I usually avoid sharing personal stories because I don’t want get identified. But this one really hits home, and I need an outlet to express my thoughts.
Back in pre-university, physics was my favorite subject, and I was frequently in competition with another classmate. We constantly tried to outperform each other in exams and debated advanced physics theories that were beyond our high school curriculum. It was our way of saying, “I’m smarter than you.” So, let’s call this guy Jay. He also had a strong interest in physics, and we began engaging in theoretical debates ranging from string theory to time travel.
Looking back, it’s amusing because I think neither of us knew what we were talking about; we were just using complex jargon from hefty textbooks (at that time, with 14.4Kbps modems, there wasn’t much information available online).
Jay and I would argue and debate during recesses, and even after school, we’d sit in the canteen to continue our vigorous and pointless discussions. After exchanging insults and sometimes even getting really angry with each other, Jay often asked me to give him a lift home. He lived 45 minutes in the opposite direction from my home, so our debates continued in the car. This continued throughout the entire year, and toward the end, after our final exams, we sat down one last time to argue about theoretical and nonsensical physics concepts that our young brains had conjured up.
Before we ended our final session, I scribbled a lengthy note on a few pieces of paper about an intricate physics theory I had dreamt up. I told him to keep the note because some day in the future, after I supposedly patent my invention, I was going to ask him to show me the notes again so I could say “Aha!” directly to his face while he succumbed to humiliation and acknowledged that I was the better one in physics.
Fast forward 20+ years, and occasionally Jay sends me a text message asking how I am and reminding me that he still has my notes. It’s his way of mocking me because my predictions never came true.
Our paths deviated after that. He ended up becoming an advanced engineer in Fluid Mechanics (ok, he was the better one in Physics…damn!), and I ended up selling drugs in Big Pharma. Throughout all the arguments, debates and a lot of bad feelings we had for each other, I considered him one of my best friends during that period of my life. He even shared with me about a girl that he had a crush on, and I often made fun of him, saying, “You’re a physics geek and you’ll never get the girl of your dreams!” They got married a few years later and had three beautiful kids.
Last night, a message came from his wife. Jay had succumbed to a very rare form of lung cancer just two months after his diagnosis. It was on their wedding anniversary! I didn’t even know about the diagnosis. He was 46 years old. His wife said Jay waited for her to arrive at the hospital, and she managed to say everything that she wanted to say for 15 minutes before he died shortly after.
How I long to meet my friend Jay one more time and have another argument with him. There was a time, before the invention of social media, when we could argue and disagree with each other and still love each other, and call each other friends. Social media has amplified our disagreements and turned everyone cold.
“And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another. Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many. And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold.”
Matthew 24:10-12
Signing off for now,
A17
PS: For my Christian friends, please feel free to join me on my other Substack.
Sorry for your loss.
Please do not take this as being cold, I too have recently lost a friend, though not one I have known as long as you knew Jay, but we have known for a while that eventually these excess deaths from the clot shot would begin to hit home. We must prepare ourselves mentally, emotional and spiritually for what is already underway.
Thank God she was able to be with him, so many were denied that final dignity these past 4 years.
I feel horrible for you and his family.
(sigh) ... Your anecdote is universal. I feel your loss. My mom's premature departure is probably correlated with taking a full menu of cupcakes.
My undergrad years were spent in biology, and unlike myself (distracted by the philosophical vicissitudes of life), many of my friends were good enough at standardized competition to graduate on to a comfortable career in the biological sciences, and just as comfortably retire. Not one has yet to speak out against "the science" as a psyops of the corporate nation-state and / or globalists.
One moral of the story — the quest for moral autonomy and personal authenticity is not a good business model, particularly in an economic system built on gaslight.