It’s Not Steve.

The A-Z has playlist finally run its course. It’s in random mode. Today’s blog begins with “Nikita” by Elton John playing in the background.

 

It’s been an interesting week as far as medical issues go. A well-meaning case of too much information kicked off a minor panic which brought with it all the usual ponderings on the meaning of life, the existence, or not, of an afterlife and all the other obvious ponderous ponderings that come when mortality seems more imminent than usual.

 

Blogs should be fun and interesting, and I’ll try, but this one might be doomed to a place in the muck before it begins. Faith is serious business, especially to believers. To non-believers it may even more serious as alternative possibilities are limited.

 

To begin: it seems strange that some doctor’s proclamation of pending mortality should have any real meaning. If, as an example, a medical professional states that you have two years to live, does that count as a guarantee of no less than 23 months? That’s actually a better guarantee than you had before walking into the office. Should you feel cheated if after only 8 months you’ve accidentally killed yourself in a culinary accident? Concerned about that pain in your chest? Why? You’ve got 15 months remaining.

 

At this point the playlist selection: “Because You’re Young” by David Bowie. No we’re not, read the blog.

 

Praise the Lord. Really? But what is the Lord’s role in all of this? (I’m working this section on the assumption that there is a Lord.) Is it right for one to pray for a cure? To ask for a special blessing? To make a pilgrimage to Lourdes? If there is a Lord isn’t the end desire to return to his or her presence? What is the correct response that one should have for “bad” news: Thank you God? Maybe something along the lines of: “Thank you God, I’m coming home. But to be clear, I was coming home eventually anyway, and I was thinking would a delay of a decade, or two, or three, or more really be so bad? There’s so much that I’ve yet to do. And now, of course, understanding that time is limited – well, a little more time to sort it all out would be grand.”

 

The current playlist selection jumps ahead to “(Just Like)Starting Over” by John Lennon. I sometimes wish, until I realize how lucky I am to be where I am.

 

Now what about non-believers? Well, they’re dealing with what is called, for them, bad luck. As in damn that’s some Bad Luck. (As in the previous section, where I assumed there was a Lord, this section also makes an assumption: There ain’t nothing. As to where I stand on this – I’m being cagey, at least for the moment). In the Lordless-universe-view the big end is basically no more traumatic than a simple lights-out moment. Still, until the lights are actually extinguished we sure as hell like to hold on. Why, hold on to all the pain, and suffering, and sweat if we’re so sure that it’s as painless as lights out. Our memory of the day after we’re gone will be no more significant than our current recollection of the morning of April 14^th 1813 – nothing. The problem may be that while we meander towards that lights-out moment we do have a consciousness that’s at work saying things like, “Damn it, I really do like it here. I like warmth, the sunshine and skin. I think I wanna stay on for a little while longer if you don’t mind.”

 

Arrgg ugly coincidences “but what if there are no coincidences?”. The next song on the random playlist: “In My Time of Dyin’” by Bob Dylan.

 

The tweeners is probably what most of really are: We don’t really believe in a god but we don’t want to say anything that might piss him off. So while the sun shines bright we play, but when the darkness falls we’re suddenly, and sometimes sheepishly, driven to pray. “Save our souls, save our lives, protect us from evil – unless by evil you mean money, whiskey or women – but mostly just save our lives.” The problem with this approach is that if there is a Lord it is just possible that we’ve discovered the only way to really piss him off, luke-warm hypocrisy. On the other hand if there is no Lord to piss off, it’s really just pathetic.

 

The playlist marches on: “The Nazz are Blue” by the Yardbirds. I have no idea what it means but I think it’s an end to the coincidences. It’s the wrong song. The right song for this moment is “The End” by The Beatles. “And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make”.

 

It’s silly to obsess over what is ultimately inevitable. There was never a point where immortality was an earthly option. (Maybe in the time of Hercules, but that’s never really been confirmed.) As to the notion of an afterlife, I doubt there is a person who doesn’t wish it was so. I’m not about to argue all the talking points of various religions. Other websites do that, they’re usually well researched with proper footnotes, but almost universally slightly nasty. Maybe there is something in them that wishes they were wrong.

 

Final song in the totally random playlist: “Give Me Love(Give Me Peace on Earth)” by George Harrison. Does this mean that Steve Jobs is trying to provide a sign through iTunes? I doubt it. More likely it is simply me trying to ascribe meaning to a random series of songs where no meaning exists. In any event, in spite of what has been suggested by some of the articles I’ve read in the last year, and with no dis-respect, I don’t think it is Steve.