Life has many many variables. Sometimes, events pan out differently than we anticipated at other times they unfold exactly as we want them to. Except that the only constant that abides through all life’s threads is uncertainty itself.
For all the advancements men have forged through all civilizations from the dawn of time: medicine, travel, space exploration, energy and climatology, the uncertainty of the present and of the morrow still lingers.
In this matrix of uncertainty a paradox yet does emerge which is the certitude of death.The death of life, all life. Though we bear this truth as at once empirically verifiable, we are nonetheless uncertain of when the bell shall toll for each one of us.
This uncertainty is unsettling in all possible ways. Man knows the exact estimate of time, down to the minute,it will take for him to travel from Earth to Mars in whatever space craft . Man can predict with certainty the formation of cataclysmic climate systems, locate planetary positions and movements through calculations of physics. Man knows how to tame the most ferocious of beasts, numb the potency of the venom of serpents and so on.
All the accumulation of knowledge from different spheres and power over nature has not brought man any sense of comfort or certainty of the sum of his days on earth. This uncertainty stalks man’s best endeavors with a kind of lameness that confounds him from a purely social learning perspective.
Matters are infinitely compounded by the fact that man knows not at what point in life his knees will give in, his heart get swollen and enlarged. At what point will his mental acuity be afflicted with impairment. When will his body cells run riot and begin malformation and abnormal growth.
The certitude of these kinds of knowledges ought to commend to men rather naturally owing to the fact that the present civilization is at the apogee of it’s advancement. Arguably, at the highest point ever since the dawn of time and should therefore be safely in man’s belt. But it is not. At least not yet. It seems ever more likely now than ever that it will remain elusive for the simple but unflattering reason that it is quite simply outside the province of man’s power to wield this kind of knowledge no matter how intently we gaze into the stars. For to have prior knowledge of these kinds of events is to quite literally be all knowing. The Universe has withheld it’s imprimatur.
So, shall man’s story be anticlimactic? That for all his conquests , for all his power, for all his advancement and forays to outter space, man knows very little about himself and because of his ironic dearth of knowledge and understanding he simply won’t be able to surmount ultimate uncertainty. The uncertainty about who he is and of his times here on earth.
In this very respect man overwhelmingly not only exemplifies but espouses fatalism a surrender to what will be will be sort of pragmatism. Some of course reject the inevitability of fate and take matters into their own hands as if to escape the matrix. But in doing so, they don’t succeed in vanquishing the uncertainty and hopelessness that they seek to flee from but instead only amplify and affirm it
Magna Tales.