An English In Kentucky


















March 24th  2011    Tim Candler

    The odds are, in a million years time my species will be extinct.  Some will argue that we are infinitely flexible and masters of adapting to circumstance, and that we will go on for ever, because for some reason those who argue this way think us unique. 

    We are nature's special forces, they tell me.  The SAS or the Navy Seals of  living things.  We own that 'can do' attitude where nothing is impossible. The universe, they will tell me, is our territory and because the universe is infinite, we are infinite.  So, like children, best not to think about it all too much because we are created and have been chosen by a wisdom and purpose greater than ours.

     Those who think this way are both correct and  incorrect.  But in the tapestry we are not life nor its pinnacle, we are instead one more facet of life, we are a bloom as a moment of life, and when we are gone life will continue on quite happily without us.

     It's a dilemma.  And sometimes I look at our world and I too see a wisdom, but this wisdom is unallied in anyway to us because we are young, petulant, made dumb from acne and supremely obnoxious. And this wisdom that we pray to is ancient, slow, unforgiving and not in the least gentle.  Then if  I ask the question, "what will remain of us when we are gone".  My answer today is "not much."

     Which is an improvement, because usually I think of our end as that tyrant tree in the forest falling to great applause, followed quickly by the reemergence of an Eden dominated by ticks and grasses that creep.

Previous    Next