A Rebel Without a Cause...

I often think about the antagonistically symbiotic relationship between life and death. It might seem paradoxical to say that two things are antagonistically symbiotic. How can two things be both hostile towards one another and also cooperative with each other? It occurs much more often than you might think. Oil and vinegar have a natural aversion towards one another, yet oil and vinegar go great together on salads and sandwhiches. Cold water and warm water are not exactly best friend either, but the warmth of one liquid cooperates with the chill of of the other by highlighting its characteristics. Take a chillingly cold shower and then immediately jump into a pool and what happens. The pool waters feels warm compared to the cold shower water. Take a warm shower and then jump in the pool. The pool water feels cold compared with the warm shower water. In essence, even though the warm water and the cold water are in opposition to one another, they also cooperate with one another through their opposition by magnifying the characteristics of the other. Life and death are in opposition to one another; however, they are also cooperative as the experience of either life or death magnifies the characteristics of the other, just as the one liquid magnifies the qualities of the other.

Intuitively we know life and death are in opposition to one another, but are they in oppostion with each other in a fundamentally logical manner? The American Heritage Dictionary defines life as the "property or quality that distinguishes living organisms from dead organism and inanimate matter." So, "life" itself is defined as an opposition between those things that are said to be alive and those things that are said to be dead. Moreover, scientifically life is understood as objects that are composed of systems that "tend to respond to changes in their environment, and inside themselves, in such a way as to promote their own continuation" (Witzany). I think promoting their own continuation should be understood as avoiding the ending of their continuation (death). So, it seems that intuitively and logically life and death are in opposition to one another.

In addition to being in opposition to one another, do life and death have a hatred towards one another that causes their opposition? We have to understand this one through thought experiments only, because there is no way to prove life hates death or that death hates life. Religiously, philosophically, scientifically, biologically, and logically we can conclude in a general sense that life and death hate one another. At the very least, if life got along with death, then life would not try and avoid death to the extent that it does. In other words, organisms do not gravitate towards pathways that would lead them towards death. In fact, all species adapt in order to sustain life or else they risk extinction. If life and death got along this would not be the case. So, not only are life and death in opposition to one another, but they also have hatred for each other, thus they are antagonistic.

Being in opposition, though, does not mean that the two things are opposites. What are the opposites of the following things or ideas: hot, left, high, light, life.......... My guess is that more likely than not you thought: cold, right, low, dark, death. These, however, are NOMINAL opposites. That is, they are opposites only in name. Opposites only because we think of them in such a way. The opposite of HOT is not COLD, but rather the opposite of HOT is NOT HOT. Anything that is NOT HOT is the opposite of HOT, whether that be warm, temperate, cool, or cold. Those are LOGICAL opposites. Even though life and death have an opposition to one another, they are not LOGICAL opposites of one another. Therefore, life and death can have a symbiotic and cooperative relationship with one another, even though they have an antagonistic relationship as well - like oil and vinegar.

Confused? Allow me to elaborate: Kurt Cobain, 27; River Phoenix, 23; Sid Vicious, 21; James Dean, 24; Sharon Tate, 26. These are all examples of people whose death magnified the qualities and characteristics of their lives, perhaps disproportionately. Without the prevalence of death, and in these cases premature and tragic death, the lives of these people are glorified in ways that they potentially should not be glorified. Each of these people show how life and death are antagonistically and symbiotically related. Antagonistic because their lives were blossoming just as the derangement or coincidental or unfortunate circumstances of death took hold. Symbiotic because the rising stars that were their lives caused their deaths to be commercialized and even maniacal, meanwhile it is their deaths that magnified the promising qualities of their lives. James Dean was an up-and-coming star projected to have every bit of the career that Marlon Brando ended up having. As such, his existence as a young actor and a rising sex symbol catapulted the news of his death into the mainstream and, consequently, into American lore. Moreover, his instant death in a car accident disproportionately magnified the acting skills Dean showed in his three major films.


Their lives made their deaths seems impossible and tragic. Their deaths, however, left their lives gilded with 24-karat leafing. It isn't accurately known whether their deaths were made famous by them being famous or they were made famous by their deaths. It has always perplexed me how a tragic and often times premature death can commodify that person's life. Yes, literally the life is turned into a commodity. The person in particular (and more tragically the family and loved ones of the person) is taken hold of by the population and made into something other than what he or she is.

To clarify: I am not a tragic case, nor am I unflawed. Much of my life has consisted of errors and flaws. If God punishes us for living unrighteous lives, then I cannot argue with my disease. If I die it should not be said that I was a great man or that I was a righteous man or that I was the model man. The truth should be told. When it comes to tragic death, though, the truth gets lost somewhere in between the "Story" and the "Memory." Jim Morrison is remembered for being the Lizard King, the singer-poet of a generation, the man who said what you thought. He isn't remembered necessarily for being a degenerate drug-abusing man who overdosed on heroine.

Before I was sick, people used to say, "I like Andrew, but he thinks he's better than everyone" or "he never lets anyone else be right" or "he's selfish." Since then, I'm some sort of inspirational story. A young and tragic look at the iniquities of life. A bold critique of the health industry's inability to explain medical ailments. I've become a prayer. I've become a plethora of candles lit in innumerable churches. I've been taken across the continental United States, and to Europe, and taken to the Middle East and put into monastaries and churches and temples. I've become the questions of so many friends and loved ones to nomadic street psychics and tarot-reading gypsies. I've become a compartmentalized conversational commodity. My disease, my cancer, has taken me from a living, breathing human being and turned me into a fucking t-shirt.

That's what death does to life. That's what even the potential of death does to life. If you aren't careful and if you aren't watching it can steal your identity and turn you into something else. My life until this point has magnified the "tragedy" that would result in me dying from cancer. Similarly, the potential that I can die TOMORROW from cancer has made Andrew Samuel into "Andrew Samuel." Still, in the end, I don't know the best way to measure a life. I think, though, the best measure of a man is in knowing how many people measure themselves by him. Measure using this, whether in "life" or in "death":

"I am certain that after the dust of centuries has passed over our cities, we, too, will be remembered not for victory or defeats in battle or in politics, but for our contribution to the human spirit." - John F. Kennedy

The moment of truth...

One of the most difficult things to deal with as a person going through the throws of cancer is how people speak TO you in one way, but speak ABOUT you in another. I'm not the type of person to tell someone that they have to agree with the same thoughts that I have, but I am the type of person that asks for some semblance of consistency when talking to me and when talking about me. When people talk to me, that is when we are in a conversation, the general feeling always seems to be that I will somehow and some way defeat my cancer and go on to live a long, fruitful, and otherwise normal life. There is not a single person that is even willing to recognize the possibility of death. On the other hand, when people speak about me, that is when I am not actually around, I understand that there is an altogether more somber tone to the conversation. Suddenly, the persistence of my disease, and even significantly premature death, are not only options, but inevitabilities. Not only do I have a problem with the Orwellian double-speak, but I have maybe an even bigger problem with the fact that neither things that the people are saying to me is the truth.

You see the fact is, the people around me do not know if I'm going to beat my disease, but they also do not know that I'm not going to beat my disease. For those of you joining the game late, it has pretty much been a running theme of this blog that your life can change from one second to the next. So, why does me having cancer automatically make my future predictable, moreover, what makes people think that THEY can accurately predict my future? If I live - for however long I live - it will not be because my friends and family constantly tell me that I'm going to live. The support from loved ones is an undeniable part of my ability to fight this cancer, but that's because those people are there for me. It has nothing to do with what they are or are not saying to, at, or about me.

You know, watching things on television about people suffering with cancer, or listening to the stories of people who have battled cancer, you normally hear or see very dramatized or very commercialized versions of the stories. I am not saying that to be disrespectful, but only as a matter of observance. What I have found is that the general consensus is that saying SOMETHING, even if it is the wrong thing, is better than nothing. I am sorry, but I have to thoroughly disagree with this sentiment. As a child, when your mother caught you in the act of violating one of her rules and she said "What exactly were you thinking?" it was  NOT an acceptable option to just say anything whatsoever. In fact, it was very important that you chose your words wisely, not necessarily because you had to say the perfectly right words. The important thing for your mom was that no matter what you said, you just had better make sure that you didn't flip-flop your story later on. You see the thing that your mom hated was when you told her one thing one minute, but said something different the next, because then momma knew you were full of shit. 

I find that when you don't know what you feel or that you don't know what to say, saying nothing is better than making a friend feel betrayed when you say you're confident in them one minute, but then they hear that you doubt them the next minute. The funny thing is that no one even blames people for having doubts or for second-guessing. Some days I feel like I'm going to live forever and other days I feel like I can't even make it a few more hours. So, can I really judge someone who feels absolutely certain that I will be okay one day, but has doubts the next day? I know that people are just trying to say the right things and are trying to make sure the cancer patient doesn't lose faith. To me, the number one way that the cancer patient loses faith is when people only want to be honest when they talk about him and not when they talk to him.