(no subject)
It's unreal how nothing in the universe feels "necessary."
What do I mean? I don't see why the trees have to be green. Why do we find the green to be so enjoyable, so vivifying? It's because evolution made us this way. But why is the tree leaf green? You could say it's a result of photosynthesis. But why does green have to be the result of energy manufactured from sunlight? Is it the electromagnetic spectrum? Sure, but why? Why can't trees have orange leaves and purple trunks? Why can't photosynthesis make them that way? It sounds fucking hideous, sure, but wouldn't evolution, in that parallel universe, make us love those trees and make us execrate the idea of green leaves? Why couldn't the electromagnetic spectrum have been refitted to accomodate for orange and purple trees?
The world seems illusory. After some billions of years, there will be no stars, and the stardust will evaporate in a few trillion years. Then probably the whole universe will re-emerge, in way or shape or form, with entirely new, arbitrarily decided laws of physics, if the process even can even be seen as a decision.
At the end of the day, William of Ockham was right. There really is no necessary order to the universe. The universe does have order, along with a delightful sprinkling of chaos, but an appreciable order. Rocks fall after they're thrown. But it's not necessary. We could have been atoned by throwing stones at an ass called Christ, and by pissing on his memory. Forget ransom, forget substitution. Those play by the rules that the Big Guy decided on. And if it wasn't God who decided the rules, but rather an Immortal Nature he is obeisant too, then why is that aligned the way it is?
But at the end of the day, it's ultimately a hopeless task to think about such things. It's not because they aren't fascinating, aren't fecund, aren't abstract. It's just that the universe is a water drop that split from a waterfall, with all the contents within the drop wondering where they are, from where they arose, and where they are headed. The contents can't resolve anything, because of the nature of their situation.
It is distressing, though, that we can't follow Plato's advice: start from the beginning, and make your philosophy from there. What founded us is the grand mystery, and it makes all philosophy and science and theology a bunk game. It's distressing that the only real truths we'll only get are provisional. Why is the leaf green? Photosynthesis, spectral waves, etc., only are detours from what we're really asking. We want to know why the sky must be blue. And all we get is mystery.
But the fun thing about acquiring knowledge isn't that you now can say you know something. It's because you partook in a mystery that has only been partially resolved. That you've scratched the surface just makes it that much more mysterious. And for whatever reason, mystery and curiosity and wonder are the loveliest emotions there are.
So at the end of the day, you can't know why a leaf is green by necessity's decree, but the joy of feeling mystery is better. You could say that I've been wondering what I'm gonna do in the future, and I've been trying to set the proper understanding for myself from the ground up, but such is an impossible task for mortals. But... I like feeling curiosity in my spine.
What do I mean? I don't see why the trees have to be green. Why do we find the green to be so enjoyable, so vivifying? It's because evolution made us this way. But why is the tree leaf green? You could say it's a result of photosynthesis. But why does green have to be the result of energy manufactured from sunlight? Is it the electromagnetic spectrum? Sure, but why? Why can't trees have orange leaves and purple trunks? Why can't photosynthesis make them that way? It sounds fucking hideous, sure, but wouldn't evolution, in that parallel universe, make us love those trees and make us execrate the idea of green leaves? Why couldn't the electromagnetic spectrum have been refitted to accomodate for orange and purple trees?
The world seems illusory. After some billions of years, there will be no stars, and the stardust will evaporate in a few trillion years. Then probably the whole universe will re-emerge, in way or shape or form, with entirely new, arbitrarily decided laws of physics, if the process even can even be seen as a decision.
At the end of the day, William of Ockham was right. There really is no necessary order to the universe. The universe does have order, along with a delightful sprinkling of chaos, but an appreciable order. Rocks fall after they're thrown. But it's not necessary. We could have been atoned by throwing stones at an ass called Christ, and by pissing on his memory. Forget ransom, forget substitution. Those play by the rules that the Big Guy decided on. And if it wasn't God who decided the rules, but rather an Immortal Nature he is obeisant too, then why is that aligned the way it is?
But at the end of the day, it's ultimately a hopeless task to think about such things. It's not because they aren't fascinating, aren't fecund, aren't abstract. It's just that the universe is a water drop that split from a waterfall, with all the contents within the drop wondering where they are, from where they arose, and where they are headed. The contents can't resolve anything, because of the nature of their situation.
It is distressing, though, that we can't follow Plato's advice: start from the beginning, and make your philosophy from there. What founded us is the grand mystery, and it makes all philosophy and science and theology a bunk game. It's distressing that the only real truths we'll only get are provisional. Why is the leaf green? Photosynthesis, spectral waves, etc., only are detours from what we're really asking. We want to know why the sky must be blue. And all we get is mystery.
But the fun thing about acquiring knowledge isn't that you now can say you know something. It's because you partook in a mystery that has only been partially resolved. That you've scratched the surface just makes it that much more mysterious. And for whatever reason, mystery and curiosity and wonder are the loveliest emotions there are.
So at the end of the day, you can't know why a leaf is green by necessity's decree, but the joy of feeling mystery is better. You could say that I've been wondering what I'm gonna do in the future, and I've been trying to set the proper understanding for myself from the ground up, but such is an impossible task for mortals. But... I like feeling curiosity in my spine.