The Unbearable Tiredness of Being

There are some days when you are far too tired to do work that unfortunately has to be done. This means that you ignore the blandishments of the warm bed on the cold rainy day, steel your spirit, and plunge (dispiritedly) into the morass of the task.

Then you work. You type out your fragmented thoughts, the pieces of stuff that have to be stuffing in the great turkey of a job that you're doing. Everything sounds unlikely, badly put together, a stitched-up thing.

If you're lucky, you may end up with a work of unconscious genius and you can praise God from Whom all blessings flow; it is obvious that you can't be praising yourself, nor the random workings of the universe.

If you're not, well, you end up having done necessary work that looks somewhat like it should have been a blog post. At least you can take heart that if the universe is deterministic, you had no choice. And of course, if it isn't, then it's just too bad.

Bloghunt

Not too long ago, one of my female colleagues told me that one of the blogs linked on this blog was a fatal mistake. I had no idea what she was talking about. I still have no idea. So I am open to suggestions. I have not deleted any of the links here (well, not for the last year or maybe more, I don't keep track of such things). Why don't you, loyal readers (especially those who read this before 6 AM local time, wow), have a good look and tell me which ones you think are fatal visions, daggers of the mind?

Truth (Short Version)

The truth is that we have to believe such a thing exists. To believe that there is no such thing as absolute truth may not exactly be the assertion of such a truth, but it's close. In fact, our every action compels us, on reflection, to believe that absolute facts of existence underpin our universe, but that we might not ever be able to know them all.

This faith in an absolute truth underpins the scientific revolution. We actually have no way to know that science is for real, or that reason remains constant. Every observation we make might be random, and yet seem to fit a model that appears rational. Two questions, if honestly answered, dispel the entire thin tissue of science.

1. Why must scientific laws exist?
2. What is the ratio of our observations to the total quantity of observations that can be made?

In the end, it all boils down to having crude and imperfect knowledge of our local universe, and being able to make predictions which work – without knowing why this must be so.

So why must truth exist? Because the truth is that either meaning exists or it does not. The existence of meaning requires a true architecture and a true architect; the absence of meaning means that nothing at all, including stoicism and other philosophies of rational acceptance, resignation or inevitability, should matter to us. In order to reason at all, we must have faith.

Pharaoh

And this is the story of the second plague which was sent upon the land of Egypt. And after each of these two plagues, first of blood and then of frogs, Pharaoh hardened his heart because he saw that there was an end to each plague.

There is a difference between determination and obduracy. To determine is to define a terminus, to set boundaries or fix conditions, to find the extent of something in exactitude; to show determination is to be definite about something. However 'obduracy' comes from the Latin root dura- which implies hardness as of solid wood: tough, inflexible and unyielding.

Sometimes, some people can be told that their ways lead to disaster. You can tell them about incremental vs revolutionary progress, you can tell them that attempting to hold the same old ground against the advent of chaos is like whistling in the dark. You can watch them fail, and continue to paper the cracks over; you can watch them suffer from lack of vision and purpose, and pretend to have insight and vitality; you can see them decline from fatigue of the imagination, of the will, of the heart; you can see them age, and replace fallen cohorts and legions with mercenary troops.

'Decline and fall' is an old theme. All kinds of institutions, including the Pax Romana and its greater descendant, the Pax Britannica, fall into ruin once they fail to stem the fissures of chaos, and invite the barbarians into the gates. Sometimes, the barbarians have learnt the lessons well, and might even return as teachers and masters. But the empire will not rise again, and although civilisation is never really lost, the vision of a better age turns into the irritatingly-forgotten dream of a bad night.

There are ten more plagues after the plague of frogs. When does Pharaoh learn? The answer never changes, sadly.