So, I’ll be honest with you. It’s Wednesday, April 15th, 2009. And I’m writing this because I have nothing–absolutely nothing–else that I need to be doing. Sure, sure. I have things I could be doing. Projects, coming due in the next couple weeks. Books to be read. Movies to be watched. A new copy of The Economist to be read. Emails I could send. Mario Kart races to win. Etc.
But, instead, I’m sitting next to the fireplace, listening to Lucero (who is excellent, by the by–a little dramatic, but who perfectly suits my mood), and writing this … nonsense. This drivel. This transcription of ennui. This reminder to myself of what it feels like to have a moment to myself.
Christina is out of town for the weekend. The walk has been shoveled. My room’s a mess–just how I like it.
This is likely to be the first semester of my college career that I’ve completed every assignment on time–no extensions. Heck, I’ve already completed my CS 221 assignment, due next Tuesday.
And so, I have this moment for reflection and contemplation. Truth be told, I’m not sure if it should be embraced: it seems, as of late, the secret of my happiness is busy-ness.
Socrates famously said that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” But, of course, Nietzsche aptly points out that Socrates was rabble. And rabble always has its back up against a wall.
I say: the examined life is a luxury unfit for the 21st century. I say: suppose the unexamined life is, in fact, not worth living. Does that imply that the examined life is?
In statistics, if you fail to reject the null hypothesis at a given significance level, you’ve discovered only that the null and the alternative hypothesis are both probable–not that the null hypothesis is true.
H(0): the unexamined life is not worth living
H(1): the unexamined life is worth living
And, of course, if you’re performing a hypothesis test, you’re likely using some bell-curve distribution–which Nicholas Taleb characterizes simply as “the great intellectual fraud.” The GIF. The bell curve doesn’t account for The Black Swan. And, all too often, it’s the Black Swan that determines the world we live in.
Where does that leave us?
It leaves us with the gravel-soaked, melancholy lyrics of Lucero.
There are words, sure. I don’t know what they are. It’s not the words that are important, it’s the feeling.
And on this Wednesday night, it feels just right.
Fine, fine. Here’s the lyrics, to be read aloud:
Well im a sucker for some pretty eyes
but they’re going home with some other boy tonight
hell, i guess i’ll be fine cause there’s one girl that’s all mine
she’s seen it before
she’ll see it again
cause that other girls going home with him
and come back to her and she don’t mind
she’s my best girl
…
no her eyes might not shine, she’s always by my side
hell, she’s all mine for all night
she’s my best girl by far
shes all mine for all night
and she’ll never break my heart
…
she don’t care if i come home late
or if i don’t come home after seven long days
she knows that i’m hers and she knows to wait
she knows those other girls just won’t last
she knows i’ll always come on back.. to her
she’s all that i’ve got
she’s my best girl
she’s always by my side
hell she’s all mine for all night
she’s my best girl by far
she’s all mine for all night
…
she’s always by my side
no her eyes might not shine, but at least shes all mine
And, no, the lyrics don’t fit. But the mood does. The mood does.