Coffee Cup Half Moons

The philosophical musings of a human specimen.
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Dream: Europa and extraterrestrial life

by Jeremy on May 22, 2010 at 8:15 am
Posted In: Dreams

So I have been enthralled lately with a revival–a jolt–of interest in our solar system (and the universe outside of earth) lately thanks to the [wiki]Wonders of the Solar System[/wiki] series recently airing on BBC (I watched it on YouTube of course).  This of course provides the setting for this dream I had last night.

The dream:

So somehow I found myself on [wiki]Europa[/wiki] with a group of people — a handful, but as yet I have no idea who any of them are.  The surface is sort of pebbly/rocky like a coarse beach, and very dry (Of course Europa is nothing like that, but this was my dream).  Our point?  To search for life on Europa.

I wandered around a bit, and noticed I was next to this concrete “base” … looking back I’m going to assume it was our ship.  We look and look, and suddenly I noticed my car parked next to it.  Careful examination illuminated a spider crawling near the fender well, so I said jovially ‘Well if there wasn’t life here before, there is now.’

Someone who was with me was standing over next to what seemed like a “woods line,” but I have no idea what it actually was, because it didn’t strike me that there was plant life already.  We continued to wander, and somehow ended up in a very grassy area.  Again, it did not occur to me that the grass was life!  We happened across this grave site/memorial with 9 tombs, with some kind of inscription on it.  I don’t think I could read it, but I somehow knew that it meant something to the effect of “in honor of the 9 fallen brave ones.” (or something like that.)

Who was in the tombs? Well it alternated from the [wiki]Farscape[/wiki] crew members to the [wiki]Firefly[/wiki] crew members, and it never was clear — space travellers of some sort. Firefly and Farscape like to work their way into my space dreams (go figure.)

So I continued looking around, and we found a temple.  My brother climbed partially up the side and found affirmative proof of insect life.  I stepped up as well, and on the louvres of a vent was an inchworm, which, looking back, is not an insect, but somehow I knew it was proof of Europan insects.  At any rate, right next to the inchworm were all kinds of ants.  They reminded me a lot of the cactus guys from Mario — like insects that walked upright, but of course their body parts swayed to and fro just like the cactus guys.

At this point, we were just blown away by our discovery, complete proof there was life on Europa, so we just kind of awed a bit, then wandered some more.  I know I emphatically decried something about how the only other celestial object humans ever walked on was the moon (Luna, Earth’s moon — mentioning only because Europa is, of course, also a moon).

I started to think, ok now I wonder when Jupiter is going to appear in the sky (seriously that would be awesome).  Lo and behold, I looked up, and there was this orangy-red object.  It was a dust cloud, and, at this point, I began to realize I was in a dream.  (You would think all the previous clues would have been sufficient.)  I realized Jupiter probably wouldn’t appear in the sky, but I still wanted it to, so my brain decided to put earth there.  I guess it figured it might as well f*k with me a little.

I saw right through that, however, and the earth’s image (which was quite large in the sky — at least 30 times the size our moon appears in our sky) burned away.  As it turns out, however, I was walking around and a tree got between me and the Earth in the sky, and the tree was burning.  Then we heard some craft making noise overhead, then saw it fly over, hover nearly directly above us, and start to descend.  (That’s it with the Earth-in-the-sky bit … no idea what that was all about.)

So this craft was a very large robot — probably 40ft tall, and personality-wise very transformer like, but its head was a large TV.  Apparently, the robot shot the tree?  It would appear as though it were an attack, but as it played out, it definitely wasn’t.  Who knows … this was Europa, and honestly, it was nothing like Europa, so anything goes.  😀

As the robot landed, one of our helper bots rolled over in front of it and started making this clicking noise — some kind of radar thing, and apparently its purpose was to either befriend the large robot or render it docile.  The robot kneeled down and kind of chuckled and kind of asked the little guy (to himself) ‘How did you?’ ‘We removed that programming millions of years ago …’ then the robot started to notice that there were unrecognized creatures there (our crew), and the little bot continued its clicking.

That is when I woke up … but I still heard the clicking.  One of our ceiling fans is off balance and makes this very regular sound.

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The Challenge ~ a poem

by Jeremy on April 26, 2010 at 9:05 pm
Posted In: Poetry

It was a challenge
To describe what I could not possibly have known
Profundity is a vice for the tattered soul
I stand here unscathed

So I abandoned the endeavor
And wandered alone
Through desert
Through rain
Vetoed disdain, vetoed pain

Somewhere something would exalt
Or justify my view
My marvelous journey
To unveil the profound

Yes! Indeed!
I could find the truths of a life well lived
I just have to find a hell to endure

But to stand on the podium
Is to admire
To win, is to achieve
Or at least to aspire

Oh proximity she taunts me.

And what I seek is what would promote me to seeker
So to what do I strive if I am not yet prepared

How do I tell the story when I stand still
My mind rots with the hope I digest

And the simplest task overwhelms.

Is there greatness in me?
There will be …
And when that day comes
All of us will see
It is already here, or it will never be.

└ Tags: challenge, desert, disdain, endeavor, greatness, marvelous journey, podium, poem, poems, Profundity, Soul, taunts, vice
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Dream: Me as John Crichton in a Firefly to Farscape … mashup?

by Jeremy on November 12, 2009 at 7:39 am
Posted In: Dreams

“There are those of us who persistently, stubbornly continue to peer out beyond the boundaries of this existence.  Not because we were born with a superior vantage point, but because we were born with the uncontrollable urge to sidle up to the wall, leap to where our hands barely grip the top, poke our nose over and revel in what we can perceive far beyond.  Nonetheless, this wall holding us in and, in this instance, allowing us to see is itself billions of times more complex than any tiny fraction of what else we will ever understand in our lifetime.”

This quote defines my struggle between the urge to boil down philosophy of existence, and discover the infinite truths that nature already possesses, and it came to me immediately after the following dream in which part of my psyche revealed itself to me in the character of John Crichton.  (The setting of this dream was a morph from Firefly to Farscape).

***********************************************************************

There were three of us — closely examining our hangar, garage — a large metal building that, although I did not recognize it, was familiar to me as our base.  The large door, although I now seem to think it may have been multiple doors, was open, and while two of us circled the perimeter of the building, Shepherd Book was examining tiny fragments of evidence near the roof line.  When I noticed what he was doing, I, too, took a closer look, as I could see there was something there causing him to pontificate.

I am not sure how we were examining these things, as the top of this building was at least fifteen or twenty feet high.  Again, it was a large metal structure that more resembled a garage than a base.  Regardless, what I saw upon closer examination were tiny “scratches” in the metal where something high-velocity had glanced off, causing the rusty surface of the old building to peel up, revealing the shiny metal underneath.

I looked more — on the inside of the building.  At this point, I became conscious of the fact that someone of our crew was missing, and we believed her to be stolen.  Although it was never really clear who it was, I had and still, while writing this, have the impression that it was Kaylee.

We examined closer, following the tiny trail of evidence inside the building, following the ceiling as we went toward a hanging apparatus that I’m pretty sure was the garage door opener.  Simple, but the sci-fi ambiance of this place failed to give me any reason to think that it was an object out of place or time.  Something opened the door, why not a motorized contraption that mounts to the ceiling?

Then suddenly, I noticed a slightly different “peeling of metal.”  This one was about the same size, but it was shinier, more rounded, and it became immediately clear to me that there was something embedded there — right in the motor of the door opener.  I could not tell right away what it was, but it appeared to be a round disc — actually, two round discs that were maybe pressed together — the top one smaller than the bottom.

I looked around more, and suddenly I knew exactly what these objects were.  I saw one embedded flat-ways in the ceiling, and the unmistakable lightly engraved writing of a Sony CR2032 battery came into focus.

Whatever ship had taken our crew member had been firing out Sony CR2032 batteries when it took off.  The strange thing is, of course, that the batteries themselves were incidental.  Nothing about them struck me as out of place.  Rather, this was simple, clear evidence to me that it was humans — people of my own kind and of my own time — that were the culprit.

Also, at this time, I realized that Shepherd Book had morphed into D’Argo, and I was now aware that I was, indeed, John Crichton.  I’m not entirely sure that I hadn’t been the whole time, although I knew very distinctly that I was in the future.  Not just a century or two in the future, but long enough in the future that the human race could have actually evolved into the alien forms surrounding me.  Millions of years in the future!  (Contrary to the proposed timelines of either Firefly OR Farscape.)

As I held one of the batteries in my hand, D’Argo asked me what it was, and I explained that it was a power source from my time.

Someone else contributed: “Something used before the discovery of infinite power.”

I nodded, and continued the explanation, but not before interjecting with the trait that very much makes me me: “Well, almost infinite power.”  A tongue-in-cheek clarification that, for some reason, as usual, I felt compelled to express.  (Clearly this John Crichton had many attributes from Jeremy Tharp.)  Anyway, the obvious flaw in “infinite power” (in terms of electrical power) is that existence of such a thing would surely lead to the instant collapse of the universe.

(In regards to the instant collapse of the universe, I am not trying to argue a point here — regardless of whether such a postulation is true logically, it was completely true in this dream, so it’s best to read it that way.)

I showed the others my watch as a demonstration of the type of device such a little module might power.  My watch had not been working for a very long time, but I explained that I recently began wearing it, even though it was not even working then, because I liked the watch.  (The watch in this dream was a direct allusion to one I wore during my freshman year of college.  Although it did not look exactly the same, it was probably the watch I would have to find today — as in 12 years later, 2009 — to make me want to wear it as I did in 1997.)

Everyone kind of shrugged off the watch thing as yet another of my human, illogical idiosyncrasies, but they got the general point (Very Crichton-esque), and I then began musing and digesting all of this aloud.  After all, the character in my dream was well settled in this place, but the perspective of me — the one hosting this dream — was still blending with the personality of this John Crichton.

“Millions of years!” I shouted.  Holding one of the batteries pried from the wall, I emphatically reiterated “You’re millions of years in my future, and yet it was someone of my own time — my own race — that did this.”  There was a very distinct aroma of “Eureka!” (Not the show, just the sense of clarification) here, but, alas, this discovery was, ultimately, not the culmination of this dream.

All of us were gathered there now, most sitting on a sofa as if this were the lounge in a local fire station.  I, Aeryn Suhn, and D’Argo (and possibly someone else) were still standing.

I perceived a subtle hint of apathy from the crew, and now I realized that, for some reason, that they did not want to leave this place.  Not only did they not want to find our lost companion, but they did not care to continue their personal explorations of the stars, and, to me, this was a travesty.

“I want to see it all!” I screeched so emphatically that every blood vessel in my body must have been visible through my skin.  “Every square inch of it, and I cannot stop until I do!”  By this point, even my own mind had wandered away from the lost member of our crew, and it would never return there.

“I don’t know why, but I do,” I emphasized, disheartened by the looming logic that always begets me when examining infinity: I will die, humans will die, and none of this exotic exploration of the unknown bears any ultimate meaning to anyone but those who will, eventually, cease to exist.

“I do, I do, and there is no other way.”  Perplexed by my own intricacies, I was so overwhelmed with passion that I began to cry, and I fell to my knees before the table (think “coffee table”) that sat in front of the couch.  I sat back on my heels, then crossed my arms on the table as I fell forward and lay my head upon them.  I noticed that this was not actually a coffee table, but an old record player we had in the house throughout my childhood (my real childhood, not John Crichton’s), and, before my head reached its resting place on my arms, I brushed a bit of dust away from the knobs.

Aeryn, quite overwhelmed by my empassioned tirade, found herself crying as well, and she knelt down on the other side of the table, her head atop mine, and somehow consoled me with her own tearful expression.

***********************************************************************

And then I woke up.

└ Tags: building, farscape, Firefly, infinite, Jeremy Tharp, John Crichton, metal, philosophy of existence, power, rusty surface, something, time, tiny fragments, tiny scratches, vantage point
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To be who you are, you must first be someone else

by Jeremy on November 11, 2009 at 11:07 pm
Posted In: Purpose

I felt the urge to examine the following quote from John Stuart Mill and attempt to rationalize the gist of the concept.

War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.

There is a very simple point here:  War is terrible, but refuting war on principle, even when doing so jeopardizes one’s personal freedoms, is far more terrible.

It is very easy to agree with this, because a general philosophy should be that no truth is so absolute that it can contradict another absolute truth.

Now, to examine, I will state that there is a very distinct law in my own personal philosophy: Any state of being is a prison.  Poetically justified: Anything you are is the consummate shadow of everything else that you are not.

In other words, everyone inhabits some sort of prison.  Some have just hung curtains and plants and are happy there, while others are more content fighting to find a better prison.

Thus, the inherent contradiction in this quote becomes evident.  For the idea to hold true, if you want to be anti-war, you must first succumb to a presumed logical inevitability (extraneous to your belief) that you must accept war as a viable method of protecting your belief.

In other words, you are free to be anti war, but to keep it that way, you must think like everyone else and fight a war on your own behalf.  To be who you are, you must first be someone else.

At best this is a conundrum, and by no means is this a logical disproof of war.  It is a simple demonstration that the path laid out by many as a journey to purity will inevitably require a very direct sacrifice of purity to conquer.

There are many branches to this concept, and I have personally examined a large portion of them in depth, but this general idea is a good entry to the philosophy of “breaking one’s chains.”

└ Tags: Abstraction, Belief, better men, concept, degraded state, Epistemology, exertions, feeling, John Stuart Mill, miserable creature, nothing, personal freedoms, personal philosophy, Philosophy, prison, quote, state, thing, truth, ugliest, ugly thing, viable method, war
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A la recherche d’une bouquet de gens …

by Jeremy on September 18, 2009 at 8:27 am
Posted In: Metaphysical, Purpose

For anyone who might not get the title, it translates to “In search of a bouquet of people,” and it arose from a simple observation I made this morning.

(No, I’m not referring to the lingering sensual remnants we experience after a sip of wine …  :-D)

First, I want to lead into the subject by saying how a bouquet of flowers is often viewed as much more beautiful than the flower itself.  Obviously, if the single flower were completely lacking in beauty, the resulting bouquet would need to seek alternate avenues of beauty to achieve it.

Secondly, I’m specifically referring to bouquets of the same flower.  Examples: a dozen roses, 6 carnations of the same color, etc.

So how does this relate to people?  I noticed two people at the gas station this morning, a woman and a man, each wearing tan slacks and a light blue button down shirt.  Given that I am really not one to notice attire (at all), this alone was a good example of contextual violence, since it grabbed my attention.  In fact, I thought the two people were correlated in some way, even though they were driving completely different cars– make, model, color, size–and they were on opposite sides of the pumps.

Anyway, it dawned on me that we often feel somewhat cheated when we see two (or more) people wearing identical outfits for no apparent reason.  It’s like we expect some grand story to be the cause, yet a dozen roses is simply amplified beauty.

No, all the bouquets of people that we find appealing are in things like church choirs, or sports teams, company employees, etc. where the underlying story is rather predictable.  Six carnations would seem pretty unexpected, even at a funeral or wedding where massive amounts of bouquets are hardly even stand out contextually.

I’m not really trying to prove a deep philosophical point, but I’m pondering where the apparent lack of uniqueness in people caused by random (or at least unrelated) circumstances, linking people in no way but the visual, can bring us the deep sense joy of that bouquet of roses.

It’s a fair argument to say that any group of people is quite a lovely bouquet, as the diversity and contributions they put forth can be astounding, but I suppose that’s not what I’m looking for.

A la recherche d’une bouquet de gens …

└ Tags: beauty, bouquet, bouquet of flowers, church choirs, clothing, color, dozen, dozen roses, flower, flowers, morning, sip of wine, tan slacks, uniqueness, unrelated circumstances
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