The Butterfly Effect

To contradict (and then support) Stephen's post, I'll say this.

As Steve said, the universe is massive. A baseball feild is gigantic to a seven-year-old, I think being able to play a show at Chicago's The Metro is fucking huge, but seven year olds and I share something, we have not been everywhere and seen everything. Just one planet away is too far away for Mankind to reach. Think of the greatest people you've ever known or heard of. Of all the astounding, momentus achievements they have under their collective belts, not one could even THINK of touching the sands of Mars.

But I digress. There is a thing called the Butterfly Effect. As an offshoot of the Chaos Theory, it states a tiny change can set off a massive reaction at a later time, encapsuled in the statement which is the gust created from a butterfly's wing flap can divert the course of a tornado on the other side of the globe.

Does this mean then, that no matter how big and intimidating the universe is, everything we do or make has a profound effect on the unyeilding cosmos? Yes, absolutely it's possible. The force of every key I hit could be causing planets to crumble in other solar systems billions of light years away.

Does this mean we matter? Not really. Even if this chaos theory is correct, we can't control what we're doing, and there's no proof either way that we're right. So we know we're creating ripples, who cares? It doesn't effect us. And if you believe in existentialism, than these galaxies that we may be creating or destroying don't even exist!


I'll leave you with this quote from one of my favorite books ever. Not a book actually, a graphic novel, and for anyone who's read it, the fact that Rorschach said this will give away the title.

"Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet move under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in the night. Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else. Existance is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl design on this morally blank world. Was Rorschach."

It's Watchmen by the way. Go read it, it's astounding.

Love, 

Dustin