Life and Death

I've watched historical period movies and I've marveled at the ease with which men throw themselves into battle all but certain they will die. It seems that in the world today, we rebel against death as if there is a tiny place in the backs of our minds that says that we don't actually have to die. We're still alive, so there's no reason to think that we can't defeat the reaper indefinitely. We always have before, right? I have those thoughts. Everyone must. In this age, it is what keeps despair at bay.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to John's father and he went on and on about scientific progress in controlling aging. It was evident to me that he sees the writing on the wall and doesn't want to go. He's still got it in his head that he might somehow cheat it. I keep thinking I might as well.

One of those historical period movies that I liked was Gladiator.. because the characters all seamed resigned to their fates, unlike we are today.

"Ultimately, we're all dead men. Sadly, we cannot choose how but, what we can decide is how we meet that end, in order that we are remembered, as men."

Remembrance is fleeting. The memories fade, as do those who knew us. It is truly dust to dust. The only purpose we seem to serve is to learn the way we are, live the way we are, and pass on the way we are to the next generation. Then - we simply vanish.

Life has a pattern to it. We live each day, trying to increase our happiness. We try and make more money, have more fun, or interact with more people. Whatever it is that motivates us, that's what happens on an ordinary day. But, each of those ordinary days are merely periods of tranquility between the intense tragedy that will occur for each of us if we care about anybody else. It is as crushing as it is inevitable.

Some tragedies are extreme, and they leave emotional scars.

It's happened three times for me so far, and I'm quite certain that it will happen many, many more times. That is the darkness we don't like to think about. The first time is a blur. The second time seems natural. The third time is discovering reality. Now, in that same place that holds my vision of immortality, there is now a vision of impending doom that is certain to come again. It's back there serving as a reminder that no matter what, there is more extreme tragedy just around the corner.

If I could freeze 1986 and live there indefinitely, I would.

The world today has become fundamentally unfair. It teaches us to expect happiness, and long life, and friends and family. It acts as if the tragedy is just something that happens to other people. It's not. It's there, waiting.. for the clock to tick to the next second where it gets it's chance to once again rob us of what we value most.

It seems to me the most successful people are the ones who think the least. I envy them sometimes.

I understand why people have religion. It's born out of that fundamental tragedy. When the pain is unimaginable, you can convince yourself of just about anything. When somebody else tells you everything you want to hear, it's nearly irresistible. It's exactly like freezing 1986, the last year I had before finding out we're all being stalked.

I've read all sorts of explanations of the way things are. Every idea is designed to take the edge off the tragedy in one way or another. Without it, it would be overwhelming. The problem I have is that I can only base my expectations on experience. What it is like after dying? I expect it's a lot like it was before being born.

I sometimes wonder if that's good or bad. There was no "me" to have a point of view about my existence before being born. There will likely be no "me" after I die. We have a very hard time letting go of our own thoughts. They are our best friends.

But what of the converse? What if our thoughts go on? Religion uses the term "eternity". What if you don't like your own thoughts that much? What if you had to listen to yourself moment by moment for all time? Wouldn't that be the ultimate madness? No matter what you do, you could not release yourself from yourself.

So, which is better - thinking for eternity or winking out of existence? Not knowing the answer is better than knowing. Once you know, there is no discovery, there is not even an illusion of free will. You become a prisoner.

I haven't figured all that shit out yet. It will probably plague me my entire life. The only thing I know for sure is that there is another tragedy coming, right around the corner. That corner could be 20 years, or 5 minutes. It could be the next vibration that I feel in my pocket as my phone starts ringing. And, I find it odd that we're taught it doesn't exist.

I've been thinking about these things for a while, since my nephew died in August. I'm generally back to the way I was, but I'm fundamentally different in a subtle way. I've lost that innocence of ideals, and realize that we're all just biding our time. I can't kid myself anymore.

I'm sure I'll have a lot more to write about this at some point, and I'll probably try and make sense out of what has happened recently, but for now it's best to try and recapture some of the illusion. I'm going to Hawaii in a few days, and I'm sure it will drown out the voices of doom.

Anyway... I've been thinking about writing something profound on the meaning of life for a while. I've thought and thought, and had some pretty entertaining ideas.. but when I actually stopped to write it, the good ideas were nowhere to be found. This post is all I can seem to come up with now, and maybe that's a good sign in that it's easier to be profound when we're raw. I don't like being in that state one bit.

But, what really caused me to write this today is because of what I wrote yesterday. In my post on tv, I mentioned the finale of Six Feet Under. I recommended everyone get that last DVD and watch it. I went to Sullivan’s blog to see what literary horror he has on tap today, and saw;



That is the final scene from the final episode of Six Feet Under. How strange it is that I was just talking about that yesterday, and now Sully is featuring it. It's brilliance is that it captures what I've been thinking about for so long. Claire gets in her car and leaves by herself for New York. I got in my car and left by myself for Texas.

And people die..

Marcus Aurelius is dead, Maximus. We mortals are but shadows and dust. Shadows and dust, Maximus!