on the way home (again)

I was listening to Bill Bryson today, while preparing to move out of my flat. It was A Short History of Nearly Everything, specifically. I'm looking for a place that I'll call home #6 in about a year and a half of being on the Gold Coast. This almost nomadic-like house hopping is made possible, because, In The Beginning, there was a Big Bang (at least that's generally the consensus on the best way to start the story). Sometimes I genuinely feel the need "to be still and know" that there's something much bigger than myself out there. Some people call it God, I call it the universe. Thanks Bill.

An unfathomable amount of unlikely events have transpired since time has been steadily unfolding at one second per second. One of the unlikely, almost miraculous, results of this combinatorial explosion of possibilities is my existence. Well, pretty much the existence of everything is nigh on miraculous. It all conjures up that age old question: why is there something instead of nothing? Scientists, usually the most ardent supporters of Occham's razor, have a strange and somewhat unexpected answer (if you can call it that). There are infinitely many universes of which ours just happens to be one, and a rare one at that. In our particular permutation, all the elements in play found a delicate balance, such that life was able to emerge. Do not multiply entities unnecessarily, except in the case of universes, I suppose. But back to me ;) Of all the universes in all of the multiverse, of all the atoms in existence, of all the people who ever had sex at one point or another, somehow I won the consciousness lottery (along with 6 billion others and their ancestors). It's amazing. Ahh *pause* and here I am ... Alive.

The reason why this comes as a mildly exultant epiphany at this particular time is because I am concerned that if this truly is the only chance I get -- no doubt my atoms will take on some other form, only without my memories, at the point of my extinction -- then I should probably start enjoying things just a tad more; this is all well and good, but it has come to my attention that I have certain issues that need processing that are, at present, inhibiting my ability to do so. I am a bitter ex-Mormon, with a raging hard-on for atheism. Now there's nothing wrong with the latter part of that statement, except possibly the word choice, but I feel the ex-Mormon part needs some addressing.

I was under the impression that I had already easily negotiated all 5 stages of grief and even Fowler's 6 stages of faith in less than 3.5 seconds (but maybe in regards to the grief, I've been stuck in 1st the entire time: Denial). Given the vastness of my intellect, which by the way, is rivaled only by the immensity of space itself, and my considerably more limited emotional range, I thought that I could put the tragic little episode, popularly known as my Crisis of Faith, behind me, for good, like an unremarkable piece of refuse flushed away and forgotten forever. But I was wrong. Shocking, I know. A good friend of mine from New Zealand, now living in Korea, yes you Justin, has been in contact with me recently over this very blog and the results have been mixed, but usually bad. Bad, because somewhere deep in the recesses of my dark soul, an as yet untapped vein of pent up animosity has been revealed and I haven't handled it well, instead I've started mining. It turns out I'm pissed off, so sometimes I write stupid things like the last post I did (I still held back quite a bit, can't let Mr. ID completely out of the cage. Yet). Call it writing as therapy.

I really thought I was over this. I didn't want this blog to be one of those angry apostate ones. I'm an enlightened individual, above the common pettiness of mere mortals, or so I thought. Perhaps, I somehow managed to ignore the very real pain left in the wake of the upheaval of my entire world. Even convinced myself it wasn't there for a while. I'm good at masking pain (we'll get into that another day), but this time I've really out done myself. If the catholic church has taught me anything it's that when you suppress certain aspects of your humanity that probably should be expressed, sometimes they manifest themselves anyway in unwanted and very repulsive ways (there I go, being offensive again). Somebody get me a fixer. It might be time that I start dealing with my little problem directly, although I'm not sure what that means yet. So, beware as I get all introspective up in this public space, things could get ugly. I guess I just need to be patient and as excruciating as it is humble, as I try to find a new home (in more ways than one), a new way, a greater peace. Shalom.

a fortnight's worth of profundity

Weird imaginings have been transpiring at the locus of the emergent intelligent realization of my grey matter (um, in other words: my brain). My mind has been a flutter with cross pollinating possibilities. One fantasy world gives way to the next until the boundaries between them blur and I find myself wandering in a strange chimeric wasteland. A lone voice crying in the wilderness "make way, filthy heathens, for the day of Loren is nigh at hand." But what is the cause of this non-drug induced mind expansion? A number of synchronicitous moments have reshaped my now amorphous character. I'm a chameleon ready to adapt to any all circumstances. Behold the makings of a nondescript opportunist...

1. The number one ranked commenter on slimodsoc by sheer volume of words,Justin, challenges me to a duel concerning the validity of witnesses to the BoM, a dialogue that spirals wildly out of control. It however, prompts me to wonder what do I believe. The answer? Nothing.
2. The ever philosophical Andrew S, comments on a post reminding me of a long forgotten uni class I once took, where I learned how David Hume single handedly destroyed the foundations of natural philosophy.

3. I read Zen and the Art of Happiness, and The Life of Pi. By their powers combined, I'm almost convinced that the stories we tell ourselves are more important than their Truth value.
4. I watch Inception, Blade Runner and the first two seasons of Breaking Bad. I can't articulate how these reconcile with the other trans-formative points except to say they are some of the most fucking awesome things I've ever seen.

And that's the pervading theme of the last two weeks for me. Everything is marvelous and everything is bullshit. We need not get angry if some one else's bullshit smells or looks different from ours. Let them wallow in it. I am not above wallowing in it myself. In fact I welcome this prospect. Letting go of what I usually cling to has been completely liberating. Taking ownership of beliefs that I am diametrically opposed to has done wonders for my empathy. I am a comic book writer. This has been the greatest quantum leap in the craft that I have ever achieved. I can step into another persons shoes without maintaining absolute or even a little contempt for them, and sometimes I can almost convince myself that what they say makes sense on some level. Amazing.

faith, knowledge and the art of confusion 3

part 1 and part 2

Allow me to remove my hardcore atheist hat for a moment. It fit well enough, aside from the flow of blood being cut off to my brain.

"Extreme positions are not succeeded by moderate ones, but by contrary extreme positions." Friedrich Nietzsche, you always know exactly the right thing to say. I've gone from mormon true believer to logical positivist (who harbors great sympathy for existentialism), and now traverse a middle way that is a strange extreme of its own. An opposition to oppositions. A state of being where all possibilities exist even if only in one's mind. I am a walking talking Hegelian dialectic.

The human capacity for self deception is nearly infinite. Why not exploit this fact? The grand narratives have failed us. God [the unreliable narrator] is dead. All that is left is chaos and our predilection to impose order. Indulgence of personal bias is the apotheosis of autotelic experience. Walk in a waking dream. We live in postmodernity. Everything is a construct. Everything is a power game. He who writes the rules wins the gold. We see the man behind the curtain and can joyfully embrace the world anyway (after filtering it to conform comfortably to our own specifications).

If you were sick and believed at heart that no cure existed, would you really do all in your power to reclaim your health? There is nobility in striving for the impossible. Lie to yourself, the results may be surprising. All progress through history has been driven by the discoveries of men and women who had faith in an idea that had not yet been proven. This type of unfounded belief may underpin all action that leads to any worthwhile achievement.

There is nothing more satisfying than stating matters of opinion as if they are absolute fact. I create my world one truth or lie at a time, it doesn't much matter which. "If the facts don't fit the theory change the facts." (Will you permit yet another Nietzsche quote?) "there are no truths, only interpretations." We can and do reshape the world in our image. Best then to select a philosophy robust enough to withstand the paradoxes and tensions of a dynamic mode of interface with the universe. Create axioms that need not be self evident, like: Everything that happens to me is for my best benefit. Whether they are true is not as important as if they are useful.

Umm, this is madness. Where did I put my hat?

***

Faith: inventing what is true -- Loren

faith, knowledge and the art of confusion 2

part 1

Let it be known to all nations, kindreds, tongues, and people, this will read like a polemic, but it is not intended to be (overly) offensive. Unable to share my thoughts with anyone on issues that I have surrounding the church of my youth, I have resorted to talking to myself on the internet. Heaven have mercy...

Am I a Son Of Perdition? Most, except those closest to me, would argue no. Have I committed the unpardonable sin of denying the Holy Ghost? An iniquity more egregious than any combination of sex and or violence conceivable (not even virtuoso evil pricks like Stalin, Hitler, or even George Bush have achieved this level of depravity). Not yet. In the mormon cosmological model, there is a special place reserved for these SOPs, the only true and living version of hell ominously called Outer Darkness.

To qualify you have to of course deny Mr. fancy pants look-at-me-I-can-turn-into-a-dove himself. Can you feel the spirit brother? It's a Holy Ghost party up in here. Umm, yeah, the Holy Ghost there's no denying him, but to even attempt such a rash and despicable act you have to first know that the mormon church is true. Joseph Smith described this as looking at the sun (which might make you blind), and denying that it shines, or crucifying the good Lord once again, even while knowing he's the chosen Messiah. That's what it comes down to, you have a sure knowledge that Jesus is Jesus and then you go all Judas Iscariot, on his godly ass. That'll get you a one way ticket to mormon hell my friend.

Now, it's generally accepted that you have to really know, like Generally Authority know*, that the Church is true with absolute certainty to even have the opportunity to become a SOP. Like Jesus has to take a time out from his busy schedule of basking in the eternal worship of his angel sycophants, descend from his throne of glory, and confirm that your calling and election has been made sure by personally delivering your VIP pass to the celestial kingdom, while the Holy Ghost sears a powerful witness of these events into your very soul. It's no easy feat getting into outer darkness let me tell you. You've got to be worthy of heaven, if you want to go to hell.

Most of us fail to attain the aforementioned level of knowing, by which I mean really knowing. For the rank and file members (and probably the overseeing patriarchy as well, although they'd probably never openly admit it) testimony baring is a culturally acceptable form of consolation; a statement professing knowledge of the truthfulness of God, Jesus, the church, Joseph Smith etc. It's the old fake it till you make it gambit, which isn't a bad thing in and of itself. It's a perfectly acceptable form of learning. The question is how many actually make it? You know, gain a sure knowledge of the truth, enough to make them eligible to be condemned to Outer Darkness if they ever fall? Ask any honest mormon and they'll tell you not many if any. Am I a SOP? Hell, no. I only ever believed the church was true, even though I said I knew as much (possibly like everyone else? Hello, emperor, nice clothes you've got there). Belief 0r faith is not the equivalent of certainty, of that I am certain.

*General Authority n. Old mormon guy who resides in the upper echelon of the mormon hierarchy. I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt here, but Boyd K. Packer has hinted that a GAs testimony is no different than a standard members.

TBC

On Matters of Faith 2 The Leap

10,927 days ago since I was alive. 10,000 plus days! That is an achievement I must say. My being alive has little to do with faith, beside the obvious steps that I take to prolong my existence on this miserable piece of dirt we romantic types like to call earth. A more appropriate name would have been water, but the ocean shall have its revenge soon enough I imagine. What with global warming and every other form of full on assault that we've invented, our demise is imminent. But our glorious destruction is still a little ways off and we may not be wholly responsible for rising temperatures or our own destructive tendencies, so my complete condemnation of the human race may be foolhardy and a little presumptuous. After all my desires for apocalypse are counterbalanced by my actions: eating, sleeping, defecating, occasionally bathing and the like, so my nihilism has its limits. 10,000 days aren't enough, whatever I have I want more. Doomsday's around the corner, but I want to be around to see it.

Say I have 10,000 or even 20,000 days of monotonous alienating soul-destroying life left. Imagine the possibilities. This is not to suggest that I'm at all disenchanted with my life, given the alternative I'd opt for the continuation of things as they are. Fortunately other choices are available. Imagine me waking up and wanting to do what I was about to do, because what I do is meaningful. I was fired/let go/downsized/emancipated from my last job, which means I can do whatever I want, I just may have to become homeless to pull it off. I am a philosopher by trade, unfortunately this profession's heyday was something like 2,000 years ago. Society sometimes makes things difficult for me. I will take the leap out in to the darkness. Faith is a choice, a willful act of defiance. I have faith I just don't know if I believe anymore. Only one way to find out.

On Matters of Faith 1

"Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism." -- Chuck Palahniuk (Invisible Monsters)

I'm naturally skeptical (aka pessimistic) about almost everything. If there were no contradictory belief or practice to contradict this one I would sponteaniously cease to be human.

1.All Men have beards

2.Aristotle and Loren Have Beards

3.Therefore Loren and Aristotle are Men

The syllogism is sound, at least one of the premises is untrue while the conclusion is probably true although Aristotle is no longer with us. Yes, even logic can be confusing, but that doesn't mean it is not useful.

Is everything just chemistry and physics subject to reductionist thinking? Was metaphysics 101 a complete waste of time? No.

I don't know what I'm trying to say here. I'll continue tomorrow.