Do you ever sit around and wonder what the meaning of life is? Yeah, me neither. Now, I do occassionally try to figure out what the meaning of my life might possible be. But, it's usually not when I'm "sitting around".
For the record, I'm pretty sure that, all guilt and humor aside, there is no meaning to my life. I'm okay with this. In fact, I think I might be disturbed to find out that there was a meaning to my life. I guess I kind of view the whole raison d'être thing as a bit too much like fate or at the very least, fatalistic. I mean, it would be all fine and dandy if you knew the meaning of your life was to party like it's nineteen-ninety-nine and die happy. But, what if you found out that the meaning of your life was too explore the depths of human suffering, both your own and what you would cause to practically everyone you came into contact with? It would totally suck, right?
I guess that I kind of view this whole meaning of life business a bit like religion, allbeit a bit more towards the deus ex machina end of the spectrum. In fact, the meaning of life seems a lot like the god in the mechanism.
I could go on ad nauseum about this, but I'll spare you, kind reader. Just because I don't think there is any menaing of (my) life, doesn't mean I don't think there is meaning in life. Let's see how quickly I contradict my earlier statements trying to explain my way out of this one... Our interpersonal relations give meaning to actions, they give us a context to function in and decide if something makes us happy or sad or neither, or maybe hungry. But, Eric, is there a sum of meaning that one could call the meaning of their life? Absolutely, probably, maybe not.
What do I know? I'm just some guy who doesn't think there is any meaning to (his) life, and who claims to find comfort in that. Well at least I'm explainning this idea ad absurdum, which is a way to prove to myself that I'm not as clear a communicator as I need to be to get these ideas across.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
The 'eyes' have it - take 4
I was just sittig around the other day and thinking, "man, it's been a long time since anyone has cut into one of my eyeballs - at least a year." We can't have that, now cane we?
Having had my fill of Pars Plana Vitrectomies for the time being, I thought I would branch out for the next surgery. This time I thought I would give cataract surgery a try and see how it feels to have someone cutting into my eye while I'm awake and fully conscious.
Cataract surgery sounds so much more benign, doesn't it? Well, it is a bit less invasive, I'll give you that. Cataract surgery entails a surgeon cutting into my eye over the lens which will then be broken up with ultrasound and sucked out with a little vacuum so that they can fit a new, artificial lens in my eye. Fhew! Is that all?
I was hoping the surgery could have been done on the Christmas holiday, since two of the last three Christmases saw me having eye surgery, I was hoping to put this best-of-five series away this year. But, no such luck and I'm settling for recovering over my birthday, which is, I guess, the next best thing.
Having had my fill of Pars Plana Vitrectomies for the time being, I thought I would branch out for the next surgery. This time I thought I would give cataract surgery a try and see how it feels to have someone cutting into my eye while I'm awake and fully conscious.
Cataract surgery sounds so much more benign, doesn't it? Well, it is a bit less invasive, I'll give you that. Cataract surgery entails a surgeon cutting into my eye over the lens which will then be broken up with ultrasound and sucked out with a little vacuum so that they can fit a new, artificial lens in my eye. Fhew! Is that all?
I was hoping the surgery could have been done on the Christmas holiday, since two of the last three Christmases saw me having eye surgery, I was hoping to put this best-of-five series away this year. But, no such luck and I'm settling for recovering over my birthday, which is, I guess, the next best thing.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Winter Whimsy
The snow has fallen, not to mention the temperature, and I find myself unable to focus on anything related to school or even writing for that matter. It's like I've regressed tot the age of twelve and snow this close to Christmas is just too much to handle in my little brain.
It's a bit different for our cats. They seem a bit miffed about the whole snow thing. It really cramps their style, so to speak. It has lead to two hyper cats, that is when they're sleeping. This combination of distracted Eric and hyper cats has lead to some interesting conversations where I try to reason with the furry little beasts that if it was cold and snowy twenty minutes ago, it is still that way now. They pretend to not understand what I'm saying. But, I'm not as a complete an idiot as they take me to be. I know they understand the tone of my voice, including sarcasm. Why else would they roll their eyes at me so much?
I guess the solution is to get all bundled up, throw the cats out into the white stuff and then chase them around and throw snowballs at them. Of course, it's nice and warm in the apartment and this chair is pretty comfy...
It's a bit different for our cats. They seem a bit miffed about the whole snow thing. It really cramps their style, so to speak. It has lead to two hyper cats, that is when they're sleeping. This combination of distracted Eric and hyper cats has lead to some interesting conversations where I try to reason with the furry little beasts that if it was cold and snowy twenty minutes ago, it is still that way now. They pretend to not understand what I'm saying. But, I'm not as a complete an idiot as they take me to be. I know they understand the tone of my voice, including sarcasm. Why else would they roll their eyes at me so much?
I guess the solution is to get all bundled up, throw the cats out into the white stuff and then chase them around and throw snowballs at them. Of course, it's nice and warm in the apartment and this chair is pretty comfy...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Television ate my Soul
Kill your television before it eats your soul. Seriously.
I spend a significant portion of my week with geeks and nerds in training. They start off each class telling whomever will listen that they didn't have enough time get whatever it was that they were supposed to do done. The conversation generally moves to boasting about how high a level their character is in the game-of-the-week (which is World of Warcraft). They may or may not stop briefly in the topic of which comic book is being made into a movie. They never discuss the merits or detriments of such projects or of movies that have already come out, but they sure will (mis)quote a lot of dialogue from the films. Inevitably, the conversation winds up on the television shows watched by one and all, well almost all as I am not really up to their level. I've made it clear that I watch three shows which equals four hours of programming per week, and none of it on an actual television. Any viewing above and beyond this comes from Netflix, as there are so many movies and so little time. Without fail I am asked day in and day out if I've seen show X or Y or Z. I haven't, nor will I, as apparently everyone I know is incapable of discussing a show apart from regurgitating events that happened - especially when they are trying to convince me to watch a show. Hmm, let's see, it's a suspenseful show to which you've just told me the twist ending; odds are I'm not going to freaking watch it. Okay, 'freaking' is not my first word choice.
As inevitable as ruining a media format for me, the topic turns to who watches the least amount of programming. It is always the biggest nerd/geek in the room who claims to watch the least amount of television, you know, except for the two hour-long dramedy, investeality shows, and the news, oh and don't forget Letterman, and since they're up they watch Conan; but seriously that's all the television they watch, oh unless you count what they stream to their computers which doesn't really count because they're reading their emails on the commercial breaks.
I'm pretty addicted to the shows I watch, so I understand how one could slip away into the nether regions and blow four or five hours a day. But, I guess I'm also on the path to recovery if I can admit how much I watch and understand the trade-offs of time spent watching television programs versus everything else life has to offer.
As you look up at me sitting on my high-horse, you're probably wondering what I think the geeks and nerds in training should be doing with their time. The obvious answer is reading for class and oh, I don't know, maybe their homework. Or instead of talking about how someday they are going to ... oh never mind. They're not listening anyways, as I'm sure the commercial break is over and they've forgotten that I'm still here.
I spend a significant portion of my week with geeks and nerds in training. They start off each class telling whomever will listen that they didn't have enough time get whatever it was that they were supposed to do done. The conversation generally moves to boasting about how high a level their character is in the game-of-the-week (which is World of Warcraft). They may or may not stop briefly in the topic of which comic book is being made into a movie. They never discuss the merits or detriments of such projects or of movies that have already come out, but they sure will (mis)quote a lot of dialogue from the films. Inevitably, the conversation winds up on the television shows watched by one and all, well almost all as I am not really up to their level. I've made it clear that I watch three shows which equals four hours of programming per week, and none of it on an actual television. Any viewing above and beyond this comes from Netflix, as there are so many movies and so little time. Without fail I am asked day in and day out if I've seen show X or Y or Z. I haven't, nor will I, as apparently everyone I know is incapable of discussing a show apart from regurgitating events that happened - especially when they are trying to convince me to watch a show. Hmm, let's see, it's a suspenseful show to which you've just told me the twist ending; odds are I'm not going to freaking watch it. Okay, 'freaking' is not my first word choice.
As inevitable as ruining a media format for me, the topic turns to who watches the least amount of programming. It is always the biggest nerd/geek in the room who claims to watch the least amount of television, you know, except for the two hour-long dramedy, investeality shows, and the news, oh and don't forget Letterman, and since they're up they watch Conan; but seriously that's all the television they watch, oh unless you count what they stream to their computers which doesn't really count because they're reading their emails on the commercial breaks.
I'm pretty addicted to the shows I watch, so I understand how one could slip away into the nether regions and blow four or five hours a day. But, I guess I'm also on the path to recovery if I can admit how much I watch and understand the trade-offs of time spent watching television programs versus everything else life has to offer.
As you look up at me sitting on my high-horse, you're probably wondering what I think the geeks and nerds in training should be doing with their time. The obvious answer is reading for class and oh, I don't know, maybe their homework. Or instead of talking about how someday they are going to ... oh never mind. They're not listening anyways, as I'm sure the commercial break is over and they've forgotten that I'm still here.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Holding my Breath
I learned just about three years ago that I shouldn't hold my breath. Like the rest of you humans, holding my breath makes the pressure in my eyes increase and as we all know, high pressure is bad. If it wasn't bad, it would just be called 'pressure'. Or maybe it would be called 'relaxing'.
I actively try to avoid holding my breath. I've cut out my long under water swims, nixed seeing how red I can make my face and given up holding my breath at red lights.
Today I was out for an invigorating constitutional and was required to hold my breath twice, which as you can imagine ticked me off just a little bit. The first time was due to a groundskeeper mowing the lawn at an apartment complex I was walking by. His mower was gas-powered and was chugging out black smoke as he walked behind the mower pushing on towards even more carbon monoxide production. It turns out I dislike carbon monoxide even more than I dislike holding my breath so I took a deep breath and marched past, holding the air in until I was two-thirds of the way so that I could slowly exhale the last bit and minimize holding my breath. The second time holding my breath came about 10 blocks later as I walked near a coffee cart with a car at the window waiting on their double shot tall skim something. This was the only car I saw while I was out today that exhaust of any color coming from it's tail pipe. So, once again I took the breath, did the walk and began exhaling just as I passed behind the mobile carbon mnoxide factory.
Thank goodness my eyes didn't pop!
I hope that in about 42 days a certain President of the U.S. with the initials, Barack Obama, will take another look at national emission standards. Well, I'll be happy if he has one of his employees do it. What's Al Gore doing these days?
I actively try to avoid holding my breath. I've cut out my long under water swims, nixed seeing how red I can make my face and given up holding my breath at red lights.
Today I was out for an invigorating constitutional and was required to hold my breath twice, which as you can imagine ticked me off just a little bit. The first time was due to a groundskeeper mowing the lawn at an apartment complex I was walking by. His mower was gas-powered and was chugging out black smoke as he walked behind the mower pushing on towards even more carbon monoxide production. It turns out I dislike carbon monoxide even more than I dislike holding my breath so I took a deep breath and marched past, holding the air in until I was two-thirds of the way so that I could slowly exhale the last bit and minimize holding my breath. The second time holding my breath came about 10 blocks later as I walked near a coffee cart with a car at the window waiting on their double shot tall skim something. This was the only car I saw while I was out today that exhaust of any color coming from it's tail pipe. So, once again I took the breath, did the walk and began exhaling just as I passed behind the mobile carbon mnoxide factory.
Thank goodness my eyes didn't pop!
I hope that in about 42 days a certain President of the U.S. with the initials, Barack Obama, will take another look at national emission standards. Well, I'll be happy if he has one of his employees do it. What's Al Gore doing these days?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)