"Christianity, alcohol – the two great means of corruption."
– The Anti-Christ
"Alcohol and Christianity – the two great European narcotics."
– Twilight of the Idols
Public Houses aren't normally my scene. Although when quiet and when in good company they can be pleasant enough this blog post was written to showcase my general unease around pub culture.
Indeed, working in one less than a decade ago caused me much unhappiness and ill feeling, compounding the so-called mental health difficulties that I was experiencing at the time.
The reasons for my avoiding this well-entrenched British (and English-speaking) institution are manifold:
- I dislike large groups.
- I dislike the din and noise that comes with said groups.
- I dislike getting drunk and even the mere feeling of being slightly drunk.
- I dislike drunken and rowdy behaviour, especially given the fact that drunk people seem to lose all sense of psychological and physical boundaries.
- I dislike overhearing conversations revolving around the humdrum and, for me, depressing worlds of workaday living, money, sports, consumer objects, political cliché and local gossip.
- I dislike being in the presence of and having to witness the lusty instincts of pub-goers, both male and female.
- I dislike the fact that the fuel for exchange in pubs is based on the materiality of alcoholic beverages rather than the spirituality of philosophical yearning. Platonic style symposia, even with drink in plenty, would be far more to my liking (excepting of course homoerotic involvements).
- I dislike the general public, especially that part of it which is drawn to fulfilling itself through binge-drinking and imitative group-think.
- I dislike the smell of most pubs.
- I dislike the many pubs with TV screens blaring their low consciousness, thoughtless and manipulative rubbish.
- If a pub has music there is more than a chance I'll dislike the choice of music and I am sensitive to musical communication.
- I dislike having to spend money on drink which I have to consume in an environment where I cannot hear myself think.
- I dislike witnessing people being sick.
- Watching the bar workers slaving away for the benefit of the paying public brings back bad memories of myself being an unhappy bar worker who was not in his element.
- I dislike being witness to verbal or physical aggression that often arise in pub environments.
- I dislike materialist escapism which draws and thrives on animalistic instincts.
Of course none of the points above will come as a surprise to those who view me an unemployed pussy philosopher but, as Nietzsche himself knew,
"Freedom comes when that part of yourself you least liked becomes the part of yourself you most like."I cannot help it if my own methods of escapism do not involve hitting the town and getting drunk but instead entails reaching for and grasping dainty butterflies in the sky of ideas.
While drinking alcohol and having a conventional idea of fun may be the closest thing many people have to the nourishment of philosophising, I myself plan to commune with my spirit in a straightforward and quiet way, using the company of like-minded life companions, authors, artists and composers to guide me along my path to spiritual ecstasy.