The inevitable march of secularism? Not so fast

[creekster]

We won't even be remembered 300 years from now. Joseph Smith tried to fight this void with the Malachi/Elijah "hearts of the fathers" burn the earth commandment thing, but there is nothing new under the sun. Sure, we might leave a trace, a huella, a thumb/finger/imprint of some kind, but making our mark on the world is not the same thing as being remembered. You and I will suffer the second death, which isn't the dreaded spiritual death that Joseph, et al, warned us of, it's the last day that someone remembers who you were and cared enough to feel a little twinge of longing for your presence.

There is no perpetual archive. There might be words preserved, but just like those voices hailed from the hardened dust of cuneiform, they might have "meaning" but they are faceless and lack any kind of significance for their authors. If you want infinite existence, better get working on Jane and the singularity, otherwise, Game over, man. GAME OVER!

Is this some sort of pop reference with which I am unfamiliar?

[tooblue]

We won't even be remembered 300 years from now. Joseph Smith tried to fight this void with the Malachi/Elijah "hearts of the fathers" burn the earth commandment thing, but there is nothing new under the sun. Sure, we might leave a trace, a huella, a thumb/finger/imprint of some kind, but making our mark on the world is not the same thing as being remembered. You and I will suffer the second death, which isn't the dreaded spiritual death that Joseph, et al, warned us of, it's the last day that someone remembers who you were and cared enough to feel a little twinge of longing for your presence.

There is no perpetual archive. There might be words preserved, but just like those voices hailed from the hardened dust of cuneiform, they might have "meaning" but they are faceless and lack any kind of significance for their authors. If you want infinite existence, better get working on Jane and the singularity, otherwise, Game over, man. GAME OVER!

The archive I am interested in does not rely on the imperfect technology that is language, i.e. words, wether spoken or written, but rather it is DNA. Our DNA is derived from the universe and the universe is infinite, ever-expanding and therefore it is perpetual, meaning you and I are never ending. Notions of being remembered or forgotten are tied to the arrow of time, which is a construct. Only finite thinking men measure time—something that does not exist and that is ultimately irrelevant.

How old is man, as we know him? Very old, much older than has been contemplated. The narrative I will leave behind and that will be leveraged and built upon by each successive generation that follows, is my own unique capacity for creativity and imaginative thought. Those thoughts will be captured in the strands, or computationally speaking, as a string of ones and zeros left to run out as programmed, ad infinitum. It's easy to forget, but we are the singularity.

Though each one of us are not original beings, we are distinct and unique beings—copies of a copy, of a copy ... For as long as existence persists, so will that distinctness and uniqueness as it contributes to the whole, both the explicate and implicate order of things in this reality. I've shared this before, but it fits here nicely:

[tooblue]

Is this some sort of pop reference with which I am unfamiliar?

It's from the movie Aliens.

[wuapinmon]

What do you mean by this, because I am not certain I agree that is what nihilism espouses.

Metaphysical nihilism argues that while the actual planet might be concrete, all creations--be they concrete or abstract--of man are abstractions thereof, and only exist as we perceive them. That's what I mean.

Haha. Wuap owning this thread.

Dang it, we already have a wuap smiley: () or I would rename this one in his honor:

Don't confuse thinking life is meaningless with thinking that life isn't worth living. We are beings towards death, sure, but there is an imperative to live; even if you go to the basest biological imperative, it's there, per tooblue's DNA piper song. I say, however, that the imperative to live is to maximize happiness, not bothering trying to imbue that happiness with any meaning. We are that we might have joy, but that joy doesn't have to mean anything. We can try and overlay meaning onto the joy that we get from a baby's smile, or seeing our kids accomplish something, or the 2022 BYU Sugar Bowl win, but there won't be any. If we just accept the awe we feel in those moments of bliss, relish the happiness that stems from them, then the times when wretchedness, heartache, sorrow, anger, and wroth work their way into our lives will not degrade our spirits in the same ways that they do when we try and look for meaning in human suffering, because there is none. Try and find any meaning in the rape and murder of little Jessica Lunsford. And, don't try and tell me that that was part of His Plan. You can't. People at church try it, and I hate them for it. From the mouths of Christians, God is the most heinous, depraved killer of all time. Joseph Smith tried to give meaning to human suffering in D&C 59:21.

The archive I am interested does not rely on the imperfect technology that is language, i.e. words, wether spoken or written, but rather it is DNA. Our DNA is derived from the universe and the universe is infinite, ever-expanding and therefore it is perpetual, meaning you and I are never ending. Notions of being remembered or forgotten are tied to the arrow of time, which is a construct. Only finite thinking men measure time—something that does not exist and that is ultimately irrelevant.

How old is man, as we know him? Very old, much older than has been contemplated. The narrative I will leave behind and that will be leveraged and built upon by each successive generation that follows, is my own unique capacity for creativity and imaginative thought. Those thoughts will be captured in the strands, or computationally speaking, as a string of ones and zeros left to run out ad infinitum. It's easy to forget, but we are the singularity.

Though each one of us are not original beings, we are distinct and unique beings—copies of a copy, of a copy ... For as long as existence persists, so will that distinctness and uniqueness as it contributes to the whole, both the explicate and implicate order of things in this reality. I've shared this before, but it fits here nicely:

If my family and I all die in a car crash tomorrow, the DNA ends. Unless we're talking some Clackamas multiple dimension type shit here, or Platonic infinite time and matter stuff, my DNA won't replicate itself ex-nihilio.

Is this some sort of pop reference with which I am unfamiliar?

Aliens, Speaker for the Dead, and Irvin Yalow.

[creekster]

Wuap, I am very sympathetic with your complaint about people claiming that horrible things are part of God's plan. But I cant support you 'hating' them for it. They are, after all, just like you, trying to find their way in a difficult and sometimes bewildering world. If they lack the ability to sort through their thoughts and emotions in a careful and critical way, or if they have found solace in some approach that you have discarded, they do not deserve hate, they deserve patience and love, just like you and I do when we make mistakes or take a wrongheaded approach. Intent matters. Be patient.

[wuapinmon]

Wuap, I am very sympathetic with your complaint about people claiming that horrible things are part of God's plan. But I cant support you 'hating' them for it. They are, after all, just like you, trying to find their way in a difficult and sometimes bewildering world. If they lack the ability to sort through their thoughts and emotions in a careful and critical way, or if they have found solace in some approach that you have discarded, they do not deserve hate, they deserve patience and love, just like you and I do when we make mistakes or take a wrongheaded approach. Intent matters. Be patient.

I don't hate the simple folks who are doing the best with what they have to work with. I know I shouldn't hate; hate only serves to hurt me. I don't want to hate. I want to not hate, but I can't vanquish the hatred from my heart when I hear someone truly intelligent stand up before a congregation, like say, oh, my stake president two weeks ago, and tell us that the massacre in Las Vegas was all part of God's Plan and we have to just accept that. I took last weekend off of church and just went and walked around a nature area by myself from dawn until late afternoon, in the only church that God actually built, trying to search for some kind of peace, because I wasn't finding it in the hallowed latex-coated cinderblocks of the Hartsville Ward.

[wuapinmon]

The 10 year anniversary of my father's death approaching at the end of the month may or may not have me contemplating my mortality and what I want from life. I just know that three classes in a row on Tuesday not having a single student with their homework done took something out of me that I can't seem to find again. I feel like I'm in an imitation of life right now. Church sucks, the goddamned suits have taken over the academy, politics are insane, and ever since I had surgery in August I feel my age like never before. When I look in the mirror, I see my father's face and then I see him lying in that hospital bed, kidney dialysis tubes stuck directly into his neck, the respirator making his entire massive body quake every 10 seconds, and the Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease causing him to startle anytime his bed moved (to prevent bedsores), so my dad was doing the Moro reflex like a little baby, only he was a grown man with forearms as thick as most people's legs. I can smell the caustic soap and hear the beeping of the several monitors and hear the voice of the annoyingly patronizing palliative physician who wanted us to take him off life support as soon as she could get us to, and once I told her to do it, the old bastard said (metaphorically, he was in a persistent vegetative state) "SCREW YOU" and started breathing on his own and lived for another seven hours. Every time his heart would dip into the high 30's, she'd say, "This is it" and just to spite her, it'd go back up. But, eventually, he died. And now it's been 10 years, and my oldest has 2 memories of him. My boy, none at all. My mom got remarried and dropped my dad's last name. She sold my dad's company and they took his name off the masthead last month.

We all become forefathers, by and by.

[tooblue]

Metaphysical nihilism argues that while the actual planet might be concrete, all creations--be they concrete or abstract--of man are abstractions thereof, and only exist as we perceive them. That's what I mean.



Don't confuse thinking life is meaningless with thinking that life isn't worth living. We are beings towards death, sure, but there is an imperative to live; even if you go to the basest biological imperative, it's there, per tooblue's DNA piper song. I say, however, that the imperative to live is to maximize happiness, not bothering trying to imbue that happiness with any meaning. We are that we might have joy, but that joy doesn't have to mean anything. We can try and overlay meaning onto the joy that we get from a baby's smile, or seeing our kids accomplish something, or the 2022 BYU Sugar Bowl win, but there won't be any. If we just accept the awe we feel in those moments of bliss, relish the happiness that stems from them, then the times when wretchedness, heartache, sorrow, anger, and wroth work their way into our lives will not degrade our spirits in the same ways that they do when we try and look for meaning in human suffering, because there is none. Try and find any meaning in the rape and murder of little Jessica Lunsford. And, don't try and tell me that that was part of His Plan. You can't. People at church try it, and I hate them for it. From the mouths of Christians, God is the most heinous, depraved killer of all time. Joseph Smith tried to give meaning to human suffering in D&C 59:21.



If my family and I all die in a car crash tomorrow, the DNA ends. Unless we're talking some Clackamas multiple dimension type shit here, or Platonic infinite time and matter stuff, my DNA won't replicate itself ex-nihilio.



Aliens, Speaker for the Dead, and Irvin Yalow.

I'm not speaking in multi-dimensional terms. Our DNA is derived from universal matter, therefore it can never be ex-nihilio, because it always existed, and it is tangible and measurable.

Regardless of when you will die, you have already contributed to the whole, by virtue of the fact you were born. Your DNA does not end with you if you and your children die before it is passed on in rudimentary biological terms, precisely because it does not belong exclusively to you and your children. It belongs to your parents, it belongs to your siblings and their children, it belongs to the many generations that begat you, of which you are merely one branch, but there are many other branches other than you, and there will be many more that follow.

Considered differently, in Mormon theological terms, the sealing power does not only go one way. For example, when I was sealed to my wife, I was also sealed to her siblings and parents, and their parents before them, meaning she is not only sealed to me, but rather we are sealed together as one knitted link in a never-ending thread, that contributes to a ever woven tapestry.

The fact we are having this exchange confirms my assertions: you have now contributed to my awareness of the whole that is our collective reality. Your ideas are now in part my ideas, and they will be encoded into my DNA, which will be passed on. But if I, and all my children, as with you and your children die before, in rudimentary biological terms, that DNA is passed on, there are many others here who have read this exchange, and who will pass it on as it will be encoded into their DNA. It's inescapable.

[tooblue]

The 10 year anniversary of my father's death approaching at the end of the month may or may not have me contemplating my mortality and what I want from life. I just know that three classes in a row on Tuesday not having a single student with their homework done took something out of me that I can't seem to find again. I feel like I'm in an imitation of life right now. Church sucks, the goddamned suits have taken over the academy, politics are insane, and ever since I had surgery in August I feel my age like never before. When I look in the mirror, I see my father's face and then I see him lying in that hospital bed, kidney dialysis tubes stuck directly into his neck, the respirator making his entire massive body quake every 10 seconds, and the Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease causing him to startle anytime his bed moved (to prevent bedsores), so my dad was doing the Moro reflex like a little baby, only he was a grown man with forearms as thick as most people's legs. I can smell the caustic soap and hear the beeping of the several monitors and hear the voice of the annoyingly patronizing palliative physician who wanted us to take him off life support as soon as she could get us to, and once I told her to do it, the old bastard said (metaphorically, he was in a persistent vegetative state) "SCREW YOU" and started breathing on his own and lived for another seven hours. Every time his heart would dip into the high 30's, she'd say, "This is it" and just to spite her, it'd go back up. But, eventually, he died. And now it's been 10 years, and my oldest has 2 memories of him. My boy, none at all. My mom got remarried and dropped my dad's last name. She sold my dad's company and they took his name off the masthead last month.

We all become forefathers, by and by.

I hear you wuap. Currently, my union is on strike, I too am getting old and politics across the globe are insane. Regardless, there is a lot of good in this world.

[Pelado]

We can try and overlay meaning onto the joy that we get from a baby's smile, or seeing our kids accomplish something, or the 2022 BYU Sugar Bowl win, but there won't be any.

From your post to God's ears (assuming he/she/it can hear).

Sent from my SM-G930V using Tapatalk

[Jeff Lebowski]

The 10 year anniversary of my father's death approaching at the end of the month may or may not have me contemplating my mortality and what I want from life. I just know that three classes in a row on Tuesday not having a single student with their homework done took something out of me that I can't seem to find again. I feel like I'm in an imitation of life right now. Church sucks, the goddamned suits have taken over the academy, politics are insane, and ever since I had surgery in August I feel my age like never before. When I look in the mirror, I see my father's face and then I see him lying in that hospital bed, kidney dialysis tubes stuck directly into his neck, the respirator making his entire massive body quake every 10 seconds, and the Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease causing him to startle anytime his bed moved (to prevent bedsores), so my dad was doing the Moro reflex like a little baby, only he was a grown man with forearms as thick as most people's legs. I can smell the caustic soap and hear the beeping of the several monitors and hear the voice of the annoyingly patronizing palliative physician who wanted us to take him off life support as soon as she could get us to, and once I told her to do it, the old bastard said (metaphorically, he was in a persistent vegetative state) "SCREW YOU" and started breathing on his own and lived for another seven hours. Every time his heart would dip into the high 30's, she'd say, "This is it" and just to spite her, it'd go back up. But, eventually, he died. And now it's been 10 years, and my oldest has 2 memories of him. My boy, none at all. My mom got remarried and dropped my dad's last name. She sold my dad's company and they took his name off the masthead last month.

We all become forefathers, by and by.

Wuap, I am sorry you are having a rough week. Hang in there, amigo.

A few years back I read a book on OT theology. The author pointed out that in the early part of the OT there is no mention of a heaven or an afterlife. It first appeared many centuries into the story. I hadn't ever noticed that before, but he was right. The author speculated that ancient peoples invented the concept of an afterlife to explain away the great injustices of life. "Yes, life is a bitch, but everything will be made right in the afterlife." A page or two back you speculated that maybe a belief in God in general is simply part of our DNA. That very well could be. Perhaps those of our ancestors who were able to attach some meaning and structure and justice and hope to life were more likely to be happy and attract mates and reproduce and not jump off a cliff or bash their heads against the cave wall. Perhaps natural selection as described by Darwin created religion. That would be ironic!

I think "meaning" can encompass many things. The only thing that is 100% real and does not require any faith or memory is the here and now. If you love someone and they love you, if you are doing things to serve and help others and make the world a better place RIGHT NOW, then your life has meaning in my book. That might be the only meaning that really matters.

[Topper]

I think "meaning" can encompass many things. The only thing that is 100% real and does not require any faith or memory is the here and now. If you love someone and they love you, if you are doing things to serve and help others and make the world a better place RIGHT NOW, then your life has meaning in my book. That might be the only meaning that really matters.

Bravo! It is what is meaningful to me. Thanks for the simple expression of it.

[creekster]

I don't hate the simple folks who are doing the best with what they have to work with. I know I shouldn't hate; hate only serves to hurt me. I don't want to hate. I want to not hate, but I can't vanquish the hatred from my heart when I hear someone truly intelligent stand up before a congregation, like say, oh, my stake president two weeks ago, and tell us that the massacre in Las Vegas was all part of God's Plan and we have to just accept that. I took last weekend off of church and just went and walked around a nature area by myself from dawn until late afternoon, in the only church that God actually built, trying to search for some kind of peace, because I wasn't finding it in the hallowed latex-coated cinderblocks of the Hartsville Ward.

Its hard to say what that SP meant when he said that. Why impute your worst interpretation onto his statement? If you believe in a deist God who wound us all up and now just watches us march toward out entropic end, then the Vegas shooting WAS part of His plan. Free will and its exercise being our ultimate purpose here, then how we deal with its exercise by others is also part of His plan, and so on. In other words, there are many possible ways to explain and support the Stake President's statement that should not lead you to hate him. That all said, you, too, need to find your happiness. We all do.

[creekster]

The 10 year anniversary of my father's death approaching at the end of the month may or may not have me contemplating my mortality and what I want from life. I just know that three classes in a row on Tuesday not having a single student with their homework done took something out of me that I can't seem to find again. I feel like I'm in an imitation of life right now. Church sucks, the goddamned suits have taken over the academy, politics are insane, and ever since I had surgery in August I feel my age like never before. When I look in the mirror, I see my father's face and then I see him lying in that hospital bed, kidney dialysis tubes stuck directly into his neck, the respirator making his entire massive body quake every 10 seconds, and the Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease causing him to startle anytime his bed moved (to prevent bedsores), so my dad was doing the Moro reflex like a little baby, only he was a grown man with forearms as thick as most people's legs. I can smell the caustic soap and hear the beeping of the several monitors and hear the voice of the annoyingly patronizing palliative physician who wanted us to take him off life support as soon as she could get us to, and once I told her to do it, the old bastard said (metaphorically, he was in a persistent vegetative state) "SCREW YOU" and started breathing on his own and lived for another seven hours. Every time his heart would dip into the high 30's, she'd say, "This is it" and just to spite her, it'd go back up. But, eventually, he died. And now it's been 10 years, and my oldest has 2 memories of him. My boy, none at all. My mom got remarried and dropped my dad's last name. She sold my dad's company and they took his name off the masthead last month.

We all become forefathers, by and by.

May you find peace as you remember your father and contemplate how he remains with you, even now. Best.

[Jeff Lebowski]

A young wuap is taken to the doctor by his mother: