Life’s full of surprises. While this keeps things interesting, it’s also destabilizing. Just as one gets used to something, it changes. It’s so systematic that you suspect a conspiracy at work, maybe “the cosmic joke”? Some part of this process is motivated by the desire of each generation to distinguish itself from the last. This gave rise to the Flappers, the Zoot Suiters, the Greasers, the Beatniks, the Hippies and continues to this day. One learns to either adapt and accept whatever comes along, to live like a recluse, or keep one’s mouth shut and try not to get demoralized.
There are a few things which stay relatively stable. Language allows us to communicate by identifying the things around us with clearly-defined names. Where do these names come from? In the Bible, God gives names to just a few things and allows Adam and Eve to name the rest. God names the Universe, Man and Woman and leaves everything else to the judgment of earth’s new tenants.
Plato’s dialogue Cratylus is a philosophical discussion of the origin of words. The debate centers around whether words have some natural basis to them or random designations. Hermogenes, one of the three participants, argues that words are socially agreed upon signs. A table is a table because that’s what we call it. Cratylus responds that a name is a deeper reflection of the essence of an object, not just a social convention, having a transcendental essence. Finally, Socrates takes over and, while arguing that words do have some natural basis, says that truth is beyond words, and we should strive to know the thing itself. I think most poets and writers would agree with Cratylus. Why else would one spend hours searching for the right word?
Recently I went into a trendy restaurant and ordered a hamburger and coleslaw. The waiter brought me fish and chips. Thinking he’d confused my order, I politely said that there was a mistake. He looked at me condescendingly and said that anyone could see that this was a hamburger. Confused I said I saw fish and chips, and it wasn’t what I wanted. Hearing this, he got worked up and said that he saw a hamburger, that all right-minded people would agree that the dish before me was a hamburger, and that only wrong-minded people saw anything else but a hamburger. Then he asked again what did I see? People in the restaurant started glaring at me. I looked once more down at the plate. He was right! It was a hamburger! The burger tasted like fish and chips, but I switched mental gears and got through it.
I decided to get dessert. I ordered a slice of apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream and a cup of coffee. The waiter arrived with what looked like a Ceasar salad, onion rings and prune juice. He placed it on the table before me in silence, giving me a piercing look. The entire restaurant turned to see what would happen. I thanked him and said it was the best-looking apple pie I’d ever seen, the ice cream looked delicious, and the coffee had a full and rich aroma. The waiter seemed pleased. Then, under a sea of watchful eyes, I nibbled at it but realized that I wasn’t really in the mood for dessert after all. I asked for the bill. I wondered what he’d bring me? But no surprises; and it was more expensive than usual.