Ok, so here's something I thought of while brushing my teeth. I have an odd perception and relationship with alcohol and to a somewhat lesser extent drugs. The last time I had a drink was January 1, 2003. Pretty easy to remember. Got way drunk with friends on New Year's Eve and was still drinking, alone, as the sun began to hint at rising then passed out waking a few hours later to drive my girlfriend home and then myself. I was incredibly drunk and hungover I don't know how I did it. But I do know why, because, to be blunt, alcohol fucks you up. I drank to drink and no other reason. That was one of the few times when I drank that I wasn't overly conscious of myself and what I was doing. I think I had my first drink when I was 13 or 14. Who knows. I remember nursing a Coors Light while watching Woodstock '99 live with my much older cousin. We watched Metallica. I don't think that was my first drink, but it's the earliest I can remember. From that point I was pretty much a responsible drunk. I got drunk but not too drunk so that I was able to make sure my friends and fellow drinkers didn't get themselves into too much trouble. I think I really began drinking when I started getting into 1960s culture and more specifically when I began listening to The Doors and reading Jim Morrison's poetry and books about getting fucked up in Southern California and London and wherever else. I drank (and did drugs) not out of peer pressure (because none of my friends at that age did anything their parents would disapprove of), but because I wanted to see what it was like. When I drank and got high I wrote a lot and played music. Not that any of it was any good or legible but it was a release, or something to that effect. Eventually I did meet people who drank and did drugs and hung out with them. I did do some stupid stuff but never blacked out (well, once, I think). My parents knew I drank but for some reason they trusted me enough not to ground me forever, not that I would have listened anyway, I knew everything at 17. After that New Year's day I was so disappointed in myself that I couldn't drink for a while. It's been 6 ½ years now. Weird. I don't resent people who drink simply for drinking. Just like with anything else if it affects me in a negative way then yes I'll be upset. The only people I know who don't drink are my family. In a weird way I feel like a drinker on occasion. I know how to interact with drunk people and actually have fun doing it. I find it interesting as well how when people noticing me not drinking they get offended or standoffish (off fish!). It's funny. I guess they think I'm weird or a creeper. Maybe so. Ok, back to what inspired this history of my drinking life. I find myself every so often contemplating drinking again. I make plans for when I'll have a drink, just one. But when I get to that point I don't drink. I have a few reasons. One is a reason from when I did drink. I used to play music with older college kids when I was in high school and they provided me with access to all kinds of drink and drug (women too oddly enough). I was always welcome to sleep on their couch and I often took up the offer but I usually liked to sleep in my own bed at my folks house. That was a half-hour drive and damn if I was going to drive drunk and get pulled over. So I wouldn't drink, or limit myself to one or two beers. That worked. That's one of the reasons I still don't drink. Though these days I don't have my own bed so much, but it still applies. Another reason is hangovers. I really only had a couple of times when I can say I had a real hangover. One ended with me shotgunning the remnants of my fourth malt liquor 40 and talking to a dog who watched me and then passing out. I awoke in pain. That was horrible. Since I quit drinking I have changed a lot as a person. Anyone who knows me knows how much I exercise and am obsessed (I'll say it!) with personal health and wellbeing. I like waking up early and enjoying the daylight as opposed to staying up late (it's 11pm right now, what the hell?). I have no room in my life for hangovers and feeling shitty in general. That seems to be one of the big reasons for me not drinking. I feel, be it founded in reality or not, that even if I have one or “just a couple” of drinks I'll feel like shit in the morning. But then sometimes I eat too much food on the weekends and wake up feeling like shit. It may be that I really dislike having headaches. Really dislike. Though being sick has become somewhat of a novelty for me, being as that I do not often get ill. I'm weird. Straight up. I then think what will drinking get me? Nothing really. Less money, more possibilities for things to go wrong. I also think it's funny that I seem (at least I think so) like a guy who likes to drink and party. Maybe I don't come across that way when folks know me a little better, but I'm thinking more of first impressions. I always like the question “You don't drink? Why?” (somewhat flabbergasted). It's translated more as “Why the fuck are you here then?” i.e. where people are drinking. I do like to drunk watch, when I know the drunks. They're fun to talk with a fun to confuse. I'm a bastard. So that's drinking.
Drugs are a whole new place. I can say, be it quantity, quality and hours spent, I have been high on drugs more than drunk. Totally. I started smoking weed when I was 12 or 13. I feel old when I can't quite remember. I've never not liked getting high. Even after I stopped drinking I kept smoking weed. I was never a stoner so much. I just liked getting high when I could. I did other drugs too, but mostly weed. I liked codeine and morphine, but they were too good. So was the cocaine. Too damn good. I used my head when it came to that stuff. I did acid, mushrooms, mescaline, and other things I don't quite know what they were but messed me up good. Got into cough medicine too. Fuckin stupid. Never did anything crazy and never will. I always knew the really hard stuff wasn't worth it. Like alcohol, I think of smoking weed, or doing it more often. I've done it a few times in the last three years or so, but had a good long time when I didn't smoke at all. Some two years I think. Basically college. Most of my peers were high or drunk while I was at home reading Orwell books and drinking tea and writing prose. Weird. My best friend in high school put being high on weed so succinctly that I have yet to find a better description. He said when you're high everything is a mission. It's so true. That's why it's so hard to do more than one thing at a time. No multi-tasking while high. There's no way you can keep track. I think that's why I don't smoke so much anymore. I don't need to be on a mission. It's not relaxing. Playing guitar or reading is enough. I really am an old man. Shit. I really have to be in the right state of mind and place to get high. And I don't hang out with people who smoke anyway. They mostly get drunk, and some complain about pot smokers and how bad weed is. Oh the irony. Indeed.
The question I come back to in many parts of my life and this one in particular is “how will this or does this make my life any better? Will it be better if I do it? What do I gain, or what can I lose?” I lose money, a soft bed, and maybe self-respect. That said, and for some reason I think of Cody laughing at me, I will drink again, that's for certain. But who knows when or why, but that'll be a funny day.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
of interest
I remembered something that I wrote last fall, in Nebraska I think. This is it.
I've learned to accept a lot of things in and about my life. I know that I cannot change most things. I can only change how I look at things. I accept how great and awful things can be. It's hard and frustrating and heartbreaking. this said, there is one thing that I cannot accept: that I am alone, that I have to be, that I was born to be. There are many people who I share commonalities with, people who I am like. there just seems to be something missing. One part of me that's not in them. Soul hunger. Can I give that part of myself to someone else? Would they even know that's what I am doing? Regardless, there comes a point when being alone gets old. It starts with the idea that it's only temporary, that sometime soon something else will come along. Then comes the virtuosity of being alone. The joy of solitude. Oh, how glorious it is to bask in its vast palette of opportunity. Then is ambivalence, or just not having time to notice. And when you stop and breathe out, you see how at every turn you wished there was someone there. Because what is a sunset, a view, an adventure, and idea, without someone else to share it with? After a time these thins seem futile, mediocre, empty, wasted. It's difficult to describe beautiful for someone. It's easy to show them.
It was after writing this that I told myself I was going to start really living. Even if it hurt, or didn't make any sense. I think it's working.
I've learned to accept a lot of things in and about my life. I know that I cannot change most things. I can only change how I look at things. I accept how great and awful things can be. It's hard and frustrating and heartbreaking. this said, there is one thing that I cannot accept: that I am alone, that I have to be, that I was born to be. There are many people who I share commonalities with, people who I am like. there just seems to be something missing. One part of me that's not in them. Soul hunger. Can I give that part of myself to someone else? Would they even know that's what I am doing? Regardless, there comes a point when being alone gets old. It starts with the idea that it's only temporary, that sometime soon something else will come along. Then comes the virtuosity of being alone. The joy of solitude. Oh, how glorious it is to bask in its vast palette of opportunity. Then is ambivalence, or just not having time to notice. And when you stop and breathe out, you see how at every turn you wished there was someone there. Because what is a sunset, a view, an adventure, and idea, without someone else to share it with? After a time these thins seem futile, mediocre, empty, wasted. It's difficult to describe beautiful for someone. It's easy to show them.
It was after writing this that I told myself I was going to start really living. Even if it hurt, or didn't make any sense. I think it's working.
Monday, July 27, 2009
It's hard enough
I recently brought up my “things I like post” in conversation and have been thinking more about that lately, and of course science too. Going along with that I've been thinking about the idea of beauty in the world and in my life.
Much of what we do as humans (or for any other organism) is based on reproducing to create further generations. To quote the quotable Richard Dawkins “That is why we love life, love sex and love children.” True enough. There are many things that I enjoy in life that are a result of natural selection and evolution in general. For instance, I like to watch the flickers behind my house looking for food in the grass then see them fly away with their striped wing patterns and chest markings. I know that their colorization has an adaptive reason, but I do not enjoy it less because of that. I just like to watch flickers, or any other bird mostly because they're fun to watch and they have markings that are amazing either pecking around a tree or in flight. There is no reason why one should be tainted by the other. They can both be appreciated for their beauty and complexity. The other example is people. I feel that a lot of people dislike science because they feel it is sterile and heartless. Sometimes, but if you are able to appreciate how beautiful a cell or a process is then it is a joyous thing to observe. I'm an archaeologist (of sorts, I know) and I have seen a lot of beautiful pieces of pottery, architecture, and stone work. A lot of the time artifacts or sites are simply turned into data. That helps us quantify things and hopefully help us learn more. At the same time I often look at a piece of pottery with a sense of awe not only because of its age or location but also because of its beauty and the fact that I know another person made it with their own hands. It's also funny to think about aesthetics in the archaeological record. We always look at site location in terms of utilitarianism, though I have often looked at a site and though “yea, I'd build here, it's got a great view.”
The Dawkins quote really sums up what I'm try to pin down. Humans have appreciated beauty for a long time. I tend to think of more simple things in nature or human emotions. It makes sense that things like sex and sexual attraction exist. If we had no motivation to have sex and reproduce then our species would be out the door quick. That said one would be hard up to find a scientist who rejects sex and intimate relationships because they're simply evolutionary tactics to get us to make offspring. Sure that's why, but at the same time having relationships and sex are very enjoyable despite their intention (they should be anyway). People coming together and creating something positive, even if it based on evolution, isn't a bad thing. Particularly for those people. That goes for the feelings parents have for children and vise versa. It makes sense from a scientific side but also enriches our lives because humans have created this crazy thing we call culture. We've essentially created the idea of feelings and let them affect how we interact and deal with the world and one another.
I care why something is beautiful on the basis of fitness or adaptation but also care that something is beautiful when it makes me feel good to observe or be a part of it. There is no reason to let one or the other dominate all the time and restrict how one sees the world. It's easy to get lost in either one. I'll still marvel at mitochondria and feel so humbled when standing under a massive 400 year old Ponderosa pine with my arms stretched as wide as I can around it. Sometimes some things make one feel totally irrational and silly but are totally worth it.
Much of what we do as humans (or for any other organism) is based on reproducing to create further generations. To quote the quotable Richard Dawkins “That is why we love life, love sex and love children.” True enough. There are many things that I enjoy in life that are a result of natural selection and evolution in general. For instance, I like to watch the flickers behind my house looking for food in the grass then see them fly away with their striped wing patterns and chest markings. I know that their colorization has an adaptive reason, but I do not enjoy it less because of that. I just like to watch flickers, or any other bird mostly because they're fun to watch and they have markings that are amazing either pecking around a tree or in flight. There is no reason why one should be tainted by the other. They can both be appreciated for their beauty and complexity. The other example is people. I feel that a lot of people dislike science because they feel it is sterile and heartless. Sometimes, but if you are able to appreciate how beautiful a cell or a process is then it is a joyous thing to observe. I'm an archaeologist (of sorts, I know) and I have seen a lot of beautiful pieces of pottery, architecture, and stone work. A lot of the time artifacts or sites are simply turned into data. That helps us quantify things and hopefully help us learn more. At the same time I often look at a piece of pottery with a sense of awe not only because of its age or location but also because of its beauty and the fact that I know another person made it with their own hands. It's also funny to think about aesthetics in the archaeological record. We always look at site location in terms of utilitarianism, though I have often looked at a site and though “yea, I'd build here, it's got a great view.”
The Dawkins quote really sums up what I'm try to pin down. Humans have appreciated beauty for a long time. I tend to think of more simple things in nature or human emotions. It makes sense that things like sex and sexual attraction exist. If we had no motivation to have sex and reproduce then our species would be out the door quick. That said one would be hard up to find a scientist who rejects sex and intimate relationships because they're simply evolutionary tactics to get us to make offspring. Sure that's why, but at the same time having relationships and sex are very enjoyable despite their intention (they should be anyway). People coming together and creating something positive, even if it based on evolution, isn't a bad thing. Particularly for those people. That goes for the feelings parents have for children and vise versa. It makes sense from a scientific side but also enriches our lives because humans have created this crazy thing we call culture. We've essentially created the idea of feelings and let them affect how we interact and deal with the world and one another.
I care why something is beautiful on the basis of fitness or adaptation but also care that something is beautiful when it makes me feel good to observe or be a part of it. There is no reason to let one or the other dominate all the time and restrict how one sees the world. It's easy to get lost in either one. I'll still marvel at mitochondria and feel so humbled when standing under a massive 400 year old Ponderosa pine with my arms stretched as wide as I can around it. Sometimes some things make one feel totally irrational and silly but are totally worth it.
Friday, June 26, 2009
and good
The future is very close, well that's how I feel anyway. Things are coming together as they often do in my mind. This time, though, I am being somewhat reasonable and confident. With fire season as slow as it is I have been able to examine things that would otherwise go un-thought-about. It's almost a good thing that I'm not making hundreds of dollars a day for weeks on end. Almost. I have been noticing things that a year ago I did not. Even when we have been on fires I have found myself enjoying the green of the flora, the breeze through the pines (best sound in the world), the birds fleeing the fire (how morbid) or just swooping around through the tree tops, the smells of a long awaited summer. I keep getting reminded of my childhood summers. The feelings of a carefree existence. It's so odd. I have one of the most physically brutal jobs I will ever have, and yet I have time to feel. I'm not mindless. I see more to the woods than how it should burn and how much my next paycheck will be. It's odd, wonderful. I have come to a point of caring. Not caring about some things, and caring more about others. I do suppose that this could find me in a bad situation if I am not vigilant at a time when I need to be. Though, with my insane infatuation with the fact that the woods burns with some frequency, I find it hard to believe that I'll be caught too off guard by the cunning mistress that the superintendent warns us is most capable of lulling us into complacency. I'll survive, I'd better dammit.
So anyway, the future. It's so reasonable and accomplishable. Things are lining up because I have lined them up, and if all the forces I cannot control keep cool most things should be great. The one thing that really energizes me is the strong possibility that I'll be able to leave the country for a while, and not alone. A lifelong goal so close, so close.
I can't say I've had a better two days off. It must be the book that I'm reading.
I am struggling with the feelings that I am having about this job. It's cool and fun and it pays well, but I want it to be over as soon as possible. I still have a good four months left. It'll be long in some ways I'm sure and short in others. The whole inevitable future thing walks beside me through each day, and I realize that where I am now is not my future. I am feeling more confident in myself and about my abilities as a person. I hope to be put in a leadership position this year for a while. I know that I can lead people, I just need more fire knowledge. There are people whom with I work that are in no position to be in the positions that they hold. I feel that if I show my skills as a leader their lack of abilities will come out. That sounds bad. It is, but it's different when everything your job involves could kill you very easily.
I bought some cilantro, that is also something that raises my spirits, a loaf of bread too.
Not sure what it is I just wrote, but it was fun, and good.
So anyway, the future. It's so reasonable and accomplishable. Things are lining up because I have lined them up, and if all the forces I cannot control keep cool most things should be great. The one thing that really energizes me is the strong possibility that I'll be able to leave the country for a while, and not alone. A lifelong goal so close, so close.
I can't say I've had a better two days off. It must be the book that I'm reading.
I am struggling with the feelings that I am having about this job. It's cool and fun and it pays well, but I want it to be over as soon as possible. I still have a good four months left. It'll be long in some ways I'm sure and short in others. The whole inevitable future thing walks beside me through each day, and I realize that where I am now is not my future. I am feeling more confident in myself and about my abilities as a person. I hope to be put in a leadership position this year for a while. I know that I can lead people, I just need more fire knowledge. There are people whom with I work that are in no position to be in the positions that they hold. I feel that if I show my skills as a leader their lack of abilities will come out. That sounds bad. It is, but it's different when everything your job involves could kill you very easily.
I bought some cilantro, that is also something that raises my spirits, a loaf of bread too.
Not sure what it is I just wrote, but it was fun, and good.
Monday, June 22, 2009
well
Here I am, sitting up late at night once again thinking about the past. This I often find myself doing. I suppose it's because of the lack of things to think about at the moment. The past comes to me and I often look at moments that I look at often. I think about “being over” things, but I never really am. It's pretty much impossible to be. There is a set of moments that I think about, with some frequency when in this state of contemplation. I have decided that what I feel is not regret. It's the feeling of knowing that an opportunity was lost. And was what was lost worth being where I am now? I'm not sure. Many good things have happened since, but who knows what would have happened. I realize that the opportunity lost was what I am still looking for. I guess that makes it harder, that's why it keeps me up late at night when I should be catching up on fourteen nights of lost and uneasy sleep.
Sitting here wondering about all of this makes me feel that I'm not in the right place. Be it physically or mentally. I am certainly somewhere, regardless. Too bad the somewhere is a place that I need to get out of as soon as possible. It's almost an addiction. Terrible and soothing. Mindless. I suppose that's the problem. I have nowhere to think. No time to remember me. No time for my mind to wander beyond the next twenty-four hours. My feet move constantly, but that's only life proving to me that it still exists and it's happening all the time.
The past two weeks often found me seeing where I was from a different perspective from the one that I usually find myself in. I noticed the greens of the trees, the songs of birds, the needle covered logs, the intricacies of sound, the pain in my feet. Things we get used to ignoring. I found my mind wandering to the simple. Where I wished to be. My life is really easy, at least for now. I have people thinking for me, which makes it harder to find myself after all is quiet, smoldering. There's a bad metaphor in there.
Well, anyway my glasses and my small computer makes my hands look even bigger and veiny as I type in the darkness on the verge of instant sleep.
Sitting here wondering about all of this makes me feel that I'm not in the right place. Be it physically or mentally. I am certainly somewhere, regardless. Too bad the somewhere is a place that I need to get out of as soon as possible. It's almost an addiction. Terrible and soothing. Mindless. I suppose that's the problem. I have nowhere to think. No time to remember me. No time for my mind to wander beyond the next twenty-four hours. My feet move constantly, but that's only life proving to me that it still exists and it's happening all the time.
The past two weeks often found me seeing where I was from a different perspective from the one that I usually find myself in. I noticed the greens of the trees, the songs of birds, the needle covered logs, the intricacies of sound, the pain in my feet. Things we get used to ignoring. I found my mind wandering to the simple. Where I wished to be. My life is really easy, at least for now. I have people thinking for me, which makes it harder to find myself after all is quiet, smoldering. There's a bad metaphor in there.
Well, anyway my glasses and my small computer makes my hands look even bigger and veiny as I type in the darkness on the verge of instant sleep.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Fot it
As of late I have been reading books that are well outside of my areas of study and I have therefore been exposed to new concepts and ideas that to a lot of people are quite elementary. But they really excite me. How giddy am I! Most of the ideas I have been exposed to are within the realms of physics, in which I have no background at all. These new ideas have gotten me thinking a lot about the universe and how things work and how those things came into existence.
The Heisenberg uncertainty principle of quantum mechanics says that the motion of a particle cannot be predicted with absolute certainty, and that much that happens in the universe is random (this statement is pretty much verbatim from Victor J. Stenger's God: The Failed Hypothesis). As I said a lot of this physics stuff is new but I feel I can trust scholars who write books to give me a good overview of these concepts. Being a novice I may be buying into some weird propaganda pushed by the authors but I feel with their credentials and their constant citing of sources that they are not bullshitting too badly. That aside, back to the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. One of the few things I have investigated in this field are the works of Heisenberg and Bohr. I first found out about them after seeing the made for television version of the play Copenhagen which is a semi-fictional account of Heisenberg, Bohr, and Bohr's wife. What really fascinates me with this principle is the idea of randomness. I like the idea that if the universe were to start over again that things would probably be completely different. How awesome! This theory/fact/idea/concept explains so much so easily. It also makes me feel good, good about everything. I find it freeing, oddly liberating. Stenger uses it to disprove god, or God, or gods, or Gods. But it can be used for so many different things. I feel that I am moving beyond even questioning if there is a god or anything that we would consider “supernatural”. Every point and counterpoint that I have read leads me to the conclusion that there is probably no such thing as the supernatural and therefore nothing but the universe controlling the universe. That said, because of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle nothing in and of itself is controlling the universe. The universe is not controlled. It contains processes that as far as we know are universal per say, and seem to follow several “laws”. How cool is that? The constant in the universe is change. That said, not all things change. Atoms are always atoms, but may constitute different matter. The speed of light in a vacuum is always what it is. That isn't to say that there isn't a process that contradicts these constants, but with the information and technology that we have we have no reason to think otherwise.
I think I am infatuated with science. I know exactly why. Science is good at explaining things that happen. But, and a big BUT, it is (or should) always willing to be proven otherwise. As we say in archaeology (a so called soft science), we take what we find and observe, and from the data we give the best possible answer we can at that time. That is not to say we cannot be refuted or our findings reinterpreted in the future, but that (hopefully) we are doing our best with the information we have from which we can derive the best possible explanation. It is my hope as a scientist that I will always be open to being proven wrong. I think that is the best quality of a rational human being as well as any scientist trying to find the illusive thing we call the truth.
So how does randomness make me feel good? What it does is just further support what I already think about my own life. I do not have to do anything. There is nothing dictating what it is that I do. I am lucky to be alive. I choose what I want to do or not do. But because of culture and the rise of complex societies I have to stay within certain boundaries to enjoy my life. Randomness also makes me laugh at homo sapiens sapiens even more than I already do. I do not deny that in the context of this planet we are special, because we certainly are. We are the first animals (as far as we know) to develop a super sense of self and what is often defined a consciousness. That specialness aside, it is funny to see our evolution as random. There is no scientific reason for our existence. We are purposeless and meaningless within the universal context. At this I chuckle (can't you just hear it?). That is so liberating! Or at least it should be, but again culture and our specialness gets in the way. We're lucky to be here, but think of it not as in your personal situation, but in the sense that we are lucky that the universe has come together in a way that allows us to evolve and to the extent we have! It's so basic, it's wonderful. And I'm sure that's why people have a hard time coming to grips with the fact that there may be nothing more to humans than exactly what we see. We might just be naked apes with oversized sex organs know as brains. And then, and then! When you look at the essence of every process we can examine none of them require any property or intervention by en entity or substance we cannot account for. Dark matter may be an exception, but even that I starting to become less dark.
Why are we here? Are we alone in the universe? Is life worth living? Who cares? I seem to care less and less. I feel that it is not why I am here, but what I do while I am here. I figure if I can't make this world a better place, I might as well try to not make it worse. As a scientist I have to as why question all the time, and that makes sense. But why am I here? is not one of them, and I think that makes sense. That is what religion does, and them fucks everything else up in the process. I think people fear science because it doesn't quantify morality. It has no opinion one way or another. It simply presents its findings and allows one to interpret those findings. A friend of mine with whom I have these sorts of discussions with at least once a month calls science a religion and that one day the spiritual world and the scientific world will become one. Nope. Not as long as no spiritual being is needed to complete a process. The comparison is not a “same book different page” argument as much as it is a “different book different oceans”. The fact that one can explain the other with evidence that is tangible but not vise-versa is the closest one can get to trumping the other. And unlike religion or spirituality, science isn't (or shouldn't be) 100%. One should always be at the most 99%. Religion is often 100%. I really don't want to discuss religion because I want to be over it. But I never will be.
Randomness! Yes, randomness. It's just cool. I can't really describe how it makes me feel. Humbled I think. Though any of my friends would laugh at me self-labeling to such an extent. I think that when one comes to conclusions that make life a little simpler(?) it is easier to deal with other things that one has to deal with. Worries become easier to deal with when not feeling an obligation to the intangible or unbelievable. I feel that I can focus on myself as a person and my interaction with others. That may be the thing I am wost at, or have the least experience with. I have decided to change who I am, constantly. Though not sea changes so much as little pieces of me that I know need work. I feel that I am more myself than I have been in a while. I'm ok with the universe, it's the world that kills me.
Nothing has to be. There is no inevitable. Not in the human realm anyway. The sun will always come up, the moon will always wax and wain, until the earth finally fizzles away, which is hope is a beautiful moment. The sun will expand, swallow the earth, the moon and all of the planets. Then there'll be little left of what humans have done. Our legacy will be the billions of waves we have sent off into space that may someday be heard, or interpreted by something that is nothing like us. Or they will just go on forever, chasing the edge of the universe into deep time where there may be things we can never know, and may be better for it.
The Heisenberg uncertainty principle of quantum mechanics says that the motion of a particle cannot be predicted with absolute certainty, and that much that happens in the universe is random (this statement is pretty much verbatim from Victor J. Stenger's God: The Failed Hypothesis). As I said a lot of this physics stuff is new but I feel I can trust scholars who write books to give me a good overview of these concepts. Being a novice I may be buying into some weird propaganda pushed by the authors but I feel with their credentials and their constant citing of sources that they are not bullshitting too badly. That aside, back to the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. One of the few things I have investigated in this field are the works of Heisenberg and Bohr. I first found out about them after seeing the made for television version of the play Copenhagen which is a semi-fictional account of Heisenberg, Bohr, and Bohr's wife. What really fascinates me with this principle is the idea of randomness. I like the idea that if the universe were to start over again that things would probably be completely different. How awesome! This theory/fact/idea/concept explains so much so easily. It also makes me feel good, good about everything. I find it freeing, oddly liberating. Stenger uses it to disprove god, or God, or gods, or Gods. But it can be used for so many different things. I feel that I am moving beyond even questioning if there is a god or anything that we would consider “supernatural”. Every point and counterpoint that I have read leads me to the conclusion that there is probably no such thing as the supernatural and therefore nothing but the universe controlling the universe. That said, because of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle nothing in and of itself is controlling the universe. The universe is not controlled. It contains processes that as far as we know are universal per say, and seem to follow several “laws”. How cool is that? The constant in the universe is change. That said, not all things change. Atoms are always atoms, but may constitute different matter. The speed of light in a vacuum is always what it is. That isn't to say that there isn't a process that contradicts these constants, but with the information and technology that we have we have no reason to think otherwise.
I think I am infatuated with science. I know exactly why. Science is good at explaining things that happen. But, and a big BUT, it is (or should) always willing to be proven otherwise. As we say in archaeology (a so called soft science), we take what we find and observe, and from the data we give the best possible answer we can at that time. That is not to say we cannot be refuted or our findings reinterpreted in the future, but that (hopefully) we are doing our best with the information we have from which we can derive the best possible explanation. It is my hope as a scientist that I will always be open to being proven wrong. I think that is the best quality of a rational human being as well as any scientist trying to find the illusive thing we call the truth.
So how does randomness make me feel good? What it does is just further support what I already think about my own life. I do not have to do anything. There is nothing dictating what it is that I do. I am lucky to be alive. I choose what I want to do or not do. But because of culture and the rise of complex societies I have to stay within certain boundaries to enjoy my life. Randomness also makes me laugh at homo sapiens sapiens even more than I already do. I do not deny that in the context of this planet we are special, because we certainly are. We are the first animals (as far as we know) to develop a super sense of self and what is often defined a consciousness. That specialness aside, it is funny to see our evolution as random. There is no scientific reason for our existence. We are purposeless and meaningless within the universal context. At this I chuckle (can't you just hear it?). That is so liberating! Or at least it should be, but again culture and our specialness gets in the way. We're lucky to be here, but think of it not as in your personal situation, but in the sense that we are lucky that the universe has come together in a way that allows us to evolve and to the extent we have! It's so basic, it's wonderful. And I'm sure that's why people have a hard time coming to grips with the fact that there may be nothing more to humans than exactly what we see. We might just be naked apes with oversized sex organs know as brains. And then, and then! When you look at the essence of every process we can examine none of them require any property or intervention by en entity or substance we cannot account for. Dark matter may be an exception, but even that I starting to become less dark.
Why are we here? Are we alone in the universe? Is life worth living? Who cares? I seem to care less and less. I feel that it is not why I am here, but what I do while I am here. I figure if I can't make this world a better place, I might as well try to not make it worse. As a scientist I have to as why question all the time, and that makes sense. But why am I here? is not one of them, and I think that makes sense. That is what religion does, and them fucks everything else up in the process. I think people fear science because it doesn't quantify morality. It has no opinion one way or another. It simply presents its findings and allows one to interpret those findings. A friend of mine with whom I have these sorts of discussions with at least once a month calls science a religion and that one day the spiritual world and the scientific world will become one. Nope. Not as long as no spiritual being is needed to complete a process. The comparison is not a “same book different page” argument as much as it is a “different book different oceans”. The fact that one can explain the other with evidence that is tangible but not vise-versa is the closest one can get to trumping the other. And unlike religion or spirituality, science isn't (or shouldn't be) 100%. One should always be at the most 99%. Religion is often 100%. I really don't want to discuss religion because I want to be over it. But I never will be.
Randomness! Yes, randomness. It's just cool. I can't really describe how it makes me feel. Humbled I think. Though any of my friends would laugh at me self-labeling to such an extent. I think that when one comes to conclusions that make life a little simpler(?) it is easier to deal with other things that one has to deal with. Worries become easier to deal with when not feeling an obligation to the intangible or unbelievable. I feel that I can focus on myself as a person and my interaction with others. That may be the thing I am wost at, or have the least experience with. I have decided to change who I am, constantly. Though not sea changes so much as little pieces of me that I know need work. I feel that I am more myself than I have been in a while. I'm ok with the universe, it's the world that kills me.
Nothing has to be. There is no inevitable. Not in the human realm anyway. The sun will always come up, the moon will always wax and wain, until the earth finally fizzles away, which is hope is a beautiful moment. The sun will expand, swallow the earth, the moon and all of the planets. Then there'll be little left of what humans have done. Our legacy will be the billions of waves we have sent off into space that may someday be heard, or interpreted by something that is nothing like us. Or they will just go on forever, chasing the edge of the universe into deep time where there may be things we can never know, and may be better for it.
Friday, April 10, 2009
As of late I have been reading a lot of non-fiction science-based books. Lots of things to learn from very smart people who are involved in very different fields than mine. They have prompted me to have many thoughts and ideas of things to write about. One thing I find interesting is how one of the authors I have been reading a lot of often quotes literature and poetry in his works. This may be because of him being British where much of the greatest English writing has come from. I'm speaking of Richard Dawkins, but that is somewhat irrelevant. What I have been thinking of lately is the separation between science and the arts.
My first passions were both artistic. I have never been able to draw or paint or do anything of the sort. That lead me inadvertently towards music and writing. I have had music my whole life. Singing, bell choir, bassoon, bass, drums, guitar, mandolin, banjo, piano. That list is more or less chronological. I have always sung and to this day I sing all the time. I was even caught singing to myself in a very social context he other day which I found quite amusing. It is such a part of my life that I don't think about it. I also play drums a lot too. Well, with my hands on my thighs or my chest. I move my feet and toes to the beats that are only in my head. Not sure where they come from but they're there. I suppose all this music in my head is the result of listening to lots of music and combining ideas which manifest themselves in my foot tapping and humming. Besides writing and playing music I have had words on my side for a long time too. I have never found it difficult to write. It is very easy for me to get my point across in whatever context I find myself writing in. Though I do have a problem with longwindedness. I started writing stories and whatnot as soon as I could write. I won a few prizes for my writing but never did great in english classes. When I discovered poetry around age 11 my life changed. I realized that I didn't have to write in some organized fashion with punctuation. Then when I started reading Bukowski, Ginsberg, and the like everything changed. I began to be able to put down how I saw the world down on paper through abstraction. No rhyming or meter. What came out was in form and in word exactly how I felt and how I wanted to present the material, which was my mind on paper. Up through high school I knew all I wanted to do was write and play music. I often assumed that I would be a musicologist (history of musical origins) or some sort of writer. Well, that didn't work out did it? I discovered something amazing, science.
Science class during my primary education years was a pretty subject for me. Everything made sense. I really liked the scientific method and how scientists came to conclusions. Science was presented to me during those days in such basic terms that it was easy to accept and I never thought much of it. Only that I believed everything about the universe and about biology and the like. Science was never boring to me. That said I always went back to music. Orchestra was more than a class. Pretty much all of my friends were there or in band. We had a ton of fun, which I attribute mostly to my high school orchestras teacher. In us she cultivated a need to expand our musical horizons and look beyond what was on the sheet music or beyond our posture and technique. She encouraged us to listen to blues and rock music, jazz and bluegrass, funk and of course classical. She introduced us to the subversive nature of music which of course sparked many of our interests (i.e. Shostakovich). I credit her for my variant taste in music. Music became a refuge, as did the music wing of the school that was nonetheless entirely separate from the rest of the school.
I can't say I really discovered actual science until my senior year in high school. That year I went to the local technical college instead of going to my high school. My guidance counselor thought it would be best if I did that. It changed my life. That first semester I took four classes. One was philosophy in which I did poorly because I realized how absurd it all was. The one that changed everything was one that I knew nothing about, absolutely nothing, anthropology. That one class eight years ago has gotten me where I am today, for better or worse. It was then where I discovered science for real. We discussed cultural, physical, and archaeological anthropology. I was enthralled. It didn't hurt that the teacher was one of the funniest and best instructors I have ever had. Before my tenure was done at the tech school I had taken all of the anthropology courses they offered. Throughout that time I was still writing music and prose. I was in a few different hardcore bands and was heavily into metal and folk music. I was an odd one. That lead me eventually to Montana for school which then lead me to Arizona for the same. All the while I have been writing music and words. As always. This is my point I suppose. There is no reason for the arts and science to be exclusive.
There are people in both fields who see the other in an unflattering light. Artsy folks see science as removing the mystery and beauty from life, while scientists see artists as delusional fluffs obsessed with the abstract world of feelings. Thankfully there are folks who are both and can appreciate both. I think it is fun that I can play music and write songs while on an archaeological field trip. I think it is great that I can appreciate opera and a finely tuned chainsaw. I really enjoy the fact that my life transcends different parts of the (western) human experience. I can laugh at fart jokes and also have discussions on archaeological theory, often on he same day. And thank goodness. Both sides of my life can take themselves too seriously. I always like watching a friend of mine play music because of how he holds himself. He often plays very somber songs (dirges, ha!) and after he is done there is a nice bit of clapping then he lets out some hilarious comment or anecdote. Brilliance!
I like science because in it we are trying to prove ourselves wrong, more or less. I like music because we need to prove nothing. Unfortunately in both there are folks who don't believe that. Scientists who feel they cannot in anyway be wrong and musicians who spend more time trying to look good or trying to have perfect, logic defying technique and tone.
These two parts of my life balance me. When I come across an amazing archaeological site I often feel as I do when playing a song that I really like. Joy in a different place. I hope that in the future more people can be both drawn and participate in the arts and science. As Richard Dawkins and the late Carl Sagan have said, there is no reason why science cannot have as many artists as religion has had over the centuries. I hope that I am one, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life.
My first passions were both artistic. I have never been able to draw or paint or do anything of the sort. That lead me inadvertently towards music and writing. I have had music my whole life. Singing, bell choir, bassoon, bass, drums, guitar, mandolin, banjo, piano. That list is more or less chronological. I have always sung and to this day I sing all the time. I was even caught singing to myself in a very social context he other day which I found quite amusing. It is such a part of my life that I don't think about it. I also play drums a lot too. Well, with my hands on my thighs or my chest. I move my feet and toes to the beats that are only in my head. Not sure where they come from but they're there. I suppose all this music in my head is the result of listening to lots of music and combining ideas which manifest themselves in my foot tapping and humming. Besides writing and playing music I have had words on my side for a long time too. I have never found it difficult to write. It is very easy for me to get my point across in whatever context I find myself writing in. Though I do have a problem with longwindedness. I started writing stories and whatnot as soon as I could write. I won a few prizes for my writing but never did great in english classes. When I discovered poetry around age 11 my life changed. I realized that I didn't have to write in some organized fashion with punctuation. Then when I started reading Bukowski, Ginsberg, and the like everything changed. I began to be able to put down how I saw the world down on paper through abstraction. No rhyming or meter. What came out was in form and in word exactly how I felt and how I wanted to present the material, which was my mind on paper. Up through high school I knew all I wanted to do was write and play music. I often assumed that I would be a musicologist (history of musical origins) or some sort of writer. Well, that didn't work out did it? I discovered something amazing, science.
Science class during my primary education years was a pretty subject for me. Everything made sense. I really liked the scientific method and how scientists came to conclusions. Science was presented to me during those days in such basic terms that it was easy to accept and I never thought much of it. Only that I believed everything about the universe and about biology and the like. Science was never boring to me. That said I always went back to music. Orchestra was more than a class. Pretty much all of my friends were there or in band. We had a ton of fun, which I attribute mostly to my high school orchestras teacher. In us she cultivated a need to expand our musical horizons and look beyond what was on the sheet music or beyond our posture and technique. She encouraged us to listen to blues and rock music, jazz and bluegrass, funk and of course classical. She introduced us to the subversive nature of music which of course sparked many of our interests (i.e. Shostakovich). I credit her for my variant taste in music. Music became a refuge, as did the music wing of the school that was nonetheless entirely separate from the rest of the school.
I can't say I really discovered actual science until my senior year in high school. That year I went to the local technical college instead of going to my high school. My guidance counselor thought it would be best if I did that. It changed my life. That first semester I took four classes. One was philosophy in which I did poorly because I realized how absurd it all was. The one that changed everything was one that I knew nothing about, absolutely nothing, anthropology. That one class eight years ago has gotten me where I am today, for better or worse. It was then where I discovered science for real. We discussed cultural, physical, and archaeological anthropology. I was enthralled. It didn't hurt that the teacher was one of the funniest and best instructors I have ever had. Before my tenure was done at the tech school I had taken all of the anthropology courses they offered. Throughout that time I was still writing music and prose. I was in a few different hardcore bands and was heavily into metal and folk music. I was an odd one. That lead me eventually to Montana for school which then lead me to Arizona for the same. All the while I have been writing music and words. As always. This is my point I suppose. There is no reason for the arts and science to be exclusive.
There are people in both fields who see the other in an unflattering light. Artsy folks see science as removing the mystery and beauty from life, while scientists see artists as delusional fluffs obsessed with the abstract world of feelings. Thankfully there are folks who are both and can appreciate both. I think it is fun that I can play music and write songs while on an archaeological field trip. I think it is great that I can appreciate opera and a finely tuned chainsaw. I really enjoy the fact that my life transcends different parts of the (western) human experience. I can laugh at fart jokes and also have discussions on archaeological theory, often on he same day. And thank goodness. Both sides of my life can take themselves too seriously. I always like watching a friend of mine play music because of how he holds himself. He often plays very somber songs (dirges, ha!) and after he is done there is a nice bit of clapping then he lets out some hilarious comment or anecdote. Brilliance!
I like science because in it we are trying to prove ourselves wrong, more or less. I like music because we need to prove nothing. Unfortunately in both there are folks who don't believe that. Scientists who feel they cannot in anyway be wrong and musicians who spend more time trying to look good or trying to have perfect, logic defying technique and tone.
These two parts of my life balance me. When I come across an amazing archaeological site I often feel as I do when playing a song that I really like. Joy in a different place. I hope that in the future more people can be both drawn and participate in the arts and science. As Richard Dawkins and the late Carl Sagan have said, there is no reason why science cannot have as many artists as religion has had over the centuries. I hope that I am one, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life.
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