When I was a small child, my parents intentionally mislead my still-forming gray matter into believing a preposterous untruth. They informed me — knowing deep down all along what they were saying was false — that a special kind of being was always watching over me, always with me, and taking assiduous interest in my little life. He apparently lived in a clean, white, distant place and was monitoring my moral behavior with omniscient perspicuity. This man was not bound by normal earthly physics, and could disregard them at will. He was immensely powerful and omnipresent. And this man would reward moral behavior handsomely, while at the same time punishing the immoral with bituminous rock capable of intense, fiery burning. It wasn’t until later in life that I realized I’d been defrauded. But I held no malice towards my parents for perpetuating this metaphysical myth. They knew no better, because their own parents had similarly defrauded them, when they were themselves children. And on and on. For no reason, other than the nonsense got started in the past, and inertia, and the human propensity toward the preternatural. But in fact, Santa Claus does not exist.
The only two moralities I’ve ever understood were those of the Jain sect, and of Peter Singer. The first draws the line at ‘everything alive.’ The orthodox practitioners actually carry a broom about and sweep in front of their steps, in a symbolic attempt to not step upon even microscopic life forms. A little untenable in modern, non-hermetic life.
The second draws the line at ‘everything human.’ It finds fault and violence in mere inaction. By not helping when we know there is suffering, even somewhere foreign and distant, we are not behaving morally. But, as we know from all the social sciences, we are a tribal species, and what is most proximate and genetically-related and self-narratively important concerns us most. Our concerns are circumscribed by our limitations. This is the essence of ‘tribalism,’ or in other cases, ‘egoism.’ Freud — holla!
There is no end to this story. Thank you for tuning in.
♥ Sterling —
Can anyone show me a single human being that is not hypocritical? In my mind, I ran through a quick ad hoc list of supposedly principled persons:
Gandhi (wife beater);
Martin Luther King, Jr. (wife cheater);
Mother Teresa (checked into the finest of western hospitals when ill, while requiring austerity and prayer to ‘heal’ the poor she ‘helped’);
Ron Paul (editor of racist newsletters);
Jesus of Nazareth (compare Matthew 5:22 to Matthew 7:26);
Saint Reagan (doubling the national debt while calling for small government); and
Ayn Rand (suckler upon the public teat).
So, in our rhetoric, why do we so often strive for the conclusion ‘he/she/you/they are a hypocrit?’ If *every human being* is, by nature, hypocritical, this is a completely useless and unenlightening conclusion. And it serves to immediately distract from the actual content being discussed. I do believe we might be a nation of fools.
Myself included. I’m not trying to be a hypocrit here. But I will be going to hell. And if you read the Jesus bullshit I pointed you to, you’ll know why.
Muhammad Ali just showed me how far our nation has back-slided on racial issues. Of course, I’ve read the articles on how our schools are now more racially segregated than in the 1970s. But stark *anecdotal* evidence of this cultural backslide came in the form of ESPN’s “30 For 30″ documentary entitled “The Real Rocky.”
Although the story of beleaguered, aging, white, blue-collar boxer Chuck Wepner, and his legal battles with Sylvester Stallone over the movie “Rocky,” are interesting, the most compelling part was the footage of Ali.
I hadn’t realized how incredibly vocally political Ali was. I thought he was more of a LeBron James-style self-aggrandizer used as a symbol of the black power movement. And he was certainly was that. He had the same swagger and dominance that James has now. But imagine if LeBron was a vocal, Muslim, black power firebrand who used the public microphone available to him through his sports achievements to raise issues surrounding disparate racial treatment and outcomes. That is what Ali was.
Yet Ali was a *cultural hero* in his time. Now imagine our hypothetical LeBron, after changing his name to Muhammad LeBron, doing this today. Even though we are *every bit as segregated* as we were two generations ago, and black families still have gaping, statistically significant worse outcomes than whites in many areas of life, if Muhammad LeBron spoke of this, what would Fox News have to say? What would the public at large have to say?
I, Sterling Lambert, as Highmost Weirdo of The Church of The Purple Weirdo, here tell You of Him, Our God, The One and Only True God, The Purple Weirdo:
The Purple Weirdo, The One and Only True God, magnificently condensed from the vapors of the e-cigarettes exhaled from the people’s mouths.
The Purple Weirdo, The One and Only True God
He had been here all along, but it wasn’t until The Holymost Magical Mixture of diethylene glycol, nitrosamines, and artificial cherry flavoring synchronized For-Profit that He materialized upon this planet, The Blue Weirdball, and gave us His Ten Precepts, inscribed for eversterity in White Frosting upon The Holy Erotic Penis Cake:
The Holy Erotic Penis Cake
THE TEN PRECEPTS OF THE PURPLE WEIRDO
by The Purple Weirdo,
The One and Only True God.
PREAMBLIN’: Ye, My Children of The Blue Weirdball, I, The Purple Weirdo, bequeath unto You these Ten Precepts of The Purple Weirdo, The One and Only True God, to help You Live and Die; at the very least, You should have some of The Holy Erotic Penis Cake. For it is gluten free, organic, and will make You feel somewhat better, for a time. And if ever You should need Me, My Children of The Blue Weirdball, just have a languorous puff on Your cherry-flavored e-cigarette, and pense upon of Me; for I am always with You. Even when You are masturbating to Digital Streams of fornicating strangers on the Internet.
Here are My Ten Precepts:
1. Life is essentially meaningless.
2. Therefore, there is no winning, losing, success, or failure.
3. There is only Living and Dying.
4. You must pray to Chance for Oblivion, which will be peaceful and quiet and Whatnot, or whatever – why don’t You just make something up appealing to Yourself? This Oblivion is Your deathly Reward, so it should be customized; after all, My Children, why would You subscribe without a personally appealing deathly Reward? No ‘one size fits all’ in The Church of The Purple Weirdo, as with the other obsolete false religions.
5. That Chance for Oblivion is currently hypostatized by 99942 Apophis, which might fuck us up pretty good in 2029, and which is the other half of the Consubstantial Dynity, besides Myself, The Purple Weirdo, The One and Only True God. In one, there is two; with two, there is one. And any similarities in these Ten Precepts to Spice Girls pop ballad lyrics are coincidental.
6. But, alas, I am only a god, and like all other gods, I have no real power at all. So Apophis probably will not hit, no matter how hard You pray. Your Chance for Oblivion may be delayed.
7. But fuck it. Because I am a god, evidence, or its lack, or outcomes, or countless horrors, cruelties, absurdities, and debasements will not make You think one way or another about anything when it comes to Me. Like all other gods, I am an infinite Teddy Bear, so I encourage You to get a stuffed Purple Weirdo to hug in Your bed. They are available through The Church of The Purple Weirdo’s website for $39.99, plus Shipping.
8. And if the small Chance for Oblivion through Apophis that I have bequeathed unto You does not come to pass, fear not, My children: there will always be another Chance for Oblivion, otherwise futurely hypostatized, for which You may ineffectually pray.
9. And as necessary, please update the Holy Underlined Terms in these Ten Precepts to contain the current best Chance for Oblivion, which update makes My God-dom far superior to any prior; You see, You can actually Change shit with Me. I, The Purple Weirdo, am not like a zealot or anything.
10. And while You await Your Death, My Children, please consider not being Narcissistic, Sociopathic, Social-Power-Hungry, Material-Goods-Obsessed Assholes. I mean Jesus-fucking-Christ already with that goddamned bullshit.
Thus, I, The Purple Weirdo, The One and Only True God, in Consubstantial Dynity with the current best Chance for Oblivion, as hypostatized by 99942 Apophis, have Precepted.
THE UPDATED LORD’S PRAYER