beauty of our finitude

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My cheeks were often teary through the second half of “The Theory of Everything.” Though the story of Stephen and Jane is heartrending, her True Love and his desire to know—Earthling facing The Cosmos—transcended cruel happenstance of Nature—Nature having no regard for mind, no regard for anything, for there’s no intent to Nature. Only minds love and desire.

So yes I’m still here, and here we are: living history without ultimate consolation, yet at least maintaining Good order, trying to improve things as best we can, dealing with what happens, and facing the same ol’ stuff that earlier eras faced trying to avoid the prospect of heirs facing the same ol’ stuff.

Yet, things change: new conveniences, better toys, even some durable progress for intelligent life. And things stay the same: love and desire.

Two steps forward, one back. Our species muddles on, and It all somehow, slowly evolves.

Having made the best life we could, the elders carry on as long as feasible, doing all we can to contribute to ensuring that you all carry on well for the sake of wholly flourishing humanity.

One is supposed to die, yet at best old and happy. You are supposed to fairly flourish. Renew! Originate.

Stephen Hawking was supposed to die two years after diagnosis, fifty years ago. Last month, he got a new generation computer. He decided to keep the “American” voice the world knows, a voice that sounds like a robot from Out There.

He fears evolution of computer cognition (“artificial intelligence”) toward autogenic Singularity. He fears the result of Contact (“E.T.”s).

Don’t be afraid, I say. Intelligence, wonder of the cosmos, is primordially fair. I feel the silent night welcoming hope.

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