Many people wonder why so many events, good or bad, are happening to them. Why does it seem that, far too often all the bad occurs at one time. We might even look around and see someone much more deserving of what we are suffering through, yet they are surrounded by good fortune. Why is this? Well, to be honest, it is all just an illusion of the universe.
To begin to understand the truth of the matter we must first realize a few core truths. The universe is and we are simply a part of it. It may throw hardships or pain our way but we must remember that when they occur, it not because the universe hates us or has singled us out, but because we are part of its inner workings. And like the inner workings of any complex system, things are bound to go wrong from time to time. In fact things must go wrong from time to time as that is the Entropic Rule.
We must remember that we are perceiving things but from a single vantage point. While it is true that from our perspective, it may very well look like the universe it throwing more things at us then at others. That those who are less deserving are receiving more than they should. That those who are innocent are forced to suffer and those who are repugnant wallow in excess.
From our fixed vantage point it looks like patterns and trends, but this is all an illusion. For if we step aside and look at it from another perspective, we truly begin to see things as they are, a series of causes and effects. Like the ripples from a handful of pebbles tossed into a calm pool, we see patterns and direction. We see one part that is more turbulent despite having few stones near them. Whereas another part has many stones, yet their myriad ripples may cancel one another out, leaving the surface with an unexpected calm. These ripples reinforce or cancel one another out, creating complex patterns that seen to be purposeful, but we know full well that they are not. That any purpose is seen only in retrospect and that any pattern that forms does so out of pure randomness.
We can think of each of our lives as one of these pebbles and the ripples to be the events that sculpt our lives. While it may very well seem that we have our unfair share of ripples around us, while those who create the most commotion may find themselves to have the fewest ripples to deal with. It is not because the pond intended for us to have more ripples, but because of chance and random occurrence.
The same can be said for our lives. It may seem like the universe hurtles at us an unfair amount of turmoil and pain. But it is not because the universe has a vendetta against us or enjoys seeing our suffering. Rather, it is because of the random nature of the cosmos that things seem to pile up now and again. We forget that in randomness, there must be those who experience repetition, be it good or bad. For if they did not, then the system, as a whole, would not be random at all, but designed and laid out.
So do not take such events as an omen that one is marked. Instead realize that it is simply part of existence and that, in time, new ripples will form.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
FML
Lets look at the statement FML or "Fuck My Life", just a bit deeper, shall we? One can take it at face value and assume it means that one's life is beyond reconciliation and should thus, simply be fucked, metaphorically, and be done with it.
Or one can look at it in a another way way. If we take the fucking to be literal, that is coitus with our existence, then that means one must physically engage in sexual union with our very being.
Now as we all know, there is good sex and bad sex. If it is bad sex, then all we gain from it is to be left feeling hot and sweaty and not much else, something no one finds very appealing. I'm sure this is what most would think the phrase means, if taken literally.
However there is another literal possibility. In this instance, instead of horrible sex, one has truly great sex. The kind of sex where afterward, your mind is left reeling in a storm of endorphins. Where the body and mind float upon utter ecstasy. Now if this is true, then not only would the physical you be left having one hell of an orgasm, but so would your existence. Since your existence is you, just the you over an extended period of time, one is left to assume that if one's existence achieves climax then you as a person must also do so but over the duration of said existence.
In other words, if done right, to "fuck my life" could very well mean to be left in a state of boundless writhing pleasure. If this is truly the case then I say we should all go about fucking our lives as often as humanly possible.
Or one can look at it in a another way way. If we take the fucking to be literal, that is coitus with our existence, then that means one must physically engage in sexual union with our very being.
Now as we all know, there is good sex and bad sex. If it is bad sex, then all we gain from it is to be left feeling hot and sweaty and not much else, something no one finds very appealing. I'm sure this is what most would think the phrase means, if taken literally.
However there is another literal possibility. In this instance, instead of horrible sex, one has truly great sex. The kind of sex where afterward, your mind is left reeling in a storm of endorphins. Where the body and mind float upon utter ecstasy. Now if this is true, then not only would the physical you be left having one hell of an orgasm, but so would your existence. Since your existence is you, just the you over an extended period of time, one is left to assume that if one's existence achieves climax then you as a person must also do so but over the duration of said existence.
In other words, if done right, to "fuck my life" could very well mean to be left in a state of boundless writhing pleasure. If this is truly the case then I say we should all go about fucking our lives as often as humanly possible.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
A walk through the park
We have a city park, it really isn't much but I like to walk through it from time to time, as I often do some of my best thinking when I'm just walking and experiencing.
Each year, the city puts up all kinds of lights throughout the park for Christmas and at night, it really is kind of lovely to walk through. I remember always wanting to walk through it when I was younger but my family didn't think it was worth it "you can see all the lights from the streets as we drive by, can't you?" they would say. they didn't understand the value of just walking through and watching.
Part of it is the people, as it is the one time when the park actually has a steady stream of people walking through it. For most of the rest of the year, it is usually just overlooked. But most of all, I love looking around and seeing just how diverse the iconography around me actually is.
Most would never realize it, but the images I saw were truly global. There was Inuit, Mesopotamian, Celtic/Norse, Victorian England, and Czarist Russia. I know most will never realize the vast collection of images that surround them nor will most of them ever grasp their meanings.
But I know them, I know their histories and their origins. Seeing it all around me...it makes me happy. I see the culmination of so many peoples, so many diverse thoughts and cultures, all brought into one single amalgamate.
Most will never see this, but I do, each and every time I walk through that park, and it warms me. I only wish more people would be interested in it and realize what exactly it all means. For it gives me hope. In spite of all our hatreds and bigotries and wars that we humans rage against one another, here is one time when the diversity of humanity is made as one. Here is hope for a future of my species.
Each year, the city puts up all kinds of lights throughout the park for Christmas and at night, it really is kind of lovely to walk through. I remember always wanting to walk through it when I was younger but my family didn't think it was worth it "you can see all the lights from the streets as we drive by, can't you?" they would say. they didn't understand the value of just walking through and watching.
Part of it is the people, as it is the one time when the park actually has a steady stream of people walking through it. For most of the rest of the year, it is usually just overlooked. But most of all, I love looking around and seeing just how diverse the iconography around me actually is.
Most would never realize it, but the images I saw were truly global. There was Inuit, Mesopotamian, Celtic/Norse, Victorian England, and Czarist Russia. I know most will never realize the vast collection of images that surround them nor will most of them ever grasp their meanings.
But I know them, I know their histories and their origins. Seeing it all around me...it makes me happy. I see the culmination of so many peoples, so many diverse thoughts and cultures, all brought into one single amalgamate.
Most will never see this, but I do, each and every time I walk through that park, and it warms me. I only wish more people would be interested in it and realize what exactly it all means. For it gives me hope. In spite of all our hatreds and bigotries and wars that we humans rage against one another, here is one time when the diversity of humanity is made as one. Here is hope for a future of my species.
Conservation of Momentum
Hurtling through the imperfect vacuum of interstellar space, an aged and beaten colony ship finds itself nearing the halfway point of its immense journey. Upon the command deck an equally tired and worn captain stands vigilant. Amongst the familiar background whines and hums of her ship, the captain picks out the sound of another’s approach. A beleaguered astrophysicist grimly relays his latest findings…
“Captain, as you know the upgrades to the navigational core were completed earlier this duty cycle.” Turning to acknowledge her trusted adviser the captain asks, “And how are our new systems functioning?” Replying with a calm yet subtly strained tone, the astrophysics replies, “Better then expected, this new system has reanalyzed our course in record time. There have already been a few minor corrections in our vector.” Vaguely intrigued the captain asks “And what might those refinements be exactly?” “Only a slight course correction to make better use of some of the outer planets of our destination. With these adjustments it seems we will be able to shed most of the necessary momentum as we pass by the gas giants in the system.” Nodding in approval the captain turns her attention to her adviser’s seemingly ill fitting tone of word, “Yet despite these refinements, you sound as if there is something amiss.”
Taking a moment to find the right words, the astrophysicist replies, “You are as observant as always," He says with a sigh, "yes, there is a slight problem. According to the latest telemetry, even with the improved momentum burn calculated by the new navigational system, we will still be moving at too great a speed to safely achieve a stable orbit around our destination. We will, instead slow down just long enough to get a good look at our destination before careening past it. As you know, this vessel was designed with efficiency in mind, as such, we do not have the reserve fuel to slow us or even make an attempt at a second rendezvous.” Realizing just how dire the situation is, the captain asks, "By what margin will we miss our destination?"
Taking a long pause before responding, the astrophysicist replies “Approximately one minute, yes we will reach the point of orbital entry one minute ahead of the planet.” The signs of worry emboldened in her features the captain turns to look forward and softly begins to say, “So after all these years of journey, are we really going to lose it all to such a minute fraction of time? After so long a voyage, after so many generations inside this isolated hull, are we to find that all we lack, all that keeps us our race from salvation is a single, last minute?”
As the captains words echo through the silence that that befallen the deck, the soft murmur of a suppressed laughter. The two stern individuals turn towards the ill timed sound. The captain asks in an irate tone, “What exactly do you find so humorous in this? What comedy could you find in the dashed hopes of our collective civilization?” After a bit more stiffed laughter comes a reply “Well, I guess its true what they say, without the last minute nothing does ever gets done...”
In shocked silence the two look at each other for a moment before a wry smile begins to form on the astrophysicist. Knowing that look before from their various conversations throughout the years the captain worryingly asks “What is it, exactly, that you have thought of just now, as I know that look and I know that very few things come from it that I don’t later regret.” After a bit of a dramatic pause comes the reply “While I will need to confirm it with the navigational core, I have just realized that from our current distance to cut off that last crucial minute, all we must lose is the mass of roughly one individual.” Finding the dangerous smile to be infectious the captain replies with a mocking laugh “And I believe we already have our volunteer.”
“Captain, as you know the upgrades to the navigational core were completed earlier this duty cycle.” Turning to acknowledge her trusted adviser the captain asks, “And how are our new systems functioning?” Replying with a calm yet subtly strained tone, the astrophysics replies, “Better then expected, this new system has reanalyzed our course in record time. There have already been a few minor corrections in our vector.” Vaguely intrigued the captain asks “And what might those refinements be exactly?” “Only a slight course correction to make better use of some of the outer planets of our destination. With these adjustments it seems we will be able to shed most of the necessary momentum as we pass by the gas giants in the system.” Nodding in approval the captain turns her attention to her adviser’s seemingly ill fitting tone of word, “Yet despite these refinements, you sound as if there is something amiss.”
Taking a moment to find the right words, the astrophysicist replies, “You are as observant as always," He says with a sigh, "yes, there is a slight problem. According to the latest telemetry, even with the improved momentum burn calculated by the new navigational system, we will still be moving at too great a speed to safely achieve a stable orbit around our destination. We will, instead slow down just long enough to get a good look at our destination before careening past it. As you know, this vessel was designed with efficiency in mind, as such, we do not have the reserve fuel to slow us or even make an attempt at a second rendezvous.” Realizing just how dire the situation is, the captain asks, "By what margin will we miss our destination?"
Taking a long pause before responding, the astrophysicist replies “Approximately one minute, yes we will reach the point of orbital entry one minute ahead of the planet.” The signs of worry emboldened in her features the captain turns to look forward and softly begins to say, “So after all these years of journey, are we really going to lose it all to such a minute fraction of time? After so long a voyage, after so many generations inside this isolated hull, are we to find that all we lack, all that keeps us our race from salvation is a single, last minute?”
As the captains words echo through the silence that that befallen the deck, the soft murmur of a suppressed laughter. The two stern individuals turn towards the ill timed sound. The captain asks in an irate tone, “What exactly do you find so humorous in this? What comedy could you find in the dashed hopes of our collective civilization?” After a bit more stiffed laughter comes a reply “Well, I guess its true what they say, without the last minute nothing does ever gets done...”
In shocked silence the two look at each other for a moment before a wry smile begins to form on the astrophysicist. Knowing that look before from their various conversations throughout the years the captain worryingly asks “What is it, exactly, that you have thought of just now, as I know that look and I know that very few things come from it that I don’t later regret.” After a bit of a dramatic pause comes the reply “While I will need to confirm it with the navigational core, I have just realized that from our current distance to cut off that last crucial minute, all we must lose is the mass of roughly one individual.” Finding the dangerous smile to be infectious the captain replies with a mocking laugh “And I believe we already have our volunteer.”
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Religion's Pool
We are born into a gloomy bay. Blind and knowing only what we are shown. Those ahead, their hands are grasping for anything, but return only slime. Knowing not what they seek, they relish the feeling. Larger hands guide us away, towards reed pools filled with spines and pearls. Around these we gather, thrusting our virgin hands into the abyss, with a hope beyond precious hope that a pearl will be unveiled as we open our hands, only to find bristles and stones.
We wade prostrate our fingers feeling for any flotsam that might come our way. By chance we find the reaching hands of another passer by. Entangled we float, collecting each other. Each grasping and searching yet never finding. We form whole drifts, each unique in our writhing. Every part a chance to reach for more. Yet none are grasping that precious peal.
We stumble and fall, a misplaced foot upon a slippery stone. Diving in we see nothing, hear nothing and wonder, is this what we were searching for? Hands around us pulling us free. Air refills our lungs, our flailing hands grasp for all we can. Rocks and thistles are all we find.
Angered and blind we thrash but held fast. We are told to search more gently, to keep our calm. We will find what we need in time, just as those of old. So we seek the thing we do not know. Our fingers grasp and pull occasionally a heavy stone.
In time we learn to use the stone. A point of haven, a refuge from the spurs. But another stone has been found. Theirs is like ours but somehow greater they declare. We try and find if this stone is a mirror of ours. All the same, save for a few bits of life dangling below. In this do we find our treasure? But no, the stone falls away again, pushed by stronger hands. Why not stay together? Greater hands twist and split, push away, we all are told to push away.
Alone again wandering, why? Our hands feel through the grime finding nothing more then more tines. We sputter and sink, wondering what lies beneath. A last final claw before we open our maw. No hands to save us as we drown.
But could it be, my last grasp has it all? My fingers pull away from my palm revealing my last found. I dare not see it for if I were to drown, then all would be gone nothing would ever be found.
I feel for the shape, perfectly round. It is what they have lost, now I have found. I look upon its form as I drown. It is nothing, nothing to be found? My mind reals looking for something sound. Now I find, the lost gem was never there, it was always them.
I tear for the surface, finding my air. My eyes open and all around, I see nothing but the lost, hoping to be found. I step toward the only shore I see. Upon reason, I am finally free.
We wade prostrate our fingers feeling for any flotsam that might come our way. By chance we find the reaching hands of another passer by. Entangled we float, collecting each other. Each grasping and searching yet never finding. We form whole drifts, each unique in our writhing. Every part a chance to reach for more. Yet none are grasping that precious peal.
We stumble and fall, a misplaced foot upon a slippery stone. Diving in we see nothing, hear nothing and wonder, is this what we were searching for? Hands around us pulling us free. Air refills our lungs, our flailing hands grasp for all we can. Rocks and thistles are all we find.
Angered and blind we thrash but held fast. We are told to search more gently, to keep our calm. We will find what we need in time, just as those of old. So we seek the thing we do not know. Our fingers grasp and pull occasionally a heavy stone.
In time we learn to use the stone. A point of haven, a refuge from the spurs. But another stone has been found. Theirs is like ours but somehow greater they declare. We try and find if this stone is a mirror of ours. All the same, save for a few bits of life dangling below. In this do we find our treasure? But no, the stone falls away again, pushed by stronger hands. Why not stay together? Greater hands twist and split, push away, we all are told to push away.
Alone again wandering, why? Our hands feel through the grime finding nothing more then more tines. We sputter and sink, wondering what lies beneath. A last final claw before we open our maw. No hands to save us as we drown.
But could it be, my last grasp has it all? My fingers pull away from my palm revealing my last found. I dare not see it for if I were to drown, then all would be gone nothing would ever be found.
I feel for the shape, perfectly round. It is what they have lost, now I have found. I look upon its form as I drown. It is nothing, nothing to be found? My mind reals looking for something sound. Now I find, the lost gem was never there, it was always them.
I tear for the surface, finding my air. My eyes open and all around, I see nothing but the lost, hoping to be found. I step toward the only shore I see. Upon reason, I am finally free.
A bit of atheist Comedy
The secret to great comedy is thus, tell the truth, don't let your internal critic censor yourself, and pay attention to the chaotic world around you. Using these simple rules, anyone can create great comedy. But what differentiates the stand-up from everyone else is confidence. Confidence allows the day laborer to get out in front of a crowd and say the things everyone is thinking, but no one has the guts to say aloud. Far too much of our society has become pent up and repressed. People worry about offending this person or that. But the comedian cuts through all of this. The comedian expresses what people want to say but are afraid that if they say it, they will be shunned. Through comedy we not only have get a release for all these pent up thoughts, but a chance to change things for ourselves. Instead of keeping that bit in let it out, take a chance. If someone is offended, that is their choice. And that is what we often forget, that to be offended is a choice, not a reaction. It is easy to brush off even the most hateful of words with a laugh and perhaps a bit of sharp wit thrown back at the assailant.
We all need comedy to survive the experience that is life. It renews us, comforts us, and even chastises us for our own short comings. It is something that should be found in daily life. And when we are weary and tired, what better feeling is there then to hear your own thoughts pronounced aloud, yet twisted just right so that we can laugh and forget whatever it was that was bothering us.
While I was up helping my dear friend that I mentioned in an earlier post, she was supposed to meet a friend to go to an event. The friend never showed, eventually calling at the last minute stating that he had a gig with his band the following day and could not make it. So my friend asked me if I wanted to join her for it, as she had two tickets already bought and there was no sense in wasting it. What I didn't realize is that the tickets were for front row seats to see Cheech and Chong for their "get it legal" tour. The two of us laughed harder than either of us had in quite some time. It was therapeutic, just like all great comedy should be.
For those of you reading this, here is something to sooth you as well. A bit of comedy from the talent of Jim Jefferies, enjoy.
We all need comedy to survive the experience that is life. It renews us, comforts us, and even chastises us for our own short comings. It is something that should be found in daily life. And when we are weary and tired, what better feeling is there then to hear your own thoughts pronounced aloud, yet twisted just right so that we can laugh and forget whatever it was that was bothering us.
While I was up helping my dear friend that I mentioned in an earlier post, she was supposed to meet a friend to go to an event. The friend never showed, eventually calling at the last minute stating that he had a gig with his band the following day and could not make it. So my friend asked me if I wanted to join her for it, as she had two tickets already bought and there was no sense in wasting it. What I didn't realize is that the tickets were for front row seats to see Cheech and Chong for their "get it legal" tour. The two of us laughed harder than either of us had in quite some time. It was therapeutic, just like all great comedy should be.
For those of you reading this, here is something to sooth you as well. A bit of comedy from the talent of Jim Jefferies, enjoy.
Friday, November 26, 2010
The Sound Of Freethinking: #2 God Thinks
As a quick follow up to the first "Sound of Freethinking" comes one of my favorite musical satirists. For those within the subculture, the name Voltaire is well known, outside, it is also well known but for a different individual. Yes, a musical satirist decided to name his project after one of the greatest literary satirists, and I have to say, it is rather fitting. But this modern Voltaire is much more then just a musician, he is also an artist and writer, all of which has a nice satirical edge to it, often even mocking the very subculture that he thrives within. After all, we all need a bit of humility and self deprecation now and then. He goes about his music in a sort of dark cabaret style and it fits him very well.
In This particular song, entitled God Thinks, Voltaire starts off with the kind of lyrics that are designed to offend the listener. But if you are willing to listen further, you will find that what seems horrendously bigoted remarks are actually part of the satire itself. So without further adieu, here is Voltaire telling us what God Thinks.
And for the videophobic...
To be entirely honest, there is little I can say that Voltaire has not said in this song. I am sure most atheists and agnostics will agree that they have argued something similar to what Voltaire has sung here. It is a culmination of all religions stupidity rolled into one nice song. Some may argue that this isn't an atheist song as it ends with a more pantheistic verse. But if someone were to argue that, then they must not have a very good grasp on what pantheism truly is. In fact there are many who could argue that there is very little difference in the thinking of an agnosto-atheist and a pantheist. But either way, the message of this song is still the same and I think it is one that many in the atheist community would relish if only they knew it existed in the first place. Which, of course, is the whole purpose of this segment of this blog.
In This particular song, entitled God Thinks, Voltaire starts off with the kind of lyrics that are designed to offend the listener. But if you are willing to listen further, you will find that what seems horrendously bigoted remarks are actually part of the satire itself. So without further adieu, here is Voltaire telling us what God Thinks.
And for the videophobic...
God thinks all blacks are obsolete farm equipment
God thinks the Jews killed his son and must be punished
God thinks the white man is Satan
God, they know what God thinks
God thinks we should all convert to Judaism
God thinks we must all be Christians and
God thinks we should all embrace Islam
God thinks the only true religion is Hinduism
And I
I know what God thinks
God thinks you're a waste of flesh
God prefers an Atheist
God God
God thinks all people like you are hateful
God thinks all people like you are an embarrassment to creation
self-righteous, judgmental, first to throw a stone
and using His name for your own protection
God thinks the sun revolves around the Earth
God thinks there was something very wrong with Copernicus
God thinks abortion is murder and
God thinks everything that science gave us is wrong
God thinks women deserve it
God thinks AIDS is a form of punishment
I hate people who blame the Devil for their own shortcomings and
I hate people who thank God when things go right
And I
I know what God thinks
God thinks you're an idiot
God prefers a heretic
God God
God thinks all people like you are hateful
God thinks all people like you are an embarrassment to creation
self-righteous, judgmental, first to throw the stone
and using His name for your own agenda
God is a liberal
God is a democrat
God wants you to vote republican
never trust a man who puts his words in the mouth of god
and says it's absolute truth
its lies and it smells like death
its all in a day's work taking money from the poor
Why do you think that God would need your dirty money
if He wants to start a holy war?
self-righteous, judgmental, first to throw a stone
and using His name for your own protection
God thinks puppies need to die and
God thinks babies need to drown
'cause God is neither good nor bad
God is you and me
God is Everything
To be entirely honest, there is little I can say that Voltaire has not said in this song. I am sure most atheists and agnostics will agree that they have argued something similar to what Voltaire has sung here. It is a culmination of all religions stupidity rolled into one nice song. Some may argue that this isn't an atheist song as it ends with a more pantheistic verse. But if someone were to argue that, then they must not have a very good grasp on what pantheism truly is. In fact there are many who could argue that there is very little difference in the thinking of an agnosto-atheist and a pantheist. But either way, the message of this song is still the same and I think it is one that many in the atheist community would relish if only they knew it existed in the first place. Which, of course, is the whole purpose of this segment of this blog.
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