I want to thank everyone who have taken the time to read through at least one of the posts on this blog. I especially want to thank those who chose to comment. I've been surprised by how mature and concise some of your responses have been. I'll admit I was expecting comments that looked more like, "Come to Georgia!" and, "How did you guys get signed?"
As it turns out, those of you who follow along seem to be a solid group of thinkers, and I'm humbled and inspired by that. Thank you for challenging me and in turn (I hope) allowing yourself to be challenged. This blog is lucky to be a microscopic blip on the radar of the greater blogosphere, but I love it and I wouldn't mind if it stayed that way.
Excuse me while I work something out for myself. I may go off on a bit of a tangent here...
I am not an Albert Einstien or an Isaac Newton. I may have scored a 137 on an online IQ test once, but I doubt that certifies me as a genius. And even if I was a genius, I've spent most of my life dumbing my brain down, numbing it with whatever comes my way, trying to render it useless. I guess I'm about as inquisitive as the next guy, but I couldnt imagine the Theory of Relativity or Space-time, and I couldn't even read Principia, let alone imagine it. When I learn about the true mad geniuses and scientists, those who were blessed with the types of minds which can explain the interconnectedness of creation, I am saddened that my life has been as futile as it's been at times. I am saddened by how narrow and unmotivated I've been. By how unimaginative, unappreciative, and selfish I've been.
Imagine a guy like Newton, who upon swinging his feet out of bed in the morning he would reportedly sometimes sit for hours, immobilized by the sudden rush of thoughts to his head. He was strange, solitary, distracted and otherwise joyless, but he was completely fascinated by creation. Imagine Einstein, with such a noggin that he rarely wrote things down. He essentially thought up the Theory of Relativity without using a notebook. His paper called "On the Electrodynamics of Moving Bodies," published in 1905, is incredible because it contains no citations or footnotes, almost no mathematics, and made no mention of any work that had influenced it. He essentially just thought it all up.
These guys must have lived each day in sheer wonder and amazement of everything around them. We take for granted the air we breathe, the veins and nerves and blood cells and organs that work tirelessly day after day without so much as a thought on our behalf. Isn't that crazy? We don't even need to pay attention to it and our heart pumps blood, sometimes for over a century straight. My heart, the relentless servant of an abusive and thankless master. I guess most of this stuff could be for another post.
I think the point of all of this rambling is that it's taken me 25 years to realize that I'm pretty much a normal guy. I used to think I was different, but the truth is I'm not that different. I'm not too tortured an artist or too deep a thinker to lack the ability to relate or function in society. I'm not going to stick a long leather stitching needle in my eye socket to "see what happens" (as Newton once did). I have questions like everyone else, but like most people I resort to seeking peace of mind through conversation and community.
I think we've had some great conversations since this thing started, and I hope to have many more with all of you.