Incomplete Humans

Stress day closes, at a rate of one second per second. Diversion now made difficult by the continual presence of FD SCP. But still today and tomorrow of gym.

On which note, very sparse today. Only one weight bouncer an he the good one. As in not a bully. In fact the population was almost limited to the aged, the lame, and the obese. But the podcasts were diverting.

The most memorable of these was the Guardian podcast which featured a discourse by the (THE?) Canadian astronaut Mark Hatfield on being an astronaut. It was not without some meaning.

His basic message was if you aren’t the best at doing space stuff, don’t bother. And of course, he is quite good at doing space stuff.

I should comment that I grew up with the whole astronaut craze. I well recall getting "We Seven" as a christmas present. It convinced me I never wanted to be an astronaut. And I never considered it after that.

Incidentally, astronaut basically means sky sailor which probably explains why I lack interest. Being a sailor is hard and not, to my view, very much fun. It’s not about thinking and understanding reality and being creative. It’s about staying alive and going somewhere in a dangerous environment that is ill suited to humans.

Not that I wouldn’t like to go space traveling but not with several thousand year old technology, dire physiological (and mental?) degradation, and too d*** long.

But his talk did put me into thinking about celebrities since he is one and I don’t really care. Coupled in with a podcast about altruism and biology it occurs that celebrities exist because people are incomplete. All of us lack something. We are never completely satisfied with our lives. Some of us are so unsatisfied we would change in an instant if offered. I harbor the delusion (?) that most of the latter dislike their jobs and the lives they have to live thereby.

So they need a golden calf.

I have had people I admire. Most of them are other nerds, some were even extros. (Being an astronaut is an extro thing.) But I see no reason to admire people because they act or dance or have more money or get seen a lot. But after thinking, now I do. To quote POTUS #16, "As would not be a slave, neither would I be a master.) which is the best argument against slavery I have ever heard. Just so, as I would not be an admirer (slave) of celebrity so I would not be a celebrity (slave of admirers?) And thus I should at least acknowledge that they divert attention away from me.

So I am made more satisfied with my life thereby. And I still have no desire to be an astronaut.