Look around you - the man that goes by, the man that is presently beside you, the man that is hunkered on a newspaper with an airy hauteur of indifference, the man walking by and the man coming up - these and possibly the preponderance of those that survive amongst us are the over-reachers. To have a goal is to enact the human code, but to have more than simply a goal or be purposefully drawn into the complexity of constant desire, something that is so baseless that it separates itself from rationality and humanness, is to be playing the over-reacher. The psychology of an over-reacher is a stilted, perverted one. It cannot withstand the blame of personal dearth and hence, its morality is conducted on well-measured subterfuges. The over-reacher is a man of so nave an opinion of its own integrity or relative future, so hesitant of evaluating the personal, that it is simply engrossed with an accretion of options. That is, it respects and understands the value of open doors, thus desires more of the same, canceling the inevitability of the chaos that such mass advantage may beget. To be fortunate is fine, but rarely can a life be dependant only on luck, and thus be hoped to function. The analogy, though far-sighted and thus far-removed from the present terrain of interest, is affective in discerning that the over-reacher desires so vividly that the insanity presents to him as not only the solitary alternative, but also the surest path. He is so phenomenally besotted with ambition, that ambition in general, separates itself from the ideality of its own sense and demarcation and is translated to some obscene element of mere self-aggrandizement. Pivotally and essentially, the over-reacher is so concentrated a person, that through the density of the layers, it becomes odious to discern and unlock the individual beneath. There is such a hysteria and a similarly volatile play or masque of facets that it corrupts the sentimentality or the trueness of one's character, and leaves one in a perpetually distributed and unavoidable suspicion. It is the efflorescence of such an ideal that terminally reduces and still goes on further to eliminate with propriety all hope of any low or least advancement in one's moral engineering and evolution. It leaves a man redundant and coarse. When I talk of moral engineering, I do not propose a silly concept of sheer morality, but one of that core morality that engenders the commonest amongst the general. It is the certainty of note, the classifier and perhaps, also the catalyst, that enumerates the ordinary and also the automatic in sense and perception, and perhaps, allowance and reaction. An over-reacher, by sublimating the intensity of sense so fundamentally, attacks the fundamentals themselves, and renders them hollow, inane and unnecessary. It is somewhat ceding to bias when we pique the over-reacher with the stigma of being immoral, for though a man may be partial to a hobby, he may still preserve a stronger passion for his priorities. So a variant delineation can be allowed to those who follow the code of the over-reacher that they by default are categorized in order of a despicable merit - the primary one is of the fickle sort, who are arrantly unsure of what they desire exactly and yet they render much to the Frankenstein medium of desiring itself; such a sort are fecklessly dumb, moronic, idiots of a stylish order, and thus, insufferable. The second sort is of the proud, promulgating one, who, so immersed in the utter adventure of desiring or perhaps even the merest conception of a competent desire or the pompous magnitude of the adventure itself, are conceited and still, imbecilely so, are marked since infancy of a fate that spineless conceit too often conceives of. The third and haply, the most dangerous sort of specimen in the breed is of the true over-reacher - the one who employs wiles, designs, masks, and facets, who's so deeply graveled by the published success of another, whose individuality is either a parody or a prodigy, who reckons aught more consequential than personal conquest is the failure of another, who through conniving policies and stratagems of an uncanny nature contrives the threats that he imposes, and beneath layers and stratums of humility, subtlety and meekness, plots the wretchedness to embark upon all goals, not a singular one, to be so perfect in every aspect that every aspect be but a domesticated slave to his own liking. This is the disposition of the over-reacher, and it is easy to surmise that he cannot be marred with the hope or the optimism of happy conclusions, while his journeys shall markedly remain those of grandeur and positive inevitability. How can he succeed, who with one triumph is actually redeeming the loss of another, and instead of a progress of talent, embarks suggestively upon, merely an exchange? |
