| Topic: |
Religions > Atheism |
| User: |
"Uncle Buck" |
| Date: |
03 Sep 2005 11:06:05 PM |
| Object: |
"Will They Care?" |
"Will They Care?"
©2005 Bill Shroyer
We live our lives, we perceive our world. We feel here, we feel now.
We are the zenith of terrestrial existence, the climax of human
evolution. We feel the wind on our skin and the ground beneath our
feet as we embark on our journey surrounded - whether we like it or
not - by our fellow travellers.
In a few short years we fade into obscurity, never to be heard from or
spoken of again. Gone is the wind from against our skin, scattered
the dust which once retained the impression of our footsteps. Will
our children's children remember us? Will their children care that we
ever existed? Save but for some dust bearing the footprints of those
who come after, what of us shall remain a few thousand years hence?
Will anything of our world hold similar importance to eyes of the
future as it held for us during our own time?
In some distant past, a young mother heard her baby softly coo, its
very first attempt at deliberate communication as for the first time,
it _recognized_ her and she knew it. It smiled at her, reaching out
to grip the end of her finger as babies often do. The feelings for
that young mother as she felt the fledgeling grasp of her child her
were indescribable, the intensity of the moment almost as much as she
could bear. It made the world for her. It... explained...
_EVERYTHING_.
And now? Both mother and baby have long since turned to dust, their
moment forever gone. We know that such moments occur, have occurred
and will hopefully continue to occur. But that one moment - that
particular flickering intimacy... It's gone, absorbed into the
ceaseless churning tide of ensuing events. Nobody cares about that
one moment any more. It has no meaning to anyone, anywhere. Even
within that mother's lifetime, perhaps in the senility of her later
years, the experience had to have diminished some. Such golden
experience is swiftly drowned by the ceaseless, unflinching barrage of
life as it keeps churning on, carrying us along with it to
destinations unknowable. Could she possibly have fathomed how
insignificant the cooing of that precious new life would become in so
short a time? Can we fathom just how truly insignificant our own
experiences will become? How truly insignificant they already are?
The air you are breathing at this very moment has cycled through
countless other lungs and bloodstreams, human and not, keeping
innumerable individuals alive for one more instant. It's occasionally
even marked in a final sigh the ceasing of yet another life. The same
air that breezes through your nostrils _right *now*_ has brushed
through the hair and the lips of both heros and villains, the strong
and the dying... the famous, the infamous and the obscure. Most of
the water we drink, even, has passed through the veins of countless
other beings on its way from life's beginning to life's end. Take a
look at any given glass of water - the stories it could tell if only
its molecules could speak. The places it's been, the events it's been
a part of... All that means nothing to us. All any of us care about
is that we can use that water now, in the moment. And once it's gone
from us and this moment, it will mean nothing yet again. Our lives
are like that water - pooled together from innumerable sources,
present and essential - but only for a moment, one which no one will
remember.
Countless pleasures and pains have passed through our world like this
- moments of intensity and feeling that are beyond anything most of us
will ever experience. Pleasures and pains most of us could never
imagine. All of them gone now, nothing more than a speck of dust
adrift upon the winds of eternity. Oh sure, some of us manage to
embody our experiences for a few hundred, perhaps even a few thousand
years in words and art. But even then the moment, the true vividity
of it all - is forever gone. Entire nations fade into nothingness.
In some future era - perhaps not at all that distant - even humanity
will cease to exist. Worse than the fact that no one will care, no
one will even know that we ever had been.
Countless individuals have died for causes now so distant, so
obscure... Could they ever have imagined as they fell that some day,
nobody would remember them or care that they once had lived and
breathed the very same air we still breathe to this very day? That
their cause, their sacrifice would ultimately turn out to mean nothing
at all to anyone, anywhere?
If humanity never makes it off this rock, then all that may remain of
us at some distant future point are a few probes drifting around in
deep space or on a few of the nearby worlds. Our culture, our
civilization, our art, our lives and our loves - all traces of it will
be consumed to ashes in the death of our sun. The mountains we loved,
the rivers we swam and the oceans we've sailed - all will be vast
plains of charred or molten earth and a comet-like tail trailing
Earth's cindered corpse as the sun blasts it slowly to oblivion. Even
that dramatic display will be fleeting. Those technological
emanations to have escaped our sphere will be absorbed irretrievably
into the background noise as it expands in an ever-breaking bubble.
All of human history will have passed without making even so much as a
blip on the cosmic radar screen, a single transient hiss of
meaningless static snapping momentarily upon the radio of some
otherworldly inhabitant who will not only fail to recognize it as
having once held meaning, but who will in turn also one day mean
nothing.
In a world where the future will leave footprints in the dust that was
"us", what is the value of personal meaning? These things have no
value to the universe at large, it couldn't care less whether we live
or die or whether or not the experience "meant" anything to us along
the way.
Is the dust beneath our feet any more meaningful to us just because it
used to be part of some other being living in some other time? What
in light of the universe's disinterest gives our lives significance,
makes our existence more than utterly pointless? There can be only
one answer that fits: We do.
A legacy is a fine thing to leave for the future. But you can't
depend on it to last for very long. Make your life mean something to
you now, while you're still here to appreciate it.
.
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| User: "Denis Loubet" |
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| Title: Re: "Will They Care?" |
03 Sep 2005 11:09:38 PM |
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"Uncle Buck" <UncleBuck@SpamMeNot.com> wrote in message
news:2irkh1l4f4uh9itsq8c4590bkvc4pko52v@4ax.com...
"Will They Care?"
©2005 Bill Shroyer
(snip)
In some distant past, a young mother heard her baby softly coo, its
very first attempt at deliberate communication as for the first time,
it _recognized_ her and she knew it. It smiled at her, reaching out
to grip the end of her finger as babies often do. The feelings for
that young mother as she felt the fledgeling grasp of her child her
were indescribable, the intensity of the moment almost as much as she
could bear. It made the world for her. It... explained...
_EVERYTHING_.
And now? Both mother and baby have long since turned to dust, their
moment forever gone. We know that such moments occur, have occurred
and will hopefully continue to occur. But that one moment - that
particular flickering intimacy... It's gone, absorbed into the
ceaseless churning tide of ensuing events. Nobody cares about that
one moment any more. It has no meaning to anyone, anywhere. Even
within that mother's lifetime, perhaps in the senility of her later
years, the experience had to have diminished some. Such golden
experience is swiftly drowned by the ceaseless, unflinching barrage of
life as it keeps churning on, carrying us along with it to
destinations unknowable. Could she possibly have fathomed how
insignificant the cooing of that precious new life would become in so
short a time? Can we fathom just how truly insignificant our own
experiences will become? How truly insignificant they already are?
(snip)
Interesting piece, but I have to argue with something here. Forgotten is not
the same as meaningless. The moment is not meaningless, in fact the author
employed the very meaning of it to make a point, but it happens to be the
wrong point. The moment is not without meaning, it's simply forgotten. And
forgotten is not the same as gone. The meaning given to that moment, when it
happened, echoes into the future whether people remember it or not. That
moment changed the mother, just slightly, and that change was reflected in
her attachment to the baby, which grew up responding to that attachment, and
passed it's own reflection of that moment onto it's children. And so on,
cause and effect echoing into eternity. The causes may be forgotten, but the
meaning remains as the effects.
Of course, that does not change the importance of making the most of this
life, because it's the only one you'll have. You want your echoes to be
strong and positive.
--
Denis Loubet
dloubet@io.com
http://www.io.com/~dloubet
http://www.ashenempires.com
.
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| User: "Nick J." |
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| Title: Re: "Will They Care?" |
04 Sep 2005 02:46:06 AM |
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Denis Loubet wrote:
"Uncle Buck" <UncleBuck@SpamMeNot.com> wrote in message
news:2irkh1l4f4uh9itsq8c4590bkvc4pko52v@4ax.com...
"Will They Care?"
=A92005 Bill Shroyer
(snip)
In some distant past, a young mother heard her baby softly coo, its
very first attempt at deliberate communication as for the first time,
it _recognized_ her and she knew it. It smiled at her, reaching out
to grip the end of her finger as babies often do. The feelings for
that young mother as she felt the fledgeling grasp of her child her
were indescribable, the intensity of the moment almost as much as she
could bear. It made the world for her. It... explained...
_EVERYTHING_.
And now? Both mother and baby have long since turned to dust, their
moment forever gone. We know that such moments occur, have occurred
and will hopefully continue to occur. But that one moment - that
particular flickering intimacy... It's gone, absorbed into the
ceaseless churning tide of ensuing events. Nobody cares about that
one moment any more. It has no meaning to anyone, anywhere. Even
within that mother's lifetime, perhaps in the senility of her later
years, the experience had to have diminished some. Such golden
experience is swiftly drowned by the ceaseless, unflinching barrage of
life as it keeps churning on, carrying us along with it to
destinations unknowable. Could she possibly have fathomed how
insignificant the cooing of that precious new life would become in so
short a time? Can we fathom just how truly insignificant our own
experiences will become? How truly insignificant they already are?
(snip)
Interesting piece, but I have to argue with something here. Forgotten is =
not
the same as meaningless. The moment is not meaningless, in fact the author
employed the very meaning of it to make a point, but it happens to be the
wrong point. The moment is not without meaning, it's simply forgotten. And
forgotten is not the same as gone. The meaning given to that moment, when=
it
happened, echoes into the future whether people remember it or not. That
moment changed the mother, just slightly, and that change was reflected in
her attachment to the baby, which grew up responding to that attachment, =
and
passed it's own reflection of that moment onto it's children. And so on,
cause and effect echoing into eternity. The causes may be forgotten, but =
the
meaning remains as the effects.
Of course, that does not change the importance of making the most of this
life, because it's the only one you'll have. You want your echoes to be
strong and positive.
You know that scene in all the 80's-era movies, when something awesome
would happen near the end of the film and then one man would start
slowly clapping, picking up the pace as others joined him, until an
impromptu standing ovation was created? That's what you should get
right now. Spot on, sir, spot on.
.
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| User: "Denis Loubet" |
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| Title: Re: "Will They Care?" |
04 Sep 2005 03:06:24 PM |
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"Nick J." <NICK0094@hotmail.com> wrote in message
news:1125819966.616009.297530@g47g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
Denis Loubet wrote:
"Uncle Buck" <UncleBuck@SpamMeNot.com> wrote in message
news:2irkh1l4f4uh9itsq8c4590bkvc4pko52v@4ax.com...
"Will They Care?"
©2005 Bill Shroyer
(snip)
In some distant past, a young mother heard her baby softly coo, its
very first attempt at deliberate communication as for the first time,
it _recognized_ her and she knew it. It smiled at her, reaching out
to grip the end of her finger as babies often do. The feelings for
that young mother as she felt the fledgeling grasp of her child her
were indescribable, the intensity of the moment almost as much as she
could bear. It made the world for her. It... explained...
_EVERYTHING_.
And now? Both mother and baby have long since turned to dust, their
moment forever gone. We know that such moments occur, have occurred
and will hopefully continue to occur. But that one moment - that
particular flickering intimacy... It's gone, absorbed into the
ceaseless churning tide of ensuing events. Nobody cares about that
one moment any more. It has no meaning to anyone, anywhere. Even
within that mother's lifetime, perhaps in the senility of her later
years, the experience had to have diminished some. Such golden
experience is swiftly drowned by the ceaseless, unflinching barrage of
life as it keeps churning on, carrying us along with it to
destinations unknowable. Could she possibly have fathomed how
insignificant the cooing of that precious new life would become in so
short a time? Can we fathom just how truly insignificant our own
experiences will become? How truly insignificant they already are?
(snip)
Interesting piece, but I have to argue with something here. Forgotten is
not
the same as meaningless. The moment is not meaningless, in fact the author
employed the very meaning of it to make a point, but it happens to be the
wrong point. The moment is not without meaning, it's simply forgotten. And
forgotten is not the same as gone. The meaning given to that moment, when
it
happened, echoes into the future whether people remember it or not. That
moment changed the mother, just slightly, and that change was reflected in
her attachment to the baby, which grew up responding to that attachment,
and
passed it's own reflection of that moment onto it's children. And so on,
cause and effect echoing into eternity. The causes may be forgotten, but
the
meaning remains as the effects.
Of course, that does not change the importance of making the most of this
life, because it's the only one you'll have. You want your echoes to be
strong and positive.
You know that scene in all the 80's-era movies, when something awesome
would happen near the end of the film and then one man would start
slowly clapping, picking up the pace as others joined him, until an
impromptu standing ovation was created? That's what you should get
right now. Spot on, sir, spot on.
Thank you.
Now do I have to look into the wings in stunned disbelief as my misfit
friends that supported me through my fits of self doubt ecstatically hug
each other, and even the two taciturn guys that run the curtain nod in
grudging respect?
(I saw too many of those damn movies. Curse you for reminding me!)
;-)
--
Denis Loubet
dloubet@io.com
http://www.io.com/~dloubet
http://www.ashenempires.com
.
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| User: "Sean C" |
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| Title: Re: "Will They Care?" |
04 Sep 2005 01:47:58 AM |
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In article <2irkh1l4f4uh9itsq8c4590bkvc4pko52v@4ax.com>, Uncle Buck
<UncleBuck@SpamMeNot.com> wrote:
"Will They Care?"
©2005 Bill Shroyer
Is the dust beneath our feet any more meaningful to us just because it
used to be part of some other being living in some other time? What
in light of the universe's disinterest gives our lives significance,
makes our existence more than utterly pointless? There can be only
one answer that fits: We do.
A legacy is a fine thing to leave for the future. But you can't
depend on it to last for very long. Make your life mean something to
you now, while you're still here to appreciate it.
Yes, I couldn't agree more. I have often thought along similar lines,
and wonder often about what life must have been like for people who
lived centuries ago. I wonder about their joy, their pain and what they
felt and experienced as they went about their lives. In the end, I can
never really know, but can only guess at what they felt through the
prism of my own experience, for the reality of who they were is lost
forever, and the intensity of their feelings and the things that
mattered to them are lost in the immensity of time like tears in the
ocean.
When I was a kid and believed in God, I often imagined that when I
died, I would get to see my whole life played back for me--every
moment, every thought, every experience--as if I was watching a movie,
so that not a single thing that happened would have lost its meaning or
purpose. It would be preserved forever, as would the experiences of
all other people, and we could all observe and review each other's
lives and experiences at our leisure, for all eternity. Not an iota of
our existence would be forgotten. And I believed that God in his
limitless immensity would absorb the totality of all our existences:
every thought, every feeling, the shifting of every grain of sand, the
song of every bird. It would all have had meaning and purpose in the
end.
But now that I am atheist, and tend to see things the way the author
does, it fills me with a deep sadness to think that all the tremendous
emotion and energy we invest into this life will, in the end, fade into
the immensity of time, and be forgotten. Even if some alien race comes
and vists our planet centuries after the last human has passed on, they
will know nothing of our everyday cares and joys, who laughed at a good
joke, cried at his son's funeral, or loved his childhood sweetheart.
And it is that terrible, sad realization that now is all there is, and
now is the only thing that has meaning, that convinces me to live each
moment as best I can and get as much out of it as possible. And I think
that this is why I place such a premium on human life and compassion,
because life is such a tenuous thing, and no one here will ever be here
again. No life, nor any moment in anyone's life, will ever be repeated.
A life is a terrible thing to waste.
Sean C
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| User: "Ben Goren" |
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| Title: Re: "Will They Care?" |
03 Sep 2005 09:18:38 PM |
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Uncle Buck wrote:
Make your life mean something to you now, while you're still
here to appreciate it.
Amen.
Cheers,
b&
--
BAAWA Knight of Blasphemy
All but God can prove this sentence true.
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