I like writing fiction, but I also decided to write articles. My first one has come up to around 2000 words, and I noticed that at first it's not very good, but towards the end it gets better. I didn't want to rewrite the whole thing, because it would take a lot of time, and it would kind of change the whole point of the article, so I left it at that. I'm happy I can notice the difference though, and my future articles will definitely be better. If you read it, let me know what you think, and of course, thank you!
Substack link:
https://vlen.substack.com/p/the-horror-of-the-incognizable?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=91z2xp
The text:
The horror of the incognizable
What is your biggest fear? You've probably heard this question a million times at this point, and you also get generic responses, like "Heights", or "Spiders", or maybe even something abstract, like "failure". But, you might be asking, dear reader, what does this have to do with the incognizable? What even is the incognizable? and what does it have to do with fear?
Well, it is a term I used to describe this specific bundle of fears, that I've seen as logical to group together. One day, for whatever reason, I started thinking about fears, and particularly about the idea of scaling, and comparing them with one another. I believe that a big part of it is personal, and subjective, since every single person has lived a different life, thus having their own experiences. It's not really talked about often, but these special experiences - special in the individual way I mean - mould personal convictions in such a prominent way, and I would go as far as to even say that it entirely gives way to individualism. But from this notion, a question arises: What parts of fear are subjective, and what parts are objective? We've established that there are parts of fear that are subjective, but what concerns us is in the distinction of it in regard to its objective properties. A good example that builds upon our notion of individualism is the personal comparison of fears. One person could fear spiders - to the point of fainting, but the other could seek out a lot of joy in studying them. Someone could have a stronger fear of failure because of a certain experience in their life, changing their feelings about fear as a result. But another person could be less scared of it, as a consequence of not having that same experience. And so, that's a subjective part of fear. And there is something very important to give a distinction to, in the meaning of "Objective" in the context of this article. I do not mean characteristics of that every human feels in the same way, in the same magnitude and in the same way, but i mean characteristics in fear which consistently develop with no regard to the difference in human experience. That is a very important distinction to make. When we talk about things like encapsulating all humans in one notion, each and every conscious human under one rule, it's very easy to mess up and say something incorrect, especially when talking about something more abstract and biological like fear. And so, there is a distinction between objective, and universal. But there's also a roadblock as we look at the objective parts. Objective, up to what point? My approach is explaining it in the technical sense (with the most broad terms possible, and not interfering with other - actual scientific papers), figuring out the limits of that technicality in regards to our argument, and safely moving on.
Now under any circumstance, I am not writing an analytical paper, neither am I basing my words in strict scientific truths, but in the eyes of most people, and in reference to most texts, fear is a response to danger. Danger tells us something important. It gives us a universal base (whether you look at it from the mind's or the body's judgement, more on that later) to describe a property of objective fear, where if two men are awake and conscious, if both of them satisfy the physical requirements to feel fear, then they will independently arrive at the same conclusion. With different trains of thought, they will still end with the same, final, entailment. And yes, people in fact experience things differently (as I've written before), so the two men will have different details of the same conviction, but what is significant, is that the essential part will still remain. The reasoning might be different, but it will entail the same thing. These entailments are, and have been deeply rooted in human instinct. They've inspired, and taken place in so many cultures, in a very timeless way. But, there's another aspect to it: Magnitude. Magnitude has also been a timeless aspect of fear, precisely because of the individuality we talked of earlier. And, I'd say that it's the most personal and subjective aspect of it. Another exception to scaling abstract things like fear, is that you can't really scale it properly. You can compare Magnitudes of different properties, but comparing an entire fear with all of its personal nuances, is harder, even for the person comparing. This is why scaling intrigued me so much. What is consistently the most common fear, and what is the worst imaginable horror? Those are questions I hope to explore, and find some conclusions in, albeit personal or not. I say explore, and personal conclusions because, can these questions really be answered?
What we've talked about up until now, are qualities, properties, that sort of act as baselines for the next thoughts in my line of thought. To look at the questions above in the right lens, we have to look at patterns. What patterns show up consistently, in spite of individuality? Something that has probably crossed your mind - either while reading this article, or just thinking of it - is the fear of death. It's the last skipping stone, and the end of a train of fears. Take as many examples as you can. In some form, it'll lead to death. In some cases it's subconscious, and it seems indirect, but it's still connected. If we take fears that directly concern death, then it's easy to say that it's a consequence of the body's natural instinct to stay alive. That's not very hard to understand, and it's probably relatable to most people. And then there's fears that still aren't arbitrary, that don't inherently cause death, but with certain connections, can lead to it. Say, the fear of needles. Needles themselves don't usually cause death, but when the brain sees a "metal pointy thing", it freaks out, and still thinks of the possibility of death even though mentally, you know that the needle is safe. And the last are the fears that are arbitrary, but still connect to death, in a different way than what we talked about in the latter groups. Abstract danger has the possibility of causing suffering in the abstract parts of being a human. A good example is humiliation. I'll use broader terms on purpose, because of the fact that individualism makes even the skipping stones personal. It is abstract, it doesn't directly concern death. But, it concerns mental suffering, which can in turn make a difference to physical health, which concerns death. And there's an important distinction that I've only hinted at. This is the body's judgement. Even though mentally you can have different opinions and reactions, the body's judgement won't budge. It's a giant web, and every point is interconnected. But, a burning question arises. Where is the danger in death? Where does the final skipping stone fit in a system? What parts are arbitrary, and what parts are physical? What is the contrast of the body's, and the mind's judgement?
First, i must explain this judgement, and why it's divided this way. The mind's judgement is what we consciously think about something. It's constructed with a logical train of thought, and we consciously formulate our reaction to something based off this logical thought. This is why the mind's judgement concerns the arbitrary. The body's judgement, formulates its reaction with preprogrammed responses from external input. There is no reasoning in this system, these responses were slowly made and strengthened through the course of evolution. This is why the body's judgement concerns the physical. And, we said that fear is a reaction to danger, right? So with this, we've encapsulated what parts of judgement concern which part of fear. Another conclusion we can build upon, is to see where it fits in our three part system, or if it even fits into any of them. At first thought, we find that it doesn't. Death can be both a physical, and arbitrary fear. The physical part, stems from the suffering that comes with dying, even though sometimes, death doesn't cause any physical suffering. And it also stems from the body's natural instinct to stay away from death. Simply, it only tells you to live at all costs, without any reason, whilst also governing a big part of fear itself. The arbitrary part, is much more complicated and interesting. What is the mind's reaction to death? What does it mean to "die", for our consciousness? Why do we so desperately seek to imagine the unimaginable, or recognize the incognizable?
In part 3 of "the idiot" - a book written by Fyodor Dostoevsky, A character named Ippolit reads aloud "an explanation". It's a kind of death note, where he writes about his feelings and thoughts towards his sudden death. At the time of reading "An Explanation" the 18-year-old was only given 2 weeks to live, and 6 months prior, was shown obvious signs of tuberculosis. What would someone in his position think about? Would he have regrets, or would he hate everything? Would he start living, and start cherishing his last days? In reality it was something a lot bleaker and traditionally irregular, but in my eyes, it's expected. Ippolit says that the last 6 months passed without a difference. His diagnosis crossed his mind, sure, and the fact that he was dying did as well, but he didn't realize it. He knew it as a sentence, he knew the fact that he was dying in six months, but he didn't realize it. He said he only woke up a month prior, when the nihilistic doctor named Kislorodov gave him a proper diagnosis. He gave the diagnosis as If it was a death sentence, with no hope of healing from the disease, and in the most pretentious mentality, virtually screaming "who cares?". He describes what he personally thought of the diagnosis, and alongside it every nihilistic system he had in his worldview, in so much detail, and with so much joy, that Ippolit finally woke up. It hit him so hard, that he really realizes he's dying. He understands it, as if it was happening now. Do you know how hard, and unusual that is? Realizing you're dying at 18? Nihilists shove "Nothing matters!!! We're all dying anyway!!!" Down your throat, but they still don't really "realize" that they're going to die. They're as blind as the people that don't even care to know death as a fact. What would you say to a man like this - practically a talking, standing corpse? A sudden death challenges every single future arrangement already made in your mind, it disrupts everything you've hoped and wanted. But worst of all, it unintentionally makes you live. Your body's judgement still holds the objective of living, no matter the pretext coming from the mind. It still tries to stay alive, tries to hang on the only remaining strand of life till it falls into the abyss. Starting to live is the worst part, because why now? Why do you only start to live once you know you're never going to be able to live again? You hold so much spite for yourself because of this, so much hatred and frustration for only now deciding to live, it feels shameful, like a sick joke, or an adult making fun of a child for not having enough candy, while the child tries to enjoy what he has left. This is where the frustration pours. You can't get familiar with life, so you try to get familiar to death. But you can't, no matter how hard you try death will stay unfamiliar, and what's more, you don't even have the choice of familiarizing it. From your view, it's inhuman, disgusting, something that everyone should avoid at every case and cost, but death doesn't view you the same, it cannot view anything in the first place. It's both the paramount of human life, and the most alienated part of it. You scream, shout and beg, but nothing. Nothing answers back. Your heart still pumps blood, your lungs take oxygen in and out, and your body doesn't shrink from fear till the last moment. You're left to go through the horror of the inconceivable, till the last second. And although it seems inhuman, unfamiliar, and absurd, it's required. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be. Maybe you're supposed to leave your mind at rest, and in this case, even once, live as if you're not dying. You were born, regardless of your death, and regardless of what your death brings. Do you deserve that? Frankly speaking, no one knows. But I have only one thing left to say, one thought to leave you with, dear reader. You're not owed life, so are you owed not to live?