A Cornucopia of Futility...
The reality to which we are doomed is devoid of meaning and purpose. So say the modern philosophers, authors, poets and artists. Any hope of finding meaning "out there" that isn't derived from within would either lead to disappointment or being manipulated by another.
Our only refuge is an existential existence where we decorate our lives with activities and beliefs to which we choose to commit due to subjective aesthetic attraction. We become artists of life and our own is our canvas. But these paints we splatter so liberally are chosen for us. Our activities are determined by our means and our means by our education, exposure, and resources. Our beliefs are decided by environmental conditioning--our upbringing, exposure, etc... Even existentialism fails to fulfill.
A hope appears when we try to filter out the impurities that have polluted our existence. If we find our true self and identify our center then we would have a starting point from which a more fulfilling development can begin. So armed with honesty and a probing inner eye we analyze our own history to distill our purer form. But is it possible to ever truly know thyself?
Students of computation will know that it is impossible. Our brain is essentially an enormous collection of analog processors that retains gradually fading residual tendencies in favor of past decisions. To be completely aware of the phenomena occurring within, all inputs and outputs must shutdown. The idea is simplified using 4 neurons [A, B, C, D].
A >> B >> C >> D >> A >> ...
Complete self containment is the only hope of true self awareness. Noticeably, the pollutants remain in the system so how better off is a person from when they started? The gradual degradation of favorable tendencies within our neurons provides the possibility for us to identify our center. But that center is a snapshot of who we were, to discover who we are is truly impossible. Surely we can generate mental schemas to average who we are, but that is just an estimation, our current self is beyond our grasp.
So rather than continuously sitting in perpetual meditation for eternity, most people give up these personal pursuits in favor of a more sensual life. We rely on the flesh to direct us. Pleasure and pain become our moral North and South. Ethics are replaced by advantage. God is replaced with resources. Polytheism reigns again where the gods are comprised of the elite and privileged. George Bush as Zeus, Bill Gates as Apollo, the Walton family replace the Titans and the House of Saud the Furies. Celebrities become anthropomorphic half-men/half-golden calves, demagogues become demigods, and athletes become giants.
The striving of life is now directed towards the legacies of indulgence, superficiality, materialism. Autonomy becomes a childish fantasy as the world lets go of doubt and gets carried by the current of consumerism. Earth is preferred over providence and the senses over the spiritual. But what a let down when decay proves ideal wrong.
Baby boomers fight for faces lifts, line up for liposuction and beg for botox. How long do they presume they'd be able to ward off time. Soon the body rejects the effects of indulgence. The pharmaceutical industry has been able to elongate the time they could spend abusing their flesh and ignoring their mind, but eventually the body shuts down. Will they continue to evade their emptiness by filling it with Oxycontin, Percocet, and Vicodin? Subvert spiritual failure with Prozac, Zoloft, Zyban and Paxil? Will they continue to deny decay with Cialis, Viagra and cosmetic surgery until the myth of Bimini become reality?
Eventually time conquers all. As hard and as fast as they run, they can't escape death. Their personal time line is only a segment and without ever addressing that mortal fact, they die without ever trying to discover their purpose beyond the flesh. Why deny the mind when it is such a powerful tool? Choose to make an impact and resonate from beyond the grave. Immortality is the goal of every person. Buddha, Jesus, Nietzsche and others have proven it possible at least in spirit (even if it's bastardized), we should all pursue the same end.
Even that is futile. If our spirit permeates humanity for millennia, it can never be eternal. If grace allows mankind to avoid self destruction, the life giving sun will eventually swell to swallow all that is man (less a few hunks of metal and silicon flung into the great void). So maybe the sensualists have the right idea. Forget this gift since it only brings despair. But then again, why should we let futility stand in the way off our self actualization? Lets just avoid the subject of there being no self...
Our only refuge is an existential existence where we decorate our lives with activities and beliefs to which we choose to commit due to subjective aesthetic attraction. We become artists of life and our own is our canvas. But these paints we splatter so liberally are chosen for us. Our activities are determined by our means and our means by our education, exposure, and resources. Our beliefs are decided by environmental conditioning--our upbringing, exposure, etc... Even existentialism fails to fulfill.
A hope appears when we try to filter out the impurities that have polluted our existence. If we find our true self and identify our center then we would have a starting point from which a more fulfilling development can begin. So armed with honesty and a probing inner eye we analyze our own history to distill our purer form. But is it possible to ever truly know thyself?
Students of computation will know that it is impossible. Our brain is essentially an enormous collection of analog processors that retains gradually fading residual tendencies in favor of past decisions. To be completely aware of the phenomena occurring within, all inputs and outputs must shutdown. The idea is simplified using 4 neurons [A, B, C, D].
A >> B >> C >> D >> A >> ...
Complete self containment is the only hope of true self awareness. Noticeably, the pollutants remain in the system so how better off is a person from when they started? The gradual degradation of favorable tendencies within our neurons provides the possibility for us to identify our center. But that center is a snapshot of who we were, to discover who we are is truly impossible. Surely we can generate mental schemas to average who we are, but that is just an estimation, our current self is beyond our grasp.
So rather than continuously sitting in perpetual meditation for eternity, most people give up these personal pursuits in favor of a more sensual life. We rely on the flesh to direct us. Pleasure and pain become our moral North and South. Ethics are replaced by advantage. God is replaced with resources. Polytheism reigns again where the gods are comprised of the elite and privileged. George Bush as Zeus, Bill Gates as Apollo, the Walton family replace the Titans and the House of Saud the Furies. Celebrities become anthropomorphic half-men/half-golden calves, demagogues become demigods, and athletes become giants.
The striving of life is now directed towards the legacies of indulgence, superficiality, materialism. Autonomy becomes a childish fantasy as the world lets go of doubt and gets carried by the current of consumerism. Earth is preferred over providence and the senses over the spiritual. But what a let down when decay proves ideal wrong.
Baby boomers fight for faces lifts, line up for liposuction and beg for botox. How long do they presume they'd be able to ward off time. Soon the body rejects the effects of indulgence. The pharmaceutical industry has been able to elongate the time they could spend abusing their flesh and ignoring their mind, but eventually the body shuts down. Will they continue to evade their emptiness by filling it with Oxycontin, Percocet, and Vicodin? Subvert spiritual failure with Prozac, Zoloft, Zyban and Paxil? Will they continue to deny decay with Cialis, Viagra and cosmetic surgery until the myth of Bimini become reality?
Eventually time conquers all. As hard and as fast as they run, they can't escape death. Their personal time line is only a segment and without ever addressing that mortal fact, they die without ever trying to discover their purpose beyond the flesh. Why deny the mind when it is such a powerful tool? Choose to make an impact and resonate from beyond the grave. Immortality is the goal of every person. Buddha, Jesus, Nietzsche and others have proven it possible at least in spirit (even if it's bastardized), we should all pursue the same end.
Even that is futile. If our spirit permeates humanity for millennia, it can never be eternal. If grace allows mankind to avoid self destruction, the life giving sun will eventually swell to swallow all that is man (less a few hunks of metal and silicon flung into the great void). So maybe the sensualists have the right idea. Forget this gift since it only brings despair. But then again, why should we let futility stand in the way off our self actualization? Lets just avoid the subject of there being no self...
2 Comments:
It's a good thing you don't read Marx.
It is not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but their social existence that determines their consciousness.
And a pity you don't read Shakespeare.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing force untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
You think that since your work is not to the exact specifications you envisioned, then it is a failure and all those who appreciate it fools. You are wrong, darling bud of May.
By
Anonymous, at 8:23 PM
Nothing is ever what it is imagined. Although I don't read Marx, I have enjoyed Shakespeare on rare occassions. This sonnet captures my discontent...
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow,
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence.
So I say...
To expose Thine gift as empty promise,
And erase away the exploits divined
Will wipe askance His heavenly premise
Then render absurd the free will ovined.
When confronted with flock and void, I choose void...
By
T.S. Idiot, at 8:39 AM
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