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Deserving Versus Undeserving Pride

Deserving Versus Undeserving Pride

Pride in all its forms is vanity.
What we’d like to proclaim is that the finest creature to be –
Coincidentally –
Fortuitously –
Is me.
We can’t bring this off.
Not convincingly anyway.
So, we do the next best thing.
Hint that the ideal is to be is a creature like me.
Born and raised in my neighborhood.
Believing what I believe.
Occupying themselves just the way I do.
Et cetera.
Such that a disinterested party might reason:
Born and raised there –
Believing that –
Occupied thus –
Wait a minute –
That’s you, isn’t it?
Obviating the need to declare:
Even if fate hadn’t created me as it did –
Hadn’t placed me in this physiological vessel –
Awarded me this timespace –
I’d have selected it all anyway –
Out of every option on the planet –
Throughout all of history.
WHY SELF-ISHNESS?
Self is what we take pride in most.
The simple realisation that others aren’t us.
This is why we regard them coolly.
They’re a breathing riposte to our supremacy.
An organic argument against our way being the high way.
How to assert our validity?
Take pride in our life choices.
Though it would be truer to say that they choose us than we them.
That none of us do any of the things we do without uninvited inspiration.
Nevertheless, pride vindicates our choices.
Gives us motive to go on.

Is History History?

Is History History?

Written history claims to be a bigger truth-teller than historical literature.
Is it fibbing?
Or has historical backcasting revealed itself to be as contingent as weather forecasting?