The problem is people get stuck in their belief systems, because it’s satiates their understanding, but it’s a false understanding of something they just can’t grasp, something that’s too cosmic and esoteric for their feeble minds to wrap around. So our minds create convoluted concepts that give us some kind of false understanding, and hence we have a dogma. Dogma is a dried leaf sealed under wax paper. Dogma is a dead butterfly pinned down onto a large sheet covered with scads of other pinned-down butterflies, and they all have scientific labels written down for them, different species and subspecies and micro-subspecies and other meaningless crapola. That’s how our freaking religions developed.
Blind faith leads to blind ignorance. We blindly believe something because some holy book or guru or some preacher or some religion or somebody-or-other told us it was true, so we bought into what idiots call the one true religion — which is a whole crock of crap! I believe that there are many paths that lead to the truth, not just one. When you only have one option, you’re screwed! Then you start believing crap like you’re gonna burn in eternal hellfire, which is another load of crap! The universe is too big for only one option to exist, and the Creator of such a universe would have to be totally demented and psychotic to give us only one option – and to be dashed into the flaming pits of hell if we don’t comply. Especially if we don’t know which option is the right one, and we have thousands to choose form! All created by brain-frazzled people!
But, believe what you want. There’s the possibility that you might be right and I might be wrong — very slim possibility, I’m figuring. Or, maybe you’re right, but I’m righter! Ha!
Just kidding.
Or am I?
Actually, I don’t really know, and I’m gonna stop claiming that I know anything, cuz I used to know everything there was to know, by way of all those holy books and gurus and preachers and teachers and dogmas and doctrines and such loads of crap, until I abandoned it all for “not-knowingness.” It’s when you admit you don’t know, you allow room for real knowing to enter in.
Remember the Etch-a-Sketch? To get rid of whatever crap you drew on it, you just shake it a few times and it magically disappears. Well, shake that thing, baby! Get rid of all the crap!
I decided that all my preconceived personalized answers were dead wrong and that I’d better start over again and start asking a lot of questions. That’s when doors really start popping open!
WARNING! The following views will most likely offend a few readers here and there, so if you don’t grow a thick skin fast, you won’t be able to withstand the unleashed hell-fires of my demented mind!
Alright! What the hell is anti-dogmatarianism, you’re asking me. Right? Because if you’re asking me something stupid like “Where’d I put my damned car keys?” then that’s the wrong question. But that’s too cosmic a question for me, right up there with crap like, “What’s the freaking meaning of life?” ‘Cuz I ain’t got a clue — not anymore. I used to know what the meaning of life was, when my mind was saturated and brainwashed with some crazy dogma I had delved into at the time. But I’ve abandoned that mind-numbing crapola, and decided to live the purposeless-driven life instead. Which means, instead of settling for some damn dogma, (or dog shit I’d rather call it) I’d rather be stripped of all those freaking fetters of frustration and just boldly go where angels supposedly fear to tread and tromp or frolic. Instead of being bound by the absolute certainty that the crap I blindly believe is absolutely true, hornswoggling myself into believing I’m right and they’re wrong, I’d rather be free in flexible uncertainty so I can ask a lot of witty questions about life, the universe, and everything, and not hold my breath, but patiently await something-or-other to happen, maybe not necessarily answers, but just something, or maybe nothing at all. Maybe some dumb joker will throw a brick at my head, cracking my cranium open, and I’ll wake up and see the light . . . I dunno.
The way I figure it, we get glimpses of reality, hopefully real reality, but then we twist this around because we don’t understand what the hell we saw. So we create crap that we can wrap our puny brains around. So now we got crazy ideas that unravel into vague notions whereby cool concepts are perceived that might revolve around something we label as “truth,” and they’re like puzzle pieces that get handed to us now and then, and when we get enough puzzle pieces they might form a whole puzzle. Except then that turns into a damn dogma – and that’s when it gets dangerous. Because we just isolated something into a freaking lame belief which gets us stuck in a damn rut.
But if we realize that “thing” we thought was a whole puzzle is just another piece of a larger cosmic puzzle, then we can keep going – and going and going. We’ve got the scope of infinity throughout existence, and we probably have all eternity, so when you die and leap out of your mortal coil of restriction, hopefully you’ll be free to explore further depths and heights and lengths and breadths and other extra-dimensional realities of existence – or go beyond all that crap too. But if you ask me, I would say just throw the whole damn puzzle away and start from scratch before you get stuck in that damned dogmatarianism rut.
Oh, that’s right, you asked me, what is anti-dogmatarianism, didn’t you? Well, if you’d been paying attention, you’d probably figure it out by now with all this heretical spiel I’ve spewed out.
But then, I’ve just began to spew!
I used to socialize and be part of the group; large groups, but soon I abandoned those strict dogmatic religious groups because I just couldn’t fit in. I became unfit-in-able. So I’ve gotten picky about whom I choose for friends, or people I associate with. I’ve pissed some people off before in these groups, the ones where I had to “shake off the dust of my feet,” partly because their dogmas were a bad taste in my mouth. What can I say? How about “Get your dogma off my karma!”
Even some of the esoteric groups out there have dogmas, even though they claim to be anti-dogmatic. I currently question all belief systems, until they prove themselves worthy. So from now on I don’t blindly accept any old belief system that blithely comes stumbling along – and I’ve studied them all! – but I will objectively observe them, weigh them cautiously, then decide if I should add this or that one to my haphazard collection. Which has shrunk over the years. I tend to reject more than I accept.
So I’ve become an “antidogmatarianist.”
“What the hell is that?” you ask. I’ll explain next time. But don’t hold your breath over it!
I’ve been contemplating the idea, or perhaps the nightmare, of finding aliens in my cereal box. I should call it aliens-in-cereal-box-phobia. It’s a weird kind of phobia, I know, but that’s what happens when you have a demented mind like mine. When you get those wacky kids’ cereals with rainbow colors and hard little marshmallows in them with wacky names like Lucky Patty’s Rainbow Flakes, or whatever, and the front of the box announced that there is a free prize inside — that’s when red lights and alarm bells go off in my fractured brain! Ding-ding-ding-ding! Then I hesitate for a few seconds, then I maniacally tear open the box like any old ravenous drooling kid, and I half expect to find a package a little green aliens at the bottom of my cereal box! Usually it doesn’t happen — but yesterday it did! Or was it just one of my weird schizophrenic episodes that bamboozles my brain now and then?
Anyway, so there was a clear cellophane package of five plastic aliens, bulb-headed, saucer-eyed, spindly armed, teeny-tiny green aliens. Then the next phobic fear I have is that they start moving around like they’re alive! And that happened too! Their buggy eyes blinked at me and their little arms move around, then with their little legs they started running around, making squealing sounds in some kind of alien language. Maybe they’re screaming, “I’m free, I’m free!” Or they might have been suffocating and saying, “Yuck! The air here sucks!”
Anyway, then they jump off the table and run across the tile floor and disappear somewhere, hopefully to be eaten by the little mouse in the hole in the corner of the kitchen. But with my luck, that won’t happen. Then my next phobic fear is that when I’m sleeping in bed, they’ll be crawling around under the sheets, tickling me, or doing weird alien experiments on me, like stick long needles in me, probing around for who knows what, or sticking implants under my skin, or whatever freaky shit they do! I don’t know what those pesky bite-size aliens are looking for, but as far as I’m concerned they’re not gonna get anything outa me! My greatest hope is that I’ll find them playing in the toilet bowl as if it were a swimming pool, then when they least expect it, I’ll suddenly flush them down! Bwoo-hahahahahaaaaaaah! Ain’t I mean?
I’m writing such a story like this and someday all stick it on the site — but first I have to wait for them to come out of hiding so I can get a better look at them. I think they’re crawling around inside the walls, like cockroaches! Hey! I can hear them now!
Oh, I almost forgot those End-Timers and their four horsemen of the dreaded apocalypse and that mangy Beast and his 666 mark, and the war in heaven and the Antichrist ruling for a thousand years or whatever and all that crap hanging over our heads! But then only “saved” born-again Christians will be biblically “raptured” and leave the rest of us behind! Except the Bible actually says nothing about Christians actually being “raptured” — especially not using that word. People will always misinterpret Scripture and proliferate religious misinformation and propaganda. Taking scripture far too literally is how they create Christian science fiction. And thanks to the Left Behind series, we’ve got a lot of that! Strangely, those authors think people don’t take the Bible literally enough! I heard that in an interview! Makes me wanna slap them upside the head! WOMP!
Oddly enough, Christian moviemakers will combine all these prophetic events with either 2012, falling asteroids, climate changes, alien invasion, paranormal activity, or anything to get attention and make a buck! I’ve even seen some Christian horror movies! More laughable than scary. But even if we are heading for a biblical apocalypse, I say pray against the worse, and hope for the best. Or is it pray for the best and hope against the worst?
If those sickly literal-minded born-again Christian fundamentalists are right, I reckon we gotta kiss our left-behind behinds and say good-bye!
Or just laugh it all!
The chances of the world being destroyed by either fire, flood, thermonuclear war, cataclysm, sun flares, global warming, planetary cooling ( ice age!) other miscellaneous climate changes, malevolent dictatorships, biochemical warfare, or alien invasion — are very high! My acute sense of healthy paranoia assures me of this audacious fact. I’m not sane enough to not be too cautious, but I’m just insane enough to get all panicky in order to do something about one or more of these hideous crises, but sometimes I go hair-yanking-outa-my-skull mad not knowing which one is going to actually hit us!
Before one of them hits, I suggest you stockpile food, water, candles, miscellaneous supplies, then hide in your basement or bomb shelter. And then bend over and kiss your ass goodbye!
The problem is, folks, we are headed for self-annihilation. I hate to be the bearer of bad news — unless I’m just expressing the rantings of a demented mind — but there’s very little intelligent life on this piece of rock we call Earth. Otherwise the world wouldn’t have the problems it’s having. Ma Nature might as well just roto-till us under and replant the Earth — this time without those stupid humans. If She doesn’t, we’ll beat her to it and destroy the whole kit-and-caboodle! Blast ourselves to smithereens! I think that’s why the aliens don’t get too close to us — which explains why they haven’t landed on the White House lawn yet — they’re afraid we’ll drag them into our putrid muck and mire. The least they could do is throw us a life raft instead of gawking and pointing at us like we’re a bunch of stupid lemmings running off the edge of the cliff to our deaths.
Am I sounding too optimistically pessimistic, so certain in our doom? But who’s gonna save us from ourselves? Or are we gonna be the ones to save our own sorry asses?
Good luck, fellow Homo-sapiens!
Life will suck you dry – unless you suck it back.
Life sometimes gives, and sometimes takes, so why not take back from it?
When life hands you shit, make fertilizer out of it. Your garden can use it. Yeah, I know, life often gives you lemons, but not everyone likes lemonade.
Alright, I gotta make a correction here — it’s not even really life that sucks, but what we think is life. Yeah, life on Earth can suck, or be cool. Life is actually the spirit-energy that flows through us and all living things. Yeah, too metaphysical for most, so suck it up! Suck up that life-force, folks!
But what really sucks is NOT life, but what many call the “mass mind,” or the collective negative thinking of humanity impinging itself on everyone, brainwashing us into submission, until we either have World War III or we totally annihilate ourselves. Then the cockroaches will evolve and take over the planet. Mankind will not even be a distant memory. Why? We’ve been trying to eradicate the cockroach population of the world, unsuccessful. RAID has been our friend, after all. So now those pesky pests have eradicated us in this apocalyptic setting. Yes, they will cleverly orchestrate something like a thermonuclear war so that we eventually destroy ourselves. How? I’m not really sure, but somehow those hideous vermin will get under our skin and cause us to mistrust each other and blame each other and hate one another, until we totally wipe ourselves out. Hence, the cockroaches will rule the world!
Okay it’s not a prophecy, just a possibility. Our only hope will be that the cockroaches do something stupid and destroy themselves along with us too, a kind of self-sacrifice scenario. Either that or aliens come down and wipe them out. I don’t know what’ll happen after that, maybe humans will somehow reappear on this planet in the 2000th Century, or whenever it’s safe to return.
In the meantime, folks, be nice to those ugly pesky cockroaches, so that when it’s their turn, they won’t totally eradicated us, they’ll just be nice to us and enslave us! Oh happy day!
Watch Joe’s Apartment and you’re perspective of cockroaches may change! Then again the movie could be a brainwash technique orchestrated by those insidious vermin! Yikes!
Why do middle-aged folks go through such a negative fiasco in life called the “midlife crisis”? Why should it be a crisis at all? How stupid! As a dude who’s reached that point in this current earthly life cycle, ludicrously crammed into this cranky body that’s looking and acting more like my old rust-bucket ‘76 Chevy Malibu (which I turned out to pasture of long ago), I realized we create this wretched crap to sabotage ourselves. From now on let’s call it a “Midlife Awakening.” I have discovered or rediscovered new things in life — well, new to me. Some people go through career changes at this point, or find new hobbies, or meet new friends, or join new groups, or other new opportunities come to them.
I think the “crisis” part is all in our heads. Getting older is not that horrible. You’re wiser and more experienced than others younger than you.
Incidentally, my son, wise beyond his years, came up with “Midlife Awakening” when I ignorantly used the old phrase. It makes you look at the whole scenario in a whole new way! Try it! You might like it!
Alright, what kind of weird impressions and freaky experiences am I talking about? Well sometimes I literally feel Ma Nature grab me by the throat and throttle me senseless, until I realized mankind’s perverted ways are too sick for me to indulge in, so I’d better stop it, eh?
Actually, it took realizing what the nature of the universe is all about, to help me shed the old skin of dogma and doctrine that I was brainwashed into for so many years. Some force of nature threw a brick at my head, which woke me from a sleeping stupor, then I saw the light. No, not that ultraviolet light that screwed me as a toddler, but the “inner sun” phenomenon I hinted at in an earlier post, some kind of spiritual light of awakening. A cosmic zen stick walloped me on the forehead and changed everything. I think that’s what really got my chakras spinning and kundalini all fired up.
So I’d get psychic messages now and then telling me to do this or that — not sure if they were angels or aliens or ascended masters or what. Sometimes I’d see these strange beings walk around or tell me things, or just hear their voices. Sometimes it was that “still small voice inside.” So if I’m not mildly schizophrenic, perhaps people like me are seeing through some kind of open window into another reality beyond the one we think is the “real world,” which is most likely the illusionary world, the world of the Matrix. Or maybe I’m just stark raving mad! Well, I get all these crazy ideas for my stories somehow.
Or maybe I’m just a victim of that sinister ultraviolet lamp I idiotically stared into that failed to turn me into a superhero, but could have left me a mindless vegetable, but instead I’ve become quite a weird character. A good friend of mine once said, “You’re really weird, but in a good way.”
Alright, I’ll settle with that.
For a while, due to that radical radioactive ultra-violent fiasco that turned me into a creature of the freaking night, yeah, a nightstalker, I wondered if I had become like those superheroes that had some freaky accident that transformed them into whatever superhero they became. Like Spider-Man got bit by a radioactive spider — or whatever — so he took on spider-like qualities – like a desire to wear some stupid spider suit and shoot rope out of his palms. Really cheesy, man! Then there’s Bruce Banner who overdosed on gamma rays that turned him into a big hulking green idiotic thug on mega-steroids or some dumb crap.
I wondered if my hideous experience did something extraordinary like that, like open up my Third Eye, or give me other improbable psychic abilities, or something freaky like this. I may be dense in many ways, like not understanding women, not grasping algebra, being boneheaded about life in general, but sometimes I get weird psychic impressions or freaky experiences that defy human logic — or is it all my crazy imagination? Are my schizophrenic episodes wreaking havoc on my demented brain again? Or am I just stark raving bonkers!
Whether or not that ultraviolet experience altered my DNA, or even my aura or kundalini or chakras or third eye, or just expanded my brain inside of my too small cranium causing annoying headaches now and then when I spend to much time out under the blazing sun, or whatever . . . I dunno. You’re radical guess is as good as my own stab in the dark attempt at endeavoring to figure out the freaking meaning of life, the universe, and everything — as the late Douglass Adams put it. So, yeah, we’re all hitchhikers in this freaking galaxy! Whether we’re searching for the proverbial restaurant at the end of the universe, or whatever, just don’t get left behind, ya’ll!