Showing posts with label oh dear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oh dear. Show all posts

Sunday, 20 March 2011

A Universal Truth

Guest Blogger: Ben Nardone 



Imagine: It’s Sunday evening. You’re a science geek. At 9pm you arm yourself with a steaming mug of coffee and curl up in front of the telly in time to see Professor Brian Cox on “Wonders of the Universe.” Why? What is it about learning the secrets of something so big you need never seriously concern yourself with it that grips you?

This week, Mr. Universe extended the tale of Gravity: the very thing that shapes and governs our universe; the Ghost in the Machine. From fighter jets to black holes, the high-cheeked host successfully packed a ton of superficial physics into an hour, as with every other week.

Indeed, it is captivating. One becomes lost in wonder, in awe, in questions. . .but, again, why?! What is the point in knowing so much about things we simply cannot change, and the majority of which does not affect our daily lives?

There are, of course, a multitude of answers - the thrilling CGI galactic scenarios; the ingenious relation to ordinary people; the highly stylised escapism from daily life; the burning need to know as much about the grand scheme of things as possible. . .

Whichever of these answers one may place oneself under, there is a clear, definitive element in each: you are interested! If you weren’t, you wouldn’t watch (unless there is some other convoluted reason which, for purposes of this passage, we shall ignore the possibility of). In fact, Professor Cox himself has stated that he simply thinks “people are interested.” And indeed, some of us are.

So there we have it: occassionally one may indulge in the enthralling exploration of extra-terrestrial excavation, then descend back into “real life,” a life inside society, politics, economy, and various other superstructures of humanity.

However, it is my personal perspective on the matter, that skewes the above notion.

I consider myself to be a reasonably intelligent and fair-minded chap who examines things as objectively as possible (most of the time), and is able to overcome most troubles of life through reasoned thinking. However, amongst other things, I am regularly disturbed and upset by the superstructures I have been born into. They cause me to feel lost, bewildered, and depressed. Fortunately, though, there is a range of potential temporary escapism routes provided for a creative-minded individual such as myself - the media. Furthermore, a little strum on the ukulele and a verse or two of something, and I can be right as rain.

What this solution does not cater for, however, is something I have carried since birth, a silent concern that many carry: the fear of death. It is this inescapable fate that cannot be cured - only soothed. That said, many find peace of mind in the arts or other hobbies and interests. I, however, overcome the fear of my consciousness ending in learning about the universe.

By concerning myself with the things that are vastly more mature and bigger than I am, I am immediately calmed. Simply being a part of the most incredibly complex, powerful, rich structure in existence gives me strength to live each day in an almost-totally-peaceful-type state. For many, considering the universe implies their personal meaninglessness. For me, it is the greatest meaning one can have, and in accepting it, you become immortal.

To use words similar to those of the good professor, every atom in my body came from the same place as every other atom in the universe, and ultimately, they are all part of the same thing.

Herein, I believe, lies the true, perhaps sub-conscious answer as to why some people are so interested in the universe. We are each a tiny manifested piece of it, and thus have the right to know and the right to want to know.

Sunday, 12 December 2010

Thesmophoriazusae

I think it's all been a bit too personal round these parts the last few weeks. 

"Duh, it's a blog bag of slime-filth!" I hear you cry from behind your packet of sultanas...eh! - Well that's exactly what todays little ramble is about. Well it's about two things, the first is rambliness, and how it can amuse, and secondly it's randomness, a term a loath, but also hold up as an over-simplification of what my 'method' or 'voice' is, if there is such a thing.



(Yes, shush, I shall waffle about this for as long as I like, go and play with your genitals in the corner!) 


I like to assess and self-reflect that my life, and life in general is an arbritary sequence, we have no free-will, just a series of choices, we live, we die, we know why not, we never will, an absurdist mantra if you will. Now, there is a little way to cheat the stalking cuck-eyed existentialist beast, HUMOUR and DRIFTING, if one is jangled, tussled, nudged and occasionally tripped into different spheres and areas of life, without your prior consent, and if you live within your means, or stay with people you can tolerate, your life is made for you without you having to have made it. I like this. This is untrue but I like it.... for the most-part that is... 


This is where it all comes into play; people (friends - believe it or not, although I must be using the wrong term) have levelled

Have to start again. An acquantance of mine recently said 'You don't have to use every single thing you write' tempered with an exhaustive sigh; I put this in the criticism pile along with 'self-indulgent' and 'poor grammar and spelling', but it is true, I am a horder... horder of my own words, ideas, plots and fantasies, as I spend a lot of my waking life immersed in them, they are the sports and hobbies, cooking, love and sex of others, but all the neurons and synapses I have are all devoted to the rotting stream of garbage that leaks from my fingertips.... Oh christ, I am not getting my wind up this blog this evening....

I was going ruminate and expunge on the ideas of my randomly slotting ideas together, and how on first appearence you may not know what the hell I am going on about and think it all madness and jibberish, but as Polonius says 'this be madness, though there is method in it'... there is something behind it, not always considered... a sort of Jackson Pollock of thoughts and ideas... there are more ellipticals than punctuation, more apologies than spelling...

I could let one into my secrets for example MY TITLE - the apparent random title looks pretty and special, but is plucked from random and does not signify anything that follows CRAZY, not so - my whole dead brain-stem was trying to arouse itself through a 'random blog-generator' throwing up subjects, one was ARISTOTLE'S PHILOSOPHY, I read up on old Ari and went on to Socrates then onto Aristohanes, and one of his surviving plays bears the above title.... *gasp*

And the other point I was going to make was on how transient the nature of life is, the whole 'WE RENT THIS WORLD' mentality, but whereas in youth this terrified me, and in adolescences gave a failed hedonism which was simply meagre self-destruction, now in the very first flush of adulthood, barely, I think it may be a positive thing, it creates modesty, throws posterity into the flame, and gives rise to THE MOMENT, my favourite thing, I attain, so rarely, and it's that THE PRESENT MOMENT - which when I write has the same feeling, of churning out the words to suit the mood of the moment, but it is not of the moment.... And that's why I no longer horde my words as much, my ego has shrunk and become realistic...

Muhummed On A Ski-Lift! I must apologize for this evening - normal service will be resumed soon - think of tonights offering as a transcript of scribbled notes from a note-book written whilst in a fit of stupidity .

NIGHT.