I love science and I always have.
You love science, you say? NO. You do not love science the way I do. Science is my friend, my confidante, the other woman. She's not all there is, but she's most of it. I bask in her glory at every opportunity.
Well, I suppose maybe you do like science if you decided to read a post with the above title. Science is free, she does not belong to anyone and I like it that way.
If I had my way several hours out of the day would be dedicated to Science and her more enigmatic twin, Math. But I have not yet achieved the discipline or freedom from worrying about basic needs to peek under her dress and see the naked truth. I like art, too. I think art is where culture comes from. It's what elevates us to human beings.
But science is super human. We can extend our mind and thoughts beyond the veil of the apparent and obvious and glean truths that would be impossible to guess otherwise. A systematic method of thinking that sheds light into the darkness obviating ignorance and bad thinking and leaving clear and correct paths in its wake.
But it's not all sunshine and roses.
There's usually ethical problems. And every time science answers a question it asks 100 more. There's no end to the pursuit of a sensible universe. Not for human beings, at least.
Sometime within our lifetimes, things are gonna start gettin' crazy. I plan on being a crotchety old man of 120 but still looking about the same as I'll look 5 years from now, complaining about how the super augmented net bots have taken over everything and how in my day yada-yada-yada more character, yada, worked harder.
I mean, of course we worked harder. Things will suck significantly less in the future, which implies less toil which implies less work that isn't meaningful. Grocery shopping? Yeah, my drone does that for me. I think a list of shit and he brings it to me along with a double shot cappuccino extra foam. Which I will then spit in his face and say is not good enough so that I feel superior.
Then when the robots take over I can at least think: "Well I, for one, had this coming," as I sit back and watch the world end.
But who cares if the world ends? It's always fucking ending. Then it starts again and no one notices and everything is fine. As fine as it can be, anyway.
Until commercial home drones become available I'm gonna need that double capp, though. Any volunteers? I can't really afford to pay you in any way, but I can promise I won't spit it in your face if you get it wrong.
And isn't that really what matters?
Maybe not.
But hey, it never hurts to ask. Well, I guess except for when it does. Hmm. These thoughts have not untangled themselves at all in this short time.
This calls for more caffeine.
Source: 1