Anyone who follows me on Twitter knows that I’m into space and other nerd stuff. I like to think about life-in-the-universe and all those other mind-blowey sorts of ideas, and I realize how strange it is that we’ve grown up on a rock circling a somewhat humdrum yellow dwarf star, sort of like mold.
And then I wonder about what other forms of thought might exist in the universe because let’s face it, as much as we define “life” as that which takes in and transforms energy to create copies of itself, life when you get right down to it, is thought. On some level. And yes, in the end, I think that probably goes for animals and probably even plants. Life is awareness.
This opens up the whole concept of what life can consist of — electrical discharges in nebulae? Why not? (Hell, why not electrical discharges in the Earth’s atmosphere?)
And so … we’re pretty weird, really. We’re only one very specific form of life having arisen on a rocky planet like fuzz in the carton of tomato sauce in the back of your fridge.
And how “fundamental” to the universe is it when we create art by manipulating compression waves in the gaseous medium that has been gravitationally held to the surface of a little rock? I mean seriously, that’s just weird when you think about it.
“I’m a musician” = “I manipulate compression waves in a gaseous medium and call it art.”
We manipulate gas, and it makes us cry. Humans are goofy. Of course, this is how we communicate as well, which only adds to the goofiness. We turn vibrating gas into meaning.
(On a related but disgusting note: I’ve always wondered if, when you fart while sitting next to your dog, your dog doesn’t think to himself, “I wonder what he meant by that?”)