Oppression

I do not believe in the value of the unique. I do not believe in the value of diversity for its own sake. I have, at times, made statements in support of globalization (I support aspects of it, in principle) and in preference for the sameness of all things. But all things should only be uniform when they can be uniformly good and it is the constant failure of the world to achieve anything good that oppresses me. I am oppressed with the choice between bad and worse, between ugly and obscene, between the foul and nauseating.

I am oppressed by this as all of us are oppressed by this.

I want neither a world full of senseless decadent choice nor a world of bland and constant cheapness. I want an orderly world and a clean world. I want good.

There is such a condition, an ailment for lack of a better word, called Stendhal's Syndrome in which people become faint when exposed to too much beauty. I have the opposite. I have my own syndrome, a condition in which I am surrounded by so much filth that I pass unconscious from nausea. Everything is so far from tolerable that I want to spend the entire day in a brick box. I have nothing against bricks.