Wednesday, December 19, 2012

The We Are What We Are Theory


Are we an original or are we a copy? Perhaps we are here, perhaps we are not. The world might exist, and then again, it might not. 

If our essence is controlled by a separate physical entity - such as a soul, a program, an energetic pattern, or a child - we're then like a wind-up toy promenading down the streets of Paris in ordered precision despite the chaotic collection of molecules that make up our surroundings. 


Or if you'd rather, we could be nothing more than our memories and ability to reflect upon ourselves (Locke); or we are our outsides, our faces and haircuts, our dark or blonde hair. We are the stuff of appearances. We are young or old, man or woman, adult or child, Asian or Caucasian. 

We are unique, just like everyone else. 

You know, let's just forget this nonsense and say that we are an illusion. We are a bundle of impressions but there's no underlining self existence (Hume). There's no Zombie invasion to survive because there's no Zombies, either. 


Now that I think about it, we could be dead. We could be the walking dead and just not know it. We could be in Heaven or in Hell, whichever we attract; or, for minimalists, we could just "be".

BE

That last one works for me. The We Are What We Are Theory or the more popular "We be all dat!" 



And this is what all dat sounds like:


Thinking about it, each of these views has its own implications about whether or not one should care. I mean really, don't we have better things over which to concern ourselves? 

As far as I'm concerned, we're either here or not here. For me, there is no there. There is here. So, this is home. This is Earth. This is Heaven. This is Hell. This is some point in a galaxy. This is an illusion. 

Would the Grand Illusionist please stand up and take a bow:



Whatever life theory you're going with, enjoy it. Have fun with it. Marvel at its features, consider its design, allow yourself to truly consider it. Then, if you like, swap for another theory, and repeat. 


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