I started watching The Big Bang Theory when I was in my Taiwan internship (click here for the post). Despite the criticisms of the show, I loved watching it. Their humour and character development was right up my alley, and I binge watched episodes literally every day. However, there was a particular episode that moved me very deeply, which inspired me to make this post.
Table of Contents:
- The Champagne Reflection
- Etching Your Name In History
- The Immortal Jellyfish
- My Great Great Great Grandfather
- My Legacy
- Infinite Void
- Conclusion
The Champagne Reflection
The episode in question is from S8E10 “The Champagne Reflection”. It has three separate storylines, but I will focus on one only. Don't worry, there'll be no spoilers for people who want to watch the show.
The episode starts off by the gang cleaning out a recently deceased professor's office. They were just tossing his research and papers into the trash. Halfway through clearing out old papers and stationery, they found an unopened champagne bottle. Attached to it was a note saying "Dear Roger, to be opened upon your first great discovery. Love, Mom".
For some reason, I started tearing up. Normally I would be chuckling or laughing, but I simply couldn't concentrate on the rest of the episode. I kept thinking of that scene and tears would start to water in my eyes. Even though it was a fictional character in a sitcom, I felt immense sadness for the professor. All those decades of living and research, and your legacy gets literally thrown into the trash bin.
After the tears subsided, it got me thinking: how do people leave behind their legacy and impact on the world, and why?
Etching Your Name In History
The easiest and most tangible proof that people existed is by etching their name in history. Be it a book, a Wikipedia page, or statues, having your name literally carved upon this world is the surest claim to existence. No one today will remember a random Englishman in the 1800s, but some will certainly remember a particular Sir Stamford Raffles or Charles Darwin from their statues and names in the history books.
Some people will do anything to get featured in the news or the Internet. It can be wild antics, controversial statements, or just plain silliness. Their 15 minutes of fame may soon disappear, but their presence on the Internet will forever be present. In a way, that is their legacy upon this world. With that in mind, I present to you a particular individual: Turritopsis Dohrnii Teo En Ming (yes, that's his real name).
The Immortal Jellyfish
Turritopsis Dohrnii, also known as the immortal jellyfish, is a species of jellyfish. I'm not a biologist so I won't delve into the specifics, but the immortal jellyfish is biologically immortal. Barring any predators or disease, the immortal jellyfish is, well, immortal. It is because of its immortal nature that a Singaporean named Teo En Ming decided to adopt the name for himself. On his Instagram page, you can see his declaration that he wants to be immortal and famous. Needless to say, he's the butt of many jokes in the Singaporean Internet space. He's not handsome or charismatic. He's diagnosed with schizophrenia and claims he's a "targeted individual", that the Singapore government is after him for saying bad things about them. He's a laughingstock, basically. But I disagree.
See, by making all of these memes and jokes about him, they're directly contributing to his goal. By cementing his place on the Internet, he has become functionally immortal. I can bet that years after his death, the name "Turritopsis Dohrnii Teo En Ming" will continue to exist on the Internet and news articles. Hell, even featuring him on this very blog post is also extending his "lifespan". There's nothing wrong with wanting to become immortal, per se. People laugh at him, but secretly, deep down, they also share his goal. His methods are quite unorthodox, but he also has the same vision as everyone else: to not be forgotten in this cruel, unforgiving world. That is his legacy, that is his legend.
My Great Great Great Grandfather
I know nothing about my great, great, great grandfather. He was very likely a peasant in the Shantou or Chaozhou region in China, toiling hard in the farmlands. An unmarked grave somewhere in the rural areas of Guangdong province. But how do I know he exists? Because I do.
Even if you're not Internet or just generic famous, your legacy can simply be in the form of your offspring. You don't have to commission a statue of yourself, or have your own Wikipedia page. Your children carries your surname, your teachings, your influence. They will go on to impact the future world because of how you raise them. And their children, and their children's children, and so on. Ripping, infinitesimal changes echoing throughout the future, and it all started with you.
Perhaps this is another reason why people want to bear children. What better way to carry on their legacy and impact than another you? No need to go through all that hassle of staging a revolution to be etched into the history books or publishing a groundbreaking paper on a scientific journal and be hailed as a genius for centuries to come. Reproducing is simply enough to guarantee yourself ideological immortality.
Now, after yapping all this while about other people's legacy and impact, what about mine?
My Legacy
I'm under no illusion that I currently have any form of impact or legacy on this world. I'm only 23 years old as of making this post, I haven't even started working or a family yet. But I certainly have thought of the effects of my existence on this world. The notion that I will be gone from this world, with nothing to show for it, just like Professor Abbott, is terrifying. All of my experiences and emotions, from the happiest moments to the most batshit scary events, will just fade away from this world with nothing more than a whimper.
However, does it really matter?
Infinite Void
I would like you to name one person from 10,000 years ago. Give up? That's fine, I have no god damn clue either. In another 10,000 years, I doubt they would be able to name anyone either. Even the most famous person in the world, arguably Cristiano Ronaldo or Donald Trump, will certainly be forgotten to the sands of time. In the grand, grand scheme of things, no legacy can outlast or transcend the void that is the infinite future. Everything crumbles in the presence of infinity.
It might seem weird to have a revelation bordering on nihilism, but I think it is the only answer that can satisfy me. The story of Professor Abbott may seem sad and pitiable, but we share his fate eventually. That thought is oddly comforting. We don't have to stress over whether we will matter centuries into the future, because we eventually won't.
Conclusion
I still haven't finished The Big Bang Theory. I got kind of burnt out going into Season 10. But there's also the bittersweet feeling of not wanting the series to end. I will eventually watch its final episode and it will be over. However, the influence and legacy it had will continue to live within me for as long as I live, that infinitesimal change rippling into the infinite future, ever smaller but everlasting. Perhaps Professor Abbott did matter. Perhaps we do matter, after all. Maybe less than a lot, but always more than none.