For the past two thousand years, we have shared a collective fantasy about our centrality in the universe beknighted by God with certain powers and privileges. Even a rudimentary exploration of the cosmos confirms our unimportance. We retreat to the comfort of our fantasies because the alternative that is reality is unbearable. Eternity in hell is preferable to eternity in nothingness. It is nothingness that we fear. One literally cannot imagine it because our minds fill it with something: darkness, chill, faint sounds, a sense of someone or at least something else being out there.
We rationalize the pointlessness of all creation if, in fact, it was not so much created as merely always was, and also rationalize the pointlessness of life without purpose or direction and some guide to lead us on the proper path. All religions and philosophies are born of such stuff because grappling with fantasies is better than grappling with something considerably less than thin air. Pointlessness leads to hopelessness and despair. We briefly chance to contemplate the inability to contemplate, the loss of consciousness, non-existence. There is no disapproving god or condemning devil. There is emptiness and this emptiness makes our souls growl like hungry stomachs. We dash back to light and life, consciousness and breathing. We hold onto our pillows as well as our dreams. Nightmares become pleasant in reflection because they offer something and hope always exists of improving our lot.
What was I thinking in 1957? I was not yet born. I was not yet conceived. Was I living a past life? Was I in transition from one life to another? Or did I simply not exist? Will my state after this life return to that one? Will my consciousness, my hopes, dreams, ambitions, fears, illnesses, or anything remain?
Some ancients saw the approaching age as the end of time. Nothing exists beyond December 23rd, 2012. Is that right? Nothing? When we collectively enter the road to the Underworld will there be an Underworld to visit or simply a void?
Zordon N. 38: Terzo Millennio (Third Millennium), published in October, 1976
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Remember Vursals, the mind-controlling winged space lions? Well, after
conquering the home planet of the peaceful Dikters, they ate so much Dikter
flesh...
6 years ago
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