What if our grand theories of regeneration, of recycling, of reuse or rebirth are nothing but childhood etchings on driftwood? What if every child is yet another nail in the coffin?
What if life itself is entropy? And not a willing one - simply a more efficient entropy than the exhaustion of stars or the repelling of galaxies. What if we are simply a cycle of energy depletion - nothing different than enriched uranium - a bright storehouse of energy that can release itself more quickly than by conventional methods?
What if we are actually the atomic bombs of the universe? Life itself, that vaunted, aggrandized, and eulogized thing that we all cling to - with the desperation of one sub atomic particle to another - is the actualization of energy depletion.
What if life is the quickest way to die?
Life, euthenasia for the universe.
It was a thought that came up tonight, from a conversation. It is a thought that comes up often in those `shotgun hours'.
And where does that leave all of us.
And where does that leave those of us who think.
And where does that leave those of us who do.
And where does that leave those of us who believe that our lives somehow add energy to the universe.
And what if the second law of thermodynamics is wrong.
Maybe it is not a closed system. And maybe there are energy inputs that we don't know about. And maybe our physics still doesn't really understand physics. Not like there really exists an `our physics'. Or even an `our science' for that matter.
We still reside in a cave. In Plato's cave - where only the aristocracy are lead to see the light, at least the light of social order, but none, or at least only the pliant are lead to see the light of so-called reason, because the light of so-called reason and aristocracy are one in the same when encountered from that exit of that cave. It is only aristocracy who believe in entropy.
Though I must confess, it is only humanists that understand a finite planet.
Spelunking... New caves. New ways. New orders. The subversion of the common wisdom, the aristocratic wisdom. An idea of life without growth. Maybe an emphasis on time, not space.
It might save us from entropy.