As a philosophy major I strive not to have any vices nor obsessive tendencies for the betterment of my existence.
But during my first year in college I was introduced to a couple in my psychology 105 class that has taught me to be aware of my social behaviors, prevent the roots of my frustrations from entrenching themselves deeper in soil of my mind, but more importantly, combat and control my addictions.
As far as the traditional sense applies Id and Ego breaks all preconceived notions of a couple because they are neither human nor living; they are conceptual. For the sake of coherency I will anthropomorphize them in hopes of making what transpired appear more lucid.
For as long as I can remember Id, the figurative male half of the relationship, and Ego, the overbearing motherly type, have been constantly at odds with one another. It amazes me that, for my sake, they've stayed together for so long. No two "people" could be more dissimilar. Id most closely resembles the kid you went to high school with who rarely bathed and habitually wore moth-eaten band T-shirts. A regular Jeff Spicoli. Ego, on the other hand, most closely resembles the dictatorial mother. The anal type who, at all times, needs to know where their child is, what they're doing and why. To put it frankly, Id is too irresponsible to be entrusted with the life of any living thing (including invertebrates) and Ego is so stuffy that she can't relax enough to have fun. For further clarification go to www.psych.nwu.edu/~coriat/theories.htm.
Several weeks ago I was out for drinks with both Id and Ego and, as usual, the night started off under the atmosphere of an approaching thunderstorm. Fortunately, Ego started to loosen up after several drinks and Id became more confident and defiant in the face of authority. The usual subjects came up during our conversation: art, music, how to live a fulfilling life, etc.
"Addictions and vices," I said, "show signs of weakness. I can't afford to waste my time on such things."
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"Ha!" laughed Id, nearly spitting up his drink.
"What?" I asked.
"I wanted to tell you this a long time ago, but she," his fingered pointed towards his life partner, "wouldn't let me."
"He didn't need to know," said Ego. "We can't tell him everything. It would be too damaging."
"Vices," continued Id, "and compulsive activities are a positive outlet".
"As long as I maintain what's an acceptable level of indulgence."
"What in the world are you talking about?" I asked.
Id proceeded to tell me that occasionally, when people are suffering, Id and Ego often go in, work together, and provide people with a manageable vice.
"But I pride myself on not having any vices," I said smugly.
"Everybody has a vice," chuckled Ego.
The evening ended soon after that and I went home to contemplate on the following conundrum: do all vices have inherently detrimental effects? Could Id and Ego have been right? Can vices be a healthy outlet? What if (gasp!) I have more than one?
After heavy meditation a la Descartes, I realized that not only do I have a vice, but I have many- I am the pawn of knowledge, I am a slave to exercise, I overindulge in literature and neglect my friends and family, but the most powerful of all my vices, the most dangerous, I am a movie-holic.
But what is a vice? According to www.dictionary.com, a vice is a "defect; a fault; an error; a blemish," or "an imperfection" usually taking the form of "[a]n undesirable habit." While no rational person will contest that one can be perfect, why, if a vice really is a pseudonym for flaw, did I believe that I could live without them?
So how did I overcome my despair? I used my vices to my advantage. After not being able to satisfy my insatiable desire to always do something, I stumbled across the Nietzschian concept of the Ubermensch, or, the Superman. Briefly, the Ubermensch is a new breed of man - a superior being. Well, after wrapping my brain around this concept I had an epiphany: if the Ubermensch were confronted with the reality of having to have flaws, would not the stronger elect his flaws? Would he not choose where he was weak rather than having his weaknesses allotted to him?
After that night this is what I claim to have done. Who cares if my vices existed before I recognized them? Who cares if they existed prior to my knowledge of the Ubermensch? If Id and Ego gave me a vice as they say, because they are two-thirds of my psyche, I, unwittingly, chose my own vices. And my defense mechanisms operate strongly enough that I can easily convince myself that everything I've said is true because that's exactly what I want to believe.
Nowadays, I have no problem sitting down with a bag of chips, a bowl of guacamole and four DVDs and purging myself on cinema. And how do I justify this? Because by perpetuating my flawed behavior, I continually remind myself that I was strong enough to chose how I would err.
Perhaps I can be a candidate in the next Ubermensch campaign.
by Eric Howerton
Daily Lobo Columnist
