Ohmygod! It worked! (I love you, Firefox.) Elliott Plumb

advertisement
Ohmygod! It worked! (I love you, Firefox.)
Elliott Plumb
True, but not Obvious
Truth Paper
We live in an infinite cosmos. I assert that
this statement is neither true nor false. In a cosmic
sense of infiniteness, all things are infinite. A truly
infinite system is not just infinite in it’s size,
mass, timeframe, density, scope, range of
possibilities, and complexity of design. It is also
infinite in all other descriptive terms. It is
infinitely infinite. It is everything, every non-thing,
nothing, and everything else. It is a concept (having
no definable physical presence) in which we live in and
interact with through thought and action. This, I take
to be a fundamental truth to hold at the very core of
my being.
An interesting side effect of this belief
system is that it can neither be proven nor disproved
(something common to virtually all belief systems), but
since it incorporates its own flaws as being part of
it, it is completely untrue in addition to being true.
And some would argue completely meaningless, but from
my own perspective (as it is currently the only one I
can exist in) it feels somehow pertinent.
But I would say that it is nearly impossible to
explain this concept in a way that invites
understanding except possibly this: There are
absolutely no absolutes.
Take the action of showing a book to several
very different people and getting their responses. An
English major may describe the book as “The Complete
Works of William Shakespeare,” a series of plays that
describe the great human drama. A German factory worker
may say, “Das ist ein Buch.” A philosophy student may
say, “This is a series of ideas manifested by the mind
of an English playwright and converted to a printed
medium for ease of communication.” A physics professor
could call it a collection of atoms and electromagnetic
forces that comprise a “book.” (“Book” being the
laymen’s term for this complex concept.) A semantic
sociologist might say it was a collection of pages
bound together and written upon so as to abstractly
reflect the cultural mindset of the particular
Elizabethan author who wrote it.
But don’t stop there (I know it’s long. Please
bear with me.) A redneck may call it a doorstop. A Kung
Fu master may call it a potential weapon. A stoner may
call it a portable rolling table. A conspiracy nut
might call it a pistol stash. And a cat might not call
it anything, but will simply ignore it as being nothing
more than part of the scenery. But does what you call
it or how you use it change what it is, or does it have
an unerring and constant conceptual form?
I say it is all and none of those things,
because definition of truth (as with anything else) is
totally subjective and relative. This is not to say
that there is no such thing as absolute truth, for just
like the example of the book, in this material plane in
which we exist together the things that we see remain
the same; it’s only in how we view and name them. So
communication partially defines truth. It is only when
we can get into two different peoples heads and
telepathically communicate the concepts behind defining
things that we will see exactly how mutable and
subjective truth is. As long as we have to rely on
something as inaccurate as anything other than thoughtto-thought communication, we may only speculate as to
the true nature of truth.
Even something thought to be so basic as good
and evil is subjective. Killing is wrong, but killing a
killer to prevent killing is seen as good. Hitler did
wonderful things for the German economy. Jesus incited
mass rebellion and inspired bloody religious wars.
Premature death is considered a terrible thing, but who
are we to say that a dying infant is not going to the
great beyond at his specified time. (Or if there even
is a specified time of someone’s death. If something
happens, and you hold fate as being even somewhat true,
than whatever happens is obviously supposed to happen,
and vice versa; or else it would have gone some other
way. But there is no other way for our specific
consciousness, because we exist in linear time . . . at
least I do.)
However, regardless of what you call evil, and
how you see evil, isn’t it still in the observer’s
mind, evil? Is that concept absolute and, in fact, just
seen differently? Is what I call truth what you call
truth? Do our ideals of this abstract concept of truth
hold as the same internal thing regardless of where and
how we see truth, conceptualize truth, and speak truth?
So where is one to make the distinction? Just
how subjective is truth, and where is the line drawn
between an absolute concept seen subjectively and a
subjective concept? I pose that it is impossible to
tell absolutely.
A convincing argument can be made either way,
but it is up to the individual to believe it. And a
concept as basic as truth is something cannot just be
given to someone; it must be experienced.
Are hallucinations true? Are emotions true? Is
love true? Is quantum theory? (If I can’t understand a
mathematical proof or see the link between theory and
experiment, why should I take that as true?) Is pure
fiction, in some parallel universe, coincidentally
true? How can we know?
But more importantly, why should we care? Based
on the apparent subjectivity of truth, and the
intuitive infiniteness of the cosmos, there is no
reason to. Make your own distinctions and be pleased to
live in a system that we cannot possibly understand
entirely. Regardless of how much of a genius you, I, or
Einstien may be, the only thing that you can do is
better understand things from your own personal
perspective, and make your own judgments on the
veracity of personal truths masquerading as universal
ones.
And the great thing about free will is that you
and I can have totally opposite and contradicting
viewpoints of truth, and we still see those viewpoints
as truth. Making them the same thing! Nonsense!
Absolute and utter fucking nonsense!
That’s what the universe is all about.
Download