The Earth is pretty wild place. Even on the most mundane of adventures, say a trip to the corner store, there’s a good chance you’ll come across a scenario rife with outlandish, freaky, or unexpected twists.
Consider the novelty in this world. Think of all the strange and wonderful things you’ve seen and done since your first sip of mother’s milk. Consider all the projects still on your to-do list, and all the imagined situations you’ll likely never get to experience first-hand because, well, there just ain’t enough time in the day. While you’re at it, add to your considerations the things you haven’t even heard about – the wonders that have never blipped on your radar because they exist beyond the fringe of the Associated Press app on your smartphone.
There’s one hell of an experiential buffet out there to feast from.
Now imagine this – what if you grew up in a dark, windowless room for decades, devoid of any influence beyond being supplied the basics to sustain your body, and someone asked you one day to imagine what life might be like beyond the walls. What would you picture? Do you think you could envision even a fraction of the wacky shit you know to be existential? Let’s assume you possess the greatest imagination since the writers of knock-knock jokes – I’d still wager an extremely slim chance of you envisioning flowers, trees, and birds, let alone rose-scented hair conditioner, pines covered in tinsel and blinking lights, or flying metal-tube machines. Even with the greatest examples nature could provide, we still had a hell of a time inventing the wheel and Flowbee.
Before we go further, I want you to consider what we might call random or chaotic forces that exist in nature – wind, rains, earthquakes, temperature swings, whatever – the entire gamut of dynamic and phenomenal energies Mother Earth whips up for fun.
Whenever I’ve been in a hail storm, I never once had the chance to observe a small igloo build before my eyes. I’ve never seen a tornado rip through a trailer park and leave a structure resembling the Eiffel Tower in its wake. I have yet to witness a YouTube video of paintball spatterings accidentally forming an image of the Last Supper, and rarely do I see pebbles wash up on a beach spelling words or sharing mathematical equations, though I did once find an SOS message, but could not for the life of me figure out the rocks’ distress. Point being that it’s not very often we come across frenzied, chaotic, or explosive energies that translate into anything but even greater frenzy, chaos, or destruction.
The incredibly varied display of architecture we discover as we trek this world, whether organic or manmade, cries out intentional forethought and intelligent design. But to suggest a tomato seed was crafted by the hand of an unknown, sentient being will only serve to outrage the same groups who consider it routine to splice Round-up genes into wheat.
Genetic engineering is old hat. Humans have engaged in selective breeding as far back as the history books go, whether plant, animal, or human. With recent advances of modern science, DNA manipulation has become a bit of a yawner for the public as well. But while the story of cloning sheep or growing a human heart from stem cells is passed up for sex rumours about the Kardashian offspring, suggesting the modern human to be an engineered result of unknown intelligent designers will be cause for outrage and disbelief. Peer-reviewed journals will concede that humans are built from materials loosed from exploded suns, but upon the suggestion of stars being engineered with intention, a scarce nanosecond will pass before “foil-hat” references begin wildly flying.
I’m not trying to make a case for an omniscient entity here, as that debate will ever spark uproar and squabble amongst the masses, I’m only suggesting that the cosmos has unfathomable creative factors and unknowns currently in play that make mankind’s ingenuity seem like mentally challenged toenail clippings brainstorming alternate endings for the Fast and the Furious 7.
I guess there’s always been a game of semantics in place. Whether you call it science, god, religion, or chaos, the labels always serve to unwittingly polarize people who are, on some level, looking for the same answers.
So instead of God being our creator, Chaos now is. I’m fine with that. Tomato, tuhmahto. I still want to know how Chaos crafted a seed. I’m fascinated with the Chaos method of generating electromagnetic forces. I’d really love for Chaos to explain gravity to me without involving the picture of ball being swallowed by a two-dimensional whirlpool, and I’d happily trade my iPhone 9 for a chance to know how Chaos became conscious.
That being said, I want to reprint part of an old post regarding God vs Science. It’s part of my “Have some fucking fun with life” campaign:
If you’re a die-hard materialist, and believe you wink out into nothingness after this ride through life, you have the greatest motivation in the world to spend each and every second doing the things you love. You should be highly motivated to stay as healthy as possible and avoid as much societal toxicity as possible to keep your one shot at existence protracted, while maintaining the highest level of cognitive ability possible.
It’s difficult for me to understand why anyone who is vehemently opposed to a notion of an afterlife would spend any significant amount of their time imposing mental stupors or physical stresses upon their bodies using any kind of numbing drug, whether it be alcohol, food, or whatever – each wasted day piled into a mountain of remorse to ponder when the inevitable end becomes a genuine realization.
If mainstream, Western-world material science is so utterly convinced of our limited lifespans and expulsion to non-existence after death, why does it foster lifestyles that support anything less than the best foods, cleanest water, non-invasive or non-destructive machineries/technologies/medicines/agriculture… the list is fucking endless. How is it possible that a group of people who believe in a limited amount of existential days spends most of their time killing themselves?
If you believe consciousness carries on after the body-suit crumbles, you should be equally motivated to spend your days fearlessly following your dreams and passions. What would be the harm in failing at anything here, or making bold choices no one else has the balls to make if you know in your heart you’re an eternal being? How could fear possibly be an issue in your life if you believe consciousness to be never ending?
There’s always been a wonderfully creative energy permeating our existence, we just haven’t taken the time to step out of our dark rooms to exploit its power. Solutions exist that we’ve never considered. Fruits exist that we’ve never suckled on. Acres of land exist that have never known a human footprint, and relationships are out there that only need a “Hello” to be discovered.
Tis the season for tearing off our conformist jumpsuits and dancing naked in the streets again. That’s a metaphor, but if you choose to take it literally, at least keep the Santa hat on. It might earn you some leniency in front of the judge.