Many years ago while taking my MA at a German university, I took a course in modern literature dealing with theater of the absurd. We talked a lot about absurdity that semester, and oddly enough, that in itself seemed absurd to me. After all, the world made sense, we were all going about our lives, there was tomorrow, what was the problem? In one way or another, I've been asking myself the same questions ever since ... but from the other side? When will the absurdity end?
The absurdest idea that I have to deal with is "terrorism". I mean, just look at the word: the root is "terror": abject, unwarranted fear. It doesn't matter what you are afraid of; what matters is that you are afraid. It's legitimized by the "-ism" on the end, like a system, a philosophy, a way of life. And, I suppose it is, for some ... for too many. What is it that we have to fear?
Some will say everything. Maybe they're right, but I don't think so. If you are afraid, two different groups of people have an advantage over you: those who are causing the fear, and those who know you're afraid. They are sometimes, but not always, the same groups. And, just what is it that they use to extort that fear? Property (if you don't secure it, someone will steal it), security (if you don't protect it, someone will take it away from you), or your physical well-being (we can always kill you). Well, I just don't get it. Going in the reverse direction: we're all going to die, we don't know when, so if it is as the result of some "terrorist act", what difference does it make? My security is gone the moment that someone claiming to look out for my well-being invades my privacy. Am I more secure, the more you know about me? Not really. The opposite is true. And, to any materialist, to anyone who defines himself by his possessions (which are more often than not not his or hers at all, but the lender's) ... well, what can I say?
So, in far-away Norway, in one of the most peaceful, social, balanced, low-profile places you can imagine, a right-leaning, Christian fundamentalist eliminates nearly one hundred innocent victims. Is this an act of terror? Not in the least. It is pure and simple absurdity. But ... and I think this is particularly important to note ... it's an absurdity we created. It didn't come out of the dark unknown, the secret chambers of reality to stalk and hunt us down. It came from us, from the meek who hope for all the wrong reasons that we'll inherit anything, maybe even the earth. The perpetrator wasn't some strange, other, dark-skinned, false-believing, foreign, depraved, mind-twisted, extremist. He was, in all probability, the guy next door. How absurd is that?
The point is in the end, that absurdity has become the norm. What Pynchon, Beckett, and others were telling us was as ignored as anything we've been told up until now. The sheer absurdity of our interaction with others, with those around us, with those with whom we can no longer relate because we know only what we know, with anyone who isn't me, with ... well with everyone ... is what should shock us even more than the violence this one single individual may have perpetrated.
We abhor the violence that we see, but we welcome the violence that is hidden. We put ourselves first, we envy our co-workers, covet their possessions and accomplishments, desire what they have, ignore all in need, find weakness in compassion, believe Spencer's spin on Darwinism is the way to go, reject anything greater than ourselves and firmly and doggedly believe that money can solve our problems. That all sounds like absurdity to me.
No, terrorism isn't our greatest threat. It's a red herring. What we need fear more than anything else (if we need fear anything at all) is absurdity. When do we simply say that enough is enough, just a little bit of sense couldn't hurt? We can't as long as we're afraid, but what we're afraid of is simply ourselves. How absurd is that?
