I attribute my lack of blog posts to a hectic work schedule. Also, fitful dream-haunted slumber that makes me feel as if I hadn’t had a wink of sleep. And an orgy of temporal activities that only serve to occupy the moment. Only check back once a fortnight or so; link to friends’ blogs and see what they’ve bee- I mean to KPO (verb) – at the same time view any comments.
Been close to 3 months since I entered the working world; mine is a design role in a small branding and advertising firm on top of some supplementary part-time work. When I do have a minute or two, catching up with friends in the very few moments that are interspersed, too sparsely if you ask me, in the daily mundane repetitive monotonous (forgive me for repeatedly repeating myself again one more time), mundane repetitive and monotonous life of an adult drone in the working society.
Thanks, Sandy, for the timely prompting. And to an anonymous viewer who brought up the age-old question that has befuddled all the great minds of our time, and ever so often, come back to haunt every individual who has an IQ greater than a chimpanzee.
Yes, yes. It’s been running through my mind lately. Just haven’t got the time to put it down on paper.
Perhaps I’ve been procrastinating. Perhaps. I’ll think about it tomorrow. The truth is, I prefer to write light-hearted entries contraire to my outlook on life, rather than tackle reality, which has, only recently, albeit brutally, dawned on me, at age twenty-two.
What is the meaning of life?
Frankly, dear reader, if I would be so bold to proclaim – I have the answer in the last paragraph of this post, but let’s follow the ‘normal’ train of thought (of any self-claiming ‘intelligent’ but in fact very stupid and stubborn, human being).
IMHO (in my humble opinio– I mean – imho (without capslock on, brings out the more humble vibe, dontcha think?), I am the last person you should listen to, or engage in a discussion with, with regards to the meaning of life. After all, I’m still young (being self-delusional here, haha), and have not had half the life experiences of my parents – much less my grandparents. You know how they used to say, “Listen to our advice; we’ve eaten more salt than you have rice.” True, no doubt, but I attribute that to the noodles and pastas we eat nowadays... haha. On top of that, my well-meaning parents, I don’t see any dishes today made without a pinch of salt (watching western cooking shows you learn that a pinch is, in actual fact, a handful).
Besides that, you ought not to take the views of someone who signs off every post as ‘The Sophisticated Amoeba-dude’ too seriously. I mean, how complex and opinionative can a single-celled organism be? A protoplasmic jelly the size of a pinhead. A dollop of primeval, pond-dwelling goop.
Undeterred? Read on.
Posed the question to Chaihuat, whose msn nickname at the time read - “Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all.” He commented that this question would, most of the time, be asked by people who were unhappy with the situation around them. And would, in despair, disgust or frustration – or all three of the above – force that question upon themselves and anyone who would listen.
At some time or other, we have experienced a sense of helplessness wash over us. When we feel we have no control over our lives. When fate has thrown us a poor lot. When things don’t go our way and we just feel like wallowing in self-pity. When all the pent up stress, disappointment and frustration with ourselves or/and others finally reaches breaking point, that unanswerable question escapes our lips.
Ever felt that way? Yes?
No surprise there. We’re all human – each small and insignificant. 9 billion people inhabit the Earth. We are literally lost in the sea of humanity. Stuck on the only inhabitable planet in the universe with no control over our destiny. Helpless to the whims of fate.
At this point, if any of you readers are having suicidal sentiments, please stop reading. I would also like to take this time to say that I, Kevin, NRIC
Moving on…
As I often do when reading difficult novels, I typed in the word in question into an online dictionary. To my chagrin, Dictionary.com produced no less than 36 results – 25 nouns, 3 adjectives and 8 idioms – from the word ‘life’.
Wikipedia states that there is no universal definition of life – there are only a variety of definitions proposed by different scientists. I daresay nobody in the present and far into the future can take an unequivocal stand on the meaning of life.
Scientifically speaking, life is, to put it very bluntly, the condition that distinguishes organisms from inanimate objects.
Religiously speaking, life is but a brief existence during which choices made will determine your position in eternity.
Recklessly speaking, life is a brief existence during which one should enjoy to the fullest, and disregard the consequences, be it worldly or eternal.
Romantically speaking, your life, every breath, every moment, every penny (for the gents) belongs to that special someone.
Matrimonial-ly speaking, your life is OVER.
Sigh... we still haven't answered the question...
Once again, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE?
Why are we here?
No, friend, it’s not for Changi Village Nasi Lemak. Nor is it for Katong Laksa, Bedok Ba-chor-mee, or Thai Green Curry.
What is the origin of life?
Did you think we evolved from primates? No matter how wizened and wrinkled your great-grandparents look, do you think we are in any way related to Orang Utans? Your personal hygiene regime (or lack of it) may have you scratching yourself furiously everywhere you go, but that's no reason to assume a simian origin. I apologise for picking on monkeys all the time, but the idea is ludicrous! Monkeys? Chimpanzees? My friend... you're going bananas! If only you could hear yourself… “We came from monkeys!” Ooh. Aah. Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.
Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, eh? I have a theory on Darwin. My Theory is that DARWIN WAS ADOPTED.
When did life originate?
During the BIG BANG?
Can the countless, minute (no pun intended) pieces of a Patek Philippe (a watch, duh), when placed in a box and shaken, through the eons, each and every part fall into its place by chance and assemble itself to create a beautiful, elegant, perfectly functioning timepiece? Fools. Even then, where would the battery come from? ;P
Did the Universe, more beautiful than a Pathetik Philippe by far, by some infinitesimally small sliver of fortune, come about in a gargantuan, chance explosion? If you bought this concept, you are inadvertently admitting that you are a fluke. A freak of nature. No, no, I didn’t mean you, Jeric. HONEST.
What is our purpose?
Is it simply to recreate and procreate? To aspire, transpire, then expire? What a meaningless existence.
Come to think of it, Chaihuat also mentioned that our purpose in life is to have a purpose in life. Kind of ambiguous, if you ask me. I guess what he means is that we have to find our own meaning in life.
Along the way, you might stumble upon the little-black-leather-bound best-selling-book-of-all-time that holds the answer to this question as well as every other important question you might ask during your brief stint on Earth. I’m not trying to preach to you. I have yet to practise what I (don’t) preach.
The thing is, I was trying to avoid this topic. I mean, there’s so many things I haven’t experienced in life. Someone just had to set me thinking. Worse – request for it to be put down in black and white.
Rats.
Thanks for making me dwell on negative thoughts. Cheerio.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Saving the World... 1 Life at a time!
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