Skip to main content

All the News is Not Fit to Print

I have spent life-changing hours this morning, reading heartwarming and fantasmagorical tales of how things might have been had they not been what we know they are.

Michael Laitman is a professor of Ontology, with a PhD in Philosophy and Kabbalah and an MSc in Medical Bio-Cybernetics, and he or someone apparently purchased half a page in the New York Times of today.  What caught my eye was the line, "Buying Our Way into Heaven".  "That," I thought, "is my only chance, and I cannot afford it, but I had better pay attention!"

I cannot do justice to whatever that cost turns out to be, but I did enjoy the business about Jonah being thrown overboard by the crew of a boat that suspected that he was a Jonah, and how he ended up in the whale of a belly of a whale, and how, after walking around in there for some days, finally agreed to do God's work, which taught him a lesson, I think.  I never did figure out what it would cost me to buy my way into heaven, or even out of a whale.

But then, a few pages on, I happened upon a much more comforting story having to do with somebody named Fudge, who is from Katy, Texas, where we have relatives, as you might have guessed.  The Rev. Mr. Edward Fudge was offered a research job for a year by someone from Australia, where it is hotter than hell in the summer time, to get his mind clear about the final fate of the damned.  As you undoubtedly know, God is both holy and good, as has taken a bad rap about consigning ordinary, run-of-the-mill sinners like you and me to hell forever, even though we may simply have skipped church or forgotten the catechism.  It doesn't seem quite fair.  The Rev. Mr. Fudge concluded that hell does not go on forever, but that after a while, God shows his great kindness and mercy and annihilates the scorched sinners; puts them out of the misery he has put them in, so to speak.  This view is called, "Conditional Immortality", or "Annihilationism", which is a great comfort if you have ever been in Australia or Arizona in the summer, although another scholar, at Grand Canyon University in Phoenix disagrees, insisting that God is not Conditional; that the fires are eternal.  And somebody named Gin Lum, at Stanford, has offered her own Lum explanation about all of this.  I do not pretend to do complete justice to the depth and compassion of such scholars as these, nor even--God forbid!--even to God Him- or Her-Self, who immerse themselves in studies of hellfire and whales and things.

Personally, when I find myself out of my depth, as I tend to be whenever there is a whale, or an ocean, or eternal fires involved, I turn to the comfort of Coyote tales; how Coyote created the world, and such things as all that.  I will confess that it might have been a very human need to find comfort and compassion and common sense that led me to think about the time Coyote schemed to turn bison loose on the earth.  Before that, as you know,  Old Humpback had all the bison corralled in a stone pen behind his stone house, and would not allow any of the rest of us the pleasures of bison meat or robes.  Those were the days when one could drive through Yellowstone Park and never see a single bison.  Coyote, who is something of a shape changer, changed his shape into a dog, and stampeded the bison through Humpback's house and out into the world.  But you knew that, if you have been to Yellowstone!

It is probably just another fundamental flaw in my nature, but sometimes I simply cannot take any more research about whales and hellfire and divine punishment, and I yearn for those simple, heartwarming stores of how Coyote created the world and did all those tricky things he did.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard

Caliche Busters and Government Work

When I was young and both stronger and smarter than I am now, I put my might and brain to work doing nothing useful, unless it might be thought that hand/foot/eye coordination might come in handy.  Those were skills to be learned and practiced.   I found an iron bar our grandfather had shaped in his blacksmith shop.  He took old car, truck, or wagon axles, and made tools from them for digging post holes.  He sharpened one end to a tip, and the other to a blade.  Washington State, like many places, had a hard layer of soil, probably created by water and limestone, or some such materials, that made digging holes a miserable chore.  The bar chipped through the natural concrete so that a shovel could take it up.   I found Grandpa's iron bar, and since I was young and dumb and strong--or so I thought--decided to punch a hole down to hardpan and ultimate truth.  I knew how to do that.  Raise the bar vertically with both hands, and then slam in straight down.  On the second try, aimi

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them.  Even when all they wanted to do w