The expression “you are nothing” could be understood as a harsh condemnation of all for which you believe about yourself, yet according to the scientists in our midst, our universe is comprised of 99% dark matter - a substance which they are at a loss to describe. Having suckled at your mother’s tit such information may be more than unwelcome, but if your have been bombed day and night for the better part of your life, this idea may not seem quite so foreign. The conceit that our world, our homes or even our ideas are at the center of the universe is easily forgiven when contrasted with the enormous distance between each of us or between the object of our desires and our satisfaction. I have sought refuge from the isolation of my own skin by attempting to understand what another might feel; my hope of course is to find something in common. However, regardless of how much i have found in common with others, i have yet to meet someone who is content with being nothing. This is not to say my ambition in life is to become nothing, but rather to understand more fully the implications of being what i am - nothing. Many reading that statement might be motivated correct such a heretical self opinion, but i would have to wonder why. I can appreciate the despair of emptiness but am more curious what it must be like to feel kinship with dark matter. Clearly the leaders of the planet have good reason to keep the mass of humanity apart, but that hasn’t stopped many to seek common cause if only for our mutual survival, but what does that mean - survival? What makes capitalism so attractive to the lazy amongst is its plug and play aspect, find what others hunger for and corner the market - you’re set for life. The razor’s edge which the capitalists walk, however means they must somehow convince you they care about what you hunger for, that or convince they know better than you what you are hungry for - which is currently the sorry state of our economy.
A pretty amazing feat for a planet comprised of 96% dark matter, but when you think about it 96% of what is bought can hardly be explained - sort of like we are buying nothing for everything. Maybe the capitalists are not as dumb as they appear from a distance. They damn sure have a lot of nothing, and clearly want more. What i’m not so sure about is spending the better part of my life struggling to acquire something that i don’t understand. I like the idea of being happy, and choose to do so at every turn. Writing for example - the process can be quite disconcerting, but to go back and read something you felt deeply enough about to take the time and formulate what you hope is a cogent discussion which others might understand - that can be quite nice, most especially if it makes sense when reading through the lens of time. Lao Tzu says to be content with what you have and the whole world belongs to you. That is an enormous prospect, certainly much greater if you subscribe to the expanding universe model of our world as opposed to the various beliefs based on end-of-life concepts mostly favoring the preservation of self. I distrust any state of mind feverishly clung to, but rarely enjoyed, put differently “insanity doesn’t run in my family, it sort saunters.” So what is it about nothingness that feels at once compelling as though swimming in it, but simultaneously repugnant enough to provoke Blaise Pascal’s remark “all of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone. Is there such a thing as boredom, part of the charm of human indoctrination is having convinced the multitudes that quietude is really the sin of sloth. I dam sure have a hard time doing nothing, but i have never claimed any recovery from my very special indoctrination. I’m not sure i’d even want, what would i do without all my petty grievances and petulant slights to nurture like some metaphysical elixir delivering me from - something better.
What’s to say that this instant in time isn’t the apex of the expansion for our universe and each passing second of our existence is only leverage keeping the whole scheme of things from collapsing back into one of the multitude of black holes, with each subsequent black hole collapsing into its predominate neighbor until there is nothing left to happen but another big bang. Like i said, insanity doesn’t run in my family, it just sort of saunters. Is our purpose such an exalted state fraught with meaning and design that we must evaluate ours against that of others, like little boys comparing their penises with others when they think no one is looking, or women tearing each other apart believing success will yield the best man DNA or whatever other comparisons we make that generate insatiable hungers rendering us vulnerable to influence. What is influence, besides social gravity, does this answer how we have become immeshed in the lives of leaders whose only pedigree is defined by the numbers of otherwise thinking human beings clinging to that orbit? What i don’t understand is the dissonance of isolation, as though it is a physical threat to others to be alone. I like people; they are fascinating and amusing. But like hard liquor too much of a good thing can be stupefying. The difficult part of human relations for me is to know what is helpful, this could be a blindspot from my own confusion or an inherent flaw in our human capacity to identify and express clearly what we need - i don’t know. Bob Dylan has sung “ya’ try and help someone sometimes and end up making things a thousand times worse” - and damn if that ain’t true - ask anyone of my last three wives. Is there a secret to knowing what is helpful, or is it like tying shoelaces, you can only succeed after x number of tries? I was lucky, i had Heidi there to teach me, so i really wasn’t looking at my shoelaces, but she was smart too, not just good looking; so when she caught on i was back on my own - see what happens when you try and take advantage of a good thing.
Being nothing is not such a bad thing, certainly not bad enough to convince a planet to destroy itself if you do not possess that quality. One of my greatest anxieties today is centered around a storage unit. The only items of any real concern are statues i scraped out of stone believing that act would create something when i still believed there was a there there, but Gertrude was right - “there is no there.” Is my life’s work nothing? This is an existential cul-de-sac i’d have rather not walked down, but while we’re here - what of it. I have a brother who once asked me once “Why stone carvings, do you want to be immortal?” A question like that is why i never really feel alone. In his absence i have gravitated to others who have also posed questions that are impossible to answer. I admire that capacity to pose good questions - enough so to emulate. However, if i have been successful, please don’t mention it - t’was nothing . . . For my money, our world is far too full of answers; questions yield a much better Return On Investment (ROI) than any of the marketplace miracles with which the wizards of wall street are ransacking the planet - besides questions are more fun, and we all like to have fun. Take for example what if next time you were about to reply to some hateful post using all the bile you have been hoarding because who the fuck wants to be a hater - and instead of mimicking the rancid invective so much the rage today, you were to just ask why? Children know the wisdom of this question, that is until it is beat out of them by the fear of not knowing the answer, but until that happens can there possibly be any answer more correct than a question¿ Does if follow that to know nothing is a worthy ambition? Ask me when i have figured out how to get there, if there is any there there.
What would our world look like if instead of striving to become somebody, we became nothing - i read today that our environment will be uninhabitable by 2100. That is a grievous thought if only for the galling stupidity that is bringing that about, yet it may present perfect conditions for us to consider what it might be like to be nothing. There was also available on the “information super cul-de-sac” an article on Perceptronium, a supposed new element that is comprised of our consciousness. Is that even possible¿ If that were true would questions be the dark matter within that lattice? just askin’. How much further along might we have gotten had we simply accepted our deaths as the indigenous people do - a deeply moving experience that is part of the great cycle, rather than our tedious conceit that with the right combination of certainty and persuasion we can all be around just like we are now forever - euwwh. “if you are the dealer, i’m out of the game” - Leonard Cohen. The charm of being nothing is one never has far to go to get home, sort of like Dorothy clicking her heels “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home. I laugh, but only because i’m not entirely prepared to live as the real heroes of our epoch do - homeless. It causes me consternation to not have a door to lock on all the somebody’s in our world who seem fascinated by the possibility of establishing that certainty with anyone within earshot everywhere they go. Nor am i prepared to extinguish my own infernal flame within my soul that prompted me to fantasize in stone about an immortality which all but a blood relative have been too timid to ask me about - but i’m getting closer. Here’s an irony that i cannot or will not parse aside from this exercise in exorcism of personal demons, i am compelled to help people believe themselves well in every meaning of the word, it pains me to know of anyone who believes themselves less than the most exalted and conceited amongst us - our leaders. Am i externalizing an inner conflict or reading correctly that being nothing is a little like being a working class hero - something to be? i don’t know the answer, and don’t care . . .
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and everything - the sonnet
". . . not a drop in the ocean; the ocean
in a drop” - Rumi - paraphrased for this
sonnet - i do not have to, but i can -
remembering the universe can’t miss.
so why all the turmoil about the end
when near as we know there’s no stop, no start.
sort of like chicken and the egg, we tend
to believe all we see - which ain’t too smart.
unable to perceive from much distance
we pretty much guess at what’s past our nose.
were you deaf, would you be able to dance¿
good then - though it made you not, you’re a rose.
you are that flower, that mountain - the sea
whether you flourish or perish - just be
jts 12/04/2017
http://josephtstevns.blogspot.com
http://stoanartst.blogspot.com
reprinted with permission - all rights reserved
∞
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