I've just started reading this book called "Ghosts of Vesuvius" by Charles Pellegrino. It has already had a profound impact on my thinking. The book seamlessly weaves philosophy, geology, physics, bible-study and history into a brilliant tapestry of enlightenment. The books' premise hovers around the theory that volcanic activity is the prime mover of life on our planet. He likens volcanoes to the Hindu gods Brahma as the Creator, Siva as the Destroyer and Vishnu as the Preserver. He uses volcanic eruptions throughout history (Jurassic to B.C. 1750 to Mount Vesuvius in A.D. 79 up to Tombra in A.D. 1815) to illustrate his theory on how when you measure humanity against the vast reaches of our earths' history, as well as that of our solar system, you come to the realization that for all practical purposes, life is meaningless.

This argument obviously excludes religion and faith as human endeavors. For if you believe that what you do in your life dictates where you end up in the afterlife, you would never believe that life, especially your own, could be meaningless.

But is the meaning of your life truly what dictates your final destination.. or is it the point of your life which serves this purpose? Is it possible for life to have 'a point', but no meaning....?

And if you come to the conclusion that life indeed has a point as well as, perhaps, a meaning... How does life in general measure up? Does the sum of all of our lives form an aggregate by which we can say that life, our very humanity, truly stands the test of time. Are we really so confident in our supremacy as human beings as to say that the combined efforts of our human existence outweigh the might of nature?

Human existence has been wiped out, as in humans have been very near to extinction, numerous times throughout our 'memorable' history. The most obvious and, fresh-in-our-memory, example of this is the story of Noah and the flood. But this was not an isolated phenomenon by any means. Life on earth has been nearly wiped out many more times than that. Ice-ages come, ice-ages go. Asteroids collide with the earth and wipe out what was, then, the most dominant species on the planet. It's happened before, it's bound to happen again. It's simply a matter of 'when'.

This realization almost demands a pause for reflection. For if we, as humans, can come to the conviction that the lives of Ben Franklin, Mark Twain, Leonardo DaVinci, Osiris, Viracocha... If we can truly believe that the combined worth of these men disintergrates when placed against the expanse of the universe, then what of the lives of lesser men?? What, of you and me? How do we compare?

And if our lives truly are meaningless, then why dream? why strive? why desire?...

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SO, here's my question to you, my fellow bloggers... If you came to believe that the human existence starts, flourishes and, ultimately, falls whilst an uncaring, immovable galaxy rages on all around it... How would you feel?... Insignificant? Triumphant?... Unmoved?.......

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You get what you want, does it matter where you get it from?

-Layla

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