Mid-week Muse-ings

On Being Old and Ornery

Love Among the Ruins

I am always in search of good news, and this morning I found an hilarious, 5000 word piece about the upcoming and past nuptials of the 93 years young Rupert Murdoch, in The Cut. He is about to get married for the fifth (!) time. And after asking and answering all the breathless questions us normies harbour re Mr Murdoch and the ueber wealthy world he inhabits, the author asks why he wrote the article and tells us, I don’t know.

https://www.thecut.com/article/rupert-murdoch-elena-zhukova-engagement-wedding-everything-we-know.html

Well, I know, honey. It’s for the money. And the magazine paid you because they know their readers will eat up the light and easily digested fare you served up with such flair. (I am rhyming on purpose!). Which is to say, we all are in dire need of a break from fear and apocalypse stories. We need reassurance that things will, somehow, turn out for the best in the worst of all possible worlds. Ahem.

But I digress and I want to get back to old Murdoch, who doesn’t know how to be old properly. He continues to act as if he wasn’t an inch away from the grave, as if he was 40 years younger at the very least, and that marriage to yet another much younger woman is a sure way to retain one’s vigour. How dare he!

Aside from the fact that he should be dead already, he’s not playing by the established old people rules. Which are simple: stop working, get your ass into ‘assisted living’, play Canasta, knit socks, and on high holidays, visit with your family who otherwise ignores you.

Never admit that while your body is slowly but surely deserting you, on the inside, you are a young, still hungry for real life, the life that the young lead. Which is why you might have an eye for a much younger partner. This is considered very unseemly; you must not lust after younger partners. If you do, never tell. Remember, only the super wealthy are allowed. And even they will be ridiculed.

Also, avoid becoming a source of ‘wisdom’ for younger friends. They live in a different time zone and while they may tell you how enlightened you are, they will in the end, discount what you say. That’s just the nature of the beast. So don’t let on what you know and what life has perhaps taught you: nobody cares. I don’t know anyone who ever listened to so called ‘good advice’. I certainly didn’t and look where it got me.

Finallly, I am a full subscriber to the latest health knowledge: which is to say that according to the meta studies, people who play tennis or badminton or even pickle ball on a regular basis will live 9.5 years longer than the rest of us couch potatoes or gym rats. The reasons, as usual, are complicated and have as much to do with getting a real life social life as isnhitting the ball across the net. Walking uphill and more than you want is also key as is lifting a few weights. But moderation is everything. Being a tri athlete at 62 is a recipe for a shortened life and worn out joints. Diet is important, intermittent fasting is recommended and a moderate Keto diet might also make a difference, especially with one increasing girth. And if you don’t like the wrinkled face staring back at you, get some Castor oil and put it on nightly. It’s a nasty thick while oil but it works better than most expensive anti- ageing creams on the market. This is my secret weapon and it’s all over YouTube, as well.

I don’t know what Mr Murdoch’s secret is, but I suspect it’s simple lust for life that keeps him defying the odds and the expectations of us lesser mortals. He may also have access to expensive mitochondria assistants and such. There is a whole new world of high tech bio-fixes out there. The investment class doesn’t want to age or even die, so they are throwing big bucks into that research. I’m certain that Murdoch is one of them.

All of which doesn’t address the last and perhaps most important piece of the ageing Kaleidoscope: your immortal soul. You may believe that you don’t have one because it’s not a proven entity. I used to take that position, strongly supported by the reigning scientific consensus and bias, which is materialism and atheism a la Dawkins, Harris, and others. According to them, the universe has no soul or purpose, and neither do we, and souls are a fairy tale, at best. The trouble with this world view is that it leaves out five thousand years of accumulated knowledge that says otherwise. Why would we discount that storehouse of wisdom? Because Harari tells us that they are ‘just stories’ and can therefore be easily dismissed? And isn’t that a meta story in itself? And what about the weirdness of science. Have you looked into Quantum Physics lately? It boggles the mind.

Which is fine as long as the mind isn’t the only thing we are. I believe we are more than minds; we have souls. You might think that I choose to believe this because I am, daily, getting closer to the end date, that flashing red Exit sign. Maybe. But allow me to point out that nobody, not even the scientists, really know about souls and will only find out once they too are dead.

And on that happy note, I shall conclude this Muse-ing. I hope you found it mildly amuse-ing. Oh, and one last thing: Rupert you old renegade; I hope this turns out to be your last and happiest marriage. Mazel Tov! Herzlichen Glueckwunsch! Bonne chance!