The Scent of Pine Before Dying

Waking up as I did this morning with “Shake It Off” in my head, not the least irritated by it, I was forced to come to the conclusion that Taylor Swift is a carrier of Toxoplasma gondii, the bacteria in cat feces that makes mammals such as rodents and humans like cats more and thus become more susceptible to being eaten by them. Slowly but surely, the world will be infected, we will lose our fear, we will be devoured.

It all begins to make sense when you find out the actual real true factoid that Taylor Swift was raised on a Christmas Tree farm. Note also that she is blonde, attractive as only a Dark Crystal gelfling can be (in that way that Elijah Wood was good-looking for a hobbit), and at 5’10” is quite tall for a “girl.” Given the stated fact that she also contains bacteria that makes you like her and that somehow I can discern that she smells of pine through my computer monitor, and only one, perfectly cogent theory emerges: Swift is a wood elf of the genus Douglas Fir. Elves, you see, like their dark counterpart Orcs, are born from the trees of the forest they inhabit. Taylor Swift is a sentient Christmas Tree. It makes everything make sense, really.

We will be devoured.

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Beware All Those Angels with Their Wings Glued On

In a world where nothing White People do is cool and everything they take from other cultures turns to expensive but worthless dust, the only sane recourse was to cover oneself in the things one hated and watch them righteously rot to uncoolness upon you. Irony became currency. What you destroyed became an identity composed of negative space. What you wore was what you’d never wear. What you left untouched was what you truly loved, the names you left unspoken, that girl you’d never talk to, and critique was the sincerest form of flattery. To loathe something was to love it, and we loathed everything but ourselves. The Hipsters united. We come to gentrify the impure. To corrupt and dilute the sincerely weak things within ourselves, and leave behind a smouldering crater where White Culture once ubiquitized. In this, it would become a culture once more. Because ubiquity is invisibility, and nothing unseen can be cool.

A Reply to Yet Another Comment Arguing Science and Religions Are Contradictory Not Complementary

This idea that all religions behave the same and all need “faith” as an integral component set at opposition to facts is a fallacy based on the behavior of the Western religious and on fundamentalist politics around the world. Faith is about believing in the ultimate good of a philosophical journey, such as and including the quest for knowledge through the scientific method, and faith that things may be “known” indeed at all. Faith is not the opposite of facts; it is the bedrock of will upon which the concept of the fact is built. You have faith in your senses which are proven to lie, because without it you will not get to step 2. Religion is another way of thinking — in metaphor and abstract — about the 58th and the 99th step, far in advance, of what is above and below all levels of human awareness. You may not refute something by first reducing its definition so that it may fit in an easily refutable box. You may, with science, conclude that any and all literal interpretations of current dominant religious mythos are impossible. On that I concur.

Walking with a Crutch Is Limping

I think people are who they are, regardless of religion. I think this from experience. If they are kind, they’d be kind with or without god, and if they are bastards, they’d be bastards. The con of religion is in convincing the good people they’d be bastards if they didn’t believe, and the bastards that they’d be even worse. Then, you can get anyone to behave like a bastard on command, regardless of temperament, because they think they’re doing better.

Imagine how good a kind, loving devotee would be if she confronted that the people she helps are one day going to stop existing, and that we’re all we have? The empathy of it. Sometimes I contemplate it and it feels as though I am made entirely of tears.

(I can think of nothing more uniting, nothing more equalizing, than solitude. Think on a brother and sister, realizing their parents aren’t coming. It’s just them, now. Who will care better for either, the rest of their lives? No one. Thus we will only truly know we are brothers and sisters when we stop waiting for a parent to return.)

But does she know also that we are never truly extinguished, simply rearranged? That the universe remembers, and over an infinite timeline, even she may reconstitute in the heart of some faraway star, to unscatter and live this life again? How many times have we made these mistakes? How many will we make again? How many have we already avoided?

Dear Everyone

Dear everyone I’ve ever disliked or had a problem with or been really super mad at or hated in my 34 years on this planet: 

I just want you to know that I’m not angry anymore. Not that it should or does matter to you, but in case it does. In case you’re still holding a grudge only because you’re sure I am. In case you aren’t holding a grudge but are afraid to interact with me because you think I am. In case you’re interpreting my lack of presence at events as some sort of “message”: it’s not. I quite often just can’t show up to things. Sometimes it’s because I’m doing 8 other things and like most people, I tend to stay around the people I see most often rather than reaching out to old friends and acquaintances, especially people who may still dislike me.

Mostly it’s just because every so often — especially if I don’t know who’s going to be at a function or have an exact layout of what’s going to happen — I can’t get myself to leave the house at all. I huddle on a couch by myself and rewatch a show about people who don’t have social anxieties or who overcome them and have the same set of friends over 10 years or so. I try to get myself to stop thinking hateful thoughts about myself. I try to unwind the knot I am, so I can go out some other time. You know–just like you.

A Sunset Without a God

I commented this on a page I’m a part of, where some high-minded intellectuals were mocking one of those pictures where a Christian holds up a sign questioning atheism. In this cast, the question was: “How do you explain a sunset if there is no God?” On the surface, this seems like a stupid question… But really, only if you presume the person asking it is stupid because they dare question you. Here is a paraphrase of my comment + a reply to someone’s retort who was continuing to misapprehend it:

“This is what happens when people only use one side of their brain to view reality. I refer both to this woman’s question, which seems to fundamentally misunderstand what no God implies, and the responses, which seem to misunderstand just what question ‘God’ answers.

Her question does not imply she doesn’t know the earth revolves around the sun — it implies that without a God, there is no Reason for something so beautiful and perfect to exist. She just can’t comprehend why there would be a sunset if no one crafted it. And the idea that the Earth revolves around the Sun is not a Reason. It is the cause of an effect, but not a capital ‘R’ Reason.

In this context, Reason implies will & mind, and it’s the only way some people comprehend the things around them. It’s a reality filter, if you will, just like viewing the world as a causal chain also is. People like this woman cannot conceive of a thing without the will of something else to put it there. To live in a rudderless universe isn’t something they can wrap their brain around, and I will admit that I didn’t get just how beautiful the revelation of it could be. That all this is, and possibly ever was, and with cause, but without Reason, is not in fact terrifying, but beautiful.

I believe in both. The reconciliation of the opposites–the world is both conscious and vacant, depending entirely upon where one is standing and how one interprets the data. No religion is correct, and science, while correct, is not the complete picture, nor can it ever truly be. It can only address the how, not the why of things. Because why is an abstract question meant to be contemplated, not answered.

(Here is where a commenter retorted, saying science answers plenty of why’s such as why the sky is blue, etc.)

You’re not answering the same why. The scientist tells you why the paint is blue. Only Monet can tell you why his sky is blue.

This fundamental difference in what the question means is the source of the entire disagreement. You cannot answer a philosopher’s question with a fact. You simply cannot. The only answer to a philosopher’s question is more thought. An answer is where thought ceases. The problem comes from both religion and science trying to answer the unanswerable. The point of “God” as a concept is to continue thinking about the infinite and thus expand one’s mind. As the purpose of lifting weights is not to put them on a high surface, but to grow stronger. The point of science is to answer the answerable, know the knowable, and probe the infinite. There, the point is the journey, and to continue answering forever, where the former is to continue questioning.

You cannot answer a philosophical “Why?” but the point is, and the one they’ve forgotten or have been tricked into never knowing, is that they cannot, either, and that the answer was never the point of it all.”