Pleasure is one of those words which are devilishly difficult to define. I am sure that the early Fathers of the Church spent many fruitless hours in trying to delineate those factors which were of prime importance in the understanding of the concept of pleasure. They probably spent more hours in listing those sensual activities which were beyond the normal compass of those persons who were within the confines of acceptability in the ascetic confines of the limited world view of early Christians.
You have to ask yourself: how much pleasure could a person get living on the limited confines of a pillar in the desert? Surely not much. How, for example, did they get the electricity to the top of the pole?
There are (I have decided in an gloriously arbitrary manner) three levels of pleasure:
You have to ask yourself: how much pleasure could a person get living on the limited confines of a pillar in the desert? Surely not much. How, for example, did they get the electricity to the top of the pole?
There are (I have decided in an gloriously arbitrary manner) three levels of pleasure:
Firstly the sensual experience of the nature of the emotion
Secondly the intellectual nature of the experience
Thirdly the spiritual nature of the feeling.
The sensual is basically experienced when tasting really dark (75%+) chocolate for the first time. If you fail this level of acceptable experience then you are a poltroon of a lowly nature.
The intellectual is the understanding that the phrase in 'Bleak House' which describes Mr Voles the solicitor as someone who, “makes hay of the grass which is flesh” is of a quality which alone makes it worthwhile to study English Literature in University.
The spiritual is altogether more numinous: it is the understanding of all types of pleasure wrapped in the believe that pleasure is not an end in itself but a way to a higher understanding – and also the realisation that that is a load of garbage, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s the oxymoronic way of life which makes normal existence possible.
Secondly the intellectual nature of the experience
Thirdly the spiritual nature of the feeling.
The sensual is basically experienced when tasting really dark (75%+) chocolate for the first time. If you fail this level of acceptable experience then you are a poltroon of a lowly nature.
The intellectual is the understanding that the phrase in 'Bleak House' which describes Mr Voles the solicitor as someone who, “makes hay of the grass which is flesh” is of a quality which alone makes it worthwhile to study English Literature in University.
The spiritual is altogether more numinous: it is the understanding of all types of pleasure wrapped in the believe that pleasure is not an end in itself but a way to a higher understanding – and also the realisation that that is a load of garbage, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s the oxymoronic way of life which makes normal existence possible.
Alternatively it’s talking about a previous job and bad mouthing all the people who are in management. It works for me!
It’s drinking mid week knowing that you don’t have to work the next day.
It’s sitting down with a cup of coffee and a telephone and getting something done.
It’s leaving something to tomorrow knowing that you will have time to get it completed.
It’s buying a book and knowing that you will have time to settle down and get into it and enjoy it.
It’s knowing that tomorrow will be another day that you can format in a way which will be good for you.
It’s all those things and more.
This is an odd time of the year for me. At this stage in the educational calendar I would be collecting the year eleven mocks and worrying about how to mark them: trying to push myself to a marking frenzy to get them done before the Christmas holidays so that I could enjoy the holiday period without the horror of school work hanging over me. And now, this horror is no more. The marking is the concern of others and they are all welcome to that.
My concerns are more centred on the quality of the food in the Christmas meal and whether this year is the one when all the wine will be consumed by the family at the meal in the restaurant.
Roll on excess!
It’s drinking mid week knowing that you don’t have to work the next day.
It’s sitting down with a cup of coffee and a telephone and getting something done.
It’s leaving something to tomorrow knowing that you will have time to get it completed.
It’s buying a book and knowing that you will have time to settle down and get into it and enjoy it.
It’s knowing that tomorrow will be another day that you can format in a way which will be good for you.
It’s all those things and more.
This is an odd time of the year for me. At this stage in the educational calendar I would be collecting the year eleven mocks and worrying about how to mark them: trying to push myself to a marking frenzy to get them done before the Christmas holidays so that I could enjoy the holiday period without the horror of school work hanging over me. And now, this horror is no more. The marking is the concern of others and they are all welcome to that.
My concerns are more centred on the quality of the food in the Christmas meal and whether this year is the one when all the wine will be consumed by the family at the meal in the restaurant.
Roll on excess!
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