Our problem is not 'death' per se, but rather our inability to die forever. Might there be no escape from the sordid constructs of our minds? That is the question that gnaws at the souls of men.
And the Wyz replied:
|Our problem is not 'death' per se, but rather our inability to die forever. Might there be no escape from the sordid constructs of our minds? That is the question that gnaws at the souls of men.|
I worry about this often.
So far, I don't think I want the endless death, unless the much vaunted eternal life that we are told we enjoy comes with condescending beings who address me as "Beloved," or "Dear One."
In that case, the endless death becomes attractive.
Another problem with eternal life are the vague murmurings I hear about becoming One with the Universe, or God/dess, or the Prime Creator.
This smacks of assimilation, which means that God is Borg.
Although I like tattoo's, and I eat habenero peppers, I am currently unwilling to get that mechanical eye stuck into my head along with the half-a-brain cybergenetic micro's that go along with it.
If I wanted half a brain, I'd reincarnate as a woman, notably one who has mistaken her portfolio for her identity.
Not that all women operate on half-a-brain, on the contrary; only the women with whom I form a relationship seem to operate with that limited capacity.
While I hope for an integrated relationship, I have, in the past, found myself in co- and counter-dependent relationships, with myself as the puppy-eyed slavish co-dependent, and the female as a demanding, soul-sucking psychic vampire.
I have noted that the only constant in my dysfunctional relationships seems to be myself, and am taking steps to rectify this matter.
I desire an Inter-dependent relationship. Much like the ubiquitous bigfoot/yeti/sasquatch sightings, I have heard tales and seen blurry photographs of those who have inter-dependent relationships. Many of these photographs are sepia or black-and-white and can be found on pianos and walls in the homes of senior citizens, or crumpled in the drawers of nursing homes.
While technology aims for the stars, the nuclear and extended family has spiraled into the shitter. I'd like to find a balance between ambition and technology without losing the familial bond that keeps us sane.
Or I could just get another puppy.
And replied Hibits:
|...without losing the familial bond that keeps us sane.|
Or at least keeps us occupied. Perhaps that's what sanity consists of- being busy. Puppies are good but they shit in the yard. I've been working on the invention of a shitless dog (SD) for almost 40 years now with meager success- until a recent break-through. Currently my research revolves about the concept of a dog as the ultimate recycling device (URD). URD research has led me inevitably into the study of possible beneficial uses of dogshit (BUD). My research team is now investigating the weaponization potential of BUD. We have concluded that the utilization of the dogshit bomb (DSB) would have resulted in far fewer casualties and faster capitulation had it been used in the attack on Iraq instead of our out-dated reliance on the use of conventional explosives. Talk about shock and awe! So, yes- puppies are good.
As usual, I await Dr. Stupid's analysis before drawing any final conclusions.
How can a nation be great if its bread tastes like Kleenex? Julia Child