The Paradox of the Dancing Lunatic

Post LVIII

People often call me weird. I find solutions to problems I’ve probably made up. The solutions are often crazy but there’s a burning sense that perhaps the craziest solution is often the right one. Occam’s Razor, eat your heart out. I read somewhere a long time ago about people being able to hack your webcam and spy on you without you knowing. Even if the webcam is turned off. Well, when I got my latest laptop with a built-in webcam, I immediately set about a practical solution. What I did, see, was fold a tiny bit of toilet paper a couple of times over, and tape it to the computer on either side of the webcam. Thus covering it. I never use it, anyway. The webcam. Not the toilet pa – yes, you get the point. Now it doesn’t matter if the webcam is hacked. They can’t see me. Ha, ha, ha.

I was born on the 200th day of the year. The date of July 19 is an important one throughout history. The Salem Witch Trials. The launch of SS Great Britain. The first Wimbledon tennis championship. The first nuclear rocket fired. Brian May born. The Beatles had a number one hit with ‘All You Need Is Love’. But, trumping them all, without a shadow of doubt, is Richard Nixon opening a library in California. Actually on the day I was born. Oh how I would have loved to have been there. It sounds so fun.

This time last year, I was here wondering where I’d be that time this year. I knew exactly where I’d be that time this year. Writing this. Just a guess. Not like I went back in time to this point last year and gave that me information on where this me would be, so that when that me arrived at now and became this me, I would know that for this me to know what I know about now, I’d have to travel back in time to this point last year to give that me the information that I now possess. Thus creating an endless loop with no beginning, which raises the issue of where did I possess the knowledge in the first place if the only way that me could know the knowledge is if this me gave it to that me, meaning this me’s knowledge is entirely dependent on that me knowing knowledge that only this me could know if that me knew it. There’s no beginning, people!

It’s an idea I’m working on for a story, and I’m intrigued to see how many of you are still following. Science? Pah! It’s easy. Come to me for your scientific needs. We Italians are great at it. It’s the best kind of deal because whilst you read over our report of our findings about your scientific needs, you can enjoy some really amazing pasta.

All this aside, there was another birthday to think about this week.

The week started at the beginning of the week. My week was yet another dull affair, with hopes of babysitting enlivening it. Sadly, he was playing with his dad and the next thing you know, he’s in hospital having an x-ray done on his left arm. He has fluid in his elbow and he’s dislocated something, but he’s only two, and he’s really depressed because he can’t do anything. Breaks your heart to see him so sad, especially considering he never stops smiling. Poor thing. As a result, we can’t look after him for a few weeks. That’s gonna make this blog even MORE interesting, believe me.

As a result, my Thursday was instead taken up by a trip to the pub for dinner for dad’s birthday. It was going to be on Sunday gone, on his actual birthday, but it was the Wimbledon final and we couldn’t separate mum from the TV. You’d have more luck trying to save a hooker.

I felt lucky as I was enjoying the nice dinner. The severe persistent rain has flooded parts of almost every settlement here in the northeast of England. Thankfully, apart from one of our parks, the flooding has left my hometown of Middlesbrough alone. Despite this and the month of July being full of celebration for me and my family, I haven’t forgotten about those affected by the floods, and they are in my thoughts. They’ll be fine. They’re northerners. Made of steel.

So what of my birthday this coming week? Well, I’m a year older. 22. My God. I’m ancient. But I am happy. And healthy. I have my family and, in the coming weeks, I’ll become an uncle for the first time. It’s all I need. Well, that and a good joke to end this post on. Hmm. Nope, I don’t have one. Sorry about that.

“And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years”, said Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865).

Peace Out :|:

Notice: This blog look and content has been revised and reworked slightly. Different layouts and colour schemes – minor changes I hope you’ll like. Changes apply to almost every page, so maybe you could check it out if you’re not busy. My second and third sites will have similar changes soon.

(I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. To do so, you can leave a comment by pressing the bubble on the top right of this post and scroll to the bottom of the new page to where it says ‘leave a reply’. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks)

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4 comments

  1. I’m guessing the beginning is only as far as our memories take us, but I like the idea of a never ending loop, like a beginning before the beginning. Problem is the more you think about it the more confused you get. Whose to say the end isn’t just the beginning reoccurring infinitely.

    • My point was incredibly convoluted, but I agree, thinking outside the box when it comes to time is a wonderful source of confusion.

      In the paragraph in the post, I was referring to the Bootstrap Paradox, and how confusing it and non-linear ways of thinking are. It’s a really interesting paradox.

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