Tuesday 1 October 2019



Anonymous said...

I have to believe in a world outside my own mind.

I have to believe my actions still have meaning even if I don't remember them.

I have to believe that when my eyes are closed, the world's still here.

Even for a pure materialist, the world, even time, is an illusion. 

It is a fabrication of our senses and mind, and subject to their foibles. 

Hence an external materialist reality is something to which the materialist has only the slenderest access. 

Ideally the rational materialist seeks to form a minimal internally-consistent simplification of their world with maximum explanatory or predictive power. 

That is, a theory of the world. 

The reductionist physicist humbly aspires to a Theory of Everything, apparently believing superstrings and quantum gravity best explain the experience of the scent of a rose or of a lover or of just being there. 

(Ok, that's unfair, but metaphysics is often not physicists' forte: A ToE is not Ultimate Reality; that is God.)

The more fundamental question is of purpose.

Is our external reality merely a cold and indifferent universe following clockwork rules? Non-teleological. Purposeless.

Or is it something consciously fabricated? Are our lives planned and directed? Purposeful.

Well I'll just say it: it's the latter. 

There are just too many anomalous, bizarre and statistically implausible things for it to be otherwise. 

If you've spent a few decades in this absurd world, you should've noticed by now.

You know what I say when I see a bed of  red hot coals?


Lucky guess.

Sure, there are generally "rational" - that is, physical - explanations for phenomena. 

For example, hot coal walkers avoid injury by moving quickly to cool by convection and prevent absorbing heat and somehow not dripping sweat to evade the latent heat of condensation. Thermodynamics.

But there are far stranger phenomena out there if you're willing to look. 

Our world is not something soulless and mechanical but rather something dreamlike and miraculous. 

Something magical. Even compassionate.

You were put in this world for a purpose. 

And that purpose is to save your life. 

Even the pain helps you.

To help you and save you to become a being worthy of eternity. To enter the next world. The real life.

Somewhere much more fun and relaxing than this infuriating, absurd place..

Where did he go?

  He is gone to a better place. Goodbye, Rance.

He's under the bed.

  I know.

Labels: , , ,


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home