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I've always been a bit of a weird combination of idealist, pragmatist, and nihilist. I'm the sort of person who thinks he understands at least a little of what it takes to make the world a better place, but always knowing that it coming to pass often requires too much cooperation from people who never learned to share as children, so hence one might say I'm an idealist. I'm also the sort of person who, realizing that the ideal is unattainable, is willing to settle for a portion. A little is better than none, or so it goes. Pragmatist. And when I ultimately see that even that very little is unlikely to transpire, I become unfortunately convinced that the only way people will ever give up their animal way of living and thinking is if some great tragedy befalls them such that what had been an exercise in cementheaded ignorance of warnings and dismissal of advice becomes a very tangible reality with the full measure of horrors contained therein.
This has gone on so long and on so many different occasions that often I find myself giving up the idealism and pragmatism and going straight to nihilism. Or as I like to call it: "taking the intellectual Autobahn to sordid reality at 205 MPH".
But, as my newly reawakened wisdom has informed me, maybe its too soon to dismiss the scenic route.
I had a moment today that could only be described as 'sublime'. I went out on my front porch at dusk. The sun had gone down and nothing was left but that reddish glow that seems to just come from everywhere.
I looked up and I saw a single cloud.
You don't really think about how odd that is until you see it and it just seems... weird. I mean, think about it, how many times do you see a single small cloud in the sky? They travel in puffy packs... or in gray sheets... or malevolent storms... or as wispy things way high up... but not a lone small stratocumulus off by its lonesome. But here it was, a lonely singleton floating along in a massive sea of atmosphere.
Just to be sure, I went out to the street and scanned the sky as far as I could in all directions, but it was true. One single cloud hanging out in an otherwise deserted sky.
To add to it, the sun, when it sets, has a habit of illuminating clouds from below, a sight which I like to call "damn special". This created a visual effect on this cloud I like to call "marvelous".
Whatever combination of wind and moisture and pressure conspired to create it conspired again to tear it asunder. In fifteen minutes the sky was bare again... the glow had ceased as though a bonfire had slowly burned down and extinguished...
I had to smile. Nature had conspired to impress me, and it succeeded. Somehow, I felt renewed.
I think that maybe I'll indulge a little of that idealism and pragmatism and leave the nihilism for another day. Certainly if nature is capable of creating sublime wonder out of such simple ingredients, maybe we, as its children, will one day be able to do the same.
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