Explaining god

I don’t know that much about Stanley Kubrick. In fact I had to type his name into my browser to ensure that it wasn’t spelled all crazy.

Tea seems to sooth me. So I am having a cup now. I am happy that it is a bit chilly out because this tea is pretty hot. I often wonder about that. Hot tea. I wonder, as I sit here typing and sipping tea, if someday an alien life form will somehow be able to observe this moment through some far away and futuristic technology. I wonder if that alien will scrutinize what I am drinking. What conclusions will be made about how the drink is influencing me. I wonder if the alien will know how to read what I am writing. Will there be a Rosetta Stone instance where they have found writings from a planet that humans have inhabited in the future and this was the key that they needed to decipher the code to understanding a long lost language. I wonder.

I think it is that very wonder that gets me in trouble sometimes. It is that wonder that forced me to think about how I was created. There seems to be a lot of evidence that humans were kind of always clever. I mean, yeah there was some growth but I wonder about the idea that we were placed here and we were already pretty smart then we just started doing things. Making things, creating systems and hierarchies and planting things and trying to eat things and cook things. It is very interesting.

Imagine a human just as smart as we are now but stuck in a caveman’s world. I think about the batman story, the one with the magic bullet as written by Grant Morrison. Where Bruce is tossed through time and in every instance he still becomes Batman. Pirate Batman and Caveman Batman are my favorites. However, that same concept works here. Humans are Bruce Wayne and by some unholy magic we ended up here on Earth. And no matter what we always end up becoming exactly what we are.

Then there is that. What we are. Or better yet what are we? In this scenario are we the remnants of an alien trying to survive. Are we an antibody injected into a cancerous cell to try and kill it? Why do we always end up as we do. trying to replicate ourselves and control ourselves and observe ourselves. I wonder.

If we keep going with the thought that we are like an organism then we can get even further. That would explain all of our similarities. Why we are most likely living with a shared consciousness. What if we were turning on one anther because our program saw us defecting, and the kill switch was for us to kill the ‘bad’ cells. because we can’t destroy the cancer infected cell if we are all trying to hug cancer trees. We need to be of one mind. Desrtoy the cancer.

But it’s hard because the scenery is so beautiful. Have you seen the flowers? I love flowers. California Poppy’s and Stargazer Lillies and Fuchsia flowers. how could that be cancer? And most importantly: Cancer to what? Are we inside of giant body laying in some hospital room somewhere? Is that what the parallel dimensions are? Other cells that we can’t see but we know are there? Another cell with other versions of us, the cancer killing antidote, trying to do the same thing. So close and so far at the same time.

We know about as much about this universe as a cat knows about how its food is produced in a factory in Michigan.

A woman, a friend, once said to me that cats were gods. It wasn’t until I lived with a cat that I truly understood this to be vitally incorrect.

Stanley Kubrick had a cat. A couple I think…

I have also heard the argument that we are like gods to cats. In this example the same way we look to God cats or pets in general, look to us. We are towering behemoths that create and fly away in magical machinery but that are the apple of our eyes. The alley cats call out to us ‘why have you forsaken us?’ they cry out in kitty cat prayers. ‘You rammed us and bred us just to watch our kittens die in the streets’ they lament. ‘Why God? Why? We are better off alone.’ But as soon as we have a little heavy cream and bits of cheese they lay at our feet. Inferior and weak.

I have a problem with that theory as well. I feel like we can’t really comprehend God. Like I know we can and we do, but I dint think it’s correct. I think what we conceptualize isn’t God. I think that idea is just us. Hot take, I know. How we identify with a being that haas all our same limbs and emotions. A being that is looking at our every thought and judging us. Literally.

That seems more like ancient knowledge passed down. Example:

It’s like fifty thousand years ago and the technology is all fungi. The same way we use the internet these old time humans are using underground mushroom networks. It powers things it sends messages and best of all they can use it to grow directly what is needed for healing and food. Of course there are some parts of this society that make poison or ways to abuse and even ways to exploit this. They same way we plug into the internet and go to www.<<insertvice>>.net they have parts of the network that produce a ‘special’ mushroom that always does the trick. If you follow me. We even have a remnant of that in the forests now.

However, they didn’t have a way of preserving their history that could be read by generations fifty thousand years into the future. Of course, everything is recorded in tree rings but they don’t know that we will have the same technology that can read the trees. So they tell a story. This story is full of metaphors that are meant to point us in the right direction where we can find all the answers that they solved. It is the story of humans working together in one mindedness as one big force to do good to one another and build the Earth up.

The story is passed down and as the fungi network grows and humans become more and more arrogant that their way of life will always be then the unthinkable happens. The Great Tree Fire. It’s caused by space debris hitting the earth and sparking a blaze that wipes out ninety percent of the Earth’s population. The fire burns for decades. All the humans have to cling to is the old stories. The can’t use the fungi network so they paint with clay and ash. They dwell in watery caves in the mountains. Some eventually branch out to see if the world still burns. They don’t return.

Time passes and now we are in the time of the rock humans. They know that tree humans were there a long time ago. But they had weak technology. Also, the rock humans can’t decipher their codes. All they have are the stories that they told. Stories about something big. A big human that for some reason is touching little humans and making work hard in the forests. The big human is holding the Earth so it must be a God from space. I wonder…

At the end of a Space Odyssey, a movie that I watched way too young and alone, there is a silent bit where the man is in a room. He is old and he is young and then there is a baby and a bed and lights in the floor and all kinds of stuff. Its wild. It’s cool. It’s really wonderful.

I wonder a lot about that scene. I read once that Stanley Kubrick told the crew to create a room that felt like some thing that didn’t know what a human was made a room for a human. Or something like that. I think that in the source material for the movie there is supposed to be words explaining what it was and what was happening. I am so glad that there wasn’t. I think that in that scene we get a good description of what God would be.

When my Grandfather was dying I found it hard to cry. He was in a care home and I was lucky because the nurse that was running the place just so happened to be my friends wife. She took care of him until he died. We had the same birthday.

In the hospital so many people came to watch him die. He was so special. He was a big man. He held the world in his palm. He did right by others and built up the earth the way we all should. They injected him with so many things. There were so many tubes. So many wires. I asked why we were trying to keep him alive. He was so frail and he didn’t look at anyone like he knew them. He looked at us like one looks into a pond.

He used to let me stay up late and watch nick at nite. He would sneak and give me tea. He would roll up baloney slices and eat them in two bites. Now he was skinny and had tubes everywhere. The nurse came in with needles and gave him injections. He just stared into nothingness. His skin was like black huun. It broke for the needles but it would never heal. Not in fifty thousand years.

The nurse said the injections were a signal, a hormone that told the pain receptors to be calm. Or something like that. We know so little about how our bodies work. We can’t even talk to it. I know that we can but not how we talk to each other. No. We have to use weird signals like hormones to try and urge systems that are programmed to do a job, to not do that job.

We send in a foreign goo that breaks into the dying cells and try to end them peacefully.

I wonder. I wonder if that is a closer idea of the relationship that we have with God. We get feelings and urges all the time that try to make us deviate from a job that a world is trying to tell us to do. What we call the spirit could just be the injections that are promoting us as whole to move this way or move that way.

We can’t really understand or talk to God the same way we can’t understand or talk to our own bodies. Sure I know that my cells have functions and are building proteins and moving sugars and all that. However, I wonder why I can’t just say ‘hey cells, stop that pain in my foot’. I wonder if we literally are the body of God. The more I think of it, the more I feel like there is something to it. Maybe Arthur C. Clark and Stanley Kubrick suffered for wonder too.

There are a million ways that God could be explained. It kind of makes me wonder. I do that a lot. Wonder.

I wonder if God is Wonder.