Responsa #4

It was all going so well, I thought. I liked you and you liked me. A new friendship? Maybe. It is true, I had my doubts, but I had been studying the art of friendship, a large part of which consists in the art of forgiveness (and self-forgiveness) which I have learned is the basis for healthy and productive human relationships – which must be worked on.

Accordingly, I first forgave you for ordering an oat flat white. I then immediately forgave you again, for refusing to order another kind of coffee when you discovered that they had run out of oat milk [sic], because of your views on soya bean and cashew nut cultivation, in particular, the excessive use of water which you said was used in the production of these beans and nuts for alternative milk products, unlike, you stressed, the quantity of water that goes into the production of oats for oat milk, which you called: a reasonable quantity of water. You said: I’m very particular when it comes to coffee, as a kind of tongue-in-cheek self-reproach and recognition, a self-ironising which I then thought was to your credit (despite the fact that stricto sensu, your particularity exists with respect to which alternative milk products go with your coffee, not the coffee itself, about which you have never directly commented on).

I now look back on my early – prima facie – interpretation of these initial incidents as overly charitable and naive. I should have seen, on the basis first of the oat milk incident and then, second, the statement of self-irony with respect to your alternative milk predilections, that you were simply using me as a witness to what I would later call (mentally) your oat flat white and alternative milk performance, and that this signified so many other things which I had failed to notice or grasp in the early stages of our so-called friendship.

In order to overcome both incidents (or as I later called them, in my mind, performances) I drew on the following idea: we must see historical figures in the light of their own times – or what we think is that light, because, actually, we are not historians and do not know what the light of their times really was like – and should not judge them by our own standards, and if we apply this to ourselves and our own times, we must see our current actions already retrospectively, as if looked back upon by future historians. And by imagining myself as a future historian I could, I thought, forgive you more deeply both for the oat flat white and alternative milk predilection incidents. As someone ordinarily ethically non-magnanimous, but now, studying and working on the art of friendship, I understood the necessity for compromises in – and for – friendships, and so I attempted transcendence, and really thought I had forgiven you for these incidents, especially now that I had a proper theoretical basis for doing so (future retrospective historical contextualisation).

And things were going well again, and we had some nice walks and talks and coffees – when the correct alternative milk products were available – and one day, naturally enough, you invited me to your owner-occupied one-bedroom flat. For the sake of peace I accepted your hand-made barista-style oat flat white and actually, it wasn’t bad. And it was then that the third incident occurred, from which the friendship never recovered. After the oat flat white I immediately attended your bathroom (toilet) and as I sat down, I looked across the room, and saw it gazing at me, mocking me from its regal position beside the chrome mixer tap on your sink: a dark brown bottle of Asēop Resurrection Aromatique Hand Wash.

You of all people, why would you stoop so low as to obtain this gentle formulation containing oils of Orange, Rosemary and Lavender to effectively cleanse the hands without drying them out? Do you really think of your hands as modest instruments to which we owe our daily comforts, deserving care befitting their unflinching service? And do you: Accordingly, consider richly aromatic cleansers and balms that hydrate, nourish and soften? I had not reckoned with this. Yes, it is true, every other owner-occupied one-bedroom flat with beige and white and minimalist furnishings also automatically carried the Asēop Resurrection Aromatique Hand Wash. But I thought – I lied, to myself – that you were not in this category. Yes, on consideration, your furnishings were regulation beige and white and minimalist, but you were the last person who I thought would carry the Asēop Resurrection Aromatique Hand Wash.

So many – in fact, all – of my friendships with one-bed owner-occupier women have ended immediately on discovery of their Asēop Resurrection Aromatique Hand Wash. So fearful that this pattern would continue, I have refused to enter any such institutions for fear of discovering Asēop Resurrection Aromatique Hand Wash and thereby being forced to relinquish an otherwise tolerable friendship. (Part of the problem being that you cannot explain the real reason for ending the friendship, for the truth wouldn’t be accepted or understood, and so you have to find an unarguable excuse such as a severe mental health difficulty, which is such a delicate matter.) I have maintained my friendships precisely by not entering these institutions which may or may not carry the product. And for you I had made an exception, for you I let my guard down – practised vulnerability – and I was immediately faced with, and ran head on straight into, yet another Asēop Resurrection Aromatique Hand Wash situation.

And I do blame myself for it. All the signs were available from the two initial coffee-related incidents (outlined above), but my indulgence in the art of friendship, part of which is constituted by the art of forgiveness (and self-forgiveness), together with self-deception and wishful-thinking – weakness – rather than accurate judgement – strength – meant that I robbed myself of my native capacity of seeing and understanding the situation correctly and acting in the correct way.

Conclusion and summary of my current position regarding this situation concerning alternative milk products and Asēop Resurrection Aromatique Hand Wash: You seemed to have a mind that was alive, but I was thrown into complete confusion and doubt about this judgement, due to the presence of the product in your bathroom (toilet), and I am now reliving every moment of our acquaintance in a different light, and feel as if I have been utterly betrayed and can now see the real meaning of our acquaintance. Looking at things now in the cold light of the Asēop Hand Wash incident everything makes more sense, and the oat flat white and alternative milk incidents can now can be understood and properly subsumed in their correct aspirational context, in which neurotic adherence to the exacting social thought and consumption standards and clear awareness only of what the right thing to think and do at the right moment (relatively only to those standards), meant that contrary to my misplaced hopes and expectations, there was no thinking in your head, and this is what the Asēop hand wash incident revealed.

My moral conclusion from this latest incident: the home is (properly) the refuge from the world, not more of the world, and so the mimetic and venal standards of the world should never enter the home. Even if our outer lives are shows, the inner life, and the expression of the inner life through the home, must not be a show, and if it is a show in which status and convention are rigidly adhered to, then you reveal your inner life to be utterly empty, and to be taken over entirely by the mimetic and venal standards of the world.

Summary general conclusion: Oh Asēop women! You have nothing to lose but your citrus, woody and herbaceous aromatics!

Addendum: It has been brought to my attention – by a so-called friend – that my possession of a bottle of Neal's Yard Remedies Geranium and Orange Foaming Bath by my bath, makes me some kind of hypocrite in the light of the above. But I must reject and do resent this allegation, and believe that any sensible person will see that this is a completely different kind of situation altogether.