My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Who We Are
People are essentially good, but there is a temptation to make them even better, to rob them of the capacity to be wrong and to act sometimes in a truly evil way. There is a potential for the appearance of either aspect. What gives us value is the tendency to live most often in a direction or with an inclination that makes the occurrence of evil so startling, an exception so out of line with what we have assumed would be. There is no need to deny our capacity to be the worst of who we can be. What should instead be guarded against is an inclination to dismiss it, to not note the inclination and downplay the instances of its occurrence.
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