Dаz
24> A bug's life
There was a weird atmosphere in the air this week, a forboding atmosphere that whispered promises of madness, evil and ... ooooohhhh ... bad things under your bed at night.
By Friday I was so gripped by it that all I wanted to do was get home from work, lock the doors, pull the curtains shut and prop myself up behind a mattress with a shotgun, waiting for zompires to break down the door.
It got me thinking about our purpose in the universe (not the zompires, the weird atmosphere) because let's face it, humanity's purpose surely isn't supposed to be as a zompire's luncheon.
So I thought. And I thought some more. And I came to the conclusion that, from the universe's point of view, humans serve no purpose. We contribute nothing to it. The universe itself is purposeless, it's all just stuff, whirling around, happening.
We're just creepy crawlies, slithering around on a rock somewhere in space, hoping that we don't get hit by an asteroid even as we fight amongst ourselves under the threat of weapons so powerful they could wipe us all out just as surely as an asteroid might.
We are, essentially, useless bugs (with the capability of mass nuclear destruction admittedly, but still, bugs in universe-sized terms).
This led me to thinking about my own personal ambitions and goals, and how completely inconsequential they are - since humans serve no purpose, I serve no purpose, so what's the point? We are pointless organisms with nothing to offer, sub-microscopic life that is here and gone in a blink of the universe's eye.
And that's when I got the idea for this photo, which was a big relief and made me happy again.
And then I watched something funny on Netflix and everything was alright.
The end.
Strobist info: SB700 rear centre, full power into a softbox. SB600 camera left at half power. Fired by CLS.
24> A bug's life
There was a weird atmosphere in the air this week, a forboding atmosphere that whispered promises of madness, evil and ... ooooohhhh ... bad things under your bed at night.
By Friday I was so gripped by it that all I wanted to do was get home from work, lock the doors, pull the curtains shut and prop myself up behind a mattress with a shotgun, waiting for zompires to break down the door.
It got me thinking about our purpose in the universe (not the zompires, the weird atmosphere) because let's face it, humanity's purpose surely isn't supposed to be as a zompire's luncheon.
So I thought. And I thought some more. And I came to the conclusion that, from the universe's point of view, humans serve no purpose. We contribute nothing to it. The universe itself is purposeless, it's all just stuff, whirling around, happening.
We're just creepy crawlies, slithering around on a rock somewhere in space, hoping that we don't get hit by an asteroid even as we fight amongst ourselves under the threat of weapons so powerful they could wipe us all out just as surely as an asteroid might.
We are, essentially, useless bugs (with the capability of mass nuclear destruction admittedly, but still, bugs in universe-sized terms).
This led me to thinking about my own personal ambitions and goals, and how completely inconsequential they are - since humans serve no purpose, I serve no purpose, so what's the point? We are pointless organisms with nothing to offer, sub-microscopic life that is here and gone in a blink of the universe's eye.
And that's when I got the idea for this photo, which was a big relief and made me happy again.
And then I watched something funny on Netflix and everything was alright.
The end.
Strobist info: SB700 rear centre, full power into a softbox. SB600 camera left at half power. Fired by CLS.