Tag Archives: God

Satan Suspended Indefinitely For “Soul Bounties”; Cronos Named Interim Devil

On Wednesday, God suspended Satan indefinitely from his role as Devil for promising demons as much as 10,000 dollars for each soul they lured into temptation.  Satan’s two head assistants, a gargoyle named Thoth and former American President Ronald Reagan, received slightly lighter suspensions of up to 5000 years, but may be reinstated earlier if they successfully complete anger management classes.

While it was well within Satan’s purview to try to encourage poor behavior on the part of human beings, offering cash incentives for their souls was going a step to far.  Yesterday, the Lord released a statement highlighting examples of the many violations and stating that this sort of “encouragement towards lawlessness and immorality is outside of the bounds of what we call fair play.”

When confronted with this statement, Satan didn’t hesitate to fire back.  “Wait, so I’m getting scolded about morality by the guy was responsible for the extinction of nearly the entire populations of Sodom and Gomorrah.  This is the same God who, on a bet, let me destroy the life of one of his most committed servants, Job. You’ll excuse me; I have to go throw up,” sneered Satan as he spat upon the ground.

In Satan’s absence, Venom frontman Cronos has been named Interim Dark Lord until Satan’s reinstatement. Cronos is a veteran of the dark arts having served in Satan’s Army since 1981.  Cronos even had brief experience running Hell back in 1986 when Satan broke five of his legs in a terrible water skiing accident.

Cronos has many exciting new plans he has considered for Hell including an open mic night, the addition of all-you-can sin brothels and building a stadium in an attempt to lure the Buffalo Bills to Hell, giving the Underworld it’s first pro sports team since the 1976 Oakland Raiders.

Experts believe that Cronos is a good fit for the position and could bring untold glory to Hell.  However, many fans were disappointed when their first choice, former Giants and Jets coach Bill Parcells, turned the job down.  While Parcells was a flashier name, those around the game respect Cronos for his undying commitment to poisoning the human race with heavy metal and believe that he will be the perfect choice to get Hell back on track.


Dissecting CARCASS’ “Heartwork” – Fifth Incision…Embodiment

This is the fifth in a series of articles analyzing the lyrics from the 1993 Carcass album “Heartwork”.

Embodiment

I bow down your precious icon, deity of self-suppression

This effigy of flesh, corporeal christi, nailed

In submission to this false idol, seeking deliverance

From this spiritual hierarchy, downward spiraling, a corrupt throne

Of repression and guilt

Our will be done

Thy kingdom burn

On my knees, before this tormented flesh, in irreverence

In communion with this parasitic host of virtuous divinity

This imperious creed bears testament to the failures of our morality

Righteous durance is our cross we bear in stations

In stations of the lost

Our will be done

Thy kingdom burn – thy kingdom burn

Our will be done

From your knees arise

By your own hand, your god you scribe

The earth shall inherit the meek

Your god is dead

Bound down, in God we’re trussed, foul stature

Icons embodied in flesh, we nail

In servitude to deities fashioned in our self image

Shadows of eternal strife cast by those who serve

Serve a crown of pawns

If up until this point you weren’t sure how the band Carcass feels about religion, Embodiment states it completely and in no uncertain terms. The song is an outright renunciation of organized religion, Christianity in particular.  The lyrics bubble with hatred and scorn for the self-annihilating principles that they believe mark the Christian outlook.  I don’t share the disdain that the band feels for Christianity, but the force of the language used in their argument is highly compelling.

The song’s central argument is that Christianity is an advanced form of slavery.  They make the case by dismissing the existence of any fathomable God and assuming that the goals of religion are to allow those who are in power to continue an unfettered hegemony over the practice of free will.  Where some people see peace and comfort, Carcass perceives control and subjugation.  Certainly, some of their argument is legitimate.  There are plenty of historical examples of the misuse of religion to advance the selfish ends of a tyrannical elite.  However, the song fails to address much of the comfort and solace that it has brought people for over 2000 years.  Further, it would be facile minded to simply assume that the self-abnegation at the core of Christian thought is completely a bad thing.  The giving up of one’s desires to benefit the community is on many occasions, inside or outside of a religious context, beneficial towards the human race as a whole.

In spite of the problems the argument presents, the language with which the case is made is striking.  The core belief in the song is contained in the beautifully efficient and devastating pun “In God we’re trussed”.  By taking an expression found on American money and perverting its message, Carcass is able to make several critical points.  First, the use of a religious phrase in an economic context effectively links the agenda of today’s Christianity with the pursuit of financial gain.  Then, they take the phrase and change trust (an act of faith) into trussed (to be tightly bound or in this case completely controlled).   Essentially, they argue here that while you may choose to subvert your needs for the Church it will not extend you the same courtesy and, worse, it will take your belief and use it to hoodwink you into giving up your possessions and your liberty.  In their eyes, it is the greatest hustle in human history.

What is truly lost for believers is contained in the heart-wrenching expression “the earth shall inherit the meek.”  The original phrase “the meek shall inherit the earth” is an appeal to the Job-like masses that give so tirelessly but ask for little in return.  They suffer in silence, but at the end of the day, they will be rewarded…or so the story goes.  The good and humble people will come to control the earth and the wicked will be cast from it.  The subversion of this expression contains allows for a very troubling message to be presented.  If you suffer in silence and do the right thing your reward will be the grave.  Death awaits us all and those who are pious and righteous are rewarded with the same eternal darkness that await those who pillage the world blind.  There are no rewards in this life or any other for those who follow the words contained in the Bible.  The meek will be buried right alongside those who engage in a Dionysian life of personal excess and unabated greed.  The ground cannot tell the two apart.

If this argument is legitimate, it presents us with chilling questions about how we should live our lives that goes beyond religion.  If there are truly no consequences for our actions, why not do whatever we want?  Those with the most material, at the end of the day, are those who have benefitted most from a purely material world.  If all that is promised to us for a good life is an eventual death, what is the motivation in living a justly?

I believe that the truth or untruth of God’s existence need not bear on whether someone acts morally.  If every word of the Bible is true and God’s existence is exactly as portrayed in Christianity, we should act with as much kindness, patience and love to those around us as we are capable.  If every word of the Bible is false and Christianity is an unholy scam perpetrated by on the masses by ruthless power mongers, we should act with as much kindness, patience and love to those around us as we are capable.  The reward of living a just life is simply getting to live a just life.  That’s all.  The earth may inherit the meek, but at least the meek can lessen the suffering of those around them.  Nothing else is promised and nothing else is certain.  TS Eliot eloquently summarizes this principle in his poem “Choruses From The Rock”…..

All men are ready to invest their money

But most expect dividends

I say to you: Make perfect your will.

I say: take no thought of the harvest,

But only of proper sowing

It is our station to care for one another to the best of our abilities regardless what the truth of the universe is.  To love without condition is the greatest gift we could bestow on our world no matter what the terms of our existence are.  Any philosophy that brings us closer to that ability, be it religious or atheistic, is worthy of our respect and consideration.


Gods and Ends

Greek Mythology has always been a source of great fascination to me.  The Ancient Greeks had an uncanny way of explaining the random, capricious nature of life through their deities.  The gods were wild and erratic.  They could hand you a check for a million dollars one minute and throw you in a pit with a thousand rattlesnakes the next.  Imagine the entire Old Testament was The Book of Job and you have a decent sense of how things worked for The Greeks.

The gods seemed to be a great way to explain anything and everything.  At times, it can seem as if there were more gods then Greeks. Often, scholars spend their time focusing on the better-known gods like Zeus, Poseidon or Athena.  However, there are many fascinating stories of gods that were widely worshiped in their day, but have disappeared into the great dustbin of history.  Here are some great examples:

Arteriosclorities-The God of Deep Fried Foods

Beyond contributing democracy and many other key philosophical insights to our world, The Greeks are also the first society to deep-fry their foods.  From yak to Snickers bars (a delicacy first created by Aristotle), the Greeks would throw nearly anything into a bubbling cauldron of oil.  It is no wonder that the Greeks are believed to be the progenitors of Western medicine.  Most Greeks weighed upwards of 300 pounds and were barely able to run.  This fact tends to throw their achievements during the Olympic games into a whole different light.

Supposedly, Arteriosclorities was one of Zeus’ many sons from an affair with Eris, the goddess of strife and discord.  In order to hide this affair from his wife Hera after the child was born, Zeus placed Arteriosclorities into the stomach of Dionysus while he was sleeping off a wild night of overeating and general debauchery.  Dionysus awoke with a terrible feeling of discomfort and collapsed.  Zeus, not meaning to have harmed Dionysus, sent Indigestius, the Greek god of stomach acid and ulcers, into his stomach to destroy Arteriosclorities.  The two had a great battle, which was won by Indigestius.  Dionysus finally awoke with terrible stomach pains that could only be allayed by eating massive amounts of antacids.

McKuenius-The God of Bad Poetry and Greeting Cards

The Greeks are known for creating some of the most poignant and moving poetry in human history.  But, for every Homer, there were 1,000 less talented hacks trying to write their own Iliad.  Many of these no talent writers ended up working for the Hallmark Corporation, which was founded in 654 B.C., with the mission of sending sappy, dull poetry to people on important days of their lives.  Their patron saint is the god McKuenius.

McKuenius was known for writing terribly boring, pointless poetry and asking Hermes to deliver it.  Hermes, the busy messenger god, was forced to deliver idiotic compositions like “Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, You are a Goddess and Athena is too” to Aphrodite or “Poseidon likes water, Demeter is his sister, She gave birth to his daughter,” to the god of the sea. After growing tired of having to read this drivel, Hermes begged Zeus to punish McKuenius in order to make him stop writing.  First, Zeus sentenced him to one hundred years of writing dirty limericks on bathroom stalls.  However, Zeus quickly discovered that he was enjoying his job.  Zeus realized he was a lost cause and sent him to pits of Tartarus and made him write a detailed description of Sisyphus rolling a rock up the hill for eternity.  He is still there today, happily describing suffering and misery in a pithy, gleeful, and highly moronic way.

Aggasius-The God Of Male Pattern Baldness

The gods seemed to all have some sort of fatal flaw.  Be it rage, greed, avarice or just plain old insanity, they all seemed to have something locked into their character that made them both all-powerful and amazingly vulnerable.  One of the earliest examples of this is Aggasius, the god of male pattern baldness.  Aggusius was one of the original Titan gods who were overthrown by Zeus and The Olympian gods at 4:22 PM on February 12th 3212 B.C.  Aggasius was capable of creating tornadoes, causing earthquakes and smiting entire nations with a wave of his staff.   However, he was unable to grow hair on the top of his head.  The tragic irony of Agassius was that he could grow massive amounts on his back, his ears and even on his shoulders like Sonny Corleone in the first Godfather film.  He tried several potions created by Greek pharmaceutical manufacturers, a terribly made hairpiece created from the beard of Hyperion, and even tried to rubbing pomegranate seeds on his head three times a day, nothing seemed to work.  In spite of his great power, the other gods laughed at “The Bald One” whenever his back was turned.  Eventually, he grew tired of the mockery, quit being a god and moved to a suburb of Stillwater, Oklahoma, where he still lives today working as a successful middle manager at a meat packing company.


Even A Blind Watchmaker Can Find A Nut

Vladimir:  So….you take a watch and you put it in a bag….

Estragon:  What type of bag?

Vladimir:  It doesn’t matter.

Estragon:  Well, what type of watch is it?

Vladimir: Again…not important.  You put the watch in a bag.  Now, you take a hammer and you smash it.

Estragon:  Wait…What?

Vladimir:  Just see if you can follow me here.  You smash the watch into a hundred pieces….

Estragon:  Is it a digital watch or a nice one?

Vladimir:  It doesn’t matter….You take the watch and you smash it into….

Estragon:  Well, why are you smashing the watch?

Vladimir:  Okay, that’s really not important!  The important thing is…

Estragon:  What kind of lunatic would break a perfectly good watch?

Vladimir:  It’s a metaphor.  Nobody is really breaking a watch with a hammer.  The idea is to prove a point.

Estragon:  But how can you prove a point using an example that is completely unrealistic.

Vladimir:  I don’t know.  It’s not important!  Just listen.

Estragon:  Well, if it is a digital watch with one of those plastic bands it’s not going to break with a hammer

Vladimir:  Fine.  It’s a Rolex.  A really nice gold Rolex.

Estragon:  A Rolex is really expensive.  Why would you want to break an expensive watch?  And I don’t know if a hammer will break a Rolex into a hundred pieces.

Vladimir:  Fine.  It is an inexpensive magical watch that magically will break into a hundred pieces.  Can I get back to my point?

Estragon:  Sure.

Vladimir:  Okay, so you break the watch.  You shake it up in the bag?

Estragon:  Uh-huh.

Vladimir:  Does it re-form into the same watch?

Estragon:  Well, of course not!

Vladimir:  SEE!!!!!

Estragon:  See what?  I’m not sure I follow.

Vladimir:  Evolution is impossible.

Estragon:  Wait…What?!?!?

Vladimir:  Something has to be there to assemble the watch if it’s going to come back together, right?

Estragon:  I guess.

Vladimir:  And the watch has been reassembled into a perfect whole, right?

Estragon:  That is what you said.

Vladimir:  Well, then there has to be a watchmaker who has a plan, right?

Estragon:  Uhmmm.  Okay.  So, who is the watchmaker?

Vladimir:  GOD!

Estragon:  Wait….WHAT?!?!?!

Vladimir:  God is the watchmaker!  Otherwise the watch would still be in pieces.

Estragon:  Wait…so God reassembled the watch?

Vladimir:  YES!

Estragon:  Why?

Vladimir:  What do you mean why?  He’s God.  He doesn’t need a good reason.

Estragon:  So, God just goes around putting broken watches together?  We’re not sure why.  That’s just what he does.

Vladimir:  Exactly.  He loves us.  Maybe he wants us to have a nice watch.  Maybe he wants us to be happy.  That’s for Him to know.

Estragon:  If he wanted us to be happy, why didn’t he just stop us from breaking the watch in the first place?

Vladimir:  Free will!

Estragon:  So, wait, he loves us so much he is willing to fix the watch, but he won’t stop us from breaking it?

Vladimir:  Exactly!

Estragon:  That’s not a very efficient system.

Vladimir:  Well, He doesn’t have to be efficient.  He’s God.  He doesn’t have to explain anything.

Estragon:  Well, if he’s going to go around smashing watches, I think he owes somebody an explanation.  That’s pretty rude.  If he smashed my watch I’d be really angry!

Vladimir:  Okay…forget the watch.  We’ll use another example.  Pick something.

Estragon:  A piece of ham

Vladimir:  So, you put a piece of ham in a bag…

Estragon:  Ham….in a bag?

Vladimir:  Yes!  And you smash it into a million pieces.

Estragon:  Uh-huh

Vladimir:  It still tastes like ham and smells like ham and looks like ham.  RIGHT?!?!?

Estragon:  Yes…I think.

Vladimir:  So there has to be some kind of ham designer, right?

Estragon:  Yes…well….maybe…I guess….

Vladimir:  Evolution couldn’t have designed ham.

Estragon:  Wait…why not?

Vladimir:  Because it is perfect.

Estragon:  What is perfect?

Vladimir:  Ham!  Ham is perfect!

Estragon:  Compared to what?

Vladimir:  To a universe without ham.

Estragon:  How can you tell?

Vladimir:  God wouldn’t have created it if it weren’t perfect.  Ham is in our universe.  Therefore, ham is perfect.

Estragon:  Okay, now I’m really confused.  If God is perfect and created a world that is the most perfect possible world for us, why does he create people who smash ham and watches in bags?

Vladimir:  To test us.

Estragon:  Why?

Vladimir:  To see how much we love him.

Estragon:  Oh…so we show him we love him by not smashing things in bags?

Vladimir:  Yes!

Estragon:  I see.  So that’s the point of the whole thing!

Vladimir:  YES!  That’s the point.  We have the choice whether to smash ham or watches or even possums in bags.  If we choose not to, we do it because we love God.  And if we do that we will be rewarded.

Estragon:  With a nice watch?

Vladimir:  Maybe with a watch.  Maybe with eternal happiness.  We’re not exactly sure.  We just know that the reward is going to be REALLY good.

Estragon:  And if we smash things in bags?

Vladimir:  Then bad things happen to us.  REALLY bad things.  Things like sickness or eternal suffering or boils on our face.

Estragon:  Boils on our face?!?!?!

Vladimir:  It won’t be a problem for you if you just do what you are supposed to.

Estragon:  So these are the rules?

Vladimir:  Yes.

Estragon:  And if I follow them, I’ll be…………happy???

Vladimir:  Unless God has another plan for you.  But eventually you’ll be happy.  At some point.

Estragon:  Will I get a watch?

Vladimir:  If that is what you desire and that is God’s plan and you follow the rules then, yes, you will get a watch.

(At this exact moment, a giant meteor hits the earth obliterating smashing it into a million pieces.  The entire human race, including Estragon and Vladimir, are destroyed in a firey, horrible instant without warning)


The Evangelical Church of Jordan

Jordan Ascends

The Year is 2223.  Reverend Scott E. Pippen the 29th stands in front of his congregation of 24,000 with his arms raised high in the air.  He is a tall man, about 6 feet 8.  He is wearing a gown with the number 23 embroidered on the front in gold.  He is up on a stage with a golden basketball hoop mounted behind him.  A hush falls over the capacity crowd.

 “Today, I’d like to talk to you about greatness.  Many religions have valued different things over the years.  Some of the religions praised self-restraint, while others loved commitment and dedication.  These qualities can be very good things, but their followers seemed to miss the bigger point.  Trying really hard is not enough.  In order to truly be worthy of God’s love you must win!”

“AMEN!!!!”  screams a parishioner.

The people of olden times used to worship martyrs!  Do you believe it?  They would cast their lot with people who tried really hard….but lost!  Those martyrs were great men, but they couldn’t figure out how to triumph over evil.  Sure, they would say that some of their martyrs rose from the dead, but many people had trouble believing that part.  There wasn’t enough proof.  Maybe they were successful, but they weren’t able to pull it off on the big stage!  I mean, most messiahs wouldn’t make it in the NBA as a 12th man for the New Jersey Nets.  For years, we could only choose between this losing messiah, that losing messiah or sometimes a messiah that hadn’t even shown up yet!  Can you believe it people?”

“NO!!!!!”  shouted the crowd wildly.

 “Thankfully, on February 17th, 1963, that holiest of days, Michael Jordan was born in a barn in Brooklyn, New York.  As a child, Jordan was a good player, but certainly not the messiah we know him as today.  Everyone by now has heard the story of how he was cut from his High School basketball team.  This was the first in a series of setbacks for His Airness, but each time he was given an obstacle, he learned how to climb over it and most importantly HOW…..TO…….WIN!!!!!!

The crowd bursts into thunderous applause.

When Georgetown tried to slow him down in the 1982 NCAA Final…HE WON!  When the Pistons and Celtics stopped him early in his career he came back and….HE WON!!!!  When the Knicks attacked and beat him game after game he rose up and….HE WON!!!!!!  When Jordan retired for the third time, after his sixth NBA title everyone thought that was finished.  Then, as a 60 year old man, Jordan returned to the NBA and led the Chicago Bulls to four more titles.  Age tried to beat him down but…..HE WON!!!!!”

“JUST DO IT!!!!”  screams the crowd.

“Those old-fashioned religions used to talk about an afterlife.  They were preaching the gospel of weakness.  Today, we know that the dead are just quitters!  When Jordan turned 100 he proclaimed that he would never die.  He went up to his basketball court built on the side of the greatest mountaintop and that is where he is still today.  No one has talked to him in years, but he has promised that one day he will not only return to us, but return to the NBA.  One day, when you go to your weekend sports temple to show your commitment to God and your home team he will emerge from the tunnel and HE…..WILL……PLAY………….AGAIN!!!!!!!!”

“YES!!!!!”    “JUST DO IT!!!!!!”   “AMEN!!!!!!”

 “Those old fashioned religions told you that God loved everyone.  Jordan taught us that they were wrong!  The truth is that GOD LOVES A WINNER!  You prove your devotion to him not by being beaten down by the opponent but though VICTORY!  God has no time for losers.  He will not give you a trophy just for competing.  He has no time for lesser men.  He is not going to hold your hand and tell you it is okay to fail.  God values results!  The simple truth is that God Hates Losers!!!!”

“PREACH IT!!!!”  JUST DO IT!!!!”

 “Jordan came to save us all from the pain and humiliation of losing.  Whenever there is someone buying a pair of His Sneakers….HE’LL BE THERE!  Whenever there is a team the overcomes the evil of losing….HE’LL BE THERE!  And when we buy His shoes and praise His name and WHEN WE WIN……….HE’LL………BE……….THERE…..……TOOOOOO!”

The crowd erupts into a screaming, howling frenzy.

“And now I present to you the top ranked choir in the entire world….The beautiful and talented Jordan-Airs!!!!!!

The choir begins to sing and basketball players in different throwback Jordan uniforms dunk golden basketballs into the hoop above the stage…

“To The Temple of Jordan Our Savior Went One Day,
And We Read That Phil The Baptist Met Him There,
And When Jordan Scored 60 in the Finals Versus Philly
The Mighty Power of God Filled The Air.

I’m On My Way
To The Temple of Jordan
Were Going To Win
At The Temple of Jordan
And Victory Will Cleanse My Soul”


Dumb Metal Rumors and The People Who Love Them

Metalheads, as a lot, tend to be some the most cynical people on the planet, but we are often willing to believe some amazingly suspect information. Get a roomful of bangers together and most of them will agree that the government, in league with a group of rancorous aliens who crashed in New Mexico, are conspiring to enslave the human race and force us to listen to Black Eyed Peas records until our ears bleed.  What can be said of a group that seems to have a universal distrust Christianity but believe strongly in the existence of Satan?  We tend to be suspicious of any sort of authority structure, but have complete faith in strangers who happen to arrange a series of musical notes in a way that makes us want to run into each other screaming “KILL!!!!”.  In short, we are a group that is susceptible to getting caught up in some bizarre rumors.

Over the years there have been a some I particularly enjoyed.  Here are a few of them…

Paging Dr. Goregrind


The story goes something like this…A bunch of frustrated med students dropped out of college moments away from becoming doctors.  They took their wealth of medical training and used it to write a series of revolting metal albums in the late 80s and early 90s.  These albums, which featured songs with catchy titles like “Swarming Vulgar Mass of Infected Virulency” and “Cadaveric Incubator of Endoparasites”, must have been penned by people with an acute understanding of human anatomy, the type of understanding that could only be gained by hours of study at a medical college.  It’s a great story and it actually makes some sense but it is completely untrue.  Carcass are, in fact, brilliant musicians with highly overdeveloped vocabularies and no medical training whatsoever.  This didn’t stop a friend of mine, years back, from sending a letter to the band offering to allow them to remove his spleen onstage.

 

Malevolent Obfuscation

The saga of Phil Fasciana, guitarist from the band Malevolent Creation, and his heroic killing of a “80-pound homeless crackhead” Kwik E Mart robber gripped the metal world back in 2009.  Apparently, Phil stumbled in looking to buy some chocolate milk and was shot at by the thief.  In a scene that seems right out of a bad Don “The Dragon” Wilson action flick (because it probably was), Phil tackled the bad guy and wrestled his gun away.  But this cagey crackhead reached for his hideout piece located, in of all places, his sock.  Phil was forced to fire on the guy and kill him.  There were more holes in the story than in the USS Bismarck.  The poor, desperate homeless guy with enough money for two guns.  The lack of a murder weapon, a dead body or a witness.  Days afterwards, the police confirmed the story was complete nonsense.  This didn’t stop a good number of metalheads, myself in particular, from running wild with this fable.

The Parable of The Cave

Wolves in the Throne Room are just your average Rudolph Steiner reading, eco-anarchist black metal band.  Over the years, they have rightfully gained a reputation for being somewhat eclectic.  This, however, does not mean they live in a cave.  Nearly every description I heard about the band went like this “They sound like ____________________ and they remind me of ______________________ and, get this, they live in a cave.”  In fairness, they do look like they live in a cave, but so do 2/3rds of the metalheads under the age of 25.  They live on an organic farm. There are clear structural differences between a cave and a farm that I shouldn’t have to explain.

Dead…Again?


Death rumors are a favorite among metalheads.  Back in 2005, Type O Negative pulled off the ultimate hoax when they convinced the world that singer Peter Steele had died.  This became quite confusing when Steele actually died last year.  Was he really dead this time?  Would he rise on the second day as some sort of ironic, Easter-themed publicity stunt?  The last album was named Dead Again for gosh sakes!  And Rasputin was on the cover.  That zany Russian died something like 28 times and kept coming back! This had to be some sick joke.  Unfortunately, it was not and Steele has not risen…yet.

The 2005 Steele death was the most convincing death rumor I have heard, but far from the first.  I’ll never forget spending an embarrassing evening back in 1993 mourning Pantera singer Phil Anselmo’s untimely death.  The word was he had dove off of the stage and the crowd had parted, unwilling to take seriously their responsibilities as members of the metal community, allowing Phil to slam into the floor. His neck broke and he was pronounced dead in the pit.  The injustice!  I remember mournfully looking at the sky and shouting “I would have caught you, Phil!  I would have caught you!”


We Are Bones, We Are Dust

This thing that I think that I am, sometimes, I am not.  Looking at an X-Ray of my right foot has twisted my mind into knots for the past few weeks.  It’s not that they found anything that disturbing. My doctor discovered a bone spur, which I was pretty sure that I had.  No surprise there.  I am having surgery tomorrow.  Again, not a surprise.  The thing that got in my head was the X-ray itself.  If I am what’s in that picture…what am i?

There was this picture of the bones in my foot staring at me.  The doctor was pointing to things and saying a bunch of words, but I was transfixed on the picture.  There I am?  There I AM!  There I am?!?!?!?  This picture is of the inside of me.  Underneath all of this skin and blood are a set of bones. These bones have been with me all of my life.  They were at my high school graduation, they were there when I got married, they attended the births of my two beautiful children, they have seen me laugh, they have seen me cry, they have been there when I thought I was alone.  I couldn’t process it. These bones are actually me!

The me that I think I am is the thing that experiences the world consciously.  I am aware of feelings and ideas.  I make plans and I remember experiences.  I see, I smell, I touch, I taste, I hear.  I have no problem associating these things with me.  Then, there are these bones. They are in me, they are part of me, but I can’t believe that they are me. This picture wasn’t some random x-ray they keep in the back and show everybody.  These were my bones!  Seeing them really sucked the magic out of everything.  I tend to think of myself as more than the sum of my parts, but maybe I am nothing more than my parts. Maybe, I am just bones and skin and blood with a few organs floating around.

There are parts of myself I have never seen.  I don’t know what my hip bone looks like.  I don’t know what my liver looks like.  My heart, my brain, my lungs…all highly valuable parts, but I couldn’t tell mine from my neighbors.  The me that I know seems so special, so unique.  My memories seem so important, as if they are part of some great mystery that I have a lifetime to solve.  My thoughts, my ideas, my identity all seem to be pieces in the great “who am I?” puzzle.  They all conspire to make me believe that I am an enigmatic character whose mythology is terribly important.  And then, there is this picture of the inside of my foot.  It is not special.  It is not unique.  It is simply mineralized osseous tissue housed in a pile of skin that is called “foot”.  There are somewhere in the range of 14 billion of them and they all pretty much look and act the same.  Sure, there are minor subtleties and nuances, but for the most part, what is the difference?

My foot does not find itself unique.  It pushes against surfaces over and over throughout a day.  It works, it rests.  It does not feel loneliness or claustrophobia if it is trapped in a shoe for too long.  It does not become jealous that I am favoring my other foot.  It does not make plans to meet with my spleen for coffee.  It does not become romantically involved with my esophagus.  It does not ponder the mysteries of the universe and wonder what will happen to it when it dies.  It is material and material has no time for enchantment.  It simply is.  When it ceases to work, it will waste away along with the rest of this thing that is me.

There is a part of me that cannot imagine that this is possible.  There must be something else, there must be something more.  I am more than that picture.  I am not just bones.  I am not just flesh.  I am something mystical.  I am more than those parts.  I am more than words on a page saying “healthy, well-developed 35 year old male suffering from Hallux rigidus“. Right?  Right?!?!?!

Maybe this identity of mine that I find so fascinating is just a bunch of electrical impulses.  Maybe we are just piles of material walking around among other piles of material, thinking that thoughts and memories and ideas make us more.  These self-important piles of material spend much of their time avoiding damage so that they can one day be part of creating new piles of material.  And on and on with no direction, no meaning and no end.  Thousands of them are created each day and thousands disintegrate. It does not matter…it is only matter.


The Politics of Sneezing

I sneeze and people feel obligated to reply.  The more you think about that, the weirder it is.  You are on an elevator with ten complete strangers, you sneeze and all ten race to beat each other to say “God Bless You”.  You are on a subway, it is 3 o’clock in the morning and you are surrounded by several odd looking strangers who look like extras from The Warriors.  They are taking turns leering at you with a detached sense of malice.  You sneeze.  A cacophonous chorus of disinterested voices mumble something that sounds remotely like “GesundheitGoblessyou”.

This pervasive but odd little social custom seems to insert itself everywhere without regard to circumstance.  There are plenty of bizarre customs out there, but this one seems thoroughly inescapable.  I have allergies and live in Atlanta, which means I spend a good portion of the spring testing the politeness of strangers.  A sneeze never fails to draw some sort of reply.  No one knows particularly why we do this.  There are several old stories handed down about it.  One story says that it was created during the Black Plague to ward off the spread of the virus.  Another story claims that the custom began over the fear that the heart might stop during a sneeze.   Yet another tale claims that it was a way of forcing the soul to return to the body after a sneeze.

Most of these stories are meant to explain the “God Bless You”, but there is less explanation for the “Gesundheit”.  Why would a room full of non-German speaking Americans suddenly nearly crawl over one another to shout a German expression at someone who has just fired a blitzkrieg of germs at them?  Politeness?….really?!?!?!  Occasionally when one sneezes they are given a “hatchoo” by someone near them.  Why on earth would someone imitate the sneezer?  I find this response to be quite demeaning.  To get how strange this is, imagine if a person burped and was greeted with a choir of fake burps in response?

I have only experienced this sort of weirdness in America, but apparently it is popular around the world.  Most cultures have some word that means “to your health” that is thrown at the offending germ cannon.  The oddest sneeze response I’ve come across are the Mongolians who say something that sounds like “burkhan urshoo”.  This translates to “May God forgive you”.  Not knowing much about the Mongolian culture, this leads me to believe that sneezing is serious business over there.  It must be some sort of crime or something.  God would be quite busy if he or she had to spend the better half of eternity forgiving sneezers.  In Iceland, they say something that translates into “May God help you!”  This sounds like a threat that is better suited to someone stealing your pet llama.  The Tamil language has a word that translates to “may you live for one hundred years”.  The sentiment of this is quite lovely, but the actual math becomes severely problematic.  If I were to sneeze five times a day for one year I would have added 182,500 years to my life.  Imagine the effects on the economy in many Southern Asian nations if they had to deal with taking care of scores of 2 million year old allergy sufferers?

No one particularly knows why we do it, but if your curious to see whether this custom is alive and breathing today, try sneezing in front of a room full of strangers.  If you cough, people barely notice.  If you blow your nose, most people simply go about their business.  Sneeze and the world stands up and takes interest.


None of The Above

The presumption that we can understand the universe seems to be the single most absurd belief that human beings have formulated.  Part of the problem with the question seems to hinge on how the word “understand” is interpreted.  For the purposes of this article I will be using the word in a similar way that Robert Heinlein uses the word “grok” in his book Stranger in a Strange Land.  To grok something is to comprehend something with all of one’s being.  I can understand that human beings have 10 fingers, but I grok what it means to have and be able to use those fingers myself.  They are a part of me and I know them to be incontrovertibly true.  I understand my fingers in a pre-verbal, visceral way that can’t and doesn’t need to be explained.  When someone watches a game of basketball they may understand that the goal is to put the ball in the hoop or that they have to dribble when moving or the fact that there are two sets of five different players on the court, etc.  If you asked a person who knew this whether they understand the game, they would probably say “yes”.  However, they certainly do not grok the game in its fullness.  They do not know what its like to make an impossible shot or look up at an official for a brief second with the anticipation of a charge or blocking foul or to dive on the floor for a loose ball or any of the millions of possible experiences that could exist in a basketball game.  They may hear the words but they don’t feel the music.

This problem of “understanding” relates to how our culture and many others tend to interpret the EVERYTHING.  Often, humans are given two choices as if they reflected the only possible paths to groking the EVERYTHING in its fullness.  We get a choice of science/reason/rational thinking or faith/spirituality/belief.  I find neither of these answers to be helpful.  Science has brought us many creations and understandings over the years.  Scientists have given language to experiences like gravity. This language has allowed us to change how we perceive life.  Without these understandings, many of the wonderful things that exist in our world (everything from flight to the internet) would not exist. Reason has brought us to heights never dreamed of by our forefathers.  It has also brought us terrors never before imagined (germ warfare, nuclear annihilation).  For my purposes, neither of these points is relevant to the question.  Science has brought us to a place where we never believed we could be and the power of its creation has made us think that its potential for discovery is as infinite.  I believe that science has limits.  Heinlein gets the limits of science perfectly when Valentine Michael Smith (the protagonist in Stranger in a Strange Land) asks “How can you grok a desert by counting its grains of sand?”  Science can create marvelous tools to manage parts of the physical world, but to grok it in its fullness there seems to be a need for something more.  The explanation that love or joy or sorrow are nothing more than a few synapses firing in different directions seems woefully inadequate to explain us, let alone the interplay of billions of sentient creatures.  There must be more.

But is that “something more” a belief in something beyond our understanding (a higher power?).  Many people believe that God is an all-powerful; omniscient being that controls the universe.  But if God is all-powerful and omniscient how could flawed, miniscule beings ever expect to understand anything about this God?  How can we possibly grok something that is admittedly beyond our understanding?  The idea itself seems bizarre.  People often chalk up experiences to being “part of God’s great plan”.  But, if we don’t completely understand what God’s plan for us is how can we possibly understand that an action is part of the plan?  Why do those of faith assume that there is a greater reason for the things they do not understand?  Maybe there is and maybe they are right but how would they know?  We are given a scant few highly conflicting religious texts.  Can it really be assumed that everything a person needs to know about the universe can be summed up in the Bible or another religious text?  Many people believe this.  I think the mistake in this is to assume that this thing can be understood using a book.  One book, millions of books, cannot sum the EVERYTHING up.  It is still greater than the whole of human knowledge, let alone the contents of one book.  Belief often seems to function as a great off switch in the mind.  We see something so beautiful or horrible or absurd that the mind says “Uncle!” and we give ourselves over to a belief that there must be some meaning to it that we are missing.  But, how do we know that anything actually has a meaning?  We can hope, we can wish, we can pray, but we can never know. We just chalk it up to an act of God or the workings of spirits that we can never conclusively prove to anyone including ourselves.

What troubles me about faith is not its deferment to a higher power but its willingness to concede truths to those who have come before or us or to books written before our time.  Sometimes I wonder if the worship of God is merely the worship of the past.  Maybe we are just harkening back to an illusory time where a more pious people than ourselves who knew more than us were able to connect with some great force in the sky and reveal its truths.  Some religious folks look back to Moses or Jesus or Mohammad or a cast of many other characters and assume that they knew enough not only to understand their world but also to understand ours.  I have a hard time believing that any person can possibly understand the world they are thrust into.  The thought that a person who walked the earth 2000 years ago can not only understand his world but also understand mine seems highly unlikely.  What if they are right?  It doesn’t really matter because I can NEVER know for certain.

The “central” question faced by human beings is not spiritual or scientific but epistemological.  How can we ever really know what we know or that we even know it?  We are given limited and barbaric tools, our senses, in which to meet the world.  These senses are easily fooled and can be manipulated by inside or outside forces.  Yet I can’t even say for certain that anything is an illusion.  If I spent a hundred lifetimes, I don’t know if I could grok in fullness the experiences that take place in one moment in one American town.  And yet, somehow, humans feel it possible to understand the wholeness of everything.  Science and religion fail to give the correct answer because they are asking the wrong question.  The question is often posed as “How can we understand the universe?”  (….and we get to choose between spirit and reason or some hybrid of both).  The question should be “Can we understand the universe?”  I simply don’t know that we are capable of this understanding.  If we are capable of this feat of comprehension I don’t know that we can ever, for certain, know that we are capable of it.   How would we know?  What is our point of reference?    How would we ever no for sure that our beliefs are not based on illusions or misinterpretations?    We don’t know for certain and, yet, so many of our institutions, be they religious or secular, function on the belief that we know for certain how things are going to work out if we take certain actions or do things a special way.  This belief pervades our churches, our hospitals, our schools and our homes.   Our value judgments, our morality and our understandings are constantly shaded with the haughty taint of false understanding.  Really, we know next to nothing.  Maybe the only thing it is possible for us to completely understand about the universe is that we don’t understand the universe.


How Could Hell Be Any Worse?

From a distance, it really looks like Cleveland

Lately, I have found myself more and more interested in the Christian idea of hell. Maybe it’s the awful chill of winter.  Maybe I’ve been listening to a bit too much black metal.  I’m not quite clear what has put me on this mental course, but I have spent a good amount of time thinking about what it would actually be like to be in hell.  I don’t even really believe that hell exists.  I am not completely against the idea, but I accept that I have no way of possibly proving its existence or non-existence to myself, so I just figure I’ll find out after I die.  That is not the part that really interests me.  What I want to know is what, assuming that hell is real, would torment a human for eternity.

In the Book of Matthew, we are warned to “be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”  To be honest, I find this quote a bit odd.  This implies that we take our body with us to hell.  If this is true, one must wonder what that thing in the casket back there on earth is.  Is that a wax replica of us at the funeral while the real body goes to hell?  Is your body snatched out of the coffin and sent to hell the minute you enter the ground?  (But then, what happens if they dig you up?) Does God duplicate our body and send that one to hell while the real one is on earth?  Is the body I am currently in an illusion and my real body somewhere in the ethers waiting for judgment?  In that case, can I blame the illusion body for the sins committed on earth?  After all, the earth body did the things I am getting sent to hell for.  As the eloquent, renowned philosopher Silkk The Shocker once said, “It ain’t my fault!!!”

If it is just your soul in hell, that opens up another can of worms.  I can specifically tell you that the conditions of hell would be awful on my body, but I can’t predict what extreme heat would do to my soul.  No part of the Bible mentions the soul having nerves, so why should we expect that it would feel pain in the way the body does?  If it is physical, it is capable of feeling physical pain, but I have not often heard the soul described as a physical thing.  It is usually thought to be a spiritual entity independent of the flesh.  Most descriptions of the soul are of the ghost in the machine variety, where the soul is a non-physical being that steers our body around then hops out when the body is no longer sentient.

In order to move forward with this line of questioning, I’ll pick the most likely scenario, which is that the soul just recreates your body once you get to hell.  There is no reference to this happening in the Bible, but this explanation gets my body in hell, which for the purposes of this argument, is where I want it.  Then, we run into another problem.  Revelation says that you shall be tormented “forever and ever”.  If hell is supposed to be eternal, how can the body and soul be destroyed?  I mean, once you are destroyed isn’t that it for you?  If the torment of hell is supposed to be eternal, how can it be that you are destroyed?  Revelation refers to hell as “a second death“, but what happens after the second time you die.  Do you continue to go to new hell after new hell?  Do you die and wake up again?

Let’s assume that my body and soul are now in hell which is described in the book of Revelation as being “the lake of fire and brimstone”.  I think that would be really terrible…for a while.  The thought of an extended amount of time in extreme heat is an awful thought.  20, 30 years would be gruesomely terrible.  100, 200 years would be worse.  But, after some point, wouldn’t I just get used to it?  I mean, the thought of eternal fire is terrible, but eternity is a long time.  My immediate reaction would be a period of unbridled misery.  But, after a while, wouldn’t I forget what normal earth temperature felt like and become hardened to the torrid warmth? After a period of time, wouldn’t I get used to the pain?  I don’t think this would happen right away, but we are talking about eternity here! Even if time is different between hell and earth, there has to be some point where a person accepts their surroundings, no matter how miserable.  To understand this phenomenon, imagine a thought experiment where from the age of 15 to the age of 100 a person named Bob was awakened by a right hook to the face thrown by Mike Tyson.  Day after day, Bob is waylaid by a vicious shot the skull from the former champ.  The first 10 or 20 years of this would be awful, but after some period of time wouldn’t Bob simply adjust and accept the beating as the way things are supposed to be.  Bob would be able to brace himself and would build up a tolerance to this sort of abuse.  Any brief survey of history would lead one to believe that humans have the miraculous ability to adjust to nearly any set of awful circumstances.

Another problem with hell as it’s currently constituted is that going to hell actually removes one of the most dreadful aspects of being alive…. death.  In hell, one doesn’t really seem to have a rational reason to fear death.  The terror that humans feel from never knowing for certain what the afterlife is has been removed.  Dying in hell would be a relief to many who are stuck there.  Endless, painless silence would seem to be a good deal better than eternal torture.

There are some basic structural problems with the idea of hell that I cannot quite reconcile.  I’d like to believe that whole thing is just an idea created by humans to scare people into doing good, but maybe that is not true.  However, if it is real, you have to question its effectiveness. I really have to wonder if it is the most efficient possible of a sinner’s afterlife.


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