parable of train

you see things that are and ask 'why?' i dream of things that never were and ask 'why not?' - g b shaw

closet science lovers

my ex-wife who is as much of a closet science lover as myself, once came up with a wonderful metaphor for our journey as humanity across the endless night of history. the comparison highlighted the various roles that we all play on the stage of history and went roughly as follows.

if civilization were a train that is rushing forward through time, and we got a momentary glimpse of the cross section of the train, we could begin identifying the various people who are on it, or who might have a role in making the train go forward, and that would help us in turn to understand the various roles that people today play in our place and time.

engineers

firstly, we would see a group of serious engineers with clean white shirts and dark pants who designed the train, and the mechanics in blue oily overalls who put the train together in the first place based on the detailed designs of the serious engineers. the work of both groups is very respectable since it is very visible and everybody pays them some respect for a moment, maybe even clap. and then the clappers would return to the obsessions of their own private lives a moment later since the train is built and why dwell on it, right?

coal room

there are also guys working hard in the coal room to make sure that the fuel gets replenished, and while they should also deserve kudos, they usually never hear even a simple thank you, since they are hidden away from most people in the dark belly of the train and it is so much more convenient to pretend that they really do not exist.

brahmines of trust

you also see the bankers with their slick suits, cigars, hennessy glasses and arrogant bravado (if we are not the rulers of the universe, then who is? c'mon!) since they trust train makers (for now) and finance the ride. they unfortunately might have actually most power on the train since they could turn off the money flow immediately and the entire journey show would stop like a paralyzed patient whose circulation has been suddenly cut off.

bean counters and priests of torture

we will most certainly notice some lawyers and accountants who are usually full of pimples and wear kitsch retro style ties whil laboring over the books and contracts so that if things go down - and the lawyers always prefer that scenario since they always get paid better in this particular case, never mind about destroying dreams or project - they can start their hideous process of gestapo-style interrogation and torture with cheap tricks of double talk and intimation which they have been trained since the first year of law school.

we would see the lawyers asking the poor entrepreneur absurd, irrelevant questions. but it is too late - the poor entrepreneu had a dream and and took a risk to borrow money to follow this dream. since lawyers are highly glamorised in our times, they deserve a little closer look.

first, imagine the lawyers now litigating the poor entrprenur who had the crazy idea to start the train ride in the first place but something went amiss. now everyone watching this litigation ceremony of humiliation are pretending sympathy, while deep inside they feel glee that the entrepreneur being litigated failed in his quest. for, it seems to be in our nature to feel satisfaction over other peoples failures since it makes our own little less obvious.

the lawyers are very serious, and they only smiles once when they hears the verdict. they smile with a sight of relief when they hear the confirmation that this poor fellow's life is ruined for good since the bank will be grabbing the house and the wife and kids will be leaving him, and once the house is sold, the lawyers will be finally getting their fee. for them, it is also personal matter since all the lawyers really annoyed that no matter how hard they work, they never seems to make as much money as the entrepreneurs.
parrots of journalism

the entire show is closedly watched by the media, the ultimate parrots of mimicry and repetition. without really understanding what is unraveling in front of them, or what is the meaning of it all, the little bitter journalists are busily typing away, taking pictures and re-telling the story adding their own little gruesome and acerbic remarks. to their defence, the journalists could not possibly understand most of the things that they cover since they lack proper education apart from mediocre writing skills, so best they can do is to already repeat what everyone knows anyway.

and after the show, perhaps only some other entrepreneurs the gates, the dell and the jobs of that train world would seem visibly irritated and the would immediately agree to spend some spare change of one billion dollars so his friends would get through a week or so.

haute cuisine

to continue our observation of the train, we would all agree that we also need the chefs to prepare wonderful meals of your choice as we sit back in the restaurant carts, converse and observe the latest fashions around us, men furtively watching the astonishing-looking waitresses (this is the first class, not the coach, if you wish) who glide from table to table and seem to even walk more beautifully than most women could dance.

both men and women are making mental notes of the market value of the jewelry which is at conspicuous display of consumption on many necks, ears and hands, with slight confusion in their mind why they are spending most of their hard-earned money on metal trinklets. but it must be fine after all, since everyone is doing it.

sirens of mimicry

furthermore, we would see the musicians, artists, writers and actors to entertain us with their dramatic exaggerations and the commentary on this human train condition so that the ride would be bearable. Since can all recognize some traces of ourselves in these actors, and we can all laugh at our absurd situation and feel temporary relief from the slightly uneasy fact that we have no idea where the train is heading.

dreamers

finally, while all this is happening, you can spot one more group of people at the head of the train to tell where the train is going in the first place. they usually are not dressed in any remarkable way but invariably they seem very happy, as in a constant trance, with a slight smile on their face looking out of the window. these are the scientists. they look forward out of the train completely oblivious to the quotidian frolic unraveling behind their backs, completely enthralled by the landscape ahead and reading the signs of the landscape so they would know where to go next.

once in a while, they turn around, with agitated smiles on their faces, and as everybody is quieting down, they try to explain us what they are seeing or thinking waving their hands out of the excitement, and write a brief paper so the future generation would also have a record of their insights which change the world in a very deep and permanent way, usually for infinitely better, and will be studied for centuries to come.

when they deliver their message of the new and the unseen, part of the audience loses interest immediately and return to applying lipstick, admiring their new imitation wrist watches and start speculating whether there is desert and if so, if it is their favorite type. But there are some people who listen to the scientists and those have, will have gotten a glimpse of the future, the exciting unknown.

epilogue

'the most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed. It was the experience of mystery even if mixed with fear that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, our perceptions of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which only in their most primitive forms are accessible to our minds: it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute true religiosity. In this sense, and only this sense, I am a deeply religious man' - alebert einstein, the world as i see it (1931)