(Repost) On The Significance Of 12/12/12

Well, yesterday I posted a note on why 12/12 will have no particular
significance, even for me, as I will not be self-immolating as I
scheduled myself to do a year ago if I was making no progress
at “getting the word out.”

I’m writing these posts ahead of time, and scheduling their posting a
week or two in advance.  In particular, it had not occurred to me
prior to scheduling yesterday’s post that there was a peculiar novelty
to the date 12/12/12.

Such coincidence of our cultural interpretations of significance and
actual events such as self-immolations is not something to which I usually pay
any attention.

But the coincidence of my having designated it as the deadline for
a dramatic and desperate expression of my frustration is harder to ignore.

I just googled “doomsday scenarios” and got who knows how many hits
with elaborate essays on various views of the end of the world, many
with religious and/or alien slants, but very few blogs or other types
of interactive forums.

So, wanting, like all the authors who wrote all those essays, to put
forth my own ideas on the subject-not to read someone else’s poorly
written harebrained ramblings-I did the search again with the word
“blogs” added.  That time I got all kinds of discussions dealing with
the potential demise of a country, bank, or economic system.  In other
words, an entirely non-doomsdayish interpretation of “doomsday.”

So I guess you either think of doomsday on myopic scales or attribute
any real doomsday phenomena to superhuman forces.

Which is not so bizarre, when you come to think on it.  Real doomsday
is too frightening for most of us to think about at all, so we either
wax religious or pseudo-religious when the topic comes up, or we
think of something which twists the real doomsday into something much
easier to get our head around.

Yet both searches had a lot of hits, even by internet standards, so the
idea seems to be a common theme.

What is the cause of so much popular support for either of these types of doomsday scenarios?  I wonder.

But I digress.  This started with the odd coincidence of the date I’d
picked as an actual deadline to be hung over my head with what many will think of as a significant aligning of three double digit numbers. My original thought was
that, by establishing a deadline, I’d enhance my chances of avoiding
getting trapped by seizing up prior to having success at getting the
word out.

The idea was that I don’t want to be in the position of having
missed my last opportunity to call attention to the problem and its only solution by having slipped over the “seized up” barrier.

But, as I write this, I realize how selfish this all sounds to me now.  The whole idea of
avoiding the agony of being alive yet helpless in forming solutions, seems directed at my concerns–my comfort-my legacy-my,  my,  my!  So maybe self-immolation wouldn’t be so bad.

On the other hand, much of this internal debate on whether I should go up in smoke is probably driven by my abhorrence of doing it.  For one thing, many people don’t die immediately after self-immolation.  So it’s got to be a less than ideal way to go.

I’m frequently trying to tell people I’m not suicidal in the usual sense.  With mixed
success, by the way.

And, perhaps, that’s at the heart of my conflict.  You see, I’ve a
strict prohibition against “quitting early.”  That, alone, has stymied
suicidal thinking several times while I was wrestling with depression
associated with drugs I was taking for M.S.

Yet I’ve also got an imperative to do everything I can–even including
self sacrifice–to the end of preventing our killing Gaia.  It’s my main persistent argument for striking the match.

The real puzzle is “which is it this time?”  Mere drama, or true martyrdom?  Well, martrydom is like running up a flag:  It all depends on whether anyone salutes.  For now, it seems pretty likely the main audience would regard it as more hysterical that noble.

I just hope I don’t wake up tomorrow lying in a conscious coma through no act of my own, save having gotten one day older.  Or, just as bad, dead, but with certain knowledge that I died too soon (which, I realize, implies a pretty basic level of belief in an afterlife).

AAAAAGGGGGHHH.  Too much thinking!

Got to go, now, before I wind up killing myself.

For no good reason.

Or maybe not.


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