in pursuit of god

First of all, to the fanatics, pardon my lower-casely treatment to the word 'god'. I have been wanting to voice this opinion for the longest time but remember the shrink's reward theory. Tonight, I am rewarding myself with a couple(?) glasses of Riserva 2003 Chianti wine, nothing spectacular to write home about , but nevertheless, a reward from nature's ample bosoms. :)

I think, mankind, the kind that have evolved so far, should stop wasting time in the pursuit of 'god' or to origins of our wondrous universe. I would like to decry the countless resources, time in particluar, spent by the physicists, philosophers(the armchair variety too), spiritualists and the ilk, for this meaningless pursuit.
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For simply one reason: we are not that evolved yet. Period. We need to accept that we are either, not that intelligent, as we think we are, or we are not ready.

Instead, I preach(me being the worst student), that we simply enjoy our fragile existences and help our brethren handle theirs with care too.

The way: Love, contentment, no one-upmanship.

For this, do you think we need to bring 'god' into the picture?

cooking, what is that?

I recently spotted this item at a local Trader Joe's. Fresh peeled hard boiled eggs. What are we coming to? Kitchenless homes? Cooking computers embedded in a high tech cookhouse that can bake, roast, grill etc. with access to cool racks, where you store all the ingredients in its intended storage bins, enter the recipe in a cooking language, and voila, your dinner is ready, with, needless to say, the right wine recommendation.
Today's chefs will actually be cookware engineers adept in languages like FuD, Chow, Rcp etc. My imagination is going wild here but if you see ready-made boiled eggs, it spells a grim future for tha art! Remember cursive writing?

hiatus

It has been a while since I have visited this neighborhood. I am not writer enough to attribute it to writer's block. The mind is still active and constantly cooks up topics and my position on the same, for a blog meal. Then what is it that prevents me from penning, or digitizing for that matter, a few words?

A steamy affair with my work(especially in August)? A disdain for the world? Sheer laziness?

I am at my wits' end, but I am sure a visit to a shrink might shine some light on my left cerebrum and I can very well imagine (s)he joyfully announcing 'Aha, you are not motivated enough! I suggest you promise yourself a reward for every blog your write!'.

What ever happened to the sheer love of writing? Where did that disappear? Or is it dormant waiting for the right motivation? I mean, the right reward.