On the occasion of my marriage

So I do not consider myself the marrying kind, yet here I am, married for the second time. How does that work?

Well, in the first place, when asking yourself why I did something, never discount sheer perversity. I am a born contrarian and I've never liked the idea much of being readily labelled. And I don't even really pretend to do principles. I am just who I am. I'm not honest because I think honesty is the best thing in human relationships, although I do think that. I'm honest just because I am. I'm not a leftist because I made a scientific study of what is best in politics and economics, although I do believe our way works out better on the whole. I am a leftist because I feel people matter. Mostly.

I've always believed you should not sacrifice the real for the abstract When I read that someone "died for their country", I tend to feel they're a damned fool because now they're dead. Especially when they have kids, wives, people who love them. How can a country matter more than them?

So I think some things matter but not as much as some people insist on pretending they do. Fools kill each other for disagreeing over what they believe and not even for those beliefs' practical consequences.

More importantly though, I am married because I am an existentialist of sorts, and I fear that once you accept the absurdity of human existence, you are ever a couple of steps from nihilism.

And nihilism is just another word for despair, let's not kid ourselves.

So maybe it is a little bit ridiculous to believe that love is a rope dangled over the edge of the abyss, which you can cling to and use to haul yourself out. But I do. I believe it is our consolation, our reward if you like. Even if we one day resolve the mystery of love, reduce it to chemicals like everything else, I will not care. I mean, you can figure out why coffee smells a particular way and maybe we will one day find that neurotransmitters are released in this way or that when we smell it, but none of that will ever quite capture the reality of the promise, the anticipation, the joy of fresh coffee.

So love matters. Ally matters. And I want to defy the absurd universe and show she matters. Not show her really. Not show you at all, since I've not cared a lot what you think for a long time now. Show me, myself.

posted by Dr Zen @ 5:32 pm