How the greatest miracle of all will will be our own doing—
Tears and years of toil and prayer ended today as no help arrived. The lifeless and sunburned body of a man—who had prayed often and watched the horizon daily for a rescue, lay in the sand.
The others had left a year ago. They built a wicky-boat and sailed away, now living in Patagonia with jobs and nightlife. Waiting for rescue is a chancy business. While now the world waits in overuse for the second coming to renew the earth, wipe out unbelievers and sinful saints, the earth spins in turmoil. We can do something about it. There is no reason to wait but greed and insecurity. No one is coming to the rescue—it is up to us…This entire exercise of faith and waiting has issued license to havoc our natural resources and consume the very thing that gives us life. The Ouroboros will be our legacy. Not as a symbol of infinity, but of self destruction.
How our grinding evolution is a lemming for religious purpose
Peering carefully, cautiously behind every corner…slowly, quietly, intently approaching every closet, while maginations hide under every bed—every time, chills of air send pilos erect, pupils dilate, blood pressures rise. Skin sensitivity doubles…with caution…ready to flee, or to fight, only to hide in worry another night. After arranging the room carefully—so no objects come alive in their darkened states, can a moment of peace descend dreary into sleep.
Why is this acute imagery laying in wait, alive beround every corner? Where did all this ritual come from? Survival. Who is it that survived the ages to become us? Where did we arrive to this overdeveloped sense, particularly at night?
It is this inherent caution, this fear, that is easily manipulated by religion. Playing on millions of years of survival instinct, the preacher paints a picture of a loving father figure to protect you from evil. If you can only imagine…just a bit more
Since the industrial revolution and the formation of modern survival, we have leaped beyond our multi-generational evolution. Changes that took 100’s of thousands of years are now shoehorned into a century. The preachers gold is our lumbering evolution. Fear is still a best seller…
How religious collapse is nothing to fear.
If this world per chance is a simulation, today would be a good day to pull the plug. Which got me thinking (of course) about what would happen if we pulled the plug on religion.
Air traffic controllers go through an extensive, escalating simulation for several weeks before taking over their assigned airspace, but what happens to the simulator, after hours of stressful (that part is real) training is unplugged and the lights turned off?—Nothing
Disconnecting from religion (another simulation without substance) seems at first would be a catastrophe, is in actuality extremely empowering and calming. “The moment I realized there was no god, I looked back down at the house and realized I’ve got this—I always had” I’ve been on my own my entire life. Wow! The stress I felt by religion was also real. Contemplating a life of no gods was a brief moment of unwarranted worry. Moving from simulation to the control tower is an easy transition.
It reminds me of when President Obama signed the marriage equality bill. No lightning, no thunder, nobody struck dead, just a thunderous applause stifling the fear of the religious right. And what has happened since? No second coming, no global upheaval, nothing but positives.
What happens after the lines are erased and religion folds? Nothing…Nothing but personal responsibility and liberty of mind to chart your own course within the framework of civil law. We’ve got this. We always have. It’s about people proudly helping people, giving and taking credit where it is due—to us!
To sum up what we’ve inherited—we have a machine we never asked for and have no idea who made it. We’ve never seen it actually do anything productive but curiously have no courage to turn it off. We see no actual usefulness for it, but are
convinced forced to live with it at every turn in our life using up precious energy and thoughts. Attempts to disengage the machine are met with raised eyebrows, skepticism, and accusations of evil while those dependent on its psychological hold can’t seem to live without the constant hum of what they won’t believe they can’t live without. The machine has no actual usefulness. Its constant whir numbs the beauty of life with useless tinnitus and distraction, blocking human potential as waves of tv white-noise and cooling fans of the purposeless motor soothe the soul like a dripping faucet they are just to lazy to turn off.
Under careful examination decisions are made. Do I clip the red wire, or the white wire, or just live on hearing it do nothing but interfere with ones clarity. The best I can do is distance myself from the blast zone and hope it runs out of fuel.