This piece could have been in either of two blogs but I put it in my Taxing Times thread. Please feel free to visit!

Why is god, in some religions, perceived as human and male? Gender is an animal characteristic used for reproduction. So is god an animal like us? Why would an omniscient being be like that? In my opinion it wouldn’t. Is it possible for “god” to be just a really advanced animal? One that has evolved much more than us? And is there more than one? E.g God and Devil. There is more than one in some religions and I’m sure some people think this. I don’t know what I think yet, I haven’t decided.

I think organized religion is a tool used by some people to survive. It connects people together and gives them a sense of fulfillment, and self worth. While others don’t need religion and can find it in other places besides religion- I know I do.

When you look at Religion from a strictly “evolutionary” stand point, you notice that it brings people together and this is a survival tool (being in groups). And I also think that it can work as a mental survival mechanism too- people are happier and more fulfilled so they live better lives.

There is a state of being some spiritualists call enlightenment, Occasionally I feel in this state, or slightly in this state. Sometimes just laying in bed or walking down the street I feel at ease and connected with the environment, my level of awareness/consciousness could be slightly higher/different at a particular moment. I think marijuana changes this level and that’s why it is used in some religions. Don’t think of this “level” as strictly vertical, but 3D. And certain things can change where we are on this scale. Could this scale be our perception? Emotions, drugs, environments, biological factors, and the like alter this.

Hunger might change perception and level of consciousness/awareness that’s why some religions go on fasts at certain times, or eat certain foods.

Environment also changes perception which is why there have been churches, temples, ceremonies, statues, etc.

In my grade 12 history class we have been learning about Napoleon and it made me think of what is really right and what is really wrong.

I think Napoleon is extremely similar to Adolf Hitler. Germany’s economy was in a terrible state and a leader emerged who could inspire and “save” the country from ruin. Both leaders than tried to force their ideals/views onto others and attempted to conquer Europe. An example is when Napoleon integrated his laws and views onto the countries he occupied, similar to Hitler. Hitler and Napoleon also used a great deal of propaganda to their advantage, and controlled most, if not all media outlets. Both were great leaders of men but with askew concepts of right and wrong/morals.

But then what is truly right and what is truly wrong? It’s all just a matter of perspective isn’t it? “Right” and “wrong” are human inventions/terms used to describe perspective. I think maybe what the majority thinks is where we get our values of it from. Some think a utopian society would be one of peace, where everyone has the same if not similar set of values, and concepts of right and wrong.

But that almost sounds like brain wash, which is what Hitler and Napoleon did with their followers, almost like a massive cult. Convincing everyone to think the same way or at least believe in one thing.

A modern day example of this; We believe in democracy and try to get others to conform to the idea of democracy, like in Iraq, but this is exactly what Napoleon and Hitler did with their systems. The only difference is, they employed propaganda, violence, power, and greed to achieve their goals. Today’s methods are a little more subtle.

In conclusion, this demonstrates how right and wrong is based on perspective. So this unveils an uncomfortable question, is what we believe truly right? Or is there even a right and wrong?

I think maybe, where and how we are brought up designates what people think is “right” or “wrong”. It’s not really an internal conscience thing. Suicide bombers for example are brought up to believe that killing themselves is right. We are brought up to think that is wrong and our society thinks it is wrong. So in the end who is really right? You believe you are because that is how you are brought up. Maybe it feels internal though because it is deeply ingrained in you from society- media, culture, etc.

- Philosophy is complex answers to simple questions.

- Philosophy is complex questions with simple answers, we can’t accept as simple.

- If video games can become virtual reality, we would have fifteen year olds fighting in wars, murdering people, robbing banks, and stuff like that. People would get disconnected with reality- morals & perspectives would change.

- There are too many rules in life when there are rules about rules about rules. Is the person who made them determined by rules? Well than who decided that? What constitutes rules?

- The government should work for us, not us work for the government.

- What’s the point of Deja Vu?

- How come you never see people in movies hit the ground when they fall from really high up?

- Different types of people in the world; the imitators and the imitated.

- Imagine buying a bible and the change coming back as $6.66

- Do guys that jack off a lot like women with huge fake tits and excessive make up because they use their imagination a lot?

- Society, simplified, is like a colony of ants that is always trying to improve itself.

- There will be more to come and I will probably expand on some of these topics.

When I see things that are handmade they make me feel good. It’s like they have emotion. Something is there, human nature, perfect imperfections, life. It has its own energy & personality. My goal is to create a handmade lifestyle for myself. To have my wardrobe, sport equipment, kitchenware, furniture, notebooks, art supplies & home, as handmade as possible. I’m not interested in things that are rushed, lifeless & identical to a million other things. I prefer them made with love & built to last.

1st Image; photo from Handmade Houses: A Guide to the Woodbutcher’s Art
2nd Image; handmade laptop sleeve from Hard Graft

The only place success comes before work is in the dictionary
~ Vince Lombardi

My friend Leigh sent me this quote saying it would be a fascinating topic for kiwiflossnz to explore. I have pondered over the quote for two weeks and it has got me thinking about how to define success. I think to define it is impossible because success and how you measure that success is different for each individual.

For example, look closely at the next person you see sitting on a park bench watching their two children on the playground.  Maybe their measure of success is being a responsible and loving parent. For the other person sitting there, the measure of success could be being given the responsibility to look after her neighbour’s son for the day.

Having tangible goals is important for many people. The ability to define, measure and achieve goals is their benchmark for success.  An up-and-coming novelist wrote an entry for NaNoWriMo this year and despite a shaky start, she finished on time. Is she successful? One could say she is – she completed her goal within the one month timeframe. But she may not consider that her goal was successful, because in her eyes, her 2008 entry was of a higher quality.

Part Two to follow….

Things can change so blindingly fast. Within months, weeks, hours, or minutes life or a perspective can unravel and morph at an alarming speed. It is strange how one conversation or even one off-hand comment can reveal parts of a person’s character that you were not aware of before. Maybe in any friendship or relationship there comes a moment where this other person’s weaknesses and flaws are suddenly revealed to you or are made glaringly apparent through some situation you experience together. It is at this crucial moment that you must decide if you can accept this being for all their faults or if they clash too greatly with your own values and possibly your own flaws. Some individuals are very adept at realizing this moment and can separate themselves from a person who in the end might be unhealthy or harmful to their overall well-being. I envy the people who are able to so easily sever ties with the people who hurt them or are simply not a good, healthy emotional fit. In some ways, my own optimism is my downfall; I write off the negative and instead focus on the hope of a future positive connection with this person even if at the moment things don’t feel quite right.

Because of this quality, I have had a lot of half-friends and half-failed relationships. By half, I mean they never truly blossomed into the kind of strong connection that a person shares with any close friend or significant other. Instead, they were drawn out much longer than need be due to my own attempts at resuscitating them long after I should have let them float out to sea. On the other hand, I am grateful to have found through dumb luck and also this dogged perseverance some of my closest and deepest relationships which may never have fully developed if I had given up too soon.

I’m sure it has been said before by someone else, probably many times in many circumstances, that humans are doomed to lives full of disappointment by their very nature. I agree with this in some way, as I am constantly disappointed on a fairly regular basis. However the reason I experience this disappointment is because I am full of such hope about so many different things in life and the day to day. Yes, I am often disappointed, but I have found that when one of these hopes is fulfilled, the happiness I experience makes any failures or disappointments worth all their trouble. In the case I was discussing previously, the failed relationships, friendships and the like are all worth the pain and frustration when you find some of those truly special people who fill your life with joy.

“The sweet is never as sweet without the sour.”

i once read of a poet who did not want to do anything. he did not want to eat; it would be too tasteless. he did not want to exercise; it would be too tiresome. he did not want to read; it would not provoke him. he did not even want to lie down, for he would either have to stay down (which he did not want to do), or get up again (and he did not want to do that either). so the poet simply said to himself, “i don’t feel like doing anything.”

before i continue, i would like to make a note that this entry builds on and plays off of many things which i have previously written. this is in light of the last entry and the responses it garnered, which i feel were largely due to misunderstandings by people who have not read much of my previous writing. so, if you have confusion, resentment, curiosity, et cetera, the relevant links will be posted when appropriate, and i encourage you to check them out! (and reading the previous entry, if you have not done so, might not be a bad place to start).

i will also note that this entry is not meant to be overly philosophical; it is a subject that pulls weightily on my heart. nevertheless, i hope it to be sound, and i hope that you will find it as such. this entry is, for most purposes, a coloring of the spirit behind my last entry.

now back to our poet.

to continue from my last entry, the force of apathy, i believe, is one of the strongest deterrents to truth, and to fulfilled living. i believe that unbelief is a form of cowardice; i believe boredom and callousness to be products of apathy and doubt. to doubt takes no courage at all; it requires no cavalier to deny. but to possess knowledge; to call something “my own!;” to chase with the soul’s greatest passions – what leaps of grandeur for the human soul! i once heard it said, “my sorrow is my castle;” it is as though most people consider apathy and the like to be something of a convenience in life. i see this terrible nature of human being, and i say to my soul: how unreasonable we are as human beings! we rarely use the freedoms that we have, and yet we demand those that we do not have. when he have freedom of thought, we demand freedom of speech, and then we speak our minds into paralysis.

have we forgotten our power to passion? we have this, i believe, and we squander it. it is my observation that in this generation, desire is simultaneously unhealthy and boring, as it simply desires what belongs to its neighbor. yet we forget that our neighbor does not possess what we seek any more than we do, and is also seeking. so then, in our disappointments, our wrongdoings become so flagrant as to cause a stirring, because we are bored with the reality we have thrust upon ourselves. we become so tired with wishing that life would present us surreal favors, as in the novel, that we begin to wish for surreal misfortunes as in the novel. and we even begin to see to it that they manifest just to give ourselves life.

some people complain that times are indecent; that people are evil. but why does no one complain that they are without passion? our thoughts are as fragile as porcelain, and their keepers are just as ready to shatter. our passions are as impotent as the sterile man, and as unfulfilled as his mistress. we do not care, and we do not care that we do not care, because we have not cared ourselves into uncaring. we perform duties, but to what end? i believe that most of our achievements may be said to amount to nothing more than the current shade of our temperament. we often rush after pleasure with such haste that we tear right past it, and then we find life empty and meaningless. we bury a body; we have kept it company to the grave; we throw a few shovelfuls of earth on it; ride out and back to bid it adieu; finally, we find consolation in the long life left ahead of us. but how long, considering that we waste much of it much of it, and fail to sustain what we do not throw away?

when we are young, we forget in a cave how to laugh. as we grow older, we see more of reality and cannot control our laughter. what are we to believe the meaning of life is? perhaps the delight of love is in acquiring a beautiful woman; perhaps a thousand virgins. perhaps the blessedness of friendships is to help each other with financial difficulties; perhaps to pinch pockets. perhaps wisdom is whatever the majority assumes it to be; perhaps it is of the asylum. perhaps enthusiasm is to give a speech; perhaps to be a soldier. perhaps courage is to risk a ten-dollar fine; cordiality is a proper greeting; piety to attend church once a year. perhaps these things are the truth. but what good is any of it if we have not sincerity; if we are as the dead poet?

because we are not sincere, we lie prostrate, impotent, inert. we see, move in, and live on only emptiness. for those troubled enough to reach this point (and valiant enough to acknowledge their state), even excruciating pain does not refresh the nerves. it is as though if we were infected with all of the world’s glories or all of its furies, neither would move us to anything more than the other. “we are dying death;” what could divert us?

in my last entry, the spirit was a plea for the desire for the truth which yields passion for life and sincerity towards all things. for i believe that it is truth that brings this sincerity into living; counter-intuitively, it is truth that creates the art of living, transcending it from mere existence. we could revive!;

but we prepare our souls as prone to poison, ready to die. it is like a salty sea, too large for any bird to fly over, too dense for any monster to swim across, too quick for the tired bird to float on, and too toxic for the exhausted monster to catch breath in. do we not realize that our souls are a battleground? do we care not that they are forever trampled on and bloodsoaked? the truth and the untruth battle for the hill; belief and unbelief command the troops. and to ignore the war does no more good to our souls than the commodore who fails to give orders in the midst of a capsize.

often times, we live lives that have no meaning beyond the consumption of the conditions laid before us. i believe that real enjoyment often consists not in what one enjoys, but in the idea of it. suppose for a moment that you mastered a jinni. wine is your favorite drink, but at times you request a glass of water. whenever you file this request (or any request for a drink other than wine), the jinni brings you a glass of wine, knowing that you enjoy wine more than water. which of us would be satisfied with such a jinni? i believe that we would dismiss such a jinni due to his inability to fulfill our desires. the jinni does not realize that the enjoyment lies not so much in what we enjoy, but perhaps in the anticipation, and more so in getting our own way. the jinni does not understand that reality can be invigorating, sometimes our dreams are wrong, and unfailingly we grow weary of them.

more importantly, we do not realize that we are the jinni to our souls. it seems to me that we would prefer to live a life of recollection and imagination, rather than one of actuality. but why? a late children’s writer once made a comment about how love robs one of sleep, because in love, reality is at last more desirable than dreams. i have found it the same with the truth. perhaps if we witnessed a faithfulness to life that withstood every ordeal; an enthusiasm that could not be curbed; a belief that moved mountains; an idea that joined the infinite and the finite; a grace that made resolute the imperfect and the perfect.

perhaps, if we postured our souls sincerely toward the truth, and allowed the creation of that same posture in us towards the rest of life.

so may we long for the truth, and see how dreadfully dull and unsatisfying the untruth is. may we not use cynicism as our guard, because it feels not for us any more than for its other victims. may the cowardice of apathy be as vinegar to our souls, and our souls as taste buds which cause this uncontrollable reflex to spit it out in disgust. may we not pretend that doubt is courageous, because practiced lies become as truth to our souls. rather may we rush in hurriedly as lovers do, slowed not by any fear. may we fashion our souls vulnerable to the truth, at the risk of fatal injury, taking comfort that the truth is naturally superior to its opponents. may we believe

sincerely,

It will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking.

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back..

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.. Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene. One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man could not hear the band – he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days, weeks and months passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, ‘Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.’

Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can’t buy.

It is the essence of being human. It speaks of the fact that my humanity is caught up and is inextricably bound up in yours. I am human because I belong. It speaks about wholeness, it speaks about compassion. A person with Ubuntu is welcoming, hospitable, warm and generous, willing to share. Such people are open and available to others, willing to be vulnerable, affirming of others, do not feel threatened that others are able and good, for they have a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that they belong in a greater whole. They know that they are diminished when others are humiliated, diminished when others are oppressed, diminished when others are treated as if they were less than who they are. The quality of Ubuntu gives people resilience, enabling them to survive and emerge still human despite all efforts to dehumanize them. -The South African Nobel Laureate Archbishop Desmond Tutu on the African philosophy of Ubuntu

“They who say that we should love our fellow-citizens but not foreigners, destroy the universal brotherhood of mankind, with which benevolence and justice would perish forever.” Cicero

Can I see another’s woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s grief, and not seek for kind relief? William Blake

Whoever degrades another degrades me,
And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.
Walt Whitman

“I don’t know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found how to serve.” Albert Schweitzer

Many persons have no idea of what constitutes true happiness. It is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.” Helen Keller

“Happiness is not synonymous with pleasure. It is, instead, a deeper emotion that originates from within. . . . Happiness results from a sense of mental and moral contentment with who we are, what we value, and how we invest our time and resources for purposes beyond ourselves.” David Shi

“Humanism believes that the individual attains the good life by harmoniously combining personal satisfactions and continuous self-development with significant work and other activities that contribute to the welfare of the community.” Corliss Lamont

I have seen war. I have seen war on land and sea. I have seen blood running from the wounded… I have seen the dead in the mud. I have seen cities destroyed… I have seen children starving. I have see the agony of mothers and wives. I hate war.

If ignorance is bliss, why aren’t more people happy? – Unkown

The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everyone else, and this is a feeling I have always cultivated.

Desire is the essence of man.

Baruch Spinoza

The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously.

Hubert Humphrey

All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind.

Fear grows in darkness; if you think there’s a bogeyman around, turn on the light.

Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live.

Dorothy Thompson

Can I see another’s woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s grief, and not seek for kind relief?

I’m full of contradictions.

Whoever degrades another degrades me,
And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.
Walt Whitman