Alternate Narratives

I have been spending a few hours running through some of the files on this PC. I have just counted there are around fifty different versions of my CV, each one altered slightly to fit a particular vacancy. It is unlikely that I will ever need a CV again. And if I do, it will most probably need to be in French.

It is kind of weird looking at the variation in vacancies I applied for.

In the last fifteen years I got offered two jobs. One at a space agency and another at a famous university. Probably the one that I got closest too apart from that was at a company growing diamonds by plasma assisted chemical vapour deposition. Otherwise, I had few interviews. My application to interview rate was down at 2%. My guess, and it is only that, is that people imagined something was “off” about me, they may even have been quietly warned. Who knows?

All in all, it is a pretty strange narrative even at the simple face value. Man quits job at top university and cannot find another so sets himself up as a private tutor for a number of years, he gets bored by the rigid curriculum and pedantic mark schemes so pisses off to France and retires.

I could offer any number of alternative narratives.

Twenty years ago, if you had suggested to me that this is what would happen, I would have vehemently argued to the contrary.

Then it was before I had all the Buddhist dreams and the ones pertaining to triskelions and severance. It was before me having visions of myself as a Buddhist monk with om mane padme hum tattooed in Sanskrit on my arms. It was before I had “telepathic” conversations, imaginary or otherwise, stating that this is my very last incarnation on this planet.

By the way, what do you do with shit like that? What would you do?

It seems that so much, back then, was based on erroneous assumptions.

An alternative narrative is that people with whom I had proximal physical plane contact are unwilling to learn from me, that they are already omniscient {self-diagnosed} and they have squandered what was perhaps the greatest opportunity amongst many incarnations which they ever might have. They failed and badly so.

This experiment, perhaps planned 2500 years ago when my chain of incarnations has brought me to this body and its prior position in a higher education establishment of a scientific bent, has failed. It has been a damp squib.

How come a former Buddhist monk ended up teaching science, at least for a while, in London, Surrey and Hampshire?

It seems far-fetched…

In many ways none of this matters because in a tiny fragment of time, on a planetary scale, I will have dis-incarnated. I will not have left much in the way of a legacy. My molecules and atoms will be scattered, my body will be oxidised in a furnace. My carbon and hydrogen will do their bit and add to global warming.

Like a gnat’s fart “I” will blow away on the wind.

Shit happens, man.