What is human life doing? What is it all about ultimately?
Examine your day-to-day life: you awake, you may need to urinate or excrete, you’ll probably eat something, you’ll head off somewhere to sell your time to someone in order to acquire the means to keep...to keep what exactly? To keep getting up, to keep excreting, urinating, eating, drinking and so on and on. During the day your head will be filled with countless thoughts, ideas, vague hopes, different emotions of varying intensity, propositions, images, spectacles and so on. You will have very little control of that thought content. You’ll fantasise about what you may do in the evening. You may go online, you may go for a drink, you may chat with a pal, you may read, you may watch tv, you may masturbate, you may do nothing. You are a prisoner of time and space, of circumstance, of gender, of history, of pigmentation, of a DNA lottery where there is no winning ticket. And all the while the clock is ticking, you are getting older, the freshness is fading, you are heading toward the end, the end of what? The end of something you did not elect to come into, something you had no choice but to participate in, all like a dream, a phantasma, an insane slide show of images that make no sense. That will have been your life. And then darkness forever. As if you had never been.
And how do people respond? Essentially by self-delusion and distraction. Most elect not to think about life too closely, and to be frank who could blame them? They work, they revolve in their narrow orbit of job, friends, family and newspaper and that’s it. Life is too much to think about.
There are those who, generally when they hit their thirties, run out of gas. They’ve been to college, had their fun, worked a bit, travelled, got married and now there’s nothing left to do but have the inevitable kiddies in the hope of rejuvenating that flagging relationship where there’s nothing more to talk about. So they go ahead and fulfil the expectations of their parents and society and a new cycle of their lives where “it’s all about the kids” kicks in. This gives them a vicarious reason for living and allows them to justify life to themselves: “it’s not about me anymore”.
Then there are those who think more than is strictly necessary for the mindless biological functioning that life in its essence consists of. They may realise there’s something up, that life isn’t as it was advertised by parents, teachers and the like. Looking around the world and the madness and randomness of it, they may realise they’ve been sold a pup. Some will respond by turning to religion, and again who could blame them? Life is so horrific, unfair and unjust you can’t really hold it against people for desperately hoping there’s some form of justice and explanation on the other side of consciousness.
And then we get those who believe that by twiddling the knobs and redesigning the political alignment we’ll somehow even things out or maybe achieve Paradise on Earth. These people go by many names, Marxist, Communist, Anarchist, Libertarian and so on. Again, you can hardly blame them, but they’re also ignoring the reality of human history and human nature.
Then we have the people who think, fuck it, I want to enjoy myself, pump my ego, be worshipped, have my voice heard so and they become politicians, businessmen, academics, artists and so on. They take life as an unashamed ego-trip where wealth accumulation, ego expression and social status amongst their fellow-baboons is the ultimate value.
And then we have the majority who essentially live in fear. Fear of loneliness, fear of poverty, fear of homelessness, fear of tyranny and so on. You see, life has been very generous indeed in providing many, many things to fear. And so these people keep their heads down, serve the powers that be and pass on.
And then you have people like me, and perhaps like you, seeing as how you happen to be reading this blog, who really are just sick to the back fucking teeth of this pitiful parade of insanity, lunacy, madness, delusion and despair. People who have to drag themselves out of bed in the morning, tired of having to feign enthusiasm, of having to formulate plans and projects to drag their asses through life, all so we can bow out one fine day, hopefully not in excruciating agony and torment.
Welcome to the Pleasure Dome.