shadowscape

God – a conversation

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God came to me last night in a dream. I said: “Hey, God, how’s it going?” He laughed. He has a simply divine laughter. And then He spake to me, and he spake thusly:

“It’s going good, Laur, My child. Not great, mind you, but it cannot be helped for the time being.”

“What can I do for you, Oh God?” I asked.

At this, He laughed even harder. His laugh is contagious, like watching April lambs cavorting in new grass. Maybe that’s why they go on and on about The Lamb of God.

“That’s a funny question to ask, My child”, He said. “Usually people just tell Me what I can do for them.”

“Oh, you’ve been good to me, Oh God, I have no complaints. Or maybe I do, but I’d like to try and fix them myself first, if You don’t mind. And with a little help, of course”.

God’s really full of mirth these days.

“First of all, stop with that «spaketh» nonsense,” He said. “And the capitalization. It’s distracting me, and it is a bit pretentious. I don’t need capitals to remind people of who I am.”

I must admit, he has a point there.

“Of course I do, I am God after all.” She smiled at me. “Now, don’t be flustered. How would you like to work for me? At least for a little while? There’s a prophet position coming up, and I think you might be a really good fit for the role.”

“Prophet, Oh God?”

“Oh yes. It’s no big deal, really. Just tell the world what I’m about to tell you. Get some tablets of stone and a chisel and take this down.”

“How about I post it on the Internet, Oh God?”

“That could work too, I guess. Now write this down.”

“I am.”

“Don’t interrupt now, prophet of mine. Where was I? Oh yes. Paragraph. Don’t write that down, will you?”

Message from God

Hello World! It’s been a while since you last heard from me, and you’ve grown quite a bit in the while. You’re no longer small children who need to be spoon-fed and led by the hand, so I’ll say it to you straight. Pay attention.

I am one God. You gave me so many nicknames over the years you tend to forget this small fact. I don’t care if you’re calling me Allah, Yahveh, Lord, Higher Power or Immutable Natural Law. If you all understand this, you’ll be better for it in the long run. Trust me. I am your God.

Regardless of the name you chose for me, don’t take my name in vain! And I don’t necessarily mean swearing. I’m talking about killing people in my name, hurting them in my name, hiding your petty ambitions and awful nature behind my name! I’m referring to just a few of you, praise be to me. You think that by killing in my name you get rewards in the afterlife? Rest assured, we’ll have a word about that when you get there.

Be decent towards one another. I would have said “be good”, but that may be pushing it a bit. Just be decent, it’s good enough for me. Go ahead and be good if you want to. Just don’t be jerks, that’s what I want to say.

I have no beef with religion. If you want to worship me, fine – I like being worshiped. One little request though: don’t assume you know me and my will just because you’re religious. See 1, 2 and 3.

I don’t require people to believe in me; I am not Tinkerbell. I will be here regardless. As a matter of fact, atheists that are good, decent people just because that’s how they are and not because of some church-induced fear of everlasting punishment are in for a nice surprise. Don’t tell them I said so though. They won’t believe it anyway.

Let it be known that I am not, nor have I ever been, against science and knowledge. By all means, learn about this beautiful universe. I take pride in my work.1

What I speak, everyone can hear. Few choose to listen. Do listen for my voice every once in a while.

Which reminds me. To those of you who write down what I say: please remember, you’re only writing down with your mind a memory of an interpretation of a voice that spoke to your soul. Please do not claim it is the absolute truth. You don’t even have words in your languages for some of the things that I say. Maybe someday you will. Readers, beware.2

I have many, many, many sons and daughters. You Earthlings are all my family, and I love you just as much as I love all my other creations. I sure hope one day you get to meet each other. Keep investing in NASA, you got a good thing going there.

There has to be ten of them, right? Thanks, Moses. Anyway. As long as you get what I’ve said in the previous nine, you’ll do fine. For the rest, do what you will. Take responsibility for your actions. Oh, and “Thou shalt not kill.” I’m still rather privy to that one.

I guess this is it, world. Enjoy your life, don’t spoil it. I will be seeing you all later.

Love,

God

“Plus, some of your physics theories really make me laugh”, he said. “Don’t write that down.” “Not even as a footnote?” “Ok, fine.” [↩]
“Besides, what do you think would happen if I would give you the absolute truth on a platter? That would kinda spoil everything, right? Searching for it is oh so much more fun!” [↩]

Ganduri commandments, conversation, dream, everything, god, knowledge, religion, science, truth, universe

I got nothing

05:17 Scris de Laur

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For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

Ownership and property are the cornerstones of the modern society. But where do they come from? Where are they going? Do they have a ticket, or are they just getting a free ride? And more importantly, are they real?

The sense of ownership is but a refinement of a much more basic and raw force within us: the territorial instinct. And we are not the only ones that possess one. Wolves have it. Birds have it. Even the bees have it, although it might be argued that for the later we should consider the entire bee-hive as an organism.

Territorial instinct, the spatial awareness of our boundaries, is so important that it is hard-coded in the genes. Wolves born and bred in captivity become nervous and agitated when they are introduced to the territory of a wolf pack, and the only way to calm them down is to bring them back to “neutral” territory. Simply put, they’re scared howlless, as well they should be, since the pack would rip them to shreds if they were stupid enough to linger on these foreign hunting grounds.

The reason territory is so important for a wolf – and for other animals as well – is because it is a cheap way to avoid confrontation. In the wolf world, confrontation is not sought, nor desired; victory in a fight to the death oft comes with its own price of grievous wounds on the part of the victor. The pack would have to care for him and nurse him back to health, if possible, and a valuable hunter would be temporarily or permanently lost. Wolves risk confrontation, but only as a last resort – for instance, if food becomes so scarce that the alternative is death by starvation. Otherwise posturing and grandstanding will suffice – and if that doesn’t work, running is always better than dying. At least for a wolf.

The tribes from the forgotten dawn of the age of mankind were quite similar in approach and social organization to a wolf pack. The most experienced and successful hunter assumed leadership, and the others would follow. The catch was shared within the tribe, to each according to their needs in times of plenty, hunters first in leaner times. It was a rather communist society in that regard, and possession, as much as it was, would be enforced by strength alone. Do not imagine that these men were constantly fighting amongst themselves – that would be as stupid for them as it was for the wolves. Instead, there would be trials and games, enough to assert one’s domination without endangering the tribe.

I do not know how ownership as we know it came to be. Perhaps the practicality of giving the best weapons to the best hunter was turned on its head, so that the one with the best weapons was considered the best hunter. Those weapons thus became a symbol of power, and even if their bearer would only be mediocre, he would still enjoy the benefits associated with them. Ownership is power manifest, and the power was for the first time in history derived from a mere symbol. The world’s first currency was born.

In today’s world, ownership is still power. I own a house, therefore I am entitled to do with it whatever I want. But instead of manifesting the power to hold this possession, I – and you, and everyone – delegated it to a symbolic entity called state. We empowered the state to assert our claims of ownership, and we called this empowerment “law”. Thus, when I say that I, by law, I am the owner of the house, what I mean is that the state allows me to stay in it and protects me from those who would seek to take it from me. I am recognized as owner by the state via a piece of paper, a so-called title of property.

Could the state choose to do take this property from me? Indeed it could, and historically this has happened countless times. If the majority agrees to this, the state is allowed to pass laws to confiscate my property without compensation if need be. The state must do everything in accordance to its laws, as an expression of the will of the people. Even if the laws are immoral or unjust. The majority hath spoken.

And if the state collapses? Then, as portrayed in countless post-apocalyptic books and movies, I will own only what I keep others from having. I’m sure that, given three or four determined individuals with baseball bats, I could be persuaded to give up what I have. And if they’re starved to boot, I’d better run pretty damn fast while enacting this donation. What would my possessions be then? And what would be their worth?

Indeed, all I own is some paper. With that and a match I can light a fire before the wolves get here.

Mic ghid existential common, ownership, pack, private, property, state, wolf

Alb, orașul

04:25 Scris de Laur

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Orașul: alb pe alb, fuioare de fum risipindu-se alene în calmul dimineții. Ninge potolit, aproape invizibil, cu fulgi mărunți și aspri ca grăunțele de nisip. În largul Mării Nordului, curentul Golfului și-a luat vacanță și s-a retras spre Kalaallit Nunaat – Grønland, odată verde, azi giuvaer de gheață. De fapt, oceanului nu-i pasă cum se cheamă insula căreia îi încălzește acum țărmurile ca pe vremurile apuse ale lui Erik cel Roșu. De fapt, oceanului nu-i pasă câtuși de puțin.

Alb. Vecinii mei batavi, înfofoliți ca pentru expediție, își curăță trotuarele cu gesturi aproape vesele, de copii puși pe șotii. Zâmbesc și mă salută. La mulți ani. Beste Wensen. E frig în Olanda la minus patru grade. Îmi amintesc de alte ierni, cu troiene mai înalte decât ochii mei de copil, ierni cu Crivăț și ger și foc de lemne în sobă, și îi salut la rându-mi. Beste Wensen. Cele mai bune dorințe. Pentru noi toți.

E liniștit orașul, tăcut sub două palme de zăpadă, uimit pesemne de această iarnă neașteptată și străină, o imigrantă rusoaică trecută de prima tinerețe, cu un zâmbet șmecheresc și ochi albaștri-oțelii. Copii gălăgioși, cu zulufi blonzi își încearcă patinele pe canalele înghețate bocnă peste noapte, sub privirile îngăduitoare ale părinților. Doi oameni de zăpadă cu priviri agere și nas de morcov stau strajă intrării în parc. Este voie?

De rătăcit ne-am rătăcit cu toții în această nouă, neașteptată Narnie. Puțini dintre noi însă ne dorim să nu găsim drumul înapoi – sau cel puțin nu încă. Mai lasă-ne un pic afară, mamă, nu e întuneric încă și ne jucăm așa de frumos… Luminile orașului se aprind una câte una, umbre galbene plutind pe albastrul zăpezii înserate. Închid ochii și gust în vântul iernii miresmele zăpezii de-altădată.

Viata ca o prada netherlands, snow, winter