Giving A Print With Every Book

A Gift with Every Book: A Signed “Deer Antlers” Print

I’ve decided to include a special gift with every copy of In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: a fine art print (copy) of Deer Antlers. You’ll find the original image on page 234 of the book—and it’s also the cover image. The original is a palladium print from a whole-plate wet collodion negative.

Let me be clear: this isn’t a palladium print. It’s a high-quality book print. It’s printed on 300-pound paper, produced by Mixam (the same company that printed the book). It’s an 8” x 10” print. That said, I was genuinely impressed when I saw the final result. The tones, the texture, the presence—it surprised me. It’s not the original, but it holds up.

The image means a lot to me personally. The antlers were found on my property in Colorado. The vessel they rest in was crafted by Ute artist L. Posey. But beyond that, the image carries a deeper symbolic weight in the context of the book.

Peter Wessel Zapffe’s essay The Last Messiah tells the story of a prehistoric giant elk whose antlers grew so massive, they ultimately pinned its head to the ground—leading to the species’ extinction. Zapffe saw the animal as a metaphor for human consciousness: our awareness of death, our tragic over-evolution of mind. The antlers became too heavy to carry.

That’s what this image is about. You’ll read more about it in the book.

So, with every book, you’ll get this print—a small artifact tied to a larger meditation on memory, death, and what it means to live with the knowledge of our own ending.

Revisiting Peter Wessel Zapffe and The Last Messiah (1933)

There are several figures in history that I believe are worth a second or third look concerning death anxiety and creativity.

Peter Wessel Zapffe is one of them.

He was a Norwegian pessimistic philosopher who wrote the essay The Last Messiah (1933).

Zapffe was born in 1899 in Tromsø Municipality, Norway. He died in 1990. He was 90 years old. He loved mountain climbing and photography. Norway has archived thousands of his images. He practiced law for several years as well.

It’s not a stretch to say he was an existential nihilist as well as a pessimistic philosopher. He had some very profound ideas about consciousness, death anxiety, and human behavior. Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1860), a German pessimistic philosopher, had a significant influence on him. Heidegger, Kierkegaard, and Nietzsche all had an indirect influence on him.

I’m going to start with a quote from the ending of the essay:

Peter Wessel Zapffe

"The life of the worlds is a roaring river, but Earth's is a pond and backwater.
The sign of doom is written on your brows—how long will you kick against the pinpricks?
But there is one conquest and one crown, one redemption and one solution.
Know yourselves—be infertile and let the earth be silent after you."
Peter Zapffe, The Last Messiah

Let’s break this down.

"The life of the worlds is a roaring river, but Earth's is a pond and backwater."
This suggests a contrast between the larger, cosmic scale of existence ("roaring river") and the small, stagnant, and insignificant nature of life on Earth ("pond and backwater"). Zapffe often emphasized the insignificance of human life in the grand scheme of the universe.

"The sign of doom is written on your brows—how long will you kick against the pinpricks?"
The "sign of doom" portends destruction or meaninglessness for humanity. The phrase "kick against the pinpricks" refers to resisting inevitable suffering or unpleasant truths. Zapffe sees human life as an ongoing struggle against harsh realities, particularly the knowledge of death and meaninglessness.

"But there is one conquest and one crown, one redemption and one solution."
This line is somewhat paradoxical, as it suggests there is only one way to overcome the human predicament—through acceptance of a particular truth, which Zapffe reveals next.

"Know yourselves—be infertile and let the earth be silent after you."
Zapffe advocates for antinatalism—the idea that human reproduction perpetuates suffering. By choosing not to reproduce ("be infertile"), he suggests humanity can escape the cycle of suffering and allow the Earth to "be silent," essentially ending the human race as a way to cease the existential pain.

Zapffe's philosophy is deeply pessimistic, rooted in the idea that human consciousness leads to an awareness of life's absurdity, and the only way to mitigate this is by halting the cycle of suffering through non-procreation. This is in direct opposition to our “survival and reproduction” instincts. He would call those primal and animal like (no knowledge of suffering, meaninglessness, and dying.)

Cosmic Panic

His concept of "cosmic panic" refers to the overwhelming existential terror that arises when humans become fully aware of their position in the universe—namely, the realization of life’s inherent meaninglessness, the inevitability of death, and the apparent indifference of the cosmos. This moment of panic is more than just fear; it's a profound, paralyzing dread that emerges from our awareness of existential truths.

For Zapffe, "cosmic panic" is a direct consequence of human consciousness. While other animals live instinctively and without awareness of their mortality or the broader cosmos, humans are burdened with a level of self-awareness that allows us to comprehend our finite existence. This awareness can lead to a deep sense of horror as we confront questions of purpose and the randomness of life.

To avoid this state of cosmic panic, Zapffe believed that humans instinctively employ various coping mechanisms (see below; isolation, anchoring, distraction, and sublimation) to suppress the terror of existential awareness. Without these defenses, he argued, we would be left to confront the full weight of our existential insignificance, a confrontation so destabilizing that it would lead many to despair.

The Coping Mechanisms Used to Buffer Death Anxiety and Get Through Life

I’m most interested in his coping mechanisms for death anxiety. They are very much in line with Ernest Becker. I often wonder if Becker read Zapffe. I bet he did. Zapffe describes four coping mechanisms people use to deal with the painful awareness of life’s absurdity and the inevitability of death. He argues that human consciousness and self-awareness bring a unique existential burden, which we struggle to endure. To address this, he identifies four key methods we use to suppress our awareness of life's tragic nature:

Isolation
Isolation involves consciously suppressing disturbing thoughts or situations that remind us of life's inherent meaninglessness. By avoiding or ignoring thoughts of mortality or deep existential fears, we keep ourselves from confronting uncomfortable truths.

Anchoring
Anchoring refers to creating or clinging to a framework of meaning that gives us stability in life. This might include religious beliefs, cultural norms, or personal goals that provide a sense of purpose or direction. By attaching ourselves to a specific ideology or worldview, we prevent our minds from drifting into despair.

Distraction
Distraction is the practice of diverting attention from troubling existential concerns through various forms of engagement. People often use work, entertainment, social activities, or even compulsive behaviors to avoid deep reflection on life’s deeper, often unsettling questions.

Sublimation
Sublimation is the process of channeling existential anxieties into creative or intellectual pursuits—I use this all of the time. Rather than confronting death anxiety head-on, individuals may transform these concerns into artistic, philosophical, or scientific work. By doing so, they engage with the darker aspects of existence in ways that feel productive and meaningful.

He believed these mechanisms were essentially defense strategies, helping us cope with existential dread and the awareness of our limitations. He maintained, however, that these methods could only provide temporary relief, as the underlying truths remain, inevitably surfacing throughout our lives. Becker said the same thing essentially. There's no escaping the world as it is all of the time, only temporary relief.

Check out this video: “Peter Wessel Zapffe: The Norwegian Existentialist.” Tim Oseckas addressing the Existentialist Society in September 2024. Tim did a great job here. It was a pleasure listening to his research on Zapffe. Thank you, Tim!

The Irish Elk Story

And the final idea I want to address is his story about the Irish elk—he said, "certain deer in paleontological times succumbed as they acquired overly-heavy horns." This story was very profound to me when I first read it, and it has been in my head ever since.

He uses the Irish elk as a metaphor to illustrate the self-destructive consequences of evolution unchecked by pragmatic limits. The Irish elk, now extinct, had massive antlers, which grew to such an extreme size that they eventually became a liability. Though the antlers helped attract mates, they became a burden in the elk’s environment; they were cumbersome, made movement difficult, and ultimately contributed to the species' extinction as they hindered survival.

“Deer Antlers,” 2022—my tribute to Zapffe’s philosophy on our overabundance of consciousness.

Zapffe draws a parallel between the Irish elk's oversized antlers and the human consciousness (being aware of mortality). Just as the elk’s antlers became an evolutionary overdevelopment with disastrous results, Zapffe argues that human self-awareness—our ability to reflect on life’s meaning, confront death, and ponder the universe—has led to a psychological burden we are poorly equipped to bear. This consciousness, in Zapffe’s view, is an evolutionary trait that goes beyond practical needs, creating existential dilemmas that provoke anxiety, dread, and despair.

In essence, Zapffe suggests that consciousness, like the elk’s antlers, is an overextension of evolution that, while beneficial in some respects, also leads to suffering and potentially self-destructive behaviors.

Peter Wessel Zapfee making photographs.

Peter Wessel Zapfee photograph.

Shaping Objects With Light and Making Ideas Real

Art gives us the ability to create ideas and physically manifest them. Think about that: the ability to make something that exists only as a thought or an idea. That is mind-twisting! In my opinion, it’s a good definition of the word magic. See Becker’s quote below.

“Man has “a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity, who can place himself imaginatively at a point in space and contemplate bemusedly his own planet. This immense expansion, this dexterity, this ethereality, this self-consciousness gives to man literally the status of a small god in nature... Yet, at the same time... man is a worm and food for worms.”

— Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death

It can be any form of expression—writing, sculpting, painting, music, photography, etc. Something that engages one or several of our senses. When I was young—10 or 12 years old—I wanted to be a figure sculptor. I got very interested in wax as a material. I visited a wax museum in Orlando, Florida, and I believe it was converted to Madame Tussauds a few years ago.

I was hooked. It was something about seeing the human figure re-created in such a way that you could really study it—almost feel its presence. There were Star Trek figures there; that’s what got me. I had my Polaroid portrait made with Spock. I still have that picture. It moved me tremendously.

One of my favorite things to do is use light to shape objects and bring out the essence of what they are or could be. So many people simply expose a picture and hope for the best. I think that takes so much of the creativity away. It turns creating something into a mechanical exercise.

“Deer Antlers in Ute Pot: Print #2,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print August 5, 2023

"The tragedy of a species becoming unfit for life by over-evolving one ability is not confined to humankind. Thus, it is thought, for instance, that certain deer in paleontological times succumbed as they acquired overly-heavy horns. The mutations must be considered blind; they work and are thrown forth without any contact of interest with their environment. In depressive states, the mind may be seen in the image of such an antler, in all its fantastic splendor, pinning its bearer to the ground."

Peter Zapffe, The Last Messiah

The species of deer that Zapffe has in mind is the Irish elk (Megaloceros giganteus), which thrived throughout Eurasia during the ecological epoch known as the Pleistocene (2.6 million to 11,700 years ago). The Irish elk had the largest antlers of any known deer, with a maximum span of 3.65 meters. Historically, the explanation given for the extinction of the Irish elk was that its antlers grew too large: the animals could no longer hold up their heads or feed properly; their antlers, according to this explanation, would also get entangled in trees, such as when trying to flee human hunters through forests.

A surplus of consciousness and intellect is the default state of affairs for the human species, although unlike the case of the deer that Zapffe alludes to, we have been able to save ourselves from going extinct. Zapffe posits that humans have come to cope and survive by repressing this surplus of consciousness. Without restricting our consciousness, Zapffe believed the human being would fall into “a state of relentless panic” or a ‘feeling of cosmic panic’, as he puts it. This follows a person’s realization that “[h]e is the universe’s helpless captive”; it comes from truly understanding the human predicament. In the 1990 documentary To Be a Human Being, he stated:

"Man is a tragic animal. Not because of his smallness, but because he is too well endowed. Man has longings and spiritual demands that reality cannot fulfill. We have expectations of a just and moral world. Man requires meaning in a meaningless world."

The Irish elk (Megaloceros giganteus), which thrived throughout Eurasia during the ecological epoch known as the Pleistocene (2.6 million to 11,700 years ago). The Irish elk had the largest antlers of any known deer, with a maximum span of 3.65 meters.

The Last Messiah by Peter Wessel Zapffe (1933)

“The Last Messiah” by Peter Wessel Zapffe: An Overview and Analysis

Peter Wessel Zapffe - 1899-1990 Norwegian Pessimistic Philosopher

I encourage you to download the essay and read it, then come back to this analysis. It will put everything into context.

The Norwegian philosopher Peter Wessel Zapffe is little-known to most Anglophone readers. He was greatly inspired by Arthur Schopenhauer and has been called one of the “bleakest thinkers of all times and places.” Zapffe was also an avid mountaineer and a friend of fellow Norwegian philosopher—and originator of deep ecology—Arne Næss. His only major work is his doctoral dissertation, On the Tragic (1941), which has never been translated into any other language, although an English translation is currently in the works. Justin Weinberg, writing for Daily Nous, says that On the Tragic is “an achievement that alone ranks him as one of the most original and incisive thinkers of the past century.” Fortunately, though, we can familiarize ourselves with some of the themes and ideas expressed in this work through a short essay that Zapffe wrote, one of his few works to ever be translated into English.

"The Last Messiah" is a 1933 essay that encapsulates Zapffe’s view on the human condition and stands out as an important work in the sphere of philosophical pessimism. The views expressed can be classified as a kind of evolutionary existentialism in that Zapffe propounds a view on the nature of human existence that incorporates an evolutionary perspective. "The Last Messiah" summarizes the thoughts that Zapffe would later express in On the Tragic. The horror writer Thomas Ligotti also frequently references Zapffe’s essay in his pessimistic nonfiction work The Conspiracy Against the Human Race: A Contrivance of Horror (2010).

Zapffe’s Analysis of the Human Condition in "The Last Messiah"

For Zapffe, existential angst, despair, and depression are due to our overly evolved intellect. He believed — as he argues in "The Last Messiah"—that we have an overabundance of consciousness, we essentially think too much for our own good. He refers to the human being as “a biological paradox, an abomination, an absurdity, an exaggeration of disastrous nature.” Rust Cohle, a nihilistic character in the series True Detective, expresses the same view: "I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution."

“Man beholds the earth, and it is breathing like a great lung; whenever it exhales, delightful life swarms from all its pores and reaches out toward the sun, but when it inhales, a moan of rupture passes through the multitude, and corpses whip the ground like bouts of hail.”

— Peter Zapffe, The Last Messiah

In his essay, Zapffe goes on to say that we are a species that “had been armed too heavily”—for after all, what animal needs to be aware of its own mortality, or needs to be so prone to anxiety? For Zapffe, our becoming mentally over-equipped has resulted in us becoming “fearful of life itself,” of our “very being." The degree to which we are conscious of reality, which is unlike any other species, also means that we have become acutely aware of the suffering of billions of people and sentient life on the planet. Aldous Huxley, in his novel Chrome Yellow (1921), wrote:

If one had an imagination vivid enough and a sympathy sufficiently sensitive to comprehend and feel the sufferings of other people, one would never have a moment’s peace of mind.

Zapffe's point is that our imagination is so naturally vivid that we can't help but let "the suffering of human billions" enter our awareness through the "gateway of compassion." And such a clear-eyed view of reality is overwhelming. In a rather evocative passage, Zapffe writes:

The tragedy of a species becoming unfit for life by overevolving one ability is not confined to humankind. Thus, it is thought, for instance, that certain deer in paleontological times succumbed as they acquired overly-heavy horns. The mutations must be considered blind; they work and are thrown forth without any contact of interest with their environment. In depressive states, the mind may be seen in the image of such an antler, in all its fantastic splendor, pinning its bearer to the ground.

The species of deer that Zapffe has in mind is the Irish elk (Megaloceros giganteus), which thrived throughout Eurasia during the ecological epoch known as the Pleistocene (2.6 million to 11,700 years ago). The Irish elk had the largest antlers of any known deer, with a maximum span of 3.65 meters. Historically, the explanation given for the extinction of the Irish elk was that its antlers grew too large: the animals could no longer hold up their heads or feed properly—their antlers, according to this explanation, would also get entangled in trees, such as when trying to flee human hunters through forests. However, according to some researchers, the large antlers of the Irish elk may have had little to do with the extinction of the species. Yet regardless of whether the Irish elk's antlers did, indeed, weigh these creatures down, Zapffe's analogy is still illuminating in its own right.

A surplus of consciousness and intellect is the default state of affairs for the human species, although unlike the case of the deer that Zapffe alludes to, we have been able to save ourselves from going extinct. Zapffe posits that humans have come to cope and survive by repressing this surplus of consciousness. Without restricting our consciousness, Zapffe believed the human being would fall into “a state of relentless panic” or a ‘feeling of cosmic panic’, as he puts it. This follows a person’s realization that “[h]e is the universe’s helpless captive”; it comes from truly understanding the human predicament. In the 1990 documentary To Be a Human Being, he stated:

Man is a tragic animal. Not because of his smallness, but because he is too well endowed. Man has longings and spiritual demands that reality cannot fulfill. We have expectations of a just and moral world. Man requires meaning in a meaningless world.

“Daisies, Ponderosa Pine, and Stones (detail),” June 6, 2023 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Color Reversal Print (made in camera, a direct positive, no negative)

Coping Mechanisms

In "The Last Messiah," Zapffe postulates four main methods humans have used for limiting the contents of their consciousness, including:

Isolation, which involves “a fully arbitrary dismissal from consciousness of all disturbing and destructive thought and feeling,” It is an avoidance of thinking about the human condition and the terrible truths that Zapffe believes this entails. He also describes the technique of isolation by quoting a certain "Engstrom," whose identity remains uncertain: “One should not think, it is just confusing.”

Anchoring involves the “fixation of points within, or construction of walls around, the liquid fray of consciousness.” This requires that we consistently focus our attention on a value or ideal (the examples Zapffe gives include "God, the Church, the State, morality, fate, the laws of life, the people, and the future”).

Distraction, which is when “one limits attention to the critical bounds by constantly enthralling it with impressions," prevents the mind from examining itself and becoming aware of the tragedy of human existence. It is easy to think of how we, in modern times, incessantly distract ourselves with external stimulation; some examples Zapffe gives include entertainment, sport, and radio.

Sublimation, which Zapffe calls “a matter of transformation rather than repression,” It involves turning “the very pain of living” into “valuable experiences.” He continues: “Positive impulses engage the evil and put it to their own ends, fastening onto its pictorial, dramatic, heroic, lyric, or even comic aspects.” He also notes that the essay "The Last Messiah" itself is an attempt at such sublimation. For Zapffe, sublimation is “the rarest of protective mechanisms." Most people can limit the contents of their consciousness using the previous three mechanisms, staving off existential angst and world-weariness. But when these forms of repression fail and the tragic cannot be ignored, sublimation offers a remedy, a way of turning the unignorable “pain of living” into creative, positive, and aesthetically valuable works.

Is There No Room for Joy?

Comparisons have been made between Zapffe’s views on the human condition and sublimation to the thought of Friedrich Nietzsche. In The Gay Science (1882), Nietzsche writes: “Higher human beings distinguish themselves from the lower by seeing and hearing, and thoughtfully seeing and hearing, immeasurably more”. But this higher degree of sensitivity, of looking deeply into life, results in suffering. In The Birth of Tragedy (1872), Nietzsche, like Zapffe, defends the remedial effects of art: “The truly serious task of art…[is] to save the eye from gazing into the horrors of night and to deliver the subject by the healing balm of illusion from the spasms of the agitations of the will.”

When the first three repression techniques outline by Zapffe fail, which they do for a minority of people, then creative expression may be the only available means of coping with the “horrors of night," as Nietzsche put it. Arguably, the rarity of sublimation helps to explain why geniuses are also rare, as creative work is often the only saving grace for those people deeply attuned to the fullness of the human predicament. In the words of Aristotle: “No great genius has ever existed without a touch of madness.” Elsewhere Aristotle stated: “Those who have become eminent in philosophy, politics, poetry, and the arts have all had tendencies toward melancholia.” Many studies have indeed found links between psychopathology and creativity, with many such studies discussed in Dean Keith Simonton’s book Origins of Genius (1999).

To save oneself from becoming overwhelmed, panicked, and despondent, creative work acts as a protective mechanism, as Zapffe argues, although such creative expression may be regarded as more valuable than simply protection against consciousness; it can be thought of as providing the very meaning that people yearn for, which Zapffe believes is unobtainable. Nietzsche, for instance, maintained that “To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.” The psychiatrist Viktor Frankl also echoed the view that meaning can be found in our relationship to suffering. It is possible to transcend the sense of meaningless and hopelessness we have by creating something genuinely valuable and meaningful.

Here we can make a distinction between cosmic nihilism, which paints the universe as inherently meaningless and terrestrial nihilism, which treats all of human life and activity as meaningless. Even pessimistic philosophers such as David Benatar concede that human life can be meaningful. We don’t have to fall into terrestrial nihilism, as well as cosmic nihilism. By advancing meaning in terrestrial, human affairs, the panic that Zapffe alludes to may only hold true when we take the cosmic perspective. Furthermore, if meaning can be found in transforming one’s own suffering or that of others, then this could entail actions that go beyond sublimation. There seems to be discoverable meaning for people — such as being of service to others or serving something bigger than oneself — that could be defined as an intrinsic part of the human condition, rather than a way of escaping the human condition.

On Zapffe’s point that our surplus of consciousness is to blame for the unique experience of existential angst and depression, I think it could be equally claimed that this surplus also enables converse feelings of existential joy. Of course, it can be disputed as to whether the existential angst is what comes more easily, but at least in cases of rarefied genius, so those people who cannot repress consciousness like the majority do, there is often a great capacity for joy, as well as sorrow. This seems to hinge on these people’s sensitivity to the totality of one’s individual consciousness, the human condition in general, and the world at large. Thus, just as despair can accompany any ordinary day, in solitude with one’s mind, so can ecstasy. One becomes open to the wide range of human experience and emotion, and privy to its depths and intensities.

As a case in point, Nietzsche experienced extreme states of suffering, both physical and psychological in nature, and focused much of his work on the problem of human suffering; but Nietzsche nonetheless seemed open to intense joys as well. He writes:

The intensities of my feeling make me shudder and laugh; several times I could not leave the room for the ridiculous reason that my eyes were inflamed — from what? Each time, I had wept too much on my previous day’s walk, not sentimental tears but tears of joy; I sang and talked nonsense, filled with a glimpse of things which put me in advance of all other men.

In the preface to The Gay Science, he also spoke of the elation and hopefulness that can follow a confrontation with suffering:

This book might need more than one preface; and in the end there would still be room for doubting whether someone who has not experienced something similar could, by means of prefaces, be brought closer to the experience of this book. It seems to be written in the language of the wind that brings a thaw: it contains high spirits, unrest, contradiction, and April weather, so that one is constantly reminded of winter’s nearness as well as of the triumph over winter that is coming, must come, perhaps has already come. . . Gratitude flows forth incessantly, as if that which was most unexpected had just happened — the gratitude of a convalescent — for recovery was what was most unexpected. "Gay Science": this signifies saturnalia of a mind that has patiently resisted a terrible, long pressure — patiently, severely, coldly, without yielding, but also without hope — and is now all of a sudden attacked by hope, by hope for health, by the intoxication of recovery. Is it any wonder that in the process much that is unreasonable and foolish comes to light, much wanton tenderness, lavished even on problems that have a prickly hide, not made to be fondled and lured? This entire book is really nothing but an amusement after long privation and powerlessness, the jubilation of returning strength, of a reawakened faith in a tomorrow and a day after tomorrow, of a sudden sense and anticipation of a future, of impending adventures, of reopened seas, of goals that are permitted and believed in again.

“Flowering Ponderosa Pine,” June 6, 2023 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4cm) RA-4 Color Reversal Print (made in camera, a direct positive, no negative)

On Zapffe’s Evolutionary Existentialism

While the argument could be made that Zapffe is perhaps unduly pessimistic in his outlook, I do think he delivers a keen insight into the human condition by focusing on the evolutionary perspective. It seems clear that our biological, evolutionary imperatives do not always closely align with human well-being and, at least on some accounts, such imperatives seem diametrically opposed to our happiness. For example, in Buddhism, craving is cast as the root of human suffering, yet craving serves a crucial biological and evolutionary function; it makes us constantly feel unsatisfied with what is, projecting satisfaction on what could be, causing us to constantly strive, but never gaining lasting satisfaction, only temporary satisfaction. But this treadmill of desire is what keeps us motivated to survive and reproduce.

Zapffe refers to the human organism as a “biological paradox,” but actually, I think while his analysis of the human condition may hold true, it is not so hard to see why the human intellect is as it is, even if it leads to the unique human experience of existential angst. Evolutionary trade-offs are commonplace. There are countless examples of where an advantageous change in one trait leads to a disadvantageous change in another trait. In the case of humans, we can easily see that our degree of intellect as advantageous in a strictly biological context, but at the same time we can say that we have too much intellect and awareness, that it makes us prone to a wide spectrum of negative states, from rumination to horrific despair.

However, in evolutionary terms, we might posit that the benefits of our highly (or overly) evolved intellect outweigh the downsides, even if experientially, for the individual, those downsides entail existential panic and an indefatigable kind of discomfort. Zapffe notes, however, that most people avoid the real horrors of seeing the human predicament clearly, with “[p]ure example of life-panic [being] presumably rare.” This is because “the protective mechanisms are refined and automatic and to some extent unremitting.” Evolution is not a perfect system of design, so even if the protective mechanisms don’t successfully work for all individuals or don’t work all the time, with life-panic sometimes rising to the surface, our overly evolved intellect is nevertheless beneficial overall, within a strictly evolutionary framework. So long as we have the four repressional techniques in place, working for most people most of the time, it seems the human species can avoid extinction.

Thus, the human situation is unique, undoubtedly, but I would not necessarily view it as paradoxical from an evolutionary perspective, although it is paradoxical in the sense that, as a consequence of biological evolution, we have the intellectual capacity to question life itself and even reject it, a capacity absent from members of any other species, who we presume are merely directed by biological impulses, without protest or question.

Zapffe’s other characterization of the species as an “absurdity” is probably quite apt. It certainly fits in with Albert Camus’ description of the human condition in The Myth of Sisyphus, in which Camus analogizes human life with that of the king Sisyphus, who in Greek mythology was said to have been punished by Zeus for his self-aggrandizement and forced to eternally roll a giant boulder up a hill, watch it roll down, and then have to roll it up again. For Camus, human life is comparable to this absurd activity, in that our condition and the world do not meet our desires: we want meaning, a fundamental reason for our existence, but we are unable to find such a meaning or purpose. This is a point that Zapffe also underscores. The boulder is the meaning we try to construct (be it scientific, metaphysical, or religious), but they inevitably fail to meet our need for meaning (according to Camus, anyway), and this causes us to construct another meaning, with the process repeating itself, like in the case of Sisyphus.

One potential criticism I would level against Zapffe’s "The Last Messiah" essay is that the mind may already — naturally — repress consciousness, without any artificial methods of repression in place. This is known as the "reducing valve theory" of the mind, expounded by philosophers such as Henri Bergson and C.D. Broad, and then later popularized by Aldous Huxley in The Doors of Perception (1954). This theory also appears to be with more modern research on human consciousness. For example, research has demonstrated that the human brain has evolved a large-scale network — called the default mode network (DMN) — that represses consciousness, to limit the amount of information reaching conscious awareness. Thus, the repression of consciousness seems to be biological and inbuilt, and not just artificial, as Zapffe argues.

More importantly, however, if you disable this repressional capacity of the brain, which occurs under the influence of psychedelics, this results in even more information becoming available to our awareness, an even greater abundance of consciousness. Under Zapffe’s assumptions, this would nail us down to the ground even more powerfully. Yet increased depression is not what is seen when this happens. Instead, the opposite often occurs. Such antidepressant effects can also be maintained in the long-term.

This might not be a knock-down argument against Zapffe’s main point, of course, since you might want to counter and say that the psychedelic state is but another way of fighting the default, unpleasant state of human consciousness, along with the four repressional techniques that Zapffe outlines. However, I think this research does seem to point to the fact that human consciousness is not always imprisoning and that there is the possibility of having a surplus of consciousness without falling into existential panic, even in the absence of repressional techniques.

Antinatalism in "The Last Messiah"

Based on his rather bleak diagnosis of the human species, Zapffe puts forward his notion of "the last messiah": “[a] man who has fathomed life and its cosmic ground, and whose pain is the Earth’s collective pain.” Such a messiah would, in Zapffe’s mind, cause outrage among the general public, with passionate calls made for his death, just as in the case of other messiahs. But the vital message of this last messiah is starkly different from those messiahs preceding him; in fact, whereas most messiahs have life-affirming messages, this last messiah has a life-denying one: “Know yourselves — be infertile, and let the earth be silent after ye.” This is the best solution available to us, according to Zapffe.

Such a view is a proclamation of antinatalism, a philosophy that recommends we desist from procreation, also professed by philosophers such as Emil Cioran. It is certainly antithetical to the more pronatalist values found in the Bible, such as when God declared to humanity: “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28). Zapffe’s antinatalist philosophy is also succinctly summed up in his statement: “To bear children into this world is like carrying wood to a burning house.” Zapffe took antinatalism seriously and remained childless throughout his life. Elsewhere, he said:

In accordance with my conception of life, I have chosen not to bring children into the world. A coin is examined, and only after careful deliberation, given to a beggar, whereas a child is flung out into the cosmic brutality without hesitation.

Zapffe, as we can see, takes an extremely pessimistic view of the human condition. In many people’s eyes, it may be too pessimistic to be considered realistic, which is what most philosophical pessimists aim for in their thought. Zapffe’s evolutionary existentialism could also be accurate, yet still narrow in excluding the joyous mode of being available to us, which can remain even after we reject all of the repressional techniques that Zapffe describes. Perhaps existential panic comes easily, but this does not mean existential joy is always out of reach. After all, our abundance of consciousness — our level of self-awareness — also gives us the unique capacity to rejoice about our existence.

I found this article by Sam Woolfe on partially examined life. I did edit it, but I left the main ideas in tact.

What Will They Think?

Every day, I find myself exploring questions that I never had time to deeply consider before. In the quiet moments, which are few and far between in the modern world, the big questions are only briefly on our minds, and we move on. We never discuss them or have time to deeply think about them.

I was always too busy, distracted, and “tranquilizing with the trivial.” I wasn’t any different than most people. I tried to fight through it by making art and occasionally inquiring about the big questions. I was successful at times, but the culturally constructed life consumed most of my thoughts and actions; mere survival (my relationships, my financial life, paying the bills, my job, my career) always took precedence and walled me off from the bigger life and death questions.

I was constantly trying to fulfill my social role and bolster my self-esteem, like most people do (like culturally constructed meat puppets). Now, I’m afforded time—time that I’ve never had before. I rarely pay attention to the time of day or day of the week. Most of the time, I get up with the sun and go to bed when it’s dark. I lose track of time working in my darkroom and studio.

“The more powerful and original a mind, the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude.”

— Aldous Huxley

What a gift it is to live among the black bears, mountain lions, and wild turkeys! I walk in nature every day under and beside the big Ponderosa Pine, Douglas Fir, and Aspen trees with Jeanne (or every chance I get, weather permitting). I get to see the beautiful mountains and landscape, the wildlife, and breathe fresh mountain air. To see the red-tailed hawks soaring over the mountains, the bluejays gathering food, and the hummingbirds getting busy for summer is a beautiful thing.

I live a life infused with peace, quiet, and solitude. What freedom! I’ve never really experienced those things before, and I am beyond grateful to have them. It’s radically changed me for the better. I’m closer to living an authentic life than I’ve ever been before. It’s a process, but I’m aware of it and working on it. The first step to change and improvement is to recognize what’s wrong.

Time can be a dangerous thing to have. If people could spend a few months without the hustle and bustle of being a culturally constructed meat puppet, they would begin to become self-aware. They would begin focusing on the important things and devoting their time and energy to them. Self-awareness leads to understanding and the strength to face uncomfortable ideas and make changes. Our culture doesn’t want us to do that. They want us preoccupied with conspicuous consumption, shopping, alcohol, drugs, fashion, pursuing wealth and popularity, and all of the other malignant ways we use to buffer our existential anxiety.

With time to deeply think about what it means to be human, face mortality, and ponder meaning and significance in your life, you learn how tiny you are and how finite and meaningless (cosmically speaking) you are. You can start to grasp the implications of knowing that you will die and be forgotten. You deal with impermanence and insignificance in a healthy, life-affirming way, not in a death-denying, destructive way (like a meat puppet).

You begin to see humility as a great asset and understand how gratitude will buttress existential terror. You’re in awe of life every day. I’m learning this now. We live in a death-denying culture. I’m doing my very best, through my photographic work, my writing, and these essays, to unpack what it means to come to terms with mortality and be an authentic man.

“Seeded Mullein and Antlers” May 16, 2023, 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25.4 cm) (Made in camera, no negative) RA-4 Reversal Color Direct Print-Mullein is a relaxing, calming smoke that soothes the lungs and opens up air passageways. It’s smooth smoking with a mild flavor and aroma; it is a profound respiratory tonic that opens the lungs and softens coughs, soothes irritation, and reduces dryness. Antlers were used by Native Americans in many ways, including pipes.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about our need for symbolic immortality. Ernest Becker called these efforts “immortality projects.” I can relate to this need and this desire, all while knowing that it’s a fool’s errand to pursue. What will people think of me in a hundred or a thousand years? What will they think of my work? The answer is they won’t and nothing.

However, the work we do or the projects we pursue fulfill a greater purpose. They give our lives meaning and significance. That’s extremely important. It is all ephemeral and means nothing in the cosmic scheme of things. It’s absolutely meaningless that way. As an artist, it’s my way of keeping death anxiety at bay.

Acknowledging this fact has made me even more interested in making pictures and writing about our existence as people living with death anxiety. It’s brought me joy and made me happy. I want to live with the fact that what I do is meaningful in buffering my own death anxiety; it’s my terror management, but I want to embrace its cosmic meaninglessness without having fear or dread.

Peter Zapffe called it sublimation. In his essay “The Last Messiah,” he said, “The fourth remedy against panic, sublimation, is a matter of transformation rather than repression. Through stylistic or artistic gifts can the very pain of living at times be converted into valuable experiences. Positive impulses engage the evil and put it to their own ends, fastening onto its pictorial, dramatic, heroic, lyric or even comic aspects.”

He suggests that sublimation involves transforming one's pain, suffering, and anxiety into something positive and valuable through artistic or stylistic expression.

Rather than simply repressing or denying their existential terror, individuals can channel it into creative works such as art, literature, music, or poetry. This can give their suffering meaning and purpose, as well as offer a sense of catharsis or release. By engaging with the darker aspects of life in a creative way, individuals can transform their pain into something that is not only bearable but even beautiful or inspiring.

Zapffe notes that this approach requires a certain level of skill and talent in the arts but suggests that anyone can benefit from engaging with creative expression in some way. By finding ways to channel their pain and suffering into something productive and meaningful, individuals can confront the difficult aspects of existence in a way that is both honest and life-affirming.

I’ve embedded the trailer for the film “Flight from Death: The Quest for Immortality” below. I highly encourage you to see this film. On Saturday, May 20, 2023, I'll be attending an online symposium called “Ernest Becker, Terror Management Theory, and Death Acceptance: An Online Symposium Celebrating 50 Years of The Denial of Death, With Caitlin Doughty & Sheldon Solomon.” There are a lot of great speakers, and I’m excited to hear about new ideas and expound on existing theories. The gentleman who made the film “Flight from Death: The Quest for Immortality” will be speaking. Also, he’ll be releasing a biopic on Ernest Becker later this year. That’s exciting news for me!

“When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I’m feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I’m feeling sad, it’s my consolation. When I’m feeling happy, it’s part of why I feel that way.
If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget, part of who I am will be gone.”

— Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark: A Doubter's Dictionary

“Seeded Mullein - Detail)” May 16, 2023, 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25.4 cm) (Made in camera, no negative) RA-4 Reversal Color Direct Print.

“ANTIDOTES TO FEAR OF DEATH

Sometimes as an antidote
To fear of death,
I eat the stars.

Those nights, lying on my back,
I suck them from the quenching dark
Til they are all, all inside me,
Pepper hot and sharp.

Sometimes, instead, I stir myself
Into a universe still young,
Still warm as blood:

No outer space, just space,
The light of all the not yet stars
Drifting like a bright mist,
And all of us, and everything
Already there
But unconstrained by form.

And sometime it’s enough
To lie down here on earth
Beside our long ancestral bones:

To walk across the cobble fields
Of our discarded skulls,
Each like a treasure, like a chrysalis,
Thinking: whatever left these husks
Flew off on bright wings.”

— Rebecca Elson

The Last Messiah - Peter Zapffe

“One night in long bygone times, man awoke and saw himself.

He saw that he was naked under cosmos, homeless in his own body. All things dissolved before his testing thought, wonder above wonder, horror above horror unfolded in his mind.

Then woman too awoke and said it was time to go and slay. And he fetched his bow and arrow, a fruit of the marriage of spirit and hand, and went outside beneath the stars. But as the beasts arrived at their waterholes where he expected them of habit, he felt no more the tiger’s bound in his blood, but a great psalm about the brotherhood of suffering between everything alive.

That day he did not return with prey, and when they found him by the next new moon, he was sitting dead by the waterhole.”

— The Last Messiah - Peter Zapffe

Peter Zapffe was a Norwegian philosopher and writer. In this passage, he describes the existential crisis of humanity and the realization of our place in the cosmos. It reflects on the moment when early humans, represented by "man," became self-aware and conscious of their own existence.

Initially, man is depicted as naked and homeless, symbolizing a sense of vulnerability and a lack of purpose in the vastness of the universe. However, man's "testing thought," or his capacity for reasoning and contemplation, allows him to marvel at the wonders and horrors of existence. This suggests that self-awareness and consciousness bring both enlightenment and anguish as man grapples with the mysteries of existence.

The mention of a woman awakening and urging the man to go and slay represents the emergence of survival instincts and the beginning of human civilization. Man equips himself with tools, represented by the bow and arrow, which symbolize the development of human intellect and technology through the marriage of spirit and hand.

However, when the man goes out to hunt, he realizes a sense of interconnectedness and empathy with all living beings, as reflected in the "psalm about the brotherhood of suffering between everything alive." This suggests a shift in man's perspective, where he starts to see himself as part of a larger web of existence rather than a superior predator. This realization may have led to a change in man's behavior, as he no longer returns with prey but instead sits by the waterhole and eventually dies.

“Man is a tragic animal. Not because of his smallness, but because he is too well endowed. Man has longings and spiritual demands that reality cannot fulfill. We have expectations of a just and moral world. Man requires meaning in a meaningless world.”

— Peter Wesel Zapffe

Zapffe's passage reflects on the human condition, the complexities of self-awareness, and the existential struggles that arise from our consciousness and perception of the world around us. It presents a philosophical exploration of the nature of existence, the search for meaning, and the consequences of self-awareness.

I read Thomas Ligotti’s book, “The Conspiracy Against the Human Race,” a while back. I don’t recall how I ran into his writing; it must have been a book review or something when I was doing research and reading on existential philosophy. Regardless, it is mind-blowing. I wouldn’t say it’s for everyone. It’s dark, scary, and sticks with you. He’s known as a horror writer. This is horror, but in a more realistic way. I’m not sure I’d call him a nihilist, but he’s something akin to that—definitely an anti-natialist. Antinatalism, or anti-natalism, is the philosophical position that views birth and procreation of sentient beings (including non-human animals) as morally wrong. Antinatalists therefore argue that humans should abstain from procreating.

He wrote a lot about Peter Wessel Zapffe in the book. I can get on board with Zapffe, for the most part, anyway. I really like Zapffe’s essay, “The Last Messiah.” It’s littered with metaphor and meaning regarding the human condition. I’ve quoted the beginning of the essay above and wanted to share a tiny bit of insight about it. In this essay, he addresses the giant deer (Irish elk) of long ago that evolution got wrong. The animal grew antlers that were almost 12 feet wide (almost 4 meters)! The antlers were so heavy, they pinned the animal’s head to the ground. Needless to say, the animal went extinct. Zapffe compares human consciousness to this animal’s overgrown antlers.

Zapffe suggests that, like the antlers of the Irish elk, human consciousness is a maladaptation that brings about its own downfall. While other animals are able to live instinctively, without the burden of self-consciousness, humans are burdened with an awareness of their own mortality and the inherent meaninglessness of existence. This awareness creates a tragic contradiction in human life, as humans strive to find meaning, purpose, and significance in a world that appears devoid of inherent meaning.

His analogy of the Irish elk's antlers serves as a metaphor for the heavy burden of human consciousness and the existential anguish that it can bring. It reflects his view that human existence is characterized by a profound sense of tragedy, as humans grapple with the absurdity and meaninglessness of their own existence.

THE WORM AT THE CORE READING

Join me Saturday, April 29, 2023, at 1000 MST on YouTube or Stream Yard for the reading of Chapter 7, The Worm at the Core. This is a big chapter for me. It informs my project and is at the center of the idea behind my current work. The next few chapters really lay out the human response to death anxiety and the denial of death.

The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life

Chapter 7: The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness

• Derogation and Dehumanization

• Cultural Assimilation and Accommodation

• Demonization and Destruction

• September 11, 2001: The Lash and the Backlash

• Dr. Strangelove in the Lab

• Nothing New Under the Sun

• Out on a Limb?

This is a reading of the book, "The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life" by Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg, and Tom Pyszczynski. Quinn will read a chapter every week and then have a discussion about it. This book, along with "The Denial of Death" by Ernest Becker, is the basis for Quinn's (photographic) book, "In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Genesis of Evil."

When: Saturday, April 29, 2023, at 1000 MST.

Where: My YouTube channel and Stream Yard

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNTibFMdWLU

Stream Yard: https://streamyard.com/f95s2myq8r