Friday, May 14, 2004
Don't fear God? You should, that fucker'll kill you!
Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday fucking old man! Happy birthday to me!
I must say that 27 wasn't really all that different from 26. I have the same job. I attended the same college. I'm married to Nina still. All three cats survived both years. All things considered I've reached a bit of a stalemate against the turbulence I had created in younger ages.
However, one of the things that surprises me is that there has been almost no change in my basic philosophies of life. I mean at age 16 I was a strict Roman Catholic. By age 19 I was well swept into the cult that is Wicca (and yes it is a cult. Don't agree with me? Call me when you're deprogrammed). At 21 I was completely clueless and considered myself agnostic. By 24 I had myself convinced tat there is no God.
The around age 25 I started doing some thinking about the physical composition of the universe. After all we are all made of stardust right? Three years of independant study in astronomy, cosmology, physics, philosophy and the like, and my newer beliefs are only all the more strengthened, they haven't changed a bit. And for the first time they don't require that I hate anyone. It's a new exerience for me, so for comfort purposes, fuck the Aborigines.
Since my mother's recent visit to new-Mecca (aka. my 1926 square foot Arizona home) I have come to the realization that my mom, the very bedrock of my Catholic upbringing, may well be in the death-throws of faith. She asked me point blank what I believed. I explained my thoughts on science, the grand unified theory, and more. Moreover, I told her that I simply can't believe that in the eighty or so years (if we're lucky) that we've been rented out these fleshen vessels, that we must prove our moral worth to the point of eternal judgement. To this my mom tells me that she believes in reincarnation and that we return until we get it right.
Wait a sec. Reincarnation? What about the population boom, new souls or old? Why don't I rememeber my last lives? I'm pretty sure that any moral fiber I have was generated as a result of contemplation of occurances within my current lifetime. Plus, isn't reincarnation a belief that isn't exactly in line with the Catholic doctrine? If so, then my mom is a bad Catholic. And I know that means trouble.
Foe fucks sake people, isn't it good enough to know that we're here and that it's only a temporary thing? If you wanna know what lies beyond death, just hang out, your number will be called I promise. Just do what it is in your nature to do, your body and mind will guide you all by themselves. Trying to figure out the afterlife is an effort in futility. Mom, Nina, world, we're all going to get there regardless of how much thought or faith we put into it.
The reason I say that this may be the end of my dear mother's purer faith is this: Right when I was beginning to question my own Catholic faith the most around age 17 I turned to prayer. Lots and lots of prayer. But I just wasn't gettign any answers. The more devout I became, the more it slipped. The it was gone. I don't remember when exactly, but it disapeared and hasn't even stopped in to say hi. Mom is now sending me one of those very religious birthday cards and praying that I won't run out of gas and telling me that everything is going to be ok because God wants it to be. Sounds familiar, that's all.
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I must say that 27 wasn't really all that different from 26. I have the same job. I attended the same college. I'm married to Nina still. All three cats survived both years. All things considered I've reached a bit of a stalemate against the turbulence I had created in younger ages.
However, one of the things that surprises me is that there has been almost no change in my basic philosophies of life. I mean at age 16 I was a strict Roman Catholic. By age 19 I was well swept into the cult that is Wicca (and yes it is a cult. Don't agree with me? Call me when you're deprogrammed). At 21 I was completely clueless and considered myself agnostic. By 24 I had myself convinced tat there is no God.
The around age 25 I started doing some thinking about the physical composition of the universe. After all we are all made of stardust right? Three years of independant study in astronomy, cosmology, physics, philosophy and the like, and my newer beliefs are only all the more strengthened, they haven't changed a bit. And for the first time they don't require that I hate anyone. It's a new exerience for me, so for comfort purposes, fuck the Aborigines.
Since my mother's recent visit to new-Mecca (aka. my 1926 square foot Arizona home) I have come to the realization that my mom, the very bedrock of my Catholic upbringing, may well be in the death-throws of faith. She asked me point blank what I believed. I explained my thoughts on science, the grand unified theory, and more. Moreover, I told her that I simply can't believe that in the eighty or so years (if we're lucky) that we've been rented out these fleshen vessels, that we must prove our moral worth to the point of eternal judgement. To this my mom tells me that she believes in reincarnation and that we return until we get it right.
Wait a sec. Reincarnation? What about the population boom, new souls or old? Why don't I rememeber my last lives? I'm pretty sure that any moral fiber I have was generated as a result of contemplation of occurances within my current lifetime. Plus, isn't reincarnation a belief that isn't exactly in line with the Catholic doctrine? If so, then my mom is a bad Catholic. And I know that means trouble.
Foe fucks sake people, isn't it good enough to know that we're here and that it's only a temporary thing? If you wanna know what lies beyond death, just hang out, your number will be called I promise. Just do what it is in your nature to do, your body and mind will guide you all by themselves. Trying to figure out the afterlife is an effort in futility. Mom, Nina, world, we're all going to get there regardless of how much thought or faith we put into it.
The reason I say that this may be the end of my dear mother's purer faith is this: Right when I was beginning to question my own Catholic faith the most around age 17 I turned to prayer. Lots and lots of prayer. But I just wasn't gettign any answers. The more devout I became, the more it slipped. The it was gone. I don't remember when exactly, but it disapeared and hasn't even stopped in to say hi. Mom is now sending me one of those very religious birthday cards and praying that I won't run out of gas and telling me that everything is going to be ok because God wants it to be. Sounds familiar, that's all.
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