The pictures of pets dressed as humans.
The musings and rantings online and off.
The actions we celebrate and mourn and pretend to not know happen an infinite number of times over the course of humanity and that we're not important enough to feel shitty about it. None of us are.
Nor are any of us not. It isn't that we aren't important enough to feel one way or the other, it is that we're using spoons to describe laughter in terms of biochemistry.
The thing is that our feelings are nothing. My statement that our feelings are nothing is itself nothing. And yet this is all we have, this nothing. And we have an awful lot of it. It is more of us than we are of ourselves. Just like those microbes. Just like that soul and spirit and mind and all that we can't get pin down.
Some say emergent phenomenon. This is another phrase for elaborate nothingness.
The diamond is not more than the leaf. They are both more space than they are solid.
It is the structure that is the existence. It is the pattern that makes the repetitions of the pattern itself possible.
And yet this is all there is. This is more than there needed to be. This is all we asked for and more because we never asked for it an never could. Before it was, we weren't. Before we were, it wasn't. Unless there is some other awareness out in existence. Ohbut wait there are many other awarenesses even on this planet. There are animals and plants and... who is to know that a rock lacks awareness? It seems to us to lack agency... but so too does water and water seems to act.
Seems seems seems. This all seems like so much and yet it is so little. It is elementary. Children think this way because this is the way of the world. The curiouser and curiouser you get, the more and more there is to explore. The more and more you don't know. The more you try to grasp the whole, the more you are burdened by the minutiae. You are sure you don't understand toothpaste, let alone the components. And if there is toothpaste, how many things that I don't even know exist do I lack the capability to explain?
What sort of things are the sort of things that I can't know? There must be truths which surpass my current imagination that in mere years will seem like commonplace knowledge. My failure is the success of humanity. The failure of humanity is non-existent as humanity is not a monolith.
Except that it is. It is a monolith which does not self-recognize. We lack the awareness of what we are because if we ask all humans what all humans are, they will all give different answers. Even the ones who pledge to have an identical reading of the world through religion or science will not give identical answers. To expect that there is some full-scale meaning or purpose or the like is too much. But there is no meaning or purpose to lava. That makes it no less monolithic. Nor the seas. Nor the next hantavirusebolachickenofheseafluenza.
That there is no purpose to us does not mean that we will not have some obvious to an outside observer path of least resistance which we will inevitably follow if given a long enough time to hang ourselves. I mean uplift ourselves. I mean our whole. I mean... I do not "mean" well.
I mean, I mean well, but I do not do direct meaning well. I write to understand, to explore, to challenge. Not to tell, convince, believe. I exist to write. I write to exist.
This is a lot like food.
The above, I am told, could for many people be better understood if I use a different form:
Examining the relationship between writing and existence for me is as instructive as examining the relationship between eating and existence for humans.
Think of all the food you've eaten over your life and all of the food you'll eat in the future. How do you feel now?
Think of all the steps you've ever taken in your life and all of the steps you'll ever take in the future. How do you feel now?
Think of the breaths. How do you feel?
Think of the thoughts. How do you feel? Think of all the thoughts of all of the people you've ever known. Think of all of the thoughts that all of the people you know know. Of the people they've known. Of all of your ancestors. Of all of theirs. Of all humans. Of the thoughts all humans have thought others were having. Of all the thoughts that overlapped.
This number is not infinite.
How do you feel?
Remember, the world is spinning, tilting, circling around something which is tilting, spinning, circling, swirling, circling around something spinning, careening, tilting, wobbling, circling around near something else that is rotating, expanding, cooling, ...
If I think of a baseball and then think of a moon orbiting a planet, how many thoughts have a thunk?
If I put it into words is that another discrete thought? If I think it in one language and then another are those separate thoughts? If I think it is more than one language at once? If I think it in a symbol and a picture? What of a framed picture of a baseball orbiting a moon orbiting a planet with rocky rings of debris?
How much is that doggy in the black hole?
Is it even a dog? Has anything actually entered the black hole?
Is there an inside and an out?
What is it we're trying to figure out, as a humanity? If we can identify meaninglessness... what does that mean? Is either meaning or meaningless unavoidable?
I "meaning" itself again lacking in meaning?
If meaning can neither have meaning nor lack meaning, what is meaning?
We attribute meaning to so many things. What has intrinsic meaning? Is there intrinsic meaning?
I'm sure there's more attempt to express meaning, but then there is likely more failure and thus more meaningless as well. If there is more meaningless is there less meaning?
If there are more meanings rather than one, doesn't that diminish all meanings?
this is where i enter text
20141027
The Meaninglessness Is Accelerating
text entered by dusty.rhodes circa 5:19 PM
Labels: reality?, ruminations
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- dusty.rhodes
- "He's just this guy, you know?"
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