Epilogue:
the end is the beginning
By Barlas F. Esin
On-line Forty-Niner
This
is the end, but I do not exactly know what
to say. Or, to put it more accurately, I
have so much more to say that I don’t know
where to start. It seems that yesterday
was when my first column was published,
though it has been almost a year now. In
my prologue, I stated, “It was my resentment
and my desire to read that caused me to
end up here, trying to write.” Indeed, after
32 columns and a dynamic process of mental
maturity, my resentment and desire to read
are still intact — and as powerful as ever.
Reading is also the root of my love for
writing.
I feel a certain sense of grief uttering
my final words. Having a regular column
was a personal challenge that I wanted to
overcome, and this process of overcoming
has been both demanding and pleasurable.
Nonetheless, it has been an invaluable experience,
trying “to move you the same way I was moved
— emotionally and intellectually.”
From day one, I recognized the method of
discourse for communicating my ideas, which
was simply to be “unsystematic” — meaning
that I was not going to praise one system
of thought over others. Being unsystematic
also meant that I was going to “write my
pieces in the light of prudence, presenting
both sides of an issue and only asserting
reflective, contemplative opinions.” I was,
furthermore, unsystematic because of the
wide range of topics covered in my columns,
from philosophy and science to society and
politics.
Despite my continuous refusal at first,
I ended up writing about politics — from
the controversial nature of war to the importance
of regime change in Iraq — because it concerned
everyone and generated a good deal of feedback.
I argued for social issues, as well, from
the effects of globalization on media to
the prevalent problem of racism. I contemplated
on the nature of physics, from the importance
of scientific enterprise to the controversy
surrounding the cloning technology. Sporadically,
I even minimized my opinions to the realm
of our campus, discussing lighter issues
ranging from the decadence of fraternities
to, yes, the girls of Cal State Long Beach.
Of course, I — as an aficionado of knowledge
— always stayed loyal to philosophy, employing
it as the framework to scrutinize the aforementioned
topics. In addition, I — from time to time
— focused strictly on philosophical themes,
though my audience for philosophy was scarce.
For example, I touched on metaphysics, from
the critique of religious belief to the
argument for the existence of God. In terms
of epistemology, I synthesized mutually
exclusive theories, from the dichotomy of
nature and nurture to the psychological
illusion and necessity of time. I even brought
forth ontological concepts, such as existentialism,
for elucidating the idea of existence (if
you would like to read my published columns,
please check out the Forty-Niner Web site
at www.csulb.edu/~d49er).
Despite my unsystematic ideas, however,
the fundamental subject matter of my columns
always remained the same; it was concerned
with one thing and one thing only — that
is, humanity. In the end, I hoped to be
a thinker of universals rather than particulars,
to be a radical philosopher that constructs
rather than deconstructs. I did not criticize
any doctrine, theory or, even, belief unless
I could engender an alternative interpretation.
My foremost task, nevertheless, was more
than interpretation; it was concerned with
changing the consciousness related to commonsense
clichés. As Karl Marx once said,
“Philosophers, throughout history, attempted
to merely interpret the world in different
ways. Yet, the task is to change it.” In
retrospect, I feel that I failed in achieving
my underlying agenda, but I, at least, succeeded
in raising my self-consciousness to the
level of global thought.
Surely, I have come a long way, but the
road to success has not been a solitary
struggle. I am grateful to so many incredible
people that it is impossible to mention
all of them. But, above all, I would like
to thank my readers for being part of this
journey, for being challenged by my abstract
notions and, occasionally, heavy terminology.
Your responses have helped to generate,
as I promised in my prologue, “healthy conversations
within the microcosm of our campus.”
I specifically thank my father for being
my best reader and critic. Also, I would
like to thank everyone in the newsroom —
more than ever, my editors Tina, Kimberly,
Rachelle and Michael — for putting faith
in my skills and unconditionally supporting
the “Unsystematic Ideas.” Last but not least,
I would like to express appreciation to
my friends — especially Onder, Yakar, Awet
and Daniel — for making life enjoyable in
the face of constant stress.
Even though these are my last words, I am
still writing with the same degree of passion
and enthusiasm as the first day. As a person
who has always glorified reason in my columns,
I finally realize the significance of emotions
for forming the human soul. I understand
that reason may be life advancing, but emotions
are of the essence. At the moment, my reasoning
skills are slowly blurring, and I can hardly
restrain tears from falling down my eyes.
As T.S. Elliot so rightly and fervently
puts it: “What we call the beginning is
often the end, and to make an end is to
make a beginning. We shall not cease from
exploration, and the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started and know
the place for the first time.” Therefore,
it is this eternally recurring point in
time that I must end an old beginning and
begin a new ending. With my head high but
spirits low, I bid farewell to the entire
campus community. Hopefully, we shall meet
again at a different medium of communication…
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