The Two Possibilities

Lately I've been reflecting on certain things and I feel like I should make a clarification. Contending that our life as we know it is all there is, that once we die that's it, is just that, a contention. Though it is exponentially more probable than the contention of the "hope dealing" clergy, it is still speculation. The truth is that no one knows what awaits us. Anyone who claims otherwise is lying to you and is dangerous. The way I see it there are two possible scenarios: either there's nothingness or our consciousness/soul/energy continues to exist in some other form/place/dimension, whatever it may be. I'm cool with either one. I consider this one of the most profound conclusions I've ever drawn.

As Goethe put it, "We must plunge into experience and then reflect on the meaning of it. All reflection and no plunging drives us mad; all plunging and no reflection and we are brutes."

An earthquake buries alive 70,000 bodies in Peru, automobiles make a pyramid heap of over 50,000 a year in the U.S. alone, a tidal wave washes over a quarter of a million in the Indian Ocean, a child lies in a hospital bed crying and alone. What kind of god allows these events and countless others to happen to innocent people? One who is either powerless to stop them from happening, one who doesn't care, or one who simply isn't there. Creation is a nightmare spectacle taking place on a planet that has been soaked for hundreds of millions of years in the blood of all its creatures. The soberest conclusion that we could make about what has actually been taking place on the planet for about three billion years is that it is being turned into a vast pit of fertilizer. But the sun distracts our attention, always baking the blood dry, making things grow over it, and with its warmth giving the hope that comes with the arrival of a new day. But this hope is illusory and fleeting. As Prof. Revilo Oliver observed, "Human suffering is as much a permanent phenomenon on our planet as the tides and the polar ice caps, and from this little satellite of our dwindling sun endless wails of woe and terror always have, and always will, come from the ululant throats of suffering humanity, whose lamentations and screams forever rise upward into the unheeding atmosphere and die away in the cold infinity beneath the pitiless stars."