I didn’t write this article with coherent and rigorous logic in mind, so don’t expect to walk way from this with some new and profound meaning of life, but I think you might find it interesting none the less. I wrote it more to help me remember some various lines of reasoning to pursue more rigorously later.
I want to know what the hell the point of all this is. By “all of this” – I mean all of this. What am I doing here. Why am I alive on this rock floating through space, that is filled with several billion completely insane human beings, who all think it is perfectly rational to rob and murder each other. What the fuck is this place? What the hell is going on? Who in their wildest imaginings could ever dream up such an ingenious physical universe mixed with such stark raving lunacy?
It’s almost like the entire point of being alive is to live in a near constant state of want, lack, desire and fear, interspersed with brief, yet exquisite, states of happiness, love and contentment. Why? I want to know why. Of course, figuring out the answer wouldn’t change anything. I could understand the entire universe tomorrow and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Which begs the question of why I should give a shit about anything, since knowing wouldn’t change anything and I’m eventually going to die anyways.
Did I chose to come here? If I follow the logical and scientific evidence, which points to the existence of an external consciousness, then I must have made the choice to be alive at this moment. Either that, or someone (some thing?) forced me to be here. I’m almost leaning toward being forced to be here because this place is fucking nuts.
Of course, pointing out that this place is nuts exposes me as being a nut. For if I wasn’t insane, I would take my own advice and stop giving a damn. When you cease to give a damn, everything is just peachy. Not caring if you have to crap in the woods allows one to be happy no matter what life throws at you. Not worrying about finding food or shelter tomorrow means being in a state of bliss right now. Not worrying about what some state sponsored thug is going to do to me for smoking a joint, not worrying about what Ben Bernanke is going to do to the money supply, not worry about anything is what allows a person to be happy right now.
It’s interesting how that works hey?
Fear is dependent upon the existence of memory, and memory is dependent upon the existence of time. Without a memory of the past, it is impossible to be afraid of something that will happen in the future. If you had no memory, and were simply aware of things as they were happening, you wouldn’t know enough to be afraid of anything. Without a sequential flow of time, fear loses its potency. Imagine if you could move through time at will, would you ever be afraid of anything? Since you would know the future as well as the past, what’s there to be afraid of? Fear requires a state of not knowing. If you knew exactly what happened beyond the point of death, and if that state were to be quite pleasant, would you be afraid of dying? We only fear death because we don’t know with total certainty what happens to our consciousness after the body dies.
So fear requires time and fear requires not knowing the future, but remembering the past. There’s no reason why the universe should have come together with all the components that make life and fear a possibility. It must have been intended to be so from the beginning. We are intended to live in this global insane asylum, filled with fear and rage. This experience is supposed to teach us something. Teach me what? Is all of this insanity really necessary? Do I need to live here on this planet, at this moment in history, in this persona, to learn my “lessons?” Why should I have lessons to learn anyways? Who’s doing the teaching and who’s doing the learning?
Now that you’ve read my thoughts, ask yourself why you care what I, or anyone else, thinks about anything. It’s all junk that doesn’t really matter, because in the end we are all dead anyways. I think fear plays a role in what causes us to care about what other people think. If I wasn’t afraid of the economy imploding, I never would have picked up a copy of Man, Economy and State. I simply wouldn’t have given a damn.