John: Hello Silver Whale. As I'm sure you realize, you're about to drown.
Silver whale: That's a surprisingly casual way of putting that.
John: Well I assume you're as resolved to the possibility as your brothers were.
Silver whale: My brothers and I never really saw eye-to-eye on that subject. They acted like nothing matters because life is temporary. Of course life is temporary--that's why ALL of this matters.
John: I'm not sure that that's what they meant. I think they just prefered not to spend their last minutes on earth struggling against the inevitable.
Silver whale: Yeah, I know, and hell maybe they're right. Maybe this is all a pointless rat race and the only sensablie thing to do is give up. I know this is a simplistic thing to say, but somehow that just doesn't feel true to me. I don't see how anyone could believe that.
John: Your brothers managed.
Silver whale: Right, but they were just two individuals, I'm talking about the world as a whole. The point is, fatalism as a school of thought has a very low survival value. So if it ever managed to take root in some society, that society would just die off before the belief could spread.
John: Unless it spread really fast. There's nothing preventing that--a simultaneous global conciousness shift.
Silver whale: You're right, there's nothing inate about our minds that locks out ideas which kill us--if nothing else we learned that from the land dwellers. But the fact that we're even still here at all should tell you something. It should tell you that we're at least slightly predisposed to ideas that make life beautiful. Culture is sort of self correcting that way. If an idea results in too much misery, it either kills it's host or dies itself. Maybe one day I'll be proven wrong, but I doubt it. If our shared history teaches us anything, it is this:
Life finds a way.