We've been toying with some pretty weird bits of thinking here, and it's already getting hard to follow. Lemme try and tie a few things together. Also, if you're still with me, now's a good time to point out that this humble site is best read in conjunction with the discussions on my Facebook, (Steve Bass), and for this bit, especially within the PPCC Philosophy Club page linked from my Wall or wherever it is.
Remember my mention of Pseudo-statements back at Willie's story? Elsewhere, in Stage Magick and around about, notably at the PPCC Philosopy Club linked off my Facebook, I put up the business of our inability to prove a negative. The assertion that "This statement does not belong in the set of all true statements," is a nice example. The statement is internally self-defeating, negated by paradox; it's internally inconsistent, self-contradictory, neither true, nor false-- a pseudo-statement. The "set of all true statements" statement is a tidy example in that attempting an answer produces a nonsense response awfully reminiscent, at least to me, of the sort of thing that happens to those hapless physicists when they try to crunch their numbers beyond the event horizon and into the heart of the Singularity. Lots of PHDs get real pissy if you try and take their numbers and drag them into the "real" world here. Like most of us, abstractions are fine for them. Hanging flesh on the ephemeral turns it into a monster for some. I, on the other hand, have no such qualm. If matter isn't made of matter, as some rather esoteric physics appears to indicate, that most assuredly effects us, sez me.
The problem of proving a negative is stickier than the "True Statements" statement, because we can somehow tell the essence of the genuinely self-defeating pseudo-statement is True. Something about the very idea is akin to the business of the Singularity--we can't seem to get there, or even define the nature of that There, but we know there has to be Something, OK? And thinking about it produces notions that resonate in our world.
We've also talked some about politics, and here's the clincher. Our whole system, our World, maybe even our very Selves combine to make a big ol' Pseudo-statement, overburdened by internal paradox and contradiction, and decorated with infinite concentric, overlapping circles and waves of Pseudo-reality.
The "Doctrine of the Many," claimed by Zoroastrians, Jains, some Gostics, among others, avers that we humans are compound beings. Some scientists at the fringe have claimed this as well, but let me keep this as political as I can for a moment. The concept surfaces in Western thinking when we speak of "talking to ourselves," which we all know can be quite an argument at times, and in notions like multiple personality. Most U.S. citizens will agree that we are a "Christian" nation in spite of that pesky 1st Amendment. We'll acknowledge "diversity" in religious matters, but obviously those other guys are wrong and belong in Hell where they won't fuck up our Christian Zen, see? The foundational Christian documents upon which the edifice of the world's biggest group of religions includes a whole lot of admonitions about Love. Yet it is hardly necessary to provide examples of the embarrassing fact that a whole lot of Christians are rabid, violence-loving haters dribbling foam from their chins as they rail about how, "God hates fags," or whatever. Don't feel so smug if you're a Buddhist or an Agnostic or
I spoke a bit with my homeless friend Rob yesterday and he told me about a guy he knows with some brilliant talent--musical, I think--that lives outside. Rob had burned himself accidentally and the topic brought to light his friend's plight; the guy is a multiple, and periodically his alter will emerge and industriously destroy his life. The fellow named his alter Jack, I think, and knows of his existence from observing the destruction "Jack" leaves in his wake, but the two never interact. The guy blacks out and has no recollection of moving about in the world while Jack is in control. Once Jack put his feet in a campfire til the shared body required a lengthy hospital stay. One day Jack just may kill the both of him.
I'm saying Christendom is just like Jack and his host, and so is American society. So is the whole freakin' society of the whole freakin' world. Only we suffer from a far more advanced stage of the condition and our legs are buried in hot coals. Our hair is on fire. Those homeless dudes don't worry about a house, but we've been building a huge edifice on a foundation of shit for so long we think we can't backtrack, but backtrack we must. This house is collapsing upon us right now, as we speak, so to speak, and we need to get the fuck out, tear down the M.C. Esher thing we've been trying to build, and start the fuck over or we're all going to be buried. Our society, societies, lives, and now even the solid earth is/are collapsing under the weight of internal contradictions of our own making.
Most who've read so far won't need me to explain the function of a keystone--the stone at the top of an arch that concentrates the force and thereby holds the arch in place. When the capstone at the top of an arch at, say, a Medieval cathedral erodes, the arch collapses. The capstone of the Christian faith is supposed to be Love, right? Isn't that key to a great many doctrines? It seems hard to find a player in all the world that will openly advocate for a doctrine of Hatred. Even the nastiest Devil-worshiping headbanger seeks Love, if only amongst his own within the particular bit of the Chaotic waveform in which he finds himself. Whatever. Our shit is missing its capstone. And its foundation is shit, too.
Don't you dare get all dogmatically ideological and ignore the fact that I've NOT preached Jesus here, or any other tributary. We--and I mean all of us, including those of us clutching the notions of enmity so close to our hearts, and those addicted to power--need to stand back, tear the whole house down, and rebuild something with a thoughtfully drawn blueprint. We need to build an edifice on a foundation of Love, designed toward the capstone of Love. When we do that--oh, what a mansion we'll have!
What did that one dude John say? "God is Love." Right? Can I get a witness?
Right. Thus sayeth the housepainter.