“Just before a baby is born,
an angel shows it everything there is to knowand learn
Then at the moment of birth,
the angel touches the infant’s upper lip,
and the child forgets everything.
We spend the rest of our lives
Or so the story goes according to www.themeaningoflife.org
THERE ARE MANY views about life’s apparent purpose and just as much conjecture concerning it’s origins. The more religiously forthright of you may scathe my seemingly dismissive use of the word “conjecture” when that highly regarded belief rooted at the seat of your soul kicks, like a knee-jerk, urging you to rain holy water down on my quarter – but hopefully you’ve developed beyond the realm of the subjective, mastered your emotions and possess the capacity for forgiveness, as your god would indeed see fit.
But which god? Does he command you to spread the word of his love and bestow grace and light unto the world? Or is he (or even she) one who instils fear in your heart along with an abundance of nuclear weapons in order to protect his or her good name against the ‘enemy’, or even ‘one who believes differently to you for no other reason than that of geographical location’? This be a god of simple ‘fundamental’ pleasures: death to the nay-sayers! Surely this is the devil among the tailors?
And therein lies the first of many issues which render me reticent when it comes to getting off the flippin’ fence: choice. Freedom of choice and free will may well be the work of the devil too – as I might lead on to prove, myself as a case in point – and many a Christian who might come across this article will probably nod their head in agreement now and subsequently pray for my soul – and I mean that in earnest. Thanks! But, and this is by no means a new notion: you cannot all be right?
This is where I sit, somewhere between here and the vantage point of that very famous photo of ‘Earth Rising’ with my arms folded watching the massacre ensue. My feet are cold and I can’t breathe. The backs of my eyeballs itch as the vacuum of space teases them out of my skull like a Hoover to a jar of pickled onions. This time I choose to pass willingly for all the vicarious pain and suffering evoked; for and on behalf of a humanity as lost as a child in a Milton Keynes shopping complex. But will I return, as the Buddhists will have me believe? One notch down on the food chain perhaps, having failed to grasp life’s true purpose? Maybe I’ll ascend to a place of godly proportions, having nailed it right here, and inherit my own universe with its own set of physical laws and parameters?
Most likely – and in true Where’s Wally fashion – the one true god will reveal himself with a pointy-wiggly finger of sorts and strike me down for having thought these very thoughts I now write, ending my soul’s journey forever more – but hold on a minute! that seems all too unfair; I wasn’t to know. You gave me this brain and these inquisitive faculties, who are you to smite me so? Oh wait, of course, you are God.
Now, I consider myself a thinker rather than a believer and thoughts form part of that mutable process known as thinking. In terms of theistic musings such as this, bringing one of these myriad thoughts to the fore by way of focus only works to make me all too aware of the still lingering thoughts I’ve omitted in the process, and, having no true objective frame of reference, confined to this body, these eyes, etc. it’s certainly not my place to arrive at a suitable conclusion deemed correct. I guess what I’m getting at is that I understand all too well that there are no absolutes, and if there are we lack the capacity to comprehend them, in this dimension at least.
Well, if I were god, I might be a little miffed to see these children of mine assume ideas above their station to be absolute! “Just look around you,” I’d say “Isn’t life itself amazing? This place I’ve given you is teeming with life in all varieties and colours for your very wonderment! Heck, colours alone are amazing – red, green, brown, and there’s even more than that – take mauve for instance: fantastic! An entire spectrum derived of the one true white-light as it hits your atmosphere and is splayed and arrayed for all to see. I’m very proud of you but you’re just ruining it for yourselves!” Due to some anomaly, these words never make it to the collective human ear and, without guidance, we are compelled to fill in the gaps ourselves.
Which leads me to purport that perhaps God is a graduate of The Infinite Being’s Academy of Planetary Design and Evolution (The IBAPDE) in some parallel dimension where time moves slower, people (gods as we know them) are bigger and more beardy, and we are but a relative microcosmic dance of painted light and matter. So here is our god, merely a student of an inter-dimensional fine arts college, and we are his Show and Tell, only, we are the technical equivalent of an heinous GCSE science experiment gone wrong. We have thus been quarantined, bereft of any contact with our creator. Furthermore, given our trajectory towards total mass annihilation, we have become quite the amusing subject, left open for study, and, given that we are destined to destroy ourselves, we help curtail the spending of the IBAPDE’s extermination budget when the term is over – It would appear that the recession is trans-dimensional.
As above, so below.
I am no prophet, and I do not claim to have the answers. So please, send me no money. Unless you really want to fund a mentalist!
Words by Dan
To Be Continued…