randomimity and really bad poetry
It’s a really long, slow day. Spending time with JP is fun, but taxing, since neither of us generate a whole lot of humor, it’s not as fun as it should be. After cleaning out a lawnmotor motor for a go-cart type vehicle we’re going to fabricate, I made the unfortunate discovery that we don’t have all the parts we need to reassemble it. A foray behind Ace Hardware of Waxhaw proved profitable, though, as we acquired several tires and another motor, hopefully in running condition. We were both too tired/tired of one another to investigate further, though, so we both turned in for the day. My stomach is still full from the pot of yellow rice. I eat a lot of rice. I wonder if that says anything about my ancestry, if it’s a genetic penchant. I doubt it.
If I were a stone or a planet, would I be intimately aware of gravity? Our scope as humans is so limited; we can only comment with any hint of authority on those laws of the universe with which we have a direct affiliation, those that affect us. We can speak about our motivations, tendencies, and ideals because we feel their influence on a daily basis. We can only comment about the outward actions of other entities, rocks, animals, molecules. Perhaps they have some other motivation besides that which excites the physical world; perhaps that is what dooms any attempt to utilize science to derive a “theory of everything.” It’s plausible… We cannot understand their motivations because we are not them. We can only understand what is common to man, whose emotions and motivations go so far beyond the simple mechanics of the universe; it would arrogant of us to assume that the forces which govern the remainder of the universe can be understood through observation, the same arrogance that it would be to imply that another person can be understood and predicted simply through observation of his actions. Which isn’t to suggest that rocks might have feelings, and yet… As C. S. Lewis (who I am paraphrasing) put it, there is a tacit law written in the human heart decribing how we ought to behave, influencing us… Why shouldn’t there be another force influencing the stars, unobservable but nonetheless present?
If wishes were pigeons my mind would be an opal cameo.
Goodnight.
Good morning, love.
I’m glad to see you’re enjoying the book. It does make one think.
I love you.
~Erin