The Clock Ticks: Make It Matter

“I’m not dead yet.” – Monty Python and the Holy Grail

I told The Mrs. I wanted to be cremated.  She made an appointment for next Tuesday.

Scott Adams shuffled off this mortal coil this week, and that event got me thinking about the big D:  death.  Adams, the Dilbert author who turned office satire into a cultural touchstone for nerds like me, left me thinking about his legacy.  Adams wasn’t just a cartoonist; he was a man who rewired how we see persuasion, hypnosis, and the Clown World® we call reality.  His passing was foreshadowed, but when it happens, the inevitability of it doesn’t make it better.

That’s Adams, who has left us, but there’s a contrast in George R.R. Martin, still kicking (for now).  Today (my today, not yours) I read an interview where he whined at a fan who had asked if he was going to finish his Song of Fire and Ice series (Game of Thrones to most people) before he died.  To his face.  Martin griped about this confrontation.

“I’m not dying,” he grumbled, as if that’s the point.

George, buddy, hate to break it to you and subvert your expectations, but you are.  So am I.  So is everyone reading this post.

We’re all dying, right this second.

Tick-tock, the clock doesn’t care if you’re an author with $120 million in the bank lounging in Santa Fe while some flunkies sand off your bunions with sandpaper made from diamonds or a blogger hammering keys in the Midwest who ran out of beer last weekend.  Every breath is one closer to the last.

Why did the skeleton go to the party alone?  He had no body to go with.

We have an end date stamped on us like milk, but the Universe keeps the label hidden.  Could be tomorrow in a freak duck attack (hey, it happens), or decades from now after a life of quiet desperation that had no more impact on the world than a potted fern.

The point?  We’re terminal from day zero.  I think Adams knew this; he talked about it in his books, framing life as a series of systems to hack for maximum output.

Martin?  He’s procrastinating his way through what could be his magnum opus, letting plot threads dangle like cat toys.  Ignoring the reaper doesn’t make him go away, it just wastes the sand in my hourglass.

In our rush to the grave, have we forgotten the miracles?  Yes, miracles.  Not the flashy water-to-wine kind.  I’m not good at those.  But what about the everyday wonders that make existence sparkle?  Bite into a ripe strawberry straight from the plant.  The explosion of sweet yet tart on my tongue?

Phenomenal.

Or cracking a cold beer after mowing the lawn on a scorching day, sweat dripping, the pilsner hitting like a high-five from my guardian angel.  Crisp linens on a freshly made bed, sliding in like you’re royalty in a five-star hotel are another feast for the senses.

These aren’t mundane bits of life:  they’re tiny miracles, proof the universe isn’t all entropy, Indians, Somalians, and taxes.  We take these amazing things for granted, missing the point.  We get one shot on this merry-go round.  Enjoy it.

I tried to organize a hide-and-seek tournament, but it was a complete failure.  Good players are hard to find.

Even I, the mighty John Wilder sometimes get bogged down in the daily grind.  Bills, deadlines, that endless loop of work-eat-write-drink-sleep-shower-rinse-repeat.  It’s easy to zombie through days, forgetting the biggest miracle and gift of all:  being alive.  Heart pumping, lungs filling, neurons firing symphonies in my skull.  We’re stardust animated by the Great Cosmic Spark, yet we whine about traffic or the price of eggs.

Adams would call this a bad frame.

Zoom out.

Reframe.

Boom.  The mundane becomes amazing magic.  Martin’s dragons and ice zombies are cool (I mean the first three seasons with all the hot naked chicks), but they are pale imitations next to the real epic:

Life, unfolding heartbeat by heartbeat.

Here’s the kicker: we have a choice.  Every.  Single.  Day.  That next moment?  It’s yours.  Infinite power in that moment.  No matter if you’re chained to a desk, stuck in traffic, or lounging on a yacht (I see you, Elon), that sliver of time belongs to you.  You get to choose to squander it on despair, or seize it like a Spartan grabbing a Persian neck at Thermopylae.

Adams seized life.  He didn’t just draw funny strips; he changed the United States.  He changed the entire national conversation on politics, race, and the matrix of media manipulation.  Some X™ dweeb (responding to me) called him a victim of the woke mob after his cancellation.

Victim?  Please.  Adams knew the game.  He poked the bear on purpose, shifting Overton windows at scale.

I asked my dog what’s two minus two.  He said nothing.

Martin?  He’s the flip side.  He hit the jackpot with Thrones, turned his fantasy story into a cultural juggernaut, then found himself unable to stick the landing.

Hell, he hasn’t even landed, and almost certainly never will now.  It’s way more than a decade and his books are not only unfinished, they will never be finished by him.  His writing chops are leagues above mine (I’ll admit it), but finishing an epic like that?

Nah.  He’s got time left, but he’s squandering it on forgettable side quests while the sand runs out on the hourglass?  That’s the opposite of Adams’ hustle.  One built empires of influence; the other built a throne of delays.

There’s hope, though.  If you want to change the Universe, it’s likely that you still can.  You think, “I don’t have an audience.”  True, but Adams started with zero.  Sketched in a cubicle, built it strip by strip.  Me?  I peck away at the laptop, hoping to nudge minds.

Tomorrow, what can you do?  Write that book.  Start that business.  Mentor a kid.  Plant a tree.  Convince an Indian to move back to Mumbai.

Make the most of every second.

Death’s coming, but until then?  Make it matter.

Why don’t skeletons fight each other?  They don’t have the guts.

Adams left a blueprint:  hack reality, persuade boldly, point out and mock the absurd.  Martin’s a cautionary tale: don’t let potential rot.

Me?  I’m typing this, hoping it sparks something in you.  The clock ticks for us all.  Use it wisely.

You’ve got one life.  Make it matter.

Author: John

Nobel-Prize Winning, MacArthur Genius Grant Near Recipient writing to you regularly about Fitness, Wealth, and Wisdom - How to be happy and how to be healthy. Oh, and rich.

36 thoughts on “The Clock Ticks: Make It Matter”

  1. “You’ve got one life. Make it matter.”
    Leftists think EVERYTHING they do matters, and will change the world, bringing about their Utopia.
    Make sure what you do matters in your immediate world of family & friends
    To quote a famous duo: “Be excellent to each other.”

  2. True death comes for us all. But what happens after death? The Bible tells us that judgement comes after death. If you are honest with yourself, we’ve all done things we aren’t proud of at best, at worst we’ve committed horrible sins. Take a look at the Ten Commandments and see which ones you’ve failed. The wages of sin is death and we deserve damnation for our sins. But God sent Jesus Christ to live righteously for us and to take our punishment because He loves us. Just repent from your sins and believe that Jesus Christ is who He says he is, He will give you a new heart that seeks to live righteously and to abhor evil. Not that you’ll never sin again, but you will now hate that sin and love the one true God.

  3. A few years ago, I read a study that showed men are happiest in their 60’s and 70’s. I didn’t believe it at the time, but as I approach that age, I am beginning to see it. The thought of being closer to death isn’t so good, but I’ve come to accept it more and have made peace with it. I’ve also now accepted that all those things I stressed over, and all the recognition I fought to gain at work and elsewhere…….it didn’t matter. It’s a huge load off my mind.

    I prepared for my retirement over my lifetime and it makes me smile everyday knowing that I am no longer beholden to a job or the mind-numbingly stupid DEI hires that were telling me what to do. Everything I do now is for me, my family and my dogs.

    1. I feel the antithesis to this. We used to joke that we retired in our twenties, laying around on the beach riding motorcycles and partying every day. There was no worries about being replaced by invaders and all of the women had vaginas. I am most assuredly not as happy as I was back then. I am in my seventies and just hope to live long enough to see this current debacle come to an end. I have been preparing for it and would hate to see it go to waste. I do agree about the family and dogs fren.

    1. Excellent essay, John.

      My fav Dilbert, published on my birthday no less…

      http://ffden-2.phys.uaf.edu/211_fall2002.web.dir/Chris_Young/fundamentals_files/image001.jpg

      I’ve never read Martin, my taste in fantasy runs to flying cans of air out in space instead of flying dragons. I also enjoy hard boiled crime novels. Like these.

      http://www.hardcasecrime.com/books_bios.cgi

      I recently finished The Get Off, fifth novel on the list above. It was just OK. I thought the one below it on the list, The Actor, was excellent if you want a recommendation. Anyway, The Get Off turns out to have a Sunset Boulevard style unreliable narrator finale and ends with the line:

      “”Death means you don’t get to know what happens next.”

      I’ve been thinking a lot about that line. It’s gonna be the last line of all our stories. Live with it.

  6. Someone once said “ it is better to build strong children, then to repair broken men”. That’s why I’m a Sunday School teacher. (even at the age of 70).

  7. Martin seems to have quit after the first three books which were extraordinary. The last two were boring and meh. I guess Sanderson will finish them for him.

  9. We all look back and sometimes think “What is the one thing I didn’t do that I regretted not doing?” Finally, quit having that thought around 10 years ago. Why? Because there were at least 20 different regrets over the years.

    The MSM has created a faux reality to hypnotize us into an envious frenzy where we are supposed to sense we’re just screwed and don’t matter individually. Only our collective guilt matters. Hence, a Commie Muzz gets elected Mayor of NYC.

    Scott escaped that groupthink bigly. And we’re better for that. He still influences us daily after his death through a young cartoonist that asked him for advice. And listened. He’s done OK with “poorly” drawn characters as well.

    Stephan Pastis.

    1. My father said many things to me in his lifetime, but one that really struck me-
      “Regret is the most useless thing in the world.”

  11. Larry Correia pointed out that GRRM only writes when he needs money. Made enough on the first part to not need to write and finish it.

  12. Driving up to the gas station, I noticed that the rose bushes in the street median were cluttered with wind-blown trash (mostly plastic bags). While I waited for the tank to fill, I asked myself “How long would it take me to clean up that block? How many people driving by here will not have to see this mess when I’m done? Do it.” I parked a block away, cleaned it up in about ten minutes, and went on with my day. I call this “taking Direct Action toward a better world”. Direct Action is not a protest march or the well-crafted expression of a political opinion posted for the whole world to see (or ignore). Direct Action is being the change you want to see.

    Lathechuck

    1. this can be more simply expressed.

      First, “If not Now, then When? If not Me, then Who?”

      second by a principle that dates back several thousand years: תיקון עולם

  13. About unfinished works — which of these two works do you really wish were finished?
    Kubla Khan (Xanadu) by Samuel Coleridge
    GOT (ASOIAF) by GRR Martin

    We pass when our thread is cut, and the exact instant is rarely our choice. We can choose to take actions to make the world a “better” place. Scott reminded those who would listen that they have free will, and they have the ability to think and act for themselves, and he gave a lot of helpful advice about how to used these abilities.

  14. A habit of my wife’s and mine is to watch the previous night’s “Gutfeld!” show while having dinner. We started when he was on so late that it interfered with sleep to watch, now it’s just an old habit. I was surprised this week when the hour long show pretty much turned into a memorial for Scott Adams, and I think it was Tuesday night’s show. Everyone had met him, everyone knew him, everyone recognized the greatness. Several things increased the amount of dust in the room, based on my tendency to have runny eyes and nose.

    1. The Mrs. went through a round of grief when he took a turn for the worse a week ago. Bothered her all that day. One thing I miss from having cut the cable is Gutfeld.

    1. That’s my biggest goal, and the only way I can live on in this world is through my children and the way I shared ideas.

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