Metaphysic Storm

I’ve been trying to fart out a post about original sin for a week now. I focused on the three versions (separation from god, inherited guilt, natural tendency to sin caused by the fruit from the knowledge tree) Christians created and dissected each one. Ironically the post migrated to property, politics and the inequities of past and current social constructs. The whole concept of sin has bothered me since my Catholic school days. Sin in the mind of the believer is synonymous with wrong. In fact sins are the wrongiest wrongs of them all. The reason sin bothered me so much was the same reason all the other things in the church bothered me: the source. It simply was not enough for my young adult mind that, because something was written inside the binding of a book, that it was true, an absolute truth at that. Thus an absolute wrong that had no logical reason absolutely bothered me.

I’ve watched all the believers from all the religions declare what God desires. The Muslims will even say that it’s an insult to God (peace be upon him) to say what he’s all about. Then they’ll happily tell you what God demand of you. The common factor in all religion is faith, that magical leap element used to connect the gapping holes in religious logic. Justice is impossible if we allow for gaps in reasoning though. Right and wrong must be clear and concise or else we’re left letting the men in black robes use their opinion as the yard stick. Principles are the soul source of justice.
I’ve given a great amount of thought into right and wrong. I’ve strived to be a righteous person and needed the knowledge of right and wrong in my journey. That knowledge doesn’t cause sin, it keeps us from it. From what I’ve determined there really are only two sources of wrong. Does it cause explicit harm to another sentient being present or future and does the structure of society contain biases to any group or individual. I’m glad I’m off the righteous band wagon. It doesn’t matter how much good one does if not doing harm is ignored. Not doing wrong is all the right anyone needs to do. There’s nothing new under the hypocritic sun.

The Vatican has recently released an updated version of Capitol Wrongs, the EP of deadly sins. Six of the original deadlies: pride, envy, gluttony, greed, lust and sloth, are rather vague and in many cases don’t really cause harm in and of their self. The new sins are far more specific: Genetic manipulation (I wonder how they can ignore thousands of years of cultivation), drugs (they can ignore red wine), obscene riches (they can ignore their real estate net worth), pedophilia (I’m not even going to go there), causing social injustice and polluting. I’m sure I’m not the only one who sees the hypocrisy in the new god, priest repentable, givens.

I have no problem with people believing in invisible mute sky daddies. I have my own hauntings after all. But it seems to me that there is a real danger when masses are taught that infanticide and pollution are equal to pride or a healthy amount of stimulating envy. I’m trying not to care about other peoples beliefs and would have no problem doing so if I knew that the religious actually thought their beliefs were just beliefs. A belief is something that can be wrong. It is not a truth. A truth is a fact or a logical consistency that is eternal. The believers don’t believe their beliefs are beliefs, they believe their beliefs are facts. I don’t think I’m going to far when I say that a group declaring what I do with myself or the fruits of my labor is wrong, is wrong. Please Zeus, keep the Church out of the State and Philosophy.

At Jackson Square I was bragging to my friend, the phantom artist, about my two thousand dollar platinum and sapphire ring, which I traded a great painting for it from Nancy. It is her ex-wedding ring. The phantom joked around saying, “If you ever get held up they’re sure to miss it. Looks like you got it at the bead shop.” It’s my King ring, a symbol of my achievement, self proclaimed rule. Everyone needs to be the king of their self.

I hopped on the street car and cruzed up to La Boulangerie were I bought a baguette that would soon become part of a Kings sandwich. Exiting the shop I thought about my Queen in California, Amanda, hopping that she would forgive for breaking the law of the foreign land by mentally raping her in an early morning conversation. Heading back to the my chambers I was skillfully maneuvering my longboard on challenging New Orleans sidewalks. I approached a section that was impossible to traverse. A couple was walking out of a shop and watched me dismount my deck. They said, “We would have been really impressed if you would have been able to make it over that rough patch.” I replied, “There’s some things I just can’t do.” A few clicks down I got back on my board and kicked off. At the very next, quote unquote, side walk ramp I took a header right onto the pavement. The couple looked very concerned for my well being but they had nothing to worry about. I am a master at falling. I got up brushed off the dirt and started laughing. I asked them, “Did that impress you?” They joined my laughter and my pride remained strong.

Back at the Den I told my friend Nancy that I was depressed because Amanda was avoiding me but that I was still confident she would come around. Nancy wanted me to go with her to pick up some things from the store and I was more than happy to drive. At Pier One she made a startling discovery on my hand. The sapphire in my kings ring was missing. Upon further inspection we deduced that it was dislodged during my fall. We drove back to the location of the fall sight. She revealed an unjustified attachment to the gem and to make it more weird for her, the day would have been her 8th wedding anniversary.

We spent the next hour scouring the concrete looking for a thousand dollar cut stone. I was disappointed not finding it but rationalized that had I to chose losing the stone or the Neo Ray Bans I was wearing, I would have chosen the stone. I’m an Imperadør now, after all. I gave the ground one more look as I searched for the carved gem. Amanda called.