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3896Ch 48 Part Two Horse, Carriage and Driver

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  • capstealth
    Oct 10 2:15 AM

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-m004Ia7Lyc


      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKpOkZhYMac&t=8s


      CH 48 PART TWO:  HORSE, CARRIAGE AND DRIVER


      Chapter 48: From the author

      PART TWO

      Beelzebub's Tales
      to His Grandson


      CARRIAGE, HORSE AND DRIVER

      A man as a whole, with all
      his distinct and separately
      functioning localizations,
      that is to say, his independently
      formed and educated "personalities,"
      is almost exactly comparable to that
      equipage for transporting a passenger
      which consists of a carriage, a horse,
      and a coachman.

      It must be remarked, to begin
      with, that the difference between
      a real man and a pseudo man,
       that
      is, between a man who has his own
      "I" and one who has not, is
      indicated in this analogy by
      the passenger sitting in the
      carriage. In the first case,
      that of the real man, the
      passenger is the owner of
      the carriage, and in the
      second case, he is merely
      the first chance passer-by
      who, like the fare in a
      "hackney carriage," is
      continually changing.

      The body of a man, with
      all its motor-reflex manifestations,
      corresponds simply to the carriage
      itself, all the functionings and
      manifestations of feeling of a
      man correspond to the horse
      harnessed to the carriage
      and drawing it, the
      coachman sitting on
      the box and directing
      the horse corresponds
      to what in a man people
      usually call "consciousness"
      or "thought", and finally, the
      passenger sitting in the carriage
      and giving orders to the coachman
      is what is called "I."

      EDUCATION, THE
      FUNDAMENTAL EVIL

      The fundamental evil among
      contemporary people is that,
      owing to the rooted and widespread
      abnormal methods of education of
      the rising generation,
       this
      fourth personality, which
      should be present in
      everybody on reaching
      responsible age, is
      entirely lacking in
      them, and almost all
      of them consist only
      of three of the enumerated
      parts, which, moreover, are
      formed arbitrarily of themselves
      and anyhow. In other words, almost
      every contemporary man of
      responsible age consists
      of neither more nor less
      than a "hackney carriage,"
      and what is more, a broken-
      down carriage that has long
      ago seen its day, a crock of
      a horse, and on the box, a
      tatterdemalion, half-asleep,
      half-drunk coachman, whose
      time designated by Mother
      Nature for self-perfection
      passes in fantastic daydreams
      while he waits on a corner for
      any old chance passenger. The
      first one who happens along
      hires him and dismisses him
      just as he pleases, and not
      only him but also all the
      parts subordinate to 
      him.

      Pursuing this analogy between
      a typical contemporary man with
      his thoughts, feelings, and body,
      and a hackney carriage with its
      horse and coachman, we can
      clearly see that in each of
      the parts composing these two
      organizations there must have
      been formed and must exist its
      own separate needs, habits,
      tastes, and so on, proper
      to it alone because,
      according to the
      different nature
      of their origin
      and the diverse
      conditions of their
      formation, and also
      the varying possibilities
      put into them, there must
      inevitably have been formed
      in each of these parts its
      own psyche, its own
      notions, its own
      subjective supports,
      its own viewpoints,
      and so on.

      The whole sum of the
      manifestations of human
      thought, with all the
      inherencies proper to
      its functioning and
      with all its specific
      characteristics, corresponds
      in almost every respect to the
      essence and manifestations of
      a typical hired coachman.

      Like all hired coachmen in
      general, he is a certain type
      called "cabby." He is not entirely
      illiterate because, owing to the
      laws existing in his country for
      the "general compulsory teaching"
      of the three Rs, he was obliged
      in his childhood to put in an
      occasional appearance at what
      is called the "parish school."

      Although he himself is a
      country boy and has remained
      as ignorant as his fellow rustics,
      yet rubbing shoulders, thanks to
      his profession, with people of
      various positions and education
      and picking up from them, a bit
      here and a bit there, a lot of
      expressions for various
      notions, he has now
      come to look down
      with contempt upon
      everything smacking
      of the country, indignantly
      dismissing it all as 
      "ignorance."

      In short, this is a
      type to whom one could
      apply perfectly the adage:
      "Too good for the crows,
      but the peacocks won't
      have him."

      He considers himself competent
      even in questions of religion,
      politics, and sociology, with
      his equals he likes to argue,
      those whom he regards as his
      inferiors he likes to teach,
      with his superiors he is a
      servile flatterer, he stands
      before them, as is said, 
      "cap in hand."

      One of his greatest weaknesses
      is dangling after the neighborhood
      cooks and housemaids, but best of
      all he likes to put away a good
      square meal and to gulp down
      another glass or two, and
      then, fully satiated,
      drowsily to daydream.

      To gratify these weaknesses
      of his he regularly steals
      part of the money his
      employer gives him to
      buy fodder for the
      horse.

      Like every "cabby" he
      works only "under the
      lash," and if occasionally
      he does a job without being
      made to, it is always in the
      hope of a tip.

      The desire for tips has
      gradually taught him to
      detect certain weaknesses
      in the people he deals with
      and to take advantage of them,
      he has automatically learned to
      be cunning, to flatter, "to
      stroke people the right
      way," as they say, and
      in general, to lie.

      On every convenient occasion
      when he has a free moment, he
      slips into a saloon or a bar
      where, over a glass of beer,
      he daydreams for hours at a
      time, or talks with a type
      like himself, or just
      reads the paper.

      He tries to look imposing,
      wears a beard, and if he
      is thin, pads himself
      out to appear more
      important.

      As regards the feeling-
      localization in a man, the
      totality of its manifestations
      and the whole system of its
      functioning correspond
      perfectly to the horse
      of the "hackney
      carriage" in
      our analogy.

      Incidentally, this comparison
      of the horse with the composition
      of human feeling will help to show
      particularly clearly the error and
      one-sidedness of the contemporary
      education inflicted on the rising
      generation.

      The horse, owing to the negligence
      of those around it during its early
      years, and to its constant solitude,
      is as if locked up within itself,
      in other words, its "inner life"
      is driven inside and for
      external manifestations
      it has nothing but
      inertia.

      Thanks to the abnormal
      conditions around it, the
      horse has never received
      any special education
      but has been molded
      solely under the
      influence of
      constant
      thrashings
      and vile abuse.

      It has always been kept
      tied up, and for food,
      instead of oats and hay
      it has only been given
      straw, which is
      utterly worthless
      for its real needs.

      Never having seen in any
      of the manifestations toward
      it the least love or friendliness,
      the horse is now ready to surrender
      itself completely to anybody
      who gives it the slightest
      caress.

      In consequence of all this,
      the inclinations of the horse,
      thus deprived of all interests
      and aspirations, must inevitably
      concentrate on food, drink, and
      the automatic yearning for the
      opposite sex, hence it
      invariably veers in the
      direction where it can get
      any of these and if, for example,
      it catches sight of a place where
      even once or twice it gratified
      one of these needs, it waits
      for the chance to run off in
      that direction.

      It must be added that
      although the coachman
      has a very feeble
      understanding of
      his duties, he can
      nevertheless, even
      though only a little,
      think logically, and,
      remembering tomorrow,
      he does occasionally—-
      either from the fear of
      losing his job or the
      desire of receiving a
      reward—-show an
      interest in doing
      something or other
      for his employer
      without being
      forced to. But
      the horse, in the
      absence of a special
      education adapted to
      its nature, has not
      received at the proper
      time any data at all for
      manifesting the aspirations
      requisite for responsible
      existence, and of course
      it fails to understand—-
      indeed it cannot be
      expected to
      understand—-
      why it should
      do anything. It
      therefore carries
      out its obligations
      with complete indifference
      and only from fear of
      further beatings.

      As for the carriage, which
      in our analogy stands for
      the body considered
      separately from the
      other independently
      formed parts of the
      common presence of a
      man, its situation is
      even worse.

      This carriage, like most
      other carriages, is made
      out of various materials
      and, furthermore, is of a
      very complicated 
      construction.

      It was designed, as
      is evident to any sane-
      thinking man, to carry
      all kinds of loads,
      and not for the
      purpose for which
      it is used by
      contemporary
      people, that
      is, only to
      carry passengers.

      The chief cause of the many
      misunderstandings connected
      with it springs from the fact
      that those who invented the
      system of this carriage
      intended it for travel
      on byroads, and therefore
      certain inner details of
      its general construction
      were designed with this
      in view.

      For example, the principle of
      its greasing, which is one of
      the chief needs of an equipage
      made of such different materials,
      was so devised that the grease
      should spread over all the
      metal parts from the jolting
      inevitable on such roads,
      whereas now, this carriage,
      designed for traveling on
      byroads, is usually
      stationed on a rack
      in the city and travels
      on smooth, level, paved
      streets.

      In the absence of any
      shocks whatsoever while
      rolling along such roads,
      the greasing of all its parts
      does not take place uniformly,
      and consequently some of them
      are bound to rust and cease to
      perform the functions intended
      for them.

      A carriage goes easily, as a
      rule, if its moving parts are
      properly greased. With too little
      grease, these parts get overheated
      and finally red-hot, and thus the
      other parts get spoiled, however,
      if there is too much grease on
      some part, the general
      functioning of the
      carriage is impaired,
      and in either case it
      becomes more difficult
      for the horse to pull it.

      The contemporary coachman,
      our cabby, has no inkling
      of the need for greasing
      the carriage, and even if
      he does grease it, he does
      so without proper knowledge,
      only on hearsay, blindly
      following the directions
      of the first comer.

      So, when this carriage, now
      more or less adapted for travel
      on smooth roads, has for some
      reason or other to go along a
      byroad, something always
      happens to it either a
      nut gives way, or a bolt
      gets bent, or something or
      other gets loose, and so these
      expeditions rarely end without
      more or less considerable
      repairs.

      In any case, it has become
      more and more risky to use
      this carriage for its intended
      purpose. And once repairs are
      begun, you have to take the
      carriage all to pieces,
      examine all its parts
      one by one and, as is
      always done in such cases,
      "kerosene" them, clean them,
      and then put them together
      again, and frequently it
      becomes obvious that you
      have to change a part
      immediately and without
      fail. This is all very
      well if the part
      happens to be
      inexpensive, but
      it may turn out that
      the repair is more costly
      than a new carriage.

      And so, all that has been
      said about the separate parts
      of that vehicle which, taken
      as a whole, constitutes a
      "hackney carriage" is
      fully applicable to the
      general organization of
      the common presence of
      a man.

      In view of the lack
      among contemporary people
      of any knowledge or ability
      to prepare the rising
      generation for
      responsible
      existence in
      an appropriate
      way, by educating
      all the separate parts
      composing their common
      presence, every person
      of today is a confused
      and extremely ludicrous
      "something" which, again
      using our analogy, presents
      the following picture.

      A carriage of the latest
      model, just out of the
      factory, varnished by
      genuine German craftsmen
      from the town of Barmen,
      and harnessed to the
      kind of horse which
      in the region of
      Transcaucasia is
      called a "dglozidzi."

      "Dzi" is a horse, "dgloz"
      was the name of a certain
      Armenian expert in the art
      of buying and skinning
      utterly worthless
      horses.

      On the box of this stylish
      carriage sits an unshaven,
      unkempt, sleepy coachman,
      dressed in a shabby frock
      coat, which he has retrieved
      from the rubbish bin where it
      had been thrown out as useless
      by Maggie, the kitchenmaid. On
      his head reposes a brand-new 
      top hat, an exact replica of
      Rockefeller's, and in his
      buttonhole is displayed a
      giant chrysanthemum.

      Contemporary man inevitably
      presents such a ludicrous
      picture, because from the
      day of his arising these
      three parts formed in him—-
      which though of diverse origin
      and having properties of diverse
      quality should nevertheless, for
      pursuing a single aim during his
      responsible existence, represent
      together his "entire whole"—-begin,
      so to say, to "live" and to become
      fixed in their specific
      manifestations separately
      from one another, never
      having been trained to
      give the required
      automatic reciprocal
      support and help or
      to understand
      one another even
      approximately. Thus
      later, when there is
      a need for concerted
      manifestations, these
      concerted manifestations
      do not appear.

      EDUCATION

      To be sure, thanks to
      what is called the "system
      of education of the rising
      generation,"
       completely fixed
      at the present time in the life
      of man, and which consists simply
      and solely in drumming into the
      pupils, by means of constant
      repetition to the point of
      stupefaction, numerous
      almost empty words and
      expressions,
       and in
      training them to
      recognize merely
      by the difference
      in their sounds the
      reality these words
      and expressions are
      supposed to signify,
      the coachman is still
      able to explain after
      a fashion the various
      desires he feels (though
      only to types like himself),
      and he is sometimes even able,
      at least approximately, to
      understand others.

      This coachman-cabby of
      ours, gossiping with other
      coachmen while waiting for
      a fare, and sometimes, as
      is said, "flirting" in the
      doorways with
      the local maids,
      even picks up
      various forms
      of what is called
      "civility."

      In accordance with the
      external conditions of
      the life of coachmen in
      general, he also gradually
      automatizes himself to
      distinguish one street
      from another and, for
      instance, to calculate
      how, when a street is
      closed for repairs,
      to get to the required
      destination from
      another direction.

      But as for the horse,
      even though the maleficent
      contemporary invention called
      "education"
       does not extend to
      its formation, and in consequence
      its inherited possibilities are
      not atrophied, yet because of
      the fact that it has been
      formed under the abnormal
      conditions of the
      established process
      of ordinary existence,
      and that it grows up
      ignored by everybody,
      like an orphan, and
      moreover an ill-treated
      orphan, it neither acquires
      anything corresponding to the
      psyche of the coachman nor
      learns anything of what he
      knows, and hence it
      remains ignorant of
      the forms of
      reciprocal
      relationship
      which have become
      habitual for the coachman,
      and no contact is made 
      between them for 
      understanding 
      each other.

      It may happen, however, that
      in its locked-in life the horse
      comes to learn some form of
      relationship with the
      coachman and even,
      perhaps, is not
      unfamiliar with
      some sort of "language",
      but the trouble is that
      the coachman
      does not know
      this or even
      suspect that
      such a thing
      is possible.

      Apart from the
      fact that, in these
      abnormal conditions,
      no data have been formed
      between the horse and the
      coachman to allow them to
      understand each other
      automatically, even a
      little, there are many
      other outer causes,
      independent of them,
      which deprive them of
      the possibility of
      fulfilling together
      that single purpose
      for which they were
      both destined.

      Just as the separate
      independent parts of
      a "hackney carriage"
      are connected, namely,
      the carriage to the
      horse by the shafts
      and the horse to the
      coachman by the reins,
      so also are the separate
      parts of the general organization
      of a man connected with each other:
      the body is connected to the
      feeling-organization by the
      blood
      , and the feeling-
      organization with that
      of the thought or
      consciousness by
      what is called
      "hanbledzoïn,"
      namely, by that
      substance which
      arises in the common
      presence of a man from
      all intentionally made
      being-efforts.

      The deplorable system of
      education existing at the
      present time has led to the
      coachman's ceasing to have
      any effect whatever on his
      horse, at best he can
      arouse in its
      consciousness
      by means of the
      reins just three
      ideas—-right, left,
      and stop.

      Strictly speaking, he cannot
      always do even this, because
      the reins are generally made
      of materials that react to
      atmospheric phenomena for
      example, in a pouring rain
      they swell and lengthen,
      and in heat, the
      contrary, thus
      having a varying
      effect upon the
      horse's automatized
      sensitivity of 
      perception.

      The same thing proceeds in
      the general organization of
      the ordinary man whenever
      from some impression or
      other the "density and
      tempo of the hanbledzoïn"
      change in him so that his
      thinking loses all
      possibility of
      affecting his
      feeling-organization.

      And so, to sum up everything
      that has been said, we must
      willy-nilly acknowledge
      that every man should
      strive to have his own
      "I,"
       otherwise he will
      never represent anything
      more than a "hackney carriage"
      which any passing fare can sit
      in and dispose of just as he
      pleases.

      Gurdjieff

      continued in PART THREE