08 May 2006

Tolerance? Why?

Well, I am happy Douglas Rushkoff said it, as it seems bleeding hearts all over will kick up a stink at the first questioning of the status quo. I've known many, and even lost friends, because of my so-called "anger" or "hatred." Fuck that. Maybe some of us just see through the ridiculous notion of everyone-is-equal and we base merit on one's actions, not on lofty ideals.

With leaders in the public eye like these guys, does anyone really have to wonder why and how stereotypes come to exist in the mind of the public? I mean, really. Further, as a fellow human being, I feel I have to step up just a little and take a bit of responsibility for these fucking idiots. We all come from the same monkeys, so I feel a bit obligated.

I think it's time to get serious about the role God plays in human affairs, and evaluate whether it's appropriate to let everyone in on the bad news: God doesn't exist, never did, and the closest thing we'll ever see to God will emerge from our own collective efforts at making meaning.

Maybe I'm just getting old, but I no longer see the real value in being tolerant of other people's beliefs. Sure, when beliefs are relegated to the realm of pure entertainment, they pose no real danger. So, a kid believes U2 is really a supergroup on par with The Beatles or The Who. That's *his* problem, and it doesn't really do a lot of harm to anyone except those of us who still stop by MTV occasionally to see what might be playing.

When religions are practiced, as they are by a majority of those in developed nations, today, as a kind of nostalgic little ritual - a community event or an excuse to get together and not work - it doesn't really screw anything up too badly. But when they radically alter our ability to contend with reality, cope with difference, or implement the most basic ethical provisions, they must be stopped.

Like any other public health crisis, the belief in religion must now be treated as a sickness. It is an epidemic, paralyzing our nation's ability to behave in a rational way, and - given our weapons capabilities - posing an increasingly grave threat to the rest of the world.

Follow this quote up with the rest of the post:
Faith = Illness.
Why I've had it with religious tolerance.

And his follow-up post/reply to e-mails:
The Testament, My Testament

As Sun Tzu threw out there:
If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.

The United States cannot know their enemy with ballistic missiles. Which is a reflection of their inability to know themselves. If they would truly know the passions of their "enemies," they would be able to define themselves in contrast, and vice versa. However, they do not. They live in fear and strike from afar.

In fact, I can't think of anything more dishonourable.

We are war, within and without. With every vulgar and condemning piece of myself I can excise, I may further refine — through reflection of myself — what it is with the world that destroys itself. Subsequently, my healing and initiation into higher revelations of the self act as revelatory initiations into realms of power over the world around me.


Kylark said...

Nice spell at the end.

kylark said...

The second essay trampled over his original point. The supremacy of mythology as a mode of hacking reality is pushed aside as Rushkoff pounds his point home and says, "it's just fiction!" He accidentally erases the distinction between fiction and myth.

Or maybe it wasn't accidental....


Fell said...

I would have to agree with Rushkoff's point, that there is little distinction. This has a lot to do with what I've been thinking over lately, as well as some of the writing going on at the Alchemy & Design Google Group.

We see symbols that lead us through the monomyth, or Hero's Journey, regardless of whether it's deemed "myth" or "fiction." It is supposed to inspire action on our part, to communicate with us, through us, via our intuitive, subtler, inner voice.

If it's inspirational — as dictated by you — it doesn't matter if it's the Bible or Fight Club.