Hi everyone,

I'm writing an article on an absurdist approach to social work and wonder if any other social workers here would like to chat.

This approach doesn't appear to be well reflected in the literature but is worth considering for the field. It certainly flies in the face of expertise that holds on to objective and grand truths, so it's been a bit controversial with some of my colleagues.

in 'sideshow, and other stories' in the collection 'teatro grottesco', a character characterizes reality as show-business phenomena;

[...]

"‘All of the myths of mankind are nothing but show business,’ the other man said to me during our initial meeting. ‘Everything that we supposedly live by and supposedly die by – whether it’s religious scriptures or makeshift slogans – all of it is show business. The rise and fall of empires – show business. Science, philosophy, all of the disciplines under the sun, and even the sun itself, as well as all those other clumps of matter wobbling about in the blackness up there –’ he said to me, pointing out the window beside the coffee-shop booth in which we sat, ‘show business, show business, show business.’ ‘And what about dreams?’ I asked, thinking I might have hit upon an exception to his dogmatic view, or at least one that he would accept as such. ‘You mean the dreams of the sort we are having at this moment or the ones we have when we’re fortunate enough to sleep?’

[...]

"‘I make no claims for my writing, nor have any hopes for it as a means for escaping the grip of show business,’ he said. ‘Writing is simply another action I perform on cue. I order this terrible coffee because I’m in a second-rate coffee shop. I smoke another cigarette because my body tells me it’s time to do so. Likewise, I write because I’m prompted to write, nothing more.’"

[...]

‘My focus, or center of interest,’ he said, ‘has always been the wretched show business of my own life – an autobiographical wretchedness that is not even first-rate show business but more like a series of sideshows, senseless episodes without continuity or coherence except that which, by virtue of my being the ringmaster of this miserable circus of sideshows, I assign to it in the most bogus and show-businesslike fashion, which of course fails to maintain any genuine effect of continuity or coherence, inevitably so. But this, I’ve found, is the very essence of show business, all of which in fact is no more than sideshow business. The unexpected mutations, the sheer baselessness of beings, the volatility of things . . . By necessity we live in a world, a sideshow world, where everything is ultimately peculiar and ultimately ridiculous.’

replying to this latter paragraph, the other character asks The question that may be interpreted as at least problematizing, but also possibly fatally deflating the arguably absurdist 'show-business' approach;

"‘By what standard?’ I interjected before his words – which had arrived at the very heart of the crisis, quandary, and suffocating cul-de-sac of my existence as a writer of fiction – veered away. ‘I said by what standard,’ I repeated, ‘do you consider everything peculiar and ridiculous?’ After staring at me in a way that suggested he was not only considering my question, but was also evaluating me and my entire world, he replied: ‘By the standard of that unnameable, unknowable, and no doubt nonexistent order that is not show business.’ Without speaking another word he slid out of the corner booth, paid his check at the counter cash register, and walked out of the coffee shop. That was the last occasion on which I spoke with this gentleman and fellow writer."

this part engages me really intensely, as i had the exact same question in response to a philosopher's recent work (eric schwitzgebel's 'the weirdness of the world') and to absurdism after a few months of reflection after discovering it a few years ago, leading me to quietism instead of absurdism.

the question bluntly attacks seeking or expecting or anticipating (specific) meaning and/or explanation, and i imagine that the show-business character is actually bewildered & then annulled AF and maybe kills himself (this inference is partly due to the vibes of ligotti's worlds), but nevertheless never returns; either way, his instant exit and future absence can be interpreted as a thoroughgoing quietism after the question fucked his sensemaking activity & instead of that kind of sensemaking/seeking,

someone else bluntly called bullshit on his energy-intensive, mystified seeking. since FR, if one takes seriously philosophical considerations like the problem of induction, agrippa's trilemma, problem of criterion, known & unknown unknowns, uncertainty, then seeking at all with an expectation, or even worse, an expectation for particular, specific answers, simply becomes kinda not even wrong, like wtf are you even doing? what is this "standard of that unnameable, unknowable, and no doubt nonexistent order that is not show business"?

so what explains the presumed not-nonsensical intelligibility of trying to make sense via seeking? if such inquiry is always-already ill-posed, then the Really weird, "ultimately peculiar and ultimately ridiculous", Really absurd or whatever bombastic existential diagnoses are just nothingburgers. because why would they make sense sans being indexed to The existence of non-absurd, non-weird, non-peculiar, non-ridiculous 'Other Reality'? they wouldn't.

the show business man got called on his bullshit and the answer he provides is a confessional meta-realization (or confirmation of a lingering, but already existing hunch that he wasn't ready to entertain insofar as it was still only private) that voids him and his show-business schtick, making him switch his strategy to quietism, which is relevantly different from absurdism, as it doesn't grant the assumptions that are required for seeking and for absurd diagnoses to make sense, rendering the seeking always-already not making sense.

and you wouldn't do something that doesn't make sense, would you?

“Whenever I was asked what I wanted my first impulse was to answer “Nothing.” The thought went through my mind that it didn’t make any difference, that nothing was going to make me happy.””

“Virtue and vice are concepts invented by human beings, words for a morality which human beings arbitrarily devised.”

A large majority of the attention revived by absurdist writing is associated with Albert Camus, and rightfully so.

Over the last few months, I've been reading a lot of Philip K. Dick. From what I've read so far, his books are a sort of Frankenstein's Monster of Absurdist feelings mixed with the gonzo journalistic style of Hunter. S Thompson, and some Lovecraftian cyber horror sprinkled on top.

I think 'A Scanner Darkly' is an exemplary representation of the Absurd in Dick's writing. A narco cop getting hooked on drugs, having to spy on his undercover self while slowly slipping into madness. Nothing is sensible or logical. Shifting between something being true as well as untrue in the characters mind. The rational Fred vs the irrational Arctor. A tightrope walk between sanity and insanity, coupled with the drudgery of every day existence.

Once you believe you have found a crumb of rationale to hold on to, it is taken away from you the next chapter. This is such a great book to read. Not only for its absurdist atmosphere, but the visceral look into drug addiction. A lot of Philip K. Dick's books deal with constant uncertainty, of meaning and identity. For anyone looking for more absurdist fiction, I recommend PKD!

A quasar could destroy earth tomorrow and this shower pleasure is gone. Would an absurdist look forward to something like tomorrow morning's coffee when its 20 hours away?

Camus says amount of absurdity depends on the degree:

" If I see a man armed only with a sword attack a group of machine guns, I shall consider his act to be absurd. But it is so solely by virtue of the disproportion between his intention and the reality he will encounter, of the contradiction I notice between his true strength and the aim he has in view. Likewise we shall deem a verdict absurd when we contrast it with the verdict the facts apparently dictated. "

This makes me think, the absurdist thinks its its impossible to be rational, but we can wisely use nature to determine the likelyhood of plausible events and look forward to them.

However, this doesnt prepare anyone for when things like a hot shower disappear. War, health issues, family issues, etc...

Does an absurdist hope for a hot shower?

Do all absurdists have a mean-oriented personality? Can people who- because of personality- only find satisfaction or joy in achivement, also recognize the futility of assigning meaning to life? Or is that a goal-oriented person that is also absurdist will never find any joy at all? If you are goal-oriented absurdist, I'd love to hear your experience.

I see the absurdity in a tiny ant that, by accidentally drowning in a puddle of water, meets its end and ceases to exist. How do you cope with the absurdity of life? I don't feel different from that small ant; this existential anguish does not appeal to me, yet I believe it to be the truth.

ant drowning

I see everyone talk about the futility and lack of meaning part of the absurd, but no one talks about the uncertainty and lack of clarity part.

So, how would Camus face the probability that an evil demon is controlling all his thoughts and perceptions, thus making all knowledge except the cogito uncertain? How does revolt fit into this and is it even possible in this situation?

If everything is absurd, and I shall find the things in life that make me happy. What stops me from being a bad person if that brings me happiness. In other words where do morals and ethics collide with absurdism.

Hello. I only recently read Metamorphosis and the Trial and can’t help but feel there are some similarities between those works and some of Camus’ material.

In your opinion, do you see similar connections there or am I just seeing what I want to due to being a fan of absurdism? For the record, I felt somewhat similar about Notes from the Underground, though would stop before labeling it “absurdist”.

I only know English and found two english translations of the book both translated by Lloyd Alexander, one is introduced and revised by Richard Howard another by Hayden Carruth and is revised by Mrs. Violet Hammersley.

It's for personal read and self loathing rather than academic reasons so I'd prefer something closer to the original text, simplicity or modernity isn't a priority :)

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It's hard to understand as English is not my native language although I'm pretty good at it and I'm new to reading books other than textbooks as a whole. I started with want to know about Absurdism and ended up learning little bit about Kierkegaard, Sartre and Karl Jasper. I'm also googling new words that I don't hear from movies, songs or textbooks I learnt English from. But DAMN, it's worth the effort.

I've read this paragraph 4-5 times now because idk, it's good

Like great works, deep feelings always mean more than they are conscious of saying. The regularity of an impulse or a repulsion in a soul is encountered again in habits of doing or thinking, is reproduced in consequences of which the soul itself knows nothing. Great feelings take with them their own universe, splendid or abject. They light up with their passion an exclusive world in which they recognize their climate. There is a universe of jealousy, of ambition, of selfishness, or of generosity. A universe—in other words, a metaphysic and an attitude of mind. What is true of already specialized feelings will be even more so of emotions basically as indeterminate, simultaneously as vague and as "definite," as remote and as "present" as those furnished us by beauty or aroused by absurdity.

I don't even know if this post will be posted or not 'cuz this is a new account

When I was 17, I wrote about my theory of life. I said life is like a blank piece of paper—it has no meaning until you sketch, paint, and add color to it.

Sounds a bit pretentious coming from someone who wasn’t even old enough to apply for a driving license, right? Still, corny or not, it was what I believed.

Seven years later, I still don’t have a driving license, and I still don’t think there’s a god or any inherent meaning to life. The blank paper analogy still holds.

But there’s been a shift. Lately, I’ve been struggling with my blank paper. I’m no longer sure if the picture I’m painting is the one I want. If I’m the one creating the meaning for my life, wouldn’t I always be aware of how artificial it is?

It feels like an enormous responsibility to create all your values by yourself. To be fully committed to anything in life requires an unwavering belief that it’s worth the effort. But if you know there’s no inherent meaning to it—that your pursuit is arbitrary—existential dread creeps in. That thought has left me stuck in a bind.

One thing is clear to me: for a man to remain sane, he must care about something. He needs a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

But this is where the blank paper analogy begins to fail me. If it’s entirely up to me to decide what painting to create, how can I ever be sure I’ve chosen the right one?

Back then, I wrote that if there’s no inherent point to life, a logical option might be to quit the game altogether. But I argued against that, reasoning that if there’s no ultimate point, you might as well play the game and paint for the fun of it. Later, I learned this was similar to Albert Camus’s argument to "live without appeal."

But what happens when the awareness that nothing has meaning becomes overpowering? When it gets to a point where even the things you once enjoyed no longer bring satisfaction because—well—what’s the point?

I started thinking about how to cut myself off from this awareness, how to manage or suppress it. But that doesn’t seem like the right approach. Sooner or later, it resurfaces, and when it does, the disappointment feels even sharper.

The other day, I was discussing this dilemma with a friend. After an hour-long conversation, we landed on a conclusion that, for now, feels like a good answer: You don’t have to commit to a single meaning. Go out. Explore. See what you like. Experiment. If the meaning you choose turns out to be garbage, throw it out the window.

There’s no perfect life, no singular “right” answer. Obsessing over the meaning of life without actually living it is counterproductive.

Start small. Take a leap of faith. Decide on a meaning—not for the rest of your life, just for now.

Take it one day at a time. Imagine your perfect day. What are the elements that make it fulfilling? Pick those elements, engage with them, live them. If you can go to bed satisfied at the end of the day, you’re on the right track.

Of course, some days your experiment will fail. You might end up even sadder. Life will throw random curveballs at you. Things will spiral out of control. But the aim is to find meaning. The meaning is to find meaning.

If, at some point, you’re happy to settle on one meaning, so be it. Until then, keep exploring.

I don’t know if this framework is right or wrong—it’s just what I’ve chosen to believe in for now. It may or may not change in the future.

That is how I deal with the Absurd for now. This my theory of life.

https://youtu.be/kJiWTnvl10s?si=UYzchnIhYFx8LbyR

I love the way camus thinks and his brilliant take on happiness. The idea that he who succumbs to his own weight can never make himself or anyone else happy strikes like an arrow to my heart. One who dominates his life can lift others up. I hope more people understand his message.

Hi, here is a piece that I think might interest absurdist-minded people. Tell me what you think!

I heard a podcast explain Sisyphus as being willed by the gods to push the rock up the hill which got me thinking why he does it. If he has been given some intrinsic will to function as a rock mover than he would seem to be completely satisfied doing his will and never contemplate or need to find a meaning . He would be less of a human with complexities but more of an inert matter driven by forces (or in this case flesh bag with a will placed in him to function a certain way by the gods).

I came to find this answer doesn’t allow for the discussion on Sisyphus’s/man’s struggle to find meaning in an inherently meaningless world.

So what did keep him pushing the rock up the hill? Why didn’t he just stop? The answer I came to was punishment. If he stopped pushing the rock up the hill repeatedly he would be whipped, engulfed in flames or some other means to incentivize him to continue his rock moving duties.

This then led me down to think he would have a strong meaning in life to avoid punishment (or reduce his suffering in more Buddhist terms). He would master rock pushing to allow himself not to ever have to slow or stop his rock pushing and receive more suffering for his misbehavior. At a point he would find the necessary pace he needed to maintain to avoid punishment and goal would be to master this function. Assuming he is still human he would want to work as slowly and mindfully as possible to conserve energy and not gas out - which would cause more suffering.

At some point the pace of his work would be mastered and he may not need to spend much time thinking about the rock pushing (as a master musician can think clearly while reciting music) and that extra thinking space would inevitably allow him to ponder meaning again…

Couldn’t help but to compare this to my own individual experience of being grounded every time I got a C in school until the next report card showed Bs and As again. My purpose then was quickly changed from learning to avoid punishment as I struggled to keep up.

So I don’t really come to a conclusion but just wondered what y’all think drives him to push the rock. An imprisoned slave will likely not work for their enslavers out of spite if they are not punished to do so. Does he just do it for something to do? Does he have superhuman strength that allows him to always push the rock? Does he get the “runners high” from the exercise?

I’m about 75% the way through Camus’s Myth of Sisyphus and have not gotten to the part he talks about the myth yet so I am not in anyway versed on the subject (assuming at some point he does cover the myth that is..) also I don’t feel like my understanding is all that good of the parts I read either..

Existentialism as I understand it:
Life has no meaning, but you can find/craft your own meaning.

Absurdism as I understand it:
There is no meaning to be found, so there are 3 options:
- Leap of faith (religion)
- Escape from life
- Rebel

According to Camus, rebelling is the only right choice.

But here is my take on this:
Isn't rebelling against the meaninglesness still a form of meaning?
And if so, isn't Absurdism just a philosophical branch within Existentialism?

I have no criticism on absudrism nor existentialism, I am just curious to know whether I understand correctly, or have misunderstood something.

What book should i read first to get into absurdism ?

In existentialism, you need to create meaning in your own life. How do you do that?