Today, so far at least, two very weird things have happened that I think are worthy of some commentary, as I can’t seem to make very much sense of them right now, and what they mean in the larger context of how people view me. So, as is common when I am puzzling about something, I will write about it and seek to understand it by pondering and musing about it and beg the indulgence of my readers in putting up with what may appear to be rambling and inconsequential matters.

Today, for the first time I can remember in my entire life, I witnessed a rant about weeny guys where I was being held up as a model of bravery and a sense of adventure. As I have commented before [1], I don’t consider myself a particularly brave person. I suppose that a more fair and less biased judge (and a far less harsh judge of me than I am to myself) might be able to find some examples of moral courage, and maybe even a few episodes of physical courage, but I don’t feel brave. What made the indirect praise of my own bravery and sense of adventure a bit awkward was the context, including some comments about young women not liking philosophers very much. I declined to participate in the rant myself.

It is hard for any of us to have a good absolute standard when it comes to our own attractiveness to others. Whether it is with regards to superficial matters like looks, or in terms of our qualities, it is hard to judge fairly. All too often we judge our worthiness by how others have (or have not) found us worthy, which is a very unstable foundation on which to rest one’s confidence and self-esteem. But it is also a very hollow achievement to know one is worthy of honor and love and respect and not to receive it. It is the possession of such intangibles that is so enjoyable, not merely the knowledge of one’s worthiness for it.

What makes someone a person of courage? Many people possess great strength of intellect or body which they use to bully and oppress and manipulate and take advantage of others. This is not praiseworthy. And let us not forget, courage is not foolhardy recklessness, but rather it is a certain triumph over fear that leaves the rational facilities intact and allows us to be decent human beings capable of doing difficult but worthy tasks in dangerous times and situations. Perhaps it is our own lack of acquaintance with genuine courage that makes most appreciation of courage so rare for us. We can recognize genuine courage if it is large enough and daring enough, but we often miss small everyday acts of courage that help build up someone’s moral character to make the large stands.

Another odd thing that happened today that is not entirely unrelated is that a Romanian author of a book about Germany’s own unpaid debts to foreign banks in peripheral European countries sent me an unsolicited part of his translated manuscript asking for my help in finding him a publisher. As an author with a prolific writing habit but rather poor connections with publishers myself (this blog alone contains substantial parts of several books in search of an agent and publisher, to say nothing of other manuscripts of mine), I am flattered that the quality of my writing would be considered worthy of publishing and that that I would be someone capable of helping a fellow writer about global affairs.

Not willing either to ignore the e-mail nor to send a rejection to such a sincere effort, I sent him a reasonably short but friendly reply and told him that I would read his book (it would merit a blog entry at the very least) and if I liked it as much as I thought I would, I would send it to some writers I know who are greatly interested in the implications of the European debt crisis. It was the best that I could do under the circumstances, but it was both a humbling and a surprising thing for me to be considered as an expert in terms of the world of publishing. May it be that I am much more successful in the future, but I will need much better networking connections for that, considering as my interest in publishing far exceeds my modest knowledge and almost nonexistent experience with the publishing business itself, aside from mostly unsuccessful experiences in self-publishing. Perhaps someday things will improve though. In the meantime, I hone my craft.

[1] https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2012/06/23/somewhere-to-run-somewhere-to-hide/