If I ever have enough disposable income to pay the extra fee for a personalized license plate, I would want that plate to say: ABSURD. I think that would be a cool word to have, and I like it because it has sort of a "mundane" meaning (aren't personalized plates a little absurd?) and a deeper, more "philosophical" meaning (isn't human existence a little absurd?).
Absurdity. Get used to it. Because the dominant competing paradigm just doesn't make a lot of sense. That paradigm--at least the more extreme version--proposes that life has inherent meaning because God has a plan for you. Now, how we are supposed to DETERMINE what that "plan" involves is certainly elusive--at best, we can maybe "look at the signs" and make inferences. But in the end, the plan is almost impossible to discern, unless one regards every moment in life as de facto evidence of a "plan." (I got an "A" in math? God must want me to be a math teacher! I vomited after eating a porterhouse? God must want me to be a vegetarian! The guys in the locker room love my ballads in the shower? God must want me to be a singer! There is no end to such speculation.)
Equally problematic to me are the many things in life that make no sense whatsoever and couldn't possibly be part of a plan by any loving, omniscient being. This week, a lovely actress, Natasha Richardson, died after a skiing accident, an accident that seemed relatively innocuous at first. So what part of the "plan" was that? Was it a plan for Natasha? A message to her husband, actor Liam Neeson? A message to the couple's two young sons? If God's plan for Natasha was to have her die an untimely death at the age of 45, in the peak of her life, leaving a husband and two sons to grieve, I'd say that ain't much of a plan. I think I could do better.
And if all that wasn't sufficiently problematic, how can life really HAVE any meaning if everything is already planned? If all I am doing is trying to "follow God's plan," then I am essentially a kind of marionette or puppet, doing what God has already determined I should be doing in the first place--and what kind of life is that? And again, how do I even know if I'm "doing it right" to begin with? And where does "free will" come in? Do I necessarily have to agree with God's plan? As long as I'm not hurting anyone else, can't I have my OWN plan? I just think there are too many problems with the "plan" idea, whether that plan is micromanaging our lives or merely involves painting the canvas with a broader brush.
Absurdity. Accept it. Embrace it. It's really not so bad once you get used to it. (Keep chanting this with John Lennon's song "Imagine" playing in the background.) An absurd view of the world makes life all at once clearer, sweeter, more liberating, more amusing, more bizarre, and more tragic. But there is in the end no totally satisfactory answer to the dilemmas of human existence. Even the concept of absurdity is, well, a little absurd.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Eternity Bites: Part 2
As long as I'm thinking about eternity (see previous post), it's hard to resist thinking about the notion that in one's afterlife, there will be 72 virgins awaiting the virtuous--an idea that is subscribed to in some small corners of Islam. Now, the quotation below may not be suitable for the youngsters--so send them off for some milk and cookies! But, according to WikiIslam (OK, it's apparently like Wikipedia, but I think Wikipedia is somewhat over-criticized):
This concept [of the 72 virgins] is also quoted in the Tafsir ibn Kathir (Qur'anic Commentary) of Surah, the work of Ibn Kathir (Qur'an 55:72). Orthodox Muslim theologians such as al Ghazali (died 1111 CE) and Al-Ash'ari (died 935 CE) have "admitted sensual pleasures into paradise." The sensual pleasures are graphically elaborated by Al-Suyuti (died 1505), Koranic commentator and polymath. He wrote:
"Each time we sleep with a Houri we find her virgin. Besides, the penis of the Elected never softens. The erection is eternal; the sensation that you feel each time you make love is utterly delicious and out of this world and were you to experience it in this world you would faint. Each chosen one [i.e. Muslim] will marry seventy [sic] houris, besides the women he married on earth, and all will have appetising vaginas."
Well, thanks for sharing, Mr. Al-Suyuti. I do worry about the idea that "the penis of the Elected never softens"--seems to me if that happens on Earth for more than 4 hours that we're supposed to seek medical help! Ah, the joys and sorrows of an Eternal Erection.
But, I'm not really here to make cheap, cheesy jokes. (Well, maybe I am.) But if I have a serious point, it is how utterly human and flawed is our sense of eternity. Will 72 virgins be sufficient for billions of years? What about the virgins themselves--is THEIR idea of paradise to have endless sexual relations with Old Geezers like me? (Don't answer that--it's a rhetorical question.) And what about the women in the afterlife? Are there 72 randy 16-year-old boys waiting for them in paradise? The more one thinks about all these things, the more utterly absurd they seem to be.
But the absurdity is by no means limited to the Islamic world. The person I took to prom when I was in 11th grade has written a book titled "The Antichrist Spirit in America." And in the preface to that book, she says that she knows there is a heaven, that God is sitting in heaven, and that He has a book--literally a book, mind you--which already has her name written in it. She has, apparently, a free pass, and the papers to prove it! When she enters the pearly gates, she should be sure to get a receipt.
Whoever you may be: I'm eternally grateful that you've read this! And that's really saying something.
This concept [of the 72 virgins] is also quoted in the Tafsir ibn Kathir (Qur'anic Commentary) of Surah, the work of Ibn Kathir (Qur'an 55:72). Orthodox Muslim theologians such as al Ghazali (died 1111 CE) and Al-Ash'ari (died 935 CE) have "admitted sensual pleasures into paradise." The sensual pleasures are graphically elaborated by Al-Suyuti (died 1505), Koranic commentator and polymath. He wrote:
"Each time we sleep with a Houri we find her virgin. Besides, the penis of the Elected never softens. The erection is eternal; the sensation that you feel each time you make love is utterly delicious and out of this world and were you to experience it in this world you would faint. Each chosen one [i.e. Muslim] will marry seventy [sic] houris, besides the women he married on earth, and all will have appetising vaginas."
Well, thanks for sharing, Mr. Al-Suyuti. I do worry about the idea that "the penis of the Elected never softens"--seems to me if that happens on Earth for more than 4 hours that we're supposed to seek medical help! Ah, the joys and sorrows of an Eternal Erection.
But, I'm not really here to make cheap, cheesy jokes. (Well, maybe I am.) But if I have a serious point, it is how utterly human and flawed is our sense of eternity. Will 72 virgins be sufficient for billions of years? What about the virgins themselves--is THEIR idea of paradise to have endless sexual relations with Old Geezers like me? (Don't answer that--it's a rhetorical question.) And what about the women in the afterlife? Are there 72 randy 16-year-old boys waiting for them in paradise? The more one thinks about all these things, the more utterly absurd they seem to be.
But the absurdity is by no means limited to the Islamic world. The person I took to prom when I was in 11th grade has written a book titled "The Antichrist Spirit in America." And in the preface to that book, she says that she knows there is a heaven, that God is sitting in heaven, and that He has a book--literally a book, mind you--which already has her name written in it. She has, apparently, a free pass, and the papers to prove it! When she enters the pearly gates, she should be sure to get a receipt.
Whoever you may be: I'm eternally grateful that you've read this! And that's really saying something.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Eternity: It's Not All That It's Cracked Up to Be
When the kids were little, we used to read them a book about the Berenstain Bears, the title of which was Too Much Birthday. The jist of the story, as I remember it, is that one of the bear cubs enjoyed his birthday so much that he wanted EVERY day to be his birthday. After all, there are presents, and games, and cake!
And so the parents obliged. The next day, they had another birthday party. And darn if the cake didn't still taste good--maybe not quite as good as the first day, but still good. And on the third day, with the third birthday party, some of the presents weren't quite as special, and the cake was even a little less tasty. Well, perhaps you see where this is going: by about the fifth day of this continuous revelry, the cub was ready to call it quits--he had, in essence, Too Much Birthday.
Hmm. There may be a lesson here. Many people claim to either want eternal life or believe that they will be "rewarded" with eternal life. With the Berenstain Bears in mind, be careful what you wish for!
It's very hard to get a mental handle on the concept of eternity, just as the concept of "infinity" boggles the mind. But it's important to try. If you have eternal life, that means that you will be "alive" in the year 3256, the year 32,256, and the year 32,556,668,994,331,440,227,749,225,057,939,641--and beyond! Now, what are you going to be doing for eternity? Are there elaborate buffets, or lots of board games, or endless re-runs of Gilligan's Island? (If there are buffets, I hope they have both pizza and potato salad.) What in the heck would one DO for eternity? And if there is nothing to do, and one is simply in a sort of "state," what would be the joy in being in that perpetual state for BILLIONS of years? Wouldn't it get kind of "old"?
Our lives are defined by limits and boundaries. If everything was infinite, it would cease to be meaningful. We cherish life for that very reason. And while it's perfectly "normal" to want to exist forever, forever is a really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really long time.
And so the parents obliged. The next day, they had another birthday party. And darn if the cake didn't still taste good--maybe not quite as good as the first day, but still good. And on the third day, with the third birthday party, some of the presents weren't quite as special, and the cake was even a little less tasty. Well, perhaps you see where this is going: by about the fifth day of this continuous revelry, the cub was ready to call it quits--he had, in essence, Too Much Birthday.
Hmm. There may be a lesson here. Many people claim to either want eternal life or believe that they will be "rewarded" with eternal life. With the Berenstain Bears in mind, be careful what you wish for!
It's very hard to get a mental handle on the concept of eternity, just as the concept of "infinity" boggles the mind. But it's important to try. If you have eternal life, that means that you will be "alive" in the year 3256, the year 32,256, and the year 32,556,668,994,331,440,227,749,225,057,939,641--and beyond! Now, what are you going to be doing for eternity? Are there elaborate buffets, or lots of board games, or endless re-runs of Gilligan's Island? (If there are buffets, I hope they have both pizza and potato salad.) What in the heck would one DO for eternity? And if there is nothing to do, and one is simply in a sort of "state," what would be the joy in being in that perpetual state for BILLIONS of years? Wouldn't it get kind of "old"?
Our lives are defined by limits and boundaries. If everything was infinite, it would cease to be meaningful. We cherish life for that very reason. And while it's perfectly "normal" to want to exist forever, forever is a really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really long time.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)