Murphy's Law

I was watching a bunch of Atheist vs. Creationist videos today on YouTube (very reputable, no?), and I think that got my mind spinning in a religious direction, because when I was washing the dishes just now I thought up this idea for this blog. Oh and I just realized that it's Easter, so it's even more topical!

Ok, I believe in Murphy's Law, which, for those who don't know it, states quite generally "Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong" (Wikipedia). For example, if your band has been practicing a song for weeks and you finally get it right a few days before your first show, you expect that the show will go smoothly. Unfortunately when the day of that show arrives, your van gets a flat tire, and you were already late because of the lead guitarist running out of hair gel, and by the time you get there, other acts have gone in your place so they push you to the end of the show, but before you get a chance, one of the other bands gets sick of the crowd booing them and throws his guitar at a heckler who dodges it, and the guitar crashes into a main amp, exploding into a fiery spark show which causes much confusion and sadness. The rest of the show is unfortunately canceled, and you have missed your moment.

So then I applied Murphy's Law to Christian religion and I figured that the Rapture should probably be coming very very soon. This is because I am now more atheist than I have ever been, and if it turns out that the Christian God does exists and takes all His people back to Heaven with Him, then I will be quite stuck here on earth. Since right now (or I guess anytime in my future) would be a bad time for me, it is likely that this is when the Rapture will occur. Of course this is a most selfish way of looking at it. As if I had anything to do with God's decision. Of course, that second coming of Jesus probably doesn't rest solely upon when I decide to believe whatever I believe, but...I mean...maybe it does?

Vague Hymns

Alas, his coat did not contain the warmth necessary to walk the distance. He was too tall and wiry to hold any heat himself; indeed, his mother always had accused him of being colder than the rooms in their abode as a young man. Not as a child, for he did remain quite plump until adolescence. It was on his thirteenth birthday that his grandmother realized how much he was beginning to look like his father. They had brought out the albums, showing him and telling stories about the man he had never known. The Great War had taken him, along with his brothers and led them to meet their maker, but everyone agreed that it was for the best. They did have to work harder, but this boy would grow up tall and maybe become a professional and never have to fight in a dreadful war like that.


But if he was to continue to make it to his classes, he would need a warmer coat. Perhaps something with down; that had always created the necessary effect when he slept through the cold nights of his youth. The comforter that he received on that birthday was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: all white of course, for it was the finest cloth they could afford (the prices of dyes from Arabia really were quite outlandish) and it must have been half a dozen inches tall, stuffed with the soft feathers from uncountable geese, created as the absolute perfect complement to his thin bony frame which lost heat like the cabin they lived in.

Imagination < Life < Acting

Reality's scorn can be created from the simplest of annotations, with its sad imperfections leading the way to dusty death and its uplifting moments creating refreshment stands along the path to righteousness, and either one can be the correct choice, for the life in which we portray ourselves is less than acting and more than imagination. Accept this offer of subordination and allow me to create within your body a wormhole into something grander, not that there can be anything grander than the universe in which we live, which is almost my point. We live here unknowingly, not looking from outside because our eyes are too close to our brains and our brains are too close to earth, therefore leading our souls to be attached to both and therefore all three. Please pretend that nothing is real. Please feel that you are the only thing that exists, and even so it's only your mind that exists, and then you will realize, if you can jump to that plane of thought, that whatever you do is more than imagination because it has unexpected results, and it is less than acting because you don't have to memorize anything, you can just let it flow. Like what you are reading now is just a thing that isn't really here, but it does exist, even in its sporadic process of coming to a point.

I have been wanting a steak...

There should be 4 boxes in this comic strip. If you can't see all four, just click on it and you will see the whole thing.


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Science of Loneliness

Twelve twelve twelve. 12 is a number. Twelve is a word. 12 is a dozen. Dozen's a word. Dozens of words. Words are 5 letters. Dozen is too. Dozen is 1 word. 1 word of 5 letters of 12 things. Dozens are 6, but are many, yet still 1. 1 is the loneliest number. 12 is twelve of 1. 12 is twelve lonely number 1s working synergistically to create 1 single dozen of non-lonely participants. This 1 dozen is, in itself, alone for there is only 1, until there come dozens. 5 can be lonely, 6 is less likely to be.