Wednesday 22 October 2008

Entry 52: in which I ruminate further on the Mrs God thing

Now you must not think that I am obsessed by Mrs God, worthy though she it. It's just this hole in my memory that's nagging away at me.

While cogitating thus I stumbled across a rather frightening possibility. Has there always been a Mrs God? And if that's weird, it is any weirder than not having the faintest idea of how we met?

But this leads to further desperately worrying thoughts. Like has there always been me? It certainly feels like it but that's no criterion.

The alternative is almost worse, which is if there hasn't always been me, then how did I spring into being? Presumably some (even) higher entity created me.

But it gets worse and worse. Did a 'higher' higher entity then create the higher entity that created me? This is getting ridiculous. Even I can see an infinite regress when it's about to run me over.

The only crumb of comfort that I can glean from this is that spotty undergraduates in odd corners of the sentient universe will be beating their brains out over exactly the same thing.

Serve them right.

9 comments:

Jeannie said...

I'm so enjoying these ruminations!

Relative to this one - when I was about 10 I had a vision. I was lying on the beach at Natures Valley (not far from Knysna & Plett on the Garden Route) and this was in the pre-electricity days, when the Valley was only lit by gas. The stars were utterly, utterly astounding; lying flat you were never sure if you were looking up, falling forwards or floating free. Anyway. I suddenly saw the stars as tiny particles or atoms in a greater body, and realised that I was just a little atom myself, part of this greater body. Then I realised that every little particle and atom in my body was looking up and seeing the body around it as stars in the night sky... And THEN I saw that the entire universe all around me was merely one small atom of yet another, greater body, and on and on. I didn't know the term infinite regress then! It was just a sudden feeling of knowledge. It made me feel at once very small and infintely powerful. And secure too, because I had a place in it all...

Childhood hey? I've never bothered beating my brains out over it though, it was such a strangely solid thing. Years later I heard of gnosticism, and knew immediately that it had been a gnostic experience. Can't say I've ever had another one though.

Keep Mr God's thoughts coming, please :-)

John said...

jeannie - wow and whoa! These gnostic experiences are very interesting. Revelation, pre-epileptic fit or both.

I think you had a very special moment there.

I kinda like the idea that we are star children. All the atoms heavier than hydrogen are made in stars. None of us would exist without them.

We are the children of stars.

And I guess we will be reuinted with our parents some day.

And Mrs God aint going nowhere yet.

Thanks for your very intesting comment.

Reya Mellicker said...

God in an existential dilemma. Sweet!!

Check out the oldest human arts, the "fertility" figurines from all over the planet and it will all become instantly clear.

Mrs. God came before you, dah-lin'.

No wonder you are obsessed with her.

Now, if that gets you in a mood, you can always go out and do some smiting. That always cheers you up, yes?

Millennium Housewife said...

Welcome to being Human Mr G, all your fault.

Millennium Housewife said...

ps the comment from Reya? Hopefully Mrs G always comes before you. (sorry)

John said...

reya - ah yes, first came the fertility figurine, from which all else sprang. No wonder God can't remember it.

As for smiting, I'm not entirely sure. It may just be a matter of bad press.

mh - what a thought. Perhaps they do have sex, but what it's like in 4D goodness only knows.

Unknown said...

Mr God is being a terrible tease today. What an existential crisis! Heh! Just rewards, methinks!

Anonymous said...

Since first reading this post (quite some days ago now) I've been unable to shift the mental image of young male undergraduates beating their brains out. It would appear that my mind is like a sewer: far too filthy for fish to fuck in. (With apologies to W C Fields.)

John said...

Jeez pam, you've got me blushing (not really). But the pun was unintended, honest.