Never
Come What May
- Joined
- Jun 20, 2000
- Posts
- 23,234
My mind is like a wastebasket. Piles upon piles of crumpled bits and pieces of information, a thought here, a memory there, my phone number, the correct spelling of 'literotica' and that idea that 'this too shall pass'.
'This' meaning me, myself, and I.
My 11th grade Biology teacher once claimed that humans were the only animals aware of their mortality. I did, and still do, disagree with that statement: animals are more than aware of death. They see it, touch it, and face it on a daily basis. Elephants and dolphins often go into 'morning' stages after the death of a close friend or family member, displaying many signs of grief, sadness, and loss. The simple awareness that that which was, is now not and shall never be again is engrained into our very cells.
The difference between humans and animals is that:
1. Humans think of these things when they don't need to; meaning when they aren't starving, hunted, or ill.
2. Humans don't believe in it.
The one species that can contemplate death and dying has decided (pretty much) that it doesn't exist. Every religion hold that death isn't real. People don't stop existing, they are simply reincarnated, move on to a different 'plane of existence', or become one with the (infinite) universe. Even those who profess to not believe in any religion often consider death as part of a circle of rebirth - as though my Neverness might be transferred to the cherry tree that consumes my broken down proteins and nitrates.
As I consume my turkey this Christmas I doubt I will gain much Turkeyness (not a word from the peanut gallery please). The most that bird might hope for is that I remember it as a decent meal (might have hoped for, I should say, as its fresh corpse is taking most of the space in my fridge at the moment.)
'This too shall fade.'
I do not remember last year's turkey and while my memory shall last, a bit longer (I hope) as those that loved me age the neurons won't flicker as brightly in their cortex. They'll forget how to pronounce my name (it rhymed with 'annoy'), forget the constant little cough, the slow rhythm of my speech, the hand gestures which look just like my mother's and the majority of what I said or did.
It might take a generation or two but it will happen and then where will I be? Not even a memory, I haven't become an UnNever, or even a used to be Never. I'm simply not, the only word to describe me is dead - the unverb - a verb being an action or state of being.
You'll be dead too of course. In a couple billion years the sun will expand and Earth will be scorched and cindered lifeless - though it's quite likely that the human race will expire within a million years or so and with it our ideas, thoughts, inventions, buildings, money, politics, cities, countries and, of course, the religions which promised us immortality.
I'll return to the past and to the questions: So, now what?
You all know my answer; though I search for meaning it slip like sand through my fingers. Everything is finite and so, in the final analysis, meaningless. In the end it doesn't really matter who you are or what you say, do, think, who you love or hate and whether you voted for Bush or Gore.
We'd not motes in the eye of God, we're motes in the eye of a Void. Physicists have long known that life in the universe is almost impossible, improbable. As though a tornado had torn through a pile of scrap metal and created a working 451 Boeing. We're all mathematical anomalies, a point which does not fall on the grid, a freak exception that ignores the rule. You have a better chance of wining the lottery than existing, however, as a consolation prize we can always enjoy our unique status - but not for long.
Mortality is the universe's own adherence to order.
Ever,
Never.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'This' meaning me, myself, and I.
My 11th grade Biology teacher once claimed that humans were the only animals aware of their mortality. I did, and still do, disagree with that statement: animals are more than aware of death. They see it, touch it, and face it on a daily basis. Elephants and dolphins often go into 'morning' stages after the death of a close friend or family member, displaying many signs of grief, sadness, and loss. The simple awareness that that which was, is now not and shall never be again is engrained into our very cells.
The difference between humans and animals is that:
1. Humans think of these things when they don't need to; meaning when they aren't starving, hunted, or ill.
2. Humans don't believe in it.
The one species that can contemplate death and dying has decided (pretty much) that it doesn't exist. Every religion hold that death isn't real. People don't stop existing, they are simply reincarnated, move on to a different 'plane of existence', or become one with the (infinite) universe. Even those who profess to not believe in any religion often consider death as part of a circle of rebirth - as though my Neverness might be transferred to the cherry tree that consumes my broken down proteins and nitrates.
As I consume my turkey this Christmas I doubt I will gain much Turkeyness (not a word from the peanut gallery please). The most that bird might hope for is that I remember it as a decent meal (might have hoped for, I should say, as its fresh corpse is taking most of the space in my fridge at the moment.)
'This too shall fade.'
I do not remember last year's turkey and while my memory shall last, a bit longer (I hope) as those that loved me age the neurons won't flicker as brightly in their cortex. They'll forget how to pronounce my name (it rhymed with 'annoy'), forget the constant little cough, the slow rhythm of my speech, the hand gestures which look just like my mother's and the majority of what I said or did.
It might take a generation or two but it will happen and then where will I be? Not even a memory, I haven't become an UnNever, or even a used to be Never. I'm simply not, the only word to describe me is dead - the unverb - a verb being an action or state of being.
You'll be dead too of course. In a couple billion years the sun will expand and Earth will be scorched and cindered lifeless - though it's quite likely that the human race will expire within a million years or so and with it our ideas, thoughts, inventions, buildings, money, politics, cities, countries and, of course, the religions which promised us immortality.
I'll return to the past and to the questions: So, now what?
You all know my answer; though I search for meaning it slip like sand through my fingers. Everything is finite and so, in the final analysis, meaningless. In the end it doesn't really matter who you are or what you say, do, think, who you love or hate and whether you voted for Bush or Gore.
We'd not motes in the eye of God, we're motes in the eye of a Void. Physicists have long known that life in the universe is almost impossible, improbable. As though a tornado had torn through a pile of scrap metal and created a working 451 Boeing. We're all mathematical anomalies, a point which does not fall on the grid, a freak exception that ignores the rule. You have a better chance of wining the lottery than existing, however, as a consolation prize we can always enjoy our unique status - but not for long.
Mortality is the universe's own adherence to order.
Ever,
Never.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
