Never Playing it Cool

For five years I lived on the Isle of Man. A while ago this seemed like a large chunk of my life but I realise now that as I get older and succumb to the inevitable decay that is life (I know, cheery right) this period is becoming a smaller and smaller percentage of my total existence. In fact it's 15% (roughly) of my total 33 years, and that number is going to get smaller. I often find myself thinking about time in what I suppose you could call a philosophical way. Usually resulting in waves of existential dread. I think about people that used to be a huge part of my life who now years later are like strangers, who the only real acknowledgment of their continued existence I have is through Facebook. I have little to no contact with anyone I went to school with or the best friends I grew up with. I have (some of) them as Facebook friends but in no way interact with them. I do see that many of them are still friends with each other and ...

There are things in this world that baffle me but nothing so much as people's ability to stare facts straight in the face and still argue to the contrary. Okay I'll come straight out and say it, I'm talking about religion, and it could be my own atheist arrogance to presume I'm right about these things, but that's because I am. I jest of course, and fully accept that however confident I am about something there is always the possibility that I can be proven to be wrong, and often have been. Having an empirical outlook on life I find it hard to comprehend how someone can commit themselves to something that there is no evidence to support, and base their lifestyle completely on faith. Accepting what they are told or have read to be true without demanding any kind of facts or figures to back it up. If I told you I was a multi millionaire but had lost my bank card and needed to borrow a grand on the assurance that I am a multi millionaire and I'm good for...