What I do and why I do it

What could be more rewarding than utilizing the power of thought to illuminate the workings of the universe (/life) itself? But in order for one to begin connecting the dots, one needs dots. It is the function of experiments and mathematical modeling to provide such dots. While advances in technology have enabled us to obtain ever more precise dots in ever greater number, identification of the pattern that emerges from them remains the sole domain of human intellect. However, inherent in this grand description is recognition of the limited nature of human scientific knowledge. A scientific theory is merely the most complex simplification of a real process that can be achieved at the given time. This is because we are unable to observe the whole fabric of reality, depending instead on experiments and mathematics to transduce a few bits and pieces of it into a form that our senses may perceive. As long as this remains the case, a scientist can never run dry of curiosities to indulge. Indeed what a curious thing the human condition is? Our limitations ironically ensure an inexhaustible source of mystery that we may forever be amused.

Just because we killed you, it doesn't mean we don't love you.

The meaning of one’s existence (I refer to a meaning bounded by the span of one’s consciousness and not to any manner of grand, unifying purpose) comes from interactions of one’s consciousness with the universe at large and with other conscious minds. The proportion of these two types of interactions is determined by who we are and in turn defines our identity. Sometimes, in interacting with certain people we find the meaning of our own existence enriched. These are the people with whom we form stable, meaningful bonds – love, friendship and the like.

Once in a while there comes along an individual whose existence enriches that of many – a hero. Indeed a hero is one who can love many as his own and continue to do so without having to avert his eyes from the truth. Because, heroes are reviled more than they are loved – that is the way of our “society”. Our actions scream out the words we dare not whisper – the only good heroes are dead ones. While they live, heroes are the squeaky wheels that will not be silences. They are the square pegs that will not be contained by the round holes of our “society”. They are the thorn in our collective side. But truly they are the sheep in a den full of wolves in sheep’s clothing.

Why do we hold such contempt for them? Perhaps because they are who we wish to be and by being noble, they reflect the ugliness in the rest of us. We are too lazy to live by our principles, or to even have a clear moral framework; so we deem it impossible. We blame our failures on “the human condition”, but then a very human being comes along and offers us a glimpse of what is possible. And we hate him for it. We destroy him as best we can – we may not always succeed at destroying the idea of a hero, but we certainly excel at destroying the person of one. Once we’ve killed a hero, we try to truly bury him and all that he stood for. Failing that, we place him on a pedestal. In what must be the greatest mockery of them all, we then condemn our own hand that did the killing. But at some level we all know that our collective hands are stained with more blood than we care to admit, even to ourselves.

Once a hero is slain we go to work on him with the all the skill of a master artist: we place his name in lights and sing ballads in his honor even as we grind down the idea he stood for, until all that remain are a few weak words. Words like liberty and non-violence – words that we may then utter with mock ceremony without fear of being affected by the idea they once represented. That way we can sweep away our collective guilt under the proverbial carpet and move on with our “lives”. Ain’t WE grand?

The one redeeming truth, though, is that heroes do sometimes succeed – rarely to the extent they had aspired to and almost always, paying with their lives – but at the end of the day, they stand tall over (against?) the rest of us.

P.S. This post was inspired by a radio talk show discussing the ideals that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. stood for.

What could be more human than hope?

This is in response to a comment on my previous post.

What could be more human thank hope?
Anynymous said:

1. Adultery
2. Backstabbing
3. Jealousy
4. Irrationality
5. Wasting Money on Valentines Day
6. Substance Abuse (show me one bonobo or iguana that does it?)
7. Emotional manipulation (the preserve of the average Indian parent)
8. Evil (this is purely a human thing, born entirely out of ignorance)
9. Obsession with stupid games in which grown men fool around with spherical objects
10. Belief in a grand narrative known as life (when it is just a series of digressions)

Indeed many, if not all of the above are all too commonplace. But the question is, do they constitute what may be described as "human"? I for one do not think so. Quite to the contrary, they constitute a failure to be "human". It is my opinion that belonging to the species Homo sapiens sapiens alone does not qualify one as a human being. To me, humanity is an ideal one strives for every moment of one's existence. Humanity is no congenitally conferred label, it is a state of mind achieved through long and rigorous learning (and I'm not talking about reading Chicken Soup for the Soul). For a more detailed discussion of my views on the subject, see "Human Life".

P.S. With regard to Anonymous' list of things human, I find it rather odd that obsession with sports or enriching the coffers of Hallmark should be placed right alongside jealousy, backstabbing and ignorance.

Madness explained? Maybe

First things first. For those who were offended by my statements regarding religion in my previous post "Madness returns...with a vengeance": Calm the fuck down! (Yes, I can be nice.) I have nothing against religion, as long as one man's religion does not step on the toes of another man's liberty. Now, if that's true, why would I say the things I said? That post was supposed to be one long (OK! and somewhat twisted) joke - I was trying consciously to dance on either side of the border between sounding coherent and launching into a 'nonsenseical rant' on the subject of rational thought - I thought it would make for a few good laughs.

That being said, two questions have come up that I would like to address. The first and by far the easier one to answer concerns my rationality. I don't presume to consider myself a rational being. Rather I'm stark raving mad , grasping at the frayed ends of rational thought from time to time. (Maybe I'm just using colorful words describing myself as 'stark raving mad' but for some odd reason it makes me really happy, so, I must really be mad.) [Please tell me you laughed at this one, or else!]

Now for the other question. Being someone who describes himself as a 'man without beliefs', where do I stand on the subject of faith? Nowhere really. Let me clarify. To me liberty is the ultimate and all-encompassing virtue. One who comprehends liberty will value equally his own and that of his fellow men. Thus, such a person automatically seeks the noble within himself. So then, where does the big G fit into all this?

What is God but a construct to rationalize morality (dharma, to be more precise)? It takes little effort to see that this is a construct very much of human making. The understanding that walking the right path is its own reward simply obviates the need for the construct. In essence, a truly rational atheist rejects not the ideal but merely the construct, the packaging of the idea, if you will. A long time ago, a very wise people put this succinctly when they said, “Anbe sivam”. And yet, those who now stand upon the shoulders of these are blind to this truth. Why? Because, millennia of intellectual lethargy have led to the construct replacing the very ideals it stood for. Method has given way to madness, vision to myopia. And the fear bred by myopia feeds on itself, restricting thought even more. Indeed, what a wonderful instrument of control the idea of blasphemy is!

Rather than launch into another lengthy tirade as I am wont to do, I will just say that ignorance is the villain, as always. And should the light of reason ever break through this fog, perhaps people of the different faiths and those of none may see that they are after all more alike than different.

P.S. What could be more human than hope?

Just words...

What's in a word? Everything, some say. That seems to be our collective point of view as a society. Why else would we fear some words so much? Invectives, the very sound of the word is ominous - as though, to say it out loud would invoke some dark malevolent power. Indeed we fear these words so much that we place restrictions on their public use, resorting to censorship even as we speak loftily of the freedom of expression. Such hypocrisy! What are mere words without thoughts behind them and actions ahead? NOTHING! (I'm not denying the power of words here. I'm merely pointing out the fact that the power of words stems from the thoughts that inspire them and the actions that they inspire.) And yet, we obsess over words rather than thoughts and actions. We shield our children, who are the best part of us, from words while it is the thoughts and actions that do them the most harm.

What makes us this way? It's simply laziness - intellectual and moral. We always want an easy out - morality for dummies, if you will. Do these ten things, don't do those ten and you're all set. It's easier to keep a few words out of one's vocabulary than to steer clear of malice, of envy and all things ugly. If only we had the courage to strive to find the right path every moment of our lives, we would see how blind we are to fear words. As a realist, I know that will never be - so I shall plod on, painting invectives for what they are... just words.

P.S. This post was written at Pingu's request to clarify my reasons for peppering my previous post so generously with four letter words and other choice gems from the English lexicon.

Madness returns... with a vengenace

No pretenses, circular nonsense follows! This post isn't going to go anywhere, it's not even going to try - it is going to be the purest form the abundant junk that primarily composes the Internet. Interesting, considering it would appear to be a perfect analogue to a person, yes a damn person! What the flying fuck does that mean? It means I'm calling the human race the biggest trash pile in the history of our rockpile - the planet we so lovingly named Earth, and the very same planet we choose to clusterfuck in innumerable ways.

Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it. - Confucius

[That's the attitude you need to have while reading my blog.]

This is the point where you're thinking, "Geez, what an arrogant prick this guy is!" Well, guess what, 'Oh exalted one', I never said I wasn't one. In fact, I've never said much about who I am, except that I consider myself a 'nobody'. The universe has no laws against nobodies being either raving lunatics or arrogant pricks on an ego-trip, or even both. So, what am I saying about myself? NOTHING!! If I knew something of consequence about myself, I probably wouldn't be writing crap like this.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. - Marcellus (William Shakespeare, Hamlet)

[Don't look at me. Whatever it is, I didn't do it!]

What do I know about myself then? I know I like chocolate. And, I know I hate three kinds of fuckbags more than all other kinds (I'll get to the different kinds of fuckbags later, maybe) - fuckbags who try to insinuate themselves into my life as though it were their birthright, fuckbags who presume to know what path I should take through life, and most of all, fuckbags who try to define reality using an explicit function. I mean, what the hell will it take for you to see how fucking stupid that is -an explicit function! Am I saying by implication that I think reality should be characterized using an implicit function? Fuck, NO!! If you're religious, you must understand that! If you're a rationalist, you must be in splits - yes, you are most welcome! And, if you're a religious rationalist, you are an oxymoron and a fucking moron! Someone should have told you that by now.

The gods offer no rewards for intellect. There was never one yet that showed any interest in it... - Mark Twain

[Really? I figured there must be one helluva reward for intellect. Why else would so many be out to kill it?]

Holy F Cow!! How quickly a post grows when content is not an issue! Once again, am I implying that my shorter posts have something in the way of content? Or even that that was ever the idea at least? Fuck, no! When will you ever learn? Half the problems humans have with fellow humans arise from the utterly naive assumption that simple logic can be applied to human behavior. People are many things - chiefly screwy and goofy. There, I said it. It's the wisdom of ages! People are screwy and goofy! Now will you hold off on the bloody assumptions? Look where they've gotten us!

Adversity is the first path to truth. - Lord Byron

[So, keep reading!]

On a random note (hey, I'm by no means saying that anything I've said thusfar was any less random. [sly grin]), if you're wondering about the rather prodigious use of profanity in this post, you must really believe that everything happens for a reason. Well, everything happens for a reason all right - Mr. Murphy's amusement! He loves your kind - especially the way you're always running around in circles with your hair in flames when shit happens.

Everything happens to everybody sooner or later if there is time enough. - George Bernard Shaw

[So, stop blaming me!]

Some of you must be scratching your heads as to why I capitalized the 'I' in Internet. (If you're not, you need to be more observant.) Well, that seems to be the convention when invoking entities that are omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent in nature and the Internet's not only damn close on all three counts but we also know for sure that it exists! That in my book definitely counts for something. (You didn't expect me to go this far without taking a pot-shot at the big G, did you?)

"God does not care about our mathematical difficulties. He integrates empirically." - Albert Einstein

[You and I have to live and die so that 'he' can get y=42?]

Those of you with live hamsters running within the wheel upstairs might recall my promise to discuss the different kinds of fuckbags there are. If it shocks you to know that I don't intend to keep my word, please DO NOT VOTE! Anyway, I'm getting tired from spewing all this drivel, so I'm going to take a break. (Finally, you have something to be really thankful for. Thankful to whom? ME. Because this reprieve that you're getting is my benefaction.) In any case, I think I've managed to give you a glimpse of what happens when a train of though derails - no, it's not pretty at all. So, indeed, you are most welcome.

P.S. No supreme beings where harmed during the writing of this post.

A momentary lapse of madness

"In solitude, we are least alone." - Lord Byron

The icy fingers of the wind played across the craggy mountainside, screaming a primeval lullaby; tough love. The wanderer looked up towards the sky, smiling. The stars smiled back. The stillness of solitude offered him a measure of peace. He wouldn't quite call it enlightenment, no, that would be too self-assured. Rather, he felt what could only be described as a certain sense of equilibrium - a feeling of comfort, of belonging. Call it hope, if you will. As the cold winter breeze washed over him, he felt strangely comforted. In some odd way, he felt warm. Far from the screams, the curses, and the tears, he was home. As he stood upon that mountain, time faded into irrelevance, the voices of the past drowned out by the howling wind. And the future waited patiently, in silence. All he heard was the wind's raspy voice, absorbing and soothing. At that moment, nothing existed beyond the mountain. Memory dared not interrupt his reverie. No, he had not forgotten the past, rather, he'd learned much from it. And, at that moment, he'd simply chosen not to summon his recollections. The heat from his intense inward gaze had burned away the cobwebs, so, he could finally see past the surreal gray facades. He smelled the roses, felt their thorns and appreciated both sensations equally. He was a child, once more. Ever onward, deeper inward; the wanderer would never stop.

This whole rant was inspired by the following quote which I encountered in John Krakauer's Into The Wild:

"No man ever followed his genius till it misled him. Though the result were bodily weakness, yet perhaps no one can say that the consequences were to be regretted, for these were a life in conformity to higher principles. If the day and night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal, ... That is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself. The greatest gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon forget them. They are the highest reality. ... The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched." - Henry David Thoreau, Walden or Life in the Woods.

Reflections in the red eye

How do you fight thoughts? How do you disconnect emotions from memories? By losing consciousness. Most people sleep through their entire lives without even realizing it. They are blissful in their ignorance.

Among the few who do perceive reality - they are the ones who see the gray that lies just under the facade of color, and the brilliant colour that lies past that gray - there are fewer still who are able to process the overwhelming barrage of sensory input and actually make something of it. The wise cut the glare by looking through a visor composed of patience and detachment. To the rest, however, reality is so loud, it's deafening and beyond comprehension - for the symmetry of the universe eludes the impatient eye. To see it for even the most fleeting of moments can precipitate an epiphany.

It is such an epiphany that can complicate things somewhat for an individual. For he now knows the endpoint but not the path that will lead him there. And in searching for this path, one learns repeatedly, the limitless extent of human inadequacies. Some are driven by an indescribable inner flame (call it curiosity, if you will) to to try again... and again. These are people who know the true nature of hope and see its beauty. Others, however, give up on the quest and even end up regretting their awakening, so to speak. These are the ones who try consciously to sleepwalk through life (a combination of fatigue and sleep deprivation works rather well, actually). It would smack of hubris for one to pity such sleepwalkers, especially so for one who has knowingly wasted years. The decent thing to do would be to offer hope and encouragement.

So, I shall end with a rather popular and often abused quote from Swami Vivekananda - "Arise, awake, and stop not till the goal is reached."