What’s the Point?

Watching this British documentary about the planets of the solar system. It’s a well-made documentary and goes into detail about a lot of things and is somewhat less retarded than American made science documentaries.

But as I’m watching these people who were part of a team which managed one of the NASA space probes one thing becomes overwhelmingly salient: What’s the point?

It’s nice to have knowledge about things, but if you’re fucked up, then what’s the point? All the knowledge in the cosmos is useless if you’re a fucked-up, dysgenic mess, as is happening now. When you lose your body – when you lose its greatness then what’s the point of existing? What the point of being some vegetable or some type of disgusting advanced rat that’s capable of performing high feats on a treadmill?

In this dysfunctional society which now places so much value on credentialism at the expense of basic common sense and human decency, in which not being a fat, stupid, ugly retard is increasingly regarded as being oppressive, the triumphalism of scientific accomplishments often gets a spotlight.

But the real accomplishments are always spiritual, and if those fail, no other accomplishments matter. As Jesus said, “What shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul?”. Likewise, what profit is there in all the knowledge in the world if your planet, your country, your society, and even your own body and mind have failed and are at shit-tier?

Being triumphalist while wallowing in the slough of a shit-tier existence is like the Chinese proverb about the withered poplar that, despite being old, manages to put out blossoms, just as an old woman would take a young husband. In the end it only serves to highlight the awkwardness of the old woman’s situation.