In the name of the general

Ledat’s pulse pounded in his ears and his throat as he approached General Ungar’s tent. He was trembling like a cart on cobblestones, and his hands were hot and itchy.

The summons to the General’s tent had been as sudden as it was terrifying. He had been minding his own business, doing his training exercises in his personal tent (one of the few privileges of being in officer training) when one of the General’s inscrutable adjutants had walked in, told him to go to the General’s tent, and left, without ceremony.

As Ledat climbed the rocky path to the General’s tent, his mind boiled with possible reasons he might have been summoned. Had he made some terrible mistake? Were these his last moments as an officer in training? Or as a soldier at all? The thought of returning to his home village in disgrace made Ledat nauseous with dread.

Ledat entered the General’s tent, and paused in the antechamber to try to collect his wits. It’s probably nothing, he assured himself. Just some routine adjustment to his training. Or bad news about a relative. Something harmless like that.

Thus reassured, Ledat steadied himself, put his sword in the basket beside the flap to the inner sanctum, and entered.

Inside, Ledat could, at first, see nothing because of how dimly lit the room was. But soon his eyes adjusted and he could see that the room, like its resident, was large, spare, simple, and extremely tidy.

And apparently unoccupied. Ledat looked around the room over and over without result. Then, just as his confusion was giving way to panic, he heard the soft and familiar noise of a page being turned.

And there he was, the Great General himself, sitting quietly in front of a small field fire, reading a massive book. He had clearly been there the entire time, yet somehow Ledat had not noticed him at all. How was that even possible?

“Officer Cadet Ledat r-reporting as ordered, sir.”

The barest of nods from the massive man. At nearly six feet tall, the General towered over other men, and had a body like a garrison wall. Everything about him conveyed power, authority, and a solidity that made him seem more real than other men.

For what seemed like a long time to Ledat, there was silence except for the crackling of the fire and the turning of the pages.

Finally, without turning to look at Ledat, the General said, “Cadet Ledat, do you think me a strong man? ”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“It is a simple question, Ledat. Do you think I am a wise man?”

Ledat’s heart was in his throat. What madness was this? “Of course, sir. Your strength is legendary among the…”

“And do you think me an intelligent man? ” asked the General.

Ledat forced himself to stop trembling. He smelled a trap but could not, for the life of him, figure out what it was. “Yes, sir. You are a shrewd tactician, as well as a learned… ”

“And do you think me a wise man?”

“No man could be wiser, sir. ”

“And do you respect me?”

“Yes sir. Completely. ”

Finally, the General turned to look down at Ledat, and spoke to him in a voice of cold iron : “Then why have you been insulting me to everyone who will listen to you?”

Ledat’s shock was total. He felt like he was going insane. Insult the General? He would never even think of it. It would be akin to blasphemy. “B-b-but sir, I would never… ”

“So you deny it? ” snapped the General.

“Well I… I don’t know… if you say… but I would never….

“My most trusted advisors say differently. They have compiled a long list of people who swear upon their oath that you have called my wisdom and judgment into doubt dozens and dozens of times. It seems you think me a fool. I have called you hear today so that you can tell me exactly why. ”

Ledat felt like the tent was turning very slowly around him. His mind was chaos. One notion seemed more promising than the rest, as so he seized upon it. “P-perhaps if the General could be more specific… ”

“More specifically, Cadet Riche Ledat, you have been witnessed numerous times saying that you did not know why you had been chosen for officer training, that you did not think you could handle it, that you didn’t think you were good enough, and that you expected to wash out at any moment. Do you deny having said these things? ”

“No sir. There would be little point of that. But I don’t see how… ”

“Do you remember the day you learned you had been chosen for officer training, Ledat?”

“Yes sir, I do. ”

“Do you remember how the letter of induction began?”

Ledat thought back. “I think it was something like…. ‘You have been personally chosen by the Great General Ungar to… ”

Ledat’s face went pale. Suddenly he understood.

“Not everyone gets that letter, Ledat. Most enlisted men never get any letter at all, and when they do, it is usually quite brief, and it is most definitely not hand delivered by one of my personal adjutants. ”

“I…. hadn’t thought of it that way, sir. ”

“Clearly not. And everything in that letter was true, Ledat. I personally chose you for officer training because I saw, and continue to see, something in you that no wise leader would ignore. You have an excellent mind, Ledat, and that alone would qualify you to be an officer. But you also have heart, and the courage of your convictions, and those are what lead a man to greatness. So there will be no more doubting yourself and your ability to succeed, Ledat. Not in word, not even in thought. Because when you doubt yourself, you doubt me. You are dismissed. ”

With that, Ledat left the tent, head spinning with confusion, but with a soft sweet song of joy growing in his heart.

THE END

Life is boring

Bear with me on this one, because the ideas are not fully formed yet. But here goes.

The problem with the modern world is that it is boring. This is largely a good thing. Generations before ours have worked hard at making life as boring as they could, and future generations will work to make things more banal than we can even imagine today.

We have done this by eliminating danger. War, disease, starvation, drought… all of these are a pale shadow of their former selves, demoted from apocalyptic to manageable to thoroughly managed. At least in the modern world.

We live longer, better lives than any humans before us. That’s an achievement so massive that it is impossible to overstate. But it leaves us with an unmet need.

Nature makes a virtue of necessity, and we evolved in a very dangerous environment. The plains of the Serengeti have a plethora of highly skilled predators and fierce prey. So way back in the early days of homo sapiens, those genes that gave people a thirst for danger and risk were moderately selected for.

But only moderately. After all, too much of that and you stand a very low risk of surviving to breed offspring. But somehow, no amount of progress as a civilization can entirely snuff out that need for danger, excitement, and adventure.

This need is particularly out of place in modern dull society. But human needs never go unfulfilled for very long, even (or perhaps especially) the completely unconscious ones we can’t even recognize let consciously fulfill.

Thus, there is a conflict between the world how it is for the modern human living in a modern society and the world how we need it to be. Simply put, actual life is too boring for us. And yet we are civilized humans and therefore hardly about to actively introduce danger into our lives.

The modern human resolves this conflict via a layer of delusion about the world. We imagine the world to be more exciting and dangerous and above all more thrilling place than it really is, and that satiates this need. Our delusional structures are custom-fitted to be exactly as much danger as we need without said danger demanding we disrupt our safe, sane, modern lives.

This is the exact reason why people continue to believe that crime is on the rise despite the irrefutable fact that the exact opposite is true.

This is why people fixate on problems which are the most frightening and exciting instead of the ones most likely to actually impact their lives.

This is why all stories must contain conflict in order to be interesting.

And this is why the human mind has been invented spirits, demons, ghosts, goblins, vampires, and other imaginary dangers since the dawn of civilization.

We simply cannot face how boring life really is.

No two people’s delusional dangers will be exactly the same. For one person it might be belief in the supernatural. For another it might be believing that the country is going downhill and any day now, society will collapse. For yet another person, it might be getting a thrill out of reading true crime stories.

That’s the thing about the modern world. The media (and ourselves) generate content to fulfill this need and the catch is, it’s not entirely illusory. There is always that tiny infusion of fact to make it seem “real” without it being as boring as if it actually represented object reality.

The perfect exemplar for this is reality television. These shows pretend to represent reality, but everyone knows that they are either scripted or practically scripted. And why? Because the producers of the show know that reality is boring and that people want conflict and drama.

And they are certainly not going to leave that up to chance.

And yet, people buy into them. The hint of reality makes the almost entirely synthetic narrative more compelling. We know it doesn’t represent reality – but it sure does make the shows more “realistic”.

For the most part, these are harmless delusions. On a day to day basis, they do no harm and make people feel better in a way that helps society function.

But when you look at the larger picture, worrying possibilities appear. Belief in the Red Menace put the entire world at risk for decades. Belief in the prevalence of crime and terrorism leads people to surrender important rights in order to feel safe from illusory enemies. The Internet’s need for outrage ruins people’s lives every single day.

And all because we prefer world views which excite us over boring, mundane reality.

Don’t ask me for a solution, because I am not sure there is one. Slay one illusion, another will take its place. There will always be a market for danger in the shadows. There will always be a need for dangers that seem real enough to believe in, but only enough for the story to make our lives more exiting, not enough to be really REALLY real and hence demand immediate action.

That is why there is always a market for an apocalypse. Whether it’s spiritual, cultural, or environmental, people love to think that it is all going to end in their lifetimes. I mean, what could be more exciting than that?

But not like…. right now. Sometime soon, sure. Just not right now. Because we have things to do.

How do you solve a problem like that? We are certainly not about to introduce real danger into our lives just so that we can get our thrills. Instead, we forward stories of objectively terrible things to one another then wonder why.

The solution probably begins with acknowledging that everyone, from the most crazed adrenaline junkie all the way down to little old ladies playing mah-jong, need danger and risk, and most importantly, that this need can lead us to believe things that are just plain not true, and do things to protect ourselves from dangers that do not exist.

It’s okay to believe in ghosts. It’s not okay to spend all your money on anti-ghosting your house when you have a family to support. It’s really that simple.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.