I'm sick of God being thought of as a being. Even people who no longer think that God is a big person in the sky still use personal, anthropocentric language of God. "God does this, God is that, God listens to prayer," and on, and on. And it strikes me that while the mystics generally claim that God is a word that points to the --- that cannot be spoken about or named, this --- is so difficult to talk about that 'God' quite quickly re-enters the stage, and, at least in the popular realm, God is again brought back into the 'big person' model.
Most recent theology has headed towards panentheism - all is in God. But this isn't always explained, so I'm going to have a go, starting from human experience.
We often assume that God has a consciousness, just as we do. But why? This is (human)consciousness-centric, and human-style consciousness is surely just a recent thing on the evolutionary stage, something that can be seen in homo sapians and not much else. If God is to be seen to be something existing prior to humans, then surely God should not be primarily modelled off of human experience so directly (can we really escape this completely?).
How does a rabbit think? Or a dog? Certainly animals don't think as humans do (although some may assume they do). They have a different consciousness, a consciousness that isn't (as) self-aware. If a dog were to have a God, then the dog's God certainly wouldn't be assumed to have a human-style consciousness. But if humans have free will, then it also seems that the animals would. Indeed, fruit flies do.
What about a plant? It experiences life, and is somewhat aware of its surroundings. It 'knows' when light is shining on it. It is somehow aware of where water is, and where to send its roots. It probably even experiences the pain of the loss of its parts as something eats it or cuts it down.
And so to the pebble. Now you're probably thinking that it's ridiculous to suggest that a pebble experiences its surroundings. But it most certainly does. It experiences the pull of the earth that we have named gravity. It is aware of the rocks below it that holds it in place.
But lets go more basic, to the electron. Is an electron conscious? Yes. In a way. It is conscious that there is a proton nearby, and that it holds an attraction for this proton, and so feels temporarily attracted to it. It feels the other electrons in orbit around the common nucleus. It experiences the close encounter with another atom that approaches, and develops a relationship with it so it shares its time between nuclei. (And as it jumps in and out of existence, maybe even the electron makes decisions and exercises a limited amount of free will?) So even very small things have a certain kind of consciousness, although that word is probably inappropriate for it. But we lack words to describe an electron's experience.
Now lets get big. The earth has been seen more and more in recent times as a single organism. It has long been worshipped as a goddess, mother earth, and it has recently been called Gaia. The earth can be seen to be a single, complex organism, with an incredible variety and quantity of internal and external relationships. And the earth, Gaia, is often seen to be conscious. She is reacting against the industrial pollution of her atmosphere, getting angry and sending storms. But in that last sentence, I personified the earth, making it a her, and using her as the subject of my sentence, the one doing the acting. As a subject, I granted her agency, and to have agency indicates freedom.
And now the universe. By universe, I'm talking about the biggest 'all' that is. As far as I know, that means I'm talking about something that is about 13 billion years old, and probably almost as many light years across. Brian Swimme in The Universe is a Green Dragon pictures the universe as, well, a green dragon. And here (0:11:25), he talks about the universe as having a purpose, in some ways, consciously choosing to head towards greater richness.
But I don't want to talk about the universe's consciousness. That sounds too anthropocentric to me. So I'm going to compile 4 words into one, in order to try to talk about this. Freedom, consciousness, awareness, and experience. Fre-consc-ware-ience. This is my proposed word that allows us to talk about God in a panentheistic schema, so that God can still be talked about, and yet is not done so in an overly anthropocentric/consciousness-centric way. God is the freconscwareience of the universe.
Something to take from this is that God decides the overall purpose of existence. And God, the freconscwareience of the universe, seems to generally choose to go down paths of greater complexity and greater diversity. I've not worked out much more, but complexity and diversity seem to be favoured. Not always. But often. And so, if I am to work alongside God (and not against the universe's freconscwareience), I should also work towards greater complexity and diversity. In this, I find a great deal of guidance.
This plays out in many ways. I encourage religious diversity, and work on the side of causes that try to protect the diversity of species on earth (opposing extinction). I work to protect freedom of expression, and immerse myself in diverse arts. I appreciate different languages, different cultures, and different customs, and hope that they do not become assimilated into my own, losing their uniqueness and identity. I try to have deep, complex relationships with my friends (although they are sometimes exhausting and so I also seek simplicity). I reject simple schemas, quick-fix promises, and paths that overly limit options. I reject stereotypes, and always try to work out how someone could hold the beliefs that they do, only dismissing someone after a great deal of exploration into their world (if ever). I am suspicious of simple answers, and dislike one-size-fits-all solutions. Cookie-cut houses, offices and shops are not my thing. Findings in science are exciting, and quantum physics often helps to show the complexity of life. But science has also gone beyond a suitable level of complexity: we should stop experiments that could create a black hole (we'd all die), we should stop experiments into robotic-free-will (read most sci-fi to see the tyranny of robot-rule (Asimov, Dune, Battlestar Galatica, etc.)), we should slow down research on genetics, and we should greatly reduce neuroscience research, as the possibilities of mind-reading (removal of privacy) and mind-manipulation (removal of free-will) are too scary. But we shouldn't stop all scientific research (I don't think), as complexity is good. It's just that sometimes we're not ready for it. I encourage people to read more, and to write more - create stories, create theories, invent words. Grappling with ideas and thinking about philosophical and psychological issues tends towards complexity. I encourage people to learn about soil, the most complex and diverse substance on planet earth, and as a bonus it will make you happy.
But in all this, I am merely trying to work in the same direction as God, the universe's freconscwareience.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Two thought-webs
I believe there are two kinds of people in the world: those who assume everyone thinks more-or-less like them, and those who acknowledge that everyone and everything thinks infinitely and sublimely differently. I don't often make claims like this, categorising all humanity into two groups, but I believe this is a somewhat useful distinction to make. I have been both of those people, moving from the first to the second. I believe the acknowledgement of the second type requires a kind of deeper-consciousness. Or at least, it did for me. My world is opened up in variety, complexity and beauty because of it. Let me explain these in order.
The first one I experienced most when I was in fundie-college. At that point, everyone thought alike. It was a simple world, a world in which everyone could say the same thing (e.g. a statement of faith) and mean the same thing (unless you really thought about it, and that was discouraged). Religion could quite easily be based off the idea that people could believe exactly the same thing (although the increasingly-exclusive Fundamentalists at the start of the 20th century seemed to indicate otherwise). And since your friends all thought the same way as you did, you could easily establish relations with them that didn't require much depth to develop 'true' communication. Indeed, it confused me that miscommunication happened at all.
In fact, life was quite confusing. But it wasn't a confusion you worried about, and tried to understand. It was a confusion you tried to fix. For example, I could not understand how it is possible for a man to love a man. It was so far out of my experience that I was quite frankly confused by it. Why would anyone want to live that way? How is it possible? On the other hand, it was easier for me to imagine a woman loving a woman, because I loved women. For a woman to love a woman meant that the woman was like me, which made sense. Of course, it made sense also that women would love men, because I love 'the other sex', and so it was just mirroring that. This resulted in a weird quadruple-standard. 1. Men loving women was normal. 2. Women loving men was simply a reflection of that. 3. Women loving women was understandable, probably wrong, but when I admitted it, somewhat exciting (lesbianism is OK if men get to watch - as long as men gain pleasure). 4. Men loving men was completely wrong. But not just wrong. It was incomprehensible, unnatural, inconceivable, detestable. Because for a man to love a man meant that they must think completely differently from me, and that just wasn't a possible part of how I believed existence to be. They didn't fit within the understandable world, and so they needed to be brought into my world, they needed to be 'fixed'.
My acknowledgement that everyone thinks infinitely sublimely differently emerged over time and involved many sources. As well as discussions with friends, inspiration came from philosophical books that discuss how animals think and experience the world (such as Berry and Swimme's The Universe Story, Barry Allen's Knowledge and Civilization and Langer's Philosophy in a New Key), Keller's book on relationship called From a Broken Web, along with literature like Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being. These books opened up the thoughts of others to me in two ways: 1. The way something thinks and experiences the world is intimately tied to its brain/consciousness, and 2. Every moment brings with it the complex web of previous experiences, through memory, and everyone's life experiences are amazingly varied and different.
The first of these may be brought out by asking how the first, single-cell organisms 'thought' (see The Universe Story for a more detailed examination). This first life provided the universe with an amazing accomplishment: memory. These first cells had the memory to know how they were created, and so could replicate themselves. They knew how to bring together groups of molecules in such a way that they could form them together to be chemical-copies of themselves. These tiny creatures worked at the molecular level, taking amino acids and changing them, giving them the spark of lightning-life that they themselves were 'born' from. How did they feel? How do they experience the world? Certainly not in a empirical or rational scientific way (these being recent human creations). Without nerve endings, they didn't experience touch in the same way that I do. Maybe scent gets closer, sniffing out the suitable amino acids, and knittings them together so they may pass the spark of life on. But it certainly isn't scent in the same way that I smell. Indeed, their experience of life is amazingly different from my experience, and that difference comes out in their experience of other lives, other life-forms, other sensations and sense, and other ways of appreciating time. A lead-on and provocative question that stems from this might be, How does a photon experience existence and time?
The second opening up of my experience comes from the recognition that everyone brings a great deal of 'baggage' to every experience, through memory. In this sense, baggage is not necessarily bad (or good), but it is always limiting - baggage means I experience the world in this way, and not your way, not that way, not any other way. The baggage I refer to are the relationships and associations I draw between the present experience and the past experiences that I relate to the present. If someone says 'snake', every person present will immediately connect it with multiple associations and think of completely different, highly nuanced things. One person may think of the time when they were bitten by a snake, connect that experience to the biblical serpent in Genesis, relate that to temptation and evil (through the teachings they have heard (through language)), and before they can say anything they shudder with disgust. At the same time, another person may immediately think of their pet snake. This sends them off into thinking about the religious symbolism of snakes from a different tradition, where the shedding of skin symbolises new life and the shedding of old habits, which the person then relates to escape from oppressive conservativism, and so they're response comes out in a smile and a sentence, "I love snakes, they're so beautiful." With just a single word, two very different responses are evoked.
The possible difference in experience between humans is of an amazing magnitude of diversity. This can especially come out in the experience of time. Where one person sees time as a succession of 'now's, so that "one, two, three" occurred in different times and places (my experience when at fundie-college), another person can view time as a single, monistic, and eternal 'now' (more like my experience now, through the influence of Robinson's Thou Who Art, Buber's I and Thou, and a great deal of (Christian) liberation and aboriginal writing). In this eternal Now, freedom is in the decisions I make, yet they would always disappear into non-existence, except for memory. Memory preserves the no-longer by making it re-membered in the Now, and so re-membering is a very active, creative decision, allowing the otherwise-no-longer to affect the Now and so to have a continued existence (although in that existence it is ever changing as its re-membering fluctuates in the fractalic complexity of universe). Yet I also believe that these are just two ways to experience time that I have had, and that not only are there other ways, but that everyone's and everythings ways are different.
However, I won't leave this blog with the fundie-college in too bad of a light (see, light can be bad, again - also see Mollenkott's chapter, Godding in the Dark). For it's not just fundie-college that goes with the first assumption. It is also the common liberal stance. You've heard it: "Christian fundamentalists are just deceitful, they know that they're preaching is a lie." But that isn't the case. Speaking as a recovering one, I know I was not lying when I spoke - I believed it, it was true. I thought differently from 'liberals', and so would have been put into the same 'inconceivable' category that I then put gays in. The typical liberal cannot understand fundamentalists in a very similar way that fundamentalists cannot understand gays, because the assumption of both liberals and fundies is that everyone thinks just like me.
Maybe the fact that I separate humanity into two categories (rather than allowing for the 6 billion categories I really need), undermines my claim that I acknowledge that everyone thinks differently. But I advance this idea as a heuristic tool, as a way to help people think, so that they may better understand the world from their own, unique, and infinitely complex perspective. Don't dismiss someone because they're in the first group - their experience is more nuanced than anyone could ever define.
The first one I experienced most when I was in fundie-college. At that point, everyone thought alike. It was a simple world, a world in which everyone could say the same thing (e.g. a statement of faith) and mean the same thing (unless you really thought about it, and that was discouraged). Religion could quite easily be based off the idea that people could believe exactly the same thing (although the increasingly-exclusive Fundamentalists at the start of the 20th century seemed to indicate otherwise). And since your friends all thought the same way as you did, you could easily establish relations with them that didn't require much depth to develop 'true' communication. Indeed, it confused me that miscommunication happened at all.
In fact, life was quite confusing. But it wasn't a confusion you worried about, and tried to understand. It was a confusion you tried to fix. For example, I could not understand how it is possible for a man to love a man. It was so far out of my experience that I was quite frankly confused by it. Why would anyone want to live that way? How is it possible? On the other hand, it was easier for me to imagine a woman loving a woman, because I loved women. For a woman to love a woman meant that the woman was like me, which made sense. Of course, it made sense also that women would love men, because I love 'the other sex', and so it was just mirroring that. This resulted in a weird quadruple-standard. 1. Men loving women was normal. 2. Women loving men was simply a reflection of that. 3. Women loving women was understandable, probably wrong, but when I admitted it, somewhat exciting (lesbianism is OK if men get to watch - as long as men gain pleasure). 4. Men loving men was completely wrong. But not just wrong. It was incomprehensible, unnatural, inconceivable, detestable. Because for a man to love a man meant that they must think completely differently from me, and that just wasn't a possible part of how I believed existence to be. They didn't fit within the understandable world, and so they needed to be brought into my world, they needed to be 'fixed'.
My acknowledgement that everyone thinks infinitely sublimely differently emerged over time and involved many sources. As well as discussions with friends, inspiration came from philosophical books that discuss how animals think and experience the world (such as Berry and Swimme's The Universe Story, Barry Allen's Knowledge and Civilization and Langer's Philosophy in a New Key), Keller's book on relationship called From a Broken Web, along with literature like Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being. These books opened up the thoughts of others to me in two ways: 1. The way something thinks and experiences the world is intimately tied to its brain/consciousness, and 2. Every moment brings with it the complex web of previous experiences, through memory, and everyone's life experiences are amazingly varied and different.
The first of these may be brought out by asking how the first, single-cell organisms 'thought' (see The Universe Story for a more detailed examination). This first life provided the universe with an amazing accomplishment: memory. These first cells had the memory to know how they were created, and so could replicate themselves. They knew how to bring together groups of molecules in such a way that they could form them together to be chemical-copies of themselves. These tiny creatures worked at the molecular level, taking amino acids and changing them, giving them the spark of lightning-life that they themselves were 'born' from. How did they feel? How do they experience the world? Certainly not in a empirical or rational scientific way (these being recent human creations). Without nerve endings, they didn't experience touch in the same way that I do. Maybe scent gets closer, sniffing out the suitable amino acids, and knittings them together so they may pass the spark of life on. But it certainly isn't scent in the same way that I smell. Indeed, their experience of life is amazingly different from my experience, and that difference comes out in their experience of other lives, other life-forms, other sensations and sense, and other ways of appreciating time. A lead-on and provocative question that stems from this might be, How does a photon experience existence and time?
The second opening up of my experience comes from the recognition that everyone brings a great deal of 'baggage' to every experience, through memory. In this sense, baggage is not necessarily bad (or good), but it is always limiting - baggage means I experience the world in this way, and not your way, not that way, not any other way. The baggage I refer to are the relationships and associations I draw between the present experience and the past experiences that I relate to the present. If someone says 'snake', every person present will immediately connect it with multiple associations and think of completely different, highly nuanced things. One person may think of the time when they were bitten by a snake, connect that experience to the biblical serpent in Genesis, relate that to temptation and evil (through the teachings they have heard (through language)), and before they can say anything they shudder with disgust. At the same time, another person may immediately think of their pet snake. This sends them off into thinking about the religious symbolism of snakes from a different tradition, where the shedding of skin symbolises new life and the shedding of old habits, which the person then relates to escape from oppressive conservativism, and so they're response comes out in a smile and a sentence, "I love snakes, they're so beautiful." With just a single word, two very different responses are evoked.
The possible difference in experience between humans is of an amazing magnitude of diversity. This can especially come out in the experience of time. Where one person sees time as a succession of 'now's, so that "one, two, three" occurred in different times and places (my experience when at fundie-college), another person can view time as a single, monistic, and eternal 'now' (more like my experience now, through the influence of Robinson's Thou Who Art, Buber's I and Thou, and a great deal of (Christian) liberation and aboriginal writing). In this eternal Now, freedom is in the decisions I make, yet they would always disappear into non-existence, except for memory. Memory preserves the no-longer by making it re-membered in the Now, and so re-membering is a very active, creative decision, allowing the otherwise-no-longer to affect the Now and so to have a continued existence (although in that existence it is ever changing as its re-membering fluctuates in the fractalic complexity of universe). Yet I also believe that these are just two ways to experience time that I have had, and that not only are there other ways, but that everyone's and everythings ways are different.
However, I won't leave this blog with the fundie-college in too bad of a light (see, light can be bad, again - also see Mollenkott's chapter, Godding in the Dark). For it's not just fundie-college that goes with the first assumption. It is also the common liberal stance. You've heard it: "Christian fundamentalists are just deceitful, they know that they're preaching is a lie." But that isn't the case. Speaking as a recovering one, I know I was not lying when I spoke - I believed it, it was true. I thought differently from 'liberals', and so would have been put into the same 'inconceivable' category that I then put gays in. The typical liberal cannot understand fundamentalists in a very similar way that fundamentalists cannot understand gays, because the assumption of both liberals and fundies is that everyone thinks just like me.
Maybe the fact that I separate humanity into two categories (rather than allowing for the 6 billion categories I really need), undermines my claim that I acknowledge that everyone thinks differently. But I advance this idea as a heuristic tool, as a way to help people think, so that they may better understand the world from their own, unique, and infinitely complex perspective. Don't dismiss someone because they're in the first group - their experience is more nuanced than anyone could ever define.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Unbearable Shitlessness
'Shitlessness' is the forgotten definition of kitsch. Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being includes a section that details this. To put it another way, Kitsch is a world without shit. Kitsch isn't just those idyllic pictures of landscapes with cottages in the snow, kitsch is the political speech made to win you over - the world of the political ideal, where the shit of life does not exist. In those speeches, shit is reduced to nothing so that man can build his foundation of a good society.
But we must not be fooled, for shit is essential. Shit, decay and death are parts of life that will always be. Any political vision of the future worth listening to will talk about shit. For shit does not just means the sewage system, that we would sooner forget about than remember, shit connotes the 'shit' parts of life. There is shit in all our relationships, our food, our economy, our thoughts, our health.
In the SCA, I heard the following statement: "we're recreating the past 'as it should have been', no pests, no disease, and no prejudice." This is one of the clearest examples of shitlessness, or kitsch. Re-enactment groups will inevitably make kitsch. The worlds they build will be kitsch, for the shit takes place in the rest of the year when they are not '(re-en)acting'. This is the principal reason why these people (of whom I am currently one) do not attempt to live in this enjoyable way in the rest of their lives. They know it to be impossible, for it does not take account of the shit.
I'm now going to quote a part of Kundera's book that is important to me, if unrelated to the above:
But we must not be fooled, for shit is essential. Shit, decay and death are parts of life that will always be. Any political vision of the future worth listening to will talk about shit. For shit does not just means the sewage system, that we would sooner forget about than remember, shit connotes the 'shit' parts of life. There is shit in all our relationships, our food, our economy, our thoughts, our health.
In the SCA, I heard the following statement: "we're recreating the past 'as it should have been', no pests, no disease, and no prejudice." This is one of the clearest examples of shitlessness, or kitsch. Re-enactment groups will inevitably make kitsch. The worlds they build will be kitsch, for the shit takes place in the rest of the year when they are not '(re-en)acting'. This is the principal reason why these people (of whom I am currently one) do not attempt to live in this enjoyable way in the rest of their lives. They know it to be impossible, for it does not take account of the shit.
I'm now going to quote a part of Kundera's book that is important to me, if unrelated to the above:
[An] image comes to mind: Nietzsche leaving his hotel in Turin. Seeing a horse and a coachman beating it with a whip, Nietzsche went up to the horse and, before the coachman's very eyes, put his arms around the horse's neck and burst into tears.I want to become like Nietzsche. I also suggest that you read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. If you've read it, read it again.
That took place in 1889, when Nietzsche, too, had removed himself from the world of people. In other words, it was at the time when his mental illness had just erupted. But for that very reason I feel his gesture has broad implications: Nietzsche was trying to apologize to the horse for Descartes [who held that animals had no soul and were machinae animatae]. His lunacy (that is, his final break with mankind) began at the very moment he burst into tears over the horse.
And that is the Nietzsche I love.... [I see him] stepping down from the road along which mankind, 'the master and proprietor of nature', marches onward.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Rich Fundamentalists as Evil Personified
I've read a few articles of Naomi Klein's new book (read and watch), The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism. It's pretty scary, and I believe she is hitting the nail on the head. Be warned, for you will soon be picking up scraps in war-torn ghettos. You and your children. Unless you are some of the richest few on earth, who have the money to buy the mercenary security to build walls around their homes. And if you are rich, YOU ARE EVIL. That's something I've come realise. I've tried to argue against it, but I have had to finally admit this. To become rich you had to exploit people, to remain rich you have to despise (poorer) people, as you are rich your riches will make you dependent on them, and to hold on to your riches you'll have to be prepared to (hire someone to) kill people - starving people, people fighting for justice, for life, for family, for love, for the destruction of evil. We, the poor, will be fighting the rich because they are/will be the living embodiments of evil. If you are rich, stop being evil - give away your riches and cease your source of income (don't just quit your job, work it out so that your job no longer exists). Heck, I'm just repeating what Jesus said.
The other thing I have gained from these articles (and that's even without reading the book!), is that the whole debate between science and religion is a ruse. It's stupid, and it's fake. The problem is not religion, or lack of, the problem is fundamentalism. But fundamentalism doesn't just come in religious guise. It comes in scientific, it comes in political, it comes in economic. Indeed, economic fundamentalism is what is causing and fuelling Disaster Capitalism. The sphere of life isn't important - fundamentalism can mutilate life and planets through any of them. Fundamentalism is the problem, not religion or science or whatever else. And fundamentalism doesn't care which area of life it hitches a ride on, but it also will steer you and everything around you to hell.
Oh, and high taxes are good. They allow structures to be built for everyone, not just the rich.
The other thing I have gained from these articles (and that's even without reading the book!), is that the whole debate between science and religion is a ruse. It's stupid, and it's fake. The problem is not religion, or lack of, the problem is fundamentalism. But fundamentalism doesn't just come in religious guise. It comes in scientific, it comes in political, it comes in economic. Indeed, economic fundamentalism is what is causing and fuelling Disaster Capitalism. The sphere of life isn't important - fundamentalism can mutilate life and planets through any of them. Fundamentalism is the problem, not religion or science or whatever else. And fundamentalism doesn't care which area of life it hitches a ride on, but it also will steer you and everything around you to hell.
Oh, and high taxes are good. They allow structures to be built for everyone, not just the rich.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Parallel is boring
We live in a time when so much is parallel. Look at your computer screen and count the number of parallel lines. Look at your desk, your window, your room. See how much of your life is parallel.
It's become boring. We talk about a person being square, but I think we should talk about things being parallel in a similar way. A parallel line just imitates the other line it's running parallel to. How boring is that! Accept no imitations!
I strikes me that far too much of this civilisation is based on being parallel. It'd be nice if parallel was exciting, that a steady hand had carefully drawn or crafted the few parallel things I saw. But I see to much. You don't find parallel much in nature. Instead, you find fractal. That's infinitely more interesting!
Parallel is boring.
It's become boring. We talk about a person being square, but I think we should talk about things being parallel in a similar way. A parallel line just imitates the other line it's running parallel to. How boring is that! Accept no imitations!
I strikes me that far too much of this civilisation is based on being parallel. It'd be nice if parallel was exciting, that a steady hand had carefully drawn or crafted the few parallel things I saw. But I see to much. You don't find parallel much in nature. Instead, you find fractal. That's infinitely more interesting!
Parallel is boring.
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