Suicide is philosophical.

Camus begins The Myth of Sisyphus: “There is but one serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide.”[1]

Socrates declares: “The true philosopher is ever pursuing death and dying.” He continues: “one aim of those who practice philosophy in the proper manner is to practice for dying and death.” Suicide is praxis. [2]

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[1] Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus, Justin O’Brien trans. (New York: Vintage International, 1991), 3.

[2] Phaedo 64a

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Now you sit back in your comfortable theater seat as the credits roll and that lovely theme music plays — rousing and majestic and a little bitter sweet, da da, dada, da-da da’da-da — and you think to yourself, Well, that was damn peculiar. What just happened? I was supposed to see the eidos of suicide. And that was not it. Did I stumble into the wrong theater?

Then you get a little upset. This was supposed to be suicide as quietude and lullaby, and that was nothing but fighting and sound effects and what about all those lessons? Suicide toward the greater good, society and (inter)species over individual. Suicide embodying thwart. New planets to start all over again. Kirk who is reborn for at least four more movies. And so much for neverness. That’s not bracketing life and bringing death into play. That’s storytelling to feed human hunger for a better tomorrow. We did not enter the holy of holies of suicide. We followed a trail of nonsense leading to a dead end. Where is the eidos of suicide?, you demand. Show me the eidos of suicide.

To be honest, you are a little too worked up. In fairness, we may have entered the wrong cloud. Played the wrong notes. Sang the wrong song.

I’ll tell you what. Let us enter the cloud of forgetting meaning let’s forget all about this. Cleanse the palette. Get a fresh start. There’s that case of those wild geese. Let’s talk about guns. Or maybe not. Let’s be quiet for a while. Tranquil. Still. Silent. How does that sound?