On Questions and Answers

I like to regard myself as an inquisitive sort of soul (which is generally perceived, possibly accurately, as a polite term for 'nosy'), and have a tendency to annoy people regularly by asking one question too many. The problem is, in an ideal world I would know everything about everything. I'm always interested to meet people who know about stuff that I don't, and like squeezing as much comprehensible information out of them as possible, but on the same note I don't like coming across as a total idiot for knowing nothing at all about a topic... I think up until now I've probably developed a fairly broad spectrum of 'interests' and need to focus in on a few.

Maybe this is a reason I've enjoyed literature at university: there is no definite answer, the more information you have on a subject the more valid your answer - this is certainly true - but ultimately, there is no right or wrong. I say that loosely because, to quote an email I sent the other day despairing the sheer stupidity of a fellow tutor, 'Anyone who thinks Keats wrote 'Autumn' to talk about Autumn is an idiot.' I enjoy the concept of an unanswerable question, one which can potentially be discussed over the period of weeks... months... resurrected years down the line with yet more angles to be peered at inquisitively, assessed, and rejected or accepted.

Questions with a precise answer are so enclosed. A door slams each time such a question is posed and responded to: the knowledge acquired can perhaps be reprocessed and used in multiple situations, but there is no delightful uncertainty or ambiguity - no potential, regrettably, for endless arguments. Four plus four is always going to equal eight, and once knowing this life moves swiftly on. But the answer to, what is the meaning of life? It has perplexed people for centuries and as yet no answer that satisfies all has been obtained. I love that scientists and philosophers are busy easing apart the same problem.

I had to ask a question today that makes even the strongest of us quake. While seeing a stupidly expensive doctor for extreme stomach-related issues that have lasted for the best part of a month now, I thought I'd make good use of the consultancy fee and bring up everything that could be discussed. And so I braced myself, swallowed the sharply quivering lump in my throat, and asked her to look at the freckles on my back. I've been given - or they've been given, whatever way it works - the All Clear, but that is one seriously scary question to have to ask, boiling down to, 'So, do I have cancer?' That is one hell of a leveller: go to a cancer ward, and you'll see people from all backgrounds sitting, waiting, an equally terrified and confused expression on their face. But ultimately, those are questions that have to be asked - and with the answer, you know where you stand. Life proceeds one way or another.

Right now, I have one of those impossible situations where I have questions to ask that I don't think I want to hear the answers to. And whatever the answers, they won't help me step this way or that. Sometimes, questions are perhaps best left unasked because one version of the answer could be too difficult to deal with - sometimes, ignorance can indeed be bliss. If a somewhat unsatisfactory version of bliss, I suppose. I guess in this instance I don't even need to ask the questions as somewhere inside I do know the answers: the writing is on the wall, it is whether I choose to read it or not.

"I am against religion because it teaches us to be satisfied with not understanding the world." (Richard Dawkins)

Coming Home...

'HongKongJane' just isn't doing it for me - there is no sense of permanency to that title...

And so, my blogging duties are being transferred back to the reinstated RantingJane. A resoundingly cheerful Hola! to all those following me across from HongKongJane, and a friendly Welcome Home to those returning to this site. Pull up a comfortable chair, dim the lights a little, put the feet up by the fireside - perhaps acquire a suitably fluffy dog to pat in absent minded fashion from time to time - and settle down for a return to serious ranting.