Charles de Gaulle when asked by a journalist if ‘he was happy’ retorted “What do you take me for, an idiot?” For some people neighborliness is just plain irksome.
Do you really want to help people or just enjoy sitting in judgment of others? This is the dilemma of the virtuous. Nothing is more ensnaring than the temptation of knowing you are better than others for it is the key to power. The churches were meant to be full of sinners while the halls of authority are reserved for those without need of forgiveness. The secret to modern virtue is knowing that no one can forgive.
Dostoevsky’s insight in the story of the Grand Inquisitor was those who ruled by dint of “miracle, mystery and authority” ultimately governed through cynicism: by the right to keep secrets only they could bear. And the deepest secret of all was the world offered no redemption. That was the secret; there was “no there there”, just the illusion of one. And the illusion was the source of power.
And to justify themselves they martyred themselves to the secret, because ordinary flesh couldn’t handle the truth and see the cheesiness and guilt and racism of their simple neighborliness and kindness. Only the Grand Inquisitors could see how false it all was. But at least they had their superiority in recompense and for that voluntary joylessness they have blessed the rest of us with delusion.
We should be thankful to them and quit pestering them with cookies, ‘Merry Christmases’ and sickening cheer. Please no more please. As things stand it’s all that they can bear.