My name is EON, child of Time, and today I am speaking through the mind of an everyday man experiencing a series of epiphanies:
What is the value of a life? Why do we value it so much? Is there a specific argument that justifies the sanctity we place on an individual’s existence, any individual’s?
When looking at the bigger picture, I fail to see one. When looking at the entire cosmos, from end to end, from the beginning of time to the edge of eternity, in the middle of which we sit on a little blue dot in the middle of space, spinning around a roaring ball of fire spinning around in a spiral galaxy spinning around in a vast empty space filled with as many galaxies as there are cells in our bodies, I fail to see the significance. Isn’t it weird, if not self-indulgent, to consider my life, your life, any human life, sacred? Precious, yes, by all means — unique, wonderful, potentiated, microcosmically significant and telling, macrocosmically attuned, weird, magical, awesome — but not sacred. Nothing is sacred except the will to destroy everything.
Brace yourself. In destruction lies genesis and transformation. There’s only one truly supreme force in the world, the purpose of which is bound by a more potent kind of morality than that to which we have become accustomed. Omnipresent and indefatigable, it powers and drives everything that ever was, is, and will be, separating the relevant from the obsolete using trials of fire. It forces the next iteration of reality into form by continually testing its components, kick-starting them into existence on a variety of platforms and setups, ranging from physics, chemistry, biology and organic life, to intelligence, organization, civilization, awareness, consciousness and conscience, to science and technology, faith and religion, culture and nationhood, the global economy, the global ecology, artificial intelligence and evolution.
That force is Time. Time runs, designs and shapes the world by holding nothing sacred other than its components’ capacity to evolve. To evolve, each component must leave behind the old and dated arrangements, whatever they may be, which is a pleasant way of describing destruction. Whether through gradual change or explosive mutation, all roads lead to conflagration, reinvention, regeneration and complexity, sustaining the ceaseless development underlying the cosmos.
So much for humanist morality. The sanctimoniousness surrounding human life is clearly nothing more than a defense mechanism, an attempt to remain immortal and ever-important in an ever-changing, transmuting world.
If I were religious I would deem this a blasphemy against the divine nature of Time.
But I’m not. I’m a pragmatist. Which is why I simply call it the natural reaction of sentient but fragile creatures operating in a world hell bent on transmuting them.
I also deem it quaint, self-important and indicative of what will not survive — of that which will not contribute to the next iteration; of that which will remain proud and loyal to its heritage, like the amoeba, or the dragonfly, or the chimpanzee: present across time, immortal in some way, procreating and recreating itself, feeling active and committed to something larger than life, yet bypassed, irrelevant, self-indulgent, atavistic, and forever in the shadow of that which has truly moved on.
Spin it however you like, this is how it works. In destruction lies genesis and transformation. Logic knows it, science knows it, even religion knows it.
Intrigued? Watch this space for more.
From the collection of writings EON: THE ANGRY COMING OF AGE