Showing posts with label Camus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Camus. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 July 2012

Hope Tomorrow

I think that in between the adenine, guanine, thymine and cytosine, hope is sequenced into our DNA. It seems we always have the ability to hope for a better tomorrow, to hope for what we cannot possess today, to hope for what we could not achieve in the past.

True, what we hope for changes just as our circumstances do, but there always remains a little something, an esprit de corps that continues rooting when nothing else remains. Perhaps I am wrong and too privileged to have experienced the loss of hope.

No. Even the dying, the disillusioned, the sick and old and suffering, even those in the abyss will cling to "these last strands of man in me". Hopkins writes in Poem 64 (Carrion Comfort)

"I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be. "

I don't know when one would give up hope. If I understood L'Étranger right, all life is senseless, and there is nothing after death. When one accepts this fact, one has two options: kill yourself, right then and there, because essentially life is pointless. Or, alternatively, rage, fight, squeeeeeeze as much life from yours as you can, since we are confined to earth for a specific time and before and after there is nothing. Our souls aren't eternal, just as our bodies aren't - better make the best of the here and now. Better to hope for the best in the here and now?

When I originally wrote this post, I liked this idea of living for the moment. But now I wonder if it is not just some hippie cliché. Sure, make the most of your day and make a point of enjoying your life. I mean, I used to think that as soon as I leave here my life will start. As soon as I am done procrastinating, I will achieve something more meaningful, more important to the world. However, one must plan ahead, pay bills and buy food and spend nights watching brain-dead television series. Not every day is an adventure, not every damn day is filled to the brim with experiences that you will treasure forever. 


I agree with an existentialist worldview because I never had a very strong faith in a godly power. Life and death happen, if there is and afterlife I'll see how it goes then. Perhaps our potential for hope is really the thing that makes us take action in the everyday: we hope for something and we (mostly) know what choices to make in order to get there. 





Tuesday, 5 April 2011

iLife

Sometimes I wish there was an iLife app and I were an iPhone and the application would run my world for me. It would calculate the best possible outcome of every situation, every encounter, every friendship, every relationship, every decision I would ever have to face.

It would be the ideal Life ( iLife, get it?! I feel so smart right now).

But then again, if everything is ideal, it is mediocre. There is nothing special. Everyone lives. Happily?Unhappily? No, it would be a median of joy across the board. I am moderately happy. I am content.

If you had the choice of living in a constant state of contentment for the rest of your life, or live like Sisyphus, pushing the boulder up the hill only to see it rolling down again, what would you choose?

In  "The Myth of Sisyphus", Camus asked the question that if one acknowledges how futile life actually is, should one commit suicide right then and there, because after all you have no influence over it, or accept its absurdity and push that boulder around forever.

This reminds me of the part in Olive Schreiner's "Story of an African Farm", where the hunter has fleeting sighting of the bird Truth, and spends the rest of his life searching for it, leaving the Valley of Superstition (I think it was, could be wrong here) to find it. And only when he is taking his final breaths, only after much suffering, does one feather from Truth fall on his chest.

Initially I thought, what a stupid story, but is rather beautiful.
You can get it for mahala here.

So forget the iLife app. Stupid me. Stupid idea.
Suffer people! Suffer in order to appreciate true moments of happiness in between the mediocrity of the everyday, and suffer to be able to say later on that you have truly lived.



Oh joke of the day : what is green and blue and hates gingers?



The world.

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