Appreciation Wednesday, Nov 15 2006 

“In life, we are always faced with difficult choices.

And it really feels great when your choices pay off and you see lovely things happening.”

And that was going to be the subject of my post about difficult choices and reconciliation.

But bullshit.

Perhaps at the end of the day, we shouldn’t really care about things happening around us.

Perhaps at the end of the day, the only true measure of things is benefit to your self.

Sometimes, I wonder why altruism comes from.

Narcissitic egoistic massochistic bullshit?

Haha.

There are just so many things happening at the back of my head.

Nothing really happening at the front of my eyes.

Natural progression of things, from the front of your eyes, to the back of your head.

From blindness to sight, to blindness again.

From lightness to weight to lightness again.

I can only say that I’ve tried to be true to everything and everyone I believe in.

Try. Attempt.

I have no idea what has come over me.

Just a moment ago, I was on a path of peace.

But now, I am suddenly on a path of hate, angry and bitter hate

To Religion Sunday, Nov 12 2006 

Reading this extract from Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons from Chun Han’s blog, and also because I’ve just read Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, I suddenly feel rather inspired to create another version of this extract, and give it a little twist. A disclaimer first, though. Firstly, I am in no way totally against religion. I’m merely trying to point out that many of the arguments in the extract can be twisted both ways. Secondly, I admit that “religion” seems to be talking about Christianity, or monotheistic religions, just as Dan Brown’s extract seems to be. Thirdly, pixies whenever mentioned, are just a group of humans. But unfortunately, they have been vilified to be small, irritating, non existent little people. Hahaha.

Here’s the extract:

“The wheels have been in motion for a long time. Your victory has been inevitable. Never before has it been as obvious as it is at this moment. Science is the new God.

Medicine, electronic communications, space travel, genetic manipulation … these are the miracles about which we now tell our children. These are the miracles we herald as proof that science will brings us the answers. The ancient stories of immaculate conceptions, burning bushes, and parting seas are no longer relevant. God has become obsolete. Science has won the battle. We concede.

But science’s victory has cost every one of us. And it has cost us deeply.

Science may have alleviated the miseries of disease and drudgery and provided an array of gadgetry for our entertainment and convenience, but it has left us in a world without wonder. Our sunsets have been reduced to wavelengths and frequencies. The complexities of the universe have been shredded into mathematical equations. Even our self-worth as human beings has been destroyed. Science proclaims that Planet Earth and its inhabitants are a meaningless speck in the grand scheme. A cosmic accident.

Even the technology that promises to unite us, divides us. Each of us is now electronically connected to the globe, and yet we feel utterly alone. We are bombarded with violence, division, fracture, and betrayal. Skepticism has become a virtue. Cynicism and demand for proof has become enlightened thought. Is it any wonder that humans now feel more depressed and defeated than they have at any point in human history? Does science hold anything sacred? Science looks for answers by probing our unborn fetuses. Science even presumes to rearrange our own DNA. It shatters God’s world into smaller and smaller pieces in quest of meaning … and all it finds is more questions.

The ancient war between science and religion is over. You have won. But you have not won fairly. You have not won by providing answers. You have won by so radically reorienting our society that the truths we once saw as signposts now seem inapplicable. Religion cannot keep up. Scientific growth is exponential. It feeds on itself like a virus. Every new breakthrough opens doors for new breakthroughs. Mankind took thousands of years to progress from the wheel to the car. Yet only decades from the car into space. Now we measure scientific progress in weeks. We are spinning out of control. The rift between us grows deeper and deeper, and as religion is left behind, people find themselves in a spiritual void. We cry out for meaning. And believe me, we do cry out. We see UFOs, engage in channeling, spirit contact, out-of-body experiences, mindquests – all these eccentric ideas have a scientific veneer, but they are unashamedly irrational. They are the desperate cry of the modern soul, lonely and tormented, crippled by its own enlightenment and its inability to accept meaning in anything removed from technology.

Science, you say, will save us. Science, I say, has destroyed us. Since the days of Galileo, the church has tried to slow the relentless march of science, sometimes with misguided means, but always with benevolent intention. Even so, the temptations are too great for man to resist. I warn you, look around yourselves. The promises of science have not been kept. Promises of efficiency and simplicity have bred nothing but pollution and chaos. We are a fractured and frantic species … moving down a path of destruction.

Who is this God science? Who is the God who offers his people power but no moral framework to tell you how to use that power? What kind of God gives a child fire but does not warn the child of its dangers? The language of science comes with no signposts about good and bad. Science textbooks tell us how to create a nuclear reaction, and yet they contain no chapter asking us if it is a good or a bad idea.

To science, I say this. The church is tired. We are exhausted from trying to be your signposts. Our resources are drying up from our campaign to be the voice of balance as you plow blindly on in your quest for smaller chips and larger profits. We ask not why you will not govern yourselves, but how can you? Your world moves so fast that if you stop even for an instant to consider the implications of your actions, someone more efficient will whip past you in a blur. So you move on. You proliferate weapons of mass destruction, but it is the Pope who travels the world beseeching leaders to use restraint. You clone living creatures, but it is the church reminding us to consider the moral implications of our actions. You encourage people to interact on phones, video screens, and computers, but it is the church who opens its doors and reminds us to commune in person as we were meant to do. You even murder unborn babies in the name of research that will save lives. Again, it is the church who points out the fallacy of this reasoning.

And all the while, you proclaim the church is ignorant. But who is more ignorant? The man who cannot define lightning, or the man who does not respect its awesome power? This church is reaching out to you. Reaching out to everyone. And yet the more we reach, the more you push us away. Show me proof there is a God, you say. I say use your telescopes to look to the heavens, and tell me how there could not be a God! You ask what does God look like. I say, where did that question come from? The answers are one and the same. Do you not see God in your science? How can you miss Him! You proclaim that even the slightest chance in the force of gravity or the weight of an atom would have rendered our universe a lifeless mist rather than our magnificent sea of heavenly bodies, and yet you fail to see God’s hand in this? Is it really so much easier to believe that we simply chose the right card from a deck of billions? Have we become so spiritually bankrupt that we would rather believe in mathematical impossibility than in a power greater than us?

Whether or not you believe in God, you must believe this. When we as a species abandon our trust in the power greater than us, we abandon our sense of accountability. Faith … all faiths … are admonitions that there is something we cannot understand, something to which we are accountable … with faith we are accountable to each other, to ourselves, and to a higher truth. Religion is flawed, but only because man is flawed. If the outside world could see this church as I do … looking beyond the ritual of these walls … they would see a modern miracle … a brotherhood of imperfect, simple souls wanting only to be a voice of compassion in a world spinning out of control.”

- extracted from Angels and Demons by Dan Brown

To Religion, From Forgotten Peace Pixies

The tablets of stone have long been written. Your victory has been inevitable. Never before has it been as obvious as it is at this moment. Religion is the new God.

Great floods, smiting of filthy cities, blowing horns to bring down walls, conquering lands, days and nights of plague, murders of first born sons… These are the miracles about which we now tell our children. These are the miracles we herald as proof that religion will bring us the answers. The ancient stories of the freedom to love who we love, to be who we are to be, to dance in joy and nakedness, are no longer relevant. Pixies have become obsolete. Religion has won the battle. We concede.

But religion’s victory has cost every one of us. And it has cost us deeply.

Religion may have alleviated the miseries of disease and drudgery, become a beacon of light, or an opiate for the masses, and provided us with an array of parables for our entertainment, purposes and conveniences, but it has left us in a world without love and understanding. Our sunsets have been reduced to the will of God. Access to the complexities of the universe have been denied, knowledge of which declared forever unattainable to humans. Even our self worth as human beings has been destroyed. Religion proclaims that Planet Earth and its inhabitants are a shameful bunch discarded from a perfect world. A cosmic disgrace.

Even the dogma that promises to unite us, divides us. Each of us is spiritually connected to God, apparently, and yet we feel utterly alone. We are bombarded with violence, division, fracture, and hate for others different. Obedience has become a virtue. Orthodoxy, and a denial of our own most basic feelings, has become enlightened thought. Is it any wonder that humans now feel more depressed and defeated than they have at any point in human history? Does religion allow for differences? Religion looks for answers by probing the metaphysical plane that only some can see. Religion even presumes to hold the one and true answers. It clumps our world together, into huge pieces of universal meanings, and all it finds is more questions.

The ancient war between religion and pixies are over. We pixies will soon be forgotten. You have won. But you have not won fairly. You have not won by providing answers. You have won by so radically reorienting our society that the truths we once saw as signposts now seem inapplicable. We used to think that differences should be celebrated, but the very nature of religion makes that wrong. Religious growth is exponential. It feeds on itself like a virus. Every new breakthrough, every new matyr, every new war, opens new doors to even more breakthroughts, matyrs and wars. Mankind took thousands of years to progress from the unknown supernatural to one great God. Yet only a few hundred to begin killing each other in that great God’s name. Now we measure religious progress in the millions of devotees. We are spinning out of control. The rift between us grows deeper and deeper, and as we are left behind, people find themselves in a space void of humanity. We cry out for change, for humanity. And believe me, we do cry out. We want to celebrate of all forms of love between men and women, we want to see people of different beliefs coming together to share, we want to see people helping each other and living in harmony, regardless of how they think. This is what we cry out for. But whenever we cry, we are blasphemous, insensitive, disrespectful, sinful, evil. Unnatural. Such is the desperate cry of the modern soul, lonely and tormented, crippled by its own enlightenment and its inability to accept meaning in anything removed from religious dogma.

Religion, you say, will save us. Religion, I say, has destroyed us. Since the days of Moses, and all the subsequent prophets and messiahs, we have tried to slow the relentless march of religion, sometimes with misguided means, but always with benelovent intention. But we are ineffective and will soon be forgotten. The temptations of religion are too great for man to resist. I warn you, look around yourselves. The promises of religion has not been kept. Promises of love, simplicity, beauty, enlightenment, wisdom, if only you would believe, have bred nothing but wars, destruction, intolerance and chaos. We are a fractured and frantic species … moving down a path of destruction.

Who is this God religion? Who is the God who promises free will but would damn you to hell if you chose wrongly? What kind of God puts a dangerous tree in the playground but does not create in his children the ability to tell right from wrong? The language of religion comes with no signposts about good and bad. Religious textbooks tell us that this is God and we are to believe in him, and yet they contain no chapter asking us if God is a good or a bad idea. If our God is a good or bad God.

To religion, I say this. We peace pixies are tired. We are exhausted from trying to be your signpost. Our resources are drying up from our campaign to be the voice of balance as you plow blindly on in your quest for more members and larger donations. We ask not why you will not restrain, reflect on your actions, but how can you? Your fear that doubt alone would destroy you is so great that you dare not doubt. For someone else, more confident, more assured, more convinced of his infallibility, will take over, will whip past you in a blur. So you move on. You order knights to kill, we beesch respecting differences. You order women be the property of men, blacks the property of whites, we cry out that all men and women are equal. You order discrimination, incite hatred against those who would not love as you ordered them to, and we simply weep your narrow definition of love. You do all this and more, in the name of God. And you have vilified us, so successfully, that our names are but forgotten.

And all the while, you proclaim us ignorant. But who is more ignorant? The man who fears yet loves the strange bright light in the sky, or the man who says this awesome display of light is but one tool in God’s arsenal of weapons, ready to smite and strike you if He saw fit. The peace pixies are reaching out to you. Reaching out to everyone. And yet the more we reach, the more you push us away. You say, God must exist, to deny him is to deny life. But not only that. Our God must exist. To deny our God is to deny life. I say, use your hearts and look around you, and tell me how is your heart the only true heart? You say that only your God can exist, I say, where did that answer come from? That answer is one and the same for everyone. Everyone thinks that only their God can exist. Yet do you not see God in your enemies? How can you miss Her! You proclaim that your enemies are Godless, sinners, misguided, evil, minions of the devil, but do you not see the same passion burning in their eyes as it is in yours? Or have you forgotten how to look into clear water? Is it really much easier to believe that all the people who do not think as you do as destined for hell? Have we become so void of humanity, bankrupt of compassion, that we would rather believe in a God who tells us to kill, that differences are a ground for hatred, than the voice in our head telling us to love one another?

Whether or not you believe in peace, believe in each other, you must believe this. When we as a species abandon our trust in the power within us, abandoning our own mind, sense and reasoning, allowing only a select few to forever tell us right from wrong, we abandon the meaning of our existence. Faith … all faiths … are admonitions that there is something we cannot understand, something to which we are accountable … with faith we are accountable to each other, to ourselves, and to a higher truth. Yet with religion, are we truly accountable to each other? To a higher truth? Perhaps it is always easier to believe that some men are good, or are going to be saved, and that others are misguided, in the dark, ignorant about our God and our higher truth. Religion is flawed, because men are flawed. But to what extent do we allow a single flaw to rule us, to govern us, to lead us to our self destruction? If the outside world can see people as I do, forever different from each other, yet each with a valuable gift to share, you would see a true miracle. A brotherhood of imperfect, simple souls, wanting only to love each other. The challenge is in fighting the temptation to abandon our fellow humans, brand them as infidels. You are modest, and you tell people that you are not perfect nor do you think you are. But beneath all that modesty, you secretly believe that you are just more perfect than those others.

The Smart Ones Friday, Nov 10 2006 

I told Chun Han the other day, that I was not afraid of making people hate me.

And that I am perfectly fine with people out there hating me to their guts.

But the smart ones don’t hate you.

They make you hate yourself.