Gott ist tot.
You are alone. Hang on?
Tyler Cowen famously claims he is an “non-believer” - vulgo: agnostic.
Most other ACX-fanboys get by being “atheist but spiritual”. But today is - again - that day where I shall leave behind this wishy-washy wishful thinking and go full atheist. There is no god. A silly concept if ever there was one. We are alone. On a pretty blue planet circling a half-burnt pointless sun in a minor galaxy, only one of millions and billions in this amazing and expanding universe, rushing head on to entropy.
I am alone. You are alone. Hang on or don’t. It matters zilch.
Have to admit it: I clicked yesterday, when youtube suggested me a corny compilation of “Britain got talent” performances. I am alluding to the second song: a priest doing REM “Everybody hurts”
Since nothing matters, I may as well confess: There are rumours about my “faith”.
Some rumours have it that I
graduated in Catholic Theology
had a great-great-uncle who was a priest
first met with my present occupation when I took part in a national Lutherian Church gathering
left the Catholic church, when my bishop banned Prof. Eugen Drewermann to preach as a priest (Dr. Drewermann is - among other things a priest, obviously. The German Jordan Peterson. Just “left”.)
cycled from Germany to Egypt with major stops: the earliest Christian churches in cave near Antiochia and Mount Sinai. Which I climbed to the live sounds of “stairways to heaven”. Not to mention the amazing mosques in Edirne, Istanbul, Ankara, Damascus … . Had a fine little talk with a Coptic bishop in Cairo, too.
cycled on another trip to South Asia, where I accepted prasad in the Golden temple of the Sikhs in Amritsar, donated sweets to the holy rats in their Karni Mata Temple of Deshnoke, smoked bank to honor Shiva, went out early to attend mass with Mother Teresa, till I mustered the courage to ask her to sign her biography (as a present for my mother). Or sat under Buddha’s sacred fig-tree Bodh Gaya.
had an epiphany
celebrate solstice and worship the sun
put my hand on the cross and leaned on it. Today.
admire the movie The life of Brian for its historical and theological accuracy.
hold a novel dearest that says about life “It’s all bosh” and “Angus Óg is a god”1
could not be stopped from praying in Makkah and circling the Kaaba 7 times
This are probably mostly silly rumours and I wager you can not tell which is a straight lie.
Anyways, God is dead. Today. No one for Jakob or Jordan to struggle with. Jordan Peterson, the prophet, as Scott understood so well. Here the end of a sermon in a rather ridiculous suit:
God is dead. I am all alone. Hurt.
Hamdulillah, I have to endure that feeling only till next night. Till we may proclaim again: In truth, he has risen!
longer quote: “Angus Óg is a god,” said the Philosopher severely. “I know that, sir,” replied Meehawl; “it’s only a way of talking I have. But how will your honour get at Angus? for I heard say that he hadn’t been seen for a hundred years, except one night only when he talked to a man for half an hour on Kilmasheogue.” “I’ll find him, sure enough,” replied the Philosopher. “I’ll warrant you will,” replied Meehawl heartily as he stood up. “Long life and good health to your honour,” said he as he turned away. The Philosopher lit his pipe. “We live as long as we are let,” said he, “and we get the health we deserve. Your salutation embodies a reflection on death which is not philosophic. We must acquiesce in all logical progressions. The merging of opposites is completion. Life runs to death as to its goal, and we should go towards that next stage of experience either carelessly as to what must be, or with a good, honest curiosity as to what may be.” “There’s not much fun in being dead, sir,” said Meehawl. “How do you know?” said the Philosopher. “I know well enough,” replied Meehawl.