The inner workings of a man (his values, manner of thinking and worldview) are both contrived and organic. Likewise, they arise both from within and as a response to external stimuli. A man’s inner world can well be compared to a garden – a living collection of individual contributing elements, each at varying stages of maturity, that together produce one whole. I shall revisit this notion later but as much as has been illumined will suffice for the nonce, as my aim with sharing this concept is to introduce Vostak. Vostak is an idea that, representative of my own inner workings, has expanded, transformed and matured with time. Thus, to introduce it properly would be to introduce it chronologically.
Vostak first appeared as a collection of stories thought up by a fifteen-year-old boy. Their interconnectedness was spontaneous rather than deliberate and was more discovered by the boy than intentioned. When he did discover it, he promptly set forth to control and systematize it. This was when the name was created, and the idea was turned into a conscious project.
“Vostak” is a play on the Russian word “Vostok” – East. As much as it would please me to retroactively inject a deeper meaning into the naming process, the truth is that it was a banal indicator of relative location. At its conception, Vostak was a fantasy world. A place to house characters and stories. The principal setting was a continent that, within the understanding of the world’s inhabitants, was as far east as one could go. Hence, the name – Vostak. I will slow to note, however, that just as the idea of Vostak has evolved with time, so has its meaning. In more recent years Vostak has evolved to carry more nuanced philosophical underpinnings than simple geographical direction. It incorporates, now, more emblematic ideas of the East (exempli gratia dawn and new beginnings, light entering the world, orientation toward truth).
The boy whose subconscious spawned Vostak was, coincidentally (or perhaps causally), experiencing a metamorphosis during the time that Vostak came into being. He was departing the unburdened naivete of childhood and experiencing, sharply and viscerally, a crisis of existence as he embarked on a journey into a brave new world. He was thrust simultaneously into a world of culture, philosophy, theology, history, and art and into a world of somatic adolescent vice and vulgarity – in other words, he went to high-school. Within this context, Vostak served as both an escape and a medium for confrontation – a means of wrestling with the self.
At this juncture I step away from the story of Vostak to tell the story of the boy. At age fifteen I entered a two-year period of my life marked by both light and darkness. Light because this was when I developed a true appetite for philosophy and began to examine life. Darkness because I was simultaneously plagued by malicious desires and tortured by existentially nullifying thoughts. I will not tarry here as what is crucial to the story of Vostak is not the manner of my enslavement, but the fact of my emancipation. On July first Anno Domini two thousand fifteen I repented – I turned away from darkness and death to light and life. Since that day I have endeavored, most imperfectly, to multiply in virtue and live in accordance with the universal order laid down at the foundations of this world.
As years went on, Vostak as a fairy world gained stricter form and grew. Maps were drawn, histories were fleshed out, more stories were created. As the boy grew, however, Vostak grew more distant. Time spent reading, writing, playing was replaced with work, education, and eventually family. At a certain point in his early adulthood the boy, or man I should say now, decided to create a blog wherein he could share his stories. It was an honest attempt, but unfruitful. Firstly, because he was married by this point and carried the responsibility of providing for a family. Secondly, because his motives for the blog were commercial in nature, and he found himself bound by constraints not conducive to true creative expression – publishing schedules, social media engagement, commercial viability of content. Thus, for a time, Vostak abode in purgatory.
The man, in contrast to Vostak, was very much alive in the full sense; and, experiencing a gruelling period of maturation. The product was refinement, settling, and clarity. The man found himself, and he found his deepest longing. This now returns us to Vostak, and its true purpose:
To submit worthy contributions to the human discourse.
Vostak is now to be my medium for engaging in the aforementioned discourse. A journal of philosophical and theological essays, as well as of short-form fiction and poetry that explore human existence. This project exists not to earn but to contribute. Therefore, I refuse to be bound by timelines or external conditions (commercial or otherwise). I pledge only this: to be earnest and honest.
Now we can return to the ‘garden.’ Gardens come in all shapes and sizes. Some might be well kept, others wild and untamed. It is the gardener’s duty to tend the garden (the gardener in our case being the self). But what happens if he does not? The ‘Father of Philosophy’ would assert that an un-tended garden is worthless. Socrates famously claimed that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” I would posit that his assertion, examined in a vacuum and judged on its own merit, is wrong.
Socrates made a value judgement based upon the presupposition that value is derived from examination. In other words, he claimed that the act of examining is what imbues a life with value. The un-stated assumption that ties his argument together is that there is causality between examination and worth – if a man examines his life, he will live a life worth living. I categorically disagree.
I am tempted here to posit that what constitutes worth is goodness. That a good life is a life worth living; and, that examination is instrumental rather than conditional to living a good life (Here my garden analogy would be salubrious. Trees produce fruit whether you tend them or not. Many simple, unreflective people live a ‘good life’). I am thoroughly convinced that the latter is true – an examined life is more likely to be good. The former, however, gives me pause because it operates under the assumption that life’s value is extrinsic and not intrinsic. Does a life not have value simply because it is life, benevolence aside? I maintain that it does.
Vita valet quia vivo!
Life is worth living. Whether good or bad, enlightened or vulgar, civilized or bestial, human life carries intrinsic value. If it does not, if its value is merely extrinsic, derived externally from qualifiers and conditions, then every human life is worthless as errare humanum est. We are bound to fail meeting certain qualifiers and conditions. I propose that failure does not constitute loss of value.
A vigilant reader will note that my position can only hold if the following presuppositions are true: that there is a universal measure of value derivative of a universal order, which emanates from a cosmic authority; and, that human life holds value within the universal order. This is true. I stand firm on this belief and virtually all of my philosophy is built upon it. I will endeavor, within this journal, to defend this position and to counter those opposed to it. Casus belli – redemption.
All of this brings us back, once again, to the garden. Perhaps a garden can be fruitful without being tended, but it certainly helps to tend it nonetheless. Whether it is conditional to living a good life or merely instrumental, examination is certainly desirable – and that is the purpose of this journal. To examine life and goodness and to aspire ever so imperfectly to summum bonum.
Vostak 