They were trying to coax me out of the entropy hole but the problem is that I’ve gotten much too comfortable there. I’ve gotten too comfortable by half…
It’s no fun when someone tries to prise you out of your entropy hole; to say that it is both agonising and terrifying at the same time is making light of it!
Terror and agony combined seems like something of a luxury when compared to the excruciating experience of being unwillngly extracted from one’s cosy little entropy hole. ‘Oh yes please’, you would say, ‘I’ll take the terror and agony combined any day!’
So lovely and cosy, so lovely and cosy. It would break your heart. Although you only really appreciate how good you had it when you’re actually being evicted. Then you know. Then you realize. When you’re not being evicted the entropy hole doesn’t seem particularly great. Not amazingly great. Certainly nothing special. If anything, it’s something you’re more or less fed up with. It’s a pain-in-the ass drag – a means to an end at best, only there never is an end. Not really…
The entropy hole is a means to an end without any end, a procedure that has no outcome, at tool that has absolutely no function. It’s a machine that doesn’t actually do anything! Obviously, this isn’t particular great, but we must all the same admit that there’s a kind of comfort in it. A kind of retrospective comfort, perhaps I should say. Comfort when you look back. But there’s also a kind of a comfort it at the time because we’re always thinking that we’re getting somewhere even though we’re not. So, if we’re cheated out of the outcome we thought we were going to get but actually never were going to get that’s a cause for regret. That’s a very big cause for regret.
That’s a sad story, isn’t it? The entropy hole story is the saddest story there ever was, eternally recycled! That strikes me as being a rather nice way of alluding to what is after all a rather abstract concept. Only it’s not sad in any meaningful way, not in any sort of real relatable way. It’s a muffled, incoherent sadness. It’s the type of sorrow that we can’t ever know about or connect with. It’s there alright – no doubt about that – but we have absolutely no way of relating to it and that turns into something else, something that isn’t entirely wholesome.
That wonderful, wonderful entropy hole! What an amazing thing it is for sure – we should all pay homage to it. The thought came to me out of the blue, and with considerable force: we should pay homage the entropy hole. I want so badly to return to it you see. I’m suffering pangs of home sickness. Nothing else interests me apart from getting back to my rotten old entropy hole. It’s a lonely old feeling that naturally gives rise to the most extraordinarily intense feelings of insatiable nostalgia.
The type of relationship that I’m talking about here is of course an addiction. Why beat about the bush – why not come out with it right at the beginning? Come clean, as it were. Man up and call it what it is. Entropy is the ultimate addiction, the addiction behind all addictions. When you’re addicted to addiction then that’s entropy you’re addicted to. I’d like it if people could understand that a bit better. I wish they could.
That’s me – addicted to addiction! It’s that feeling you see, the feeling that we’re getting somewhere when we’re not, the feeling that we are approaching the prize when there is no prize. ‘Where’s the prize lads?’ you ask, ‘when are we going to get the prize?’ You get the good feeling that something truly great is about to happen but it isn’t. You get the feeling that you’re moving in a progressive direction without having to sacrifice anything, without having to give up the things that you love. You get the feeling that you’re winning without having to make too much of an effort and what could be more addictive than that?
