Making Sense, or the lack, of it

Is there a point though of trying to define and measure the parameters of what sense should be in the world around me? There is always this dichotomy of trying to be at home with the irrationality around me versus trying, rather fruitlessly, of weaving a narrative around everything. The computing power of the brain, as reduced to a 4:1 Go match now, is rather limited and therefore the gigantic network of connections and isolated network components is difficult to ascertain. Even a 1% grasp of the plethora of information surrounding me would be a decently satisfying paradigm.

The social-media voyeurism continues unabated. The information junkie, as the technological upheaval is turning us to be, is increasingly isolating our environments into smaller pockets of dizzying excitement in a realm of a larger swath of disconcerting ignorance. The balance is difficult to achieve and yet one doth try.

Where should one draw the line? In the face of an onslaught of social-science results that pull and tug in almost always in opposite directions, how does one begin to comprehend the bigger picture? Our efforts at mastering the smaller picture (as I would define it), is often at odds with the larger meaning of it all. Because that instant gratification monkey rears its ugly head always, and I may be wrong, but that monkey consistently seems to side with the long-term narrative arc. And in so doing, encourages the phenomena that one could wear proudly if one aspired to become an original.

A byproduct of the new-fangled utopia out there is probably the mirage of performance that’s being crafted out of thin air. While the gaussian distribution of success could arguably be questioned through the empirical evidences being piled up by historians and social scientists, there isn’t a similar drive being made by the philosopher and the psychologist community. At least none that can be called the zeitgeist today. This striking imbalance in creating a vision of the future, coupled with an amplified iconoclastic culture could very well spell doom for a generation that has forgotten the 90’s probably a bit too soon.

I have only begun to wonder about the phenomena that would present itself as these millenials descend into middle-age or the age of resigned acceptance. Would acceptance be easy to come by or would the never-ending engine of human evolution continue its thrust with an even stronger winner-take-all philosophy?

That the loss of the individual voice in a world that’s becoming becoming bigger every second (as more webpages get indexed) is not a generational thing is now becoming entrenched in my thinking. And (rationalists you can agape at this) , that is drawing me to the personal and the familial realm more than it used to. And therefore the cycle begins to repeat itself. The resigned acceptance and turning inward is a simultaneous process, not necessarily a chicken and egg issue.


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