Dice Rolling Deity

     I agree with Robert G. Brown when he states in his “The Pandeist Theorem,” that "If God exists, then God is identical to the Universe. That is, the theorem is a statement of conditional pandeism. If God exists at all, God must be absolutely everything that exists.” It is the only theory of God which makes sense to me. God, which I will hereafter refer to as the Deity and will represent that Being which existed prior to the universe (or multiverse if you prefer), is not to be viewed as identical with the Person of the Judeo-Christian paradigm in the sense that this Being was not perfect, did not know all, was not all-powerful, and not even necessarily all “good,” whatever this term means. There is very little, in fact, that one could know about this Being. One thing that can be surmised is that, if it is true that Deity became the universe there must have been some perceived lack within this Being that it was thought only becoming the universe would resolve.

     There are a few theories about this. Of course none can be really true or false since there is no way to test any of them; but the one I favor is that Deity became the universe for the experience. It is the difference between being an observer and being an actor. To truly know and understand something one must become immersed, and, were I powerful enough to do it, it would make sense to make that immersion complete in one spectacular roll of the dice.

    

Notes on Milton

Some notes I jotted down on "Paradise Lost (in italics):"

This reminds me of the Prometheus myth...

Satan a prototype of Camus's absurd hero as well as a metaphor for the human condition.

On line one:  "Of Mans First Disobedience..."

What happy life can exist in a state of unquestioning obedience? What happy life is possible without the consciousness of there being an alternative?

Lines 39-40:  "To set himself in Glory above his Peers,/He trusted to have equal'd the most High"

Struggle toward the heights...a life without struggle and without exertion of individual will is sterile.

"Him the Almighty Power/Hurld headlong flaming from th' Ethereal Skie/With hideous ruine and combustion down/To bottomless perdition." (45-47)

The casting out of heaven a wider metaphor for separation from unified and orderly meaning:  an estrangement by choice from the paternal, the rational, and the deterministic.

"But his doom
 Reserv'd him to more wrath:  for now the thought
 Both of lost happiness and lasting pain
 Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes
 That witness'd huge affliction and dismay
 Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate;" (53-58)

From Camus's "The Myth of Sisyphus:"

"Sisyphus, proletarian of the gods,  powerless and rebellious, knows the whole extent of his wretched condition:  it is what he thinks of during his descent. The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory. There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn."

"What though the field be lost?
  All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,
  And study of revenge, immortal hate,
  And courage never to submit or yield:
  And what is else not to be overcome?
  That Glory never shall his wrath or might
  Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace
  With suppliant knee, and deifie his power,
  Who from the terrour of this Arm so late
  Doubted his Empire." (105-114)

From "The Myth of Sisyphus:"

"His scorn of the gods, his hatred of death, and his passion for life won him that unspeakable penalty in which the whole being is exerted toward accomplishing nothing."

People must scorn their gods, how could they not, viewing as they do the randomness and suffering in the world?

Satan is fully aware of his separateness, fully aware of the hopeless futility of any action at all, yet acts if for no other reason than spite. How like us.

"The mind is its own place, and in it self
  Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
  What matter where, if I be still the same,
  And what I should be, all but less then he
  Whom Thunder hat made greater? Here at least
  We shall be free..." (255-259)

From "The Myth of Sisyphus:"

"That hour like a breathing space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of these moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock."

Sic semper tyrannis

I was moved to pity when I saw how Ghadafi was treated just before he died. I know who he was and what he was guilty of. I know that those who have lived in Libya under his regime have pain and hate and anger that I, who have lived in pampered comfort in the United States, can’t even fathom. I won’t say their feelings that led them to do these things that I’ve witnessed on video were unjustified. I can only say what I felt when I saw Ghadafi’s last moments. I saw a scared, confused, bloodied and bruised human being who had been chased into hiding in a drain pipe apparently begging for mercy. I felt sorry for him.  I don’t know why. He didn’t give pity or mercy to others, but I wished it had been shown to him. I guess I just don't like cruelty no matter who's doing it. That’s all I have to say.