Frankly, it blows my mind into what neurosurgeons would refer to as “a tizzy” when I ponder how paradoxically insignificant life can be. I hate to get all philosophical and “sciencey” when attempting to write an article because it usually results in relatively long periods of silent staring, writing pages upon pages of utter nonsense, and eventually collapsing under the weight of my own stupid fucking arrogance; but no matter. I shall continue on my editorial about the human experience (and attempt to be brief)…fuck.
In an infinitesimal period in space and time (or space-time if you like words with no and between them), we exist. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your life! We’re born, and we’re either coddled or mistreated for the first decade or so of our existence (this would determine whether we grow up to be dainty recluses or dangerous psychopaths…or…what’s the word for something in between those?).
After that, well, all bets are off. You could be a dainty recluse and move on to become a brilliant reclusive author, or, alternatively, you could be a dangerous psychopath and go on to be a surprisingly competent Governor…for a short time.
It is during this time between birth and death that we call “Life” that weird things occur. Our bodies change. We start thinking about girls (or boys if you’re a girl, or…gay…bi…transgender…fucking political correctness); we start listening to terrible music and are then deluded into adulthood that the terrible music we liked is somehow the best music in the world!
But I digress. My main point is that in this period of life, we forget certain things or refuse to acknowledge them. We spend that time considering things that don’t really exist and ignore those that do.
Life is fleeting, but exciting! Life is dull and miserable, but the greatest fucking miracle of all time. Humanity spends its time trying to find water-marks that look like Angels or The Virgin Mary in a grilled cheese sandwich. We get angry and spout things like “Ain’t nobody gonna tell me there ain’t no god!” Well, perhaps someone should.
This commentary isn’t supposed to be about the existence or non-existence of a Creator, but it must be known and accepted that such belief can be extremely harmful to the believer and to society. Not all the time, of course, but I’ll move on.
The miracle of life is a wonderful and mind-tizzying thing that we should never take for granted. It is the responsibility of all of us to create. I heard an interesting observation the other day from Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw. He said: “There are only two things humans can create: tools and art.”
While that seems like such an obvious statement, it struck me as profound and meaningful.
I remain hopeful for humanity. While the outlook may be bleak at the moment, we have reason to believe that the world will right itself sooner or later. Hopefully with all of us still going about our lives, leaving to rot, or at least questioning the daily routine.
