January 1, 2012•677 words
Nature constantly taunts us. Every human is fighting a war within. But had it not been for this perpetual inner war, then humans would not be what they are today. This system constantly challenges us, forcing us to despise the actions of today for the promise of tomorrow; forces us to be discontent. It challenges us — you’re not working hard enough, not eating well enough, your new design not genius enough, you’re too fat, too skinny, you need to study harder; it’s a master trash talker. But imagine had it not been for this system. Imagine had nature spoiled us with lavish compliments for every of our actions. Then what need for improvement would there be? The chimps and primates are perfectly happy with the one tool they’ve managed to create. Nature pampers them with wonderful compliments about their ingenious designs, yet alas the chimp has not been able to progress like the man has. Our every tool becomes outdated the second it is completed; that wonderful thought we had yesterday that seemed to make life instantly ethereal has deserted us today, and we are left looking for another promise of joy, and this forever onward. It is curious that the man has so much,— the airplanes and telepathic communication devices, electricity and inner climate control, refrigerators and fire at the press of a button; but yet we are not content. It this system alone, however, that is responsible for our continual progression.
The man will never be content. This is by design, not coincidence. That thing, that one thing on our minds today, that if we acquire we believe will result in a perfect life, shall tomorrow arrive, but our eyes will be focused on a new task by then. It seems not to carry that same luster that it carried in our minds yesterday. Alas Emerson, it is the thought that is much sweeter than reality. The thought is our fuel, the thought is wonderful and creative. We are creative beings after all. The man is a masterful story teller. Our mind draws a complete canvas and fills in any pieces, even ones that are missing. The mind personifies this world, for the world is rather empty and dull. If humanity can be characterized by one thing, it would their ability to tell stories. Everything has come from stories.
There is an algorithm at play here. We believe the only difficulty in life is finding a way to achieve the relatively trivial task on our minds, but behind the scenes, our bodies are working tirelessly to make us interact with the earth around us. Blood is pumping, lungs contracting, heart beating endlessly, a war of cells erupting within, billions of neural networks connecting to make sense of the world around us. And all without a single conscious effort from us. Our emotions are chemicals mixing. The rewards we earn, the feeling we get when we accomplish something: those are controlled chemicals in our body. The algorithm controls when those chemicals are released. Everything is precise and calculated.
The system is the computer, and the humans are the hackers, the engineers. Take a round pill manufactured in a lab and the substances within are altered. Dopamine is the chemical that our body releases to give us a sense of accomplishment, to reward and give us positive reinforcement. Take a small dosage of a certain white powder, and the chemicals are released instantly, and a sudden sense of accomplishment rushes within. Whatever designed this system wants us to keep going; has put in place systems to motivate us to keep going; has put in place systems to challenge us, to stimulate us; to practically control us. Alas we have little to do with the flow of this algorithm. No man has been able to penetrate its secret. We are looking from within; we will always be a part of this algorithm, and for us to fully comprehend it would mean we were above this algorithm, looking from without rather than from within,— and that’s just undefined.