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A warring dilemma in my mind in conceiving the pain of being a scientist.

September 4, 2010

Mohan, mdashf


Given my attitude of expressing my inability to write more than I do, which can be overbearing on my unconscious ways of gaining a reputation that I can write a humongous amount on just about anything I have come across, which bounds to infinite, its only a matter of time that I gain a focus and make myself cozy enough to write and just write and forget that I might have another business to attend to. But I have also realized that there may not be enough of anything pressing at the time and that brings certain amount of feel good to my mind to embark onto writing my mind. In the alternate scenario I can not sit at any one place let alone think of involving something as thought and time consuming as writing.

And despite of my popularity of being a focused thinker, which may strike with as much impunity, as is needed for me to set my goal on writing my next blog, still, I take time to think. And I take time to think before I embark onto my next article because someone’s thought may be lurking at my own existence and this may easily run into tons of people in my mind-scape. This preoccupation may not allow me enough of free will to exercise my judgment to write my own mind. My purpose is often not to talk about myself as may sound from the outset because of the loose ends and half tones you may find in what I say. My purpose is to make it clear an I do so by allowing myself to review. This is possible if I can find the time and will to do so again and I do.

One may jump his gun and say this is preposterous how this may be called any suitable use of ones time. I would rather continue doing this, that is continue to be preposterous and frivolous than take up somebody’s ill-found doubts about somebody’s else’s judgment in utilizing his time. I say so based on the reasoning that its not possible to find so much time to judge on another persons use of time. I think this reasoning might have gained some reputation for me to be a bit self willed and self absorbed.

And some foxy and pep reviewers would advise me that this better fit into a habit of keeping a journal or diary of yourself. But I put this habit of mine to sit back and write into rather a very necessary meditation for an unusual person like me, more than Yoga. Yes, Yoga is physical but unproven albeit widely and unquestionably followed. I think, Yoga is not very proven to be scientific whereas writing as a physical and spiritual exercise where the mind is a little bit more dominant is a good way of meditation at least for the mind and as far as mind influences the physical body positively, for the physical body as well.

I may confer that reading and watching something in motion as serene as an isolated patch of nature are as well good ways of meditation for the mind and body. Have you ever seen a spring in the midst of a forest quite far away from civilization? Isn’t it peaceful and serene as it fills our mind with an awe unmatched to any other thrill we know?

So writing is a meditation. You may say so is Yoga. I am a bit less a fan of Yoga, because I agree I am a self confessing anti cosmopolitan. I would much rather enjoy my bout of sports activities and sweat myself so that I would inspire myself to take a shower. Given that this is something I have been unable to enjoy in a rather long spell of time (no not the shower, the sports) I am onto other felonies of modern life.

I enjoy a time of solitude and think about how it inspires me to discover my wild side. I also enjoy it to put myself into a session of mindful pleasure of self imagination. You may call it self gratification but I am no saint Vincent who proclaims himself to be scientific both at the same time. I believe you will rather appreciate that I am a scientist and I do not claim myself to be a saint.

I may be a saint if you understand the meaning of being a scientist, not a saint Vincent who goes up onto TV, captures a great deal of wealth and lives a hidden life. The Voyeurism of-course puts him into the category of Ron Jeremy. But that’s the advantage of being a saint Vincent. It gives him the pleasure of a hidden desire. Possibly of all human beings to get appreciated in the involvement of that act without at the same time knowing that he has been caught. You know what I mean.

I am writing a piece of essay on the dilemma in my mind and one advance alien civilization has a camera where they can capture my imagination far away from where I am sitting and even broadcast among the alien elites and giggle about it while enjoying their pungent smelling beer. Their beer is called anti Corona by the way, in my wild imagination. And can the aliens be involved in the act of Voyeurism against humanity? May be we ask Hawking.

If you ask me though I would discourse on an unproven theory of Quantum Mechanics where our imagination is a wave function and gets transmitted like a wave and gets caught by the aliens by their Hubble like telescope which converts such signal into a Xray video clip. But then given their sense of reality which has no connection with our intelligence and understanding we may not realize what we are looking at even if they send us one of their DVD via Netflix.

So my pain of being doesn’t necessarily involve human civilizations affairs and trials and tribulations on planet earth. It also constitutes a pain of being in being a mind per se. This mind resembles a physical human much less comparable to aliens than the earthlings. A mind which moves unbounded between the head (this time the skull) and the limbs. A mind which is supreme in any standard to be involved in the acts of human tendency but sprinkles the imagination of a regular human with all desires thinkable (and add 7 more for each day of the week). The pain of being therefore is a physical pain as similar as anyone humans but understood and realized completely differently. A pain which carries in it the notion of hope like it would carry a notion of despair.

To focus more on the purpose of telling you how then such a pain directs us towards the dilemma that connects to the doubts and uncertainties of science and how at all this can be called science is a purpose worth pondering. I do not have an answer as of now.

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