Finding Everyday Inspiration: Humans Have It the Worst

13 comments

Part of WordPress’s writing course Finding Everyday Inspiration.

In case you didn’t know, I’m a serious overachiever. I usually apply myself to overachieve in areas where overachieving is worthless. In keeping with this admirable principle, I’m currently publishing my n-th post in a 20-day writing challenge series, where n equals a lot and certainly more than 20.

As I’m talking about equations, I’m sooo sorely tempted to throw in some JavaScript. Not to do something useful (see my overachieving principle above), but to practise and pleasure myself (please myself? I’m looking for a word which suggests a pleasure practically perverse.)

A JavaScript Digression

I’m learning coding for the kick out of it. While I do hope to use what I learn, I can hardly hope for it. So, third time the charm, we’re back to my twisted overachieving principle. I’ve done HTML and CSS and am now tackling JavaScript. So far the best high. Let me quickly state in code that I’m an idiot.

let overachieve = true;
overachieve ? console.log('Mara sucks.') : console.log('Not happening.');

Don’t be alarmed. The above is pretty straightforward. It says that if the overachieve principle is true, then Mara sucks, but if it’s not true, then I don’t know what because it’s not happening. What’s the practical purpose of this? Absolutely none. See what I mean?

Why Humans Have It the Worst

The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
          Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
          For promis’d joy!
—Rabbie Burns (obviously)

Before succumbing to the dubious delirious delights of JavaScript, I was about to respond to a blogging challenge. You’d never have guessed, right? My overachieving here lies in my ambition to tackle every single suggestion what to blog about that I received from my readers (who are apparently also overachieving).

The prompt by Brett of the oh awesome O’ Canada blog is pretty poetic and tickles my literary strings (if strings can be tickled. Also: I just used an if conditional, are you terrified that I’m going to write in code again? Ha! Gotcha. I won’t. But I have to be literally restraining myself. With strings.) Here’s the prompt:

The way ants and other wild creatures go about their daily activities to survive . . . the light breeze causing a wind chime to tinkle . . . a peculiar word . . . the intricacies exhibited by a simple tree leaf . . .

A relevant photo of a leaf!

Ants and mice and lice have it pretty good. They go about their business and have no clue. Humans, sadly, have feeeelings (misspelling deliberate for a dramatic effect). Even worse, they have awareness (not to be confused with mindfulness, which effectively blunts awareness and tones downs feeeelings, hence it’s a good thing).

To circle back to Burns’s poem from which I quoted above: the speaker, careless bastard, ruins a mouses’s nest as he is ploughing a field and instead of saying sorry to the poor rodent (and supplying a replacement nest), he concludes that the mouse has it bad but he has it worse because the mouse doesn’t have awareness while he does.

Now I want to cry (which, ultimately, might be better for you than when I wanted to code). Which brings us to the question of the leaf (don’t ask me how, it just does because I say so). I’m gradually becoming wrinkly, crinkly and creased like said leaf. And like said leaf, I’ll soon drop dead (especially if I’m not going to quit smoking). What a prospect.

The trouble is not being dead, obviously, the trouble is the process. While I have no first-hand previous experience of it that I’d remember, judging from the state of the leaf, it’s not going to be nice. Plus, we need to add in the Burns factor: the leaf doesn’t know it’s about to drop dead from the tree, but the human does.

Are you depressed yet? I am for one. I should’ve just copied and pasted good old (and dead) Burns in response to this prompt, which had so much potential for loveliness before I ruined it. To unruin it a little, here’s the classic conclusion of Burns’s poem. You can’t go wrong with quoting someone better.

Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
          On prospects drear!
An’ forward tho’ I canna see,
          I guess an’ fear!
Advertisements

13 comments on “Finding Everyday Inspiration: Humans Have It the Worst”

  1. Oh dear Mara, I am worried about you ! Meddling and muddling Java script, Burns and challenges an’ mice an’ leaves an’ stuff. No wonder you want to cry. Next time, try keeping it simple if you can 🙂

    Like

    1. My mind is a terrible mess, but no need to worry, at least I’m keeping myself entertained, right? It’s a very mixed post, you’re right, I sometimes wonder myself how on earth I come up with all these free associations that make no sense! I will keep your sensible advice in mind. Keep it simple.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I like this post – so there!
    If you’d stuck purely with Burns I’d have got bored – and irritated with the miserable old sod. My mum used to quote that poem to me, always in a tongue-in-cheek way. I didn’t know what it was about until now. No wonder my mum despised the sentiments. She wasn’t keen on self-pity and negativity.

    Like

    1. Your mum was wise not to indulge in self-pity and negativity! Burns is Burns (stating the obvious in the form of a tautology). I don’t necessarily identify with all his sentiments but it’s one of the few classics I quite enjoy. Mostly because of his language. And thank you for your kind words about my somewhat mixed up post!

      Liked by 1 person

You were saying?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s