Friday, August 24, 2007

The End Times

The End Times

It’s a Sunday morning in Provo, Utah, and I’m trying to find breakfast, but the place is a ghost town. This phenomenon is exaggerated in Utah, but there is something common about Sundays across our United States. In Colorado you can’t buy liquor on Sundays. In parts of Utah, it can be a severe quest just to find an open restaurant. In Provo on a Sunday you feel like a member of a rebel militia just sitting inside Starbucks sipping coffee with people who are conspicuously not Mormon on the Lord’s day. The Mormons are all in Church. I pulled up to a cute blond in a little white car who said she was on her way to Church in Salt Lake City at 1:00 in the afternoon. She told me that many people spend practically their whole Sundays out here in big sterile white LDS churches scattered across the land homogenously. Then she asked if I was Mormon. I told her no, and then as she was driving off I smilingly wondered if I had said yes, would she have invited me to some wonderful place?

There are churches all over this world, some are called Temples, some are called Mosques, some are called Ashrams. They generally have in common a story they tell which explains reality. Every religion offers an answer to the ultimate question. The answer to this question is what every religious follower is buying. God created the heavens and the earth in such and such a way, and it is our job to do such and such, and when we die, such and such will happen. It’s a pretty simple formula really, and collectively as a species, humans have been pretty good customers for these religious providers over the years, and it has become second nature for us to believe.

Religious beliefs are often passed down from parents to children, and we are often drawn to the same beliefs as the tribe we surround ourselves with. Some individuals have always broken away from the beliefs passed onto them in their youth, and have rebelled toward Atheism, or chosen a different religion, generally one which surrounds them with their desired peers.

The expansion of religion in the modern world is a puzzling phenomenon, although it makes sense in light of what churches have become, and yet it doesn’t make sense at all. For the first time the world is connected in ways that have never been recorded in history. The information superhighway runs from hemisphere to hemisphere, continent to continent, and village to village. We are one world for the first time.

50 years ago in America, color trumped religious belief in affecting church group membership. Segregation was just ending, and while Institutional Religion still reached across color lines to expand its power, individual churches were still largely color specific. The black man went to a church filled with black people, the white man to the church filled with white people. It was obvious early on that religion was pretty ineffective at unifying different groups of people, even though it has always been good at getting mostly homogenous groups of people to believe the same new thing, and then just the same old thing; and other, totally different groups can believe the same dogma, but often don’t. Members of specific communities historically held similar beliefs amongst themselves in the first place. The church itself was not wholly the tribe.

Religion spreads through communities by offering salvation, feelings of connectedness, and a storybook “truth,” to members of a community. New converts, already members of their individual communities, are then helpful in attracting other members of their community to the religion. Humans crave connection. Community offers connectedness.

As things have become more and more disjointed, as communities have become more and more diverse, and therefore confused and fragmented, as tribal aspects of connectedness to one’s community have died, churches themselves, the representatives of religion, have become community centers, beacons of connectedness and homogeny; but the connectedness is limited to those who buy the story, thus becoming “believers.”

Religions still offer the answer to the question, “what does it all mean?” But the purveyor of religion, the church, has gained a new advantage in its viral spread because of the community it offers to people, as sanctuary, in this ever more confusing, discombobulated and ugly, scary, new world. Time ago, before old time community started being eroded by the invention of the boat, the automobile, airplane, television and computer, people could go about their lives in their little, close-knit communities, going to church once a week to be reminded that God loved them and that the light was brighter on the other side. But back in those days, community was built into their simple lives, where faces didn’t disappear all the time, and most of the people you knew were regular fixtures in your life until they died. That has all changed.

The stories religion tells have not changed. Truth is still the product being sold, and the truth they are telling has never made so little sense in light of the best knowledge available to reason and intellect. But in this new world of overpopulation, disjointed community, and an overworked, overtravelled, under socialized population, the human connectedness which churches provide has become an important part of what religion has for sale. Belief is the ticket to a community largely missing from the modern world. Not only do churches still offer a collective version of the truth, provided by the faith, they also offer a community of people who believe the same thing. The world of the open-minded can be lonely in comparison. And religions and their representative churches just keep pumping and growing, because like corporations and other creations of ignorance and separation they have no concern for man, only concern for themselves and their growth, and they thrive on human separation, desperation, sadness, and loneliness. They all support each other institutionally, and man pays the price in this lonely world outside the Garden.

This brings us to the topic of reason in religion. There is reason for religion, but there is little reason in religion anymore. We have discussed the reasons for the pervasiveness of religion. Thousands of years ago we believed. We may have believed that there were multiple gods, if we were Greek. We may have believed in a mother creator, if we were one of quite a few Native American Tribes. We believed, mostly. I don’t know the names of any ancient atheists, but I’m sure there were some.

Before telescopes came along to show us the infinite nature of the universe and the multiple universes, back when all we knew “out there” was the sun and sky in the day, and the moon and stars at night, God was a pretty good explanation for things. Sensibly, the God or Gods, back then, were intricately tied to the sun and moon. Afterwards, when the ball really started rolling, and the stories got more complicated as people developed more and more complex societies, moving away from a relationship with the providence of the land, the God idea became more and more human like, and grew into the religions of today. Hence, we have ended up with an angry, punishing, human-like, patriarchal creator God as the most powerful God concept of todays reality. When this God concept began emerging we didn’t know that our species and our ancestor species had been around for hundreds of thousands of years. We didn’t know that “God” created dinosaurs, alligators, and monkeys, before he created us. We didn’t know that we probably set out from Africa on our eventual colonization of the globe.

Organized religion came out of the creation stories of our ancestors. One built on another, and another, and another. Islam uses the same stories as Christianity, Christianity the same stories as Judaism and paganism, and then the additions and the rules. Islam believes Jesus was a prophet, not the son of God. To Muslims, the holy trinity equates to polytheism. Eastern religions have their differences, but are stories nonetheless. What is a prophet, or a human god, or a Buddha, but just another human being who speaks one version of truth, which resonates with many people?

Never in the history of our species, have these different versions of the truth, these creation stories, spread as far, or made as little sense, as they do now.

There was good reason for religion once, and the stories they told did actually make some sense at some point long ago. Belief meant an easier life, at little expense. Today faith may be the most dangerous temptation we face. It is tempting to latch onto a religion in these days of looting, and the ruin of our Earth. It is easier to believe that God is in charge, that He created the world for us and that there is a divine plan, than to choose reason and admit that there is insufficient evidence of God’s work in today’s world to prove His existence unless a person spells G-O-D with the letters, M-A-N. We have to face the possibility that both moments of connectedness, beauty, and spirituality, as well as destruction, discontent, and human suffering, are created in the minds of human beings.

It is possible that we are the Gods of our own reality, and have always been. What we think and create becomes truth. Like Gods, we are constantly manifesting reality. Not just concrete objects, like planes, trains, cell-phones, and computers, but also spiritual and metaphysical realities. The Bible can be truth for Christians, the Koran can be truth for Muslims, and for those of us who believe in our own theory of interconnectedness, faith in the infinite nature of the universe can be our encouragement. But all these are our inventions nonetheless, or maybe time doesnt' exist, and they therefore already existed, and we just discovered them and made them manifest. To believe in infinite possibility may not be quite as easy as choosing faith in a specific religious dogma, which fills in all the blanks that an honest assessment of reality leaves us without, but it does offer us an open-mind. It offers us a chance to live in harmony with our human family, who, through our rejection of dogma and "knowing," we are all suddenly allowed to love as brothers and sisters, no matter how much their beliefs differ from our own. Our own truths become just that, and we begin to create our own reality, separate from the chains of the past.

A rational look at the world today puts us square in the drivers seat, and it looks a lot like we deserve a ticket for reckless driving. Where is God? “He’s coming, he’s coming,” we’ve been told for thousands of years. And for thousands of years we’ve been here, dressing up God like man, and telling each other that it’s Him, not us in the driver seat. But we are driving baby. We need only look at the numerous species we are driving into extinction on a daily basis, and all the life producing earth we are sending into hibernation. If they could talk, or were conscious beings as we, they might be even more likely than us to ask “where is God?” And as the last of the species looks around for any of his fellows, out of his dying lips he might tearfully mutter, “He’s not coming.” Like dead canaries in this coal mine, which we could call a dying Garden of Eden, the extinctions may be warnings that it is time to come up out of the darkness because it is no longer safe down here.

A few years back Lee Strobel wrote a book called “The Case for Faith.” Even if you haven’t read it, you probably get a pretty good idea what it’s about from its title. A quick summary: the benefits of believing, the promise of everlasting life in Heaven, outweigh the benefits of not believing; one is assured freedom from punishment after death if one does believe, but the potential consequence of eternal damnation for not believing makes belief the best option. The book was a few hundred pages long, but left out the most negative consequence of what he was arguing for. He makes the case that we should have absolute faith in Jesus as Lord, and he argues that it makes sense, but when a faith based belief dictates the realities of life, we are automatically forced into a life of delusional reality; and it limits our abilities as a human race, to function in a rational way. If a fundamental piece of a persons’ reality is based on something that by its definition is not defendable by reason, and is therefore faith, then how can that person expect to live in a reasonable, honest, rational way or be depended on to make rational decisions? Is it any wonder that every President who has professed a belief in a religious God has been responsible for the deaths of innocent people? And hasn’t every leader who has categorically said that there is no God also been a killer, because Atheism is just as insane? How can a reasonable man say that there is no God, when he knows how small he is in the cosmos?

How can any of us say that God is or isn’t? This debate has gone on far too long and should not even be a debate anymore. Atheists say “there is no God,” and the believers retort: “There is a God,” and their idea of God is almost unfailingly the God of their chosen faith, or a faith in no faith. Does either of the groups have the information to make a rational argument that God does or does not exist? No. Are any of the specific religious stories the right one? Not likely. Is there an answer? Yes there is, and it’s called “shut up, we don’t know.”

As much as we may want to understand the totality of reality, the fact is that we are too small to ever totally comprehend the infinity from which we have emerged. There may be an ultimate intelligence which created us, a master plan for the universe, but it is time for us to allow it to be just another possibility. We can choose to have faith that we are connected to the universe, and to each other, or we can choose to believe in nothing, or we can choose to believe that we are the inventions of our own understanding, we can believe whatever we want, but we can’t call ourselves right. And we need to take the power away from people who think they are right, because they are insane.

Faith in God produces chemicals in our brains which we do not experience as non-believers, and belief is a good high. But the consequences of dogmatic beliefs in religion have gotten to the point that we really do need to check ourselves and stop dancing foolishly in church. It’s government sanctioned insanity, and it is affecting our decision making process and is therefore a terrible deterrent from reason and sanity.

This kind of believing creates ecstasy and euphoria, and people like George W. Bush. Religion is failing us because people are not as dumb as we seem, and our insane beliefs are driving us insane. Rome was insane, the United States is insane, and the religious Middle East is insane. People are insane all over the world, and we are acting like it. We don’t need spiritual leaders, we need spiritual people. The true teacher or spiritual person knows not the spiritual truth of anyone else but himself. If he teaches as if he knows the ultimate truth, he has already failed truth. Man is smaller than he has ever been because the Universe and universes that we are looking out into are bigger than they have ever been. And the farther we look out there, the farther it goes.

Are we looking for heaven in our spaceships? If we can’t get all the way out there, and we never will in these bodies, then how are we to comprehend what God is? We can experience God, and we can even call it God, or Allah, or whatever word you want, but we can no longer call ourselves reasonable if we believe in what any of those books offer as the true story of the reality of creation.

We must admit that we do not know, and never will know, even, most probably, after we die. Just like we have taken control over earth, water and wind to make electricity and power, engines which fly through the air, and wireless phones which can communicate across oceans, we can also take control over ourselves again, and start to come back to earth. It is our duty as the guardians of the planet. If we want the Garden of Eden, then we must create it here, and do our best to preserve it, till our day is done. We can trust in God if we choose, but we must begin to live by reason and sanity.

We can’t know what that white light means until we get all the way there. Considering the new information we now have at our disposal, the fact that we are a human species, that the decisions we make as nations and individuals have consequences far beyond what we used to think of as our sphere of influence. It is time for us to try what we have never tried before, at least not in our historical memory. It is time for us to open our minds. For whatever reason it seems we are the earths conscious born protectors and guardians, its angels. We have yet to find another consciousness out there like our own. We need to begin to acknowledge our power here. What we do does matter. In God We Trust is not working anymore. It is time for us to start taking responsibility for reality. We are the benefactors of our future generations, and it is truly up to us to decide what kind of future we are going to create here on earth. Do we want to create hell on earth? Or something else?


I wish there was a magic wand to wave to get us out of this mess we've created with the best of intentions. Human beings have been doing their best for a long time, and we've done good. Our progress has brought us together as a planet, and though there are negative consequences, our past, errors, glories and all, have brought us to this moment. We are trapped in our old ways of being and thinking, but we had to get to this point first. We cannot look into the past to find the answer. How we are going to fix things and avert disaster, I don't know, but until we can escape from the delusions of our past thinking and discover an open mind, there is little hope for a happy future for our species.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Depressing myself.

As always, there is something interesting to be found in the news. The stock market is recovering. Kenneth Foster is going to be put to death in Texas in a week for a murder he didn’t commit. He was sitting a hundred feet away in a car when his friend, who was put to death last year, committed the crime. Karl Rove has quit and the king rat could make off with a fortune if he gives up the dirt on the inner-goings of the team he put in power.

What perfect justice that would be, if Rove came back to bite Bush in the ass with a tell-all book. When you find someone who will get you elected President when you aren’t even equipped with enough intelligence to construct a sensible sentence, you shouldn’t trust that person to cover your back. Yet, if you weren’t so dumb that you needed them to run over all lawfulness to get you elected, you probably would have considered that.

The great lesson of the departure of Karl Rove is how inconsequential he has become. Who pulls the lunatic strings in Washington we may never know. If Bush has a brain, I don’t think Turd Blossom makes up even half of it. All I know is that high up on the list of items on Google News today is that our United States Government “may brand elite Iran guards terrorists.” Wow. This reminds me of a few years ago when we were watching the legitimization of preemptive war right here at home on every news channel.

The last few years have seen some magnificent new precedents set by this our faithfully dangerous government. We can begin with the Patriot Act, which allows the elimination of individual liberties which were given us by the authors of the Constitution. We can move on to the preemptive invasion of a sovereign country which had never attacked us. Here is the invasion of Iraq and the toppling of a regime there which has sent the country into a spiral of dysfunction and violence, and drawn radicals from around the world like magnets to a hatred of the USA and our American way.

Now we want to label another countries army a “terrorist group.” Here is a nice precedent to set just because we want an excuse to start bombing sites in Iran and sending Special Forces Units in to shoot up the place. The lighter side of the situation is that it might be the beginning of what will eventually force us to start behaving ourselves. What our great and imperial leaders consistently fail to consider is that we are a country as well, and our activities are becoming more and more blatantly terrorist in nature. “Shock and Awe,” for example, may not have been the best name for bombing the hell out of Baghdad. Shocking and awing is what terrorists do. It would have been just as appropriate a name for Al Qaeda’s attack on the World Trade Center in 2001, except we probably killed more people and did a whole lot more damage to Iraq’s biggest city than Al Qaeda did to ours.

At some point we have to consider the consequences of our actions. We act like we can do whatever we want. On CNN yesterday they asked the question: “what can be done to keep America from going the way of the Roman Empire?” Most of the answers that came in were in surprising agreement that we aren’t really number 1 anyway, and if we are, we aren’t doing much to help ourselves stay there. Most of the people who responded seemed quite dissatisfied with our Governments actions. But we the people are responsible for our Governments actions. Just like the people of Iraq paid a huge price for the fact that our President was obsessed with toppling the leader of their country, we may eventually be forced to pay for the consequences of our governments’ actions. When the bombs start going off in our streets we have to be ready to take responsibility for why. If we don’t care enough to stop our Country from doing wrong, then we are subject to the consequences.

Even though the United Nations is our little baby, we have to understand that at some point, if we keep acting like we’ve been acting, it is going be our army that is labeled “terrorist.” When a multi-national force comes to put a stop to United States war crimes, it’s going to be ugly. If we the people keep paying the bills and allowing our armies to do whatever they are told by a Government gone awry, we are complicit. When the bombs come home, we are going to regret not standing up for decency and righteousness in foreign policy. It’s time we look in the mirror and take a peak at the terrorist staring back at us.

Turd Blossom is walking away from the White House, the stock market has been hammered and is coming around, we are about to kill another innocent black man sitting wrongfully on death row, we are setting things up to attack another country in the Middle East. I’m heading to town for a cup of coffee, plus tax.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Animal Terrorism

The bugs are entering my house from somewhere, and it’s the middle of the night again. My pale white legs extend from my fancy underwear. Little pink pigs stand backwards with their curling tails standing out on the brown fabric. No. I’m not gay. There is a laughing cow on my turquoise t-shirt, and a health cocktail made me sick hours ago. I thought of the brown buffalo, and painted my own red picture on pale porcelain. Moths are attacking my paintings and I’m peaking out my windows like some paranoid speed freak. The police don’t concern me, and I’m mostly sober, but I’m looking for the bears.

I’ve double checked the locks on all the sliding glass doors, closed the windows, and locked the front door. I’ve learned that one can’t be too careful around here. Living by the river is grand, but the wildlife makes it a true adventure. Aspen is not cheap, but included in my extravagant rent is an adrenaline wonderland of furry invaders. I live alone, but every night new friends come and visit. I hear them outside, plotting their next break-in.

Just before I fell asleep tonight, I remembered I’d left the window in my office open. I hurried down the hall and shut it with gusto. A simple screen is no sort of barrier to a bear. Raccoons are smaller, but can still cleverly navigate a screen door with their greasy claws.

The first invasion of my now popular kitchen was executed by just such a beast almost two months ago. But this was no ordinary raccoon. I’ve named him Napoleon, and he left his mark upon my kitchen floor, as well as on a leather bound book of Spanish Flash Gordon comics. His fish oil paw print was all the evidence I needed to conclude that it was he who had gobbled the leftover salmon from next to my sink. There, astride that leather book, he proudly ate the finest fish off a greasy salmon skin, which he conspicuously left as if to say it wasn’t good enough for him. Then with gathered paw grease from that skin, he painted footprints on the 50 year old book. The intruder proceeded to knock over my trash can, leaping onto it off the counter like Indiana Jones. The noise of the falling trash can greeted me just as I opened the front door. I made a great deal of noise, startling the perpetrator who promptly abandoned the scene.

That was the beginning of the summer, a time of animal innocence and naivety. That was before everyone was talking about the bear problems, back when I left my sliding glass doors open and assumed the closed screen theory of safety. Napoleon had simply clawed into the screen and slid it open. Not being a total fool, I began closing my sliding glass doors after that. As an old Aspen kid, I never imagined that it would be necessary to lock them.

About a month later I was slumbering in my comfy bed, lost in dreams. Suddenly I was pulled from sleep by a loud crash in the kitchen. Remembering I was in this little mountain town, where people don’t rob people at 5:15 AM, I quickly realized there was a bear in my kitchen. I jumped up and started roaring at the top of my lungs. “I am the king of this house!!!” I spoke loudly, yelling into the space outside my bedroom, using not only every ounce of primal volume insanity that poured forth, but also English, and a parade of aggressive swearing. My feet were lifting off the ground, the adrenaline pumped me up to the size of savage gorilla, and I rushed into the hallway roaring. Thankfully, like Napolean the raccoon, this new perpetrator had retreated.

The doors of the refrigerator and freezer were wide open, and light shone from within, illuminating a huge pile of half-eaten food and trash all over the kitchen floor. The sliding glass door was open, proving the prowess of a motivated paw.

Like Napoleon, this invader left me with a keen impression of his personality. The coon was a snob and a vandal, who insulted me with his suggestion that my salmon skin wasn’t good enough for him to do anything but paint with. The bear on the other hand was not so unjustly picky. He came to eat, and eat he did, but with bearish delicacy. He did no damage to the sliding glass door on his way in, and he opened both the refrigerator and the freezer without doing even the slightest damage to them. I even had three ceramic vases sitting on top of the fridge, all three of which were still standing after the incident. I was also impressed by the bears’ healthy food choices. He ate lots of fruits and vegetables, and cleared me out of veggie burgers. He even took a few items as take out. After all my yelling, he must have strolled out on two feet with his hands full. Out on my deck I found a half eaten bag of carrots and an empty box of veggie burgers. I think this was one of Jerry’s bears. Mid-summer lesson: lock the sliding glass doors.

It’s been a pretty tight ship here ever since. Except for my kitchen and bedroom windows, both of which I regularly left open. They are both well off the ground, and the kitchen window is only about 15 inches in width. So the other evening when I walked into my dark house at 10:30 at night to the sound of a familiar crash in the kitchen, adrenaline came rushing through me along with the thought that like an idiot I must have left a sliding glass door unlocked. First I leapt into the air like a startled school girl, then began the roaring and yelling again, ran back outside, leapt in my car, drove into the yard, around the side of the house and shone my brights into the big windows in my living room, and honked my horn spastically until I noticed in the light of my high beams that all the sliding glass doors were shut. I didn’t see any big animals inside, and I began to wonder if it was indeed a person who had made the noise this time. I drove back around and entered my home ranting and raving. “Who’s there?” I yelled, along with some more roaring and screeching just in case I was dealing with a non-human species. Hearing nothing, I proceeded down the hallway. I turned on a light and entered my kitchen stealthily, clutching a broom. Again the trashcan was knocked over, but the fridge and freezer were closed. I turned on the kitchen light and viewed the mayhem. The small kitchen window screen had been pushed in. The various decorations in its path were strewn around the sink and on the floor.

Almost instantly I concluded that it was the work of the dreaded Napoleon. The malice indicated by the disrespectful placement of a picture of my deceased grandfather, which was lying face down on the kitchen floor amongst scattered trash, suggested the conniving raccoon and not the health conscious hippy bear. I closed the slightly broken window, cleaned up the trash, and prayed that the little bastard had escaped the way he came in and was not hiding out in my house. I pranced around loudly and heard no more evidence of the intruder, so I went to sleep.

When I woke the next day I went outside to find out what clever stool Napoleon had stood upon to reach my kitchen window. The window is four feet above the ground, too high for the sinister raccoon to reach without some assistance. There was nothing but the vertical wall of my house in either direction which that savage little warrior could have used in the break in. My nemesis raccoon was innocent this time.

A bear had squeezed its fat ass through my kitchen window. The claw marks in the wood beneath the window, far larger than even the largest raccoon could make, told me everything. I think it was a mother/cub team, and they may have been schooled by Napoleon himself. It could not have been a large bear who squeezed through that little window, but I believe that the small perpetrator had an accomplice on this job, and that accomplice may not even be the mastermind of operations. It’s time we face the reality of our situation.

The facts are clear enough in their suggestions. Raccoons and bears may be working together now. We must be vigilant. We may have to raise the Bearor Level to dark orange. I have Napoleons’ footprints. Like Michael Chertoff, our Secretary of Homeland Security, I have a gut feeling that the level of attacks is going to rise. If you can keep your minds off the imminent collapse of the Maroon Creek Bridge for long enough, I suggest you remember to close your windows and lock your doors.