What is good and what is evil?

Good and evil are purely human inventions from a species that feels compelled to try to ascribe sense and morality to the universe-at-large when the universe-at-large is amoral and uncaring. Trying to live by a code of good and evil is therefore an exercise in futility.

This is not to say that the labels of 'good' and 'evil' are entirely subjective, since so much of humanity tends to think the same way, but simply that the universe as it exists beyond what we can perceive and whitewash with our own standards does not care. And so, more to the point, the last things that a true scientist should be concerned with are the spinnings and trappings of culture-dependent ethics and morals.

As a scientist, my work reflects what is, not what we wish for. The body is a machine, dependent on chemical energy. At death, the machine stops working, but I have found a way to revive it. That is what is.

I'll let Dan worry about whether my actions or my discovery qualify as either 'good' or 'evil' as humanity currently understands the concepts.

(I let this journal go for a really long time. Now I'm just picking and choosing from the previous Theatrical Muse topics. Why not?)
  • Current Mood
    contemplative contemplative

The five senses. Which would be the worst one for you to lose, and why?

Daniel suggested (rather sarcastically, I felt) that it would be a shame if I lost my sense of humor.

But the true answer is, obviously, sight. While all of the senses have varying degrees of import to a doctor—or a chemist, for that matter—it is sight that I would most sorely miss. So much of my research is dependant upon visual observation, upon seeing the effects (and occasional aftereffects) of my reagent. I believe I could cheerfully lose the lesser four of my senses and continue happily, albeit considerably less aware of the distractions of my environment.

Which, when I think about it, does not seem too terrible a way to spend one’s lifetime. After all, famous composers throughout the centuries have been undaunted by what should be, by all rights, a death sentence for their careers: the onset of hearing-impairment. However, instead of giving up their life’s work as lesser men might when faced with such a prospect, they went on to write some of the greatest music the human race has ever known. And why?

Because they could no longer be distracted by the superfluous cacophony of the outside world, and for the first time could hear their music clearly within the confines of their own heads.
  • Current Mood

What is your favorite daydream, and why?

Title: Detention
Word count: 914
Rating: PG-13 ... oh, I was trying so hard for an R rating, really, I swear
Summary: Herbert assumes that obsession is love, has an internal jealousy-induced hissy fit, and Dan is kind of oblivious to just about everything. As usual.
Note: The daydream is really implied here, so you can infer for yourself (and anything you can come up with is probably worse than I could have written). This is about as pretentiously esoteric and metaphysical as I can get.

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  • Current Mood
    blah blah

What's your favorite guilty indulgence?

This requires some explanation, I believe. My associate, Daniel, can be a bit… how should I put this? He often allows himself to become too emotionally involved in our work. He hasn’t learned to put emotional reactions on a back burner, particularly during an emergency. Thus, when Daniel’s emotional capacities are stretched to the breaking point, he generally goes into shock and becomes completely useless.

Now, this can be inconvenient and, I suppose, unpleasant for Daniel. But I have to admit that I enjoy those times, as much as they can be enjoyed. Most humans, I imagine, may obtain a sense of control from someone else’s powerlessness. In an unresponsive state, he never questions me. I never have to convince him of the usefulness of our task, or of how much better off he is in our laboratory than out with some tart who can see only his good looks and his degree, and not the true potential that I see. It doesn’t matter how much taller, heavier, stronger he is than me; I am unequivocally the leader, the person with the answers. I do not have to hope that he will not argue with me in a manner that I cannot refute; I do not have to worry that he will finally keep his promise to break our partnership, leaving me sans assistant.

Those brief periods when he is incapacitated offer me a rare sense of true… security, I suppose. But, to reach that security, Daniel has to suffer a tremendous amount. I admit it does leave me feeling somewhat guilty at times. It is quite the guilty indulgence to enjoy the suffering of one of the few human beings on this Earth that I find tolerable.
  • Current Music
    Bob Dylan - Subterranean Homesick Blues (Daniel's, not mine)

How did you lose your virginity?

Virginity. Ha! What an antiquated notion. Sexual antics are a necessity for reproduction and one’s first time engaging in something that every living thing does is not cause for note or celebration. It means nothing in terms of “coming of age.” There’s nothing “special” about it.

My associate, Daniel, is smirking at me. No, perhaps it’s more of a leer. I’m sure he takes my attitude as definitive proof that I have not “lost my virginity,” as it was so crudely put. He, of course, could probably quote you a date, time, name, and home phone number of the person to whom he lost his.

Lost. Ha. As if we had simply misplaced it and are making a valiant effort to retrieve our innocence. Well, Dan is guided by his hormones, turned easily by firm breasts, smooth skin, and soft hair; thus, he is not to be trusted. He was going to marry Megan, after all. I am, naturally, above something so petty. I feel no need to sleep beside another warm body, to feel false and ephemeral comfort in the arms of another, to relent to a biology that I will soon make obsolete. And I feel no need to glorify it as others do, as there is little glory or appeal in the fumblings of children thrust together through violence and circumstance.

If anything, my virginity was lost to me the first time I inserted the tip of a needle beneath malleable folds of excess skin, pushed to the stiffer muscle below, depressed the stopper, and watched my life’s purpose take its first painful breath beneath my hands. Birth is so much more memorable and stimulating than orgasm.
  • Current Mood
    frustrated frustrated

What's more important - self preservation or forgiveness?

Self-preservation, naturally. Hah… forgiveness. Such a sentimental concept. No, the self is more important than amicable lies. There are, after all, some things not entirely worthy of forgiveness; of course, I generally find all apologies to be a waste of breath

Although it wouldn’t hurt if Daniel could exercise a little forgiveness, since I’m sure he’s fairly keen on the subject. After all, the deaths of his various romantic entanglements were accidents not my fault in the least. Besides, he’s better off with me.
  • Current Mood
    bitchy bitchy

Tsk, tsk...

Is there ever a good reason to get blinding drunk?

For myself? No. I prefer to keep my mind clear, as a loss of control of any of my various mental capabilities or good sense could lead to... well, interesting things, I suppose. Of an experimental nature. Such as... oh, I don't know... a little creature with fingers for legs? Or perhaps a dog with the arm and hand of a human being? Actually, those aren't bad ideas... hmmm... Daniel, why are you crossinnnn

As a doctor, I also advise against drinking in excess, though it certainly is a good thing for me that the majority of the rest of the world does not. I doubt we'd have many patients if all of the drunks in the world suddenly became teetotalers. Ha!

Though, as has been pointed out, there are sometimes very good reasons for getting others as drunken as possible. More champagne, Daniel?
  • Current Mood
    amused amused

"Three Days Late," Herbert/Dan, a sad attempt at Christmas!smarm...

Title: Three Days Late
Rating: PG
Length: 616 words
Notes: For glorybox, seeing as she requested Herbert/Dan, though I doubt this is what she had in mind. Dear god, humor. But it was the only idea making itself known, sooooooo... And, yes, this was supposed to be 100-500 words. It's... not. It just kept going. Is that a bad thing?

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  • Current Music
    Arlo Guthrie - City of New Orleans