Scrambled Brains and Post

The more you know, the less you think you do.

Epistemological(arguable if this word exists) adventures are so painful. They are of course pretentious and seemingly contrived but uncomfortable nonetheless. What is it to know? Can you every truly know anything? Is the struggle to know purer and greater than the comfort in ignorance? If yes, why? These questions seem easy to dismiss don’t they? I mean they serve little practical purpose, can’t withstand the strong disinterest of society and reek of a lifestyle devoid of action, active only in thought. What do such thoughts and questions contribute to society but a pessimism and dilution of purpose? So unproductive in nature, these can’t be characteristic of successful people? But then when they question the very metrics of success can those units be used to measure the man who believes in them?

There is always more to know than you can possibly imagine. Knowledge is so alluring for its extent is unknown. One can of course measure the what is collectively known as quantifiable human knowing. All the theories, processes and documented pieces of accepted wisdom. That it self shall be more than considerable but in the big scheme of things not exactly infinite. Add to this all the ideas, thoughts, unexpressed theories of all the minds that have ever walked and crawled and taken breath on this earth. That adds to the volume, perhaps n times. After this comes the unknown, the inexplicable which has not been yet thought about for it has not been experienced or seen or observed yet. That not knowing is what makes knowledge interesting. If the pleasure was only in the possession of facts then what difference would it make if you had them or anyone else did, who was willing to trade them for your own? Then what is known and recognized as such, is it even knowledge? Or is it a collection of facts, beliefs and ideas where knowing them is a question of exposure. Understanding them might be a question of intellect which arguably can be acquired by experience and with the right inclination.

The true essence of a theory whether in anthropology or particle physics is so esoteric only because to understand it you need so many other dependencies. Like to run a code in Object Oriented Programming you need to have all the right libraries which reference the objects used so casually in it. (this analogy it self is dependent on some basic exposure to OOPs) The more the number of dependent libraries you need to understand a concept the more obscure and seemingly high brow it seems. Realizing all this presents another dilemma, what are the kind of things one must choose to learn? Should they be the pressing questions of today’s society? Of civilization over all or ones which spring from personal curiosity? The last one is perhaps the best choice and the overall perceived nobility associated with the pursuit of knowledge renders it purely acceptable. The ones that trouble today’s society are of course the ones that can be monetized or used to solve our greatest problems.

It is the ones that face our civilization that posses an eerie sense of vagueness and lack of structure. They are daunting as people have broken their heads over them for as long as we define the range of time. We know not whether they can be answered or are they merely here to remain as the visible if unattainable goals defining humanities attempts at research and learning. Why is living important? What is it to live? What is to know and how is it better than not knowing? These have no definite answers and will probably not have time and situation independent ones ever.

All these thoughts seem to occupy a dark alley of my mind continuously , where my brain is being slapped around and it occasionally lets out loud squeals which deviates me from other things. But then perhaps this is healthy and the previous state of purely goal driven living was not. Perhaps it is good to abuse your brain as if it were a highly enthusiastic and demanding client at a recreational facility at Amsterdam and you were a sadistic dominatrix with all the leather paraphernalia, bent on inflicting pain to maximize the client’s pleasure. What is odd here is that the dominator and the dominated are both parts of the same entity, i.e my mind. So this exercise seems rather (for the want of a better word), masturbatory.


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