Blathering On

blatherskite

God is a word, 3 letters, that doesn’t mean anything.  In fact, only God is good.   Goodness isn’t mean.  People are things.  A part of everything, which some people call God.  Reality is different, from person to person, even though there is only One True Reality.  Virtual realities, you-niverses, if you will, that change from Person to person, language to language, culture to culture, and time to time.  People’s reality changes during their lifetimes, different ages and situations.  I am not experiencing the same reality I did when I was in kindergarten.  I'm not even experiencing what I did this morning.  The bible says there is nothing new under the sun.  Over the sun?  What’s up, doc?  There is no up.  Up is down, down is up, if you like.  Gravity pulls down, is the way you define it.  Under the sun could be inside the sun, or on the other side of the sun, or maybe under a pole the sun rotates around, if it’s like the earth, maybe.  That’s 4 options.  Nothing is new, everything is old, old, old.  Every sound, every word, every meaning, every story, every book, song, movie.  It’s all so boring.  God is boring.  God is Allah.   All?  ah.   Ok, well that doesn’t change anything.  Sadism and masochism, hell and war and crime and punishment and evil and good.  Karma and justice and fairness and multiple universes.  Everyone and everything is impermanent, temporary, transitory, ephemeral, passing, arising and dissipating, appearing and disappearing.  Nothing is concrete, not even concrete.  A diamond is not forever.  Time rolls on.   Around the sun a few billion times.   Then the sun expires.  Time travel.  Teleportation.  Pods.  Antigravity.  The whole shebang.  

Anyway, 

God doesn’t exist.  There is no omniscience.  No mind has read (or composed!) the entire human corpus of literature.  Nobody knows everything, or even can.  How would I know this?  Well, I don’t.   Just goes to show.  Nobody knows anything.  I think, therefore I am.  Ha, not even that, if you ask me.  I think, I think.  Something else might be doing the thinking.  Ugh.

   There’s no entity that permeates all of spacetime, infinite as it is.   Delusion?  God isn’t infinite?  I don’t know jack shit.  I know a couple S.J.’s though.  Jesuits, that is.  Members of the society of Jesus.  What did he know. Not much, if you ask me.  Just a gambler, like anyone else.  Eternal life, because life is good, and there must be a source for all goodness, the creator, if you believe all that religious hooha, because you’re a good little jewish boy.  Well, I’m good, because I tell the truth, and it’s very likely that Jesus was full of shit.  Nobody is infinite.  You can toy with the idea that reality gets infinitely smaller within a defined body, but that’s nonsense.  There’s only one true infinity.   That’s obvious.  If you define reality as God, then yes you are a part of something bigger than yourself.  Big whoop.  So is everybody else.  And we’ll all be dead.  There’s no point in proselytizing or being a missionary or spreading good news.  I mean, it it floats your boat.  But it doesn’t.  Water floats your boat.  God is just philosophical madness.  May the force be with you.  So you can move shit around with your mind.  It’s called logistics.  Plumbing.  Well, whatever.  A mad, sick, stupid, mean, godless world.  Fuck you.

Kill everybody.  Do whatever the hell you want.  I don’t give a shit.  And I’m God.  It’s all good.  If I gave a shit, you’d have a turd in a xmas box, all wrapped up nice and pretty.  You don’t want me to give a shit.  Give a fuck?  I don’t want your disease.  You don’t want my baby.  I don’t want to be a slave to the money, then die.  There’s more to life than money and sex and family.   There are thousands of good books worth reading.  And a blog to write.  And time to kill.  Give a damn?  You don’t really want to send anyone to hell.  Hell is supposedly eternal suffering.  If you really gave someone a sentence to hell, you’d deserve hell yourself.  So I don’t give a damn, actually.  Give a rat’s ass?  Ok, obviously we’re not being literal here.   I give my time, my mind, to some thought about expressions that supposedly mean I care, when I really do, but I don’t give anybody anything except words, words, words.  Which you can figure out for yourself.  But maybe you find me interesting, anyway.  I don’t want to suffer or die, just like anybody else (who isn’t suicidal).   So we’re all in the same boat.  Which is why you’re God too.  I mean, I’m not everybody, am I?  Maybe I am.  That would be weird, and hard to prove.  But mind control is a thing, I think.  So it goes.  You’re you, and I’m me, and everybody else is to each his own.   We’re all me, myself, and I.  A trinity of self.  No?  I don’t know.  Do you?  

Maybe it's the devil's mission to make you suicidal, so you'll consider being homicidal, and not care about yourself or anybody else, so you can be his prey in hell, to give him schadenfreude happiness, and sadist pleasure, and the thrill of being evil (which can only be just if the victims are being punished for evil of their own).  I don't think that shit is real though.  Life is good.  Make some friends.  Get a life.  Killing is not the answer.  Amen.  Time kills everybody.  You're not time.  But if I'm God, well you can be Time, I guess.  Is there a real God, or is everything merely roles.  If everybody believes it, well it must be true.