I offer my Facebook friends the special privilege of reading my ridiculously long comments to their simple little status posts. Sometimes these turn into fun and stimulating debates, sometimes my “friends” quickly search for the “ignore user” option that Facebook supplies.
One such moment occurred sometime this morning as the sun began to peek up from the horizon. The topic was of Religion because certainly there is no better way to begin an early Monday morning than to challenge someone online with opposition to their views on Religion.
Behold! an unedited (ok, edited slightly for length) transcript and proof of why I annoy the hell out of otherwise faithful Facebook friends:
Nell: thinks anyone who claims to believe that there is no God is either ignorant or full of shit. There, I said it.
Jeremy:“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?” – Nietzsche
I think Nietzsche was not debating in god as a concept… only that we seem either too arrogant, too ignorant, or perhaps too self-reliant that we have stopped looking to heavens for the answers we continually seek.
Nell:
I think it’s a bit arrogant to think that human kind has the power to destroy its creator, even if it is only symbolic, since we are the ones that are truly dying, physically, and in the given case, spiritually. Interesting concept, though. One of my favourite quotes is from Nietzsche.
Jeremy:
it might be something different than arrogance… or at least arrogance with a purpose.
one of the most universal moments that all animals, most especially humans, share is a moment in their life where they must separate from the nest, so to speak for us at least… in order to live their own personal lives and make their own personal choices. this leads first to discovering one’s self which in turn aids in finding that perfect mate for us to reproduce the best possible future of our species.
as people, we go through teenage years of building defiance to our parents… some sooner, some longer, some worse, some better, than others. though it doesn’t always seem obvious… this helps us discover self-reliance to allow us to create our own lives away from our parents.
what if, as human civilisation progressed to the point that most Western cultures have achieved, we have reached a point in our species development to strike out on our own? Nietzsche meant this when he talked that we killed god. Whether god is a wizard in the sky, a force of nature, a form of fate, a flying spaghetti monster, or even a balance of dark and light… none of us can really truly speak of knowing. but i don’t think that matters really in the slightest.
if god exists and an atheist doesn’t believe god exists, god still exists. if god does not exist and those of faith believe that god does exist, god still does not exist.
but if we find answers, questions, strengths, weaknesses, happiness, or sadness in either the belief or disbelief of a god… the THOSE are what truly exist. those are and have always mattered more. and those are undeniable. if i find strength in a faith… no one can tell me that i don’t find strength in a faith. in the end… it doesn’t matter at all what we call our higher powers, does it? it has never mattered what name we give them, what face, image, or depiction that we give them. it has never mattered what stories we pretend that they command us to spread, does it? what matters and has always mattered is a very personal thing that we might not be too good at sharing because perhaps it was never meant to be shared. its our own faith, our own strength. and i think the realisation of that is what killed God because it brings god’s purpose into us. and no one outside of us could ever say a damn thing about what we have inside ourselves.
I think I rather like that response. Well, of course I do… its MY response, lol. Can’t argue with personal belief, right? haha.
I had the great fortune of seeing 30 Seconds to Mars live. Opening acts included Neon Trees and Mute Math which both rocked surprisingly hard and sounded amazing. Right up center in the crowd was my chosen spot as dealing with the moshpit and constant pushing back and forth of a sea of people is usually annoying but hardly enough to distract from having excellent bands (and this time an excellent Hollywood actor singing his heart out as well).
Mute Math, 2nd opener for 30 Seconds to Mars. the drummer was absolutely insane… came out and started duct-taping his headphones to his head. i counted at least 2 broken drum sticks. I loved the way they ended the show, by breaking down their instruments but jamming on them at the same time… eventually everyone had part of the drum set and the song turned into a tribal beat with the entire band banging on whatever they could grab. at one point the singer threw a weird theramin into the crowd which i was able to grab and play a few notes as it was passed around.
Neon Trees, first opener for 30 Seconds to Mars. Decent band — singer is like a high-energy, punk version of Mick Jagger. Getting a non-blurry picture of anyone in that group was impossible… made even more so that I was close enough to wonder if I would be nailed with a swinging microphone which would have been awesome, haha.
well… I survived 30 Seconds to Mars. Was one person deep in center pit until some dick stole my camera right out of my hand… chased him down, got punched in the face and another guy nailed me in the kidney but I got the camera back. Spent the rest of the next couple songs gasping for breath amidst the sea of people. But eventually the fun came back to me and the rest of the show rocked!
The Bad:
The next day, I went to the old market in order to play my own music for the masses. The night wasn’t the best for street busking so soon after the sun went down I began making my way back home. Unfortunately I was jacked on my way back up what I thought was 13th St but was 16th street. Five black dudes tried to take my guitar but I beat them back. Thankfully my only injuries were minor wounds where I impacted with the assailants: cut knuckle from a punch, and sides of both palms where I blocked their hits. After I knocked one guy’s wind out of him the rest took off running away allowing me to dart into an opened door that just happened to be backstage at the same venue that I saw 30 Seconds to Mars the night before. After a song or two by the band on stage, a roadie spotted me and asked for credentials. He surprisingly believed me when I lied that I had lost them but when he asked who I was with, I drew a blank.
Rule 1: If you find yourself one step away from a Roadie letting you stay backstage, it is always a good idea to have at least some clue as to which bands are playing. I voluntarily left, caught a ride with Shera to home where I nursed my minor scrapes and cuts.
F*ing Hell:
I went back to the Old Market the next night because I found myself playing guitar and realised that I might as well make a few dollar bills while I practice. It was a very slow night so I ended up chatting and jamming with other buskers, eventually just putting instruments away and babbling about music on the porch of Billy Frogs Tavern. It was after 2 when I took off knowing that I had borrowed a car this night so as not to worry about having an attempted mugging once again on the way home. Instead, I got lost on the way home driving down 10th street while thinking it was 13th street. 10th ends going south as soon as you approach Rosenblatt Stadium and the Henry Doorly Zoo campus to which I discovered too late. While attempting t o turn around quickly in the narrow one way street, the car hit the curb and possibly a sign. The airbag went off and knocked me out. I have no recollection of at least an hour after that. I know a policeman issued me a ticket for the collision because I have the ticket. The blankness off the accident and at least an hour after is what is worrying me. Unfortunately, I have no visible head injury and no seatbelt bruise. My only injuries are still those from the mugging the night before. I say this as unfortunately because at least some physical sign except for a broken car might spur memory or at least show a clue.
I just learned that the car is technically totalled due to the repair cost. It certainly didn’t look totalled but in the end it is better, at least insurance-wise.
Omaha, NE – On the heels of bloodshed and bullets, dozens of community members try to get a handle on the danger. That includes Grace United Methodist Church Pastor Alberto Silva,
“There’s a lot of graffiti in South Omaha, there’s a lot of gang activity, there’s a lot of things that can be addressed if we’re just willing to help one another,” says Pastor Silva.
Silva and his church group “El Puente” are joining forces with Pastor John Voner and “Enough is Enough.” The coalitions train volunteers how to confront violence on the streets and fight it. The pastors hope, with word that north and south join forces, the city will unify in the fight against crime.
Pastor Silva says, “Whatever they’re doing in North Omaha that’s working, we should do in South Omaha. Whatever we’re doing in South Omaha that’s working, they should mirror in North Omaha.”
Armed with prayer and programs, the coalitions take first steps to help each other and the community. A prayer march is planned for this Saturday at South High School. “El Puente” means “The Bridge” in Spanish.
Pastor Silva believes the march will help bridge a gap between communities. “I think the unique quality of it all is the coalition of African Americans and Latinos and people from South Omaha and North Omaha, ” says Pastor Silva.
*shakes head* Idiots! Lately violence has surged in North Omaha to the point that every night there is a shooting victim and more often than not there are multiple shootings with most of them lethal. It has gotten so bad that the area where I used to live, up until January of this year, is now part of “places you dont want to find yourself at night” and that was a wealthy and predominantly safe neighborhood (72nd and Blondo).
I now live in South Omaha which is overwhelmingly populated by Latinos. There is no violence except for scattered reports of gas-station robberies that are usually committed by North Omaha residents venturing south. A white person — hell, a white 8-yr old girl — could walk around after dark and feel reasonably safe. The contrast between these two communities is ridiculously noticeable… and yet the white community of Omaha that usually avoids both minority populated areas always proves to be oblivious to such stark differences between a latino and a black neighborhood. To ignorantly assume they are even remotely similar in safety is just so embarrassingly racist.
I attended the Cinco de Mayo festivities last year that transformed South Omaha into one gigantic carnival. The police presence was ridiculous. There were snipers positioned on rooftops and not only local police scattered throughout the crowd but also the most amount of federal agents (they wear bullet-proof vests with “Federal Agent” imprinted on them so we all are fully aware who they are) that I have ever seen outside of Washington D.C..
Why? Nothing even remotely dangerous happened.
I remember living in Detroit and attended the mass Fourth of July fireworks show at Hart Plaza which usually draws close to a million or more people into that tiny park in the heart of Downtown Detroit. Detroit is famously bad… its been the murder capital for so many years and only recently misses that top spot due to its vastly shrunken population in recent years. Everyone felt perfectly safe… though smartly prepared should anything bad actually happen.
It just seems odd and very troubling to me how bigoted and ignorant people in power still exist to be in America. It’s ridiculous how flighty, paranoid, and wimpish white americans have become. It really is embarrassing.
A black stained tear rolls off her cheek
She dreams about the day
When she will have the strength
To hold her head up high
Is it not worth it?
Lives a life of shattered dreams and broken hope
Yet she stays strong. But for how long?
“For how long will I be the one?” she says.
Then closes her eyes and lies
And with a rage of frustration she cries
“When do I get mine?”
Downriver
She stares up at the sky
Arms stretched out wide
Dreaming of a better life
She wishes she could fly
Down inside
Forget about the world
And what it does to you
Forget about all the lies
Don’t you wish that we could fly?
Ever wonder if life is just a continuation?
Like deja vu are we all just repeating ourselves?
Maybe trying to get things right or maybe not
Because what happens when we stumble upon all the answers?
Would it all just end then?
Or would it all just begin again?
I sit and wonder about past chances and future lives
Mistakes made or were they just inevitable?
Maybe nothing but a dream I sit and dream about the end
And when it all begins again
Twenty-two, angry, confused. Looking forward to tomorrow
Am I so wrong to wonder? Is it wrong to even ask?
Is this all just the trailing end of teenage angst?
Or is there something more that I’m searching for?
So now I stare ahead
And dream of all that should have been
And then it all begins again…
