theidiotdeity

Author: theidiotdeity

  • Richard Henry Dana; Two Years Before the Mast.

    Many years ago there was a man named Richard Henry Dana. Descended from a family of scholars and overachievers he was accepted into the esteemed halls of Harvard. A case of the measles ruined his eyesight and ended his academic pursuits after three years. Medical experts were of no help.

    Young Richard decided upon a rash course of action. In 1934 he signed on to a brig named the Pilgrim, as a sailor for two years. The ship was set to sail from Boston to California. The Panama Canal was not in existence at that time and the journey on a sailing ship with no mechanized power would require the dreaded east to west rounding of Cape Horn.

    Cape Horn, in those days, was synonymous with death and destruction. It is the largest ship graveyard in the world where more than 800 ships and 10,000 sailors lie in the depths below the icy gales of the southern seas. Richard, if he had wanted an adventure, was going to get one.

    Any moment above deck might be your last if a rogue crest swiped your feet from under you or an unanticipated roll of the ship flung you like a doll into the freezing water of the Antarctic. Death was inevitable should you be lost overboard. There was no turning back to retrieve a man. There was no Coast Guard, there were no life jackets, clothing was minimal. The men remaining aboard would simply continue their battle with the ocean and pray for their own salvation. To cease their work would mean their own deaths.

    Rounding the Horn took the ship nine days to accomplish. Nine days of snow, sleet, hail, rain, bitter cold in wet clothing that they could not dry, sleeping in water logged racks while the wind howled and the ship tossed and the frigid sea constantly broke across the decks and washed into every crevice of the ship. Richard, in a spur of the moment action to retrieve the jib in a sudden squall, was nearly washed off the bowsprit, dunked twice to his chin when the ship dove into heavy seas. Upon completion of their task Richard and a second sailor scrambled back to the deck and found all hands below decks to weather the storm apparently not concerned about the two sailors’ fates.

    Life was different then. Safety was a foreign concept to the minds of the men who dared these journeys for the simple act of commerce, bringing shoes to California, or leather to Boston. Death was ever present. Providence, prayer, and ones’ own wits were the only defenses against the grave.

    And with all of the safety measures, drills, helmets, goggles, protective clothing, and warnings we have today death still takes its due.

    Fear is real but safety is an illusion. Either get busy livin’… or get busy dyin’. Your choice.

    But what do I know. I’m just a dummygod.

  • Manliness Defined

    If we could create an icon to represent the perfect man, what would it be?

    What would define the ultimate man? Kindness? Intelligence? Boldness? Loyalty? Courtesy? Reverence? Faithfulness? Trustworthiness? Powerful? Forgiving? Truthful? Would it be all of those things, and more?

    Now, before you judge the message and click away… consider something radical for once;

    The Bible is nothing more than a collection of fictional essays.

    Assume the Bible is only a story. Assume that none of it ever happened. Assume that religion is simply a bunch of delusions used by men to control one another. Assume it was written without any inspiration by God. Assume it is nothing more than a collection of fictional essays. What story would you write about a man who was God incarnate? What adventures would you send Him on? What evil would He fight and conquer? 

    Would you end your story with God being tortured and hanging from a cross without ever uttering a word to defend Himself? Would you let the crowds and the multitudes live in doubt about His identity even after His death? Would you have Him speak lessons in cryptic analogies that could be interpreted so many different ways?

    If a man had the power to heal all sickness, bring life back from death and cast out demons with a word, what makes us think He didn’t have the power to destroy, instantly, all of those who were persecuting Him? If I was writing the story Jesus would have revealed Himself as they placed Him on the cross and He would have destroyed all of the nonbelievers, persecutors, the evil ones who refused to believe who He was. I would have turned them all to dust with the snap of a finger like Thanos. Why didn’t He simply turn them to dust and save Himself? Why didn’t He reveal His true nature to the world and show us the awesome power at His command? Why did He mess around with simple magic tricks when He was God incarnate?

    Because… His message was love… not revenge.

    But what do I know… I’m just a dummygod.

  • Gods’ Textbook

    The original bible, Gods’ textbook, may have been this…

    “The Inner Workings of The Quantum Universe and Knowledge of Miracle Performance Within the Confines of a Carbon Based Life Form Limited to Four Measurable Dimensions in the Space-time Continuum and Added Dimensional Assets Controlled and Governed by Quantum Fluctuations of Calabi-Yau Shapes as they Relate to String Theory and the Relevant Spiritual and Psychosocial Issues which are Presented by the Evolution of Lower Forms of Knowledge as they Acquire Higher Intelligence and Awareness of the Infinite”

    -Author: GOD

    I have no idea what that means.

    Do you?

    Didn’t think so.

    What makes us think we know anything?

    Arrogance?

    Probably.

    Consider this: Yesterday… bacon was considered health food. Cigarettes were good for asthma. Unshielded X-ray machines were in shoe stores. Lobotomies were a miracle cure for mental illness. Heroin was prescribed to kids as cough medicine. Kellogg’s Corn Flakes would keep you from masturbating and the list goes on.

    Humans are arrogant. We believe we are smarter than we are.

    We delude ourselves too easily, trust too easily, become arrogant (did you notice that I really like that word) and prideful too easily, and in general do dumb things to make ourselves feel better.

    Multiply by Infinity

    Think about how much you know today that you didn’t know three years ago… Now multiply that by infinity and you’ll see the vast difference between what humans know and what is knowable.

    We are babies.

    We are far from omniscient and definitely not omnipotent but we crave control over something in our lives, even if it is only an illusion, to make us feel better, safer, and not so fragile and vulnerable.

    Maybe that’s why our ancestors created God. 

    Perhaps God was the heroin and methamphetamine for our grandparents and their grandparents. He was the great vending machine in the sky. He was the ultimate protector. He was also useful for politicians and popes to control the behavior of the masses.

    But does the fact that humans have used The Bible for their own selfish desires prove His absence?

    Maybe…

    Maybe not…

    Maybe He just provided us with a book we could understand instead of the textbook cited above. 

    Maybe The Bible is a collection of allegorical stories that contain endless meanings as they are contemplated and integrated into a psyche. Maybe there are warnings and directions that would prevent us from needing to seek out the fentanyl or the alcohol or the tobacco or even simply ideas that coerce and control our own wills when we invite them in. 

    Maybe God knows everything and we don’t.

    Maybe it’s something worth thinking about rather than dismissing… because you already know everything. Right?

    But what do I know… I’m just a dummygod.

  • Free Will and Determinism Existing Simultaneously; An alternative to Robert Sapolsky’s argument for determinism.

    I recently watched a YouTube interview with Robert Sapolsky on Alex O’Connnor’s YouTube channel. Dr. Sapolsky is a brilliant man who is obviously well-versed in many subjects, chiefly biology and neuroscience. He doesn’t believe in “free will,” meaning that everything in life is predetermined, by your hormones, your hunger or state of satiation, the stage of the moon, the direction of the wind… I’m obviously being over dramatic but I’m not sure that Robert would disagree with my analogies. His case is that there are so many intricate factors that go into the act of decision making that we are literally programmed into a response to those factors even though we believe that we are making choices. His thesis is that the choice has been made for us. We are merely responding to influences.

    If I have muddled Dr. Sapolsky’s theory I apologize but that is the gist of my understanding. 

    Making Two Choices at Once

    My view on the subject is that I both agree and disagree with him, trying to not make a choice, or actually making two choices at once. I agree that much of our environment limits the choices we make but I don’t believe that it is so limiting that a choice is impossible. On the other hand it has also occurred to me that from a religious viewpoint it is possible that both free will and determinism have equal sway in the unfolding of our lives.

    Let me throw out the disclaimer first. I am not an expert in philosophy, physics, neurobiology, or metaphysics. I am simply a human that is curious about these subjects and attempting to sort the information I am exposed to into a semblance of a workable model for life. I think Robert would be happy with that assessment. I do have an undergraduate degree in Biology and Comprehensive Science that gives me enough confidence to be dangerous.

    As I listened to the video several thoughts occurred to me regarding free will or the lack thereof. If all events are predetermined then how can I personally influence the behavior of things like, say, my dog. When he pees on the floor, I respond with a correction that he does not like and he pees on the floor less and less the more times the behavior and the correction are performed. If I made no response then my dog, and I know from experience, would continue to pee on the floor and never learn to “take it outside.” Is this an example of determinism? Where does the decision or lack of a decision take place? 

    Simultaneous Opposites?

    If the decision was made by all of the myriad complexities that make up a universe and the program is simply running then why do I still believe that I have free will. Shouldn’t there be some instinct or intuition that tells me that I am out of control or perhaps more accurately that I am being controlled. Determinism makes no sense to me because everything within me tells me I make my own choices. Unless… unless both free will and determinism are simultaneously taking place. In which case there is a case for God being omniscient, knowing the past, present, and future at once.

    Omniscience has always puzzled me as well. How can the future be known? That is impossible, but then, according to logic and physics the existence of a being that is omnipotent and omniscient is impossible as well. And once more my inner voice tells me that there is a Creator for the universe in contradiction to reason. My inner voice leads me into places that don’t make sense, logically, but that shouldn’t be a surprise because even physics is finding more and more proof that the universe makes absolutely no sense (Referring to the way quantum physics tells us how to make things that work but not how they work. Weird.). 

    The only rationale I can find for my dilemma is to assume that determinism and free will occur simultaneously. Assuming that an entity can exist outside of time then the possibility of determinism is probable. To know all there must be an awareness of the whole of time; past, present, and future, in a single unit. In that case determinism is absolutely correct. 

    However, in the case of the past, present, and future existing on a line which moves constantly in one direction only; towards the future, then free will is the obvious choice, because one can only occupy a specific coordinate on that timeline rather than occupying all coordinates on the timeline in which case there is no timeline there would only be an omniscient singularity. God.

    Let’s really go out there into ridiculousness now. 

    How do we Step Outside of Time?

    If time is constrained to the physical universe; matter, then the only way to be outside of time is to be outside of matter. Matter is the limiting factor that keeps things in place. Matter is what locks things into their position within time so that they can actually be perceived as separate from ourselves. If there was no matter then all energy would be an omniscient singularity. Maybe an omniscient singularity exists regardless of matter and the act of creation was simply the invention by God of the illusion of time bringing into existence the fractals of what already exists outside of the dimension of time.

    I don’t know. This is far from a coherent theory. It’s only the seed of a thought that I’ll have to ruminate upon. But it is fascinating to consider.

    But what do I know? I’m just a dummygod.

  • Emergency Medical Care in 1970’s America; Mom’s were the original paramedics.

    I grew up in the 70’s. If Saturday Night Fever, Charlie’s Angels, vinyl records, Evel Knievel,The Brady Bunch, etc. rings a bell with you then you did too.

    Freedom House paramedics, who first were deployed in the 1960s, provided a crucial service for Pittsburgh residents. The program became a national model for emergency medical transport and care.

    I don’t remember being anxious about much, other than when I was sitting on the top of a hill staring at the ramp below and considering how much it was going to hurt when I crashed my Schwinn Lemon Peeler with a banana seat and sissy bar while jumping it over the neighbor’s wood pile without a helmet, knee pads, or elbow pads. The funny thing was I knew I was going to crash. I knew it was going to hurt and I did it anyway, over and over and over again. I came home with skinned knees, bumps, bruises, lacerations that should have gotten stitches, and a multitude of other injuries that Mom took care of with a wonder drug and some placebo’s. 

    For those of you who lived in these times of danger and excitement then the word Bactine will strike fear into your heart. Bactine wasn’t the same in those days as it is now. No! Bactine was the wonder drug that killed every infection known to mankind, according to Mom, but it was painful. It stung like a cattle prod on a sweaty back or like peeing on an electric fence. Only seventies kids will even understand those references. The placebo’s we were given were designed mostly to keep our blood off of Mom’s furniture rather than actually heal and ease our suffering but they were given in such a way that we believed we were being healed. Mom always took the time to soothe our distressed minds by making a big ritual out of the placebo. Yes, I’m speaking of the magical… Band Aid.

    This is how the ritual went. Child comes running into the house with a scrape on their knee, or in extreme instances both knees, elbows, and chin, oozing bodily fluid the color of red Kool-Aid. Mom makes a big deal of telling us how poor and pitiful we look and how overly concerned she is with our health and wellness. She wipes our tears with her shirt sleeve; coos and hugs us as if we have just survived an alien invasion; pats the bodily fluid dry with a dish towel; convinces us that the evil Bactine spray must be used in order for us to live through the dreaded infection that would surely kill anyone who did not succumb to the… (shiver)… Bactine; sits us on the bathroom sink and makes sure we’re ready for the, what in a child’s eyes was the equivalent of a red hot branding iron; and when the child vigorously nodded his head like a bull rider ready to exit the chute, the spray was applied to each and every scratch followed by Mother’s reassurance that we were surely the bravest and strongest children in the world, followed immediately by her softly blowing air on the wound to facilitate drying the horrid stinging fluid as quickly as possible as we screamed and carried on about how intolerable the pain was. Only then, would the placebos, the Band-Aids, be applied with much precision, pomp, and circumstance.

    We loved it. It was a ritual that encouraged us to go out and get beat up, scraped, and injured all over again just to earn more of Mom’s magical placebos. Of course, we all learned quickly that there was a limit to the injuries that could be sustained and healed by the placebo. Broken bones were a little outside the realm of the Band Aid’s power. So we adjusted our activities, modified our behavior, avoided the things that were really dangerous, and learned to roll with the punches.

    Mom made us feel amazing, empowered, and capable of conquering anything… until… Dad got home. 

    When Dad got home from work, in those days Moms stayed home and Dads worked, the stories were told of the bravery and resilience of his children. Mom allowed us to embellish and relay the so-called facts to the best of our ability over a hot meal of mashed potatoes, meatloaf (I love meatloaf, not just the food but the performer as well), and green beans. Dad relished the details and laughed at the appropriate parts while we bathed in the obvious pride that our father displayed at the courageous person that the fruits of his loins had created, which means… he made us feel worthy of his love.

    And then… this is the good part… When he was sure that we knew we had done well we were regaled with stories and anecdotes of his childhood like, “When I was a kid we didn’t have magical placebos and miracle drugs. We had to rub dirt in our wounds and carry each other for miles to the nearest blacksmith who would literally slap hot iron to our wounds to staunch the bleeding.”

    Again… We loved it. 

    Mom made us feel important and loved. Dad made us feel strong and brave and worthy. And we were implanted with a vision of something to aspire to… “Someday I’m gonna be as brave and strong and important as Dad,” in the case of the boys or, “Someday I’m gonna be as kind and wonderful as Mom,” in the case of the girls.

    Growing up in the 70’s was perfect. I wish you could have been there. 

    But what do I know. I’m just a dummygod.

  • Ralph Waldo Emerson – The Over-Soul; Emerson’s amazing insight into the “source” of wisdom and intellect.

    In 1841 Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote an essay that is, at once, oddly insightful and wonderfully honest regarding a topic which has become very nearly anathema, the light and wisdom that is contained within all men and the inability of the frail human mind to create its own wisdom in the absence of this light. He reasons, through the lens of history, that the great thoughts and deeds of human endeavor have come from a source beyond mere intellect and are, rather, discovered through humility and obedience to, what he termed, the Over-Soul by seekers of truth. The poignance of his essay is revelatory of Emerson’s own connection with the Over-Soul and his words ring with truth that is too seldom available to readers in this century of intellectual over-stimulation. We have available every conceivable turn of a phrase or possibility of gods to worship in the multitudes of media literally at our fingertips and yet all of the truth contained in so many words had already been distilled hundreds of years ago for all men to read, words distilled by those men who were allowed insight into their own souls by virtue of their honesty and humility of purpose.

    Those men, who endeavored to find not their own rationality but the reality of those things beyond the corporeal veil, those things which are ineffable yet more real than any object which may be grasped and tooled, are the lamps which reveal the blueprints of the foundation of the infinite realm made flesh which was laid before the creation of the universe. Those men speak true wisdom that resonates within those whose minds and bodies are attuned to the delicate symphony of life celebrating its Maker and all of it is within us waiting to be set free if we would only let go of our own vainglorious prejudice towards the matter we have named reality and instead seek to find the driving force that animates and distills the physical world into an ultimate perfection that is the beneficiary of evolution. Evolution drives everything to the fulfillment of its nature, the nature that is irrevocable, irresistible, and inevitable in the end. Evolution is the hand of God at work within the frivolity of the quantum, leaving the choice of the observer to create its own destiny yet already knowing the final composition that the march of time will produce.

    This final picture, the masterpiece of creation is revealed to itself gradually through the mechanism of time. Being outside of time allows our Creator the vantage point of omniscience and the miracle of revelation is simply the gradual unveiling of the Magnum Opus to the hearts and minds of all and especially to the men who endeavor to glimpse beyond the next fold. Being unable to contain their own enthusiasm, this enthusiasm, to the masses, appears as insanity in many cases. It becomes a fervor and zeal that blinds the witness to all encumbrances, driving them forth into the turmoil and fray created by the force of their vision of the next turning of life into spirit, the next evolution of mankind. Mankind must submit to its own evolution. It has no choice; although it will resist or challenge the torrential current that draws it to an inevitable conclusion out of ignorance or fear, the destination is set and the painting complete. The only task left to the world is to learn to distinguish the resistance from the revelation and Emerson has a few words of advice to allow that distinction to be made:

    “The great distinction between teachers sacred or literary; between poets like Herbert, and poets like Pope; between philosophers like Spinoza, Kant, and Coleridge, – and philosophers like Locke, Paley, Mackintosh and Stewart; between men of the world who are reckoned accomplished talkers, and here and there a fervent mystic, prophesying half-insane under the infinitude of his thought, is that one class speak from within, or from experience, as parties and possessors of the fact; and the other class from without, as spectators merely, or perhaps as acquainted with the fact on the evidence of third persons. It is of no use to preach to me from without. I can do that too easily myself. Jesus speaks always from within, and in a degree that transcends all others. In that is the miracle. That includes the miracle. My soul believes beforehand that it ought so to be. All men stand continually in the expectation of the appearance of such a teacher. But if a man do not speak from within the veil, where the word is one with that it tells of, let him lowly confess it.”

    Ralph Waldo Emerson

    It bears repeating, “…where the word is one with that it tells of…” 

    The word, truth, must be one with truth; otherwise words are the mere utterances of simpletons casting self-aggrandizing spells into the aether, in other words sin. And though lies can only lead those who have freely chosen to be separate from the truth further into the darkness the lie is still a blemish on the perfection that is the magnum opus and it must be stricken from perfection else it is not perfection; and those who have chosen to seek to be closer and closer to the light grow stronger in their vision and conviction with each step and speak into the world the honesty that unfolds perfection and light even to death because they have seen the opus magnum and its sheer beauty must not and cannot be soiled. 

    Read “The Over-Soul” by Ralph Waldo Emerson. It will be a step towards the light and divine nature of the universe that will lead you upon a journey of unfathomable rewards and if you find a splinter of the light it contains that you can hold then let it be so, for the light is not capable of being hidden and it will shine from you as a beacon to those who seek it.

    But what do I know? I’m just a dummygod.

  • James Russell Lowell – Abraham Lincoln; A testimony to his uncommon clarity of thought during confusing times.

    After the assassination of Abraham Lincoln on April 15th, 1865 James Russell Lowell, a political critic, poet, and scholar, reflected upon the man who led America out of the turmoil, division, and angst that had boiled over into the Civil War. His observations of the President and his lengthy prosaic descriptions of, not only the man but the circumstances of his presidency, are remarkable for their clarity of thought and notable for their honest nonpartisan assessment of the political environment of the time, an assessment that is eerily accurate even today.

    Not only did this man see the truth behind the disparate events of the time but he also somehow could discern the spiritual forces that had congealed and conspired for and against the great political experiment that was, and still is, the United States of America. 

    His essay on Abraham Lincoln is one of the most insightful and accurate analyses of the complex environment and delicate sentiments of the years leading up to the Civil War, and of the miraculous events which, no single man could plan or devise, culminated in the preservation of the union of states that we still know as America. Abraham Lincoln seemed to be the manifestation of the perfect blend of honor, humility, sagacity, and sheer will, into a single, personality that could bear the responsibility of a nation divided, heal its brokenness, and simultaneously preserve its greatest treasures, the Constitution, individual freedom, and liberty for all men devoted to the principles of a republic where individuals have meaning enough that an overarching entity which governs them does not enslave them.

    Lowell’s clarity even extends to the numinous, as exemplified by the following quote from his essay relating a seed to the miracle that it contains, showing that Lowell knows that the truly amazing lies outside of the physical representation of a thing but that its real beauty is in the potentials and forces that align to allow it to fulfill its destiny:

    “To contrast the size of the oak with that of the parent acorn, as if the poor seed had paid all costs from its slender strongbox, may serve for a child’s wonder; but the real miracle lies in that divine league which bound all the forces of nature to the service of the tiny germ in fulfilling its destiny.”

    James Russell Lowell

    And in my estimation all the forces of nature had been bound, during our country’s great crisis, to the service of the tiny idea of a republic for good and righteousness and Abraham Lincoln served as the conduit for those forces. The blood of our ancestors of all races and colors have paid the reparations for the freedom of all men in our republic. Let us not shame them by petty arguments and accusations regarding past injustices. Men are imperfect but ideals, when aligned with the ultimate will of the numinous, cannot help but surmount every obstacle and breach every impasse.

    James Russell Lowell… uncommon clarity.

    But what do I know? I’m just a dummygod.

  • Dear God, Why Pain?

    Very good question. Pain forces growth and change. Pain is the stimulus for you to seek good. Pain intensifies your comfort, peace, happiness, your serenity when they come. Pain allows you to see what works in the world and what does not work in the world. Pain shows you where evil things lie. Pain evaporates all of the meaningless parts of the world and opens your eyes to what is truly important. Pain is the result of your own choices and those of your ancestors, the sins of your fathers have been visited upon you as well. 

    Pain is not the path I wished for you but it is the path you have chosen and because I want you to love completely without My coercion and of your own free will I allow you to suffer the consequences of your own decisions because when you choose to love Me I will know that your heart is pure and that I did not coerce you and we will both know that this is the Truth.

    But what do I know? I’m just a dummygod.