Tom Wolfe Weighs In On The Meaning Of Life

Tom Wolfe is one of my favorite authors. He wrote lots of amazing stuff, including Bonfire of the Vanities, A Man In Full, I am Charlotte Simmons, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, The New Journalism and many others.

I have no idea when he wrote this article, but anyone interested in the meaning of life (that should pretty much be everyone) should read this article. A fascinating look at the foundations of science and the history of human thought.

Here’s an interesting excerpt:

Ironically, said Nietzsche, this unflinching eye for truth, this zest for skepticism, is the legacy of Christianity (for complicated reasons that needn’t detain us here). Then he added one final and perhaps ultimate piece of irony in a fragmentary passage in a notebook shortly before he lost his mind (to the late-nineteenth-century’s great venereal scourge, syphilis). He predicted that eventually modern science would turn its juggernaut of skepticism upon itself, question the validity of its own foundations, tear them apart, and self-destruct. I thought about that in the summer of 1994 when a group of mathematicians and computer scientists held a conference at the Santa Fe Institute on “Limits to Scientific Knowledge.” The consensus was that since the human mind is, after all, an entirely physical apparatus, a form of computer, the product of a particular genetic history, it is finite in its capabilities. Being finite, hardwired, it will probably never have the power to comprehend human existence in any complete way. It would be as if a group of dogs were to call a conference to try to understand The Dog. They could try as hard as they wanted, but they wouldn’t get very far. Dogs can communicate only about forty notions, all of them primitive, and they can’t record anything. The project would be doomed from the start. The human brain is far superior to the dog’s, but it is limited nonetheless. So any hope of human beings arriving at some final, complete, self-enclosed theory of human existence is doomed, too.

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    The limits of my brain bar me from understanding your meniacal compulsion to engage in online intellecutal masturbation. It all strikes me as wonderfully vainglorious and self-indulgent. While you digest the results of an online poll of your growing collection of friends' thoughts on the existence of god, you snooze through the signs of god all around you - spring in the Upper Valley, a human life in your wife's womb, the glitter from the sun across a lake while sharing a beer with a close friend.

    You wonder about the meaning of life? The existence of god?

    Close your lap-tap. Allow the people who care about you to hear the joy in your voice as you recount your adventures in life.

    There it is.

    Required Reading for Chris:
    Seize the Day - Saul Bellow
    The Grand Inquisitor from The Brothers Karamazov
 
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