Animals.
They see the world in a different way than us
But so little thought
And so little understanding

We are animals, too, though
And we understand so little
But they don’t seem to think much
And us?
I don’t know.

We ask questions
And we get answers
They may be right
They may be wrong
But are we asking the right questions?

Is it instinct to ask about the world
And are we programmed to find certain answers
Do they aid in our survival
Do they hinder as nature sometimes does
Does it make any difference?
These are the kinds of questions that animals don’t ask
It would probably hinder them.
At the same time it helps us
Usually.

I just stumbled upon this site, “The Boy Who Cried Iraq“. I may have politically-oriented opinions or whatever but they’re not ever fully well-formed enough or passionately felt enough for me to ever say anything here, but the site speaks to me. I may disagree with some or all of it in the future, but I doubt it. It seems rational enough. I mean, anything that champions critical thinking over anything else is something I can always support. And I have written about rationality here before.

Here’s a tidbit from the site I mentioned in the above entry that really hits home (emphasis mine):

People bring up the fact that “I’d rather live here than there” and all that irrelevant drivel. That’s not an excuse to let things go. The “lesser of two evils” argument does not cut it. Hitler was not better than Stalin because he killed less people. We must strive for more. For better.

It’s the same as telling a black guy in the 40’s to “deal with it, at least you’re free” - it’s just doesn’t work. Nothing should ever be “good enough.”

I am like Data (the android from Start Trek: The Next Generation) in that I’m trying to understand what it’s like to be human. I even feel like a nonhuman robot sometimes. Like now, kind of. The way I try to figure out this human nature thing is the same way I try to figure out anything. I break things down into its constituent parts. I get rid of anything that isn’t vital. I try to simplify and abstract what it is I’m trying to understand. When doing this to myself in the context of being a human, I actually lose my sense of feeling human. My thoughts on the subject range over a crazy variety of ways of looking at it. One way consists of humans being a specific configuration of particles that “change” over time. Another way is the universe looking back into itself. Another way is that humans are thinking machines.

I’m just rambling, by the way. I’m not getting at any particular point here. But then, that’s part of being human I guess. Not rambling, per se, but the acknowledgment of rambling and continuing to ramble. Like I said, I have no idea of what I’m saying right now. I’m grasping for a state of mind. And I’m trying to escape this nonhuman feeling by trying to do something distinctively human, that is, writing. But I’m typing with a machine, to a machine. I know that you, the reader, are human. Well, I’m assuming. See, if you were a machine reading this, you wouldn’t understand that I was talking about you. But then machines wouldn’t care and besides, I’m not talking about you in particular, because I have no idea who’s reading this while someone (you!) is reading this.

Now I’m just being silly and playing with linguistic constructs (I think). I mean, I’m playing with the language. Yeah. I’m being condecending. That’s what a lot of people accuse me of being ’cause I’m like smart and stuff and I speak with big words. I’m not drunk. My brain’s just a little fatigued. Why couldn’t I just be a normal guy who likes beer, sports, cars and little else. Well, I do like women. But then why must so many guys be normal. Fucking normal guys. They get all the girls. One day the tables will turn and chicks will dig weirdos. Not necessarily creepy weirdos, but I mean guys like me. Well, some regard me as creepy. Hell, just by reading this, one would be inclined to think I was creepy.

Or maybe not. I just want to be happy. Happy with someone who didn’t think I was creepy, or too smart, or too condescending, or too boring. I don’t think you’re creepy. I love you (unless you’re a guy, except for my dad, I love him but only as a father, you know). I love my kitty but not in any creepy way. Ick. I better get to work or sleep now. Zeepa.

Who you are = (Your life experiences) - (What you can’t remember at the moment)

I’m writing this because I have no choice, or so I believe. The events that led up to this point are interesting, at least I think so. Observably, nothing interesting happened. I went to a seminar for entrepeneurs this evening and on my way home from there I had the idea of writing an entry on this site. The interesting events that I’m talking about are the patterns of unconscious thoughts whizzing through my brain, the exchanges of neurochemical messages, and the bouncing of electrons. I believe it was those little things that ultimately led me to write this right now.

I think that change exists only in our minds. Outside of our minds, nothing changes. Just like how the sun doesn’t move in relation to the earth, yet we see it rise and set day after day. I still can’t say how it’s possible for there to be no change when our view of the world always changes. I don’t think I’ll be ever able to point something out that shows that time itself is an illusion.

If I can remember what happened in the past and my future self will remember how I was now, then how can I say that things in the past could’ve been different? I could have decided differently in some situation, sure, but then the circumastances that drove me to that decision would had to have been different. And whatever caused those circumstances to be would also had to have been different, ad infinitum. And it isn’t a simple case of event A causing event B, except on the infintismal level of atoms bumping into other atoms and the forces that move them around.

I don’t see time and space as if they made up a film, with frame after frame. I see time and space as one continuous cable and every elementary particle in it is a wire that runs from one end of time to the other. Some wires twist together and form atoms, and some of these bundles twist around each other to form solar systems and galaxies. People, too, are bundles of running wires. As our cells divide, more wires are brought into the bundle, and as our cells die off, wires separate. And eventually, all the wires that make up who we are go their own separate way and we cease to be.

One of the most unrestricted things I can do is try to point out how restricted we all really are. And one of the most predictable things anyone can do is try to show that what I say can’t be true.

It’s not as late as it seems, judging by the timestamp for this entry. You see, Daylight Saving Time just went to effect. And I’m mainly writing ’cause I realized that the date is “04-04-04″ and it won’t be for another 100 years so I thought, what the heck—I might as well share something with the world.

As usual, I have lots to say but no one in particular to say it to, and when it comes to saying it to the world on this web site, I don’t actually feel like saying anything, even though many would prefer I say any silly new thing here than for me not to say anything at all. But now I’ve gone and written about not writing here, which (as I’ve written before) I hate doing. Why I don’t delete that bit, either, is another story. The short of that is that I don’t know why I don’t delete it. I guess it’s still better than nothing, though it may not always be so.

Nothing very interesting actually happening in my life, either. The only news really, is that my cat is in heat. I never had a female cat before, so it’s an interesting experience. If women naturally acted like cats in heat, the world would be crazier than it already is. Crazy in what way, you ask? I don’t know, I’m just making implying statements. After all, it’s almost 4 in the morning! Don’t expect anything coherent (even if it still feels like 3 AM).