Impersonal text for no one in particular

Talking out loud is tiring, it is inevitably personalizing. If I want to stick to impersonality,
it pays to write. Remaining faceless avoids the glare.

Spontaneously talking into a camera to post your face on the Internet is pornographic. It is pop-thought, public nudity, mass consciousness. It is confronting the superego and shouting spells at him hoping he will understand you. Why do I care, though? Did Jesus Christ beg His Father for forgiveness? No, He already knew His Father loved Him.

Yeah, it’s time to talk about God. You can only become an atheist by talking a lot about Him.

Is it fair to say science has not replaced God, just put him in the background, made him a little more unconscious? The monotheistic view is basically the political view, after all, the view of law and order, of higher and lower causes and their effects as measured through space and time. Those men who still think God lives in the sky wear a church robe, those who think He lives in the dirt wear a lab coat. But both believe in God, in the Law. Both are priests. Both are initiates. Both understand, or at least have access to, the hidden law. Whether it was handed down from above or is toiled over in the mud, the law is in charge!

As an atheist, I’m still living in my father’s dream.

I’m trying to talk the superego into loving me, trying to get me to accept him; but behind the scenes it’s also him trying to accept me. My dad is lying asleep on his bed dreaming about what life should be like for me, his unconscious avatar.

I’ve had glimpses of wholeness (emptiness) and love, but the Sun always rises in the morning (the Moon always sets at night). The contrast returns. Vision blurs, time becomes tangled, I am strung up: a puppet with a master, a gear in a machine, nothing but a ghost in my father’s memory of the future (reflection of the past).

My person (my ego) is talking about my biological father. The soul is talking about God.

This could be more pleading with God to let me into heaven, or it could be a continual emptying of karma into infinity. Either a massage for the ego, or a burning bush for the soul.

Am I trying to polish a mirror or open a wormhole?

Am I free to decide?

If I say yes, am I then determined to be free, or also free not to be? That’s what throws me off with this freedom v. determinism game. It seems that I am so free that I can choose determinism. I can decide to be predetermined. Plenty of people have convinced themselves of this, so I’m inclined to believe it takes the same kind of convincing to believe otherwise. There is a limited amount of evidence on each side, so choosing one requires a great deal of self-talk, of arguing with God, of trying to convince the law of your innocence while defending yourself from the guilt-producing freedom of your instincts.

What if neither convincingly pulls Humpty over one-way or the other, and he sits comfortably on the wall avoiding the fall into pieces?

If I tip one way and I am free, I forget I am determined, that my mind needs a body like light needs darkness, that without a pretext there is nothing to compel me to act, and I fall into pieces. Experience becomes split in two.

If I tip the other way and I am determined, I forget I am free to declare so, I think other than I say, and I fall into pieces. My mind has free thoughts but speaks determined words, and their friction ignites an unconscious.

How to avoid the fall? We can’t just not pick a side… we have to see that picking is impossible. But knowing (gnosis) what “impossible” means is a bit like untying an inter-dimensional knot. You need arms in both dimensions at once.

In the Gospel of Thomas, Jesus says: “Split the stick, you will find me there”.

This reminds me of the Trinity. The Father and the Holy Ghost are God and Man, respectively. Jesus is the God-Man. He ties the dualism together completing the loop.

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