Telling the Truth about Immortality II

Deconstruction of a Definition

According to wikipedia,
a. Myths are stories that a particular culture
believes to be true
b. & that use the supernatural
c. to interpret natural events
& to explain
d. the nature of the universe and humanity.

As good a definition as any

A. Myths are the creation of storytellers,
their existence only between pages
or in the humming vibration of oration
read to enlighten & amuse & terrify
a snapshot of a community
that harbor’s it’s own creator.

Regardless of the subject matter,
myths themselves are manifestations
of someone’s own fancy
though their creator may populate the work
with local heroes, legends, & Gods
they are secondhand replications
produced by the artist’s
singular interpretation.
i.e.

The well established
polytheistic religion of the Hellenic Republic
existed before, above, & throughout
Homer’s epic works.

Homer may have influenced the views
of those followers with his interpretation
of the God’s roles in living history.

But his work was nowhere considered doctrine
it didn’t need to be
to be effective.
The belief from which his stories
drew their models
proceeded his personal inception
in both time & influence.

Never had his Myths
shared the same space
as the devotion he laid
before his belief’s own being.

B. The Supernatural, also by wiki, is defined
as pertaining to an imagined order of existence
beyond the scientifically visible universe.

So, man is of nature,
he percieves as an animal might
though,
his awareness seperates him
from the beastial
there is a sense of self
& so also,
an environment which houses it.

He is not a part of his surroundings,
he negotiates with his surroundings
& so his perception
is dependant on the physical world
for it permits his sense of self
to exist independantly.

Because the awareness of existence
contains the awareness of self
existence then contains self
& self’s own distinctive properties.
i.e.

All ideas of faith & belief,
the concept of truth,
science dependant
on individually recorded & verified findings,
personality,
civilization,
justice,
probability,
& percievable fact.

Man’s conception of the universe
is foremost dependant
on man’s internalization
of his existence.

Nature, no less, a human construct,
so that which is Supernatural
(latin: supra "above" + natura "nature")
is above human conception.

C. When man aims to explain
the physical world
he gathers evidence,
relates the evidence to what he knows to be true,
& draws conclusions
from what he can percieve in the difference.

If myths wish to explain
that which is above human conception
then the artist gathers evidence
from all that can be ascertained,
relates that evidence
to their internalized construct of truth,
& draws conclusions
from what they percieve in the difference.

Therefore myth is the result
of the artist’s personal interpretation
of their belief in the supernatural
(all that is inconceivable)
as it relates to the accepted truths
of their personal sense of existence
(all that is conceivable)
to finally,
examine the overlay.
i.e.

The truth which is known but not understood
The actions devoid of reason
The effects which bear no consequence

D. The nature of the universe and humanity,
as far as the Mythologer is concerned,
pivots on a single point
within the grey resolve of reasoning,
where the unexplainable
& the inconceivable
meet
& expose everything
& nothing
simultaneously.
i.e.

A man standing on the rock face
eyes wide
but unafraid & without shock
The air feels like rain in the summer
usually does along the equator
damp & cool in the 8pm sun
It’s still too warm for his raincoat
in the floating rain.

A space without reason for heroes
& without reason for malice & greed
& heartache & looming pride
a reasonless world

The universe is extracted
into each bolt of lightning
that strikes the dry brush
or strikes the deep water
or strikes a man dead
or strikes him to no effect

These things are without reason
yet our historical & modern myth makers
have insisted on assigning reason to each
falling tree or squaking bird
& offering some antropomorphic entity
as a likely enough culprit.

& our Mythologer understands this.

When explaining the unexplainable
a representation or model
is often the most effective tool available
to express the unexpressable.

But it is the fault of human perception
the limit of its scope
it’s plain disability in understanding
let alone communicating
it’s own error
that keep us from telling the true stories
of how some figure we can't comprehend
is involved
in incidences
we, too, can not conceive of.

Frankly, that deconstruction was exhausting.
Come back for part III, Morals of Chaos, tomorrow.

Telling the Truth about Immortality I

The common flaw shared by all in recorded history
who’ve attempted to portray the immortals
is the insistent assumption that the eternal
behave entirely as mortals do;
albeit, mortals with inhuman power,
but mortals none the less.

I think my previous explanation of why this is so
from Some Thoughts on Immortality suffices
but I will briefly recap:

A. The immortals of myth and literature are,
in all of written record,
persistently depicted with well-established human emotions
from which their motives are fed their sole spring of sustenance.
i.e.

A loving God
A jealous Hera
A horny Dracula
A hateful Superman

B. There is enough evidence to state that
even in the mortal framework of man
there are plenty of recordable instances in which age,
& its associated experience,
produces more rational
& consistently more beneficial responses in the elder.
i.e. (entirely for your benefit)

Imagine a scientific experiment
where subjects are put through a pass/fail examination
consisting of a series of questions,
measuring knowledge, rational skills, reason, mental dexterity,
which increase consistently in difficulty.

If these questions were spaced out every 5 ft.
on an infinite & timeless plain
and to progress forward,
each examinee need answer the previous question accurately
according to testing officials.
1st being, something simple, “What fruit is this?”, a card displayed.
2nd advancing, 8x5?
33rd name 5 Mesopotamian Generals.
89th a hypothetical maybe regarding moral judgment,
role of persona, veiled mechanisms of complicated human relations.
& so & so forth like that forever.

Now if we took 5 clones
raised in identically controlled environments,
one specimen not a year old, another at 10, a third at 30,
our fourth 50, and lastly a retired gentleman of 65
& began theirs tests at precisely the same time.
Where would each be at the end of a day?
The end of a year?
50 years?
100?
10,000 years?
A million years?

C. I wouldn’t be alone in assuming also,
that knowledge, wisdom, mental acumen, and abstract reasoning,
for their entire known history, have in their individual ends always,
at their base,
aimed to resolve human suffering.
It can be said about everything from fire to the a-bomb.

D. We, as mortal man, have, for all known history,
sought the means & machinery
necessary to alleviate our own suffering.
Our combined will & prowess has always
leaned towards survival first
then the alleviation of the burden of survival.

No fear but Death has pushed us to the great lengths
of our modern society.
We live longer, our borders safer,
institutions do black deeds behind closed doors
to insure our futures,
all working to alleviate the fear of chaos,
the fear of the unknowable.
i.e.

Modern Medicine
The militarization of governments
Development of industrial materials

We aim to survive & from that civilizations uncoil,
but it is still not enough.
The people ache, they cry out, the burden is too great,
they demand motorized scooters, instant gratification,
emotional dependence,
sense of community, sense of self-importance;
the weight so unbearable, that every small pebble under foot screams agony.
i.e.

In a modern world with so little to fear,
everyone still rushes around maniacally grasping at one another,
entertaining dark thoughts, lashing out on themselves,
their motives indistinguishable.

But there is food in their bellies, roofs over most of their heads,
cars in the driveway,
children in school living under guard in apartments and condominiums.

We still fear for a perceivable future where all that will be parted from us.
We fear our lack of influence, our absence.

It is impossible to imagine a world not dependant on our perception,
literally impossible;
just try it…

1.)So a world without our perceiving can not be imagined.
2.)We can not, therefore, imagine our death, our non-existence.
3.)Yet, we know death to be true. We have the evidence.
4.)So, Death is proof that some truth is simply unobtainable.
5.)Death is an abyss in the human psyche,
the mind can not perceive it.
6.)The mind’s work is one of comprehension.
7.)Minds go in all directions, seeking information,
feeding impulses, staying alive.
8.)The one place that no man’s mind is permitted is Death.
9.)Death being one discernable attribute shared by all of mankind.
10.)The consciousness of civilization can then be said
to have only ever moved away from Death.

So knowing that all to be true,
our present (and historical) archetype
of eternals behaving as mortals,
is proven illogical:

If A (Immortal), as a defining characteristic,
is incapable of D (Death)
& B (Mortal)’s C (Behavior) is a result of D (Death)

A (Immortal)’s behavior can not be BC(Mortal Behavior)
Because BC (Mortal Behavior) is dependant on D (Death)
which A (Immortal) is incapable of
so
A (Immortal) does not equal BC (Mortal Behavior)

That’s a fallacy folks, read about it in your text books.

Frankly, that recap was exhausting.
Come back for part II, Morals of Chaos, tomorrow.

P.S. The pic is a link, as per usual.

Apologies for the Rubber Chicken Poetry Slam (Monterey, CA)

I’m happy to say now
that I’m sorry I stopped writing
& competing

You should know
that getting up there & fighting it out
with so many amazing writers
was a real pleasure every week
& when I won
it was just the icing on the cake

But I won quite a bit
& at first I was flattered
but soon turned to shame

I couldn’t understand how I could win
on what grounds
could I be deemed better
& why I had to be made the robber
I gave my winnings back to the donations
& still
I couldn’t help feeling bloody

I wanted to win at first
I liked the attention
the recognition
I aimed to please you all
I’d borrow your eyes
& look again at every word
I’d written

I won that way most
writing what I knew
would grab your attention
but as honest as it was
& it was
it was still a lie

I subjugated your perception
I was making accidents
we could all relate to
& at the same time
still feeling your push
the weight of your combined genius
& running the numbers
striving, always striving
to beat down the beast of my own
inquisition

I won & it was a lie
I was not a competitor

We were all putting on puppet shows
Screaming from inside ourselves
to fill some inflated effigy
into convulsing wildly
Dancing interpretive dances
for people we knew nothing about

Don’t read me sorely
it was still dance,
screaming,
theatre
it was still the only good reason
to wake up early & go to bed late
but I never really wanted to win it
ever

So I stopped risking it
then I stopped competing at all
went away for a while
came back to watch from afar
or not show up at all

I’m sorry I stopped playing the game
but,
I never could stand
anything
where people have to pick sides
They always make me feel
abandoned

Some Weather

It’s been raining all day
several counties under tornado advisory
the better part of the morning

The wind took all but the strongest leaves
from my lemon tree
knocked over the birdfeeders
and taken leaf & branch into the street

My back patio is holding an inch or two
of standing water
no point in sweeping it really
the rain will return heavier before dark

Tomorrow I’ll sweep the flood from my porch
let the sun finish drying it up
Just muddy tomorrow
but tonight it’ll be good & wet

When it’s like this
it’s impossible to keep the floor clean
around the doors
I’m always running out there for something
have a smoke
or a think
or to do some tiny errand
bring in the pots
unclog the gutter drain
& I’ll bring some back in with me
it’s unavoidable

But tonight the wind will be crisp & cool,
& smell like the leaves & the rain
I’ll throw on a hoodie
I’ll shroud myself
& smoke in the porchlight
Listening to the cars outside
one after the other
part tiny seas
& roar waves
crashing to break on the curb
& enfoam
to rain down
back into the street

My Biggest Problem

I never know when to quit
I cross the line every time
but I hate repeating myself
& I hate hearing things twice

I don’t understand why I’m supposed to be
taking these things so seriously
or
maybe, so gravely

I’m explaining myself well enough, aren’t I?
I believe every word that you say
I do my best to keep it cataloged
I may forget some of the details
names, times, phone numbers,
but I keep good records
on the gists of things

I blow up on people too
but its not a temper
I’m just speaking louder
because I want to be heard

I haven’t got a spiteful bone in my body
& that aint to say,
I don’t have any hate in my heart
I hate so many stupid things
but just things
& they don’t really mean anything to me
I barely ever talk about them
& think about them even less

I know how I come across to you
I get insulted some times
because you’d rather I just lie

Looking at Old Work

I’ve got nothing to say to you
all your empty menace
dissonance
& screaming about nothing at all
always thinking about who could be listening
& what you must look like to them
when folding a blanket by yourself in the late afternoon
seen through your window
or the rough language you use
talking on the phone on the patio

You & I are more than all that
more than vessels & machinery
more than the sum of our leashes

Make no mistake
guilt is as much a part of our lives now
as it ever was
Don’t feel bad
for thinking about spring
as the starter gun
for fucking all summer long
You aren’t the only one
who doesn’t mind
the smell of their own sweat
You aren’t alone
in this world
there are millions of places
that feel like the center of the universe

Getting Ready to Move

We gave away boxes & boxes of Christmas decorations
there were so many in storage
that it had become impossible to keep any real account of

So much of it she had kept in the hope that one of us kids
would want to carry them on in our own traditions
but as for me
I'd always believed that she had kept them for herself

They were stacked there though

all of them
with X-MAS written in marker on the side
& not from under the twinkling lights
but the glaring daylight from the open garage door
we looked at each one & wondered
why we had them in the first place
who had liked this or that way back when
did it have any significance at all

Under scrutiny
many looked cheap, ragged or just silly
despite having been staples on our tree
for as long as I could remember

We separated them
some for the Goodwill
some for the trash
some to keep

Strangely
the ones we threw away were mostly handmade
from some cousin or aunt
Shells glued & glittered
little toy soldiers or teddy bears affixed at the center
like a Venus De Milo
conceived by a moron

We kept the ones with dates
or ones that referred back to some significant timeframe
The Army, college, career choices & changes, births
& death in those that reminded us of our departed

It was easier than I’d thought it would’ve been
there were no tears
no misty eyes even
no wistful recalling of days gone by
neither debate nor despair
we packed it up
with a couple of other things
old computer monitors & keyboards

Goodwill took all the decorations
boxes of them
without question
but they said the computers
couldn’t be taken without an accompanying CPU
and had to be no more than 5 years old