It’s day 17 of the rewrites.
I lost all the contents of my Chrome browser Writespace extension. It could be the recent Bleachbit update I ran on temporary files. Or it could be the recent Chrome update. Google announced it will sunset the app extension feature used by Writespace. Who likes ephemerality now?
That out of the way, I don’t know whether I should agree or disagree with what I wrote yesterday. But that is not new and it doesn’t matter.
We are nature. There is no meaning. As parts of nature we are collections of information formed in random. Yet masses of anything tend to attract more. But as collections of information grow, not all new information add with ease. The shapes of both the collection and the incoming information have to fit. So the collection moves to orient itself or manipulates the new information or both. The act of doing so bequeaths the collection value to itself as a self. As a consequence of that, it is then able to ascribe meaning to new information nearby.
Next time I read the paragraph above I will laugh at how stupid it is. But for now, I cherish having another stab at clawing against the surface of oneself with words. Many people cannot afford to think about such a meaningless topic as the meaning of meaning. At the time I am writing this, half a million fled their homes due to volcanic ashfall. We are nature.
Enough for today.
I was wrong. It still makes sense. I did not laugh.