Serepax

Because the world needs more overwrought candour.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

i can see the course of my life, the broad strokes filling in and it scares me. i don't want to end up like my dad, a good, competent, loving man who can relate to people well, who can be the life of the party, but has no close friends. i want to get away from this, form close links. i envy people who have in-jokes. my friendships seem fleeting, even the oldest, airplanes landing and taking off amidst the rest of life's parade.

depression today. greyness, busyness to occupy our headspace in the wake of clouds and grim. the eternal wondering what life is all about. em reckons the purpose of life is to live, which it is, but that answer effectively denies the existence of the question. and even though she's right, in one sense - the purpose of this time here is to be in this time here, to live life fully, to embrace it without pondering sadly, or indulging in existential angst. and still, still the question will not evaporate, no matter how many referrals or denials of its existence.

from my christian roots, through the lingering sickness and death of my brother, to here and now. i get a lot from christianity, which i think in a lot of ways is the most amazing set of morals and lifeguides ever to grace this planet, but i simply cannot make the leap of faith, the multiple leaps of faith, the adoption of dogma, structures of belief. instead i settle for the 'something else' that people settle for when they don't want to believe in god but can't face up to their own personal extinction, waiting for them under a tree, in the middle of a road, in the middle of the night in their own beds. "yeah, i believe in something" we say vaguely. i mean there's no theoretical problem with god. creationism and evolution can dovetail neatly, with a modicum of effort. the big bang, the moment of creation, who's to say. but when you get down to it, what's the point of mucus? no, really. what's the point of railway waiting, what's the point of two month olds dying in africa, what's the point of the appendix? if life is the prelude and death the true beginning, and we are tested throughout life, where is the possibility of being tested when we are bored? what moral choices do we make watching tv? do we adopt a millionth of the responsibility when we see images outside courtrooms, as cameramen hunt their prey and tell us that he or she is guilty without ever saying so? are we responsible for this? will it be held against us?

and yet the current alternatives, the apparently better methods of living are intellectually bankrupt - (a)moral relativism justified by nihilism, limp new-agey 'philosophies', the acquisitive hyper-greed whose death was prematurely celebrated in the 80's, naked ambition, tech-utopianism, individualism with a streak of selfishness, bland pop buddhism ... the list goes on, and on. after 2000 years of christianity, this mishmash of insipid proposals is its replacement? jesus would be turning in his grave/throne. hang on, i revolutionised society, threw out the brutal ol' eye-for-an-eye, introduced the novel idea of love-thy-neighbour (love in the sense of charity/giving) and offered heaven for all those keen, and this is mark three? sure, we don't slaughter each other in debate over the most pious way to boil an egg anymore, but cmon, what happened to survival of the fittest in the ideas n philosophies arena? survival of the most vague and self-interested, more like.

but perhaps i'm being too eager - we're living in a post-christian era, apparently, and this is the vacuum. nature should start abhoring it soon, and we can all look forward to a rebirth of something more promising.

one other thing: what's with second generation migrants and fast, hotted up cars? the sons of post ww2 greek and italian immigrants acquired beasts with a bone-crunching thrum, and now the sons of the vietnamese and chinese are importing hot cars via the grey market, lowering them to just above the ground, outfitting them with fat exhausts and cute, ethnically identical females and driving very fast for very short periods of time.

my theory: poor immigrants work hard, provide their kids with the things they never had, the kids get part-time jobs and drive the trappings of success. twas probably the same with the irish fleeing the famine - come second generation, out come the sleek carriages complete with oat-fed horses toting black, shiny coats.