Logic is only one half of the equation, but in Patriarchal Storytelling, it reigns supreme. The Devastating Argument is supposed to make the villain crumble, being bested by a superior intellectual argument that the hero lays out throughout the book. But how often we experience the feeling of *L'Esprit de l'escalier* -- being bested in an argument, but then think of the superior rebuttal only after the argument is over? How often do people win debates knowing full well they do not believe the facts and logic they present because they know them to be wrong?
We often assume it is a question of intellectual supremacy, when, in fact, it is emotional literary that counts.
Yet feelings are seen as obstacles to finding the truth.
We tell people they are being blinded by emotions, but not by their logical thoughts, yet we understand the concepts of sophistry and over-thinking. We know we can have too many facts and that our senses can literally be overloaded by them as we are frozen and unable to act based on knowledge alone.
Yet we can move to act immediately based on a feeling and get it right.
I once had an argument with someone in her office and she played the role of cool-headed rationalist, giving excuses why something absolutely necessary could not be done, and the person's final decision was immoral and I hollered. She thought she was being clever when she pointed out that I was being "emotional" -- as if it was not normal or right to be upset that her laziness and apathy was going to cause an innocent person unnecessary harm.
I retorted that emotionality did not equal irrationality; however, the lack of the emotions as she was now clearly displaying to me was the defining sign of having an Anti-Social Personality Disorder that she was incapable of hiding to someone who can make her way through a DSM manual.
She became *livid* but then quickly retreated when I pointed out that she started it first by questioning *my* mental state just because she failed to convince me that she was correct in her self-serving calculations and now she was furiously scheming how to spin the situation so she could deflect attention away from her gross dereliction as she could simultaneously dismiss me as being *wrong* and being too primitive to see her intellectual superiority to me. She was actively manipulating the facts to pretend to prove herself right. What she was doing was hiding behind a desk, a paper crown, and cherry-picked rules and facts to practice evil as she lorded over those in need and hiding her vile feelings with a paper-thin facade of intellectualism, hoping people were too rattled and emotionally numb to pick up her true feelings and character.
I was upset for a good reason: I saw what the consequences of her callousness would do to another human being that she was in the position to help as it was her job description and what she was being paid to do. Otherwise, she was a fraud.
If people are drowning, they do not need someone following rules that dictate holding a meeting, getting a permit, and then delegating responsibility to others to save them.
They need someone to be moved to act immediately because he sees what counts the most: the bottom line. Unless the action solves the problem, the action is worthless.
Logic is not Truth. It is one half of *finding* it, but without emotional literacy, you, at most, can get things only half-right. Truth requires elements other than facts and arguments.
The problem is emotions need to be explored and practiced constantly, not suppressed and ignored.
We have feelings for a *reason*, and yes, they are infinitely harder to master than logical thinking.
We may falsely believe we feel jealousy, but we may fool ourselves because we believe jealous feelings will inspire us to achieve goals. Competition is an intellectual exercise, but cooperation is an emotional one that requires faith, trust, and empathy.
Emotions overwhelm those who are repressed. They believe the solution is to ignore them, yet feelings are our internal barometer: they are primal instincts that tell us about our surroundings. We are happy for a reason. We are angry for a reason. We are sad for a reason, even if those reasons are not obvious at first glance.
Matriarchal Storytelling is all about exploring our emotions as we take none for granted. We explore fear, anger, and hate, but we also explore bravery, happiness, and love. We understand how different ratios change perceptions around us.
That is the reason Matriarchal stories explore events from multiple perspectives: we see how an unhappy person sees a turn of events as opposed to the timid one, the dishonest one, and the truthful one. We see how the blinders we mistake as protection confine us, and how to remove those blinders to explore emotions before we weave them with logic to ultimately find our way.
We think about tomorrow this way: we have a purpose to do right and good no matter what, and then we see how to do it under various emotional conditions. The jealous person will always try to elevate himself at the expense of others, and we can explore how the person misuses logic to justify his actions as he rationalizes his festering and neglected primitive feelings. We can see the opportunities that he misses and we can understand his behaviour without excusing it.
We learn to see the world with emotionality, we practice feeling with the characters as we travel through the story, and we can follow one character to feel one way, but then travel the same route with another character, picking up subtle clues that we could not see with the previous character.
We learn how to shift focus as we connect with our emotions such as empathy. This can give the author enormous freedom to add layers of plot twists just by shifting perspectives with various characters without fear of repetition. The author can even use the same core of absolute facts, but show that they are not the whole truth and until they are viewed with various emotions, the reader will be in for an unpredictable ride even if they are convinced that they know all there is to know.