Godly

God

God is one, love, a man of war, and good (which I believe are the only 4 definitions giving in the bible, OT and NT both).  I could be wrong.  But I did read the damn thing.

Wikipedia has some more definitions.  

Greatest conceivable existent.   Is infinity conceivable?  That’s a good question, no?  It’s definable.  But our brains are not infinite.  Nothing is, but the universe.   So God is the universe.  Or, reality.   Reality is all the god there ever is, said Ali Da.  Not that he knows any more than anybody else, truth told.  You get to choose what beliefs to keep, which to throw out.  I like to play with the idea that infinity goes infinitely smaller, as well as infinitely bigger, and that maybe a pair or more are identical.   Fractal reality, iterations.  There’s no such thing as biggest or smallest.  You can always go deeper, greater.  I could have several universes in my head.  Says the schizo.  It’s just a thought that anybody could have.  Anyone who thinks about things.  Maybe not one of the average 100 iq people.   The smarter half.  If IQ is an average, well the dumbest is zero and the smartest is inconceivable.  Much smarter than whoever writes those tests, in the first place.  So the average, well, could be quite high, given the near-omniscience of the godliest.  But what about collective minds, minds assisted by technology, such as wikipedia, which itself is the collective wisdom of millions of contributors?  And supercomputers and quantum computers, programmed by geniuses, to supplement the kwuteo of the already highly advanced and superior intellects?   And common sense, which someone quipped, in a quote, wasn’t really so common.  Anyway, back to God.

God is One.  There can be only one infinity.  And each of us is our own reality.   So we’re the center of our own universes.   We are our bodies.  And religion is hypnosis, in the pursuit of wealth and happiness and community.  Memes that reproduce.  All ideas are worthy of consideration, if not purchase.  So the geniuses throw out everything, and see what sticks, like spaghetti, after it’s al dente, which sticks to the wall, when it’s ready, they say.  Ha.  Anybody has the right to believe anything, no matter how ridiculous or wrong it may seem to somebody else.  The most murderous and hellish ideologies can live alongside the most peaceful.  They CAN.  But they don’t always DO.  One bad apple spoils the bunch.  A “true” religion would cause the widest happiness, to the most people.  Would this be delusional, false?  Psychopaths get great joy from the misery of others.  Or even everyday, boring schadenfreude.   Everybody is tormented.  We all share our minds, we’re all twisted.  True crime and mysteries and detective fiction and horror draw from the collective (un)conscious.  A healthy society has books and dreams and movies that satisfy the universal need.  It’s a beautiful world.  Lawyers can immerse in the historical and present crime, around the world, furthering peace and happiness, by imprisoning and executing the evil, who were just putting into practice and reality the enraged and twisted love, inside all of us.  What is love?  It’s when you are willing to die, for someone that you, yourself, want to kill.  Ha.  It’s all good.  Allright.

Anyway, God.  Love.  God is love.  Love is God.  All things are fair in love and war.  Some love war.  Not everybody loves love.  Maybe I’m wrong about that.  How many experience true love?  Hopefully, most of us.  At least the love of a mother for her baby.  Or, puppy love.  Or one’s first, rapturous, sexual experience.  Or, maybe a husband or wife.  Or, after taking acid, a love of all, of reality, of everyone, in a clean and open experience of satori or something.  Or maybe a bliss, obtained through meditation.  Or maybe you just have happy genes.  Or you join a cult that makes you happy.  Or you can immerse in reading or writing or some hobby that is a flow state, a worthy way to spend your limited time, time that results in death for everyone - which, as I see it, makes all roads and choices legitimate, but some result in much more happiness than others.  I choose to read the library.   To write a tome.  To experience, vicariously, all the literary creativity of the many inspired geniuses who so graciously allow me to compress the time they put into the creation of curious, engaging, well-written stories.  I love my blog and my library.   And delicious food.  That’s all I need.  More or less.

Good.  Overdosing shouldn’t be a part of good.  That’s a weird linguistic misfortune.  Unless you’re suicidal.  Can suicide ever be good?  I don’t think so.   Life can be so miraculous, perfect, fun, rewarding, satisfying.  So no.  If you have neuralgia, and are in permanent pain… even then, you could be on heroin - would that obviate the suffering?  Interesting questions.  

A man of war?  War is hell.  So a diplomatic mentality of waging psy war against war, itself, is how I read that.  Not some sicko getting his jollies offing “enemies” from a sniper’s nest, watching heads explode.  Happiness may be a warm gun, but heaven is love-bliss, with peace and contentment and universal harmony.  There’s a world of difference.  I say from my limited experience, assuming I can speak authoritatively from reading about war’s misery, and my imagination, envisioning a utopian paradise, if not the actual highs and lows of my personal life story.  Anyway, God.  G, the 7th letter.  O, the 15th.  D, the 4th.  26, all together, like the alphabet itself.  Z, sleep.  Morpheus is the God of dreams.  This essay is a kind of dream.  Merrily, merrily…. Life is a dreamy butt.  Ha.   Not really.  I just thought that was clever.  Whatever’s clever.  Which I should write, never.  Too late!  

fyi
'kwuteo' is my word for knowledge, wisdom, understanding, truth, enlightenment, omniscience.

p.s.  I just finished reading The Best American Scifi/Fantasy, 2017.   :-)
328pp.