Pearls of Wisdom

My dear, perceptive reader, please find it in your heart to forgive my long, unannounced absence from the blogosphere. I have no excuses to offer you, for any that may spring from the touch of my fingers against this keyboard will, at best, be half baked, and quite frankly, an insult to your intelligence. All I have to say is, I hope to pick up where I left off, and yet, start afresh, a paradox the likes of which I have grown all too fond of perpetrating.

For this particular, heralding as it does my revival, I'll leave you with what I consider a little gem. I came up with this a week or so ago, and the extenuating circumstance which I shall use in my plea for mercy for inflicting it upon you, I shall expound in some detail a little later.

For now: "Life is about searching for, finding and picking out diamonds from a heap, not of coal, but of glass oh-so-glittering".

I'll leave you to ponder this over. Please form your own interpretations and send them back to me as your comments to this post. I'll explain what I originally intended this to mean, again, as is my nature, with no heed to brevity, in my next post.

For now, my dear reader, fare thee well!!

THE AISLES OF PARADISE

It is indeed my great pleasure to see you once again, my dear, perceptive reader. In the three weeks or so that I have been away from you, trust me when I say that I have thought a lot about you. Funny thing, memory, isn’t it? Perhaps I delude myself in believing that you are still out there, that you are still listening to what I have to say; whereas in reality, you could be a million miles away, on an endless beach of white sand somewhere in the tropics. Wait…. Did I say ‘reality’?? Scratch that. What indeed is reality? I say you are out there, eagerly hanging on to my every word, and so, you are.

This little flight of fancy I indulge in is all very well and fine, for it doesn’t have any ramifications. And yet, in some kind of cosmic tragedy, we, the only mammals to have the ability to imagine in a sentient manner, are the only ones so fettered by our trappings that we dare not. Our lives are filled with the harsh realities of the ‘real’ world, and we are left disillusioned, indeed if not disgusted. But then where can this little bird in our head, so eagerly beating its wings against its cage, take flight. Why, inside our head, of course. We have a whole little world in there, don’t we? The world of our pasts, the world that lead up to the now, that will lead on to the morrow? Isn’t it just lying there, our experiences, just waiting for us to unleash our complete repertoire of fancy on it?

Your memories are yours and yours alone. They aren’t controlled by the vagaries of what we, in our naïveté, call civilization. They are yours to do as you please. My dear reader, perceptive as you are, you may realize that I am partly rehashing over an earlier piece of mine, but bear with me nonetheless. For memory is indeed a strange thing. You realize that there is no such thing as an ‘accurate’ memory? There is only a platform, a viewing station, so to speak, from which only the keenest of observers can see, floating in the mists, other platforms, other viewing stations. But the coup de grace is yet to come. One must realize that there is no need for an accurate memory. Our perceptions of right and wrong, our judgment of true and false will suffice to show us the path.

But memory can indeed deceive, as many through the ages have pointed out. But it is indeed a sweet deception, one I welcome, not shun. Life is in trauma, not specifically, but very generally. Look around. It is akin to the seething froth of water on rock so feared by mariners. And yet, we must, as must they, endure it. And the lifeline we cling to, the sight of land, to stretch the metaphor a little further, is memory, and the dream of things to be. For the past and the future are not distinct, they are not separated by the now. On the memories of your yesterday are overlaid the dreams of your tomorrow, and the paths that you walk as you stroll through this wonderland are akin to the paths of Eden indeed.

Condemn one not for clinging to ones illusions, for it is a lifejacket to a drowning man, water to a parched throat, a lone sunbeam through the clouds of a thunderstorm. Instead, look to join him on the paths he wanders, and then make your own way. Look around, and try not to separate the ‘have beens’ from the ‘should have beens’ and the ‘should bes’. Instead, marvel at the kaleidoscope that arises at the fusion of the three, and enjoy. Make peace with the past, and look forward with hope to the future. Life is hard, and such stolen moments, trysts with ones self, are what make it worth the while.

With that, I shall take my leave of you for now, my dear reader, if indeed you are there at all. But I shall leave you with a very interesting thought…. Memory is a strange thing. It disappoints at first, but it is a way of holding on to the things you are, the things you love, the things you wish to never lose, and the things you wish time ignored. In a world that changes too fast, sometimes all one can do is hold on to memory, and wish one another a happy life…… and good luck.

THE WORD UNSPOKEN

My dear, perceptive reader; I was watching 'The Wonder Years' last evening and one episode in particular inspired me to pen down my first piece of verse in a long, long time. Now, i realize it isn't anything great, no rhyme, no meter, just vers libre, but i believe it says something.

Poets write, bards sing
Men from world over come… come to hearken
For that is the power of the word written
It can and does make gloomy rooms undarken
And you, my lad, strapping and young
Where goes you now? Partake you not
of words that drip like honey from their tongue?
Nay, say you? the sun is for souls unfrittered?
Words are fair, indeed…
Of rainbows and clouds they sing
But what knoweth they of the heart
That like a chime bell rings
Words brighten a room, say you?
Perhaps you speak the truth
But what, ask I can the word do
That a soft hand on the back cannot?
Leave I my heart in the frigid air of winter
Warm it certainly your words do not
Life is but a tapestry, words the dye
But look, look at the patterns beneath
And for my part say I,
Blow out the candles, let the room darken
And let me hear in the night the word unspoken.

Until next time then, goodbye, my dear reader.

SELENE’S BOW

My dear, perceptive reader, I come back to you today with an incident, an anecdote, if you will, which set off a rather…….shall we say, unusual chain of thought within me.

About half a week ago, I saw one of the most beautiful sights of my life, a lunar rainbow!! The light of the moon differentially refracted by the mass of the clouds framing her face, creating a ring of colours, like a halo around a saint, only this was no ordinary saint I saw that day, assuredly, it was a bearer of the passion.

But, unfortunately, I had on me at that time, no way to capture the moment. So, trudging back to my room, I put out my feelers by means of that most loyal of friends, Google!! On a whim, I searched for rainbow paintings, and found not a few, but absolutely NO paintings with a lunar rainbow as the artists muse. So I asked myself, as I ask you now, my dear reader, why the lopsidedness? Why are the bursts of vibrant colour considered the sole prerogative of Helios, who cries rivers of gold? Why is Selene (Luna of the Romans) relegated to a backseat, her display of colour considered merely an aberration, something adorable, no doubt, but yet not grand or worthy of immortalization through the hands of an artist? Why must this fairest of the gods; pale maiden with the very stars as her freckles on her fair visage, sister of the Sun, mistress of the silver chariot, dispeller of the dark, temperamental as a teenager and yet mature and consistent as a matriarch, why must she be marginalized thus? This favorite of many poets, especially love poets bathes the world with her silvery light, especially beautiful when it caresses the water of a brook, bringing the feeling of romance. It is said that Selene's moon rays fall upon sleeping mortals, as her kisses fell upon her love, Endymion.

Why do we express awe at the sun and its majesty and yet treat the moon as naught but a toddler, to be coddled but yet not taken seriously? All this does is expose a larger malaise in society, our inability to break free of the bias of the collective consciousness. We form our opinions based on the opinions of our fathers and are very reluctant to discard and/or change them.

To be very honest, I am afraid of the sun. The idea of so much power in the hands of something so temperamental, so unstable terrifies me. And yet, on the other hand, Selene like a mother comes out and coddles me each night. Even on the nights she is absent, I still feel her presence, and know she is watching over me and smiling. Her power is subtle, a far cry from the blazing infernos of her brother Helios, and yet it is no less strong. She is, after all, the mistress of the waters. From her immortal head a radiance is shown from heaven and embraces earth; and great is the beauty that arises from her shining light. But then one wonders, why is she not accorded the same status in the Pantheon as is her brother? Is it just a lack of fear, a narrowness of perspective? Why, my dear reader, does one not realize that the light of the moon, while just as useful as that of the sun, poses no threat at all to us. It is a benign light, a light born of the smile of a lovely lady, a fair goddess. And yet, she looks down upon us and weeps, but even in her weeping she gives to you, my dear perceptive reader, her “Rivers of Silver”.

BELLUM OMNIUM CONTRA OMNES

My dear, perceptive reader, one of the immortal classics of socio-political literature is Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes, written in 1651. The purpose of this post is solely to discuss the aforementioned phrase, famous today perhaps in a context different from that which Hobbes originally intended. Literally translated, it means ‘The war of every man against every other’. Hobbes intended it to refer to the concept of civil war, and how a strong governmental figure was required to counter these particular urges of man. I shall add a twist to the interpretation, and use it to discuss the concepts of Darwinian evolution and the eternal battle of idealism vs. realism.

Most believe the concepts of Darwinian evolution to be the ultimate expression of anthropocentrism, and thus it is consciously rejected by many ecologists, deep or otherwise. On the other hand, phrases such as ‘for the greater good of the species’ give middle aged couch potatoes and emotionally repressed housewives a warm glow in the belly. It is a comfortable thought, is it not? Unfortunately, the reality is as far removed from this as the earth from the sun. To quote again from Hobbes, ‘The life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short’. A human thinks first ONLY of himself, for himself. Here, we see a shift from anthropocentrism to egocentrism, in a manner of speaking (I know the parallel is not exact, but it is the best I could come up with). Even those few ‘enlightened’ souls (note the inverted commas) who claim to put society over their selves are only deluding themselves. No one, and I mean no one, is going to act for the greater good if it harms them. It’s just not done. Not only is it impossible, but quite frankly, it is inconceivable. This is the proverbial ‘Tragedy of the Commons’. Once more, I am certain I am in for a load full of protests from all quarters, but I believe I owe it to myself.

My dear reader, I’m fairly certain that by now, you have figured out how I plan to extrapolate the argument to the idealism vs. realism debate. Nevertheless, I shall take the liberty of boring you a little further, more for my own benefit than yours. Idealists seem to believe that life is a bed of roses, devoid of thorns, of course. They actually believe that faith can move mountains. However, using a truncated form of Hobbes again, ‘The life of man is solitary’. Each man follows his individual path in life, independent of any and all others. And, considering for instance, India herself, that’s more than a billion paths. Now, as any statistics student would easily tell you, the larger the cardinality of any sample space, the more consistent the statistical mean will be, more immune to the minor deviations introduced by the vagaries of individuals. My point is this; the mean path which, in turn, is the path of the entire country, is invariant, regardless of the actions of any person. This is what sociologists call ‘Social Inertia’, and in a society the size of our country, that inertia is immense!! While we have all the power to choose our own actions and influence our own fates, the same is not true for the whole. More on this, you my dear reader must have already seen here.

With this, my dear reader, I shall take your leave for now. I hope I have impressed upon you the wisdom of Thomas Hobbes and the seeming futility of idealism (note that I mentioned ‘seeming’, more on that later). As always, I look forward to your views on the matter. Farewell… until the next time we meet!!

A BREACH OF COURTESY? A PARADIGM SHIFT?

My dear, perceptive reader; I come back to you today with a short post about a little anecdote. Earlier today, as I was walking out of the classroom, I failed to notice a lady acquaintance of mine. Well, to cut a long story shot, she hailed me back and after a few polite exchanges, we said our goodbyes. No big deal, say you? Perhaps. But one point struck me. A few decades ago, in the Victorian Era, it would have been considered a heinous breach of courtesy to ignore a lady, no matter how concerned you may be with other, pressing matters. And yet, here, it was brushed aside as though it was nothing.

Perhaps my judgment is warped by the fact that I read too many novels by Victorian authors when I was younger, but those little niceties, quaint and outdated as they may be, have always appealed to me. As I cycled away from the aforesaid encounter, the delayed realization struck me!! Something had definitely changed. But what was it? Was it me? Or is it society has ‘evolved’ sufficiently to ignore such common courtesies? Is this the outcome of the ‘Neo-Hellenistic’ revolution?? Am I alone in having a problem with the turn of events?

With that thought, I leave you, my dear, perceptive reader. As always, I invite you to form your own opinions, and request you to share them with me.

THE GOLDEN FLEECE

My dear, perceptive reader, I come back to you today with more of my inchoate musings about the mundane. Perhaps in no other thing is displayed as clearly incontrovertible proof of the takeover of the technological age and its associated social implications as in the morning routine of a typical IITian. Consider, for instance, yours truly, I wake up in the morning, thanks largely to a voice alarm which, trust me, is as irritating as it is effective. My first action in the morn is to yawn and sleepily toggle the switch on my desk onto the ‘ON’ position, do the same to my UPS device and switch on my computer. (Note that I make no mention of performing my morning ablutions prior to this)

Thankfully, I have a fast, reliable for the most part, internet connection available in my room at all not-so-unearthly hours. I shudder to think of how my life would be without the internet. For those as intensely private as yours truly, it is a godsend, no less!! It allows me to maintain the essential interaction with other members of the human race, but yet it allows me to have it on my own terms.

Consider, for a moment, my dear reader, the vast myriad of social networking websites and instant messaging (IM) services. I myself use way too many of the afore-mentioned for my own good. Anyway, I am reasonably certain that the creators of this concept had in mind not its use by people like me, but rather by those extroverts who like nothing better in life than to make new friends. But, foreseen or otherwise, my kind owes an eternal debt to the creation and its creators.

But I digress. The reason for this post was another. I wished to highlight the point that say, GTalk, provides an interface for interaction which is intensely comfortable. I do not have to subject myself to the actual presence of the person with whom I wish to converse or vice versa. (No offense intended, of course) There is an indescribable romance, a mystery to IMing which for some reason, chooses not to reveal itself to me. Yet, I sense that it is there, teasingly, tantalizingly just outside my reach. Don’t you feel it too, my dear reader? Don’t you feel the charm of the chat window, the mystique of multiple interpretations to every line typed, the incredible convenience (to those insecure few) of being able to consider what you say before you actually say it!! Aren’t you, with such a interface, much less likely to put your overly large foot in your mouth??

A case in point for this argument is the use of the call function of GTalk. How many of us actually use it? And when we do use it, it is rare to do so for a full blown conversation rather than a few terse statements, very breve and business-like.

And yet, it is not without its drawbacks. Over such an interface, you see but a façade, only that part of the other the other wants you to see in the first place. You have to inkling of the true nature of the man behind the words. (Or woman, I shall not be accused of sexism) IM is, borrowing from an old fable, the golden fleece which can make the wolf seem a lamb.

One wonders about the cause of this unprecedented comfort level experienced over this interface. As always, I have my own opinions. (Yeah right, big surprise!!) I believe that no one ever truly opens up in a conversation, be t face to face or otherwise. A shield is always raised, invariably. It is just that in a face to face conversation, your counterpart has many more opportunities to sneak peeks of the real you. On the other hand, in an internet conversation, the benefits are dual; the shield can be raised with less effort and also the other cannot penetrate it without substantial effort.

Well, I’m afraid I shall have to truncate this discussion abruptly. I leave it to you, my dear perceptive reader, to form your own opinions and, as always, live on the hope that you shall share them with me.

A TAPESTRY IN GREYSCALE

ETHICS OF AN ATHEIST

My dear, perceptive reader; I have oft wondered at the power of atheism to unite theists across multitude of religions. Whatever their other differences, they invariably set these aside and join forces in the condemnation of the atheist. Invariably, when I inform someone that I am an atheist, their immediate reaction is to form that silent ‘Oh’!! I can almost hear their thoughts….. “If you don’t believe in God, there’s nothing to prevent you from committing crimes, is there? Without the fear of hell-fire and eternal damnation, you can do anything you like, can’t you?”

At times, such queries seem almost laughable, a portrayal of naïveté, so to speak; but at still others, they are frankly disturbing, as the message they convey is that a vast majority of theists still consider us atheists as the lowest scum of society!! Many people consider the phrase ‘an ethical atheist’ to be an oxymoron. Assuredly, ‘tis not so. Quite the contrary, in fact. The behavior of atheists is subject to the same rules of sociology, psychology and neurophysiology as the rest of the general population. Granted, we, as a group, do not fear retribution in an afterlife, but that hardly serves to infer that we are any less ethical than theists.

Ethics as a group, arise not out of fear, but are a natural consequence of the evolution if society. Atheists are capable of governing their own moral behavior and getting along in society the same way as anyone else. At the risk of labeling the atheist as self-centered, it does not serve the best interests of an atheist to have a radically different set of ethics from the rest of society. Basically, society will only put up with so much if it is to function smoothly. So, if an atheist wants to get along and have a decent life, it makes sense for him to be honest, work hard, pay his bills, and get along with others. Basically, he has to adopt a set of ethics common to society in order to do that. Belief in God is not a requirement for ethical behavior or an enjoyable life.

On the other hand, I must concede that the ethical system we follow is by no means rigid. It is an evolving, changing entity. The closest thing we have to an ethical absolute is the legal system of our respective countries. The principle we follow is essentially this ‘Whatever works out best for all involved, must be right’. I must admit, I can see where theists might have a problem with this. It looks suspiciously like hypocrisy, doesn’t it? Again, a common misconception. It would amount to hypocrisy if one looks purely at the situation at hand, rather than the background and events leading up to it. In my opinion, in today’s day and age, it is hardly feasible to have a blanket set of ethics, covering all possible situations under one code.

Consider, merely as an example, the practice of abortion. Unlike the Catholic Church, I do not condemn the practice outright. Nor am I an outspoken proponent of it. I believe we must consider each case by its individual merits and demerits. For instance, I might oppose abortion in the case of an affluent woman in her early 30’s with no health problems who wants to delay motherhood in order to focus on her career. On the other hand, I would support it in the case of a young teenage girl in a third world country, who just made a mistake.

I must reiterate here that an atheist’s ethics are based on the same principles of love, patience, understanding and general welfare as those of any religion. It’s just that, I believe, we have a tendency to look beyond the obvious to what lurks hidden in the shadows. Our ethical system is by no means clearly delineated into regions of wrong and right, black and white, but rather, as the title suggests, is an intricate tapestry of different shades of grey!!

*(Here, I must implore the reader to forgive my occasional and seemingly random from second person to the first and vice versa at many places in the above article. It is difficult to maintain a generic view on a topic so close to one’s heart)

**(Also, I would very much appreciate the readers thoughts on the matter. A different viewpoint often helps one to see the truth clearer J)

THE ILLUSION OF ‘I’

My dear perceptive readers, before I begin, I must implore you to forgive these few awkward lines. What I mean to write of today is no more than a transcript of certain nebulous thoughts floating in my head. I perceive the most fragile of connections, the merest beginnings of sense, no more.

Oft have I wondered, what is the concept of the ‘I’?? Indeed, it is one of the mysteries of life. The closest anybody has ever come to describing it is, I think, the vague, ephemerous term of ‘Anthrocentrism’. Self-delusion is something all of us have, at some point in our lives or other, almost certainly indulged in. Each and every man (and woman, to my many vices shall not be added sexism) believes that he or she is the most important person in the world. Oh, do not get me wrong, I do not say that we voice these beliefs openly, or that we are monsters of our pride. Not at all. In fact, we are perfectly aware that it is neither admirable nor useful to be driven by pride, so we try to subdue that drive, but we might as well disapprove of having oneself powered by one’s heartbeat. Intellectually, we recognize ourselves as merely a part of a greater whole, but not really; not in our guts, which, incidentally, is where an average persons thinking mechanism is located.

But, I wonder, is this delusion really as bad as it is made up to be? Isn’t it this very indulgence that drives a man towards success? And I answer myself, indeed, it is so. But, there is always a ‘but’, isn’t there? In this case, there is no doubt that each and every one of us is a big fish, the ‘but’ simply arises in our ability to identify the appropriate pond. We are indeed the centers of our respective worlds, only the world has become a lot smaller. In the large scale, one is no more than a component, and, this is the cinematic moment of revelation with big bass beats, by no means an irreplaceable one. Here, I must add that this is a revelation which, as far as my perception goes, cannot seep into ones consciousness steadily. It has to hit one with the full force of a speeding automobile suddenly encountering a brick wall.

One must realize that in the grand scheme of human civilization, there is no single person who is truly important. I have no doubt that, by making this assertion, I have condemned myself to heated arguments from many quarters, most of them armed with examples. I’ll quote a few myself. Newton and Einstein are the cornerstones of science today. Great men, no doubt. But do you truly believe that without them, science would not have progressed? Would no one have invented the technique of calculus or discovered gravity? Would no one have introduced the concept of relativity? Of course someone would have done it!! Perhaps the achievement would have come a little later, but it would have come nonetheless. The single greatest engineering feat of the last 150 years is the IC engine. But, in the long run, does it really matter who invented it or if its invention was delayed by a decade or two? Would the Second World War have taken place if Hitler had never been born? Of course it would have!! The sweep of history is inexorable, inescapable. The socio-economic pressures which led to the War had nothing to do with Hitler. He was merely the catalyst. Same goes for Gandhi, or any major historical figure. Even if none of them had ever existed, I believe that the world today would not have been quite different, in essentials, from what it is today.

Isaac Asimov, in his groundbreaking Foundation series, introduced a concept called ‘Psychohistory’. It is, in essentials, a mathematical technique to predict the broad sweeps of civilization. Asimov himself was conveniently vague about the precise details of psychohistory, but stressed many times over, and in no uncertain terms, that the governing equations would break down when applied to an individual. His official argument was of course that an individual’s reaction to any stimulus could not be accurately predicted, but those of a mob could be. I wonder, though, if he had the thoughts expressed above in the back of his head when he created psychohistory. Interesting speculation, is it not?

My dear reader, as I promised at the very outset, the post seems to have no easily apparent order or chronology. I humbly beg you to pardon these inchoate musings, and I hope you will share your thoughts with me, in the process perhaps enlightening my lost, troubled soul.

A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE

My dear, perceptive reader, I come back to you with what I hope will affect you as profoundly as it has me. This stunning picture is of Messier 81(M81) or Bode’s Galaxy taken from the Hubble Space Telescope. It is a spiral galaxy, similar in many, many respects to our very own Milky Way.

My train of thought runs thus….. There are about one hundred billion galaxies in the observable universe. The space between each of them is more tenuous than any laboratory vacuum, and stretches for many times the size of the galaxies themselves. An average galaxy has about 200 billion stars. Now, consider our Milky Way galaxy. It is, as I have said, merely one out of 10^11 galaxies. Our sun, on the edge of one of the spiral arms of the galaxy, is merely one of 200 billion. Our sun would be less than at a pixel in a similar image of our galaxy. Our earth would be just about a pixel in a similar size image of the solar system. I know this may seem like mathematical masochism, but a long human life is barely 7.3*10^-11 of the present age of the universe.

The scale of this immense vastness is so gargantuan that I can barely conceive of it without a shudder. The cosmic forces which are responsible for the creation of all this magnificence is what most call God. I myself beg to differ, but this article isn’t about that at all. It is about how infinitely insignificant any and all of us are. Our lives are in the inexorable grip of these vast forces, forces which are beyond resistance, and yet, do we really matter?? Are these forces even cognizant about our existence?? There is a theory that the current vacuum prevalent in our universe is a high-energy one, an excited quantum state, so to speak. It could collapse at any instant, anywhere in the universe. A bubble of the real vacuum could be hurtling outward towards us at this very instant. We wouldn’t even realize it. We would be here one instant, gone the next. The true spine chiller comes next. We could be brushed out of existence the next instant, and the universe, in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t even notice our absence. This is awe, in the truest sense of the world, to confront something so much greater than ourselves, and to be humbled in comparison.

My dear, perceptive reader; with this I take your leave for now. I would, however, appreciate your thoughts on the matter.

THE PRICE OF SAFETY???

The last man on earth walks into a bar……..
What does he say???

My dear perceptive reader; great men have mused upon what epidemics did to human relationships; how fear and mistrust managed to disintegrate that which had held people together.

The year is 1348. The place-Southern France. The Black Death – the bubonic plague sweeps across the area. Over the next decade, it will claim full ¾th’s of Europe’s population. The infected are shunned, the healthy are feared!! Parents and children don’t eat at the same table anymore; the body politic begins to rot. “You don’t get sick if you stay to yourself” is the prevailing sentiment. Unfortunately, you don’t get well either!

The plague was defining in history. It took the world nearly a century to rise out of the carnage. And when Europe finally recovered, it did so in style!!

The Renaissance- art and culture at their best. The Golden Age of Europe. However, the later years of the Renaissance were black indeed. Immorality and corruption were rampant. The Church itself was not spared. Pope Alexander feared for his life and that of the Church itself. He sent a fiery Dominican monk, Savonarola, to Florence, the heart of the renaissance, a city which made Rome itself pale in comparison, and yet no bigger than 20 of today’s city blocks. What follows is one of the greatest tragedies in the world of art, the Bonfire of the Vanities, the full story of which is told elsewhere. The stage is now set for Christianity to strike back……. The Reformation.

All this because after the dark ages, humans no longer trusted one another. Most didn’t even trust their immediate family. ‘twas an age of betrayal and treachery!

Time heals all, say you?? Strange thing, time. It weighs most on those who have it the least. “The life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short”- Leviathan, by Hobbes. Time is the guy at the amusement park who paints shirts with an airbrush. He sprays out the color in a fine mist until its just lonely particles floating in the air, waiting to be plastered in place. And what comes of it all, the design on the shirt at the end of the day usually isn’t much to see. Whoever buys the shirt, the one great patron of the theme park, wakes up in the morning and wonders what he ever saw in it.

We’re the paint in that analogy. Time is what disperses us. Time is no Da Vinci, not even a Rembrandt, just a cheap Jackson Pollock.

I’m not sure what the point of the above is. Perhaps it is just a commentary on the mistrust I see all around us. It is a mistrust which leads to isolation, and much more. How many people do we see around us suffering from depression or analogous disorders?? Ponder this, my dear perceptive reader…….

The last man on earth walks into a bar……..
What does he say???
Drink, I’d like another bartender, please!!