Saturday, 14 September 2013

Shepherds of Emptiness Volume Two

A good action is a deed that is restoring the hidden structure of the universe: which is fundamentally meaningless. Planets, rocks, cyclones they all are mute of meanings. They are not in the game of significance. In fact the Red Giant on Jupiter doesn’t give a dime of what will happen. Alpha Centauri is absolutely cool about the future. And so on. Instead amoebas, jelly-fish, cats, gibbons and you, we are all freaking out about what is coming from the future. So we started to develop tricks. You think you are a good player just because you have a massive nervous system. Try to get laid without arms, legs, eyes, even without lungs, bowels, completely deprived also of mitochondria, chromosomes and the rest, for what it matters. You must be quite good to do it under those circumstances.

Yet viruses are in the game as well and amoebas are pretty good. You know how I know that? They are still around. And they choose to stay in that line of business. You like to play the game with big consciousness, they choose to stay small, stay fit, get laid a lot. “Established 3.9 billion ago”, not bad for a commercial premises. It gives an impression of reliability.

So our big consciousness is just trying to make a living in the same, crowded game. And we are doing OK I suppose. Our big brains required also to express the game. Yep. We started to tell the story of the game, to say explicitly what the rest of crew was simply doing. Yes my friend, “that” is your mind. Our mind is simply projecting the deployment of life. Now we can say two or three things. Well, three. The first is that THIS is not YOUR mind. Now, try to stay with me for another second. I’m not bullshitting about universal soul or the like. I’m just saying that the self-consciousness you are embodying, it not your property, is not speaking of your biography. Not only and for the most.
Gangs of protein chains, worms which made the trick of walking on their back ( thus capsizing their dorso-ventral axis: we are actually descendants of those jesters…), small rodents elusive of dinosaurs, Australopiteci clever enough to stand up after squatting all day, all that lineage is embodied in your mind. Just to let you know.

So when you are using this powerful projector, you have two ways. One is to consider it the repetition of the same.  You are just the newest born of a tribe and soon you’ll be overtake by another newer born, you’ll die as everybody before. Don’t cry. It’s happening what always happens, what could not but happen. You are the micro-figment of the large repetition. Innumerable universes flourished before you, they crushed and many others bloomed afterwards. Our small universe will disappear as the others did and on its void another will take place with different but equal creatures, with alien, distant but equal consciousness that will narrate and be aware of the repetition as you are. You will join the eternity of presence, because you have always had. Every single detail of your awareness is preserved.
The mere contingency is contingent ( If you think that is an informationless tautology, I should add that the this mere contingency is your individual selfish biography, namely everything you will call “I”. So be careful, sometimes tautologies can be really cruel). This is the glory of the mind. In the imperishable persistency of consciousness, there are no meanings, because every reference is reminding the same. OK. So? So properly speaking any difference is recomposed in the unity. There is no good, no bad, no “I”, no them. Fullness. This is the place in the sun of the universe, enlightenment, Jesus with sunglasses. Very nice, but if you REALLY understood this, well, congratulations. I’m just surprised that you are still reading my post. Oh right. You are eternal and everything, every instant is already happening as it always did, so basically you are me. Yet, I’m still not feeling as you, so I must be on the other side. Which is where the rest of humanity is. Where all the small, insignificant details of contingency are. Where the fading of existence dwells. In a word, where the shit is.

The entire sentient universe is a train going full-steam towards annihilation. Some of us, like amoebas, lizards, bankers are fucking everything that moves and eating what is not them. You can call it a strategy. It’s all right, especially if you are laying eggs. A bit more tensed if you are in the financial sector: sooner or later your mammalian brain should encounter “small” discrepancies with this behaviour. Anyway. From the encultured primates above, the journey to the end of existence is source of explicit anxiety. And a dilemma in philosophy of language: where are all the meaning hung up to? If everything is destined to nothing: what is the sense of every single meaning, apart from the practical, instrumental situations of semantically getting laid? That’s difficult and try to follow me carefully, because even I didn’t quite grasp it perfectly myself…


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