Instruction of our youth provides not only intellectual guidance, but moral and ethical guidance. There are those who believe all potential humans are equal, and each individual can learn with similar ability. To a point this is true, but our personalities are shaped by our genetics, environment, inhibitions, preferences and desires. I think people believe we all are blank slates, but there has to be some type of base to make the imprint on. Two people raised in the exact same conditions will react differently to those conditions. It's the balance of reality that seems to be at play here. (See future write-ups on balance as well as waves). For instance, photons that were presented two holes to pass through seem to be dicated by the ones before it. If one chose one hole, the other chose the other hole. This to me is a natural check of keeping balance within nature. Two people presented the exact same circumstances will create slightly varying to completely different personalities. It's the lack of sameness that matters.
These differences shine light on our preferences towards the smarter, more attractive, more athletic; which is a preordained biological cue to better our species. We look for continuation of our own, however humans many times place special interest in the weak of our species. We value all life forms, allowing to over look nature to help the quality of life for others. Instead of labeling this as not-survival-of-the-fittest, perhaps this is a quality that makes humnanity unique. We provide for those that are less fortunate than us. At the same time, we often look away when the less fortunate are taken advantage of by fate. Our natural reaction to let nature take its course?
April 5, 2010
(PH) Our search for the end of Questioning
My bone-encrusted fat blob is sick of eating itself alive.
Could that be why so many creative geniuses kill themselves? I'm certainly safe if that's the case.
Thinking about it though, there are no true answers to be found. This blob of brain matter is working over time for nothing? In the buddhist sense there is no absolute. Direct that to the world of posing questions and you realize that one question merely raises more. You cannot find an absolute answer to a question. Unless you're a fact genius.
Perhaps these creative geniuses have figured out that the value of life is arbitrary, but they just can't accept it. After all, to determine that your life's work is arbitrary is kind of like saying that the work does nothing. However, emotional value and life enrichment tend to be integral parts of living a contented life, so creative geniuses do not despair.
As for Fact geniuses, they seem to have something to rely on; assigned values that are concrete and numerical, giving significance to a life of searching. An answer can be found, and the brain briefly satisified.
This whole discussion started for me after thinking about creative geniuses who have committed suicide. Depression, anger or grief over how their work is portrayed or used (think kurt cobain), outside life unhappiness, etc. are all typical suicide reasonings. But what if there's a thread of thought that is a bit more subconcious, a spiral of mental activity that lends it's self to the toilet bowl effect. The brain continues chasing itself, looking for more meaning, taking in more details and providing wilder explanations for queries and strings of thought loosely tied together. After a while, the brain loses touch with what we call reality, growing more expansive in its reach for explanations and connections.
Drugs seem to send people on an accelerated pace to this mind-boundary. There are very few who would argue with me if I said that drugs have produced some interesting as well as absolutely breath-taking work. We can't deny the sheer creative genius of somebody like Hendrix or Hunter S. Thompson. But many times, at the end of the road the brain is burnt and smoldering, sputtering out random sentence fragments and disconnected thought-strains. The drugs took hold, bringing the brain beyond its creative threshold.
Bob Dylan. Try to look me in the eyes and tell me that he would have been exactly the same without doing a few drugs.
Or that's an explanation in it's own right. The brain only has so much creative juice, and after a while the creativity reaches a no-man's land, or implodes on itself like a neutron star. The drugs are merely rocket fuel.
I feel like I should be waving from that space right now!
Could that be why so many creative geniuses kill themselves? I'm certainly safe if that's the case.
Thinking about it though, there are no true answers to be found. This blob of brain matter is working over time for nothing? In the buddhist sense there is no absolute. Direct that to the world of posing questions and you realize that one question merely raises more. You cannot find an absolute answer to a question. Unless you're a fact genius.
Perhaps these creative geniuses have figured out that the value of life is arbitrary, but they just can't accept it. After all, to determine that your life's work is arbitrary is kind of like saying that the work does nothing. However, emotional value and life enrichment tend to be integral parts of living a contented life, so creative geniuses do not despair.
As for Fact geniuses, they seem to have something to rely on; assigned values that are concrete and numerical, giving significance to a life of searching. An answer can be found, and the brain briefly satisified.
This whole discussion started for me after thinking about creative geniuses who have committed suicide. Depression, anger or grief over how their work is portrayed or used (think kurt cobain), outside life unhappiness, etc. are all typical suicide reasonings. But what if there's a thread of thought that is a bit more subconcious, a spiral of mental activity that lends it's self to the toilet bowl effect. The brain continues chasing itself, looking for more meaning, taking in more details and providing wilder explanations for queries and strings of thought loosely tied together. After a while, the brain loses touch with what we call reality, growing more expansive in its reach for explanations and connections.
Drugs seem to send people on an accelerated pace to this mind-boundary. There are very few who would argue with me if I said that drugs have produced some interesting as well as absolutely breath-taking work. We can't deny the sheer creative genius of somebody like Hendrix or Hunter S. Thompson. But many times, at the end of the road the brain is burnt and smoldering, sputtering out random sentence fragments and disconnected thought-strains. The drugs took hold, bringing the brain beyond its creative threshold.
Bob Dylan. Try to look me in the eyes and tell me that he would have been exactly the same without doing a few drugs.
Or that's an explanation in it's own right. The brain only has so much creative juice, and after a while the creativity reaches a no-man's land, or implodes on itself like a neutron star. The drugs are merely rocket fuel.
I feel like I should be waving from that space right now!
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