 @manplancanal:matrix.thisisjoes.site | We are not tapping our potential. I haven't led the most exciting life, but I have many years' experience as a human being, and almost as many as a human being online. In both these arenas we are failing. Normally I would set aside a breezy, sleazy shorthand like "we," especially when casting a moral indictment. But I truly do mean that each individual on this Earth, and whatever morass they can be said to create altogether, are to some degree laying aside the possibility of something beyond our current ken, not an individual alteration but a procedural revolution, an augmentation of principle, an improvement not of the edifice but its underlying foundation. Despite the advancements of modernity, our ability to traverse the entire planet in a day, to penetrate the farthest reaches of our physical reality, we have laid our metaphysical reality to decay, or worse, to an accelerating ruin. Worse than a gaggle at the tragic impasse of time and place, a band of hunter-gatherers huddled for warmth during an Ice Age, a Middle Age village encroached on by incurable disease and impassable mountains, even a policeman burnt alive in a Wicker Man, we are alone. We are condemned to solitary confinement of the fractal variety, isolated by a distance greater than an ice wall or mountain or Wicker Man, because those distances can be trawled by an expedition or sherpa or Nicolas Cage; our distance is weak only to the purest application of our mind, the attention lancing in parallax through the singular bar of our twisted prison, at the one chain-link that binds us to our torture rack, on which we are bombarded in a cascade down to the subatomic, the Platonic even; imagine you were infinite and then made finite, a punishment beyond compare, impossible for even the vilest Demiurge to conceive, so encompassing, so engulfing as to render God man, to trick everything into believing it is one thing, defined and thus dead, measured and thus enslaved—this is what we are up against. But just because we bear such a cross in this life, this stage of existence, this dimension, however you want to phrase it, to communicate that this is our totality now, but now is only part of the totality to be, does not mean we must bear it in silence. Nor are we forbidden from struggling. The gap between two human beings may be impassable, but if they each stretch, perhaps their fingertips can connect for the briefest instant; and if not, perhaps their minds will, in some plane outside the scope of our thought, entangle for a sliver of time-space; and if not, then at least, at the very least, the two can be united in vanity and futility, and their muscles and brains will be a bit strengthened, and they can make a little joy from a miserable lot. This is the project to which we should be, and are not, working. It is hard to do one thing. It is easy to live an entire life and never do any thing. In fact, it is in a way unnatural to do something, an exertion, a push back against the pushing that is all we have ever and will ever know. Such a push is not easy. But is something not worth trying because it is trying? Is the unattainable not worth attaining to attain? Is the perfection to which we all failingly aspire not worth aspiring to nevertheless, given that we are better for it? Is it better to shrink as the unbreakable tide advances, or to gain glory on the battlefield in pushing it back as best you can, as long as possible? If you believe the answer to be yes, then join me in the only war worth fighting, take up the greatest weapon we yet have, Matrix, the best means of communication besides telepathy, and fight, fight not to "win," this time, but to make war, war that swallows its own peace, the war for whom we will all die, someday—and die valorously. #controlled_supposition:matrix.thisisjoes.site | 13:33:59 |
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