The Three Tenets of Existential Terrorism
Words are not things or actions. They are vibrations of the air molecules or squiggles on a page. Mistaking words for reality is the mistake that puts politicians in office and sells all of the products, religions, and systems of government on the planet. Saying "Tree" is no more a tree than saying "I love you" means that someone loves you. To perceive reality as it is, one must accept that words are a vehicle for the transference of our perception of reality, not reality itself.
God is dead. I killed him (it, them, her, et al) on November 5th, 1991. Justifiable Homicide. The idea that the universe is run by some cosmic supra-hero concept of ourselves is absurd and unproven. The idea that the creator of the universe put us here in these bodies to satisfy some moral experiment is offensive. The God question; "What are we doing here?", may or may not be valid. At this time, we are here because the physical laws of the universe are not completely against our existence. Our short time of consciousness would be far better served ensuring our survival rather than posturing before some misanthropic cosmic deity.
The only government, the only rule of law, is economics. However our societies are structured, whatever religion or ethnicity, we have all decided that those with relatively more assets have better lives than those with less relative wealth. All measured value is economic value in this system.
Existence, that is. (Cue Laugh track). It is marvelous that I am a sentient being and can delight in the wonders of the universe that I am both swimming in and part of. However, as I look at the inevitable from the prospective of a 52 year old, it becomes more imperative to deal with the Cosmic Joke being played on us all. The meaning we give life, in our imagination or in our daily activities, evaporates when I reflect on the cosmic structure and its absence of promise. I will die along with my sentience and the cosmos will hardly shrug. The universe in universally indifferent. I know this is anthropomorphic, but we have no other perspective. The universe would laugh at the thought of the universe laughing. "Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night", and all acquiesce to the physical night that awaits us. No sleep, no dreams, no God, no ghosts, no heaven, no earth. Nothing but the atomic lattice from which we sprung; unknowing, unconscious.
And then, how do I proceed? The eternal footman will hold my coat and snicker, but I will not be afraid. After the tea and cakes and ices I will laugh also. With apologies to Prufrock, it will have been worth it, after the cups, the marmalade, the tea, when the burden of the meaning of life is cast off like a shawl. I can look at the appearance of life and see the life source, and laugh the laugh of the universe unveiled.
