The answer my physics teacher was looking for was "God."
God is light. He's also infinitely large. Therefore, he is infinitely many photons. You see the logic there?
"And what are we, as Christians?"
The answer, said he, could either be "transparent" to his glory like glass, or "opaque" like a mirror.
I told him that was silly and he was totally wrong.
I think we should be phosphorescent, like phosphorescent balls.
Then we could absorb his photon glories and emit them in our hour of darkness.
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
"On reasons for religion," a paper for my Bible class
God talked to me when I was little.
He was this kind of guy who would tell you not to do bad stuff and make you miserable when you did bad stuff.
I remember this one time when my sister followed me to the bathroom because she thought I wanted to play a game when really I just wanted to use the bathroom. I didn’t believe she had her reasons for going to the bathroom, so I told her “you can lie to me, but you can’t lie to God.” She confessed. God talked. God praised her guts.
By the way, I got that line, the “you can’t lie to God”, from my dad, who once scolded me for saying what he heard to be “shut up.” I’m not a bad kid. I was actually just saying “shhhhhhhhuuuuhhh” because I wanted my sister to quit whining, to shut up, and, of course, I claimed my innocence up to the very tragic end, at which point he said “you can lie to me, but you can’t lie to God!” God told me he knew my dad was falsely accusing me. I was satisfied.
There was also the devil. The devil was just as real to me as God. The devil was the one to blame for anything bad that I did. If I got caught doing anything wrong, I’d just tell my mom the devil had been telling me not to listen to God. I wasn’t completely lying, either. I heard voices, or I thought I heard voices, coming from everything—God, the devil, stuffed animals, aliens. They spoke to me through other means, too—the number of spots on a banana, the tiles I stepped on next, all sorts of signs. If you step on that ant, this famous person will die in this year, for example. When I got old enough, of course, I kind of got the impression that I was actually just talking to myself. I stopped looking so hard. The devil hasn’t spoken to me since.
I was sort of schizophrenic back then.
There was this one time when I convinced one of my friends once of a secret portal to another world that lay just behind a huge rock at my school. We spent all summer trying to dig up that rock. When he left for another school that autumn, the project was suspended until we were older and could fight the monsters in that world a bit better. That was in third grade.
In fourth grade, it was the Bermuda Triangle, and the theory that monkeys and aliens were distantly related.
In fifth grade, the kid from third grade found my number somewhere and gave me a call. He told me he had found a few other friends who had known of that world’s existence. I told him that was very nice, and he should go with them instead. I wanted to shoot myself.
In sixth grade, it was the aliens. My friend’s uncle had been abducted.
And now…
I’d like to think I’m pretty normal now. To be honest, I’m still obsessed with the Loch Ness Monster and palmistry and astrology and tarot. Of course, these days, I’m convinced most of it’s just nonsense (ghosts and aliens, I’m still undecided about them). The guys who are absolutely sure, the former me’s, who pore over those Nessie photos or build camps around Area 51, I think many are just complete nutcases.
I’m embarrassed I was among their ranks at one time.
See, religion’s not like that, though. God’s got good arguments on his side. The apologetics books haven’t been wasted:
“There’s evidence in science: The Big Bang, which could not have come from nothing at all, testifies to the existence of something before the birth of our universe. The natural laws, which sustain our universe, would not have been able to do so had they been slightly off. We trust them to regulate our world to act in predictable ways, though we have no reason for believing why they will continue to do so tomorrow.
And there’s historical evidence: Eleven out of the twelve of Jesus’ disciples were executed for their beliefs—Peter was crucified upside-down because he saw himself unworthy to die in the same manner as his Lord. Had they not seen him alive after his crucifixion, they would have no reason at all for believing in his claim as the Son of God.
What’s more, we believe in such a thing as value: Our morality, our willingness to make others happy at great cost to ourselves, seems out of place in the natural world, where the strong dominate the weak. Our belief that there exists a set standard for right and wrong, that serial killers and rapists have violated this standard, rather than just our own set of values, persists despite all lack of evidence that there is anything of the sort. We believe it’s good to tell the truth and to love others. We believe there’s some transcendent meaning in doing so. “
See what I’ve done there? We can now safely take Christianity into consideration. We’ve established it as a logically consistent and scientifically valid belief—that is, it can explain most things without contradicting itself or scientific evidence.
But, you ask, does that make it true?
Because consider: The disciples could have just as well been horribly deluded, like followers of the Heaven’s Gate Cult. Your morals could just as well have been conditioned, and ultimately meaningless. And really, the lack of evidence for the propagation of natural laws and their existence could be explained by the Judeo-Christian God’s existence, but it could hardly prove his existence.
Ah, fine, you win. I concede: I don’t think proving Christianity through science can be done. I would think any religious nut who claims to be able to prove Christianity and refute every other worldview is a bad liar, or else badly mistaken—
because here’s the bottom line:
Christianity isn’t overwhelmingly obvious.
We don’t all “know in our hearts that God exists.”
We don’t all hear him telepathically talking to us.
In fact, if it was so obvious, if God ever appeared on radar, I’m sure most people would believe.
Most people aren’t stupid. They don’t ignore overwhelmingly obvious facts.
But you know that.
Religion, you might have realized, is the belief in the supernatural; it’s the belief that there’s something out there that influences it all that can’t be explained away with science at all—
But here we have a problem: if a religion can’t ever be proven, why believe it at all?
Because the only reason anyone should ever believe anything is because they’ve got evidence, right?
But of course. Religion isn’t negating that statement.
See, religion isn’t blind—I think many seem to think religion is about falling back into a (possibly nonexistent) guy’s arms and trusting he’ll catch you, about not seeing any evidence but deciding to believe anyway. Believing in something despite it contradicting everything you know to be true, that’s called denial. Religion isn’t denial. It’s just as much about the evidence as anything else.
The evidence of the supernatural, however, obviously isn’t of the nature where you could ever lay it out on a table and make a case for it. Rather, I think religion is evidenced through experience—
Oh, I see what you’re thinking.
That was a statement far too radical, I’m afraid.
(Quoth the naturalist, at this point: )
“What is experience? Your thoughts, your feelings, your values, your awareness of self, even that feeling you get when you’re singing a great hymn and feeling spiritual, they’re all caused by synapses firing up in different parts of your brain. Your reality is created by neurochemicals, is a big Sargasso-tangle of synapse-firings. That’s a fact. You may feel like you’ve found God, but it will be just synapses firing in your brain.”
You are correct. So it is, I’m afraid.
But so is your sight. So is your smell. So is your logic. You, even if you believe in souls, are stuck in a physical body. You absolutely cannot have an experience not caused by the firing of synapses. But what about it? You trust your sight, don’t you? And why should you trust your experiencing sight and doubt your experiencing God? Why should you believe this experience is invalid when all your other experiences are perfectly valid?
And so I continue: I believe it’s absolutely essential that anyone making any sort of judgment on a religious view try it for himself before evaluating its claims at truth, because the facts will get him nowhere, because this religion is evidenced to him through experience:
It’s his offering a few prayers to God before bed and looking for change in his life.
It’s his reading the Bible for a few months to see if God reveals himself sometime in those months.
It’s his feeling those chemicals and synapses shooting in all directions because of a spiritual something in those few words spoken by that man in the pulpit.
And after all this, it’s his decision to dedicate his life to the faith—but it won’t be blind. It’ll be because everything he’s experienced about the faith has proven reason enough for him to believe.
So that’s my view on faith. And now, you…
How can I convince you to believe?
You know, screw this. Let’s put it bluntly:
God is real because of thermodynamics, and Jesus is his son because of his apostles’ testimony, and we’re all sinners, and you know it because of your conscience, and we’ll all go to Hell, and—and you’re afraid to come to God because of sin, but you’ll experience Him someday—here, lemme pray for you:
God, let this guy not be afraid of you, and let him realize how wonderful you are and that living a Christian life is full of the truth of your love and grace and peace and joy and eternity with his brothers and sisters in your kingdom of heaven Amen!
Oh dear, I got ahead of myself.
I’m sorry.
See what I did there? That’s precisely what I can’t do: I can’t give you any reasons for belief.
The only reason anyone should ever believe anything is because they’ve got evidence, right? And in religion’s case, the evidence comes in the form of a sort of experience I can’t describe. And I can’t give that to you. Only you can try it out and see if that evidence is there.
So here’s what you could do: you pray for some time and ask God to show himself:
If God’s there and he loves you, he’ll answer in a convincing way.
If you try and you don’t get a convincing answer, God’s not there. You are free to give up.
If you try and you don’t get an answer and you give up, and sometime at the end of seventy years God asks you why you didn’t believe back then, you could tell him you’ve tried it and you’ve experienced nothing. So you’ve got an excuse, at least.
See, you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain!
Oh, my, what a pretentious statement.
There are quite a few religions claiming the same thing. I apologize (again).
In that case, I shall suggest you go try every one of those religions.
I know I’ve found something in Christianity that’s kept me holding on, despite all my doubts, since my conversion so many years ago. You, though, shouldn’t trust another person’s experience. Give all the religions a fair chance. If the Judeo-Christian God’s there, I trust you’ll also find something in Christianity you won’t find in all the other religions.
But wait—you’ve still got one question: what makes experiences so trustworthy? I never really answered that, did I?
I mean, let’s think—people from all sorts of religions have claimed to have experienced God—what if they’ve all felt the same thing? What about that serial rapist who believed he had a deep calling from God to enslave women? What about the Heaven’s Gate Cult?
Well, you see…
That is, they’re very good questions, I think.
(A sigh of exasperation at this point!)
I’ll be honest.
I can’t answer all those questions.
When I started writing, I wanted to present all the questions that had come to my mind about the topics I discussed—
I didn’t want to give you only one side of the story, the Christian side, and then try to convince you into faith with biased propaganda—that would be horribly dishonest. Yet ultimately, I still believed I would be able to show you how it makes sense to try Christianity out.
I can’t do it. I can’t argue for science or experience.
There’s always going to be a counterargument.
I suppose my efforts were wasted—how disappointing, I think, to have it all come crashing down so suddenly in the conclusion.
You mustn’t read any more.
I have no more good reasons for religion.
You may as well stop reading.
Oh, but wait, please—before you leave—I’ve got a suggestion:
Lemme offer one more, one last argument:
Here’s a third, final, and perhaps only:
Try the religions precisely on account of these hard questions, precisely because you don’t have the answers, precisely because you probably never will—because you probably will never know anything significant enough to disclose to you just what happens after your death, or where you came from, or why you’re conscious—Try religions because now, in this body, you can’t even fully trust your own experiences—Try the religions because you don’t want to die an ignorant, uncertain man.
Try them all, or as many as you can—I hope this isn’t too much to ask—and try hard science, too, and all sorts of experiences—increase both your scientific knowledge and your breadth of experience.
And then try until you’ve found the answer, but even then, question its validity. You must never be certain. If you are ever certain, if you are ever without a doubt, worry for yourself, and then doubt your own certainty.
He was this kind of guy who would tell you not to do bad stuff and make you miserable when you did bad stuff.
I remember this one time when my sister followed me to the bathroom because she thought I wanted to play a game when really I just wanted to use the bathroom. I didn’t believe she had her reasons for going to the bathroom, so I told her “you can lie to me, but you can’t lie to God.” She confessed. God talked. God praised her guts.
By the way, I got that line, the “you can’t lie to God”, from my dad, who once scolded me for saying what he heard to be “shut up.” I’m not a bad kid. I was actually just saying “shhhhhhhhuuuuhhh” because I wanted my sister to quit whining, to shut up, and, of course, I claimed my innocence up to the very tragic end, at which point he said “you can lie to me, but you can’t lie to God!” God told me he knew my dad was falsely accusing me. I was satisfied.
There was also the devil. The devil was just as real to me as God. The devil was the one to blame for anything bad that I did. If I got caught doing anything wrong, I’d just tell my mom the devil had been telling me not to listen to God. I wasn’t completely lying, either. I heard voices, or I thought I heard voices, coming from everything—God, the devil, stuffed animals, aliens. They spoke to me through other means, too—the number of spots on a banana, the tiles I stepped on next, all sorts of signs. If you step on that ant, this famous person will die in this year, for example. When I got old enough, of course, I kind of got the impression that I was actually just talking to myself. I stopped looking so hard. The devil hasn’t spoken to me since.
I was sort of schizophrenic back then.
There was this one time when I convinced one of my friends once of a secret portal to another world that lay just behind a huge rock at my school. We spent all summer trying to dig up that rock. When he left for another school that autumn, the project was suspended until we were older and could fight the monsters in that world a bit better. That was in third grade.
In fourth grade, it was the Bermuda Triangle, and the theory that monkeys and aliens were distantly related.
In fifth grade, the kid from third grade found my number somewhere and gave me a call. He told me he had found a few other friends who had known of that world’s existence. I told him that was very nice, and he should go with them instead. I wanted to shoot myself.
In sixth grade, it was the aliens. My friend’s uncle had been abducted.
And now…
I’d like to think I’m pretty normal now. To be honest, I’m still obsessed with the Loch Ness Monster and palmistry and astrology and tarot. Of course, these days, I’m convinced most of it’s just nonsense (ghosts and aliens, I’m still undecided about them). The guys who are absolutely sure, the former me’s, who pore over those Nessie photos or build camps around Area 51, I think many are just complete nutcases.
I’m embarrassed I was among their ranks at one time.
See, religion’s not like that, though. God’s got good arguments on his side. The apologetics books haven’t been wasted:
“There’s evidence in science: The Big Bang, which could not have come from nothing at all, testifies to the existence of something before the birth of our universe. The natural laws, which sustain our universe, would not have been able to do so had they been slightly off. We trust them to regulate our world to act in predictable ways, though we have no reason for believing why they will continue to do so tomorrow.
And there’s historical evidence: Eleven out of the twelve of Jesus’ disciples were executed for their beliefs—Peter was crucified upside-down because he saw himself unworthy to die in the same manner as his Lord. Had they not seen him alive after his crucifixion, they would have no reason at all for believing in his claim as the Son of God.
What’s more, we believe in such a thing as value: Our morality, our willingness to make others happy at great cost to ourselves, seems out of place in the natural world, where the strong dominate the weak. Our belief that there exists a set standard for right and wrong, that serial killers and rapists have violated this standard, rather than just our own set of values, persists despite all lack of evidence that there is anything of the sort. We believe it’s good to tell the truth and to love others. We believe there’s some transcendent meaning in doing so. “
See what I’ve done there? We can now safely take Christianity into consideration. We’ve established it as a logically consistent and scientifically valid belief—that is, it can explain most things without contradicting itself or scientific evidence.
But, you ask, does that make it true?
Because consider: The disciples could have just as well been horribly deluded, like followers of the Heaven’s Gate Cult. Your morals could just as well have been conditioned, and ultimately meaningless. And really, the lack of evidence for the propagation of natural laws and their existence could be explained by the Judeo-Christian God’s existence, but it could hardly prove his existence.
Ah, fine, you win. I concede: I don’t think proving Christianity through science can be done. I would think any religious nut who claims to be able to prove Christianity and refute every other worldview is a bad liar, or else badly mistaken—
because here’s the bottom line:
Christianity isn’t overwhelmingly obvious.
We don’t all “know in our hearts that God exists.”
We don’t all hear him telepathically talking to us.
In fact, if it was so obvious, if God ever appeared on radar, I’m sure most people would believe.
Most people aren’t stupid. They don’t ignore overwhelmingly obvious facts.
But you know that.
Religion, you might have realized, is the belief in the supernatural; it’s the belief that there’s something out there that influences it all that can’t be explained away with science at all—
But here we have a problem: if a religion can’t ever be proven, why believe it at all?
Because the only reason anyone should ever believe anything is because they’ve got evidence, right?
But of course. Religion isn’t negating that statement.
See, religion isn’t blind—I think many seem to think religion is about falling back into a (possibly nonexistent) guy’s arms and trusting he’ll catch you, about not seeing any evidence but deciding to believe anyway. Believing in something despite it contradicting everything you know to be true, that’s called denial. Religion isn’t denial. It’s just as much about the evidence as anything else.
The evidence of the supernatural, however, obviously isn’t of the nature where you could ever lay it out on a table and make a case for it. Rather, I think religion is evidenced through experience—
Oh, I see what you’re thinking.
That was a statement far too radical, I’m afraid.
(Quoth the naturalist, at this point: )
“What is experience? Your thoughts, your feelings, your values, your awareness of self, even that feeling you get when you’re singing a great hymn and feeling spiritual, they’re all caused by synapses firing up in different parts of your brain. Your reality is created by neurochemicals, is a big Sargasso-tangle of synapse-firings. That’s a fact. You may feel like you’ve found God, but it will be just synapses firing in your brain.”
You are correct. So it is, I’m afraid.
But so is your sight. So is your smell. So is your logic. You, even if you believe in souls, are stuck in a physical body. You absolutely cannot have an experience not caused by the firing of synapses. But what about it? You trust your sight, don’t you? And why should you trust your experiencing sight and doubt your experiencing God? Why should you believe this experience is invalid when all your other experiences are perfectly valid?
And so I continue: I believe it’s absolutely essential that anyone making any sort of judgment on a religious view try it for himself before evaluating its claims at truth, because the facts will get him nowhere, because this religion is evidenced to him through experience:
It’s his offering a few prayers to God before bed and looking for change in his life.
It’s his reading the Bible for a few months to see if God reveals himself sometime in those months.
It’s his feeling those chemicals and synapses shooting in all directions because of a spiritual something in those few words spoken by that man in the pulpit.
And after all this, it’s his decision to dedicate his life to the faith—but it won’t be blind. It’ll be because everything he’s experienced about the faith has proven reason enough for him to believe.
So that’s my view on faith. And now, you…
How can I convince you to believe?
You know, screw this. Let’s put it bluntly:
God is real because of thermodynamics, and Jesus is his son because of his apostles’ testimony, and we’re all sinners, and you know it because of your conscience, and we’ll all go to Hell, and—and you’re afraid to come to God because of sin, but you’ll experience Him someday—here, lemme pray for you:
God, let this guy not be afraid of you, and let him realize how wonderful you are and that living a Christian life is full of the truth of your love and grace and peace and joy and eternity with his brothers and sisters in your kingdom of heaven Amen!
Oh dear, I got ahead of myself.
I’m sorry.
See what I did there? That’s precisely what I can’t do: I can’t give you any reasons for belief.
The only reason anyone should ever believe anything is because they’ve got evidence, right? And in religion’s case, the evidence comes in the form of a sort of experience I can’t describe. And I can’t give that to you. Only you can try it out and see if that evidence is there.
So here’s what you could do: you pray for some time and ask God to show himself:
If God’s there and he loves you, he’ll answer in a convincing way.
If you try and you don’t get a convincing answer, God’s not there. You are free to give up.
If you try and you don’t get an answer and you give up, and sometime at the end of seventy years God asks you why you didn’t believe back then, you could tell him you’ve tried it and you’ve experienced nothing. So you’ve got an excuse, at least.
See, you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain!
Oh, my, what a pretentious statement.
There are quite a few religions claiming the same thing. I apologize (again).
In that case, I shall suggest you go try every one of those religions.
I know I’ve found something in Christianity that’s kept me holding on, despite all my doubts, since my conversion so many years ago. You, though, shouldn’t trust another person’s experience. Give all the religions a fair chance. If the Judeo-Christian God’s there, I trust you’ll also find something in Christianity you won’t find in all the other religions.
But wait—you’ve still got one question: what makes experiences so trustworthy? I never really answered that, did I?
I mean, let’s think—people from all sorts of religions have claimed to have experienced God—what if they’ve all felt the same thing? What about that serial rapist who believed he had a deep calling from God to enslave women? What about the Heaven’s Gate Cult?
Well, you see…
That is, they’re very good questions, I think.
(A sigh of exasperation at this point!)
I’ll be honest.
I can’t answer all those questions.
When I started writing, I wanted to present all the questions that had come to my mind about the topics I discussed—
I didn’t want to give you only one side of the story, the Christian side, and then try to convince you into faith with biased propaganda—that would be horribly dishonest. Yet ultimately, I still believed I would be able to show you how it makes sense to try Christianity out.
I can’t do it. I can’t argue for science or experience.
There’s always going to be a counterargument.
I suppose my efforts were wasted—how disappointing, I think, to have it all come crashing down so suddenly in the conclusion.
You mustn’t read any more.
I have no more good reasons for religion.
You may as well stop reading.
Oh, but wait, please—before you leave—I’ve got a suggestion:
Lemme offer one more, one last argument:
Here’s a third, final, and perhaps only:
Try the religions precisely on account of these hard questions, precisely because you don’t have the answers, precisely because you probably never will—because you probably will never know anything significant enough to disclose to you just what happens after your death, or where you came from, or why you’re conscious—Try religions because now, in this body, you can’t even fully trust your own experiences—Try the religions because you don’t want to die an ignorant, uncertain man.
Try them all, or as many as you can—I hope this isn’t too much to ask—and try hard science, too, and all sorts of experiences—increase both your scientific knowledge and your breadth of experience.
And then try until you’ve found the answer, but even then, question its validity. You must never be certain. If you are ever certain, if you are ever without a doubt, worry for yourself, and then doubt your own certainty.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wishes
My friend turned to me in service today and told me he thought those "if you had one wish" things were pretty stupid. "I'd just wish us all to be perfect and in heaven," he said. "Every sensible person should really wish the same."
If I had one wish, I'd wish God didn't exist. Then we could all be existentialists.
Not really.
Perhaps he's right.
If I had one wish, I'd wish God didn't exist. Then we could all be existentialists.
Not really.
Perhaps he's right.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
On rulesy people
It's almost this spiritual revival week at our school, and I'm hoping God could appear to me before then.
Today, instead of service, we had a sort of scavenger hunt. The guys all got kind of upset at me because I wanted to be doing something wacky with all the topics.
"Nothing is ever fun when you do it the way you're supposed to."
Remember that? That's rule #2 in the Rules of Moi. They're all breaking it.
So then my great friend, in all his ENTP glory, asked me if I wanted to be in their Rules-of-Moi-abiding group. See, there was the idea. I would switch randomly and my former group would never notice I was gone until they start checking the pictures and see a guy missing. Unfortunately, he was all rulesy as well and had to inform the teachers of my switch.
He's been odd today.
During our experiments for science, he got upset because I wasn't holding the tube right and he wanted good results. Later, he got upset because he left his homework at home. Also, he doesn't like to cheat (not even for just the fun of it).
Everyone in the world is too rulesy... I'll bet they have a lot less fun than I do.
Hm... It was a good day, and I'm getting myself all down thinking about this. I mean, rulesiness, it's their style, right? Twould be a crime if they were anybody but themselves, I guess...
but still...
Today, instead of service, we had a sort of scavenger hunt. The guys all got kind of upset at me because I wanted to be doing something wacky with all the topics.
"Nothing is ever fun when you do it the way you're supposed to."
Remember that? That's rule #2 in the Rules of Moi. They're all breaking it.
So then my great friend, in all his ENTP glory, asked me if I wanted to be in their Rules-of-Moi-abiding group. See, there was the idea. I would switch randomly and my former group would never notice I was gone until they start checking the pictures and see a guy missing. Unfortunately, he was all rulesy as well and had to inform the teachers of my switch.
He's been odd today.
During our experiments for science, he got upset because I wasn't holding the tube right and he wanted good results. Later, he got upset because he left his homework at home. Also, he doesn't like to cheat (not even for just the fun of it).
Everyone in the world is too rulesy... I'll bet they have a lot less fun than I do.
Hm... It was a good day, and I'm getting myself all down thinking about this. I mean, rulesiness, it's their style, right? Twould be a crime if they were anybody but themselves, I guess...
but still...
On determinism, value, and why abortions suck
I read up a bit on Schrodinger's cat and determinism in the lab after school, and my teacher was talking about how old people are a burden on the economy and we should just support them ourselves or let them die.
Let's consider: Whether determinism is true or not is really irrelevant. We perceive ourselves as having free will. If we didn't have free will, and we've only been programmed to think we have free will, it would make no ultimate difference. The claims that we don't have free will by those evil humanists (God curse their existences!) they feature on The Truth Project are completely impertinent to whether lives have any meaning.
Let's consider: Economic conservatism claims social security doesn't work because population sizes are often unpredictable. What began as 500 some guys supporting one is now down to three guys supporting one. In the year 2017, the ratio will be 1:1. So here's what we do: let's have tons of unprotected sex. Abortion is for anarchists.
Let's consider: Some claim that without God, there would be no ultimate value in anything. I say even if there was a God, whatever he thought valuable could be completely invaluable to you. Value is judged by the individual. Adolf Hitler's morality is every bit as valuable to him as yours is to you. There is no such thing as an ultimate standard for morality, and even if God existed, there couldn't be an ultimate standard for morality because morality is in itself dependent on respecting whatever the individual considers valuable. Unless God was illogical, he could not create such a thing as objective value, could he? Now, I'll accept arguments that we can't live fulfilling lives in our sinful condition and apart from him, but claiming objective morality is silly.
Let's consider: Whether determinism is true or not is really irrelevant. We perceive ourselves as having free will. If we didn't have free will, and we've only been programmed to think we have free will, it would make no ultimate difference. The claims that we don't have free will by those evil humanists (God curse their existences!) they feature on The Truth Project are completely impertinent to whether lives have any meaning.
Let's consider: Economic conservatism claims social security doesn't work because population sizes are often unpredictable. What began as 500 some guys supporting one is now down to three guys supporting one. In the year 2017, the ratio will be 1:1. So here's what we do: let's have tons of unprotected sex. Abortion is for anarchists.
Let's consider: Some claim that without God, there would be no ultimate value in anything. I say even if there was a God, whatever he thought valuable could be completely invaluable to you. Value is judged by the individual. Adolf Hitler's morality is every bit as valuable to him as yours is to you. There is no such thing as an ultimate standard for morality, and even if God existed, there couldn't be an ultimate standard for morality because morality is in itself dependent on respecting whatever the individual considers valuable. Unless God was illogical, he could not create such a thing as objective value, could he? Now, I'll accept arguments that we can't live fulfilling lives in our sinful condition and apart from him, but claiming objective morality is silly.
Monday, January 25, 2010
"The soul proves the existence of a you that transcends your genes and your culture and your neurochemicals."
Is a soul that part of you that acknowledges your own existence? An electric shock firing between two synapses does that.
Is it your own sense of value and ethical principles? Your genes and your environment that.
Is it an immaterial part of you that somehow includes these qualities, and preserves them upon your braindeath,
a hope which men in the face of death mass upon like fornicating frogs in the autumn?
God, where are you?
Please punish me.
Is it your own sense of value and ethical principles? Your genes and your environment that.
Is it an immaterial part of you that somehow includes these qualities, and preserves them upon your braindeath,
a hope which men in the face of death mass upon like fornicating frogs in the autumn?
God, where are you?
Please punish me.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Thoughts on Ecclesiastes
Ah, I don't think I can put everything down on here...
I wrote a few pages worth of notes on this wonderful book,
which I read every day, literally!,
but....
Perhaps...
Hmm...
Oh, and then...
And...
Alright,
I guesssssss....
what I really wanted to say was:
I'm always hearing people say "the point of the book is to show how our sole purpose is to live for God."
Oh. Em. Eff. Gee.
Let's see...
It's saying we obey God because we have no idea what's gonna happen to us after we die, nor will we ever know.
It's saying we can't even know if everything he's saying is good and right and true.
It's saying we have no say in what happens to us. We obey a king because it would be stupid not to, and we obey God for the very same reason.
And aside from that,
It's saying there's not much to life, and we might as well do everything we can to make our lives amazing and not think about our meaninglessness.
"Living out our purpose as servants of God"?
Oh my god.
Get this: he never even uses the word "God" in the Hebrew manuscripts. He uses "ha-elohim." That's "the god."
If there was a single purpose the book serves, it's to make all these non-Christians realize how utterly pointless their lives all are, to give them a desire for transcendence above it all.
In fact, if I could rearrange the Bible, it would be the first book.
"Welcome! to the word of God! & Here's what God has to say about your life!"
Wonderful, right?
I wrote a few pages worth of notes on this wonderful book,
which I read every day, literally!,
but....
Perhaps...
Hmm...
Oh, and then...
And...
Alright,
I guesssssss....
what I really wanted to say was:
I'm always hearing people say "the point of the book is to show how our sole purpose is to live for God."
Oh. Em. Eff. Gee.
Let's see...
"The wise man has eyes in his head, while the fool walks in the darkness;See what it's saying?
but I came to realize that the same fate overtakes them both.""No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun. Despite all his efforts
to search it out, man cannot discover its meaning.""What is twisted cannot be straightened; what is lacking cannot be
counted.""As for men, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the
animals."
"He has set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God
has done from beginning to end."
"Moreover, when God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him
to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work--this is the gift of
God. He seldom reflects on the days of his life, because God keeps him occupied
with gladness of heart."
"Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart,
for it is now that God favors what you do. Always be clothed in white, and
always anoint your head with oil. Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all
the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun--all your
meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under
the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the
grave where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knwoledge
nor wisdom."
"For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and
meaningless days he passes through like a shadow?"
"There is something else meaningless that occurs on earth: righteous men
who get what the wicked deserve, and wicked men who get what the righteous
deserve."
"The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food
come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time
and chance happen to them all."
"Give your portions to seven, yes to eight, for you do not know what
disaster may come upon the land... Whoever watches the wind will not plant;
whoever looks at the clouds will not reap."
"Since a king's word is supreme, who can say to him, "What are you doing?"
Whoever obeys his commands will come to no harm, and the wise heart will know
the proper time and procedure."
"Who knows if the spirit of man rises upward and if the spirit of the
animal goes down into the earth?"
It's saying we obey God because we have no idea what's gonna happen to us after we die, nor will we ever know.
It's saying we can't even know if everything he's saying is good and right and true.
It's saying we have no say in what happens to us. We obey a king because it would be stupid not to, and we obey God for the very same reason.
And aside from that,
It's saying there's not much to life, and we might as well do everything we can to make our lives amazing and not think about our meaninglessness.
"Living out our purpose as servants of God"?
Oh my god.
Get this: he never even uses the word "God" in the Hebrew manuscripts. He uses "ha-elohim." That's "the god."
If there was a single purpose the book serves, it's to make all these non-Christians realize how utterly pointless their lives all are, to give them a desire for transcendence above it all.
In fact, if I could rearrange the Bible, it would be the first book.
"Welcome! to the word of God! & Here's what God has to say about your life!"
Wonderful, right?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Big Empty.
If anyone likes me, as a friend or otherwise, it probably means they don't know me so well. I'm really quite an un-like-a-ble person. Get that? I'm: •unsympathetic: (of characters in literature or drama) tending to evoke antipathetic feelings. I'm proud (proud of it), narcissistic, elitist, blunt, unprincipled, uncaring, Outshined! and absolutely-brillovely!
I wonder why people like me. I hardly like them. It would be nice if they'd all go away sometimes and leave me to myself. It's the way I'd like to live--just me and the world and nothing between--
to i m p l odeli.keth i s s o r t o f.
Lovely in a dark, unholy kind of way.
Interstellar overdrive.
Quasarly.
Big, colossal slave of a world beholds the immortal child-king in a Jesus Christ pose!;
an empty, godless god of an eternity
and so now, get this, world:
LEAVEMEALONE. <--and see that period?
It's the largest size they have.
FIGht.
I wonder why people like me. I hardly like them. It would be nice if they'd all go away sometimes and leave me to myself. It's the way I'd like to live--just me and the world and nothing between--
to i m p l odeli.keth i s s o r t o f.
Lovely in a dark, unholy kind of way.
Interstellar overdrive.
Quasarly.
Big, colossal slave of a world beholds the immortal child-king in a Jesus Christ pose!;
an empty, godless god of an eternity
and so now, get this, world:
LEAVEMEALONE. <--and see that period?
It's the largest size they have.
FIGht.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
My faith.
When I was younger, God wasn’t so hard to believe. See, for most children, the Whats of religion don’t always require a Why; after all, life is just splendid, these matters are all so trivial, and the reason, if they ever discover it later, is probably very reasonable. And if ever any one of these questions gave me too much of a bother, I could delve into yet another book on my dad’s shelf explaining why evolution is a bunch of fairy tales and how God is so easy to believe. And it was splendid, after all, and they were trivial, and it would have been magnificent if things could have stayed like that.
But as kids grow up, they develop this skill—logic—until alas! there comes an age when doubts all grow too heavy,
when the Hammer of Empiricism smashes on through every one of their beliefs,
knocks them down,
sends away the ex-children scrambling for and clawing at whatever pieces are left huc illuc.
And I don’t think it was so bad that I was barely a teenager when I decided to let it reduce my religion to sweet neological nothings—
tis better to let it strike early, I think, when you don’t have too much to lose and still 5/6 of your life left to rediscover it.
But then, of course, I suppose many a Presbyterian preacher would have told me to neatly tuck these doubts away into the dark recesses of my mind and know that there is an answer,
but My goodness, what a horrible answer!
If God is God, what are they so afraid of? Wrestling with him, as Jacob had? And defeating him, perhaps? Some God they make him out to be!
Or maybe,
Or maybe those doubts which had the potential to sabotage our beliefs weren’t quite so important to these fundamentals, tenets, doctrines. Yet if this be the case, how seriously would I be taking faith, dismissing so lightly these doubts that undermine it so heavily!
Then, I would think the only proper response would be to let them run amok in your mind until they find themselves before the Divine Countenance, until God addresses them and you realize how completely unfounded they were.
Yet this is so hard for so many,
and for me Herculean.
Perhaps one reason for this is because God, for one reason or another, is given to frequent bouts of silence, often when you least expect them.
The late Job has experienced this, to which he cries out, “But God will answer in the end!”
But of course—a perfectly loving God would certainly not ever abandon anyone, ever!
But I wonder how much of that you can believe all at once when your head is so plagued by these worry-flies beating themselves to death against two layers of glass:
Perchance he’ll be silent for a little too long,
Perchance I’ll abandon him altogether!
and Perchance—
if I happen to die on some bleak, godless winter morning—
I’ll find myself the murderer Nietzsche before the face of that clandestine God (very much alive!) at death!
And so I hold on to my doubts,
not yet brave enough (and not exactly sure how) to hand them all over…
And…
I’m not sure what else to say.
After all the “hold ons” and the “never let gos” are all wasted, I suppose I don’t have much else useful to talk about…
But as kids grow up, they develop this skill—logic—until alas! there comes an age when doubts all grow too heavy,
when the Hammer of Empiricism smashes on through every one of their beliefs,
knocks them down,
sends away the ex-children scrambling for and clawing at whatever pieces are left huc illuc.
And I don’t think it was so bad that I was barely a teenager when I decided to let it reduce my religion to sweet neological nothings—
tis better to let it strike early, I think, when you don’t have too much to lose and still 5/6 of your life left to rediscover it.
But then, of course, I suppose many a Presbyterian preacher would have told me to neatly tuck these doubts away into the dark recesses of my mind and know that there is an answer,
but My goodness, what a horrible answer!
If God is God, what are they so afraid of? Wrestling with him, as Jacob had? And defeating him, perhaps? Some God they make him out to be!
Or maybe,
Or maybe those doubts which had the potential to sabotage our beliefs weren’t quite so important to these fundamentals, tenets, doctrines. Yet if this be the case, how seriously would I be taking faith, dismissing so lightly these doubts that undermine it so heavily!
Then, I would think the only proper response would be to let them run amok in your mind until they find themselves before the Divine Countenance, until God addresses them and you realize how completely unfounded they were.
Yet this is so hard for so many,
and for me Herculean.
Perhaps one reason for this is because God, for one reason or another, is given to frequent bouts of silence, often when you least expect them.
The late Job has experienced this, to which he cries out, “But God will answer in the end!”
But of course—a perfectly loving God would certainly not ever abandon anyone, ever!
But I wonder how much of that you can believe all at once when your head is so plagued by these worry-flies beating themselves to death against two layers of glass:
Perchance he’ll be silent for a little too long,
Perchance I’ll abandon him altogether!
and Perchance—
if I happen to die on some bleak, godless winter morning—
I’ll find myself the murderer Nietzsche before the face of that clandestine God (very much alive!) at death!
And so I hold on to my doubts,
not yet brave enough (and not exactly sure how) to hand them all over…
And…
I’m not sure what else to say.
After all the “hold ons” and the “never let gos” are all wasted, I suppose I don’t have much else useful to talk about…
Friday, October 23, 2009
In love with the world today, and yet...
Dear God,
Can you hear me?
Mr. Nihilist, and my great-grandmother, and that little girl dying of cancer, they’re probably looking harder than anything tonight, harder than me and anything and fireworks, and you can’t let them die like that without knowing why they exist, God, and don’t you dare let them die empty if you’re able to convince them you exist, God, because if they die like that, you’re not a good God at all, and I won’t ever love you, and I’ll be angry with you forever, so don’t you ever dare, God, you clandestine, you old man, you show them or I’ll fight you with my last breath and scream and everything and nothing and the world
Can you hear me?
Mr. Nihilist, and my great-grandmother, and that little girl dying of cancer, they’re probably looking harder than anything tonight, harder than me and anything and fireworks, and you can’t let them die like that without knowing why they exist, God, and don’t you dare let them die empty if you’re able to convince them you exist, God, because if they die like that, you’re not a good God at all, and I won’t ever love you, and I’ll be angry with you forever, so don’t you ever dare, God, you clandestine, you old man, you show them or I’ll fight you with my last breath and scream and everything and nothing and the world
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Thunderstorms and dreams
What will the bakery be like? Will it have a blackboard by the door with neon lettering? Perhaps I could draw a picture-of-the-day, or perhaps I would be too lazy...
But...
I dreamed last night that I was late for my PE Finals all over again.
They were riding horses and playing football, and I had never ridden a horse in my life. I kept smothering my horse's face.
Finally, they let out a cow for the final project and it began to attack my horse. I led my horse out to a field to escape from the cow, but they all kept prompting me back.
"You have to do this!" they all screamed, "You'll fail, Zephy!"
But the moment the gate opened, the cow was there,
and it began goring my horse,
and she bled and bled, and then she died,
and I started to cry because it was all my fault and their fault and I was angrier than anything in the world because the horse was Moses before he found God, and the horse was empty, and she never even found why she existed.
That day, I spent until 5 at the Lab talking with my friend about education and gay rights and all sorts of stuff, and we need to start a band and get the whole world to turn her head! "Listen up!"
But when I went to dinner today, it was raining and thundering, and I didn't have an umbrella. Nature can be quite annoying at times. And I told nature "you know, if you think you can kill me, you can't! I happen to be invincible, and I shall not die until I find why I exist!"
but then it thundered very hard, so I lowered my voice a bit...
it's a bad idea to piss Thunder off...
I still think I shall not die.
I am invincible, in case you didn't know.
I don't even know what to write about these days.
But...
I dreamed last night that I was late for my PE Finals all over again.
They were riding horses and playing football, and I had never ridden a horse in my life. I kept smothering my horse's face.
Finally, they let out a cow for the final project and it began to attack my horse. I led my horse out to a field to escape from the cow, but they all kept prompting me back.
"You have to do this!" they all screamed, "You'll fail, Zephy!"
But the moment the gate opened, the cow was there,
and it began goring my horse,
and she bled and bled, and then she died,
and I started to cry because it was all my fault and their fault and I was angrier than anything in the world because the horse was Moses before he found God, and the horse was empty, and she never even found why she existed.
That day, I spent until 5 at the Lab talking with my friend about education and gay rights and all sorts of stuff, and we need to start a band and get the whole world to turn her head! "Listen up!"
But when I went to dinner today, it was raining and thundering, and I didn't have an umbrella. Nature can be quite annoying at times. And I told nature "you know, if you think you can kill me, you can't! I happen to be invincible, and I shall not die until I find why I exist!"
but then it thundered very hard, so I lowered my voice a bit...
it's a bad idea to piss Thunder off...
I still think I shall not die.
I am invincible, in case you didn't know.
I don't even know what to write about these days.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Thunderstorms, talks about God over lunch, a moving sale, and a going-away party.
And then yesterday, at church, my first hug with her! Pulse: 200 MPH! I wanted to keep on hugging for an eternity! Forever!
but it was getting awkward, so let go.
We leave this afternoon.
My heart is a rock that's fallen to the bottom of my stomach. It's not sadness. It's as if I'm sitting in the cockpit of a spaceship on a winter's day.
I feel invincible!
"5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."
but it was getting awkward, so let go.
We leave this afternoon.
My heart is a rock that's fallen to the bottom of my stomach. It's not sadness. It's as if I'm sitting in the cockpit of a spaceship on a winter's day.
I feel invincible!
"5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Songs and stuff. Night is god.
I've been music-binging recently...
Santeria, by Sublime. I can play that on the guitar now.
Then Karma Chameleon, by Culture Club,
Snow, by the Chilis,
Bye Bye Blackbird, something from the 20s, was it?,
Rape Me , Nirvana,
7 Nation Army, by the Stripes...
All amazing songs! I mean it!
Between volunteering at a children's summer camp, learning new words via email, working an SAT practice book, stripping to 50% nudity and taking X-rays, obsessing over a ridiculous game called Restaurant City because your friend got you to start, moping in self-pity over a relative lack of concern for the feelings of others (among other flaws), and, of course, packing for Taiwan,
A high school student only has so much time to blog.
On a side note, I saw an adorable frog on the mulch at the entrance of our church on Tuesday, groundhogs have returned to our backyard along with an anorexickish rabbit, my tomatoes are thriving like greasy, fat people in Mississippi, and I saw two madly bats flying around madly in a mad rush of madness and madliness and the god-mad-insane freedom of nighttime.
And this kid is obsessed with me at the summer camp.
He shares a name with a kid I obsess over.
Fact: Fate loves irony.
Well.
Eternally busy, stressed, self-absorbed, and less than a month to go.
God,
Right now would be a cool time to appear and do awesomeness.
On second thought, our morals don't match too well,
So just the do awesomeness part, ok?
Olivia makes a nice mascot, I think.
Santeria, by Sublime. I can play that on the guitar now.
Then Karma Chameleon, by Culture Club,
Snow, by the Chilis,
Bye Bye Blackbird, something from the 20s, was it?,
Rape Me , Nirvana,
7 Nation Army, by the Stripes...
All amazing songs! I mean it!
Between volunteering at a children's summer camp, learning new words via email, working an SAT practice book, stripping to 50% nudity and taking X-rays, obsessing over a ridiculous game called Restaurant City because your friend got you to start, moping in self-pity over a relative lack of concern for the feelings of others (among other flaws), and, of course, packing for Taiwan,
A high school student only has so much time to blog.
On a side note, I saw an adorable frog on the mulch at the entrance of our church on Tuesday, groundhogs have returned to our backyard along with an anorexickish rabbit, my tomatoes are thriving like greasy, fat people in Mississippi, and I saw two madly bats flying around madly in a mad rush of madness and madliness and the god-mad-insane freedom of nighttime.
And this kid is obsessed with me at the summer camp.
He shares a name with a kid I obsess over.
Fact: Fate loves irony.
Well.
Eternally busy, stressed, self-absorbed, and less than a month to go.
God,
Right now would be a cool time to appear and do awesomeness.
On second thought, our morals don't match too well,
So just the do awesomeness part, ok?
Olivia makes a nice mascot, I think.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Bible study
I came late, and they had gone to TGI Friday's for dinner.
I chased the fireflies and watched swallows over the lake for an hour before they came.
We only had 15 minutes left by the time we started, and there were only five of us, but we had a lot of fun.
On the way home, the guy told me I had a good heart, and it made me happy.
And I thought, "God's children are quite nice, after all."
I don't think I've ever thought so well of God in a while.
Perhaps I'm looking forward to meeting next Tuesday.
I chased the fireflies and watched swallows over the lake for an hour before they came.
We only had 15 minutes left by the time we started, and there were only five of us, but we had a lot of fun.
On the way home, the guy told me I had a good heart, and it made me happy.
And I thought, "God's children are quite nice, after all."
I don't think I've ever thought so well of God in a while.
Perhaps I'm looking forward to meeting next Tuesday.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Couldn't sleep last night...
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows, but one in the basement won't close.
She decides to leave it open, but locks the basement door and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more, she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye; she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
Alright, so I read a few urban legends before bed, but as long as I don't think too much about them, I'll be fine, right?
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Shit...I can't think like that. Reverse psychology. The polar bear experiment.
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
God, I'm praying now, see? God, help me! God, show me you exist....
No answer. Dead or asleep?
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Damn,damn,damn.....
A distraction... Happy thoughts...
Two years have passed, and I'm on the bridge. It's winter, but the water hasn't frozen yet, I think. She's there, and I'm still a little upset.
"Do you think I need to change, perhaps? I don't think I'm measuring up... just tell me what I have to change about myself..." Would I? Maybe I'm not actually so selfish.
I wonder what she would say.
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Goddammit.........................
I get up. I'll open the door, I suppose. Anna's still up; I can hear her. Careful, step over the side of the bed, don't wanna get licked......
Let there be light! said the Lord to his world.
The door is open now. The light comes in at a funny angle, all the shadows melt. The story seems so silly with the door open, I thought. The lights outside my window are flickering now in front of my closed eyelids like a television set in an empty room.
I'm cold, so I put on my blankets, but then I'm sweating. Repeat for an hour and then I put on my pajama tops.
I don't remember when I fell asleep.
She decides to leave it open, but locks the basement door and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more, she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye; she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
Alright, so I read a few urban legends before bed, but as long as I don't think too much about them, I'll be fine, right?
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Shit...I can't think like that. Reverse psychology. The polar bear experiment.
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
God, I'm praying now, see? God, help me! God, show me you exist....
No answer. Dead or asleep?
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Damn,damn,damn.....
A distraction... Happy thoughts...
Two years have passed, and I'm on the bridge. It's winter, but the water hasn't frozen yet, I think. She's there, and I'm still a little upset.
"Do you think I need to change, perhaps? I don't think I'm measuring up... just tell me what I have to change about myself..." Would I? Maybe I'm not actually so selfish.
I wonder what she would say.
"HUMANS CAN LICK TOO."
Goddammit.........................
I get up. I'll open the door, I suppose. Anna's still up; I can hear her. Careful, step over the side of the bed, don't wanna get licked......
Let there be light! said the Lord to his world.
The door is open now. The light comes in at a funny angle, all the shadows melt. The story seems so silly with the door open, I thought. The lights outside my window are flickering now in front of my closed eyelids like a television set in an empty room.
I'm cold, so I put on my blankets, but then I'm sweating. Repeat for an hour and then I put on my pajama tops.
I don't remember when I fell asleep.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Oh, my first comment...
All of a sudden, this feels like whining now, not writing...
But I shouldn't say that... some people are guilt-stricken so easily...
me, definitely.
I'll keep writing.
Like...
Today I read the story of Samson, and I was expecting to cry, and I did.
I mean, the angel came and told his mom, and he was out on the field on a windy day, I imagined, and she called out to her husband, and they were happy...
And the other time, he was pissed like they had no idea, and they burned his wife... He burned their fields.
And he killed a bunch of them, and he was so thirsty and tired afterwards, and perhaps it was the sun shining down on him, no clouds, that made him so tired of having these stupid things happen to him, but then he found water, so it's all good.
And at the end, his eyes were gone, and he braced himself against the pillars, and he was probably upset at himself, and he pulled down the entire temple, and then he won.
And like... I think he found something amazing.
And then I haven't cried in forever. I think I was in love all over again, too.
But it all disappeared just yesterday, and today I still have that empty feeling, bitter brown medicine, empty tires, whateverness.
I wonder if Samson went to Heaven.
But I shouldn't say that... some people are guilt-stricken so easily...
me, definitely.
I'll keep writing.
Like...
Today I read the story of Samson, and I was expecting to cry, and I did.
I mean, the angel came and told his mom, and he was out on the field on a windy day, I imagined, and she called out to her husband, and they were happy...
And the other time, he was pissed like they had no idea, and they burned his wife... He burned their fields.
And he killed a bunch of them, and he was so thirsty and tired afterwards, and perhaps it was the sun shining down on him, no clouds, that made him so tired of having these stupid things happen to him, but then he found water, so it's all good.
And at the end, his eyes were gone, and he braced himself against the pillars, and he was probably upset at himself, and he pulled down the entire temple, and then he won.
And like... I think he found something amazing.
And then I haven't cried in forever. I think I was in love all over again, too.
But it all disappeared just yesterday, and today I still have that empty feeling, bitter brown medicine, empty tires, whateverness.
I wonder if Samson went to Heaven.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
If I was God...
I would make the world a more beautiful place. E and shrooms would be their Bible, and maybe once in a while, I would make miracles happen, or perhaps come and visit.
I'd make everyone really want to love one another.
And I would let the people choose whom they want to fall in love with. They wouldn't have to lose their temper or struggle with misplaced love or selfishness.
And I don't know what I would do about suffering. Sometimes something wrong makes an ideal so much more appealing, and inequality gives you something to fight against. But I wouldn't be so good of a god anymore if I just wanted a good play to watch, would I?
I think I'd make a bad god.
But...
At least my people wouldn't feel like sputniks.
Hey... today, I talked to an old friend of mine, and she was very nice... and the art teacher complimented my artwork quite a lot... like "best I've ever seen!"
I was happy, I guess.
Yet I felt arrogant and commercialized and fake and angry at myself...
And I've been so depressed this week because of this story I read... Here<-- Genie, I wish I could have saved her. Why did they stop helping her? I wish I could help her.
Sometimes I do wish the world was like this really beautiful place.
I'd make everyone really want to love one another.
And I would let the people choose whom they want to fall in love with. They wouldn't have to lose their temper or struggle with misplaced love or selfishness.
And I don't know what I would do about suffering. Sometimes something wrong makes an ideal so much more appealing, and inequality gives you something to fight against. But I wouldn't be so good of a god anymore if I just wanted a good play to watch, would I?
I think I'd make a bad god.
But...
At least my people wouldn't feel like sputniks.
Hey... today, I talked to an old friend of mine, and she was very nice... and the art teacher complimented my artwork quite a lot... like "best I've ever seen!"
I was happy, I guess.
Yet I felt arrogant and commercialized and fake and angry at myself...
And I've been so depressed this week because of this story I read... Here<-- Genie, I wish I could have saved her. Why did they stop helping her? I wish I could help her.
Sometimes I do wish the world was like this really beautiful place.
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