I suppose I enjoy writing as much as reading. Things on paper are happy to sit and leave my crowded head. The grand problem is a sort of question. I noticed IT contains a great variety of people who might otherwise be better suited to finding themselves in other domains of expertise. The loneliest man is the one with the most specialised knowledge. This leads to a fair assumption. What has us here with our ability to congently process things must be the loneliest being in existance.
Our language will require time to evolve before it can accurately describe abstract concepts like creation, life, death, all the big stuff. If I were to say a simple word like 'set', the number of meanings behind the utterance would require careful examination of circumstances to establish the intent.
That's how language works anyways. I'm quite sure someone before me has written all I've thought of and someone hence will do the same. In my own small way, writing myself perhaps even for myself is all I think I can do.
I marvelled at myself the other day. A form needed printing. I knew nothing about it, but inside 30 minutes, I had it filled out and printed. I can pretend to know so much. This is actually very bad for me. As a child, I would find myself in a state of inquiry and attempt to find an answer. The best efforts of parents and teachers often consisted of uninformed opinion. This was of course before the days of wide spread internet and wikipedia - though also before Yahoo answers, so I suppose i should be thankful.
My old University professor set us a race one day. He challanged half the class to find an algorithm in the library. The other half had to use the internet. The library team won. Books are much harder to destroy than electronic records.
My second point refers to having an ability to find yourself. Genetics chimes in here. My scant knowledge of the subject is based solely on a few documentaries I saw on TV. Marker genes appear to play a key role in our development. That whole argument goes back to Nature V Nuture though so it's a bit of a dead end.
The finest hour is almost here. Practical applicability of philosophy is something I should probably work on, though justifying faith sometimes necessitates leeway with logic. Logic fails faced with mysterious ways. We can trust it though I'd sooner trust a higher power. Logic is a tool born of mans hand.
Belief is a powerful idea.
Though I think perhaps I will be at a terrible loss someday. Even my own memory will some day succumb to senescence. I suspect Chris has hardly thought of the long term ramifications of setting up this site. These I believe are worthy writings so I'll copy them to my personal blog. I'm referring to the future of this post. Will I read it again in 20 years and smile at my simple foolishness? Maybe. If it's still here.
It might have been Freud who wrote about the death instinct. In order to give offspring a good shot at life, parents inevitably die. Life ends to begin anew. Only memory remains. But even memory fails eventually. Paper rots, magnets fade in potency, stones erode. Why do we not despair?
A head full of useless knowledge sits atop the body of the lonely man. He'll volunteer it readily to try and help. It is viewed as advice. Advice is a form of nostalgia (so says Baz Luhrman). He is dismissed, often without thanks, beneficial or otherwise. No one cares to hear it. The self, the brain and the body. All trying to work as best they can.
We simply go by as best we can. What more can be asked? I should wish for a better motivation than the pursuit of wealth though it's the best we have. People generally don't need any philosophy to toil and buy food nor should they. It is a wasteful burden. A part of me can be satisfied accepting the third option - don't worry about it. I think perhaps the grand problem might be the other part which cannot but stay active. This part wants to try and form some scaffold. Maybe an idle dalliance, but angry at being dismissed so. Written in a language few people would care to write, fewer would care to read and fewer still would care to comprehend at all.
Dense. Ha!
Are we free? Or are we shackled to our ties that bind? Family, friends, work... It all adds up to a life where we make a lot of decisions. These decisions can seem insignificant when made, but they often turn out to influence more than we initially realise. Our Free Will allows us to make these decisions. But what if we didn't have Our Free Will? Someone else would have to decide... Could you?
