Two Pints of Guinness

I’m fascinated with time and space and the endlessness of both.  It surprises me that more people aren’t or aren’t constantly aware that no matter how human history may fluctuate, Jupiter won’t pause on its constant journey around the sun. I’m trying to uncover in my own head whether or not this fascination with the expanse is scientific or nihilistic. Is the nihilism just an extension of materialism, being an absence of spiritualism, or is it just the logical extension of logical existentialism? If that makes any sense at all.

Full disclosure, I’m on the crest of tipsy and these thoughts only seem to come to me after that second pint of Guinness. It’s a shame I don’t think about these things at any other time other than under these particular circumstances, similarly with the rest of the human population. The good thoughts, the thoughts that truly matter, only seem to come to us when we are elevated from our usual closed off selves. The classic British stiff upper lip doesn’t help with that but it makes any form of cerebral separation that more  sensual. Which in turn, makes our ability to talk out of our arses all that easier.

Say for example, the Cuban Missile Crisis went in another direction where the boats kept on moving and the hands of the Doomsday Clock kept on turning. Would the universe stop to weep? The answer is no it wouldn’t; not even our own Sagittarius A, at the centre of the Milky Way, would stop eating like black holes do, for even a moment to mourn our little species.

I remember the first time I thought about things like this, I was fifteen which perhaps is when most people look to those twinkling things in the night sky and think only one thing: ‘Holy fucking shit.’ I felt like perhaps I was alone in how I responded being trying to connect those dots in the sky with the texts to hand being that good old King James Bible. Much to the dismay of my partner in science class, which was when I thought would be a good time to explore these ideas, I came to strange conclusion. The name Israel, as random as it seems, is not a name at all but a question through time in plain English. The only time I remember it is of course, after these delightful pints of bitter.

Is Ra, El?

Two Pints of Guinness

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