Revised July, 2017
Okay! We’ve made it this far; no turning back now! But, before continuing, a quick review.
Our Earthbound Human, one day out of the blue, finds himself on a floating rock, which he dubs Earth…
No. Hold on. Let’s try that again, this time being painfully honest.
Out of the blue (literally), this miniscule speck of an Earthbound Human opens his eyes and finds himself a stumbling, incoherent, grunting, knuckle scraping, evolving creature on a floating rock.
While it’s inconsequential as to how he came to be on the rock, he somehow knows he is not in Kansas anymore, and he’s scared.
Still, almost immediately, inherent instincts kick in. He scrounges for anything he can eat; he searches out clean water to drink.
He knows to hide from the multitude of other predatory creatures, large, small, and enormous, also looking for something to eat; sometimes he’s successful in avoiding them, sometimes not. The simple fact was, everything was in the food chain then, just like everything is in the food chain now.
He seeks out shelter to protect himself, shield himself from driving wind and rain, frightening thunder and lightening, from the hunters that lurk after the burning rock above him disappears, leaving him in total darkness and vulnerable.
There you go, that’s a little better.
For in short, on his waking, that is to say, becoming cognitively aware of his situation, on the activation of his conscious, the switching on of his brain and all the baseline coding it contained, EBH instinctively, immediately launched into all out survival mode, just like every other creature on the rock.
Fast forward millions upon millions of never ceasing rotations of his rock on it’s axis, coupled with it’s never ceasing orbit around it’s glaring fire rock.
Important note. EBH will come to refer to this constant twirling spinning of his rock as the passage of time. The primary measurement of his time based on the appearance (rising), and disappearance (setting), of the fire rock.
As I explained, EBH was creative and imaginative. In truth, he did not have a clue his rock was rotating at all, or that it was further orbiting around a yellow star; he only knew the bright glowing thing above him was there, then it wasn’t.
But, you and I know better; we understand there is actually no such thing as time, at least not the way EBH has created. You and I know there is only the perpetual, methodic rotation of the Earth on it’s axis, and it’s equally methodic, perpetual orbital trek around the Sun.
What EBH will come to refer to as his past and his future are but illusions. Biologically, and more so, neurologically speaking, his past is actually nothing more than select stored memories, recalled frequently (not necessarily as originally experienced), therefore presenting as reality. His future, likewise an illusion based on memories of events observed, or activity he has participated in, or seen others engaged in. Little Johnny’s future is in medicine because he has watched all 87 seasons of Boston General.
EBH’s time concept, his seconds, minutes, hours, his day, month, and year, like everything else, was born out of ignorance, clever little creations based on repetitive observations (memories) of astrological events, events which could (and will, someday) drastically change, even cease.
The black void? The other rocks? The possibility of other life forms? All beyond EBH’s comprehension for reasons yet to be discussed. But please note, Caveman EBH produced art depicting what could be construed as alien images (Scotty?), and odd shaped objects, perhaps some kind of craft, but more on that later.
For in reality, EBH exists only in the here and now, the present, the moment; the twirling of his rock has absolutely nothing to do with his existence, other than the fact that as long as it keeps spinning, EBH keeps living; and that applies to every living creature, great and small.
I’m throwing in one more irrefutable fact just for grins and giggles. Just as the rock rotates perpetually on it’s axis, just as the rock orbits perpetually around the yellow star, so does EBH exist perpetually. For his existence begins with the first beat of his heart, and ends only with the last beat. There are no pauses, there are no time outs, there are no do overs or restarts in life. EBH can only rest himself, but no matter how often, or how long he rests, his heart continues to beat, his lungs continue to deliver oxygen, his metabolism continues to maintain tissue 24/7.
Interesting, don’t you think? The rock stops its perpetual rotation, EBH dies. The heart stops its perpetual beating, EBH dies.
As for the infamous “beginning of time,” and the even more dramatic “end of days,” just fantastical creative writing to nip at the mass’s fear and obsession with the unknown, toy with his sense of guilt, and take advantage of his mindless ignorance. (Remember, Mommy did not leave a DYI Manual warning against stupidity.)
What creative writers rarely explain to their readership is, the last chapter is simply that, the last chapter, the end of the story; at least until the next installment.
For common sense dictates, if a story depicts characters and situations that defy the accepted laws of physics, biology, and chemistry, such as do mythological supernatural gods and goddesses, and their dungeons and dragons sparring partners, the argument the story is truthful is moot.
No one lives hundreds of years, much less forever. In the real world, on the actual spinning, orbiting rock, it’s the raw biological, natural process of decay that will prevail.
There simply is no fabricated, fictionalized fairytale ending involving gods and heavens, demons and hells.
Again, one’s past is constructed by memories; therefore, the EBH immersed, inundated by mythological stories of god’s and heavens, perhaps even forced to believe (brainwashed), intimidated into accepting related fictional doctrines daily, week after week, decades after decade, that EBH will begin to process the fiction as fact. The EBH’s mind could even create hallucinations based on stored memories.
On the other hand, the EBH who reads those same mythological stories, listens to the same mythology based doctrines, but consciously does so understanding they are created, fabricated fiction, does store the memories as well, but stores them as insignificant to existence.
Sadly, the latter described EBH is the minority on the rock.
And so it was, despite the truth, despite the science, despite the empirical evidence staring EBH square in the face, he either simply could not grasp it, or he simply chose to ignore it.
Despite his observing the birth of EBH offspring, and observing the death of those same offspring at some point during their life on the rock, some as soon as one twirl, others hundreds of twirls, still others more; despite observing that alone, EBH could not make the vital distinction between reality and fantasy.
Now, earlier I hypothesized that, perhaps, most of what EBH exhibited as learned skills, abilities, were in actuality recalled traits embedded deep within his subconscious, possibly even encoded genetically. I also offered that some recalled data could surface corrupted, indecipherable, unreliable. This concept of eternal life could stem from such misunderstood data.
This could be the case because, in truth, matter never truly ceases to exist.
Consider, if you will, the science and logic.
The number of spins the rock takes on it’s axis, the number of orbits around the burning rock an EBH was to enjoy was anybody’s guess then, as is anybody’s guess now. And while it’s true, all creatures great and small would cease to exist, cease to breathe, it was also true nothing, absolutely nothing leaves the rock.
Everything that has ever walked and talked, flowered or bore fruit, swam or flew, is still on the rock today, only in their new phase of existence.
In this regard, EBH does in fact exist for all eternity.
And so it happened that EBH, assumedly, up to this point, the brightest of all Earthbound creatures, considering his guiding conscious, totally screws up.
Now, considering all the positives, which included some pretty impressive accomplishments, EBH had nothing to hang his head over. He had advanced himself physically, emotionally, cognitively, and even consciously to a level of fledgling intelligence; he had developed communicative and social skills that further allowed him to positively engage with other EBHs.
But more impressive was the fact he had survived his primal phase at all.
So it made absolutely no sense, none whatsoever, that he would forgo everything he knows to be good, everything he has come to know as progress, to abandon a prosperous, emerging co-existence with his global EBH brothers and sisters, and take his tribe down a new path, a dark path, a path he will instead pave with the blood of those same brothers and sisters.
He even chooses to deny female EBH. Wait. Did I say deny? I meant, he opens up a super-sized can of raw humiliation, degradation, exploitation, subjugation, and if that wasn’t enough, subjects her, and her daughters, to the most horrendous, despicable, unconscionable physical torture and deaths his demented imagination could invent.
Let’s be perfectly clear here, because this single decision not only epitomizes EBH’s ignorance and stupidity, but substantiates that he is unfit to serve in any leadership position on the rock, at least not without strong supervision.
So here we go, one more time for clarity; EBH, incomprehensibly takes the mythologically based social position that condemns, and I state that as a literal fact, the female EBH; the woman who struggled side by side with him through the primal phase, probably got him through the primal phase. The woman who helped not only establish the tribal networks, but led and advanced a lot of those fledgling communities. The woman that was the legitimate source of lineage and heritage. His grandmother. His mother. His sister. The mother of his daughter.
Turning against her alone instantaneously reduced him from a specimen growing in stature, displaying potential to rule, someday, next to female EBH, reduced him into a hopeless loser.
So, what drives EBH to lose it? To simply chuck it all away? Let’s find out.
Let us never forget, EBH thrived on creativity and imagination. These were his driving processes, his universal strengths (and follies). But on handing over the keys to the kingdom, the empire (Mesopotamia, 3400 B.C.E.), over to the priests, the occult, the Shaman, he literally sold his soul (and the rock) to Satan incarnate.
In truth (Satan doesn’t exist), EBH was outsmarted (which apparently was not that difficult) by the greatest, most profitable con in the history of EBH to date (there’s still time).
You see, the priests (here used universally, in that there is no difference between Shaman other than their tags), knew how to run a ruse.
They first employed the best creative writers, and these masters of poetry and prose set to creating the literature that still reigns as the greatest story ever told.
Let’s face it, there were not that many truly gifted creative writers back then, and when the gig is to create the genesis of all EBHs? In essence, to create the entire universe? Come on! This was the gig of gigs! And as it turned out, the result is the rock’s all time best seller.
For these writers knew well, there was nothing more powerful than the well written word, especially when the recipients of those words were ignorant and illiterate and highly impressionable, simple minded chattel.
Now, let’s be clear. I’m not only speaking of the incredibly famous story of Jesus, the Nazarene, and his all powerful God father; I’m speaking of the equally fantastical, mind spelling, heart throbbing stories of Zeus, Odin, Ra, and the myriad of others that were opening across the rock.
No matter whose name was in lights on the marquee, one couldn’t go wrong with any choice as the creative writers were in their prime. Virtually all exceeded expectations in creating the most spectacular stories ever, almost all still dazzling EBH to date.
Deities were the Rock stars of the day, many even battling each other over lowly, Earthbound human.
EBH was effectively distracted by this latest rage, and that translated to pay dirt for the priests, across the board.
Having said that, allow me to clear something up. I am using the term genesis in the sense of origination. I understand, considering all the literary works pertaining to organized religions, a few doctrinal collections may include a chapter entitled Genesis, but I am not referencing that chapter. I am merely referring to the origination of EBH, an event, to this day, still very much a mystery.
Now, I must interject this quick note. For while creative writers can enjoy immense success, they also live in a precarious world, including, but not limited to, dealing with the curse of the copyright.
And now let’s consider the book of Genesis as an example. For the first known draft of this book, fantastic as I’m sure it was, is (allegedly) forever lost. The true author(s)? Unknown (at least, unrevealed). The date drafted? Not a clue. Royalties to this guy(s)? Nada. Nil. Not a dime.
You see, literary work, all literary work, produced for whatever reason, all literary work undergoes a process known as revising and editing (or should). If the originator does not maintain control of his piece, his work, throughout this process, well, it’s the old snooze you loose thing, especially if the work turns out to be a hit.
The collection of books known as The Bible, are some of the most read books ever printed, but the original writers, their heirs, are not making a dime from the popular works. (Of course, I’ll tell who is; just keep reading.)
I stated it was crucial for a writer to protect his work, typically referred to as academic, or intellectual property; today, a writer has detailed copyright laws to help him protect his drafts. But even today, the laws can get tricky. For example, if I were producing this work on an employer’s computer, the millions of dollars I stand to make on sales could be awarded to that employer, considering it was produced on company equipment.
Now consider the following.
Christianity is just one of the untold number of organized religions in existence (some two thousand known) across the rock today; and, most of these are further divided into a myriad of lesser denominations, congregations, fellowships, cults, sects, covens, etcetera etcetera.
One such denomination are the Baptist, which claim an impressive membership.
The Baptist prefer the King James Bible as their literary doctrinal work. This version of the bible was commissioned by King James I of England in 1611, ergo his name adorning the title (more on King James later). Again, questionable authorship, questionable overlapping timelines, untold number of revisions by an unknown number of writers.
Yet, this literary work is still published and sold globally as the irrefutable, undeniable, under the threat of heresy, the very word of the adopted Christian deity, God.
Now, The King James Bible is one of the most popular versions in print, undeniably. Five major denominations adopt it as their official bible. But, recently, a hand written copy of The King James Bible (at least a portion) was found archived in the Cambridge University library.
Mislabeled as a commentary, the hand scribed treasure had gone undetected for who knows how long. The researcher that made the find, American scholar Jeffrey Alan Miller, on inspecting the text, acknowledged the work as authentic, however, not a commentary at all, rather as an actual revision of scripture in progress.
The revisionist accomplishing the work, a well known King James translator, Samuel Ward, was in fact utilizing all the cutting and reorganizing techniques universally accepted in revising and editing such work.
There was no evidence, Miller further comments, of divine intervention; so, he notes, if this was in fact the irrefutable written word of God, then God was clearly a disciplined revisionist.
I don’t add this anecdote to discount the existence of any deity, in any form, rather only to stress the point that EBH had grasped the concept of fiction imitating life, and took that concept to a whole new level. For if the word of God is indeed perfect, never to be challenged, under the threat of heresy, under the threat of death (a fate many suffered), no EBH should have ever needed to revise or edit a single word, much less an entire book.
Irrefutably, the altering of one line effectively corrupted the work, invalidating it.
The revising and editing, the marketing, the collection of one penny for these alleged words of God Almighty make it trash, and believe me billions have been made by enterprising EBH selling God’s Word.
But not to worry, all, there is irrefutable evidence that testifies to the true origin of all these stories, all very Earthly indeed.
And that’s why The Book of Genesis, and every book that followed, had to read a certain way.
The drafter of Genesis, while unknown, is credited with producing one of the most impactful works of fiction ever written. Yet, almost immediately the masterpiece went into revision.
It seems the writer penned in a voluptuous, confidently beautiful, Lilith as the first woman created by God; and, we’re told, this first woman was supposed to serve as a sidekick of sorts to the first man, a.k.a., Adam.
Well, apparently, there were some major issues with how the character Lilith was depicted, beginning with how she was created.
It seems the woman, in this particular version of the genesis (there are many), was supposed to be created from one of Adam’s ribs, to cleverly attest to her subservient status to his. Well, the writer must have missed that memo, as I’m sure happened back then also, because he created Lilith from the same Earth, dust, as Adam, making her his equal.
Okay, big boo-boo there, true, but next the writer developed Lilith, not as a docile, obedient, submissive little go-fer mate, rather as a rebellious, non-conformist, staunchly independent woman, who was not about to play second fiddle to no man, first, second, or last created; and then, there was this little something about her sexual appetite and demands to be on top in the boudoir. (This writer was great!)
When Adam demanded her compliance (per God’s command), and full submission to his will, she simply packed her gear and walked. (Probably the most powerful lesson in The Bible to women.)
It was clear Adam could not handle this first lady on his own, and had to make that call for reinforcements, and sure enough, mediators were dispatched from above.
Apparently, exercising her womanly prerogatives, mind made up, Lilith not only has the audacity to argue with and refuse the commands of not one, but three Archangels, Angels sent by God himself to deal with her, uh, attitude, she also (allegedly) manages to seduce yet a fourth Archangel, Samael (several times).
I would have loved to have been that fly on the wall the day the head Shaman read the draft! And I applaud the writer for his ground breaking feminism, although I’m certain he was quickly reassigned to the hymnal writing department, because this was intolerable to those who commissioned the work.
Enter the revising and editing team.
Sadly, feisty Lilith, probably in the first revision, undoubtedly the target of the first revision, was quickly wished into the cornfield, replaced by a more compliant, more submissive, more (ahem) womanly Eve.
However the original of any deity focused book read, the seemingly constant revisions, each more embellished than the last, characters, personalities, and situations more and more fantastical, offer today’s reader versions that encompass just about every conceivable, however implausible, anti-physics, anti-matter, anti-logic scenarios ever concocted and offered in print. (Lilith was revived, only to return as the most horrible, evil, murdering, villainous She-monster of all She-monsters, whose specialty was devouring babies.)
The expression delusion of grandeur is an understatement in this case, for EBH successfully, however incredibly, elevated himself from grunting, bumbling, murderous, adulterous fool to someone worthy of experiencing a personal linking, a communique, a face to face interaction with his Grand Creator; check that, the Creator of absolutely everything living and not living, the rock itself, all surrounding rocks, the Sun that lit up his day, and the Moon that illuminated the night.
Just as every tribe concocted their own physical representation of a deity, be it a ram’s head, a half man half falcon, a calf, a tree, so they created their own mind boggling stories of their deities earthly manifestations and messages.
Suffice it to be said that each of those stories were then, as they are today entertaining, imaginative, and all seem to satisfy the emotional needs of that particular tribe (or not).
Suffice it also to be said, each deity, in and of themselves, offered the faithful individual EBH believer a sense of purpose and internal, if not eternal, security and safety.
When I was sailing across the Pacific, I knew Poseidon, god of the oceans was watching over me.
Now for the reality of all this, for it is not the multitude of gods, or their fantastic stories that truly matter. What does matter are the self-proclaimed Sha-man, which kind of rhymes with Con-man, who saw opportunity to corrupt the faith of the believer, and in the process, make a few bucks.
For with his growing sophistication and silver tongue glib, ever improving persuasive writing skills, a powerful, very powerful new deity to exploit, and lots of hair tonic, EBH now realized a new strength, the power of control and subjugation of the consciously weak masses.
Through his growing cleverness, EBH quickly learned to use those inspiring, emotional, deeply moving, heart wrenching, highly entertaining and engaging “religious doctrines” to initiate the grandest ruse ever perpetrated against his fellow EBH.
For, EBH was still not content with all he had acquired or enjoyed; no, not content at all.
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