I’ve been out of it lately, for stupid reasons that I ought to be handling better. I’m just so tired. My life has been in a state of uncertain flux for too long, and I’ve gotten way off-balance.
As I was browsing some unfamiliar blogs (great for when you’re tired but paradoxically have insomnia) this insightful post at Old English in New York grabbed me. It revisits that late-night dorm-room question: if you could live forever, would you choose to do so? Reflecting on her answer, MKH turns to the wisdom of Dr. Who.
That’s right, Dr. Who. Then The Wanderer, which always reminds me of Tolkien:
- How that time has passed away,
- dark under the cover of night,
- as if it had never been!
The comments further invoke the X-Files and Chaucer’s “Pardoner’s Tale.” I saw Highlander in there somewhere, too. And the Fall. And Rilke. Oh, what a grand and rambling tour.
Maybe we’re just hardwired genetically to reject our mortality, to strive to live beyond it no matter the cost — but there’s another side to that struggle that seems to recognize that, were it different, we would — whether in one thousand years or one billion — get tired.
Tired. I know that feeling, and I haven’t finished this life.
Yet ironically, nothing perks me up like a Dr.Who-Chaucer-X-Files mashup. So now, after soberly contemplating the entropic destruction of all I know and love, I feel much better!
And although I’d still take a bye on immortality, I could see how it might be tolerable – if one is guaranteed a very large library, and an eclectic circle of immortal friends who can, as Harriet once put it to Lord Peter Wimsey, “talk piffle.” That might be worth it.