A Final Disposition

I saw a Cheshire grin as sweet as sin,
Golden in Glasgow when it first began;
A forced smile wider for a friend
Than lips would part for me again.

I saw a renaissance grin of smug delight
Enlightened by an ephemeral sign;
A worse smile had at my expense
Than I would ever see again.

I saw rapacious grins as black as night
Take to my person like a deadly tide,
Their smiles betrayed their intents, alas
What I saw next was what I saw last:

I saw bullet-teeth in a leaden grin,
Golden halos around a violin,
Or silver coronas like the angels' wings.
And it was a fitting passage to Heaven's end,
More than I would hope to receive again.

Thoughts on science (ignore the TERRIBLE punctuation)

I've recently been reading H.P. Lovecraft and while I've greatly enjoyed the strength of his writing and his imagination with all things horrific, macabre, and science fiction-y, it was not his Cthulhu Mythos – the reason I looked into him in the first place – that most impressed me, nor was it his attempts at writing “scary stories”. The single piece of work in the collection I currently possess (but will not for much longer) that had the profoundest impact upon me is, interestingly enough, one of his least-liked stories by most of his fans: “The Silver Key”. Now, I must admit the actual story itself is not particularly well-written, and the rising action, denouement, and ending truly left quite a bit to be desired, but uncharacteristically I was able to overlook these flaws, their impact mitigated by my identification with the protagonist who, as many have suggested, in based upon Lovecraft himself. This character is described in some length as having once been fascinated with the fanciful and the fantastic, with worlds far beyond the understanding of modern man and with things that, truly, man may never have been meant to know. However as this character grew older and supposedly wiser, he was indoctrinated in the sciences and logic, a process that eventually stripped him of his foreign landscapes and credulity surrounding them, replacing the childlike wonder with half-hearted skepticism. This is a process that many undergo in their lives, and had the story stopped there, I do not think I would have been struck as I had been by the sense of fellowship I felt for the protagonist who's name - which I neglected to mention previously - is Randolph Carter. However Mr. Carter did not strictly adhere to the scientific and worldly mentality, recognizing that the constructs of man were inherently flawed and uncertain, perhaps even more so than fantasy. This is a thought that I've also often entertained, wondering why is it that ancient knowledges that were once so certain have been replaced by sciences which make unfounded assumptions and indeed even expect their subscribers to accept in faith that what has not been discovered eventually will be. I can not, though, say that I am a follower of ancient ways and beliefs, raised as I was on a curriculum of modern-day logic and science, but recognizing the shortcomings of both, I've come to adopt an unskeptical view of antiquity. I maintain that there are things man does not know, and that everything man has discovered can be quite different that what he believes, or simply incorrect. I've often wondered anyone can be sure of the formulae they place so much stock in, or in the truths they believe they've discovered. Newtonian physics were once the accepted norm until Einstein, working patiently for years, shattered those long-held tenets with a radical conceptualization of reality. Then Einstein too was dethroned by radical re-imaginings of quantum mechanics, which created a world of uncertainty and probability and, in Einstein's view, improbability. My point with the very short and extremely incomplete history lesson, is that each time the workings of the world were made anew, the concepts and formulae used were vast departures than those previously held, though they undoubtedly stemmed from their predecessors. How can one be expected to do anything more than take these new developments “with a grain of salt” as it were, understanding as they do that if the foundations are weak, that eventually the entire structure must collapse? I've often wondered how we know that the systems of primitive man are worthy of developing vast empires of knowledge upon. Another thought that worries me is the homogenization of knowledge and scientific pursuit. True there are many conflicting views and beliefs, but none of them deviate from the accepted views of the world. There are none that are truly revolutionary, simply derivative-yet-dissenting. In the end though, I am forced to admit that while I have entertained these notions, they do not trouble me very much. Arithmetic may be wrong, and the entire foundation of mathematics be full of incredible holes as a result, but what of it? If two and two does not equal four, what does it matter? If logic and the like are false, what would change? They suit our needs and in our current lives major upheavals in knowledge may not be met with much personal change or indeed much gravity. The point is, regardless of whether or not microphysics is based upon a dice roll, life still prevails and no one would be duly concerned. How many of us notice the effects of the machinations of atoms? How many of us are worried about the location of electrons? It may affect us, but what can we truly do about it? And if we could tamper with it, would we want to? In the end, the questions that Randolph Carter reminded me of were all answered simply with: It doesn't matter if the world is run by science or magic, because in the end there isn't much differentiating between the two and so why worry?

P.s. I would like to clarify that I am not advocating apathy or disinterest, simply suggesting that man should not be so jaded in his beliefs. Nothing is certain, nothing is concrete, but that should not cause undue worry. Life prevails, does it not?