My Novels

Monday, December 10, 2001

On my good days, I think there's a chance humanity will survive -- move into the cosmos, and continue to thrive. That is, until the universe-in-expansion factor eliminates everything. So at most, we'd only be buying time.

On my worst days, I think that humanity (and possibly all lifeforms) is an aberration, an abomination on the cosmos. That lifeforms are something akin to fungus or disease, a negative impact upon the cosmos and there's some sort of unknown factor at work which always eliminates such lifeforms before they get too far out of control (i.e. trying to control the cosmos).

And then, of course, the greater threat is that we'll simply destroy ourselves and the earth in the process.

In any of these scenarios, it seems to me that life itself is rendered meaningless. Only humans would try to 'give' it meaning. At my age, I've come to the conclusion that the only 'meaning' is in existence itself: to find something that makes living tolearable, such as learning and/or small pleasures/joy. IF my life ever becomes unbearable (due to physical/emotional suffering) I'd simply commit suicide.

All this is very simplistic; but really, isn't simplicity highly under-rated in today's world? I think the real problem is that humans try to create 'gods & myths' to help 'explain' or find 'meaning' in an otherwise pointless existence. Science has proven much of this to be folly, and if their experimentation doesn't destroy us, it will eventually discover some way for humans to conquer physical death. Or create robotic creatures that can exist indefinitely.

But one thing I believe will never happen: We can't control the cosmos itself, which brings us back to square one...just a matter of time till it all perishes.

{No, these conclusions aren't warm and fuzzy...but alas, I want to write about my own thoughts/ideas, regardless of how anyone reading it might react.}

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