What I think I believe: A prose poem

To say there is no duality is to concede there is.

To say God has a list is ignorance.

To say you know anything for sure is naive.

To believe in a separate, personal God is nothing short of ridiculous.

Every religion tells us that God is immutable, omnipotent, and utterly ungraspable by the human mind.  Every religion goes on to tell us exactly what is in the mind of God.

Do you think your one, holy, catholic and apostolic church has droned the same immutable message since it rose from the ashes of the Roman Empire?  Do you really believe your free-thinking, free-wheeling nihilistic Buddha is the same one who sat, perplexed, tormented and impatient under the Bodhi tree?  Can it be your quibbling, etymological Yaweh is the same brutal partisan of the Torah?  Is your pitiless prophet the same one who forgave the Meccans for trying to destroy him?

Congratulations, you have mastered the difficult art of intransigent gullibility.  Nothing is changeless, not even the divine genealogies your ancestors would find disturbing without their context.

Yes, there is a God, created and lovingly maintained by his human masters.  How could it be the opposite?  Does God shave?  What does he eat?  What use would he have of testicles?  Where does he get his clothes?  How can he have demands?

In my universe, there is no god but All.  There are no demands, no rewards, no punishment.  Leave that kind of stuff for humanity.  The meaning of life is life.  The meaning of death is life.  The meaning of humanity is arrogance.  The meaning of good is evil.  The meaning of my right hand is my left hand.

How can it be otherwise?


Levers.  To me, they hold the key to all the mysteries of the universe.  Why does one thing follow the last?  Why is the speed of light – the speed of it, not light itself – immutable?  How can an attribute be more fundamental than the thing itself?  How can something come from nothing, and return to it?  How can two things as different as mass and distance be so intimately intertwined?

Everyone knows the formulae involved; that’s not what I’m talking about.  That work equals force times distance is definitional, and intuitively satisfying, given the ordinary meanings of the words in the equation.  We can relate to pushing a one ton weight a distance of, say, ten meters.  That’s work, by god!  But just between you and me, those aren’t really words; in this case, they’re mathematical terms masquerading as words:

 F = ma
W = Fd

For example, we accelerate a mass some distance by applying force to produce work, but we would never think of producing mass by dividing work by the product of acceleration and distance.  How would we even go about such a division?  Words literally fail us here!  Not so mathematics:

m = W/ad

The disturbing thing here is that it’s perfectly true.