“Easy to say, hard to do. And maybe some frenzy is good,” you say. “Look, there are causes worth defending, worth getting worked up about. There are offenses that can’t be ignored. There are people who just don’t respect other people. We just can’t say, ‘I just want to say—you know—can we all get along? Can we, can we get along?...We just gotta, we gotta. I mean we’re all stuck here for a while let’s, you know, let’s try to work it out….’”
“I get it. You’re repeating the words of Rodney King, the taxicab driver who was assaulted by the LA police in 1962 in an incident that kicked off six days of frenzied killing and mayhem, leaving 63 dead, 2,393 injured, 3,100 business damaged, and about a billion dollars in financial loss. Yes, Rodney asked a reasonable question in his personal attempt to stop the rioting. Why, just why can’t we all get along? Why do we turn to frenzy when we have the ability to reason?
“Maybe my request to separate from that which stirs the inner brain is one of those idealistic propositions. Maybe it’s just an empty, though nice, thought, something like a birthday party balloon that makes airiness seem at least temporarily possible, even though all the party-goers know that the balloon, if not refilled with helium, will eventually succumb to gravity.”
“Yes, and that’s why I say turning to the cerebral is not always easy,” you reiterate. “Even I get flustered. Even I get caught up in public frenzy—not that I would participate in a riot.” You continue, “No, I would never have joined in any of those historical riots just as I don’t join in any current riots or frenzied public displays. But, look, I’m just trying to say that it’s almost impossible to avoid at the very least the ‘feeling’ of frenzy. I can get away for a little while, read a book, sit in meditation, take a yoga class, get a massage, float on a raft, but I always have to return to the daily world and exposure to everyone else’s frenzy. Frenzy has a gravity of its own. Every time I get away, I return, as some might say, by hitting the ground running. I can float for a short time, but I weigh too much for any balloon of reason to keep me suspended—even if I ride in a blimp, I’ll need to return sometime. The destiny of every floating balloon or parachute is a collision with a spinning planet. And way up in ethereal outer space, without intervention by the continued expense of energy, even satellites fall. Floating in air or in space is a nice image, but our emotional world has a gravity that is unavoidable ultimately. The inner brain is the center of that gravity. The outer brain does what it can to stay in the air, but there’s an inevitability to the pull from the interior.”
“Okay, you win. I see that my initial statement is mostly wishful thinking. But like so many before me, I have an outer brain that tells me to resist that gravity of the inner brain—for my own and for others’ good. I understand your point, however. Staying afloat in cerebral bliss, in airy debate sans emotions, requires the expenditure of rational resistance. Just as gravity is a universal force, an enveloping ‘field,’ so the inner brain exerts a field, a field of frenzy. And just as standing on Earth is easier than getting above it, so frenzy is easy.
“In a way, humans have long tried to defy the gravity of the inner brain. I'll draw from something someone famous once said. Think of President Kennedy’s call to reach the moon in 1962: ‘We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win….’”
You respond, “Noble, but still a bit too idealistic to apply here. Let me see whether or not I understand you. So, are you comparing the escape from the inner brain to Kennedy’s call for an escape from Earth?”
“Hey, why not? Think about the key word in his speech at Rice University: ‘choose.’ All of us use the outer brain to make mostly conscious choices, that is, choices governed by reasoning. Yes, before you tell me, I do know that all the parts of the brain work somehow in conjunction and that not only does emotion tinge reasoning, but it also serves as the underlying ground upon which all reason rests, since, as Gödell basically let us know, no system, mathematical or otherwise, can ultimately prove itself. Nevertheless, in many daily matters, we can choose rather rationally to defy the force of frenzy. My recommendation? When upon reading or hearing a call to frenzy you ‘feel’ yourself becoming a bit frenzied, think of powering that satellite to stay up in space or refilling that balloon of reason to keep it afloat in defiance of the inner brain’s incessant pull. You’ll choose reason, not because it is easy, but because it is hard. Making that choice is what separates you from the field of frenzy in which you live. The effort will, to use Kennedy's words, 'serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills.'”