Meaningless Existence

Today’s brief reflection on the state of humanity is brought to you by a feeling of overwhelming futility and an acute awareness of the pointless, vacuous and utterly narcissistic bullshit that consumes us all. Finding ourselves inhabiting whichever time and place we transiently occupy, and encountering the limiting cognitive language and behavioural repertoire of a consensus orthodoxy we foolishly assume to be quite natural and normative, there is nothing else to do but keep shovelling fuel on the fire of information and existence that is civilisation’s natural heir.

Having each and all of for the most part been born with astonishing neural plasticity and plausibly infinite potential of imagination and creativity, we find ourselves constrained and contained by an existential obligation – not to explore the unbounded horizons beyond our words and world – but to acquire, refine and cultivate an eloquence in the limited conceptual vocabularies of our era. Vocabularies that, it must be said, do little more than reproduce themselves and symbolically self-validate as a function of this effectively recursive self-propagation.

At some level we feel the meaninglessness of it all. Perhaps that is why we are driven to engorge ourselves on superficiality, gossip and transient material or symbolic artefacts. Faced with the eternal futility of a child-like humanity burdened without direction, hope or salvation – we turn inwards and there, finding only the self-same uncertainty and doubt that troubles us from beyond – seek to mask it in yet more meaningless bullshit and futility.

I am kind of losing whatever little hope I once had in or for humanity. Someone, anyone, please prove me wrong.

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