|every day is a good day
||[Feb. 20th, 2007|01:04 am]
no one of consequence
|||||excuse you - mc paul barman||]|
A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add,
but when there is nothing left to take away.
i entered the anechoic chamber expecting to hear absolutely nothing, but when they closed the door, i heard two sounds, one high and one low. when i described it to the engineer in charge, he told me that the high one was my nervous system in operation and the low one was my blood in circulation. i now believe that nothing will ever be perfect, there is just too much going on for me to ever reach the bottom.
"the suffering that all astronauts endure is almost impossible for us on earth to understand..." the speakers at the back of the lecture hall that were producing the beautiful voice emitted a shrill screech followed by the thumping of two aged fingers on the microphone, which was being worn by the owner of both the beautiful voice and the two aged fingers who was standing at the front of the hall, "rarely, if ever, can someone who has seen the darkness express it in words that have meaning for anyone who has not experienced it. in this way it is much like conceptions of god, except instead of the infinitely occupied creative light that is associated with most gods, it is a complete emptiness that attempts to force its way in to areas filled with light and take from them anything they might have to tell us; this darkness isn't the same as the darkness in your home at night that can be made to retreat when you turn a light on. no, this darkness will not leave at the insistence of a lamp," the ancient man at the front of the room paused and the entire audience immediately missed his beautiful voice, which had seemed, to those who could only imagine the darkness, to be the only thing capable of restoring the light. when he continued, the relief of the audience was almost audible, "it is certainly a difficult thing to explain using only words which must stand for ideas that are nearly incomprehensible to us, so i will tell you all a story which will, i hope, make this clearer," he paused and again, as soon as the last reverberations of beautiful, peaceful, hopeful sound had faded, the audience became afraid.
as soon as the people of the town saw the blind boy stumbling down the street, they demanded to know what had happened to his blue eyes which they all agreed had been beautiful. it was eventually explained that the previous evening his brother had told him what beauty was to him. his brother had said that a beautiful thing must be timeless, that it could show no signs of temporality or it would reveal itself as just another one of the superficial trimmings of the world, not true beauty which must transcend all human systems and show itself to have been written into the very laws of the universe. he had disagreed, at first with only mild annoyance, but eventually, when his brother refused to compromise, with great anger. he shouted that nothing in this universe is permanent and we must be willing to accept the inherently fragile nature of beauty, because if we couldn't do that, then we would miss out on everything wonderful in the world. he gained even more volume and violence when he told his brother that it was not the idea of flowers blooming that he found beautiful (even though the timeless nature of such an earth-dependent event was highly dubious) but the individual flowers that had bloomed which were beautiful. how, he demanded, could any human ever be beautiful by his brother's definition, for all humans were doomed to die, and even before that many lose their beauty; some even gain beauty through cosmetics which will fade before the night is over, and is that not true loveliness? when he had finished, his brother responded by saying he believed that beauty exists apart from what human eyes can see. what is beautiful in a woman to one might not appeal to another, but that does not mean there is no standard in the universe, it is the fault of our eyes that we cannot see which one is right. no, he continued, it was not right to think of short lived things as beautiful, just their ideas, which were, he argued, timeless. his brother stopped then and looked at him, expecting a nod; however, no nod was given; instead, he had raised a knife to his beautiful blue eyes and was preparing to teach his brother a lesson about the fleeting nature of beauty.
the wonderful voice was raised again and effortlessly made to say, "after the perceived death of his crew, the astronaut was further from another human being than anyone else in history. he wandered the halls alone, always trying to find his way back home with his little pocket of light, but he was always aware of the thick blackness waiting outside of the glass and metal of his ship. the blackness would gently probe his vessel for a path inside, it wanted to flow through an open window and drown out his cabin lights, surround the astronaut, and force its way inside his helmet," because this was being relayed through such a splendid medium, the audience was not immediately terrified after hearing such a horrible thing. it wasn't until the lecturer stopped and let his voice fade that the audience began to shift nervously in their seats, upon seeing this transformation, the man at the front continued, "i must add that this blackness isn't a malevolent force specifically targeting humans in spaceships, it is simply a natural entity that flows out to take up the greatest possible area, like water. but that area is the entire universe except for the area we protect here with the dome you can all see about your heads when you walk outside. continuing on, the astronaut was plagued by the relentless and unthinking assault of the darkness for his entire 6 month trip back to earth. he would be awakened every night by a gentle tapping at the window and the noise of voices that sounded almost human urging him to open the airlock to let them in. it took all of his strength to resist the temptation to open up and just let the darkness have its way."