Mr. Brown Can Mu, Can You?

It is a curious thing this drive to create. Why is it that we Humans feel compelled to bring order and structure and meaning into the universe? Why do we rage against entropy? What is the source?

Ken Wilber would probably say that it is the pull of Spirit (capital S) acting on the universe of spirit (small s) pulling creativity into the world. I'm not really sure if that's an answer or just giving a name to something. Of course Ken Wilber would probably also explain that I'm not really evolved enough to understand this force of Spirit (capital S) and so of course it doesn't make any sense to me. I can't see it. He might even be right. Such is the unanswerable nature of such a statement.

Why all the questions? Does it really matter? Perhaps not. But sitting in the dark of our living room with the lights out and staring at the light cast on the walls by the street lamps outside, I was struck by an urge to write something, to be creative in some form, but I didn't really have much inspiration for what to write about. As a result I've yet again returned to the subject of writing as a subject.

Such self-reflexive text seems rather postmodern. Perhaps postmodernism was just a massive case of collective writers block. (Probably not, but it makes a for a briefly amusing idea. Very brief.)

Of course, it is possible to look at this urge in a much less flattering light. Perhaps it's just the blind pathetic panic reaction to an utterly heartless and slowly disintegrating universe that is completely and utterly indifferent to our lives. Perhaps this drive to create (and indeed procreate) is just our way of fighting off the madness of the
Total Perspective Vortex. (Brilliant man Douglas Adams. Marvelous observations buried in absurd humor and Sci-Fi so you don't notice how stinging they really are. Still, there is a rather distinctive flavor of the broken-hearted romantic in his writing.)

That's the second time today my blogging has led me back to Douglas Adams. I was going to comment in my last post that we really were rather like those telepathic aliens described in the Hitchhiker's Guide, but I couldn't remember their names. (Still can't for that matter.) I did a little Googling for it, but while everyone loves the quote that humans need to talk or their brains start working, nobody seemed to be interested in continuing the quote to the follow-up discussion. I could figure it out by digging out the DVD from the TV series that I recorded off of BBC2 last year, but that would require turning on the lights and I don't want to risk waking Laz up.

Anyway, back to philosophy... I seem to be at the crossroads of Existentialism and Zen. Is God dead? or just waiting inside for me to wake up and notice I am He. (It... She... sigh... pronouns.) Unfortunately, the sages seem to agree that the only answers come from deep contemplation of mu or some such, and frankly such contemplation doesn't seem to be compatible with my lifestyle at the moment. Certainly I can't see listing the contemplation of mu on my CV as likely to land me a job. And the family is pretty needy at the moment as well. Plus Torchwood is showing. Who can contemplate mu when John Barrowman is on the tele? (OK, well that last one does seem a little on the trivial side.)