The Way of Absolute Candor

Vashti is a hotbed for the Romulan Rebirth movement.

But you're just gonna drop in and pick yourself up a nun.

O-Okay, well, now somebody has to tell me what we're talking about.

JL wants to hire an assassin.

They are not assassins, and you can't hire them.

The Qowat Milat have to choose you.

Romulan warrior nuns.

That's a real thing? How bizarre.

I know knew some Qowat Milat.

On Vashti alone, they helped Raffi and me relocate more than a quarter of a million refugees.

And they're the most skilled single-combat fighters that I have ever seen and the most feared enemies of the Tal Shiar.

Sounds like you already owe them more than they owe you.

What-what makes you think they're gonna help you now? 

They have their own criteria whether to give or withhold their assistance to a cause.

And what is that? 

Let's just say that I am confident that they will find ours 

Worthy, and if they don't, 

The Way of Absolute Candor 

means that They won't hesitate to tell us.

What's the Way of Absolute Candor? 

It's their Primary Teaching: Total Communication of Emotion without any filter between Thought and Word.

And it runs entirely counter to everything that The Romulans hold Dear.

We do what we can to maintain Peace.

Half the Sisters serve as qalankhan, free-blades patrolling Roads and Waterways, Helping Travellers, 

defending Romulan and Terran alike.

Do the Qowat Milat still bind their blades to A Singular Cause? 

If The Cause is judged Worthy.

Uh, no, Thank You, Elnor.

[ getting the brush-off, and being rejected once more by the former object of all his Hero Worshipping, the frustration, bitterness, sadness and rage expands in him and overflows, bursting forth like and exploding damn, and he rush to the dooTr and out of The Room, once more. ]

Elnor? 

You feel Shame, seeing Elnor.

I always imagined that you had found a Suitable Place for him.

So many things we imagined back then never came to be.

But it's not just Elnor.

It's everything here, The Poverty, 

The Degradation, The Ethnic Strife --

When I left here, there was none of this.

Because You Could Not Save Everyone, 

You Chose to Save No-One.

Yes.

I allowed The Perfect to become The Enemy of The Good.

You have not spoken of Your Purpose yet.

I infer that you have come to obtain the services of a qalankhkai.

Why? 

I am taking on the Tal Shiar, alone.

So Your Cause is A Desperate One.

It is to me.

Another Rescue? 

If I'm not too late.

You're not too late to Rescue Elnor.

He does not belong here.

Once the evacuation ended, we simply never found a Better Home for him.

He completed his training? 

Last spring.

So he really is a Qowat Milat? 

No.

And as A Man, he never can be.

But he is Open-Hearted, and apart from this display of the reticence you always seemed to inspire in him, forthright.

And his fighting skills are truly formidable.

And you would send him away? 

He might find himself in Serious Danger.

He Might Die.

He Will.

Before that comes to pass, it would gladden my heart to see him Live.

When you bind your sword to a cause, is there some kind of Protocol? 

A Ritual?

Do-do I go on my knees? 

Oh, I do hope not.

Between the two of us, my knees are not what they used to be.

You Tell A Story, I Listen.

Simple.

I had a Friend called Data.

(wearily resigned)

....it's usually A Sad Story.....

He Died.

He Gave His Life to Save Mine, 

and I have missed him ever since.

(Hope-filled and Brightening)

Did you ever miss me? 

Of course I did.

( He takes a moment - and becalms himself)

Continue.

Well, recently, I've learned that Data - 

This is complicated -

That Data had Two Offspring.

And one of them her name was "Dahj" was murdered in front of me.

The other one, I believe, is in serious danger.

And I have to find her before the Tal Shiar do.

- The Tal Shiar? - Yes.

And this other sister is she an android? Mm-hmm.

You told me stories about Data.

He had an orange cat named Spot.

That's right.

I've still never seen a cat.

Well, if you come with us, you might just run across one or two of them.

Why do you need me? Because I failed to protect her sister.

But you don't know where she is or if she's even alive.

- No.

- What about the man who built her? - It's just a guess.

- Are you being pursued? Likely.

Anticipated, actually.

All that is why you need someone.

Why do you need me? Because I'm an old man and you're a young one, and you're strong.

Zani told me that you are one of the best fighters that she has ever seen.

It seems to me that my quest has the appropriate criteria.

Will you come with me? Will you bind your sword to my quest? Now that you have use for me? Now that I have value to you? You left me - on my own, old man.

- I never meant to I see no reason not to do the same.

Elnor, it! Rios, it's Picard.

I'm ready for transport.

Copy that.

Next window opens in seven minutes.

You may call me Tenqem Adrev.

We met before.

Once.

Have we? Forgive me.

I, uh Oh, it was in another lifetime, when I was another man.

A Romulan senator, if you can believe it.

I had the honor of being present the day you addressed the Hall of State, the very embodiment of Starfleet, making such eloquent and generous promises on behalf of the magnanimous Federation.

The great Saint Picard.

Senator I found it extremely moving.

How very touched we all were.

There were tears in my eyes.

Thank you.

And then you went away.

And when you returned, you brought the ships.

Those great big Wallenberg-class transports.

We all packed and boarded the Nightingale, five generations of parents and grandparents, siblings and spouses and children.

And the Nightingale brought us here, to Vashti.

We had so little time.

There were so many of you to save.

And so little to be expected from Starfleet.

I did everything I could.

And then you gave up.

Skantal! Bidran! No one asked for your pity, Picard.

Just as no one asked for your help.

You and Starfleet had no understanding of Romulan ingenuity, resolve, self-sufficiency.

You took advantage of us at the very moment where we doubted ourselves, enticed us with your empty promises, and did everything in your power to scatter, confuse and divide us.

That is not so! I promise you You promise?! You promise? Give him your sword.

No.

Come on.

No! Please, my friend.

Choose to live.

I regret your choice.

Enough, Elnor.

The Federation has failed you all.

I failed you all.

I broke faith with you, and the result was terrible pain and loss for you all.

And I am sorry.

Picard, ready for transport.

A tan qalanq is no match for a disruptor, sisterboy.

JL? 

Yes! Now! 

* They beam up * 

That man did not deserve to die.

Yet he CHOSE it.

Fight a Qowat Milat, and the outcome is not in Doubt.

Now, you listen to me, carefully.

I will benefit by your skill and your courage, but if you bind yourself to my cause, I will tell you when to fight and when to refrain.

Is that understood? 

Yes.

Swear it.

I swear.

PICARD :

Dr.Jurati, Raffi, this is Elnor.

RAFFI :

A Boy with a Stick.

PICARD :

I have to ask you - 

What made you decide to bind yourself to My Cause? 

ELNOR :

It met the requirements for Worthiness.

And it seemed like You Needed Me after all.

Dr. JURATI :

What is the requirement for Worthiness? 

PICARD :

A qalankhkai would only bind herself - himself - to a Lost Cause.

The Game Theory of Life in The Village

" So we then move on you see to another possible response, not repentance, but that of resignation :

"I quit The Game, I won't play it." 

There are all sorts of ways of doing this but basically this is an aristocratic posture, 

"You ordinary mortals with all your Desires, and all your Involvements are deluded - You Get attached to Things.

But there are a certain minority of Us, Who are above it all. 

And since We've resigned, We're not going to follow This now. " 

This as I say is an artistocratic, [be aware]  that it may be aristocratic in two ways : 

There's the aristocracy of the Hindu Sannyasi the people outside and above caste 

and there's also the aristocracy of the actual aristocrat - I get so mixed up with my British and American pronunciation on this - but 

The Aristocrat who comes on with the position of always being bored, who has complete sangfroid, who is imperturbable 

Kaiser Ling's study of this mentality is marvellous in his book of Europe the essay on Hungary portrays the rightly he calls the grand signeur. 

He always identified himself as a type disrobe the grand familia cannot be saved,  who could always be always rise to the occasion under any social circumstances whatsoever, without trying to do so or without apparently trying to do so.

In other words if he goes to the Opera wearing blue jeans he will somehow make it apparent that everybody else is improperly dressed.

This is a very interesting type of person you know there was an essay written by someone whose name I can't remember in the Centennial Review which contrasted the Attitude to Time of the

aristocracy, the bourgeoisie and the proletariat; 

It said The Aristocrat lives in The Past because his ancient forbears have achieved everything and his very by the fact of his birth in his existence he has nothing to strive for and he somehow I never need overdo it - he's always cool.

The Bourgeois on the other hand feels that it's necessary to arrive 

and he's always striving for The Future

Whereas the aristocrat lives in  The Past, on the other hand, 
The Proletarian lives in The Present because he doesn't care about his reputation, and he just lives.

And so of the three bourgeois The Sucker 

because the formula is always cheated because, well, it's going to come someday, see, you're going to get it - even your money when you pull it out of your pocket,  there says on it 

"Promise to Pay" 

- watch out for that!

It's poverty and the bourgeoisie use the news on from the whole the whole economy is the United States being the great bourgeois country is in a state of expectancy of feeling happy, not on what you have but on what is going to come 

The Aristocrat is happy on what has happened, these great achievements of the past mean there's nothing left to do except sort of glory in it.

The Proletarian wants it right now, see and they often get it; 

About the poor bourgeois, my uncle once said 

The Poor have it given them 

The Rich have it anyway so 

The Middle Classes do without

So both the aristocrats and the sannyasi have resigned.

Now, the more interesting of the two types is Acosta Sonia who Resigns From The World Game, let me review for you the role of the sannyasin in Indian culture you know there are four castes because 

The Priests or Brahmins  

The Caste of Warriors and Rulers called Kshatriya  

The Caste of Merchants called Vasia  

and The Caste of Workers called Shudra 

And to belong to a caste means that you are in  the state called grihastha, which is 'Householder' that is to say you are One Who is Involved in The World, you are engaged in what is called loca Sandra and loca means The Well, Sandra, upholding, upholding the going on of The Great Illusion and so you are playing for money for position for status, for success and hoping above all that you could win - You can beat The Game.

But it's supposed in the same Culture that every Man who attains the age of 45 or so, who has now a grown son to take over his work, will quit the game, will resign and so, when you come to be at age you're supposed to move from the state of grihastha, 'Householder' to vanaprastha which means 'Forest Dweller'.

You Give Away All Your Possessions 

to Your Son, 

You Change Your Name, 

You Take off All Your Clothes and Go More or Less Naked, 

because you have  

Abandoned Status.

So in spite of the fact that he has no status, he is however respected in the culture for being an Upper Outcast, whereas The Aborigines of the Indian Peninsula are Untouchables, The Lower Outcast and The Upper Outcast always mimics The Lower.

For example Buddha had his disciple wear ochre robes, because ochre robes were worn by convicts. 

So in the same way if today, in San Quentin, they all wear blue jeans with special kind pants and a kind of a blue denim jacket and this could well become the uniform of a new kind of sannyasi in The Western World 

and to some extent this is happening.

So this guy says 

"The Game is Not Worth The Cap, 
The Richer I Get, The More Miserable I Get"

Mo' Money, Mo' Problems.

You know how this is, you think that your problems may be monitored and you get more money.

What do you do then we've got enough money, you start worrying about your health and you can never never stop worrying about that 

Or if you're not worried about your health you worry about politics, if somebody's going to take your money away from you, worried about taxes, about Who's Cheating You.

And so a person who goes through all that he's finally 

"I don't think The Game's worth it, 

I'm going to resign."

And so Resignation or Renunciation --

 

The difference from Repentance is that it hasn't got the same kind of passion in The Resolve, that 

 

The Repentant Person Feels He's Wrong,  

Who Made a Mistake, Has Committed Sin 

and  

Wants to Get Better 

 

about the renounce first didn't concerns of that country he knows that better progress whether moral or material is an illusion and you have to understand this when you approach for example the study of Buddhism I think one of the most withering remarks I ever heard, from an oriental, he was Japanese he said once he was 

"Never forget that whereas Jesus was the Son of a Carpenter, Buddha was the son of a King" 

You know Wow! Take that! 

And it's choose it is something always about about that this is not the this is easy to see which Christianity historically was the protest of the slave class again if the Roman, establishment Buddhism was different it was the abandonment of position by an aristocracy  - 

 

That 

'We've done it. We've seen it all we've had it so now we check out and We will be therefore we will resign from all games' 

 

and if you follow this attitude to an extreme you're going to make because it all goes to the centre the same discovery that is made by the person who follows repentance to an extreme.

Just as The Repentant Person discovers that his contrition is phony, The Person Who Tries to Resign 

Will Discover That He Can't, that  -

There is no way of not playing games 

Let's go a little bit then into this Game Theory there are a lot of games that we play and not only the game of 
Can I get One Up on The Universe,  of Pretending That I'm me This Ego, With Its

Name and Its Role, The Man, 

but also we have what I call meta-games, for example the game 

My Games Better Than Your Game,

or The Game 

"I Won't Play With You Because Your Game is Vulgar, Stupid, Banal, Inferior or Whatever." 

One of the most, therefore, effective games in saying My Game is Better Than Your Game is that 

I'm Not Playing Games At All.

You are now at the lowest level we find that in the form of :

You're Not Sincere, I am Sincere 

You are Fooling, I'm not Fooling You and Being Honest with You 

Now, that's a great game and of Resignation is a form of it as to say you are children claim with toys and you haven't ever really woken up to the important concerns of life you haven't reached the dimension of ultimate sincerity all, that is to say Ultimate Reality, and in order to reach it you have to 
Resign from Distractions 

You hear a great deal in the literature about meditation of getting rid of distractions wandering for well I you might ask when you think about all that what are wandering for what are wrong for what shouldn't I be doing with my mind, well they all say actually every day you think about this and then you think about that in your thoughts run on in an undisciplined way from one association to another and you can't keep your mind fully on the job or whatever so you see, you're supposed to announce that because -

 

That's True Reality, all those wandering thoughts they're not about the importance now, What's Important, What should you keep your mind on well, something just as long as you keep your mind on it.

In an instruction one of the Buddhist scriptures says about concentration, 

When they concentrate on a yellow square on the ground, on the burning tip of an incense stick, on your navel, on the tip of your nose on the, centre between the eyes, or anything.

And then the footnote The Commentator adds  

"But not on any wicked thing." 

As you know that commentators the world over, they never have any [sense of humour].

So anything will do just so long as you keep your mind on it, and don't wander, stick to it, so 

 Wandering is Involvement in Games,

by this kind of definition, so then you try to get out can you now get out can you stop competing with other human beings 

In ancient Greek society there was a place in the center of the community called the argon A-R-G-O-N and this was a place for contests where they had wrestling matches and other athletic events because all the men were constantly trying to show who was the better and from this were the agonyax which means these the contest itself held in the argon we get our word agony, the struggle and striving to be superior and a lot of people that you meet among you,  you will recognize this among your friends all the time are not happy unless they are involved in the contest it doesn't matter what it is, so long as they're trying to beat something they're  happy 

And you may say over everything 

“You know can't we just sit around and talk instead of having to play a game, or bet or do something to prove who's the stronger...?" 

I was married to a girl who never was happy unless she was engaged in some kind of combat, when of course I had a game, it didn't look like one,  and so it was a very superior game just because it didn't look like one,  but it was a form of the game, my games that renews so you can't really not-play, you may go through the motions of not playing, but you still are. 

SINCERITY

He closes the hood. Group moves across to other car.

JUDY and PLATO. The other kids are behind them. JUDY looks to see that their attention isn't on her, then speaks quietly to PLATO.

 JUDY

 Is he your friend?

 PLATO

 Yes. My Best Friend.

 JUDY

 What's he like?

 PLATO

 Oh, I don't know. 

You have to get to know him. 
He doesn't say much but when he does you know he means it. 

He's sincere.

JUDY

 Well, that's The Main Thing--

Don't you think so?

PLATO

 Maybe next summer he's going to take me hunting with him--and fishing. 
I want him to teach me how and I bet he won't get mad if I

 goof. 
His name's Jim. It's really James but he likes Jim more.

 (laughing)

 People he really likes--he lets call him "Jamie."

JUDY

 Want to finish my hamburger? I only took a bite.

 PLATO

 Okay.

Full shot. Guarded cars. 

JIM is close in f.g. at wheel of his car.BUZZ is beyond, at wheel of his. Both boys are gunning their engines, listening critically. JIM lets his idle.

JUDY, GOON and group. 

They watch in silent anticipation.

PLATO starts away from them.

Traveling shot. PLATO hurrying away from the group. 

He stops, looking off.

JIM and BUZZ. 

PLATO in distance.

 BUZZ

 Better try the doors. Jump out.

JIM opens his door.

BUZZ

 No--quick, man! You got to break quick.

JIM shuts his door and tries again. So does BUZZ. Then both boys walk forward to The Edge. Neither says a word.

BUZZ puts his hand on JIM's shoulder.

High angle. The edge of the bluff (process). JIM and BUZZ are directly below us. Under them the plateau falls steeply away in a sheer drop of a hundred feet to the ocean below.

Two shot. JIM and BUZZ. JIM is staring below. He is beginning to perspire. He lights a cigarette. Without taking his hand from JIM's shoulder, BUZZ borrows the cigarette from his lips, takes a drag and hands it back.

JIM takes another puff then tosses it into The Abyss.

 BUZZ

 (quietly)

 This is The Edge, boy. 
This is The End.

JIM

Yeah.

BUZZ

 I like you, you know?

JIM

 Buzz? What are we doing this for?

BUZZ 
(still quiet)

 We got to do something. 
Don't we?

David Foster Wallace - The Problem with Irony 

The next real literary “rebels” in this country might well emerge as some weird bunch of anti-rebels, born oglers who dare somehow to back away from ironic watching, who have the childish gall actually to endorse and instantiate single-entendre principles. Who treat of plain old untrendy human troubles and emotions in U.S. life with reverence and conviction. Who eschew self-consciousness and hip fatigue. These anti-rebels would be outdated, of course, before they even started. Dead on the page. Too sincere. Clearly repressed. Backward, quaint, naive, anachronistic. Maybe that’ll be the point. Maybe that’s why they’ll be the next real rebels. Real rebels, as far as I can see, risk disapproval. The old postmodern insurgents risked the gasp and squeal: shock, disgust, outrage, censorship, accusations of socialism, anarchism, nihilism. Today’s risks are different. The new rebels might be artists willing to risk the yawn, the rolled eyes, the cool smile, the nudged ribs, the parody of gifted ironists, the “Oh how banal”. To risk accusations of sentimentality, melodrama. Of overcredulity. Of softness. Of willingness to be suckered by a world of lurkers and starers who fear gaze and ridicule above imprisonment without law. Who knows.

This was further examined on the blog Fiction Advocate by Mike Moats:

The theory is this: Infinite Jest is Wallace’s attempt to both manifest and dramatize a revolutionary fiction style that he called for in his essay “E Unibus Pluram: Television and U.S. Fiction.” The style is one in which a new sincerity will overturn the ironic detachment that hollowed out contemporary fiction towards the end of the 20th century. Wallace was trying to write an antidote to the cynicism that had pervaded and saddened so much of American culture in his lifetime. He was trying to create an entertainment that would get us talking again.

"Cultural critics love hypothesizing about hipsters. And certainly hipsters make for useful lab rats if you're interested in the culture of young, gentrifying, trendy, affluent, and white college graduates. But it's easy to let this hypothesizing go too far, and you get into trouble when you try to charge hipsters with representing the "ethos of our age." They're just kids making their way from young adulthood to the rest of their lives.

Yet that's exactly what Princeton professor Christy Wampole does in her recent New York Times op-ed, titled "How to Live Without Irony." She tells us, with disconcerting certitude, that irony is the ethos of our era, and she knows because, I mean, just look at those hipsters with their ironic mustaches, record players, and trombones, right?

If hipsters aren't convincing enough, Wampole offers a second proof that we live in the "age of Deep Irony": advertisements. Not a specific advertisement, mind you, but, she writes, "an ad that calls itself an ad, makes fun of its own format, and attempts to lure its target market to laugh at and with it." You know, that one. That's irony, she says, and because she's raised the specter of an unidentified advertisement, along with the unidentified hipsters, we're supposed to believe that the overwhelming ethos of our time is irony.

But you can't determine the ethos of an entire age by looking at a sub-sub-sub-sub-culture."

“ What is The New Sincerity? 

Think of it as irony and sincerity combined like Voltron, to form a new movement of astonishing power. 

Or think of it as the absence of irony and sincerity, where less is (obviously) more. 

If those strain the brain, just think of Evel Knievel. Let’s be frank. 

There’s no way to appreciate Evel Knievel literally. 

Evel is the kind of man who defies even fiction, because the reality is too over the top. 

Here is a man in a red-white-and-blue leather jumpsuit, driving some kind of rocket car. 

A man who achieved fame and fortune jumping over things. 

Here is a real man who feels at home as Spidey on the cover of a comic book. 

Simply put, Evel Knievel boggles the mind. 

But by the same token, he isn’t to be taken ironically, either. 

The fact of the matter is that Evel is, in a word, awesome. ... 

Our greeting: 

A double thumbs-up. 

Our credo: 

“Be More Awesome”. 

Our lifestyle: 

“Maximum Fun”. 

Throw caution to the wind, friend, and live The New Sincerity.