Why why?

was involved in a debate workshop. one girl asked, if we need to think about thinking, then when's it going to end? isn't philosophy then a waste of time?

it is and it isn't. for the Singaporean mind, so set in reaching the destination, philosophy is indeed a waste of time. because philosophy is not about finding definite answers. it is a winding path of reflection and introspection, of asking ourselves why we live the way we do and how we can live our lives better. philosophy is but a journey, the 'anwers' to the philosophical questions are but signposts. which would be meaningless if we don't connect it with our lives.

but in this day and age, introspecting, reflecting about life, thinking about how we lead our lives is so passe. we are so busy making a living that we don't seem to have the time to actually live, let alone think about how and why we live.

and because a lot of us don't think of such things for ourselves, we allow other people to conjure up lies and stuff them down our throats.

we have people telling people that this short time we spend alive is but a dress-rehearsal for the afterlife, where we'll spend an eternity. and this has all been arranged by some omnipotent, omniscient entity called God. incidentally, i didn't make all that shit up. i'm not capable of such utter crap. i read it from a book that someone on the train was reading.

what surprises me and even scares me is that there are people stupid, lazy and cowardly enough to lap up such rubbish.

yes. lazy. why lazy? because only someone who is slack enough not to think critically, to not demand any rigorous proof will accept these kind of nonsense to be true.

why cowardly then? perhaps cowardly isn't the right word. it's more... fragile egotism? that we cannot accept that we are truly insignificant, that our lives are actually meaningles, that in the end, nothing really matters. but so what if nothing we do really matters in the end? why must life have a meaning to it for us to live happy lives? and i mean true happiness. not just the momentary joy that comes from seeing England win or from buying a new computer but true happiness (of which i shan't even begin to attempt to define because i think it varies and it's too big a concept to be tied down by words, limited as our human capacity, particularly mine, to put things down in words are).

so perhaps life is indeed meaningless. so what? live and let live. be happy (and i ain't no trippin' here...).

peace out.