on replacement parts

I've just replaced all 4 brake pads on my bicycle. Fortunately, my locally-owned neighborhood bicycle shop had parts that fit the outdated hardware on my nearly 2-decade-old velocipede, which was my father's until he'd gotten too old to ride it. With the pull of a cable and the twist of a wrench, the new pieces were in place, and now my whip no longer squeaks when it stops. This simple procedure came none too soon: upon closer inspection I discovered that the old pads had worn down to the metal in places, digging into the rims, reducing the power and speed of braking, and weakening the smog-sled's crucial elements.

Strangely enough, while I was deciding whether to pair up the 2 still-serviceable pads or just buy a new set, I came across a snippet of text – whether it was in a magazine or on one of the news website I read, I cannot remember – that reminded me of the body's own replacement schedule. The text said that the human body completely replaces the skin every 3 years, the liver every 5 (or vice-versa). Having studied biology extensively while preparing for the Abitur, I was able to picture my body slowly but continuously swapping out cell after cell, cluster after cluster, until these two important organs had been fully reformed. I find it fascinating that our bodies do this without outside input and using only the foodstuffs we shove into our gaping suck-holes; I am always amazed anew at just how good this meat-sack is at keeping me healthy and my systems up and running. While sitting here in the cold and writing this, I just remembered that the body replaces the entire skeleton roughly once every 30 years, which means that few if any of the cells that make up my current body are those with which I was born. How strange it is to think that I am an altogether different person than who I was during childhood – let alone at birth – and that these differences go beyond my train-wrecked emotional state or the cruelly-stunted development of my pitiable moral tableau; as a totally different person, I find that the neuroses and hangups that seem to so strongly define many important parts of my psyche continue to exist, regardless of the fact that most of me is new – probably because some part of me wants or needs them to exist in order for it to exist.

Compared to the body's automatic replacement process, the mind tends to remain subject to the destructive and short-sighted will of the ego far longer than is normally necessary, which compels us to defend our honor, to cling to material possessions, and to do most anything in our power to win arguments so that we can pat ourselves on the back and tell ourselves that we were Right All Along. How nice it would be if we could all learn to wrangle our egos and subject them to the will of nothingness, to the doctrine of non-existence (Wu), something that rarely happens in our modern capitalist society, an artificial construct that thrives only when our egos rule our every move, always tipping the scales in their favor, forever keeping us in self-imposed slavery to petty external needs. The person seeking to shed the ego for something greater, for something worthwhile, might well find relief in the ancient books and teachings; that person is advised to steer clear of organized religion, however, which will prey ferociously upon his ego and try to kindle within his bosom the fires of fearful discontentment so as to bind him forever to the notion of Salvation From Without. As we have seen, however, and as science continues to show us, salvation from death and renewal to life begins and ends within us, and few external forces beyond a bit of food and drink can speed them up or slow them down. (Consuming drugs, including alcohol, by the way, and mistreating the body by smoking cigarettes and denying it exercise will dramatically infringe upon its ability to heal itself.) Be safe, be well, and mahalo.

© mentiri factorem fecit (場黑麥)