XYZ
Recently, I made the acquaintance of one with a highly musical cognomen. That one hypothesized a situation which led me to think of an old Isaac Asimov ditty that you can find somewhere (hopefully) deeply buried inside here.
It also revived an old thought of mine: if I had to live with me, I would hate it. I wonder why, though. I started by looking at my weaknesses. Egotism is something I've been accused of often, and if it were the entire problem, it would explain why I wouldn't be able to live with myself in a literal sense. The opposite could technically be true; if I were self-loathing enough, I wouldn't be able to do it either. But I'm not.
Wrath is another failing of mine. Thankfully it is much reduced these days. I suppose the idea of getting into serious arguments with myself has a terrible lustre to it, but not one that remains attractive except as the plot of some murder mystery novel.
That still leaves space for a few variants. In at least one, it's a female variant of me. I shudder. I wouldn't wish that fate on myself, although one of my dearest old friends once wished I had a female version (yes, shudder, shudder) stashed away somewhere. In other variants, the clone grows up different. Could a constructive relationship emerge?
I suspect that if there were two or more of me, it would be horrifying for many people. I think that I'm a one-off, that (as another old friend says) God broke the mould when He made me (and the reasons for that are ambiguous to humans). But He does make us all different, so that doesn't say much. Can you imagine three of me? Twelve of me? 256 of me?
What would it be like?
It also revived an old thought of mine: if I had to live with me, I would hate it. I wonder why, though. I started by looking at my weaknesses. Egotism is something I've been accused of often, and if it were the entire problem, it would explain why I wouldn't be able to live with myself in a literal sense. The opposite could technically be true; if I were self-loathing enough, I wouldn't be able to do it either. But I'm not.
Wrath is another failing of mine. Thankfully it is much reduced these days. I suppose the idea of getting into serious arguments with myself has a terrible lustre to it, but not one that remains attractive except as the plot of some murder mystery novel.
That still leaves space for a few variants. In at least one, it's a female variant of me. I shudder. I wouldn't wish that fate on myself, although one of my dearest old friends once wished I had a female version (yes, shudder, shudder) stashed away somewhere. In other variants, the clone grows up different. Could a constructive relationship emerge?
I suspect that if there were two or more of me, it would be horrifying for many people. I think that I'm a one-off, that (as another old friend says) God broke the mould when He made me (and the reasons for that are ambiguous to humans). But He does make us all different, so that doesn't say much. Can you imagine three of me? Twelve of me? 256 of me?
What would it be like?
Labels: Reflection
etched with acid at 12:07:00 am
1 Comments:
thanks i already saw the link on your blog. i like the electron transport chain one. :)
Post a Comment
<< Home