You're Not The Boss Of Me!

Are we fated to make the decisions we do? Or do we actually have some sort of free-will? Is there a higher being that predetermines the course of our lives and we just haven't realized it? Even though we can never know the answers to these questions, I will discuss them with myself in a textual form to be recorded on the interweb. Here goes.

Suppose that we are fated to make all of our decisions, with no real choice involved. Suppose that I was fated to type this blog, and that you were fated to read it. Suppose that all the movements we make in our daily lives were mapped out for us beforehand, and we just didn't know it. How are we to tell that this is not the case? We find ourselves contemplating difficult decisions--whether or not to brush our teeth, how long to wait before starting our work, whether or not to call that person, how much you tell your parents about your weekend--but how do we know whether what we decide was not predetermined before hand? How can we know that our decision has not already been made, and that our contemplations are just a part of  the process?

Maybe free-will exists. Maybe it was my own choice to write this blog at this point in time rather than write my paper. Perhaps you were going to meet somebody but instead you opened your web browser and navigated your way to my blog. It was your choice to waste your time with my waste of time. Maybe some sense of reasoning led you to the conclusion that having that bowl of ice cream could possibly not go to your butt but instead could be compensated for by running for some too-large number of minutes. Maybe you have the ultimate decision over your actions, regardless of other people.

How can we know? There isn't a little angel or devil version of me who appears on my shoulders when I try to make decisions. However, I can't say that there isn't some kind of influence that permeates my subconscious without me knowing. How can I say that it wasn't by the force of an outside being that I chose to wear my sunglasses at night? How can I think that something beyond my control caused me to write exactly what I'm writing right now? Are these truly my thoughts? Or are they merely a sick joke of some greater being, delivered through a carbon-based vessel to confuse other readers? How am I to know? How are you to know?

The answer is simple. You cannot. Isn't that infuriating?

Time: Does It Really fly?

So I read this book called Einstein's Dreams, which is really interesting. It's a fictional piece about all these theories that Einstein came up with about time before he settled on the Theory of Relativity. Some of them are really cool, and some of them are stupid, but it's really well written and I recommend reading it. However, that is not what inspired this post. I will now discuss some of my views on time and its passage.

First of all, how do we perceive time? We have some idea that we are moving through time, or that time is moving past us, but we cannot really know whether or not it exists. I think. Maybe we should ask some physicists or philosophers. Anyway, why do we have this idea? Why do we need time? Do we rely on our past experiences to define ourselves? Do we decide our actions by our past experiences and future consequences? And if we do, should we? Why not just live in the present? Here lies my disquietude.

Living in the moment. Living by your whims and passing fancies. What would happen? People would die young. Without regard to the future, people would no longer judge their actions by their consequences. People would have more sex, use more drugs, eat more trans-fatty and carbohydrated foods, drive fast, stay up late, and do whatever else they please, as the consequences would be, ironically, of no consequence. Nobody would work, or go to school, because nobody would care about learning new things or making money. Hooray for unproductive societies!

Why do we believe time? We were all raised to believe that time exists, but does it? How do we know that the past actually happened? Could we not simply have notions of something we call the past? Our bodies are not proof. We remember our childhood, our parents, growing up, and all of that, but who or what is to say that our minds have not simply created our oh-so-fond memories of our experience? Disbelieve is fun! Perhaps you think that the scar on your knee is from the time you fell off your bike when you were seven. Maybe it is just an abnormal skin pigmentation, and you actually never were seven. Creepy, huh?

On another note, white chocolate is not chocolate, nor should it be called chocolate, nor should anybody prefer it to dark chocolate because it contains no cocoa solids and generally isn't as good.

Time does not exist. You live in a single moment. Right now. No, wait... 

Now.

Or maybe it's now.

Anyway, it could be that you and everything else has been created at this exact moment in time. Who's to say that you weren't? If you call your friend on your cell phone, and they tell you, "Don't be stupid. Of course you existed before right now," how can you know that they existed before as well? Maybe they were created just now, complete with memories of your previous existence, along with your cell phone, their cell phone and the computer you're reading this on.

What should we believe? Can you rely on your experiences? How do you know it's not all a dream? Maybe we all live in our minds and we just don't know it. Who's to tell you otherwise?

Believe nothing.