Faith need not be unreasoned. After a few years of living with someone and getting to know them intimately so you have a good understanding of their priorities, motivations, tastes, and weaknesses, and adapting yourself to these as appropriate and comfortable, it is quite possible to draw a reasoned conclusion that the probability of them leaving you is satisfactorily low. I.e., in the order of magnitude of being killed by lightning (in North America, not Africa): not zero but small enough to ignore.
A dog has a much simpler psychological makeup so it does not take as much time and effort to figure him out and accommodate his peculiarities. Once you've raised a puppy (of most breeds) the odds of him deciding to leave you even if you turn into an asshole are considerably lower than being struck by lightning in San Diego. And unfortunately many people test the asshole part of that hypothesis every day.
agreed. (largely
) though you still must acknowledge that, in a
sense, such convictions do require a leap of
faith--for we cannot empirically establish such things. where i would disagree with you is with respect to the "simpler psychological makeup." i call it "integrity"--sure, dogs play games, but when it comes down to business, dogs
never lie. a semantic quibble perhaps.
however, if we are to take (Q)'s suspicions as face value, we must conclude one of either two things:
1) (Q) has never actually known a dog, and this would effectively render his
opinions on the matter of no value.
2) (Q) is the ultimate skeptic, and can accept no such notions as "love" and "respect" without adequate "proof" of such. were one to live this in this fashion--for which "proof" (or even extreme probability) can not be rightly ascertained, one would be rendered impossible to act. i think we can safely assume that this is
probably not the case for (Q)
of course, this leaves us with no.1. (Q) has never known a dog. this strains credulity, but i suppose it is in fact possible.
This is no surprise if you reflect on the development of our own species. It's impossible for a nomadic hunter-gatherer (a human living before the Paradigm Shift into the Neolithic Era/Agricultural Revolution) to contemplate "possessing" anything that he can't carry--without the help of draft animals or wheels. People's possessions were rather standard and minimal: clothing, flint tools, a bag made out of an animal skin. The Paleolithic/Mesolithic "economy" did not generate a lot of surplus wealth (to put it mildly in a time when starvation was always a threat), so possessions in excess of the minimum necessary for survival were small and rare: a flute, a carved goddess, decorations on one's clothing, a beautiful little rock. And bear in mind that the pre-Neolithic humans lived exclusively by their pack-social instinct like the wolves they eventually experimented with joining: in an extended family unit of a couple of dozen people they had known, trusted and loved since birth. The idea of "owning" something exclusively and not sharing it with one's pack-mates would be foreign to these people. If your cousin wants to play your flute or pray to your wooden goddess, you let him, and when he's done with it you have no trouble figuring out where it is. Even if he's an asshole (and surely every family had its share of assholes then just as they do now), the elders would sort out the disagreements. If you whine enough Uncle Thork will carve you a new flute or goddess.
again, agreed. though i do not attribute this phenomenon solely to development: many contemporary anthropologists argue that nomads are NOT nomads by necessity (IOW, they would like to be sedentary, but they have not figured out the means to effect such a change in lifestyle), but rather they are nomads
by choice. their "god," for want of a better term, is movement itself. some may contest this, but to me it is quite intuitive, for it mimics my own inclinations and predispositions. sure, i "own" things, but for the most part--harmonium excepted--most of my "things" are but tools to me, and a burden at times. for much of my life, everything that i "own" could either be fitted into a decent sized backpack or into the back of a bicycle trailer--along with my dog, of course.
It's only in our post-industrial economy, several Paradigm shifts out of the Mesolithic, when for the first time in history 99% of the human race is not "employed" in the food production and distribution industry, that there is enough surplus productivity, to generate enough surplus wealth, for us all to have houses stuffed full of things we "own."The Tarahumara live in Chihuahua, the state directly east of Sonora that is contiguous with New Mexico and part of the Texas Panhandle.I'd like to know what anthropologists who have studied these people have learned of their notions about their relationship with dogs. Do they regard them as pack-mates? Second-class pack-mates? Visitors from another tribe? Foolish livestock? Or do they have a special concept carved out for them, as the animals who voluntarily, cooperatively and harmoniously live among them? Of course after living on the periphery of civilization for several centuries Tarahumara culture has been contaminated and many of them now live in cabins and probably have iPods.
chihuahua, thank you--it's been years since i've been there. and you are correct in that they have been "contaminated" by western mores and "things."
i haven't found much anthropological work with respect to the tarahumara specifically, but there is an abundance of literature on aboriginal australians. of course, are we to
trust the claims of anthropologists? the ones i know, who have lived amongst a group in alice springs on and off for over thirty years (david turner, deborah bird rose, and tony swain) contest that they regard dingoes as they do each other; in fact, they might possibly have an even
higher regard for them. d.b. rose, in
dingo made us human writes that creation myths, in the dreamtime, hold that dingo and man were once one and the same--but by action of the
dingo, we were separated.
incidentally, i strongly recommend rose's
dingo made us human and tony swain's
a place for strangers: towards an ontology of australian aboriginal being. i cannot recommend turner's texts, because frankly he copped some of my ideas (some heideggerian nonsense) and did not give me due credit (you know, 'cuz i "own" my ideas). still, you--being a musician--might find his work fascinating nonetheless as he explores the import of song in shaping aboriginal being.
edit: apologies for typos (no, not the capitals!)--i'm in a rush and shall amend later.
