On Reality and the Understanding of Absolutely Everything

Stranger things have happened...

I don't seem able to stop thinking about meaning. In fact, it seems I just cannot stop thinking about the 'hows' and the 'whys' of this world. The questions keep dancing in my head, and if they ever grow subdued, it is only to come back to haunt me even more.

Because I crave understanding of all things, my imaginative side came up with all sorts of theories and stories which I haven't yet been able (or had the discipline...) to put into words.

I just cannot not think about why things are as they are, and how or what made them be as they are, and why we are 'we' or 'I'... The notion of reality and what truly constitutes that notion has taunted me from the moment I was born, I think. I was first fascinated, and as with all things that are new to me, I remain fascinated for as long as it takes for my mind to know a subject well.

The trouble with human affairs is that they are forever tainted by subjectivity, and so it is that to try and understand them one has to be able to differentiate between the micro and macro level. That's right, I'm now using economic terms. Why? Because they save me endless words and winding sentences.

The micro level is the individual one - the detail. If one is to observe the micro level, they would come to realise that this whole world is made up of smaller and smaller worlds that get smaller and smaller to eventually zero in on specific base detail. It leads nowhere, unless one likes to collect tiny detail. Of course, taking into account the laws of reality, a powerful equation could actually determine an idea of the number of detail that exist at a micro level - probably in the region of the millions. Why? Because the micro detail (say, in human beings alone) is made of all the possible genetic combinations that can be produced, along with all the possible environmental factors that can interact with the predispositions or innate traits, leading us to the fact that only an equation could get us close to an estimate (proving at the same time that reality is limited and that only a finite number of things can exist or happen and none other beyond that number). And in the end, an equation would finally prove that there is only so much that can exist on this very Earth, and that there is only so much that can happen, too. That there is a limit, and that reality is limited, and that in fact one could derive the conclusion that it is quite possible to predict reality/the future in terms of pure mathematics.

I don't care if it makes no sense... these thoughts never leave me.

The macro level comes in handy, I have to say. It is the equivalent of taking a bird's eye view of all the detail that exists (even if we cannot possibly know the number of detail that exists outside an equation at best). It is, quite simply, what sociology and other human sciences are all about. They take into account trends and generalised phenomena, turn them into statistics and the likes and... Ta-Da! We are suddenly able to draw a rough map of the way things/people function.

The macro level also comes in handy because it allows for the mind to detach itself from a plethora of conflicting micro detail that would otherwise make it impossible to ever come close to a conclusion or clear idea on anything at all. It therefore allows the mind to take a bird's eye view of the bigger picture, hopefully allowing for a better perspective away from limited perception - the latter being the plague of micro detail.

tbc...

On Society and the Illusion of Meaning

We, humans, never run out of meanings. We are champions at making up meanings and purposes.

There is no meaning to anything unless we ourselves attach it to something, and that’s exactly why we spend our lives drifting according to nature, only we make our surroundings more interesting to pass the time till the grave. We get born without having a say on the matter, people just spawn us one after the other like Kinder surprise eggs. That is because we are mammals. There is nothing great or special, or remotely meaningful attached to it: it’s the only way to ensure survival of a species. Monkeys do it, rabbits do it, ants and even cockroaches do it. We, however, feel the need to attach greater meaning to it all. That meaning then varies from one individual to the next.

Then there is the fact that the word ’nature’ is very misleading. Indeed, the way that term evolved it tends to hint at a personified idea of it, when really nature is just the biologically random chain of events that leads from A to B - from the first tiny microbe that managed to survive in a more life-friendly environment (A) to the way species are now (B). There is no such thing as ’life’ or ’nature’… These words are just abstract notions that encourage the belief in supernatural ideas.

Meaning is an illusion, and that is why materialism was always the easiest vice to get a hold of us. We get hooked on materiality so easily that, if anything, it is a blatant sign that the lack of any meaning whatsoever makes most of us hang onto the first concrete or shiny thing there is.

I guess we had to gather at some point and start living in societies, because that is after all the best setting for mass delusion. By living all together, we can pretend that there is more to life than what reality dictates, and we can each make up our own little purposes. By living in society, we all suddenly get to play a role, and by getting a part in the play of Life, we suddenly feel more important - we feel as though what we do matters in some way. We can more readily focus on our own little meanings on things, and society provides us with the framework within which to play out our role.

In that sense, society seems nothing more than a bubble we almost naturally came to conceive in order to create a strong enough illusion of sense and purpose for the majority living within it.

Entertainment and social activities were like a basis of that process, because they allow us to sink deeper in the enjoyment of moments without having to face the bigger picture showing us that it’s all an illusion in the end. Nothing holds any meaning intrinsically.

Society is like a 24/7 theatre play, really. Everyone gets to play a part - from the homeless guy begging outside the train station to the rich snob sitting on his toilet carved out of gold. Within the play are various settings that developed over time. After all, the more the play repeats itself, the more elaborate it is supposed to become, right? (Yes, it all repeats itself over and over again, with only a change of landscapes from time to time).

Some settings available to human actors in the big play of Life include such things as the option to climb the social ladder, which was provided the moment we all gathered to form a society, discover whatever can be discovered, focus on amassing as many things as one can, pretend that we are even more special by hating death and trying to save the ‘poor and vulnerable’… etc, etc.

Another great feature of the play is that as we are many, we suddenly have the opportunity to feel more important or even special or unique. We can strive for recognition, which is always one that seems to give people that shot of further delusions into thinking they are really more special than others. We can strive for success, which will spawn recognition anyway. Or we can just strive for money, luxuries, which will lead to easy ways, comfort and a better footing to enjoy existence as it unfolds regardless of anything.

With comfort and easy ways, we may however experience a tricky period of sudden depression brought about by too much free time pondering on meaning. But fear not, the play would not be complete without yet another setting to save the fools lacking fake meaning because they already have it too easy in life. With riches and success already under the belt, one can get immersed in the hobby of philanthropy, or new age abracadabra, or simply travel the world and go “Wow” every five minutes. By the time such options are exhausted, it’s usually time to die anyway.

Haven’t I just summed up life as a whole?… There is no meaning, there is no purpose, except the ones we fancy making up along the way. Shame we could never all agree on a higher one that would actually have made living as a human being worthwhile. Instead, it’s just a circus.