office. On the office door, the placard read ‘My philosophy undermines the need for titles’. While reading the daily broadsheets, this man was startled as a knock emerged from the office door.
“Come in!” the man pleaded. The door opened, in entered a slight and grubby man with a week’s worth of stubble.
“Hello, sorry to bother you, are you the psychiatrist?”
“Well my work does encompass cognitive science, parts of psychology and the like, so I suppose I’m a pseudo-psychiatrist. Why? Can I help you?”
“Yes, I don’t know if you remember me, we met once at a family function. I found out about your current job and am interested in your unusual ideas. I’ve just popped in for some advice and moral support I guess, do you think you can help?”
“What sort of advice?”
The befuddled unkempt man, whose confidence was initially high at asking the learned man's advice, suddenly dwindled as soon as he engaged in conversation.
“Well”, said the now uneasy man, “I’ve been on anti-depressants for close to 10 years now and nothing seems to work. I’ve done some bad things in my time through low self-esteem. I want to be good again and happy. Or just to feel normal. I’ve heard good things about you. The one time I met you I knew you could help me. So can you tell me the reasons why people are bad?”
The philosophically inclined man gave a wry smile before pondering the question.
“That question is too vague for me to go into detail. My possible answers would be too complex to give you in a single sitting. I can see you’re a desperate man though. So I’ll do my best to put you at ease for the time being. I’ll give you 10 minutes of my time for now and you can try and arrange an appointment with my secretary for more time in the future”. He was thanked.
“No problem. So tell me why you’ve come here exactly. What do you feel I can do for you that no professional physician could?”
“Well, I think I will never be completely normal in any sense of the word. Possibly from the amount of drugs I’ve taken but I would like some respite from my thoughts. I need something to strive for and a better understanding of why the world is as it is and why I feel so shit. I've been to a few CBT sessions and found it beneficial for a while but I'm struggling to find suitable and desirable goals. Can you tell me why I feel so sad?” He faced the floor waiting for a response.
“Ah!” said the theorist “Again your words are vague. I'm inclined to believe you are somehow following every logical fallacy available to man. Are we supposed to be born happy and remain in a state of bliss, every waking hour? Emotions show that your body and mind are working. Something evolved for some purpose is giving rise to your ephemeral thoughts. However pessimistic your thoughts are now wouldn’t even come close to the realities of many untold stories in history. Some people would not be able to distinguish between pleasure and pain - such was their lives - and they could be regarded as people nonetheless. Your problem could reside in you getting confused between the difference between concepts and perceived reality; cognitive heuristics. Please think more thoroughly before asking any more questions, my time is very important and I need more concrete thoughts to help you through your problems. I'm all for in-depth discourse but I'm trying to concentrate on a few overreaching projects at the moment, so please be concise”
Sensing a slightly belligerent tone in the philosopher’s voice, the despairing man despondently sighed and could only express some words that reflected his regret.
“I guess I can come back another time if that’s fine. I’ll think more before coming back”
“OK, I wish you well, I’ll look forward to our next chat” said the philosopher, feeling slightly miffed by another persons follies.
The somewhat suicidal entity concocted a whole realm of negative thoughts as he finished talking to the secretary located a few floors downstairs. He went outside and wondered if it was worth the time, money and effort to continue his pursuit of lucidity. Upstairs, the philosopher put the gloomy man into the back of his mind as he continued to go through some newspapers before planning for his day ahead. His days usually consisting of reading, writing and initiating correspondence with well respected academics throughout the world. Lately, however, it seemed that his mind was elsewhere.