Everything is biologically useful in some capacity. Extravagant plumage is an indication of genetic and reproductive health. It means that movement of molecules can persist in ways that are desirable for your blend.
Everything...wait...what?
When I hear music from humans it seems to have an entirely different role. Sometimes it means nothing. Not everyone sings to assert their craft, although some people make it a competition. I remember my freshman year talking to Dan about being a math major because everything he does can be reduced to the need for harmonic precision. 4 beats in a measure, octaves, the resonant frequencies of pitch, and tempo are all factors in the blend. It transfers emotions into an action.
Last night I went to dance to it. At the beginning I was apprehensive. Looking to create some social connections that would benefit me in some way. Then, after not so many drinks, I lost it. The neurotic inability to convene with the infinite moment just left much quicker than it came.
I jumped, clapped, yelled, and moved in precise and extravagant ways to the music.
My love of Ratatat came up quick when Janee heard the song "pursuit of happiness" and made a remark about the guitar part. Soon enough I was lifting weights and listening to them. It is my moment of corporal indulgence. That rhythmic sexual nature of the repetitive male action just takes over. Weightlifting was my logical meditation
It seems like I've found another dichotomy, or trichotomy...rather, to exploit. I feel like I have my finger on something that's been operating on me a long time.
I've always heard people discuss "mind, body, and soul." A part of me disdains the third element and seeks to rationalize it away. The desire for immortality is a compensation of our increased intellectual capacities. Without this insane ability to contemplate we would not have consented to such irrationality. Around the soul we make myths and legends that affect our behavior in the strangest ways.
The "sun dance" was a ritual where a certain native American tribe would perform. They would drive forks into their chests and tie them with strings. Then they would sway and chant.
Christians stand around and drink wine and bread and imagine they're eating an ancient person to cleanse them.
Muslims don't eat pork and associate women without headscarves with prostitution.
Jew light candles and give each other shit.
Christmas has become something I can explain: power dynamics.
However, my point is that I associated the notion of the soul with irrationality. That little break in the desire to discover. Dispassion for knowledge...they want to just reside in a state of not knowing.
Last night I kind of broke it up a little bit. Dancing with no intent of being perceived was something refreshing.
I am entertaining the idea that I might have a soul. Relaxing or stressing myself physically or mentally are regular activities. Maybe dancing and putting myself into a state of not-caring not-knowing is a synergy that I needed.
Maybe my soul is really telling my mind "back the fuck off." All 3 parts should agree about that. Usually they get along. Except on all nighters when the mind tells the body "shove it...we're staying up."
Maybe again tonight. Probably not.
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