Tonight I was told that all the great people in history arrived at the same conclusion. The implication of this line of benediction was to inform me that the 'Creator' had imbued life with souls and that to deny the force of such an historical collective of conscience was... stupid I guess.
Right now I don't feel that stupid. This could in fact be thanks to the reality that I am stupid and don't realise because of my average IQ. Being fair I cannot rule this out. Or perhaps more accurately my intelligence may not allow me to perceive some things which someone smarter than myself perceives. That is completely fair and I suspect entirely correct. If it weren't then I wouldn't have failed accounting at university and then indulged my creative side in arts.
However, arriving at a belief in souls and comprehending theoretical physics seem to me to be entirely different planes of thought - Einstein was one of the bricks the person I was talking to was fallaciously building her argument with. Either way I cannot take someone else's experience as my own otherwise I would have been indoctrinated a long time ago and this kind of postulation would be moot.
Why, anyway, should I respect intellectual giants at the sake of my own curiosity and enlightenment? Knowledge wasn't perfected before I was born and I don't know of anything other than a concept of 'god' that has a monopoly on knowledge either. Knowledge to me is something that is built upon and grows organically with new perspectives and insights. With this in mind I'll frame my atheistic tendencies in the ever growing and expanding universe of knowledge and my minuscule comprehension of it.
Ultimately I can't say that I know anything for certain, only what I know to myself. This is unfortunately somewhat small and so extrapolation occurs and I arrive at what I believe in. What I believe is this (some of the things anyway):
I have had no experience I can attribute to a god or gods. If I have had such an experience it was too subtle to recognise and therefore went unnoticed.
Life proliferates on this planet and is therefore not unique. My life is not unique.
My physical existence and self-consciousness are unique and wholly invaluable. I'm not sure what precipitates existence but I'm exquisitely fortunate to be here existing.
There is nothing to indicate in my experience or at an observable level the existence of souls.
If I have seen a ghost there has been nothing to differentiate it from the living and so I can't say I've seen one.
If my life was given to me by a god(s) or creator they voluntarily gave me this life, there is no expectation of compensation by definition.
Religious ambiguity disambiguates towards atheism.
I will not fawn at the heals of any deity for the sake of a better life. My life is my own to make of what I will. If I succeed it will be thanks to many things. If I fuck up then I've got no one else to blame.
I do not tolerate intolerance of difference. This can be expressed two ways:
Um) At an interpersonal level between humans and at a macro level between cultures.
Dois) If a god(s) or creator wants to judge me at the end of my life based on whether or not I conformed to their want or will they gave me this life with preconditions. That is not giving, nor is it fair. I live by what I deem right, not because I fear retribution or some concept of hell. And if that happens to be where I'm headed because I did not conform to a set of beliefs? The concept that there could be a god so selfish is something I cannot fathom.
*****
So where does this rant leave me and any of you unfortunate enough to still be reading (D-man)? Damned if I know. Whatever happens in life happens. I will not hedge my bets and pick a religion to ensure a comfortable afterlife (if indeed there is one). I will be judged for who I am, what I do, and that's that.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Intermittent Flirtations
It's funny how kids swarm around points of interest. Little people everywhere wanting to know 'Why is that guy on a stretcher?' To be honest I felt the same way. The question over what I had done would persist only as a grand delusion. I pretended things would be fine, that I would be up and running in a couple of weeks. Without a firm diagnosis it would have been presumptive to accept that my knee and life in the short-term had been wrecked.
Right?
I'm not sure I ever truly believed that. Over the weeks and months following January 31st the internet became a tool to find out what exactly rupturing an ACL meant for me. Preparing for the worst scenario in this case made the most sense.
I was transferred from the field to an ambulance and given laughing gas. At this point in time I attempted a brave show of manliness by trying some comedy while asking my new ambulance friend questions one might ask over tea. I wasn't too successful however - the pain, which I was asked to describe on a scale of 1 to 10, was tipping out at 9 and 3/4 thanks to the increased pressure on my knee joint every time the ambulance slowed down. The nitrous oxide took effect on every other part of my body in a tingling sensation but my knee stayed stalwart in its persistent reminder of pain.
At the hospital I was passed over to a nurse (male). By this time I was in my comedy grove and wanted to say that nurses were much prettier on television than in real life. His business-like air and defeated sense of purpose stole the words from my mouth and I was wheeled into a room to await an x-ray. My brother turned up almost immediately (he was playing soccer with me), and I think he had already called Mum and Dad but we talked to them again and Dad turned up shortly thereafter.
*****
Soliloquy: My brothers and I have a lot to answer for. Collectively we've shortened our parents lives, particularly that of our Mum's, by around 20 or more years. The number of serious injuries and surgeries required between us is long and illustrious and the fact both Mum and Dad still have natural colour in their hair is pretty amazing.
That most people haven't broken a bone in their life still astounds me.
*****
Hospitals are gruelling places. I'm not sure I can put in words the indelible experience I had but two things in particular characterised my short-lived stay.
Ichi) The gurney operator who wheeled me to and from my x-ray looked absolutely smashed - 20 years and 20 drinks and I still wouldn't look as crumpled as this guy did. Red eyes, red face, and an air of 'get me the fuck out of here' hung about his neck. That's not to say he was unkind. Au contraire, he was moustached, stocky, and could have been a friend's cool dad. He had just started another long shift out of innumerable days work and reminded me of a rock in a river, slowly giving his soul to a never ending flow of humanity passing through his workplace.
Ni) When I was wheeled out of my x-ray I was stowed in an alcove where a good-looking nurse (female) accompanied a man not much younger than myself. The catch was he was lying prone with a brace wrapped around his neck. I'll admit my thoughts had been highly self-involved up until this point, and perhaps they still were; I don't know if I cried for him, myself, or at my selfishness. It was a sad slap from Reality and one which brought to sharp relief my own situation. Whatever happens to me, there are people who are experiencing loss greater than I'll ever care to imagine or experience. Facing such a reality personally in such a desperate time was truly humbling.
I was placed in a corridor afterwards. There were no rooms left and the doctors were trying to make space for people in greater need than my own. With no bone shards populating my x-ray they had done all they could for this chump.
My Dad and I left with no fanfare, we were forgotten amongst a sea of the woe begotten, broken occasionally by wraith-like hospital workers darting amongst the swell.
*****
I was at the beginning of what has and continues to be a journey. Moments happen in life, they are neither good nor bad, and you take from them what you will. This was an awakening of sorts, not a happy one but a profound one. How profound?
I'm still figuring it out.
Right?
I'm not sure I ever truly believed that. Over the weeks and months following January 31st the internet became a tool to find out what exactly rupturing an ACL meant for me. Preparing for the worst scenario in this case made the most sense.
I was transferred from the field to an ambulance and given laughing gas. At this point in time I attempted a brave show of manliness by trying some comedy while asking my new ambulance friend questions one might ask over tea. I wasn't too successful however - the pain, which I was asked to describe on a scale of 1 to 10, was tipping out at 9 and 3/4 thanks to the increased pressure on my knee joint every time the ambulance slowed down. The nitrous oxide took effect on every other part of my body in a tingling sensation but my knee stayed stalwart in its persistent reminder of pain.
At the hospital I was passed over to a nurse (male). By this time I was in my comedy grove and wanted to say that nurses were much prettier on television than in real life. His business-like air and defeated sense of purpose stole the words from my mouth and I was wheeled into a room to await an x-ray. My brother turned up almost immediately (he was playing soccer with me), and I think he had already called Mum and Dad but we talked to them again and Dad turned up shortly thereafter.
*****
Soliloquy: My brothers and I have a lot to answer for. Collectively we've shortened our parents lives, particularly that of our Mum's, by around 20 or more years. The number of serious injuries and surgeries required between us is long and illustrious and the fact both Mum and Dad still have natural colour in their hair is pretty amazing.
That most people haven't broken a bone in their life still astounds me.
*****
Hospitals are gruelling places. I'm not sure I can put in words the indelible experience I had but two things in particular characterised my short-lived stay.
Ichi) The gurney operator who wheeled me to and from my x-ray looked absolutely smashed - 20 years and 20 drinks and I still wouldn't look as crumpled as this guy did. Red eyes, red face, and an air of 'get me the fuck out of here' hung about his neck. That's not to say he was unkind. Au contraire, he was moustached, stocky, and could have been a friend's cool dad. He had just started another long shift out of innumerable days work and reminded me of a rock in a river, slowly giving his soul to a never ending flow of humanity passing through his workplace.
Ni) When I was wheeled out of my x-ray I was stowed in an alcove where a good-looking nurse (female) accompanied a man not much younger than myself. The catch was he was lying prone with a brace wrapped around his neck. I'll admit my thoughts had been highly self-involved up until this point, and perhaps they still were; I don't know if I cried for him, myself, or at my selfishness. It was a sad slap from Reality and one which brought to sharp relief my own situation. Whatever happens to me, there are people who are experiencing loss greater than I'll ever care to imagine or experience. Facing such a reality personally in such a desperate time was truly humbling.
I was placed in a corridor afterwards. There were no rooms left and the doctors were trying to make space for people in greater need than my own. With no bone shards populating my x-ray they had done all they could for this chump.
My Dad and I left with no fanfare, we were forgotten amongst a sea of the woe begotten, broken occasionally by wraith-like hospital workers darting amongst the swell.
*****
I was at the beginning of what has and continues to be a journey. Moments happen in life, they are neither good nor bad, and you take from them what you will. This was an awakening of sorts, not a happy one but a profound one. How profound?
I'm still figuring it out.
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