Collaborate or resist?
Little devils . . .
. . . versus beautiful angels.
Modern sentimentalism versus unwavering absolutism.
Be the change or get changed.
Pay a compliment.
Insult.
Yin/yang.
Devolve into nothingness (mathematically) or choose the narrow path.
Certain (or ambiguous) archetypes, symbols, myths, and/or forms; endure.
Or as Mitya (Dmitri) Karamazov in Dostoevsky's "Brothers Karamazov" stated it, "Without God all things are permitted."
But why is it that in this modern age we (so many of us) still have such a total lack of real consideration (mindfulness) when it comes to "ideas" great and small, much of the time?
It really does seem to be true that "hypotheses tend to devolve into axioms" (or cryptic sound bites), often (even for the above, though oft-quoted).
Let a Russian clarify that for you.
Perhaps rooted in it all is simply the need (or desire) to be nurtured? To be (constantly, faithfully, etc.) "loved"?
For an example, a sketchy study by a couple of economists in 2003 concluded that women are more likely to divorce their husbands, particularly IF they are parents of girls.
And nurturing seems to figure prominently in that reasoning.
As Steven E. Landsburg put it in his Oct 2003 article for Slate magazine on the study, "All over the world, boys hold marriages together, and girls break them up."
An oddly interesting, if axiomatic conclusion.
Elsewhere, the corporate philosophy of "productive conflict toward harmony" has its merits, though figures less well.
But then, a marriage (or family; including brothers and/or sisters) is not like a corporation. [Is it?]
Ultimately, agreement, ever elusive in the best of times, might be found in affirming that none [should] be lonely or without help.
We need each other.
"True" religion somehow maintains a place somewhere within our most basic (or primeval) psyche, heart, hunger and/or quest for the good, the better and the best; despite its consistent failure (s) to lead us (collectively, inclusively) forward.
However, within that hunger and/or quest, maybe someday our everyday uncertainty - whether inherent or inflicted - will become an overtly, humbly acknowledged constant.
Finally, as an afterthought, might Dostoevsky just as easily have written the words of Dmitri as: "With God 'all things' are permitted"?