Monday, August 1, 2011

Psychotropic Jesus

I have often been told that I am angry because I am an atheist. When I am told this when I am not angry I find the statements amusing. When I am angry I find listening to the statements discomforting. I have accepted the idea that I will continue to have emotional responses to my world. Although fine tuning may be possible my emotions are generally pulled from a mixed bag. I would not, however, trade the love that transmogrifies lust into desire for a guaranteed respite from a few fleeting moments of anger.

I have been told that by “accepting Jesus Christ as my Personal Savior” I will not have to experience any anger ever. Most Christians I know do not prescribe to this most powerful psychotropic Jesus. The ones that do are often crazy like bat droppings, so I am not sure if the statements concerning the effectiveness of psychotropic Jesus are lies or delusional ramblings. If these statements were limited to the phlegm-speckled tirades of street preachers I might not even notice them.

There is something enticing about the upturned scrub-blushed face of enforced innocence. The eyes look with the hint of a fear that what they see might invalidate some promise of redemption. There is misdirection in the placement of outward facing protections against disillusionment. The promises of purification are for delivery after death; they rely on no real proof, and no amount of reality can insist on addressing the stuff they are made of. The only unstoppable threat comes from within the skull the eyes look from. It is in that flask that the unstable chemistries occasioned by the mixing of such volatile ingredients as opportunity and desire are explored.

What event could cause someone, like a pretty young mother of two I recently met, to become enraptured with the idea of purification after death? Some hurt too terrible to relate? Some injury carved in tender skin uncomplicated by the scars of experience? Some unmentionable wrong she committed which continually floats to the top of her conscious; buoyed on a tide of guilt? Complete purity always hints at a dark evil hiding just behind the apparent transparency of purpose. What weight could be fused to such an agreeable countenance like a surgically implanted prosthetic hump?

It is often something lacking rather than something lurking which causes this type of imbalance. That lacking ingredient is usually a grounded perspective. The influenced of a skewed horizon is suggested by the reliance on a fix occurring after death for a problem that that affects one’s life. There are problems that cannot be fixed during life, but those are different situations.

Perspective may be an essential lacking ingredient, but supplying that ingredient might not be the most effective fix. Perspective, in and of itself, is not very compelling. Better to redirect the psychoactive intensity towards engaging pursuits, like scrapbooking, or imagining why so many more stars are reflected in a lover’s eyes than the billions present in the night’s sky. Better still, one can develop varied emotional attachments and create a world filled with a cacophony of secret languages.

There, in a world full to bursting, a horizon can be used. There, hand in hand with an understanding confidant, you can look out at that horizon, and watch the sun rise.

There is no reason to be all messed up on Psychotropic Jesus. Love is just waiting to well up inside your every thought. Give up on god and find true love by just being human again.


6 comments:

The Moose said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

It would interest your reading public to hear your views on the Eastern religions, specifically Buddhism. As a philosophy/ deistic religion that has very similar ideas on anger and life as what you expressed in this piece it would be most gratifying to hear your opinion on this concept. Especially on the Japanese Shinto practice of nature worship. Looking forward to a Buddhist post soon! By the way I wanted to say that perhaps we shouldn't judge those who seek redemption through religion. Regret is something all humans experience. The idea of an instant cure-all must seem appealing to some. But it is this concept of regret that has allowed us to learn and grow, and better appreciate happiness which is another part of the fabric of life.

adult onset atheist said...

I've not written on the Japanese Shintos. I will look into it and see if I can come up with something. I have, however, written extensively about Buddhism. Of course whenever I write “about” something it may be that I end up talking very little about it. I am nothing if not uncomprehensive and tangential in my approach to many subjects.

I wrote a long post about Buddhism in June. Though the post: http://adultonsetatheist.blogspot.com/2011/06/saga-dawa-duchen.html could accurately be described as being “about” Buddhism one could also say it was “about” the death of a beloved pet or “about” my being savagely attacked by an obese dog. If I end up writing “about” Shintoism I might end up writing about several unrelated things as well.

The Moose said...

Really enjoyed this post. Good companion piece to the Jerry Coyne article: http://www.usatoday.com/news/opinion/forum/2011-07-31-atheism-morality-evolution-religion_n.htm

adult onset atheist said...

Coyne’s piece is a good read. Thanks for the link Moose. The hypothesis that rational thought will lead to moral relativism and a degradation of the capacity for rational thought is testable and found wanting. The idea that people who want to be moral cannot be moral without accepting divine morality relies on the assumption of the self-perpetuated decay in rational thought; it is also testable and found wanting.

These delusions may be less obvious than those that masquerade as conspiracies (One of my current favorites being the Moonlanding hoax http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FUI36tPKDg4), but that is only because we see the evidence disproving them constantly. Society has become de-sensitized to the good so many people do in the world it festers in.

The Moose said...

Agreed.
I came back to read "Psychotropic Jesus" one more time :) Always make me laugh..