Saturday, September 06, 2008
Melancholy
What do you do when you realize that nothing you have ever done or said was original or even interesting? I guess you identify with the huge mass of humanity over the other .00001%*. So there's that to take some cold comfort in. And yes, I realized this at a much younger age, but that nasty ol' mid-life crisis has been punching me in the gut with it. Fortunately, I have my wife and kids, so I can't take this too seriously. But I could do without thinking about it.
*an estimation, based upon the number of zeros I was willing to write. ¶ 23:39
*an estimation, based upon the number of zeros I was willing to write. ¶ 23:39
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Technically, as Steven Pinker points out in "The Blank Slate," natural language's recursive rules mean that it's easy and common to say something that has never been said before. Even that sentence is probably unique. Now, knowledge and meaning aren't so profligately distributed, so you (and I) can go right back to glum rut-plodding.
I suppose that I should've added "thought" to the list of unoriginal
things. It's certainly part of what I had in mind.
And now I'm off to do some serious rut-plodding. I hope the farmer doesn't mind. But if he doesn't, I guess an assfull of rock-salt from
his shotgun might get me going, at least for a few minutes.
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things. It's certainly part of what I had in mind.
And now I'm off to do some serious rut-plodding. I hope the farmer doesn't mind. But if he doesn't, I guess an assfull of rock-salt from
his shotgun might get me going, at least for a few minutes.
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