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[the-quantum-flower]

To clarify. Quantum mechanics is crazy beyond words. But give the particles a fucking break, man. They are at least not writing mumble rap or blowing up embassies. They are doing fine. Like, this goes for every cool and mind blowing discovery - from collapsing wave functions to time dilation: it’s not even close to be the weirdest thing that occurs in this universe. Have you ever watched Japanese porn?

[the-quantum-flower]

day 02.

Alright. As my first step towards deeper understanding of the universe, I dived head first into the two slit experiment.  It’s funny, since I watched the Youtube video with HE. HE is a physicist (which comes in handy in times like these) and he looked at me with this excited facial expression. Even as a PhD student, who has watched experiments like this a thousand times, he seemed completely stunned by the fact that there is a firm conclusion that can be summed up in the words what the fuck? I am from political science, darling. Everything is what the fuck around here.The atoms are confusing you? Have you tried studying humans? 

[the-quantum-flower]

day 01.

I didn’t start this blog to gain followers, or readers. I just wanted to make a diary stored in a public place. It’s sort of like hiding a notebook under the stones of the city’s main square - going out there every late night and adding some scribbles, and then tuck it back in the dirt and go back home, secretly hoping that when you open it the next night there will be a short “ah, you’re alright, mate” written at the bottom of the page. Fact is, I am alright. More than alright. And that’s another reason for writing this. I am intelligent. Not in the sense that I am good with numbers, or with anything, really. But my stream of thought is both entertaining and often somewhat consistent with reality. I was one of these children that always was praised for my wit and knowledge, and just like with most of the spoiled and moderately gifted middle class kids of my generation, it has made me sickeningly arrogant. I knew I wanted to do philosophy since I was around 10 and heard about Schrodinger's cat for the first time. For me, that experiment didn’t represent anything remotely scientific or practical. Instead, it was a doorway to the world of metaphysics, asking the question if there could be many realities existing at once. Without reading much about it, I started creating small, silly theories about how the world worked. Descartes and Plato joined me, and soon I was the nerdiest kid on the block (I grew up on a farm, so this statement makes zero sense). When I was 14 I took guitar lessons in a nearby village, and I remember seeing a sticker on a lamp-post, questioning the injustice of the world and warning about the dangers of globalism. When I came home, we had salmon for dinner in our big, modern dining room, and I asked my father was syndicalism was. Very, very left, he answered. Since then I took a new direction in my interests. Feminism. Liberalism. Socialism. I was very careful never to use any of these labels and I never joined any parties or groups: since if there’s one thing teenagers hates it is to be compared to other teenagers. I was sick most of my teen years and didn’t leave the house much. I still don’t. This has given me a lot of time for thought, and I’ve enjoyed it greatly. I fell in love with economical theories, and legal issues. The big questions about democracy and governance. In high school I came in touch with John Rawls, and remembered taking a lot of proud in a line I wrote on my final exam: I am not a leftist. I am a person who fights for the human rights. And if I were a right winger, I would ask myself why those two are always mixed up. I’ve studied international law for over four years now. My goal was Russia, at first. Then it became Israel-Palestine (can you sense the arrogance yet?). And it was when reading a translated speech by a Hamas official it all took a new turn once again. Suddenly, this wave of nihilism hit me with such force I couldn’t walk properly for days. I don’t want to out my love here on this site. So I am gonna call him HE, for the sake of anonymity. HE was a religious man until very recently. HE prayed, went to his place of worship and lived according to the rules of his faith. HE has told me he tried for a long time to fight the realization that was dawning in front of him. But he couldn’t, and he fell, rather unwillingly, into the deep, dark well of atheism. We sat at the park one day and he said he could still feel the pain of it. This burning, aching need for meaning, now forever there to be left unanswered. Once you know you cannot unknow. God’s left. And he’s not coming back. I tried to be supportive, and maybe I was successful - but at the time, I didn’t understand the feeling HE was describing. I’ve been an atheist all my life. Life has never had a meaning. There has never been someone watching over me from above. I didn’t experience this kind of loss. But now, I am pretty sure that I have. I think it’s been coming to me for a while now. But it wasn’t until I heard the words of the Hamas soldier I fully realized it: I don’t believe in politics. I don’t believe in human rights. There is no morals. There is no rights and no wrongs. There is no cause that matters. In the end, we are all just dying entities, with no power, no nothing - and nothing that we are today will last. No words, no arts, no conclusions. Even the most beautiful, political theory will be outdated before it’s even commonly known. The field of political science, or political philosophy is nothing but a self confirming, arrogant and lazy pile of circle jerks. The most you can possibly accomplish is to prolong a dying child's life by some years. And when that dying child is you, and all you see is the poisonous, bleeding, gray mass that is humanity - it’s quite hard to find motivation. Especially with this deafening ticking in your ears. This striking awareness of time passing. Aging. Wasting. I am wasted. I feel like that. I am a wasted life that has no direction, no meaning, no path. Intelligence just dripping from an abandoned sink in a third world subway bathroom. Desperately I am trying to leave some sort of mark before I move on. But there’s no tools, no patterns, not even hands. Just… slippery, wet awareness. And not the good kind. This of course doesn't mean I will stop. I will study my studies. Write my writings. And do the deeds that I think I should do. But I will also do something else. I will go back to the only thing I’ve ever found any meaning in - the theories of the world and the universe. This is what I want to blog about. I want to go deeper into the things that matters. The few things that actually gives us a tiny glimpse into a universe bigger than just human suffering. I think that is the only true purpose there is: Knowledge. And lasting knowledge isn’t found in politics, not in Rawls, not in law and definitely not in Israel or Palestine. I am going back to the fucking cat, since everything seems to start there. Quantum physics. Why not become self taught in that? I mean… How hard can it be?