Musing 4: On Humanity (wherein I philosophize inconclusively)

We, as humans, are a bizarre species. We exist and indulge in excess. We assign values to things that are valueless, assign meaning to the meaningless, assign ownership to everything. We possess the gift (curse?) of higher thought, and of self-awareness. I know I exist. Cogito ergo sum. I know who I (my mind/the producer of these thoughts) am, and I’m pretty sure I know what I am, where I am, and when I am. But there’s an issue with the what, the where, and the when: all those things exist as human constructs.

I write this post while lying on a structure composed of plastic, fabric, springs and other things, commonly referred to as a mattress. But who decided that it should be a mattress? Who decided that the springs inside should be springs? Some human did. But there is not inherent “mattressness” to a mattress. If humans ceased to exist, so, too, would the concept of a mattress.

I’m currently on the island of Martha’s Vineyard. But why should it be designated as Martha’s Vineyard? Because the explorer who discovered the island had a soft spot for his daughter. Because he was a human, who had a deep care for another human. And so, to this day, more than 300 407 years later, we call this island by that name. But if we stopped existing, this would no longer be Martha’s Vineyard. It wouldn’t even be an island. It would just be. We are the only species on this planet that consciously surveys a tract of land surrounded by water and decides, “this is an island”. We are the only species on this planet that points to something with defined characteristics and says “I call this ______, and it is mine. Now how the fuck can I monetize it?”

The point I’m trying to make here is simply this: it’s all meaningless. We are narcissistic as a species, believing ourselves to somehow be inherently special because we are more, apparently, intelligent than the other species that inhabit this planet. But why does this mean we’re special? Why is this even a good thing? Would the universe blink if we disappeared? No, it would just continue. We seek something bigger than us, but it seems to me we’re just material; just cold, hard matter. We desire the existence of a soul or something, because people want to feel like more than what is contained in their physical body. This bears itself out: when I stay up for a long time and my body just keeps going, I’m impressed with my body; when people do drugs, they can basically go deep inside their brain, losing touch with their body and the external. So it seems like there is something immaterial inside the body. But this is just the brain; the self (as it exists) is located in the brain; the rest of the body interacts with the brain, but that’s where each persons self, each persons concept of an immaterial soul, resides.

This whole thought process was sparked by, as so many things are, something typically sexual: boobs. I was looking at a clothed pair and reflected on what they are (not biologically, but descriptively): squishy roundish lumps with a nub on the end. Relatively unremarkable. And yet, the male mind mind of a person attracted to females (fuck heteronormativity!) is trained to be aroused by looking at them and touching them. But why? There’s nothing inherently attractive about them, because there is nothing inherently attractive. They are mounds of flesh, but a huge, huge deal is made over them. It just makes me wonder why we are the way we are. I mean, yes, I know, evolution (speaking of which, check out: Press The Start), but it just seems sort of silly to me that we are conditioned to care about something that, when looked at abstractly, isn’t anything special. But then, I suppose there is not that much, when looked at abstractly enough, that still seems special.

I don’t really know if this post got to where I wanted it to go. It just is very interesting to me that we have all these values, and we assign so much meaning to things, when they’re really all arbitrary. We view ourselves (Homo sapiens sapiens) as something of importance in the grand scheme of things, but in the end, it seems to me, there is no grand scheme of things, so we really don’t matter.

I should say, before I end this, that I love life, I love people, I generally have a favorable view of the potential of the human species, and I’m not convinced one way or another on the question of God. I just wonder a lot, and this post is evidence of where that wondering sometimes leads.