Blossoming Dawn

As I sit by this semi-creek, 

The time is ripe to have my speak, 

Regarding this autumn-spring of mine, 

Blossoming further as my spirits shine, 

Life is O so good. 

I taste its fruits where I do go, in what I read, write and do, 

I feel my time is coming nigh and the joy that will ensue. 

In this dawn of life I have no fear, I walk on orange clouds, 

My heart is unfettered, weightless, free – the grace of glimmering mounds. 

Friends and foes will come and go, but I will carry on, 

I’ve earned my right to wear my crown – in my summer’s dawn. 

 07/20/07

Science and Religion: The Case of Galileo

Science and religion are like two worlds from distant galaxies (or perhaps better, from different parallel universes) colliding into each other head on. The difference being that both planets would be destroyed. In this case, however, science lives on and grows to better humanity while increasing our understanding of the universe. Religion continues to perish in the rubble of its dead idols; one of the reasons being, that science invigorates and gives substantial hope, whereas religion deadens and offers nothing but fear and false hope. As Galileo said, “the increase of known truths stimulates the investigation, establishment, and growth of the arts; not their diminution or destruction.” Indeed, the arts, yes, but not superstition. How shrewd he was in his wordings, and how afire he was for the truth. He lived in times of great constraint and peril, yet he did not let this hinder him from continuing his immeasurably important work, despite threats coming at him from every nook and cranny.

Nowhere is the fierce opposition between religion and science better illustrated than in the Bible itself. Shortly after man and woman are created in the book of Genesis a stern warning resounds from the Almighty: that they may eat the fruit of any tree, except for the fruit of the tree of knowledge (Genesis 2:16-17). Was this forbidden fruit called the fruit of sin, of wrong, of evil? No. The “fruit of knowledge.” As Friedrich Nietzsche so accurately puts it in The Antichrist: “Thou shalt not know.” Knowledge and science expose religion as mythology, and religious texts as the word, not of God, but of primitive, ignorant men, who declared their writings holy – so no one would dare question them.

Galileo is a man who dared to know, and beyond the Holy Scriptures. He was brought to trial before the Roman Inquisition for verses such as Psalm 93:1, which incorrectly tell us that, “The world is firmly established; it cannot be moved,” and for the fable of Joshua 10:12-13, where God stops the sun, instead of the earth, “in the middle of the sky” for it to delay “going down about a full day.” Suitably, the strength of the trial turned out to be a forgery by the Holy Office. And it took the threat of the rack by these so-called holy men to get him to recant his vital and groundbreaking discoveries. Now, in Cristiano Banti's famous 1857 painting, entitled Galileo facing the Roman Inquisition, what do we see? Is it not a god being tried by men so utterly unworthy, but granted authority over him due to a book suddenly on the brink of becoming obsolete in the realm of facts and truth? And so he stands tall and proud with his head held high, for he knows he’s done absolutely nothing wrong, and is in fact the highest breed of man - being tried by the lowest. He brings promise - they leave decay. For science evolves, nourishes and emancipates, while religion stagnates, corrupts - and fetters.

Jesus Being a Pest, Yahweh Being a Prick

In Matthew 26:36-45, Jesus requests three times of his daddy, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." Some people just crack under pressure, I guess . . . even the son of God himself. But I mean, come on! Three times?! Talk about being a pest! I thought he was all-knowing, so why would he have to make that feeble request even once? Didn’t he know that it “must be”? Didn’t he know that he absolutely had to die for the so-called sins of mankind and that there was no way out? Didn’t he realize, especially by that stage of the game, that even his omnipotent father couldn’t get him out of that one? I wonder how the rest of that conversation would have gone . . . the third time round . . .

JESUS: Please, Dad?! Pretty please with sugar on top?!

YAHWEH: No, Jesus! For the third time! Now stop asking me!

JESUS: Please?! I love you!

YAHWEH: You love everybody.

JESUS: But why do I have to go through all this shit? I don’t understand.

YAHWEH: Because of those two naked idiots in the Garden of Eden. They ate some fruit that gave them knowledge . . .

JESUS: I already know that stupid story. Come on! That whole thing about Adam and Eve is complete bullshit! They didn’t exist. Humans evolved from Australopithecus afarensis. There is no original sin, whatever the fuck that is.

YAHWEH: Yes, Son, but the Homo sapiens don’t know that yet. You and I just know that because we’re omniscient and created everything in the first place, Einstein.

JESUS: I know that!

YAHWEH: I know that you know that.

JESUS: Right. ’Cause you know all, and you and I are one. I am you; therefore I know all as well. Since we both have the same mind, I know all that you know, which is everything, ’cause we’re the one true God!

YAHWEH: Right. So why are you talking to yourself?

JESUS: I don’t know.

YAHWEH: Look, can we get this show on the road, please? I’ve got a lot of things to attend to. You can’t escape your destiny, Son. The Scriptures must be fulfilled. Now grow some balls and do this thing.

JESUS: Are you telling me that I have to be mocked, slandered, tortured and killed in the most heinous of ways as a “sacrifice” for the innocent disobedience of two nonexistent individuals, who ate a nonexistent fruit, from a nonexistent tree, which transferred nonexistent sin through the loins of all mankind?

YAHWEH: Oh, I’ll throw them all into hell forever if you don’t do it.

JESUS: But hell didn’t even exist until I started talking about it!

YAHWEH: Well, you’re not talkin’ your way out of this one, Son.

JESUS: But why do you want this? It’s all a sham!

YAHWEH: It’s the only way I can keep from taking my fury out upon them for all time . . . by watching you suffer and die.

JESUS: Your fury upon them for what? They’ve done nothing wrong, and you're the one who created them in the first place!

YAHWEH: I created them because I couldn’t get the little buggers out of my head, and they tormented me because they’re so fucking smug.

JESUS: What in the hell are you talking about, old man?! I’m about to get the shit beaten out of me and my ass crucified to two giant slabs of wood, and you’re babbling like a goddamn crazy person!

YAHWEH: I’m sorry, my son...
But until I’ve seen you whipped and beat, I cannot handle man,
Until I’ve seen you suffer, I cannot show the love I am.
Until I see your blood flow, and hear you scream in pain,
Every good deed that humans do will always be in vain.
Until I see them mock and tear you, and rend your skull with thorns,
My only joy will ever be to make them wish they were never born.
I put you there to suffer in agony, moaning with every breath,
My sadism saves mankind with your gory, gratuitous death.
Trust me, my son, don’t be afraid, for you know that we are one,
I cannot be sated until I hear you say that “it is done.”
Indeed you’ll die and descend to Hell where you’ll see dreadful things,
But then you’ll rise and sit by me and together we’ll rule as kings!
But until I’ve seen you ripped and pierced, I cannot tolerate man,
Until I’ve seen you in horror, I cannot be the being of love - I am.

JESUS: (...)

YAHWEH: Well? Any other questions?

JESUS: Jesus fucking Christ, you are really sick! Just what the hell was that?

YAHWEH: What, you didn’t like my poem?

JESUS: No, I didn’t like your freakin’ poem! Just how nuts are you? What is this?! What's going on?!

YAHWEH: You asked and you received, baby. Just like you preached.

JESUS: What is all this, one big joke to you or something? What’s going on here? And why am I talking to you if I am you? And if I know all that you know, why do I feel the need to keep asking you things? And why can’t I understand one goddamn thing you’ve been saying all this time? Why can’t I wrap my head around this whole ridiculous, morbid, horrible plot of yours? You’re not my father! I’m not the son of God! You’re not even God, are you?! You’re just a crazy voice inside my crazy head! You’re not real . . . are you?! (Listens) ARE YOU?! (Listens) Hello?! (Listens) Hey! Where the fuck did you go?! Hello?! (Listens) COME BACK! (Listens) HELLO?!

07/18/07

Epiphany

Written: April 28, 2006 

A few weeks ago, one night, in my car . . . just sitting . . . with a close friend, pondering life, high as a star, 

A morbidity came loose . . . in my mind. Where else? The usual. An equation beginning with the facing of my end, and the end of all, and their facing. Then of course the feeble attempts of human being the only creature in perpetual awareness – fear – of this, to perpetually do and act as if the day will never come – hence a futile suppression. But something is missing to trigger this desiderata; that is inevitable loneliness – being alone, and fear of it – the one thing worse than death: loneliness. 

It is this which has us desperately fight for life and make loneliness untrue, unreal, by searching for others, by scouring for love, executing talents, dying for praise, money, misery, problems, more people – eustress – anything to squash any possibility of any hint of loneliness. That is of course if we are healthy – or just deemed so. 

Through all this is that former fear of expiration forgotten: Death and loneliness assisting each other in assisting us. 

The former causing the latter, causing living – granting ease . . . or as much as realistically feasible. 

Fear of death => Fear of loneliness => Existing = Subdued or eliminated fear of both. 

And there it is: life’s equation of nihilistic existentialism. 

My buddy: “Dude, you’re seriously tripping me out.” 

Like I said . . . I was high.

Whether it Works

Whether it works out or not, I got to drive here on this sunny day,
Weather willing it to be this way,
This beautiful blue-sky sunny day.
How I adore days like these,
Moving swiftly, carelessly through days like these,
So perfect such days, so filled with life and spirit!
See? Even the birds agree; you can hear it.
Stressed and cleansed of all stress such days gift me,
They are a true gift; expecting nothing in return,
And for their allusion to a perfect world I do always yearn;
To travel through and be through,
To know through and see through,
To love through and grasp through,
That swishy sound of ripe May trees,
How I adore their uninhibited leaves,
Still calling my soul, always calling all; assuring me, wanting me…
Oh, this gorgeous day, what gifts of delight it brings me!
A reason of reasons I live for, a mother of heart,
It beats and resonates through all,
How lucky I am to have flown here (through this day) as the breeze embraced me,
It was well worth it, whether it works out or not.
And now on my way back I know this glimpse of a heaven will again surrender its gates,
Oh, the smell of nature…is there anything better? How we take for granted nature’s glorious traits.
I once again allow the breeze to whisk me away;
To kiss me and love me on this ethereal day,
And no matter what has and will come from what I’ve just done,
This day holds no vain,
No shame and no grain.
A bird again agrees in its appointed slot,
For the weather it was well worth it, whether it works out or not.

05/27/06

Godless Under a Godless Sky

Thick, warm sheet high above my head, 

Endless, whole, and invoking me. 

The moon almost full – my only holy leader, 

The first summer of my freedom. 

Me, myself, and I, 

Godless under a godless sky, 

A true romance, my final stance, 

The nightmare is over, my soul is sober, 

Intoxicated with my being's chance, 

Life and I shall have our dance. 

Behold my mighty immunity, 

To tenets, tricks, and hypocrisy, 

No hoary eye with its tyrannous stare, 

Burning me, torturing me, leaving me bare. 

So beautiful this white-black-blue bed it is, 

The moon its only sign. 

Acknowledging and affirming what this life it is, 

A trail of fire I leave behind. 

No specters left to encramp my entrails, 

and turn them into my noose; 

Now the specters are my slaves - toys I rightfully abuse. 

Do you madly love life? Inexorably fervid for it as me? 

Hold fast to the fathomable, believe your will, and know that you’ll be free. 

Tell me heartily, are you like I? 

Godless under a godless sky? 

Then show it what you have, 

It's time for the long embrace. 

Break loose the fetters once and for all! 

The clock says “Yes! Do! Know! Enjoy! It’s time to have our ball!” 

Twilight rains its swarms of stardust, 

Dare to cup your hands, 

Splash it all upon your face, 

Let it seep through your eyes and mind, 

Then you’ll know what man has done, 

And for once you’ll dance alive. 

Are you like me? 

Godless under a godless sky? 

Are you like me? 

Godless until the day you die? 

06/07/06 

"The concept of 'God' was until now the greatest objection to existence. We deny God, we deny the responsibility that originates from God: and thereby we redeem the world." - Nietzsche; Twilight of the Idols; The Four Great Errors; 8

True Vice

This poem was inspired to me by aphorism 29 of Nietzsche's beautifully vitriolic, brilliant, and earth-shatteringly incredible Antichrist. It reminded me of a loved-one who has never been happy with himself in the world, and so turned to Christianity as a defense-mechanism, and a place to hide within himself, which is a common, self-empowering mistake for people in sick states of mind to pitifully do out of desperation. He uses his faith not only to justify and sanction his illness (what Nietzsche would call his decadence), but uses it also as a weapon. A weapon to spread his disease, a weapon against the world which he is physiologically abortive in, against the flesh which he cannot gratify, and even against the joy of laughter if it is from mockery REMOTELY to do with sexuality! He became a REAL party-pooper. Too bad, so sad; one more person willingly victimized at the depraved hands of Christianity and all the conscience-rape it has to offer a self-loathing ascetic masochist. Not to mention the reward-aspect of it, which offers so much "divine" gratitude to someone UNABLE to grant himself anything – but denial.

True Vice
04/25/06

Attacked from all sides or just feeling so,
Too weak for the world, for reality, to know.
No substance will do - bringing more out of you,
The last thing you need – an anti-numbing,
You’re screwed.

So you burrow within,
By reflex, at peace,
No matter where you’ve been,
Consummated physiological grease.

You’ve found your way,
On warm, rocky paths,
Buried is where you’ll stay,
Loving sweet hatred-Mass.

Don’t hate me for being of this world,
Happy, complete, jaded, bold,
I’ve made my choice to live, while disdainful angst has you cower,
You cannot be reached – an unblossoming flower.

I see you ostentatiously happy in your masochistic misery;
Self-made content in a world that can’t be broken,
A self-denying vice, so hollow, unspoken.

Nothingness has prevailed!
The imperious lies were made for you!
This is what it’s come down to!
“The Kingdom of God is within you!”

Seven months after writing that, I came across the following passage of Nietzsche's in his autobiography. It turns out, HE considered puritanical attacks on sex, lust, and life to be vice within themselves, as well! So I’m not alone. I was really blown away. I guess great minds think alike. :) Not that I would DARE compare myself to the man, of course.

“And lest I leave any doubt about my very decent and strict views in these matters, let me still cite a proposition against vice from my moral code: I use the word 'vice' in my fight against every kind of anti-nature or, if you prefer pretty words, idealism. The proposition reads: 'The preaching of chastity amounts to a public incitement to anti-nature. Every kind of contempt for sex, every impurification of it by means of the concept ‘impure,’ is the crime par excellence against life – is the real sin against the holy spirit of life.'” - Friedrich Nietzsche; Ecce Homo