I had a dream, that a creature came out if the night and whispered to me. And it tore my face away from me, and I died.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
SCIENCE.
A fact is a fact,
It is the emotion that follows the knowing of it that makes it significant, meaningless, sad, happy, good, bad or anything at all.
The fact has not changed. It is only a fact.
It is the emotion that follows the knowing of it that makes it significant, meaningless, sad, happy, good, bad or anything at all.
The fact has not changed. It is only a fact.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Calf Skin Wallets
The deterioration by age and time, is perhaps the saddest thing I know of.
Cruel indeed is our fallen world that knife edges, once so sharp as to cut through all the problems of the world with a wink and a laugh, are dulled. They become useful now only as letter openers, drudging on, fumbling in the grayness and growing slow in the cold.
Cruel indeed is our fallen world that knife edges, once so sharp as to cut through all the problems of the world with a wink and a laugh, are dulled. They become useful now only as letter openers, drudging on, fumbling in the grayness and growing slow in the cold.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Recycling
Fashion recycles itself, said my year three school teacher, Miss Kerr, and I have always been of the opinion that she was waiting for her style to return. The one where hair buns and hairy stockings feature heavily.
But despite her lack of taste, she was correct. Humans do think in very circular ways.
Take watches.
In the early twentieth century and before it, a gentleman, and some enterprising women also, kept time pieces. They would wind them and put them in their pockets.
Before the first world war, carrying you watch in you pocket was the only manly thing to do. Only ladies wore wrist watches or 'wristlets'. The common statement made by a modern gentleman being "I should sooner wear a skirt than a wrist watch".
However, the soldiers fighting dreary sodden fights in the trenches were the people to realize that if you want to know the time and simultaneously also don't want a bullet in your brain, you can't be fiddling with a watch in your pocket, or having it fall out and being lost.
So a design was made that was transitional between a pocket watch, and a wrist watch, which many soldiers wore. It was called the trench watch
Over time, such a device was superseded by wrist watches with quarts movement and metal bands, and were popular, as no one could say a wrist watch was unmanly, they being worn by soldiers.
Then came the nineties, and with it mobile phones. The brick phone became the first ever flip phone, and that became the Nokia 3-whatever with a back lit green-black screen, and soon most everyone had a small electrical companion capable of telling the time, date, calculating small numbers, and not least, talking to other people.
For my generation, wrist watches had become redundant. Many young people do wear them, but they are far from necessary.
If you are under twenty five, and you want to know the time, you probably check your pocket watch. It is, as Miss Kerr said, recycling.
What is the point of my little tale? The point is, that the 'modern' thought, isn't modern at all. You've all seen it on tv or the net, "2012, end of the world!" or perhaps, "fuck off we're full!" displayed in a charming fashion on car windows. Hate, fear, they aren't modern. They aren't original. Guess what they thought when the bubonic plague hit? "end of the world!" guess what they thought of Germanic people coming to England?
Only a human would be so arrogant to believe that if all the humans died the world would end.
So please, I'm begging you, think something original. Think something nice.
But despite her lack of taste, she was correct. Humans do think in very circular ways.
Take watches.
In the early twentieth century and before it, a gentleman, and some enterprising women also, kept time pieces. They would wind them and put them in their pockets.
Before the first world war, carrying you watch in you pocket was the only manly thing to do. Only ladies wore wrist watches or 'wristlets'. The common statement made by a modern gentleman being "I should sooner wear a skirt than a wrist watch".
However, the soldiers fighting dreary sodden fights in the trenches were the people to realize that if you want to know the time and simultaneously also don't want a bullet in your brain, you can't be fiddling with a watch in your pocket, or having it fall out and being lost.
So a design was made that was transitional between a pocket watch, and a wrist watch, which many soldiers wore. It was called the trench watch
Over time, such a device was superseded by wrist watches with quarts movement and metal bands, and were popular, as no one could say a wrist watch was unmanly, they being worn by soldiers.
Then came the nineties, and with it mobile phones. The brick phone became the first ever flip phone, and that became the Nokia 3-whatever with a back lit green-black screen, and soon most everyone had a small electrical companion capable of telling the time, date, calculating small numbers, and not least, talking to other people.
For my generation, wrist watches had become redundant. Many young people do wear them, but they are far from necessary.
If you are under twenty five, and you want to know the time, you probably check your pocket watch. It is, as Miss Kerr said, recycling.
What is the point of my little tale? The point is, that the 'modern' thought, isn't modern at all. You've all seen it on tv or the net, "2012, end of the world!" or perhaps, "fuck off we're full!" displayed in a charming fashion on car windows. Hate, fear, they aren't modern. They aren't original. Guess what they thought when the bubonic plague hit? "end of the world!" guess what they thought of Germanic people coming to England?
Only a human would be so arrogant to believe that if all the humans died the world would end.
So please, I'm begging you, think something original. Think something nice.
Friday, April 15, 2011
As Lost As A Thing
Deep in the sea, in the deepest sea,
There is a thing waiting so long for me,
Out in the dreams where fishes swim,
The angels say "There is a thing for him"
Past the sky, the stars, and Saturn's ring,
There is a lonely, lost, forgotten thing.
In the airless cold of frozen outer space,
It waits for me, in it's icy, lost and secret place.
On the highest mountain in a distant world,
Where a day of light has never unfurled,
In the wind and storm, and the snow and fear,
The thing I long for, it waits here.
It is a tiny thing, that lurks in mystery,
It is the special thing, for no-one but me.
It isn't bright or loud, or full of hate or joy,
It isn't a bauble or children's play-thing toy.
It is my thing, I have so foolishly lost.
It waits for me, in the night, water, or frost.
Where is it now, my treasured prize?
What use are these dull, doll eyes?!
If I cannot see, touch, taste or know it,
If Liminal breaches do not show it?
What is it? Where is it? Why cannot my memory recall?
WHY CAN I KNOW NOT WHAT IT IS AT ALL!
God take this thorn out from my mind!
Let the spring of these clockwork thoughts unwind!
I know I sit on a broken seat.
I know only I am incomplete.
There is a thing waiting so long for me,
Out in the dreams where fishes swim,
The angels say "There is a thing for him"
Past the sky, the stars, and Saturn's ring,
There is a lonely, lost, forgotten thing.
In the airless cold of frozen outer space,
It waits for me, in it's icy, lost and secret place.
On the highest mountain in a distant world,
Where a day of light has never unfurled,
In the wind and storm, and the snow and fear,
The thing I long for, it waits here.
It is a tiny thing, that lurks in mystery,
It is the special thing, for no-one but me.
It isn't bright or loud, or full of hate or joy,
It isn't a bauble or children's play-thing toy.
It is my thing, I have so foolishly lost.
It waits for me, in the night, water, or frost.
Where is it now, my treasured prize?
What use are these dull, doll eyes?!
If I cannot see, touch, taste or know it,
If Liminal breaches do not show it?
What is it? Where is it? Why cannot my memory recall?
WHY CAN I KNOW NOT WHAT IT IS AT ALL!
God take this thorn out from my mind!
Let the spring of these clockwork thoughts unwind!
I know I sit on a broken seat.
I know only I am incomplete.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
I, Rat
"You can only walk so far from your true self until you are pulled back, or the cord snaps"
I've never not been afraid. I've never been a fighter, or tenacious. When challenged, I run away. When upset or offended, I ignore. When insulted, I become not angry but sad.
That's not to say I don't get angry. I do fairly frequently. I'm just not very good at it. My voice goes squeaky and I get flustered and generally make a fool of myself.
I could never have been a warrior or a soldier. Submitting simply seems easier than fighting against the juggernaut of life. And I see not why it is that that is a bad thing.
I wonder what it is sometimes that makes me, me.
I think that is who I am. A coward, a snaker around of problems, he who flees, he who avoids. I could have been a mouse, or a rat, quite well. I take comfort from this.
I've never not been afraid. I've never been a fighter, or tenacious. When challenged, I run away. When upset or offended, I ignore. When insulted, I become not angry but sad.
That's not to say I don't get angry. I do fairly frequently. I'm just not very good at it. My voice goes squeaky and I get flustered and generally make a fool of myself.
I could never have been a warrior or a soldier. Submitting simply seems easier than fighting against the juggernaut of life. And I see not why it is that that is a bad thing.
I wonder what it is sometimes that makes me, me.
I think that is who I am. A coward, a snaker around of problems, he who flees, he who avoids. I could have been a mouse, or a rat, quite well. I take comfort from this.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
It Applies to Everyone.
Never pray for justice. If there were justice, then we'd all be dead.
Toads that hop along the road,
Squashed by tiers as they go,
There are far too many after all,
Do your best to squash some more.
People jump and people run
Gosh they have them so much fun.
While children bake and starve and die
Try to forget, you should remember it, why?
The truth is the colossal joke,
That if humans went up in smoke,
The world would get on very well,
Let's face it, we deserve to go to hell.
Toads that hop along the road,
Squashed by tiers as they go,
There are far too many after all,
Do your best to squash some more.
People jump and people run
Gosh they have them so much fun.
While children bake and starve and die
Try to forget, you should remember it, why?
The truth is the colossal joke,
That if humans went up in smoke,
The world would get on very well,
Let's face it, we deserve to go to hell.
Thank You
You don't make my life a million times better.
And you don't save me from some sort of deep dark pit.
And you don't protect me from the harsh cruelty of the world with your love.
You don't do all those ridiculous things they claim their lovers do.
You aren't "the only reason I live baby".
And if you left me, I wouldn't jump off a bridge.
But when I'm with you, my leg never hurts.
And when I'm with you, the voices grow quieter.
Men who claim to have to power of God did less.
And doctors who are trained to solve such problems did less.
And the happiest memories I have do less.
And that's all I've ever wanted. And nobody and nothing else does that, or ever has.
And you don't save me from some sort of deep dark pit.
And you don't protect me from the harsh cruelty of the world with your love.
You don't do all those ridiculous things they claim their lovers do.
You aren't "the only reason I live baby".
And if you left me, I wouldn't jump off a bridge.
But when I'm with you, my leg never hurts.
And when I'm with you, the voices grow quieter.
Men who claim to have to power of God did less.
And doctors who are trained to solve such problems did less.
And the happiest memories I have do less.
And that's all I've ever wanted. And nobody and nothing else does that, or ever has.
Relative Emotion
Legally, I am now an adult. However, the only reason why we have a difference between 'child' and 'adult' is because humans make boundaries around things so that they make sense.
Logically, the only difference between a human brain and a computer complex enough to mimic it totally is that one was crafted by a human, the other was born of one. That is, in practice, no difference at all.
The reason we call one 'a computer' and one 'a brain' is because we made a difference between them. Just like how we made a difference between light and darkness, years and hours, drunk and sober, right and wrong.
There are differences to these things. But if we were not here to name them, they would not exist.
My point is, if I am an adult on the ninth of April 2011, I was an adult on the eighth. And if I wasn't, I'm not now. As with all things, there is no dividing line between 'adult' and 'child' as there is none between 'complex robot' and 'human'. They are just words. It is the meaning and emotion put to those words that give them power.
Logically, the only difference between a human brain and a computer complex enough to mimic it totally is that one was crafted by a human, the other was born of one. That is, in practice, no difference at all.
The reason we call one 'a computer' and one 'a brain' is because we made a difference between them. Just like how we made a difference between light and darkness, years and hours, drunk and sober, right and wrong.
There are differences to these things. But if we were not here to name them, they would not exist.
My point is, if I am an adult on the ninth of April 2011, I was an adult on the eighth. And if I wasn't, I'm not now. As with all things, there is no dividing line between 'adult' and 'child' as there is none between 'complex robot' and 'human'. They are just words. It is the meaning and emotion put to those words that give them power.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Joe Collins
Neil Gaiman once said that the best description of a story was the story itself, and that the best map of any landscape would be the landscape itself. He then said it would also therefore be useless.
What he meant was that to understand something, to see it exactly as it is, and to know what it is, you must see it as it is. It cannot be diluted with explanation or sullied with bias. It must be lived to be understood. However the tragedy of humanity is that we have too little time to explore landscapes, and people. And that we will never truly understand anything.
Well, he could have meant something else, but that's what I took away from it.
I recently had a relatively small identity crisis. I felt that I didn't know who I was.
When I asked people who I was, they often replied with "You're Joel, you wear black, you're crazy."
I was dissatisfied. I explored myself, asking that same question over and over. I often replied with, "You're a liar" or "You're one of six and a half billion people" or "You're insane".
So I asked someone who loves me who they thought I was, she replied that "You are smart, honest and I love you"
That rather contradicted what I felt about myself but I plowed on ahead.
I was then going to ask someone who knows me very very well what he thought of me, but it was two in the morning at this point. So he was probably sleeping off the maths homework.
I realized though, that the only reason why I had this lack-of-self-knowledge feeling, was that that's just how I was programmed.
Humans see patterns where they do not exist. And one of those patterns is our sense of identity.
I recovered enough to eat some cheese and go to sleep.
I still don't know who I am, but I do know exactly who I'm not, that is, anyone else.
What he meant was that to understand something, to see it exactly as it is, and to know what it is, you must see it as it is. It cannot be diluted with explanation or sullied with bias. It must be lived to be understood. However the tragedy of humanity is that we have too little time to explore landscapes, and people. And that we will never truly understand anything.
Well, he could have meant something else, but that's what I took away from it.
I recently had a relatively small identity crisis. I felt that I didn't know who I was.
When I asked people who I was, they often replied with "You're Joel, you wear black, you're crazy."
I was dissatisfied. I explored myself, asking that same question over and over. I often replied with, "You're a liar" or "You're one of six and a half billion people" or "You're insane".
So I asked someone who loves me who they thought I was, she replied that "You are smart, honest and I love you"
That rather contradicted what I felt about myself but I plowed on ahead.
I was then going to ask someone who knows me very very well what he thought of me, but it was two in the morning at this point. So he was probably sleeping off the maths homework.
I realized though, that the only reason why I had this lack-of-self-knowledge feeling, was that that's just how I was programmed.
Humans see patterns where they do not exist. And one of those patterns is our sense of identity.
I recovered enough to eat some cheese and go to sleep.
I still don't know who I am, but I do know exactly who I'm not, that is, anyone else.
Wax That Lyricism
"Somedays, when I'm awfully low, I will feel a glow just thinking of myself with superhuman powers."
- Michael Bublé
Who am I kidding? He already is a superman. After all, he can make any woman over the age of fifty, and many others besides, fall in love with him.
I'm hilarious.
- Michael Bublé
Who am I kidding? He already is a superman. After all, he can make any woman over the age of fifty, and many others besides, fall in love with him.
I'm hilarious.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The Cry of the Minotaur.
"The darkness must go,
Down the river of night's dreaming.
Flow Morpheus slow,
And light comes streaming into my life."
If you have ever looked into Greek mythology, then you may know the story of the Minotaur.
Here is the reasonably true to the original but slightly en-Joelanated version.
Once long ago there was a King, and his wife, the Queen, was with child.
Through some strange twist of fate that changes from tale to tale, the unborn prince was cursed, by witch, god, demon or otherwise.
The child born out this curse was horribly deformed: He was found to be a Minotaur, a nightmarish amalgam of human child and bull calf.
The child was secretly raised, and grew strong and violent quickly, killing several serving folk before the age of three.
The King knew that this deranged creature could not be left to grow, nor could he find it in him to kill his own son. So, he hired the ingenious inventor, Icarus, who appears in other tales, to build a great labyrinth to house the beast.
It was done swiftly, and the abomination was locked within, incapable of puzzling a way out of the maze.
The King sent into the labyrinth every month, through random selection, a woman of maidan-hood to sate the hungers of the beast, both for flesh to eat and lust to slick.
After sixteen years, the very great population of the city was barely diminished, but always at the back of the citizen's minds was the thought of who's daughter would be next devoted to and devoured by the monster.
Then came a fateful day, when the name of the girl selected for
the beast to consume at the end of the month was that of the princess, and daughter of the king.
The King agonized with himself, and offered anything to anyone who could provide a solution to giving his daughter to the mercies of the wretched Minotaur.
As the adage goes, "Cometh the hour, Cometh the man." and so stepped forward the hero Theseus. He asked the king if he might be allowed to go into the labyrinth in the princesses stead, and if he should return, be given whatever reward the king felt fit.
So, on the night of the new month, Theseus was stripped of all his clothes but his undergarments. The princess escorted him, and gave him two gifts to help him in his battle against her brother. She gave him a long ball of yarn and a sword.
So with only these things he walked near naked into the labyrinth of the Minotaur. The hero tied one end of the yarn to a post outside the gate, and the other he held tight to.
After several hours of wandering, he came upon the monstrous creature. For a day and a night they fought, hoof and horn against fist and blade. Finally though, when the two were nearly spent, Theseus thrust his blade deep into the chest of the abomination, killing it.
Exhausted, he followed the twine the princess gave him back out of the maze, to be greeted by a grateful population.
The king announced that his reward was the hand of the willing princess in marriage, and as she was his daughter, the heir-hood to the throne. There were many great celebrations and everyone from the kings soldiers to the lowliest beggar rejoiced as though such a gift had been handed to them too.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
But you know, they left something out of that story. They left out the way, when he saw his son, the look of utter disgust the King gave. They forgot the fleeing in terror the servants made as they watched the prince attempt to make words with the cumbersome bull mouth he had been given. They forgot the lonely cry of the boy who was locked away from the world in the dark for no crime more than an having an unsatisfied father. They forgot his attempts to help lost girls sent into his maze to forage for food as he did, how he cried over their bodies as they died for want of food, air and sunlight. They forgot the final look in the deep, sad, brown eyes of the Minotaur as a man with a sword rushed towards him.
They forgot the prince, and saw only the Monster.
Down the river of night's dreaming.
Flow Morpheus slow,
And light comes streaming into my life."
If you have ever looked into Greek mythology, then you may know the story of the Minotaur.
Here is the reasonably true to the original but slightly en-Joelanated version.
Once long ago there was a King, and his wife, the Queen, was with child.
Through some strange twist of fate that changes from tale to tale, the unborn prince was cursed, by witch, god, demon or otherwise.
The child born out this curse was horribly deformed: He was found to be a Minotaur, a nightmarish amalgam of human child and bull calf.
The child was secretly raised, and grew strong and violent quickly, killing several serving folk before the age of three.
The King knew that this deranged creature could not be left to grow, nor could he find it in him to kill his own son. So, he hired the ingenious inventor, Icarus, who appears in other tales, to build a great labyrinth to house the beast.
It was done swiftly, and the abomination was locked within, incapable of puzzling a way out of the maze.
The King sent into the labyrinth every month, through random selection, a woman of maidan-hood to sate the hungers of the beast, both for flesh to eat and lust to slick.
After sixteen years, the very great population of the city was barely diminished, but always at the back of the citizen's minds was the thought of who's daughter would be next devoted to and devoured by the monster.
Then came a fateful day, when the name of the girl selected for
the beast to consume at the end of the month was that of the princess, and daughter of the king.
The King agonized with himself, and offered anything to anyone who could provide a solution to giving his daughter to the mercies of the wretched Minotaur.
As the adage goes, "Cometh the hour, Cometh the man." and so stepped forward the hero Theseus. He asked the king if he might be allowed to go into the labyrinth in the princesses stead, and if he should return, be given whatever reward the king felt fit.
So, on the night of the new month, Theseus was stripped of all his clothes but his undergarments. The princess escorted him, and gave him two gifts to help him in his battle against her brother. She gave him a long ball of yarn and a sword.
So with only these things he walked near naked into the labyrinth of the Minotaur. The hero tied one end of the yarn to a post outside the gate, and the other he held tight to.
After several hours of wandering, he came upon the monstrous creature. For a day and a night they fought, hoof and horn against fist and blade. Finally though, when the two were nearly spent, Theseus thrust his blade deep into the chest of the abomination, killing it.
Exhausted, he followed the twine the princess gave him back out of the maze, to be greeted by a grateful population.
The king announced that his reward was the hand of the willing princess in marriage, and as she was his daughter, the heir-hood to the throne. There were many great celebrations and everyone from the kings soldiers to the lowliest beggar rejoiced as though such a gift had been handed to them too.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
But you know, they left something out of that story. They left out the way, when he saw his son, the look of utter disgust the King gave. They forgot the fleeing in terror the servants made as they watched the prince attempt to make words with the cumbersome bull mouth he had been given. They forgot the lonely cry of the boy who was locked away from the world in the dark for no crime more than an having an unsatisfied father. They forgot his attempts to help lost girls sent into his maze to forage for food as he did, how he cried over their bodies as they died for want of food, air and sunlight. They forgot the final look in the deep, sad, brown eyes of the Minotaur as a man with a sword rushed towards him.
They forgot the prince, and saw only the Monster.
Monday, April 4, 2011
I Am Your Equal, Am I Not?
I feel insulted when people claim that my gender is no longer needed.
Personally I would like to see the first child made of only female pieces. Bet you any money it's dumber than me. Also that it's likely deformed.
But seriously. Women are incredibly sexist to and about men. I frequently hear that, "All men want is sex" and "Well never mind, all boys are stupid" or perhaps, "the only thing they are good for is lifting heavy things and not reading instructions."
Imagine if I translated such thoughts to a male perspective and about women. If I said such sexist and disparaging things I think I would quickly find myself without many friends.
All boys want is not sex and food. Such thinking is a blatant lie. And just because you and your friends think it so does not mean it is. You don't know what we think, you certainly don't know what I think. If half of you can think thoughts of my calibre I would be greatly surprised. And I'm not just talking about girls and women, I'm talking about men and boys who are unwilling to voice and portray their thoughts for fear of being thought feminine. Real men, it seems, cannot think of anything beyond practical and present thoughts lest they be considered a "wimp". For thinking? For exploring emotions instead if burying them?
Fuck you both. I'm male. Little girls, I am not ruled by my dick. And little boys, I am not so afraid of what my peers will think of me to avoid feeling sad.
Seriously. Fuck you and your sexist comments.
Personally I would like to see the first child made of only female pieces. Bet you any money it's dumber than me. Also that it's likely deformed.
But seriously. Women are incredibly sexist to and about men. I frequently hear that, "All men want is sex" and "Well never mind, all boys are stupid" or perhaps, "the only thing they are good for is lifting heavy things and not reading instructions."
Imagine if I translated such thoughts to a male perspective and about women. If I said such sexist and disparaging things I think I would quickly find myself without many friends.
All boys want is not sex and food. Such thinking is a blatant lie. And just because you and your friends think it so does not mean it is. You don't know what we think, you certainly don't know what I think. If half of you can think thoughts of my calibre I would be greatly surprised. And I'm not just talking about girls and women, I'm talking about men and boys who are unwilling to voice and portray their thoughts for fear of being thought feminine. Real men, it seems, cannot think of anything beyond practical and present thoughts lest they be considered a "wimp". For thinking? For exploring emotions instead if burying them?
Fuck you both. I'm male. Little girls, I am not ruled by my dick. And little boys, I am not so afraid of what my peers will think of me to avoid feeling sad.
Seriously. Fuck you and your sexist comments.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Why Free Will Exists
Let me start my argument by saying, free will cannot exist.
God in his mighty power, knows everything. He is what we call 'omniscient'.
If this is so, that means that he knows every aspect of the future, and the way everything will be.
Because of this predetermined knowledge of God, free will is a concept available to only linear time perspective creatures, that is, us. To us, the future does not exist, and the past is distant. To God it has all already happened, thus our choices are all already made. And they always have been.
Even if you do not believe in God, the way the matter of our universe works also suggests this. That is, the irrefutable laws of physics demands that everything has and will continue to happen in a certain way that is predetermined. A ball falls, it bounces one way or another, not because it has made a choice, but because of it's interaction with the universe. Though our brains are vastly more complex than a single ball bouncing, they still obey the laws of physics. They will make a different chemical reaction, and thus a different "choice" depending upon their interaction with the universe. Choice is an illusion.
However. I believe that the entirety of our existence is one of illusion. Both for spiritual and scientific reasons.
I believe our limited reality is a super imposed virtual world built on top of the true world and universe that is God's ultimate reality.
Albert Einstein proved that time is an illusion, as I stated above, and that all moments happen simultaneously. The only way we can make sense of anything as humans is to limit it. Time is cut into, past, present and future. Infinity is cut into smaller pieces of space we call 'areas' or 'distances'. In actual fact, all places are the same place.
What I am going to say next may seem both conceited and insane. Please don't take it that way. Something Catherine said to me yesterday made me think of this.
I along with certain other people have such a small amount of understanding about the illusions that make sanity possible that one can kind of see the line where they start, as it were. It's not actually that hard. Anyone can do it if they try hard enough. I wouldn't recommend it.
I sometimes have nightmares where my brain is stripped of its illusions just enough to make everything so mad I scream quietly to myself in my own head.
It's like being half in, and half out of something. Because the illusions are still there, shouting at you that 'this is the way the world works!' but at the same time, I can see what is happening. That everything is the same, that all times are the one time.
I imagine that if they were totally stripped from my mind it would be calming. But because those stubborn human thoughts are still present and fighting against it well... Metaphor time.
it's sort of like sewing a dog and cat together and trying to put them into a dog/cat show. It's alive, the dog and the cat are both still alive, they are struggling against each other mewing and barking in pain. The sewing is evident, and what you've done provokes a certain reaction.
i.e: A total abomination that everyone thinks should die.
THAT reaction I have to the abomination in my head is the thing that makes me scream quietly.
The moral of the story is that free will does exist, in the same way that events happen in order, and Sydney is not in Canberra. In a totally human way. It's not like we are forcing these incorrect concepts on anyone. They are simply necessary lies to make life possible. They are the bricks and mortar that make life possible. And they are just as real as bricks and mortar.
God in his mighty power, knows everything. He is what we call 'omniscient'.
If this is so, that means that he knows every aspect of the future, and the way everything will be.
Because of this predetermined knowledge of God, free will is a concept available to only linear time perspective creatures, that is, us. To us, the future does not exist, and the past is distant. To God it has all already happened, thus our choices are all already made. And they always have been.
Even if you do not believe in God, the way the matter of our universe works also suggests this. That is, the irrefutable laws of physics demands that everything has and will continue to happen in a certain way that is predetermined. A ball falls, it bounces one way or another, not because it has made a choice, but because of it's interaction with the universe. Though our brains are vastly more complex than a single ball bouncing, they still obey the laws of physics. They will make a different chemical reaction, and thus a different "choice" depending upon their interaction with the universe. Choice is an illusion.
However. I believe that the entirety of our existence is one of illusion. Both for spiritual and scientific reasons.
I believe our limited reality is a super imposed virtual world built on top of the true world and universe that is God's ultimate reality.
Albert Einstein proved that time is an illusion, as I stated above, and that all moments happen simultaneously. The only way we can make sense of anything as humans is to limit it. Time is cut into, past, present and future. Infinity is cut into smaller pieces of space we call 'areas' or 'distances'. In actual fact, all places are the same place.
What I am going to say next may seem both conceited and insane. Please don't take it that way. Something Catherine said to me yesterday made me think of this.
I along with certain other people have such a small amount of understanding about the illusions that make sanity possible that one can kind of see the line where they start, as it were. It's not actually that hard. Anyone can do it if they try hard enough. I wouldn't recommend it.
I sometimes have nightmares where my brain is stripped of its illusions just enough to make everything so mad I scream quietly to myself in my own head.
It's like being half in, and half out of something. Because the illusions are still there, shouting at you that 'this is the way the world works!' but at the same time, I can see what is happening. That everything is the same, that all times are the one time.
I imagine that if they were totally stripped from my mind it would be calming. But because those stubborn human thoughts are still present and fighting against it well... Metaphor time.
it's sort of like sewing a dog and cat together and trying to put them into a dog/cat show. It's alive, the dog and the cat are both still alive, they are struggling against each other mewing and barking in pain. The sewing is evident, and what you've done provokes a certain reaction.
i.e: A total abomination that everyone thinks should die.
THAT reaction I have to the abomination in my head is the thing that makes me scream quietly.
The moral of the story is that free will does exist, in the same way that events happen in order, and Sydney is not in Canberra. In a totally human way. It's not like we are forcing these incorrect concepts on anyone. They are simply necessary lies to make life possible. They are the bricks and mortar that make life possible. And they are just as real as bricks and mortar.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Charming.
A person who prefers South should not disagree with a person who prefers North. They are people, the only difference is the direction they travel in.
At the end of the day, they will be brought apart by their desire of orientation, but everyone is different. In a society as complex as ours we should be able to move past such superficial differences.
At the end of the day, they will be brought apart by their desire of orientation, but everyone is different. In a society as complex as ours we should be able to move past such superficial differences.
Hello Night.
I am made of dirt.
I am made of God.
I am made of questions.
"The purpose of humans" is something that humans always want to know.
One school of thought is that such an answer is obtainable but not yet present. That one day we will know our ultimate purpose.
(examples: Scientology, Neo paganism, New Age)
Or that the purpose of humans is something very mundane, to love, to exist, to serve God, to care for the earth, to make scientific discoveries etc.
(examples: Mainstream Christianity, Buddhism, Humanism)
Another thought often had is that humans look for an answer where there is none. That existence is inherently random and to look for answer where no real question exists is a flawed human trait.
(examples: Nihilism, Certain types of Absurdism, Atheist Satanism)
I might be called a Christian Nihilist, or perhaps a Christian Absurdist.
Because you see, I believe that humans have a soul (that is, an existence in God's ultimate reality upon which this reality is super-imposed, but that's COMPLICATED). I believe God exists, that he loves his creation, and that there is a purpose to us.
However.
I believe that humans are vile disgusting things, ignorant and evil out of choice and filled will their own self importance. The idea that humans will ever be able to discover enough about this multi layered, many faceted thing that we call the universe with our own mere five senses to completely understand anything at all, let alone anything of significance, about the true nature of the place that exists outside of this comparably limited shell of life is laughable.
All of this makes me feel warm and fuzzy. It brings a smile to my mouth, a tear to my eye, and a bright light to my young, but nonetheless jaded and cynical heart.
And I'll tell you why.
It means that this horrible world, with horrible people and horrible ideas really isn't all there is to the majestic wonder of God's creation. There are better things.
That is why I am a happy, cynical, Christian, Nihilist. Goodnight.
I am made of God.
I am made of questions.
"The purpose of humans" is something that humans always want to know.
One school of thought is that such an answer is obtainable but not yet present. That one day we will know our ultimate purpose.
(examples: Scientology, Neo paganism, New Age)
Or that the purpose of humans is something very mundane, to love, to exist, to serve God, to care for the earth, to make scientific discoveries etc.
(examples: Mainstream Christianity, Buddhism, Humanism)
Another thought often had is that humans look for an answer where there is none. That existence is inherently random and to look for answer where no real question exists is a flawed human trait.
(examples: Nihilism, Certain types of Absurdism, Atheist Satanism)
I might be called a Christian Nihilist, or perhaps a Christian Absurdist.
Because you see, I believe that humans have a soul (that is, an existence in God's ultimate reality upon which this reality is super-imposed, but that's COMPLICATED). I believe God exists, that he loves his creation, and that there is a purpose to us.
However.
I believe that humans are vile disgusting things, ignorant and evil out of choice and filled will their own self importance. The idea that humans will ever be able to discover enough about this multi layered, many faceted thing that we call the universe with our own mere five senses to completely understand anything at all, let alone anything of significance, about the true nature of the place that exists outside of this comparably limited shell of life is laughable.
All of this makes me feel warm and fuzzy. It brings a smile to my mouth, a tear to my eye, and a bright light to my young, but nonetheless jaded and cynical heart.
And I'll tell you why.
It means that this horrible world, with horrible people and horrible ideas really isn't all there is to the majestic wonder of God's creation. There are better things.
That is why I am a happy, cynical, Christian, Nihilist. Goodnight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)