"One of these days, I'm gonna have to put this all down in writing; it'll fill a book". Or, something close to that, is a regular thought crossing my mind. Well, maybe someday. Until then, I have this blog!
Here is a thought I esteem, from another contributor to a philosophy, or the cosmology (or what-ever-ya-call-it) underpinning my presumptive intention for blogging here. Its apparently from Ralph Waldo Emerson:
Here is a thought I esteem, from another contributor to a philosophy, or the cosmology (or what-ever-ya-call-it) underpinning my presumptive intention for blogging here. Its apparently from Ralph Waldo Emerson:
"Let me admonish you, first of all, to go alone; to refuse the good models, even those which
are sacred in the imagination of men, and dare to love God without mediator or veil."
Looking, just now, deeper into Mr. Emerson than I have for a while, I also saw this attributed to him:
"Do not quote to me, tell me what you know." (or, something close to that, anyway)
But what do I "know"?
Ultimately, I know nothing. It seems to me that there is a consciousness here, evident in my waking existence. For some reason, and in some way or another, a perpetual stream of thought seems to be generated by, or through, this consciousness. But thought is not knowing.
I can follow any of those thoughts perpetually arising, and wonder about them. Wondering, I can interpret the thoughts, through a filter of others' thoughts, perhaps - as for example I was doing with Mr. Emerson's just above, there. Why do we do that? Which is to say, I think we all do that, and I believe that I discern at least one good reason for our doing so: comfort.
There is an emotional comfort, at the least, in "knowing" that someone else - especially a prominent someone - had a thought sufficiently close to our own, by which we can then feel bolstered in believing that what we "know" is all the more likely "true".
The Truth be damned! Your Brother Charlie wants to Do It My Way, no less than like Brother Frank sang of it than as Brother Ralph admonished, to "going alone", without a mediator. And yet still I quote, and cite, and reference many others' thoughts, philosophy, cosmology and what-ever-ya-call-its.
I'd bet the last nickel in my pocket that my choosing to do so is, first of all, because I want psychological support for my thoughts. I want those thoughts validated by an outside source. And I think that's because "doing it my way" - and crucially, knowing that I may have to "take the heat" for doing it my way - is a harrowing, lonely path to follow.
Coming back around, full circle: I'd bet my first million on there being a whole lot to do with my wanting to blog here, at all, that's tied up in the wish for outside validation for my thoughts, and beliefs.
Religions, one after another, have been built upon this same human frailty. We can't empirically prove the existence of any deity around which a religion operates. Belief in a deity not demonstrably, physically evident as being, in fact, a god, is entirely a matter of faith.
Isn't faith, then, in anything which we cannot provably know is true, the very same experience I just characterized earlier, as "a harrowing, lonely path to follow"? Isn't that true, for the same reason I gave, above: one may have to "take the heat" for it?
What if it turns out I was wrong? What if that wasn't Zeus, imploring me to mount a heroic quest, but was Hera, in disguise - playing a trick on her husband and me, both! I went on Crusade for you, Jehovah, slaughtering the Infidel, In Your Name, 'til their blood ran down my arms, but now you're telling me that wasn't what you wanted me to do?
What the Fuck?
But what do I "know"?
Ultimately, I know nothing. It seems to me that there is a consciousness here, evident in my waking existence. For some reason, and in some way or another, a perpetual stream of thought seems to be generated by, or through, this consciousness. But thought is not knowing.
I can follow any of those thoughts perpetually arising, and wonder about them. Wondering, I can interpret the thoughts, through a filter of others' thoughts, perhaps - as for example I was doing with Mr. Emerson's just above, there. Why do we do that? Which is to say, I think we all do that, and I believe that I discern at least one good reason for our doing so: comfort.
There is an emotional comfort, at the least, in "knowing" that someone else - especially a prominent someone - had a thought sufficiently close to our own, by which we can then feel bolstered in believing that what we "know" is all the more likely "true".
The Truth be damned! Your Brother Charlie wants to Do It My Way, no less than like Brother Frank sang of it than as Brother Ralph admonished, to "going alone", without a mediator. And yet still I quote, and cite, and reference many others' thoughts, philosophy, cosmology and what-ever-ya-call-its.
I'd bet the last nickel in my pocket that my choosing to do so is, first of all, because I want psychological support for my thoughts. I want those thoughts validated by an outside source. And I think that's because "doing it my way" - and crucially, knowing that I may have to "take the heat" for doing it my way - is a harrowing, lonely path to follow.
Coming back around, full circle: I'd bet my first million on there being a whole lot to do with my wanting to blog here, at all, that's tied up in the wish for outside validation for my thoughts, and beliefs.
Religions, one after another, have been built upon this same human frailty. We can't empirically prove the existence of any deity around which a religion operates. Belief in a deity not demonstrably, physically evident as being, in fact, a god, is entirely a matter of faith.
Isn't faith, then, in anything which we cannot provably know is true, the very same experience I just characterized earlier, as "a harrowing, lonely path to follow"? Isn't that true, for the same reason I gave, above: one may have to "take the heat" for it?
What if it turns out I was wrong? What if that wasn't Zeus, imploring me to mount a heroic quest, but was Hera, in disguise - playing a trick on her husband and me, both! I went on Crusade for you, Jehovah, slaughtering the Infidel, In Your Name, 'til their blood ran down my arms, but now you're telling me that wasn't what you wanted me to do?
What the Fuck?
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