Self Scrutiny Quotes

I'm convinced that most men don't know what they believe, rather, they only know what they wish to believe. How many people blame God for man's atrocities, but wouldn't dream of imprisoning a mother for her son's crime?

His skin was a pretty colour, it made me jealous. Jacob noticed my scrutiny. What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Nothing. I just hadn't realised before. Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?" Once the words slipped out, I worried that he might take my implusive observation the wrong way. But Jacob rolled his eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you?" "I'm serious." Well, then, thanks. Sort of." I grinned. "You're sort of welcome.

What woman here is so enamored of her own oppression that she cannot see her heelprint upon another woman's face? What woman's terms of oppression have become precious and necessary to her as a ticket into the fold of the righteous, away from the cold winds of self-scrutiny?

A moment or two of serious self-scrutiny, and you might observe that you no more decide the next thought you think than the next thought I write.

Those only are happy (I thought) who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness; on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way. The enjoyments of life (such was now my theory) are sufficient to make it a pleasant thing, when they are taken en passant, without being made a principal object. Once make them so, and they are immediately felt to be insufficient. They will not bear a scrutinizing examination. Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so. The only chance is to treat, not happiness, but some end external to it, as the purpose of life. Let your self-consciousness, your scrutiny, your self-interrogation, exhaust themselves on that; and if otherwise fortunately circumstanced you will inhale happiness with the air you breathe, without dwelling on it or thinking about it, without either forestalling it in imagination, or putting it to flight by fatal questioning.

There are many hypotheses in science that are wrong. That's perfectly alright; it's the aperture to finding out what's right. Science is a self-correcting process. To be accepted, new ideas must survive the most rigorous standards of evidence and scrutiny.

There are moments when the inner life actually 'pays,' when years of self-scrutiny, conducted for no ulterior motive, are suddenly of practical use.

Any belief worth embracing will stand up to the litmus test of scrutiny. If we have to qualify, rationalize, make exceptions for, or turn a blind eye to maintain a belief, then it may well be time to release that belief.

One of the Christian's biggest fears is appearing 'too Christian'. God forbid, because that's often characterized as god-awful! We want to be one, but without being 'one of them'.

Knowledge means rising above immediacy, beyond self, into the foreign and distant. The object of such knowledge is inherently vulnerable to scrutiny; the object is a ‘fact’ which, if it develops, changes, or otherwise transforms itself in the way that civilizations frequently do, nevertheless is fundamentally, even ontologically stable. To have such knowledge of such a thing is to dominate it, to have authority over it.

Writers live with fear. Some writers cannot deal with the fear, and so they quit or refuse to publish. In order to write, you must either ignore the fear or trick it into leaving you alone. The fear is very sly, though and hard to trick. The fear in writing comes from exposing your thoughts, your emotions, your experiences, your ideas, your talent, your intelligence and ultimately your self to public scrutiny and possible scorn. The fear is by no means groundless. You have opened yourself up to the possibility of public humiliations...I sometimes wonder if perhaps the greatest novel ever written isn't gathering dust in some filing cabinet somewhere, simply because its author could not overcome the fear of having it published.

Jacob really did look older than sixteen--not quite forty, but maybe older than me. Quil didn't have too much on him in the muscle department, for all that Jacob claimed to be a skeleton. The muscles were the long wiry kind, but they were definitely there under the smooth skin. His skin was such a pretty color, it made me jealous. Jacob noticed my scrutiny. "What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Nothing. I just hadn't realized before. Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?" Once the words slipped out, I worried that he might take my impulsive observation the wrong way. But Jacob just rolled his eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you?" "I'm serious." "Well, then, thanks. Sort of." I grinned. "You're sort of welcome.

Perhaps it is the case that no organization or hierarchy can withstand the closest of scrutiny. Not even a smugly self-touted meritocracy. The success and persistence of utter fools everywhere is sad testament to that.

Each of us is called upon to take a stand. So in these days ahead, as we examine ourselves and each other, our works, our fears, our differences, our sisterhood and survivals, I urge you to tackle what is most difficult for us all, self-scrutiny of our complacencies, the idea that since each of us believes she is on the side of right, she need not examine her position.

Shame-bound people honor their thoughts more than their instincts, especially the internal voices that constantly tell them how worthless and inferior they are. Spontaneity is limited by internal scrutiny, which binds and disempowers the will.

Achieving the good life is more a matter of being than of doing or giving. It calls for intense self-scrutiny, a relentless honesty about one's motives, and a persistent feeling that we are no better—and perhaps worse—than those we are trying to help.

...the intellectual is a person who nurtures, preserves and propagates independent judgment, a person loyal exclusively to truth, a courageous and wrathful individual for whom no force of this world is too great or too frightening not to be subjected to scrutiny and called to account. ... A true intellectual, a genuine one, is always an outsider, …he is a person who lives in self-imposed exile on the margins of society.

But how could self-proclaimed “anti-racists” and their supporters be as confused as I’ve made them out to be? And why do so many people continue to be fooled by the “anti-racist” label? The answer: theirs is the latest brand of bigotry to gain social approval in America, and that social approval acts as a buffer that insulates their views from scrutiny.

There are moments when the inner life actually “pays,” when years of self-scrutiny, conducted for no ulterior motive, are suddenly of practical use.  Such moments are still rare in the West; that they come at all promises a fairer future.

As mankind 'matures,' as it becomes more possible to be frank in the scrutiny of the self and others and in the publication of one's findings, biography and autobiography will take the place of fiction for the investigation and discussion of character.

The epitome of our life force turns on the seam where our tempered idealistic expectations meet the annealed exigencies fueling the cataclysm of a pressing personal crisis. Many of us do not decipher who we are and what we truly cherish until we experience the terror of an inconsolable loss. Failure and suffering lead to self-scrutiny.

Do we not use each other to slip across the frontiers of self-scrutiny as something other than lonely people?

My mother's scrutiny was a burden. But this other way of looking, this besottedness, was just as damning. My mother expected great things and constant improvement. He seemed to believe in a perfection that existed apart from my actual self.

Philosophy’s purpose is to illuminate the ways our soul has been infected by unsound beliefs, untrained tumultuous desires, and dubious life choices and preferences that are unworthy of us. Self-scrutiny applied with kindness is the main antidote.

Most such criticism and confrontation, usually made impulsively in anger or annoyance, does more to increase the amount of confusion in the world than the amount of enlightenment. For the truly loving person the act of criticism or confrontation does not come easily; to such a person it is evident that the act has great potential for arrogance. To confront one’s beloved is to assume a position of moral or intellectual superiority over the loved one, at least so far as the issue at hand is concerned. Yet genuine love recognizes and respects the unique individuality and separate identity of the other person. (I will say more about this later.) The truly loving person, valuing the uniqueness and differentness of his or her beloved, will be reluctant indeed to assume, “I am right, you are wrong; I know better than you what is good for you.” But the reality of life is such that at times one person does know better than the other what is good for the other, and in actuality is in a position of superior knowledge or wisdom in regard to the matter at hand. Under these circumstances the wiser of the two does in fact have an obligation to confront the other with the problem. The loving person, therefore, is frequently in a dilemma, caught between a loving respect for the beloved’s own path in life and a responsibility to exercise loving leadership when the beloved appears to need such leadership. The dilemma can be resolved only by painstaking self-scrutiny, in which the lover examines stringently the worth of his or her “wisdom” and the motives behind this need to assume leadership. “Do I really see things clearly or am I operating on murky assumptions? Do I really understand my beloved? Could it not be that the path my beloved is taking is wise and that my perception of it as unwise is the result of limited vision on my part? Am I being self-serving in believing that my beloved needs redirection?” These are questions that those who truly love must continually ask themselves. This self-scrutiny, as objective as possible, is the essence of humility or meekness. In the words of an anonymous fourteenth-century British monk and spiritual teacher, “Meekness in itself is nothing else than a true knowing and feeling of

So this was Richard’s brother. Every line of him spoke, palimpsest-wise, with two voices. The clothes, black and rich, were vaguely slovenly; the skin sun-glazed and cracked; the fine eyes slackly lidded; the mouth insolent and self-indulgent. He returned the scrutiny without rancour.

In this sense, yes, we are moral; we have, at least, the technical capacity for leading a truly examined life; we have self-awareness, memory, foresight, and judgment. But the last several decades of evolutionary thought lead one to emphasize the word technical. Chronically subjecting ourselves to a true and bracing moral scrutiny, and adjusting our behavior accordingly, is not something we are designed for. We are potentially moral animals—which is more than any other animal can say—but we aren’t naturally moral animals. To be moral animals, we must realize how thoroughly we aren’t.

As children, we tolerate working conditions that we'd find intolerable as adults: the constant exposure of our attainment to a hostile audience; the motivation by threat instead of encouragement (and big threats, too: if you don't do this, you'll ruin your whole future life . . .); the social world in which you're mocked and teased, your most embarrassing desires exposed, your new-formed body held up for the kind of scrutiny that would destroy an adult. Often, during childhood, this comes with physical threats, too—being pushed and shoved on the playground, punched and kicked. The eternal menace that something more savage is waiting around the corner on your way home. Imagine how that would feel to you as an adult: that perpetual threat to your bodily integrity and your mental wellbeing. We would never stand for it, but we did as children because it was expected of us and we didn't know any better.

Have your thoughts and feelings been unexplainably negative? Have you been distancing yourself from the people you love? Has every problem seemed impossible to solve? Has your self-confidence been replaced by self-hate and self-scrutiny? Have you convinced yourself that you’re nothing but a failure and that the world would be better off without you?

The self that does not survive scrutiny is the subject of experience in each present moment — the feeling of being a thinker of thoughts inside one’s head, the sense of being an owner or inhabitant of a physical body, which this false self seems to appropriate as a kind of vehicle. Even if you don’t believe such a homunculus exists — perhaps because you believe, on the basis of science, that you are identical to your body and brain rather than a ghostly resident therein — you almost certainly feel like an internal self in almost every waking moment. And yet, however one looks for it, this self is nowhere to be found. It cannot be seen amid the particulars of experience, and it cannot be seen when experience itself is viewed as a totality. However, its absence can be found — and when it is, the feeling of being a self disappears.

There is a myth about such highs," Sagan wrote; "the user has an illusion of great insight, but it does not survive scrutiny in the morning. I am convinced that this is an error, and that the devastating insights achieved while high are real insights; the main problem is putting these insights in a form acceptable to the quite different self that we are when we're down the next day...If I find in the morning a message from myself the night before informing me that there is a world around us which we barely sense, or that we can become one with the universe, or even that certain politicians are desperately frightened men, I may tend to disbeliev; but when I'm high I know about this disbelief. And so I have a tape in which I exhort myself to take such remarks seriously. I say, "Listen closely, you sonofabitch of the morning! This stuff is real!" -Carl Sagan

Whatever there is about human identity that can be objectively known, measured, predicted, observed, whether by the Myers-Briggs, the Enneagram, the tax man, or the omniscient squint of your most insightful aunt, there is a foundational core of what we might as well call identity that remains hidden from scrutiny’s grip and somehow utterly caught up in God, “in whom we live and move and have our being,” in whom our very self is immersed.

Beauty is a construct, but theory is not the reality we live, she thought. Theory didn’t live in the bones. Theory didn’t erase the years of self-scrutiny in a mirror and not seeing anyone at all, not a protagonist or a beauty, only a television sidekick, a speechless creature, who at best was “exotic,” desirable but simple and foreign. Growing up, she had often wondered, If only I had bigger eyes or brown hair instead of black. If only...

According to the prevailing notion, to be free means to be free to satisfy one’s preferences. Preferences themselves are beyond rational scrutiny; they express the authentic core of a self whose freedom is realized when there are no encumbrances to its preference-satisfying behavior. Reason is in the service of this freedom, in a purely instrumental way; it is a person’s capacity to calculate the best means to satisfy his ends. About the ends themselves we are to maintain a principled silence, out of respect for the autonomy of the individual. To do otherwise would be to risk lapsing into paternalism. Thus does liberal agnosticism about the human good line up with the market ideal of “choice.” We invoke the latter as a content-free meta-good that bathes every actual choice made in the softly egalitarian, flattering light of autonomy. This mutually reinforcing set of posits about freedom and rationality provides the basic framework for the discipline of economics, and for “liberal theory” in departments of political science. It is all wonderfully consistent, even beautiful. But in surveying contemporary life, it is hard not to notice that this catechism doesn’t describe our situation very well. Especially the bit about our preferences expressing a welling-up of the authentic self. Those preferences have become the object of social engineering, conducted not by government bureaucrats but by mind-bogglingly wealthy corporations armed with big data. To continue to insist that preferences express the sovereign self and are for that reason sacred—unavailable for rational scrutiny—is to put one’s head in the sand. The resolutely individualistic understanding of freedom and rationality we have inherited from the liberal tradition disarms the critical faculties we need most in order to grapple with the large-scale societal pressures we now face.

Today’s target was a woman of ninety-three who looked thirty-three, and who was constantly busy. When she wasn’t looking at her phone she was looking in her purse; when she wasn’t looking in her purse she was looking at her nails, or the sleeve of her blouse, or the loose button on her jacket. What does she fear in idleness? Citra wondered. The woman was so self- absorbed, she had no clue that she was under the scrutiny of a scythe, trailing her by only ten yards.

I was trying to get a handle on Blindsight; I entertained and discarded any number of adaptive functions in search of that grand thematic punchline that would end the book. Yes, my protagonist would realize, self-awareness is absolutely essential because of X. The problem was, I couldn’t find an X that stood up under scrutiny; and it took me far too long to realize that Consciousness is good for nothing at all was the scariest and most existentially gut-churning punchline imaginable.

Withdrawal into the self is passive in relation to an overcomplex social reality which oscillates between innuendo and brutal explicitness, but it appears to be a solution of sorts. It is as difficult to assess as it is to understand. It cannot be said that ‘reprivatization’ has not been actively chosen. There has been an option, and a general one (social options, group choices, socially accepted and adopted proposals for choice). Nor can it be said that it has been chosen freely. However, the choice itself is imposed and the solution is indicated or countermanded. This constraint operates within a fairly narrow margin of freedom; the weight from outside and from the ‘world’ becomes increasingly oppressive for an intimacy which has been metamorphosed into a mass phenomenon. Is this a lifestyle, or is it life unequivocally stripped of all style? Although we would tend towards the second of these hypotheses, it is still too early to reach a decision; scrutiny of these hypotheses and this problem is part of the sociology of boredom …

According to the prevailing notion, freedom manifests as “preference-satisfying behavior.” About the preferences themselves we are to maintain a principled silence, out of deference to the autonomy of the individual. They are said to express the authentic core of the self, and are for that reason unavailable for rational scrutiny. But this logic would seem to break down when our preferences are the object of massive social engineering, conducted not by government “nudgers” but by those who want to monetize our attention.

Legalism The weight we are describing is called legalism. It is a form of religious perfectionism that focuses on the careful performance and avoidance of certain behaviors. It teaches people to gain a sense of spiritual acceptance based on their performance, instead of accepting it as a gift on the basis of Christ. Why were the leaders of Jesus’ and Paul’s day spreading legalistic teaching? Was it simply a matter of being right? It’s more serious than that. Look at Galatians 6: 12-13: Those who desire to make a good showing in the flesh try to compel you to be circumcised, simply that they may not be persecuted for the cross of Christ. For those who are circumcised do not even keep the Law themselves, but they desire to have you circumcised, that they may boast in your flesh. You see, living with Jesus as your only source of life and acceptance is a confrontation to those who seek God’s approval on the basis of their own religious behavior. This, then, explains the pressure you feel to perform religious behaviors in spiritually abusive contexts. If you perform as they say you must: (1) it will make them look good; (2) their self-righteousness will escape the scrutiny of the cross of Christ as the only means to God’s favor; (3) it will allow them to examine you instead of themselves; (4) they will be able to “boast in” or gain a sense of validation from your religious performance. Can you see the abusive dynamic described in chapter one? Here we have religious people trying to meet their own spiritual needs through someone else’s religious performance. And it’s all cloaked in the language of being holy and helping others to live holy lives.

The most problematic depression episodes plunge me into a feeling of disconnection. I am no longer a part of the world. All the colours, meaning and richness become hidden or lost to me. There is a numbing absence of feeling that strips away any inspiration and creativity. I become dead to myself, a husk, a shell. The fall into this state can be violently fast, although the triggers have all been external. Life does not treat many of us kindly. Most of the time, I draw inspiration from the world around me. That sense of connection to all other living and perhaps-not-living things nourishes and sustains me. Being pushed out of that sense of belonging is brutal. I have self-esteem issues and, subjected as I was to barrages of abuse, bitter criticism, invasive scrutiny and some terrifying processes in my life, I’ve been crushed, repeatedly. I’ve come to places where I’ve felt so awful that the only imaginable way out, I thought, was to die. I’m still alive because of the love and dedication of my husband. I hold the hope that I won’t have to crawl through hell again anytime soon, that I can build internal reserves strong enough to resist external pressures.

The dilemma can be resolved only by painstaking self-scrutiny, in which the lover examines stringently the worth of his or her “wisdom” and the motives behind this need to assume leadership. “Do I really see things clearly or am I operating on murky assumptions? Do I really understand my beloved? Could it not be that the path my beloved is taking is wise and that my perception of it as unwise is the result of limited vision on my part? Am I being self-serving in believing that my beloved needs redirection?” These are questions that those who truly love must continually ask themselves.

5. The “No Talk” Rule. This rule prohibits the full expression of any feeling, need or want. In shame-based families, the members want to hide their true feelings, needs or wants. Therefore, no one speaks of his loneliness and sense of self-rupture. 6. The “No Listen” Rule. Everyone is so busy using their energy to defend themselves or play their rigid roles, no one really hears anything from the other’s true self. 7. Don’t Make Mistakes. Mistakes reveal the flawed, vulnerable self. To acknowledge a mistake is to open oneself to scrutiny. Cover up your own mistakes, and if someone else makes a mistake, shame him. 8. Unreliability. Don’t expect reliability in relationships. Don’t trust anyone, and you will never be disappointed. The parents didn’t get their developmental dependency needs met and will not be there for their children to depend on. The distrust cycle goes on. 9. Don’t Trust. Since no one feels validated or listened to, and there is unpredictability and unreliability on the part of the source figures, no one develops basic trust in themselves or others.

Fawn Brodie observed that Westerners traditionally “demanded personality rather than diplomas from the men who called them to God.” Metaphysical teachers journeying from the east in the twentieth century found that they faced little scrutiny concerning educational credentials. Science of Mind’s Ernest Holmes was a playground instructor and purchasing agent for Venice, California. The scribe of the Masters of the Far East, Baird T. Spalding, was a gold prospector. William Dudley Pelley, who spent “seven minutes in eternity,” was a screenwriter. Psychiana’s Frank B. Robinson was a druggist. Levi Dowling, author of The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ, was a homeopathic healer. Spencer Lewis, founder of the Ancient and Mystical Order Rosae Crucis (AMORC), was a commercial illustrator. These were entirely self-made religious leaders. But this is not to say that they were less than able. The occult denizens of the twentieth century, particularly those who found audiences on the West Coast, were extremely capable and often displayed an admirable fluidity to shatter the bonds of social position that might have held back earlier generations. Occultists

Although we are all subject to self-deception and to a variety of wish-fulfilling illusions, Freud’s account of the oceanic feeling and its meaning is less than satisfactory. It seems a more important experience than he admits. Defensive strategies and escapist wish-fulfilments generally appear superficial and partially inauthentic even to those who are employing them. But those who have experienced the states of mind recorded by Byrd and by William James record them as having had a permanent effect upon their perception of themselves and of the world; as being the profoundest moments of their existence. This is true both of those who have felt the sense of unity with the universe and of those who have felt the sense of unity with a beloved person. Freud was right in seeing a close similarity between these two varieties of unity, but wrong in dismissing them as merely regressive. Such feelings are intensely subjective, and are hardly susceptible of measurement or scientific scrutiny. But to feel totally at one with another person, or totally at one with the universe, are such deep experiences that, although they may be transient, they cannot be dismissed as mere evasions or defences against unwelcome truths.

We are all permeable to the influence of the group. What makes us more permeable is our insecurities. The less we are certain about our self-worth as individuals, the more we are unconsciously drawn toward fitting in and blending ourselves into the group spirit. Gaining the superficial approval of group members by displaying our conformity, we cover up our insecurities to ourselves and to others. But this approval is fleeting; our insecurities gnaw at us, and we must continually get people’s attention to feel validated. Your goal must be to lower your permeability by raising your self-esteem. If you feel strong and confident about what makes you unique—your tastes, your values, your own experience—you can more easily resist the group effect. Furthermore, by relying upon your work and accomplishments to anchor your self-opinion, you won’t be so tied to constantly seeking approval and attention. It is not that you become self-absorbed or cut off from the group—outwardly you do what you can to fit in, but inwardly you subject the ideas and beliefs of the group to constant scrutiny, comparing them with your own, adapting parts or all of those that have merit and rejecting others that go against your experience. You are putting the focus on the ideas themselves, not on where they come from.

One can even alter, confuse, or interfere with particular conscious states by intruding upon the activities of the brain, chemically, surgically, traumatically, or otherwise; but one can never enter into, let alone measure, the persistent and irreducibly private perspective of the subject in whom these states inhere. This should be obvious, even to the most committed believer in empirical method, but its implications often prove strangely difficult to grasp (perhaps they are altogether too obvious): there is an absolute qualitative abyss between the objective facts of neurophysiology and the subjective experience of being a conscious self, and so a method capable of providing a model of only the former can never produce an adequate causal narrative of the latter. While one may choose to believe that the brain’s objectively observable electrochemical processes and the mind’s subjective, impenetrably private experiences are simply two sides of a single, wholly physical phenomenon, there is still no empirical way in which the two sides can be collapsed into a single observable datum, or even connected to one another in a clear causal sequence. The purely physical nature of those experiences remains, therefore, only a conjecture, and one that lacks even the support of a plausible analogy to some other physical process, as there is no other “mechanism” in nature remotely similar to consciousness. The difference in kind between the material structure of the brain and the subjective structure of consciousness remains fixed and inviolable, and so the precise relation between them cannot be defined, or even isolated as an object of scientific scrutiny. And this is an epistemological limit that it seems reasonable to think may never be erased, no matter how sophisticated our knowledge of the complex activities of the brain may become;

Let me put the contrast in a single concrete example. The physician who finds time to give personal attention to his patients and listens to them. carefully probing inner conditions that may be more significant than any laboratory reports, has become a rarity. Where the power complex is dominant, a visit to a physician is paced, not to fit the patient's needs, but mainly to perform the succession of physical tests upon which the diagnosis will be based. Yet if there were a sufficient number of competent physicians on hand whose inner resources were as available as their laboratory aids, a more subtle diagnosis might be possible, and the patient's subjective response might in many cases effectively supplement the treatment. Thoreau expressed this to perfection when he observed in his 'Journal' that "the really efficient laborer will be found not to crowd his day with work, but will saunter to his task surrounded by a wide halo of ease and leisure." Without this slowing of the tempo of all activities the positive advantages of plenitude could not be sufficiently enjoyed; for the congestion of time is as threatening to the good life as the congestion of space or people, and produces stresses and tensions that equally undermine human relations. The inner stability that such a slowdown brings about is essential to the highest uses of the mind, through opening up that second life which one lives in reflection and contemplation and self-scrutiny. The means to escape from the "noisy crowing up of things and whatsoever wars on the divine" was one of the vital offerings of the classic religions: hence their emphasis was not on technological productivity but on personal poise. The old slogan of New York subway guards in handling a crush of passengers applies with even greater force to the tempo of megatechnic society: "What's your hurry...Watch your step!

This is why churches that try the most self-consciously to avoid social issues and political questions become, unwittingly, the most political of all. The founders of my church tradition, in concert with others, spoke much of the “spirituality of the church” as a reason for avoiding “political” issues. To some degree, they were right. The church does not bear the sword that’s been given to the state; the church advances by spiritual, not carnal, means. But the “spirituality of the church” was a convenient doctrine. My denomination was founded back in the nineteenth century by those who advocated for human slavery, and who sought to keep their consciences and their ballots and their wallets away from a transcendent word that would speak against the sinful injustice of a regime of kidnapping, rape, and human beings wickedly deigning to buy and sell other human beings created in the image of God. Slavery, they argued (to their shame), was a “political” issue that ought not distract the church from its mission: evangelism and discipleship. What such a move empowered was not just social injustice (which would have been bad enough), but also personal sin. When so-called “simple gospel preaching” churches in 1856 Alabama or 1925 Mississippi calls sinners to repentance for fornicating and gambling but not for slaveholding or lynching, those churches may be many things but they are hardly non-political. By not addressing these issues, they are addressing them, by implicitly stating that they are not worthy of the moral scrutiny of the church, that they will not be items of report at the Judgment Seat of Christ. These churches, thus, bless the status quo, with all the fealty of a court chaplain. The same is true of a church in twenty-first-century America that doesn’t speak to the pressing issues of justice and righteousness around us, such as the horror of abortion and the persisting sins of racial injustice.

TRY: Noticing the resistance to the impulse to give, the worries about the future, the feeling that you may be giving too much, or the thought that it won’t be appreciated “enough,” or that you will be exhausted from the effort, or that you won’t get anything out of it, or that you don’t have enough yourself. Consider the possibility that none of these are actually true, but that they are just forms of inertia, constriction, and fear-based self-protection. These thoughts and feelings are the rough edges of self-cherishing, which rub up against the world and frequently cause us and others pain and a sense of distance, isolation, and diminishment. Giving sands down such rough edges and helps us become more mindful of our inner wealth. By practicing mindfulness of generosity, by giving, and by observing its effects on ourselves and others, we are transforming ourselves, purifying ourselves, discovering expanded versions of ourselves. You may protest that you don’t have enough energy or enthusiasm to give anything away, that you are already feeling overwhelmed, or impoverished. Or you may feel that all you do is give, give, give, and that it is just taken for granted by others, not appreciated or even seen, or that you use it as a way of hiding from pain and fear, as a way of making sure others like you or feel dependent on you. Such difficult patterns and relationships themselves call out for attention and careful scrutiny. Mindless giving is never healthy or generous. It is important to understand your motives for giving, and to know when some kinds of giving are not a display of generosity but rather of fear and lack of confidence. In the mindful cultivation of generosity, it is not necessary to give everything away, or even anything. Above all, generosity is an inward giving, a feeling state, a willingness to share your own being with the world. Most important is to trust and honor your instincts but, at the same time, to walk the edge and take some risks as part of your experiment. Perhaps you need to give less, or to trust your intuition about exploitation or unhealthy motives or impulses. Perhaps you do need to give, but in a different way, or to different people. Perhaps most of all, you need to give to yourself first for a while. Then you might try giving others a tiny bit more than you think you can, consciously noting and letting go of any ideas of getting anything in return. Initiate giving. Don’t wait for someone to ask. See what happens—especially to you. You may find that you gain a greater clarity about yourself and about your relationships, as well as more energy rather than less. You may find that, rather than exhausting yourself or your resources, you will replenish them. Such is the power of mindful, selfless generosity. At the deepest level, there is no giver, no gift, and no recipient…only the universe rearranging itself.

The same is true about the conventional sense of self — the feeling of being a subject inside your head, a locus of consciousness behind your eyes, a thinker in addition to the flow of thoughts. This form of subjectivity does not survive scrutiny. If you really look for what you are calling “I,” this feeling will disappear.

In 2005 joblessness would peak at 10.6 percent. To combat this scourge, between 2003 and 2005 the Schroeder government announced a national restructuring program titled Agenda 2010. Its main thrust was a multiphase program of labor market liberalization and benefit cuts, designed by a committee headed by VW’s head of human resources, Peter Hartz. The fourth and final phase of cuts, Hartz IV, became synonymous with a new German “reform” narrative. The unemployed were returned to work. Wage restraint restored German competitiveness. The reward came already in 2003 when Germany could boast of being the world export champion (Exportweltmeister). Agenda 2010 would come to define a new bipartisan self-understanding of Germany’s political class. Having accomplished the enormous task of reunification, Germany had overcome its internal difficulties and “reformed” its way back to economic health. It is a narrative that is superficially compelling and it would have significant implications for how Berlin approached the crisis of the eurozone, but it does not withstand close scrutiny. Hartz IV certainly drove millions of people more or less willingly off long-term unemployment benefits into a range of insecure jobs. This helped to hold down wages for unskilled workers, such as cashiers and cleaning workers. In the first ten years of the euro, despite soaring productivity, half of German households experienced no wage growth at all. This shortened unemployment rolls. It also increased pretax inequality and lowered Germany’s wages relative to its European neighbors. But as to the competitiveness of German exporters, the significance of Hartz IV is far less obvious. German companies do not win export orders by shaving the wages of unskilled workers. A far more important source of competitive advantage came from outsourcing production to Eastern Europe and Southern Europe. Added to which there was the boost from the global recovery of the early 2000s. While its economic impact has been exaggerated, what Hartz IV did transform was German politics. The blue-collar electorate and the left wing of the SPD never forgave Schroeder for Hartz IV.

Your travels will take you through some interesting and exciting twists and turns. It can be scary. At some point you will confront a belief you really want to be true, that may even be part of your identity, but that does not stand up to close scrutiny. Ultimately this is a journey of self-discovery, and hopefully this book will serve as a guide on that journey.

... the place is one of these clubs with mirrors on all four walls that force you into displays of public self-scrutiny that are as excruciating as they are irresistible, and there are huge and insectile-looking pieces of machinery that mimic the aerobic demands of staircases and rowboats and racing bikes and improperly waxed cross-country skis, etc., complete with heart-monitor electrodes and radio headphones; and on these machines there are people in spandex whom you really want to take aside and advise in the most tactful and loving way not to wear spandex.

Awareness and knowledge of what occurs in the present, which we call reality, is imperfect and vague. While we can never comprehend all aspects of reality, a person enhances personal comprehension by placing the seed of their existence under strict scrutiny. Acting as an impartial judge of our own deeds and by reviewing the lives of other people whom underwent similar experiences, we enhance our level of self-awareness. Reviewing other people’s stories increases our understanding of humanity and provides insight into our own personal struggles.

Writing is one method of presenting the troubling incidences and inexplicable episodes of life into a structured format for self-scrutiny. Writing my life story is an effort to learn from every vivid and every morbid encounter in life.

Finn looked up at Megan and suddenly she felt totally self-conscious. But she meant everything she had said. She knew she was right. But something about the way he was looking at her was making her feel like he could see under her skin. “Can I paint you?” Finn asked. Megan blinked. “Okay, that’s basically the last thing I ever thought you were gonna say.” Finn was on his feet and removing Kayla’s painting from the easel before the rush of heat had eased from Megan’s face. Suddenly he was a flurry of motion, cleaning brushes, squirting paint onto his palette, crumpling paper towels and launching them toward an overflowing trash can in the corner. “So, can I?” he asked. “Uh…I guess,” Megan said, already feeling awkward. If there was one thing Megan wasn’t, it was a model. She had never seen a freckle-faced, broad-shouldered, thick-calved girl in the pages of Tracy’s fashion mags. Not once. Finn was busily arranging his easel, which faced the back wall. Megan started to push herself off her stool. “Should I--?” “No! No. Stay right there,” Finn said. He picked up his easel and turned it so that the back of the contraption was facing her and her stool. “That’s good. I like the light right there.” Megan glanced up at the skylight and the blue sky beyond. “Am I gonna have to sit still for this?” she asked. “’Cuz I’m not very good at that.” Finn grinned and peeked at her over the top of his clean canvas. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” Megan sat and watched Finn as he worked, sketching her outline, the pencil scraping lightly against the cloth. He was riveted, concentrating, but his arms and hands seemed to move of their own volition. Watching him was mesmerizing. Even when he looked up at her, she found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She kept catching his glance, looking directly into his eyes. Megan’s skin grew warm under his intense scrutiny. She lifted her ponytail off the back of her neck to get some air and the ends of her hair tickled her skin. Her breath came quick and shallow. “You okay?” he asked. Megan instantly blushed and averted her gaze. “Yeah, fine.” “’Cuz we can stop if you don’t want to do this,” Finn replied. “No, I’m…I’m okay,” Megan said. Truth be told, everything inside her and around her felt charged. She could have sat there all day. “Good,” Finn said. Megan’s whole body felt a pleasant, tingling warmth. For a split second, neither of them moved.

When they got to their hotel she went straight up to bed, but he paused to get a drink. There was, in the vestibule, a flower stall and he bought a handful of roses, stiffly wired into a bouquet, before proceeding to the oppressive gorgeousness of their bridal suite. The lift was lined with looking glass, so that as he shot upwards he got an endlessly duplicated version of himself, stout and nervous, a light cloak flung over his shoulder and flowers in his hand: an infinitely long row of gentlemen carrying offerings to an unforgiving past.

Anxiety and the Social Process Generally, in life, we only make progress when we are willing to take risks. If you don’t take risks in your life, it’s probably because you are held back by anxiety. Because you fear that interaction will result in rejection, embarrassment, and scrutiny, you feel anxiety about it. After all, you tell yourself, why risk experiencing failure? But as we have discussed, rejection is not devastating; it is merely disappointing, and, with your anxiety under control, disappointment is entirely bearable. In time, and with practice and eventual success, your fear of disappointment will diminish. Some people, far from shying away from social contact, actually look forward to meeting new people. Meeting new people does not in itself cause anxiety. The beliefs you hold cause anxiety. If you believe rejection will be devastating to you, and that rejection is highly likely to happen, you will feel quite justified in making sure that you never meet any new people at all. But avoidance does not alleviate anxiety. It simply makes the problem worse next time the situation arises. You need to tap into your positive mental attitude. Tell yourself: “Meeting new people is healthy, and by doing it, I stand a good chance of having a positive experience.” To summarize, here are some tips for interactive success. Try to integrate them into your being—make them part of your overall attitude toward interacting. 1. Anticipate success. 2. Be willing to risk. 3. Think positive thoughts about yourself to boost your self-esteem. 4. Think positive thoughts about others as well. 5. Be yourself. This last point leads into a discussion of mental focus. It is typical of a socially anxious person to focus on himself or herself, to forget to read the nonverbal signals of others. Before you attempt to meet someone, it’s a good idea to focus your attention in the right direction, not on yourself, but on the other person. Use your new skills of self-awareness and relaxation to enhance your focusing abilities. Think of your attention as a finite resource. Is it really best spent on thoughts about yourself? (“Do I look okay?” “Can he tell I’m sweating?” “Can she tell I’m blushing?” “I hope I don’t say anything dumb,” and so on.) With so much attention directed inward, there is very little left to spend on the other person. One of my clients has so much trouble focusing on others in conversation that she developed a habit of pinching herself to stay on track. Do all you can to stop your inward thinking, because paying attention to the other person will provide you with the basis of an interesting and successful conversation. If you have trouble averting the focus from your own anxiety, try using relaxation techniques to bring your symptoms under control. Diaphragmatic breathing, for example, can bring immediate relief.

Bertrand Russell:   The expression “free thought” is often used as if it meant merely opposition to the prevailing orthodoxy. But this is only a symptom of free thought, frequent, but invariable. “Free thought” means thinking freely—as freely, at least, as is possible for a human being. The person who is free in any respect is free from something; what is the free thinker free from? To be worthy of the name, he must be free of two things; the force of tradition, and the tyranny of his own passions. No one is completely free from either, but in the measure of a man’s emancipation he deserves to be called a free thinker. A man is not to be denied this title because he happens, on some point, to agree with the theologians of his country. An Arab who, starting from the first principles of human reason, is able to deduce that the Koran was not created, but existed eternally in heaven, may be counted as a free thinker, provided he is willing to listen to counter arguments and subject his ratiocination to critical scrutiny... What makes a free thinker is not his beliefs, but the way in which he holds them. If he holds them because his elders told him they were true when he was young, or if he holds them because if he did not he would be unhappy, his thought is not free; but if he holds them because, after careful thought, he finds a balance of evidence in their favor, then his thought is free, however odd his conclusions may seem.[4]

Each of us must use self-scrutiny in order to ascertain how to immerse ourselves into prevailing culture and develop personals skills and survival mechanisms in order to cope with all the paradoxes and complications of a chaotic world. We cannot gauge the equipoise of our emotional health by examining the columns of numbers representing money earned or sums owed on a financial balance sheet. We must periodically take stock of our character assets and personality liabilities. Maintaining a permanency of felicity lodged in our lightsome soul might be the most important asset besides physical genetics that we will ever possess. Unlike our genetic disposition, we are the sole sentinels of our emotional health.

Self-scrutiny, relentless observance of one’s thoughts, is a stark and shattering experience. It pulverises the stoutest ego. But true self-analysis mathematically operates to produce seers.

Azarion contemplated his new cellmate, seeing what the guards didn't— an unsteady shimmer surrounding her, like rain spilling over the surface of a polished shield. It blurred and wavered, finally fading under his continued scrutiny until her true self was unmasked.

Ironically, the only two “relevan[t]” metrics that the Court does identify are “how and why” a gun control regulation “burden[s the] right to armed self-defense.” In other words, the Court believes that the most relevant metrics of comparison are a regulation’s means (how) and ends (why)—even as it rejects the utility of means-end scrutiny.

Sympathy toward me would demand self examination and the questioning of their values, with the discomfort that brings. Their hearts were not large enough to withstand that kind of scrutiny.

Old and New (The Sonnet) Old is not necessarily gold, New is not necessarily cool. Stereotypes without scrutiny, Sustain only a society of fools. Answer to one stereotype is not another, Answer to one assumption is not another. To make assumption is not wrong but, To assume it as truth supreme is rhubarb. Perception is all about assumption, Our brain hasn't evolved to observe reality. Biases prevent the observation of biases, unless, You are hellbent to expand across comfort and luxury. Stereotypes are archetypes of self-preservation. Look outside the self and you'll find assimilation.

a wave of self-consciousness about my American-ness washed over me. That was to the good: done right, all travel should trigger self-scrutiny. At some point, the traveler should swing around the binoculars and train the gaze on her own culture.

Nigerian human rights activist Obianuju Ekeocha casts a spotlight on the new colonialism and subjects it to searching critical scrutiny. She shows, for example, how in the name of “human rights” the basic right to life of the unborn child is being daily undermined by Western governments and by (often partially government-funded) “nongovernmental organizations”, such as International Planned Parenthood, who push abortion. Similarly, the pro-fertility and pro-marriage and family beliefs of vast numbers of Africans and others are undermined in the name of “human rights”, as that term is (mis)used by advocates of population control, sexual permissiveness, certain forms of self-styled feminism, and the redefinition of marriage to eliminate the norm of sexual complementarity.

Our original liberal principle of value agnosticism neutralizes our critical energies. If we have no robust and demanding picture of what a good life would look like, then we are unable to articulate any detailed criticism of the particular sort of falling away from a good life that something like machine gambling represents. We are therefore unable to offer any rationale for regulation that would go beyond narrow economic considerations. We take the preferences of the individual to be sacred, the mysterious welling up of his authentic self, and therefore unavailable for rational scrutiny. The fact that these preferences are the object of billion-dollar, scientifically informed efforts of manipulation doesn't square with the picture of the choosing self assumed in the idea of a 'free market.' It is a fact without a noisy partisan, so our attention is easily diverted from it. Further, by keeping his gaze away from such facts, the liberal/libertarian keeps his own soul pure, lest he commit the sin of recommending to others some substantive ideal, one that will necessarily be controversial. But outside his garden wall there are wolves preying on the townspeople. In our current historical circumstances, his liberal purity amounts to a lack of public-spiritedness.

Right Mindfulness, and the self-scrutiny it engenders, builds a mental muscle. It is a muscle of nonjudgmental self-observation, but it can become much more than that. It is also a precursor of insight. The form such insight takes is different for everyone, but the flavor is similar. Mindfulness makes use of all of those throwaway thoughts that harken back to our childhoods, the ones we adopted to cope with the pressures of growing up. In asking us to pay attention to their repetitive nature, mindfulness also encourages us to recognize their childish quality. ... stopped in our tracks and made aware of how unnecessary such self-protective responses could be. Given the freedom to act differently, we both made a similar choice. Mindfulness showed us how.

Also, I don't like the word priceless. It's an adjective, I said. I didn't want to say that I had learned the word from the television commercials for Mastercard when I had first arrived in America. I know, I know, Nikolai said. But it's a derivative of a revolting noun. Like marrying a toad for unseemly gain. It comes at a price. Everything comes at a price, can we not say that? I said. The flowers on the table, the photos in the frames, the stuffed penguins—forty-one of them—cuddled together, a livable life, an inevitable death, sorrow and stoicism, fear and despair. A self that, too close to one, does not stand self-injuring scrutiny; a self, too far removed, becomes a phantom limb.

It is not, of course, the desire to be beautiful that is wrong but the obligation to be—or to try […] For the ideal of beauty is administered as a form of self-oppression. Women are taught to see their bodies in parts, and to evaluate each part separately. Breasts, feet, hips, waistline, neck, eyes, nose, complexion, hair, and so on—each in turn is submitted to an anxious, fretful, often despairing scrutiny. Even if some pass muster, some will always be found wanting. Nothing less than perfection will do.

She was a contradiction, both vulnerable and incredibly self-assured. She knew exactly who she was and didn’t hide from that knowledge, but she didn’t like the scrutiny of others.

I couldn't write—or wouldn't write, at any rate—unable to face the grueling self-scrutiny that fiction demands

March 6: Emmeline Snively, head of the Blue Book Modeling Agency, sends Norma Jeane to Joseph Jasgur for test shots. In The Birth of Marilyn, Jeannie Sakol reports Jasgur’s first impressions: “What he saw was not too encouraging. Her hips were too broad and would photograph even broader if he didn’t take special pains. Her loose pink wool sweater and check pedal pushers only exaggerated the imperfections of her figure and emphasized her need to lose some weight. As for her hair, it was thick and wild and reddish brown, its natural curliness obviously impossible to control—although she had equally obviously tried to do just that with a saucy beret. The colour, Jasgur realized, was totally wrong for her blue eyes and peach blossom skin tones. If ever a girl should be blonde it was this girl who was so patiently enduring his professional scrutiny. . . . She didn’t have a chance, he thought, until he looked into her eyes. . . . A lovely vivid blue, they gazed at him with a calm and quiet dignity, neither arrogant nor seductive. There was something there. Jasgur shakes his head with amazement that has never left him in forty-five years. ‘I never thought that something would take her so far.’” He finds her shy and anxious. Other photographers report similar experiences with her. But in front of the camera, Jasgur remembered, “[S]he was relaxed, no trace of self-consciousness. Even in those formative days, I think she trusted the camera more than she trusted people.

In other words, the Bannonite belief in disruption as an end in itself renders impossible any self-scrutiny or acknowledgment of error, in a kind of endless feedback loop (the consequences of which could become much more dire over time). And it is precisely the Bannonite contempt for procedural and institutional knowledge that is partly responsible for creating all of the logistical and legal problems to begin with.

Carl discreetly turned his head to the left and then the right to make sure Mom wasn’t within hearing range. “I tried to stick it in er ass once and she didn’t speak to me for a week,” he nearly whispered before belting out a slur of loose chuckles. “And gettin’ ‘er to do ya on top? Forget about it!” In ways, I morphed into Carl’s description of the ideal woman. Like Mom, physical beauty was my ultimate priority. I spent hours on end stripped naked, posing in front of my full length bedroom mirror at every angle so that each wrinkle, roll, and pinch of fat could receive sharp scrutiny before I strived for complete self annihilation. I made it a habit of studying every Teen magazine model and the skinniest cheerleaders in my middle school yearbook. I observed their arms, legs, and hips. I held their images against mine with a goal for my bones to protrude further and calves spread further apart when standing straight. However, I saw the way Carl bent his head down and lowered his voice when he spoke about Mom, as if it was our job to keep a feisty, barking puppy believing that it was our guard dog. “Ure mom can’t help she got half ure I-Q,” Carl would chuckle.

Today’s pubic hair removal may indicate something similar: we have opened our most intimate parts to unprecedented scrutiny, evaluation, commodification. Largely as a result of the Brazilian trend, cosmetic labiaplasty, the clipping of the folds of skin surrounding the vulva, has skyrocketed: while still well behind nose and boob jobs, according to the American Society of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons (ASAPS), there was a 44 percent rise in the procedure between 2012 and 2013—and a 64 percent jump the previous year. Labiaplasty is almost never related to sexual function or pleasure; it can actually impede both. Never mind: Dr. Michael Edwards, the ASAPS president in 2013, hailed the uptick as part of “an ever-evolving concept of beauty and self-confidence.” The most sought-after look, incidentally, is called—are you ready?—the Barbie: a “‘ clamshell’-type effect in which the outer labia appear fused, with no labia minora protruding.” I trust I don’t need to remind the reader that Barbie is (a) made of plastic and (b) has no vagina.

She despised her nakedness beneath the thin hospital gown and tried to wave Paul out of the room. But he shushed her and stood firmly planted beside the table where she lay. He held her gaze, forcing her to look into his eyes. He smoothed her forehead with gentle hands, and she winced, not in pain but in humiliation. Paul closed her eyes gently with his fingers and let his large warm hands rest lightly on her forehead, covering her eyes with the palm of his hand as though he could take away her self-imposed shame by sparing her his scrutiny. She loved him all the more for the act.

What I think I am saying is that phenomenal consciousness - the raw feel of experience - is invisible to conventional scientific scrutiny and will forever remain so. It is, by definition, subjective - where as science, by definition, adopts an objective stance. You can't be in two places at once. You either experience consciousness "from the inside" ([...]) or you view it "from the outside" ([...]). Science can study the neural activity, the bodily states, the environmental conditions, and the outward behaviours - including verbal behaviours that stand for different states of awareness ([...]), but the quality - the feel - of our experiences remains forever private and therefore out of bounds of scientific analysis. I can't see a way round this. Privateness is a fundamental constituent of consciousness.

the question is not “Are you flawed?” It’s “What do you do about your flaws?” Do you learn from your mistakes so you can do and be better in the future? Or do you reject the hard work of self-improvement and instead tear others down so you can assert they’re as bad or worse than you are? I’ve always tried to do the former. And, by and large, so has our country, with our long march toward a more perfect union. But Donald Trump does the latter. Instead of admitting mistakes, he lashes out, demeans, and insults others—often projecting by accusing others of doing what he himself has done or is about to do. So if he knows that the Donald J. Trump Foundation is little more than a personal piggy bank, he’ll turn around and accuse, with no evidence, the well-respected Clinton Foundation of being corrupt. There’s a method to this madness. For Trump, if everyone’s down in the mud with him, then he’s no dirtier than anyone else. He doesn’t have to do better if everyone else does worse. I think that’s why he seems to relish humiliating people around him. And it’s why he must have been delighted when Marco Rubio tried to match him in slinging crude personal insults during the primaries. Of course, it hurt Rubio much more than Trump. As Bill likes to say, never wrestle a pig in the mud. They have cloven hooves, which give them superior traction, and they love getting dirty. Sadly, Trump’s strategy works. When people start believing that all politicians are liars and crooks, the truly corrupt escape scrutiny, and cynicism grows.

Sadomasochism is a combination of acts enclave of physical conditions gaily in which spiritual energy is zero; for some, it is only superficial and dissemblance pleasure of torture with enforcement. This does apply paradoxically in today's hyclical world; this does not conclude the self-serving and rudeness of humans perfunctorily. Terminate it instead of captivating it. This act will always be raised and remain subject to scrutiny. Senior and junior are all getting hacked by hanging in its clench while holding the queue. Sadism is the self-obsession of some people; they have clutched it in a venomous state and liked its harassment.

Perhaps because of its special place in our sense of self and free will, the brain did not receive the scrutiny of microbiologists again until the final years of the twentieth century. At this point, many microbes were soon linked to mental illness, but it is the Toxoplasma parasite that has proved to be the most compelling suspect for many conditions. Occasionally, when people are first infected with the parasite they develop psychiatric symptoms, such as hallucinations and delusions, that lead to an initial misdiagnosis of schizophrenia. In fact, amongst those with schizophrenia, the presence of Toxoplasma is three times more common than in the general population – a far more telling association than any genetic connections so far revealed. Intriguingly, schizophrenics are not the only mental health patients in whom Toxoplasma infection is rife. It has also been found to be involved in obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD), attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and Tourette’s syndrome, all of which have become increasingly common over the past several decades.

[...] this observing self often kills and withers anything that is under its scrutiny. The individual has now a persecuting observer in the very core of his being. It may be that the child becomes possessed by the alien and destructive presence of the observer who has turned bad in his absence, occupying the place of the observing self, of the boy himself outside the mirror. If this happens, he retains his awareness of himself as an object in the eyes of another by observing himself as the other: he lends the other his eyes in order that he may continue to be seen; he then becomes an object in his own eyes. But the part of himself who looks into him and sees him, has developed the persecutory features he has come to feel the real person outside him to have. [Self-consciousness, Freyd]

I would study my classmates as they talked, and watch shows and movies and mimic the way the cool kids acted. I would create scripts in my mind and practice them over and over again. I became so good at being who my peers wanted me to be that I lost myself in the process. While I was able to stop the scrutiny, that pain was replaced by extreme anxiety and depression as a result of suppressing everything I was meant to be. It wasn’t until I was in my early 30s that I started to find myself again–my true autistic, queer self. I’m an expert at masking and transforming, but it does come at a price to my mental health. It’s why I try to only do it in short stints.

When you play, make sure you're honest enough to confront your own deficiencies. That's why practicing is a sign of morality in a musician. It means that you're willing to subject yourself to self-scrutiny of the highest order.

I have long exercised an honest introspection, the exquisitely painful approach to wisdom. Self−scrutiny, relentless observance of one's thoughts, is a stark and shattering experience. It pulverizes the stoutest ego. But true self−analysis mathematically operates to produce seers. The way of 'self−expression,' individual acknowledgements, results in egotists, sure of the right to their private interpretations of God and the universe. Truth humbly retires, no doubt, before such arrogant originality.

I am talking here about the need for every woman to live a considered life. The necessity for that consideration grows and deepens as one faces directly one's own mortality and death. Self scrutiny and an evaluation of our own lives, while painful, can be rewarding and strengthening journeys toward a deeper self. For as we open ourselves more and more to the genuine conditions of our lives, women become less and less willing to tolerate those conditions unaltered, or to passively accept external and destructive controls over our lives and our identities.

Instead of resigning ourselves to the inevitability of bad sex, and even romanticizing it as merely youthful misadventure, we should subject it to sustained scrutiny. Bad sex emerges from gender norms in which women cannot be equal agents of sexual pursuit, and in which men are entitled to gratification at all costs. It occurs because of inadequacies and inequalities in access to sexual literacy, sex education and sexual health services. It trades on unequal power dynamics between parties, and on racialized notions of innocence and guilt. Bad sex is a political issue, one of inequality of access to pleasure and self-determination, and it is as a political issue that we should be examining it, rather than retreating into an individualizing, shoulder-shrugging criticism of young women who are using the tools available to them to address the pains of their sexual lives.

Porter’s next new Hollywood work, MGM’s High Society (1956), was second-division Porter. It hit his characteristic points—the Latin rhythm number in “Mind If I Make Love To You,” the charm song full of syncopation and “wrong” notes in “You’re Sensational.” Porter even turned himself inside out in two numbers for Louis Armstrong, “High Society Calypso” (the Afro-Caribbean anticipation of reggae had just begun to trend in America) and, in duet with Bing Crosby, “Now You Has Jazz.” And the film’s hit, “True Love,” is a waltz so simple neither the vocal nor the chorus has any syncopation whatever. This is smooth Porter, the Tin Pan Alley Porter who wants everyone to like him, even the tourists. Everything about High Society is smooth—to a fault. Armstrong gives it flair, but everyone else is so relaxed he or she might be bantering between acts on a telethon. These are pale replicas of the characters so memorably portrayed in MGM’s first go at this material, The Philadelphia Story, especially by Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. In their first moment, the two are in mid-fight; she breaks his golf clubs and he starts to take a swing at her, recalls himself to manly grace, and simply shoves her self-satisfied mug out of shot. This is not tough love. It’s real anger, and while Philip Barry, who wrote the Broadway Philadelphia Story, is remembered only as a boulevardier, he was in fact a deeply religious writer who interspersed romantic comedies with allegories on the human condition, much as Cole Porter moved between popular and elite composition. Underneath Barry’s Society folderol, provocative relationships undergo scrutiny as if in Christian parable; his characters are likable but worrisome—and, from First Couple Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly on down, there is nothing worrisome in this High Society.

Originating from the Greek δοκεῖν, meaning to seem or to appear, a doxa is a belief so widely held in society that it becomes seemingly self-evident: it requires no explanation and receives no scrutiny.

Government surveillance is a blatant violation of our fundamental right to privacy, an intrusion into the sacred space where personal thoughts and actions unfold. Beyond its legal ramifications, the emotional toll is profound, eroding the very fabric of trust that binds citizens to their government. This unwarranted scrutiny transforms society into a panopticon, where individuals feel perpetually observed, stifling genuine self-expression and fostering an atmosphere of fear. The notion that constant surveillance is necessary for security undermines the principles of democracy, as it sets a dangerous precedent, sacrificing essential liberties in the name of an elusive safety that comes at the cost of our collective freedom.

Government surveillance is an egregious violation of personal autonomy, leaving in its wake not only legal ramifications but a trail of emotional turmoil and shattered trust. The emotional toll on individuals living under constant scrutiny is immeasurable, fostering an environment of anxiety and self-censorship. Trust, a cornerstone of democracy, crumbles when citizens become aware of being surveilled, creating a chasm between the governed and those in power. Historical examples, from McCarthyism to contemporary revelations, underscore the profound consequences of unchecked surveillance, emphasizing the urgency to recognize its unlawfulness and protect the emotional well-being and trust that are integral to the fabric of a free society.

He went through the week cautioning himself with proverbs taught by Eliza, such as “Pride goeth before a fall,” and this spiritual self-scrutiny intensified with his growing wealth.

it encourages its readers to engage in similar acts of self-scrutiny.

I have been an absent father,” the Perfect and Kind says. “Though self, identity, predication, time, fatherhood, and absence are all constructs whose meanings dissolve under scrutiny. There are two levels to every utterance. Do you understand? There is surface, and then there is depth.

Being successful can make you less liked. Finding love can make you more vulnerable. Making yourself less attractive can guard you. Playing small allows you to avoid scrutiny. Procrastinating puts you back in a place of comfort. All the ways in which you are self-sabotaging are actually ways that you are feeding a need you probably do not even realize you have. Overcoming it is not only a matter of learning to understand yourself better, but realizing that your problems are not problems; they are symptoms. You cannot get rid of the coping mechanisms and think you’ve solved the problem.

Self-scrutiny, relentless observance of one’s thoughts, is a stark and shattering experience. It pulverises the stoutest ego. But true self-analysis mathematically operates to produce seers. The way of ‘self-expression,’ individual acknowledgments, results in egotists, sure of the right to their private interpretations of God and the universe.

Take a day off from your own self, wander through the corridors of curiosity, and let the unexpected whispers of existence unveil untold chapters within. Take a day off from your own self, rediscover the world around you, and let the symphony of life compose a new melody for your soul. Take a day off from yourself as well, letting the world unfold without your constant scrutiny. Embrace the liberation of anonymity, allowing the universe to surprise and inspire you anew when you return to your own narrative.

In the silence of a day stripped of sleep and sustenance, I craft "Walking Alone in a Jungle." Immersed in the theatricality of my mind, questions cascade like an endless stream, leaving me suspended between belief and doubt. At times, I defy divine power, embracing logic as my refuge. Yet, within the labyrinth of thought, I query the origin – cosmic expanse or mere creation? Contemplating life's capricious dance, I grapple with control. Do I dictate my orbit, or does an unseen hand choreograph existence's strange waltz? The mystery deepens as virtuous hearts endure misfortune. If a benevolent God exists, why does adversity visit the good-hearted? "Why must a virtuous soul suffer?" echoes the proverb. Does God truly test the best with the toughest trials, or is this notion a construct of the mind? Amidst constant questioning, I navigate self-reflection. Why does positivity, tied to pure intentions, spawn misunderstanding? As day wears on, thoughts flow into a new book, yet answers elude me. Are unanswered questions born of perpetual thought, or does clarity dwell in thought's absence? The 'why' persists, a relentless echo in contemplative caverns. Existence's fabric seems woven with illusion, prompting scrutiny of authenticity. Why doubt the simplicity of truth, where pain persists? After tireless questioning, understanding teases, slipping away like shadows. Is it thought's 'why' constructing an exitless maze, or does enlightenment reside where thought surrenders? I don't know. Sometimes, I think too much or not enough. Stuck in a perpetual cycle, I laugh bitterly. Perhaps, writing holds answers, or stubborn questioning persists. Why?

I’ve watched perfectly normal decisions be cherry-picked for scrutiny, as long as it serves a narrative that reinforces our behavior as self-absorbed, easily distracted, noncommittal, and basement-dwelling. Honestly, joke’s on them; as a true-to-form nonhomeowning millennial, I don’t even find that trope insulting. All I’m thinking is, Damn, your parents have a basement?! That’s awesome.