Postcards to say something: 026 – As Others See Us, Darkly…
A renowned philosopher, Jason7463, once wrote the immortal words:
Thats the problem with atheistism,its so damned depressing.Basically says,your fucked so get used to it.
As is so frequently the case with deeper thinkers of this stamp, the wording, punctuation and homophone-swappage is fully sic. Still, let’s transcend that barrier, and look deeply into the void that is “atheistism as seen by Jason7463”.
Firstly there is “atheistism” to consider. I am grateful to Jason7463 for the peculiar wording he has employed in his exposition, as it serves to throw a common error into stark highlight. A person may be an atheist, but to consider atheism as an “-ism” in its own right is to overlook the derivation of the word. A- (meaning “not”) -theism (meaning “believing in a god or gods”) is not a belief, but the rejection of one. To imply that a belief must fill that void is to fall into error. This is usually illustrated by showing that baldness is not a hair colour, and that not collecting stamps is not, in and of itself, a hobby.
Now, is this “absence of belief in a god or gods” as damned depressing as Jason7463 claims? From personal experience and testimonial evidence available, I must say that the opposite applies in the majority of cases. This seems especially true when the subject has experienced belief.
Relieved from the stress of trying to reframe my entire existence to ensure its relative popularity with the invisible distributor of vengeance, largesse and misfortune, and all the forgive me this, show me the way that, and fitting the bigger picture against prophecy… not to mention the sizable cognitive dissonance between “Jesus said” and “Church does”, I am actually beginning to enjoy life.
Of course, we can safely dispense with the “damned” bit…
Basically says,your fucked… I don’t think so. If anything, now that I don’t rely on intangible (and let’s face it, non-manifest) means of support, I tend to plan all details of a project with the most pessimistic outcomes in mind. (The optimum and most likely are also considered: it’s a project management thing.)
The result is a tendency to be more mindful of circumstances and interdependencies: in short, to be careful. I may eventually wind up “fucked”, but entropy guarantees that for everyone.
…so get used to it. The fatalism implicit in such a statement is more indicative of the “let go and let god” type of person. Any situation has options: acceptance, avoidance, negotiation, or even aggression.
I’m alive for now. This is all the life I get, and I’ll play the ball as it lies, go to the clubhouse, or picnic on the fairway if I deem it suitable. I don’t have eternity to waste on harp lessons.
Life is mostly okay, and there’s plenty undone yet. “Used to it”? Only a person who missed a lot of interesting stuff could say that.
Postcards to say something: 013a – Exhilarating Mountain Air
Danny Nutjob Nalliah is ready to go “Ooga-booga-pappa-oom-mow-mow!” atop a Canberra scenic lookout, to keep the invisible bogeymen from eating our crops, stealing our shoes and souring the milk.
This has caused some amusement in certain journalistic circles.
There is no proof that the “sacrifice” was blood in the first place (and eyewitnesses to the suspect stain have said it looked more like nasty cask red spilled by a nocturnal sightseer).
Let us not forget that one of the maddies, wending his way up the hill with figurative pitchfork and pine-tar torch aloft, will be Senator-for-now Fielding. Note to all readers, even our more rational believer friends: Fielding and his like must not be allowed to happen again.
A bounty of five papal indulgences is offered for each demon-scalp presented to the editorial desk at Black Tower (or leave scalps, individually wrapped, at reception in Legion HQ, Sydney, but be sure to ask for a receipt).
Disclaimer: The bounty for demon-scalps is subsidised by a grant from Catch The Liar Ministries.
Postcards to say something 008
Thanks to reader Nerdiah for another fine submission. As the Big Sell enters Phase II, no doubt telly sets will be proclaiming “Jeebus has cancers”. Darling little cells: what an expression of divine love they turned out to be.
Still, keep your eyes on the hot chips and birds in pants: Jeebus only gets the good bits, and you can blame the rest on the Bad Fairy.