Archives for posts with tag: existential ennui

Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to genuinely and perfectly relive moments of the past. To experience it again through all my senses, rather than merely my mind’s eye. The smells, the sights, the tastes in memory that would normally just be broken fragments, whispers of yesterday, would become palpable once more. I imagine not just remembering the look in her eyes, but truly seeing them gaze back into mine; once again knowing me, disarming me. To replicate the bliss and ecstasy of love, the tingle of held hands. Would I ever leave this palace of the past? This sepulcher of my former moments? Would I purposefully scratch the record, allowing the phonograph to loop, over and over, the happiness I once lived? Better than any drug, would its joys sap me of any connection to the present? To the future?

Memory, however, is not perfect. It fades in time; drifting, as we all do, towards oblivion. Occasionally, I remember. A familiar smell; an old photograph. All of a sudden she is here again, but through a veil. The emotions return distorted. The memory is insincere. An imperfect reflection of the original. And inevitably, it too drifts away. The smell dissipates; I put away the photograph. These events become memories themselves. Another fold overlapping, deepening the veil. The distance from the past widens further. Are these traps? Nettles and barbs that cling to me, dragging me down into an impossible crevasse? There is no bottom to hit; I try harder and harder to grasp at a wisp of smoke, and it smiles beautifully as it evaporates in front of me.

Are these traps? Or are they promises? Promises of memories yet to come. Reminders that new hands can be held; new eyes can disarm me. Does the imperfection of memories drive me to discover more? To seek out new joys, new happiness. To no longer desperately clutch at the fleeting images of the past, but to strive out boldly into the future; unsure of the quality of memories to be created, but confident in my ability to try. I have done this before. I can do it again. I will see again. I will smell again. I will feel again. She is a memory, but she will not be the only one. There will be new moments, and I will remember these new moments, and all the moments after.

One problem people seem to have with the lack of belief in God is that it renders what we do meaningless. What purpose can our actions possibly have if they’re not part of something bigger than us? Bigger than reality? Part of a cosmic plan?

Sure there’s the whole idea that, “oooh, well it just means that what we have *now* is more important…” hedonistic approach that claims that only the present has value, (which, however valid, I will be ignoring for the purpose of this post), but I’m talking grand scheme of things, millions of years from now grand, when all traces of our actions are gone. The sun has burnt out.  Eternity.

Just work with me here, and let’s think under the concept that if there is no God, what we do is null.

Let’s give our actions some weight, then. Add God. Now we’ve got an omnipotent Judge that gets to decide what our actions are worth. Unfortunately for us, God likes to send those of us He doesn’t like down into the fiery depths of hell. It’s kind of a bummer. For those claiming that an empty universe is unjust, I’d argue that being infinitely punished for sins committed in a finite world far more unjust. Who is to say that if some horse thief from the Wild West lived a thousand more years, he might have cured all the STDs, finally allowing the world as much unprotected sex as it desired. A virtue well worth entry into heaven. But unfortunately our horse thief is mortal, and he died terribly of syphilis well before they started inventing cures for things that didn’t involve leeches. Given an eternity, who is to say what kind of people we would be? But we only have a short time, and punishing us over the course of eternity for *any*thing committed in that short amount of time is unbelievably cruel.

The other option is that everyone gets the happy ending. Everyone gets into heaven, everyone achieves nirvana, everyone gets that sweet slice of eternal bliss, no matter what. That final phrase there is what I’m driving at. The “no matter what” stipulation of a heaven entry suggests that again, what we do is meaningless. If we accept that inevitable oblivion makes what we do invalid, then we have to accept that inevitable salvation leads to the same conclusion. If the ending is always the same, no matter the path chosen, then it doesn’t matter which path we choose.

The only option I can think of where our choices have eternal weight is the concept of reincarnation without the option of nirvana. We would just be stuck in samsara (the life cycle) forever, with no hope of escape. Our actions would dictate our upcoming lives, forever and ever.  No end.

So everyone is either going to have to find some way to accept that our actions are inherently meaningless, or convert to a confused version of Buddhism.

11 Year Old Girl Commits Suicide After Discovering Non-Existence of Santa Claus
http://www.kymonews.com/news/national/11-year-old-girl-commits-suicide-santa-claus/article5633560/

Janet Paisley, 11, committed suicide yesterday afternoon after having discovered that the jolly old elf Santa Claus had been entirely fictional. In an interview with her mother, we learned that Janet began having doubts about Santa Claus a few years earlier, and would purposely misbehave around her family to see if she would in fact receive coal for her transgressions. “We knew she had been a hellion, fighting with her sister and cousins, but what parent could bring themselves to ruin a kid’s Christmas? We still bought her the gifts, and she seemed happy enough to receive them. How could we know?” said mother Anne Paisley.

Janet then began an existential spiral into nihilistic despair. Her journal revealed that she had begun to question the legitimacy of morality. One passage reads, “If I’m good I get presents, and if I’m bad I get presents. My parents buy them for me. There’s no list of the naughty, no list of the nice. My actions have no consequence. If I did actually get coal, it wouldn’t be because some transcendent judge with absolute knowledge of nice and naughty deemed me unworthy of gifts, but merely because my parents were upset that I broke Grandma’s vase and lied about it.”

This surprisingly articulate 11 year old, fuelled by her despair at the lie she had been living, began misbehaving in school, and, despite measures by the school’s staff, seemed impervious to traditional methods of discipline. “We would put Janet in detention for hours upon hours after school, and she would continue to misbehave. I even asked her if it bothered her to be all alone, and she told me that she’s always alone. In her mind, there is only her consciousness, and that doesn’t change whether there are people in the room or not,” said Arthur Schumacher, the school’s Vice Principal.

Right before Janet’s unfortunate end, she had been sitting quietly on a swing in the playground. Janet then got up, and calmly walked over to her classmate Ahmed Nasab, 11, and stabbed him in the side once with a pencil, then stabbed him four more times in quick succession. Ahmed was rushed to the hospital, and is currently in stable condition. When asked why she did it, Janet replied, “Just to see.”

Then yesterday, just days after the incident on the playground, Janet was found by her mother in their bathtub with her wrists slit. Beside her was a note that read, “I no longer desire presents. Coal doesn’t bother me. All I want for Christmas is the truth, and that is the one thing that does not exist. There is no Santa Claus. There is only nothingness.”

Memorial services will be held in St. James Church, Thursday November 29th, at 3:00pm.