Decoronation

This horrified fascination of humans attempting to dethrone God had captured my mind. I was hallucinating lucidly an image of the Tower of Babel rising to meet with Him. Why rising to meet with Him? Because He was superior to us for He had created us. And we, insolent to the end, had horribly risen to take the Crown away from our Maker.

How did that sound? It would have been insane not to consider that crazy. Circles does insanity draw on the sand. And if you would weave a woolly mammoth a woolen coat, then we would be weeping in wonderment. But, don’t ever catch a tiger by its tail, or it will start to tell a long tale.

And if a friend asked me, “how can you dethrone God?”

I would have asked, “Have you seen him lately?” He would say, “No.”

Then I would ask, “Do you see me?” And he would answer, “All the time.”

“Ergo, I have dethroned God.”

It all made perfect sense to me. The argument was flawless, except that it had no logic. Does the absence of the Maker imply absence of power?  How does one control?

Does one reach out and grab you? Can something grab you like that?

The road doesn’t lead to the end here. It will meander back to the beginning.

We build mortuaries, cemeteries, mausoleums, pyramids, ziggurats, and holes in the ground that we call home. We want to be sure that our last sleep is very comfortable. It would be painful to be woken up dead in an uncomfortable place. We all desire comfort in the end after all; so we make sure that when we go see our maker, we are not woken from our deathly dream.

I ask a friend of mine what time she goes to sleep every night.

“Around midnight. Why do you ask?” she asks.

“Just curious. Have you ever thought of death as a long sleep? And that we build mortuaries and all that crap so we won’t be woken up from this long sleep. So, when we meet our Maker, we would be refreshed for a new life.”

She looks at me curiously and taps my head. “Is there something the matter here?”

“I hope not. Otherwise, everything I’ve said is insane!” and I jump up and flap my arms.

Does the absence of reason equate to the absence of faith? Without reason, life would have no sense. Without faith, God would make no sense. So, does reasonable faith imply the meaning of life? If creation were an act of reasonable faith, would that mean that we should have been more faithfully reasonable in the past? And in that, should we have put more reason and faith in God?

What is it with all this mumble jumbo about existence and nonexistence? If something is nonexistent then it doesn’t exist. Therefore, nonexistence doesn’t exist. Existence is all that there is. And in the end you just slip out of it. I am a Parmenedian in nature, but a Heraclitian in spirit.

So, why did Nietzsche write “God is dead”? I know, because we should take morality from within ourselves instead of depending on an external source. Sure, that’s the easy way to read that. How about: the Maker is dead, and anyone that makes is bound to end up dead. That is why we have convents and monasteries.  That is one sure way of keeping God alive. No pun intended.

And with those words Nietzsche really did dethrone God. Idealistically, that is. His revolution exploded like a rose colored nova and twisted into a beautiful funnel shaped thing.

Whatever that was, it’s now gone. Blown to the wind and scattered to the four corners of the Earth. I never realized that a globe could have corners. Are we so archaic that we don’t realize how primitive our vocabulary is? We recycle everything to the point that dead language is revitalized and circulated, again. It is the Aryan nature in us. The belief in reincarnation is a strong one, inherent within our language. It’s the Pan-Indo-European-Semitic tie, with a touch of Creole voodoo. And the supernatural turns natural, and nature becomes extinct.

It’s the age of Aquarius and water will be all around. This is the time of revelations and indifference to material things. Shouldn’t we be praying by our televisions and not be out shopping in the malls?

Life seems different outside. Existence flows in mysterious ways. And the ebb carries us back to the beginning. Now we’re here.

“Hey,” I say to a friend of mine lying across the lawn.

“What,” he mumbles, drowsy from taking in the sun.

“Do you think we live in a materialistic society?”

“We depend on materials to survive. So, we horde things in order to survive.”

“I see. So you think it’s in our nature to be materialistic?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said we need materials to survive. There’s no nature involved here.”

“Ok, I understand. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s not polite to answer obvious questions. It’s demeaning.”

“How?”

“You’re assuming that the questioner doesn’t know the answer. Not to know is not to be wise, as the prophet once said.”

“Which one?”

“The one that wrote a book.”

So, circumlocution puts you back to the beginning. If God is personal, then you can only dethrone your personal God. But, be polite and don’t answer stupid questions. If someone asks you, “do you believe in God?” Just smile and walk away.