There are thoughts that we don't want to have - logic and reasons that drive us crazy or, more often, drive us to thoughtlessness - our simple conclusions save us from hard things. I can't have any more discussions in which there is this side and that side and someone's arguing one and someone's arguing the other. You have two points, you ignore the maze that connects them.
I'm known for my sophistic arguments. I ignore my own thoughts in order to prove myself right. Most people either aren't smart enough to catch on or they're smart or complacent or wise enough to just let me be. Leave it to me to say I'd like them to believe I think they're smart and wise, instead of ever giving into my ego enough to think I'm talking to a bunch of dumb asses. But sometimes I am convinced that's the case. I'm proven wrong often enough that I try not to give superior feelings too much credence - the human creature is designed to work best when it knows it's the best. Or, at least, there seems to be a high correlation between moments of high confidence and moments of sheer brilliance (physical or mental).
I might amend that statement here - that perhaps when we feel superior to others, then we are foolish and blind, but when we feel sure of ourselves without hindrance from superior OR inferior feelings, we lay out a path of competence and beauty.
But still, I'm not unhindered by either - feelings of superiority and of inferiority dog me daily. I'm both painfully self-conscious and stubbornly thoughtless about self-awareness. I rarely go five minutes without stopping to criticize my own thoughts - how they're phrased, how they're willfully ignorant of too many concepts for my hasty, impatient mind to put into words, how they're so obviously biased even I have a hard time choking them down - but when I go about trying to put these thoughts into words, I have a sense that BECAUSE I put so much thought into criticizing them that must mean I've got something decent and thoughtful to say. But the truth is that I don't give myself the time to truly THINK - I get derailed by my own criticism or praise and then start thinking about the way I'm analyzing myself and eventually end up going down so many spirals of "self-analysis" that I don't know who I am but I sure as hell know that I'm suffering from SOME sort of crisis, damn it.
"Just because you think deeply about yourself doesn't mean you're a deep person." Read that in a psychology article somewhere.
But something I do manage to expand my thoughts on is human psychology in general - perhaps, being untrained (I took one psych class in high school and have taken about six sociology classes since), this is just a way for me to think about myself in a general sense so that I don't weigh myself down with guilt and fear. But perhaps I really am inclined to some sort of understanding of my fellow human beings, and I use what evidence I run across in my daily life to try to figure out my world. Again, I probably have the means to do this in a more objective manner, but it's difficult to motivate yourself to be objective when you don't really believe in objectivity. Everything is subjective. Either it's subjective or it isn't aware. My concepts of God/the Tao get wrapped up in this often - that if there is a God it is simply the collective sense of how things go, without awareness and yet with perfect awareness because all objects are a sense of itself, and all living things that have senses are able to perceive different aspects of itself. My perceptions are a fraction of the Tao's/God's/life's/what have you's sense of objectivity... I am a piece in a fractal - incomplete without the whole but definitive of it as well.
So I don't perceive my thoughts as being right or wrong, though I very strongly believe in what I believe is right and very strongly protest against what I believe is wrong.
I have a friend who likes to tell me that this perception is a form of passive aggressive behavior, a mannerism which makes it so I never have to commit to confrontation should I get into an argument with another person. I see where he's coming from and I know that my distaste for confrontation is a part of the build-up of my belief system, yet contrary to his criticism and my acknowledgment, I very strongly disagree with him. I have opinions. I will explain them, defend them, or amend them on a situational basis. They are flexible but not flimsy: every human being (as far as I can tell) has an innate need for control. Control of the self, of surroundings - what have you. A personal sense of autonomy, of freedom. Probably this is a cultural idealism - but it's a reality in my world. This sense can become pathology - can become corrupt, and actually evil. If you use it to oppress, to harm, and most importantly to take away that same sense of control and self from others, you are using it for evil. If you use it to help yourself and others, to build and create, to hold yourself responsible for your fate (whether it's "really" in your hands or not, people who believe they are in control of their fate are generally happier - the most effective way to weaken people and oppress them is to make them believe they are not in control, or to put them in a situation where they're not in control whether they believe they are or not, of their own fate) then you are not using it for evil.
I won't define good. I haven't thought about it nearly as much as I've thought about evil. Is good selflessness, or a strong sense of self? Are those two ideals one and the same? Are there people like Peter Wiggin from Ender's Game, who have the "soul of a murderer" but, because they feel strong and capable, are able to take sociopathic personalities and use manipulative, conscience-less traits for good? Is someone like Peter, who tortured woodland creatures and his younger siblings as a child but who grew up to 'save the world' and bring peace to humanity (by taking control of it - wait, is Peter a communist? o_O), selfless, or selfish? (I'm not sure if that's an impossible personality or not - certainly the idea of someone unifying the entire world seems impossible and Peter Wiggin is more than fantastical as a character, but... could there be toned down versions of him?) I'm quite sure it's possible to feel strongly compassionate and still commit evil acts - so I'd guess the opposite is also possible.
I feel like I'm oversimplifying a little, so I'll quote Neil Gaiman (or Terry Goodkind) to get myself back on track - though it's not a direct quote. There are acts of terrifying evil that would make the Devil himself shrink back in disgust and there are acts of such angelic goodness that God himself would bow his head in awe, all of which human beings are capable of and, on closer inspection, you might often find that the person who committed one is the same person who committed the other.
Well, these are some thoughts. No conclusion, because usually all of my conclusions become outdated quickly. It's frustrating to never be able to find a unifying hypothesis for everything...
Grr. Humanity. (Oh wait. It's 42...)
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