Down. Down down down. It must be hormonal, because circumstances have not changed, but sometimes I'm actually optimistic. Not at the moment. Lying back, observing my self-destructive qualities, wondering how to end them. You can imagine.
I've learned to recognize it.
Oh. I just realized the time of year. Another anniversary season. This week in October, some years ago now.
Maybe that's it. But it's the immobilization. I don't see any way out. You cannot begin to imagine the details.
We don't deserve misfortune, but we're responsible for how we deal with it.
Let's change the subject. Something about God.
I'm impressing a fellow I know with my vast knowledge on almost every subject. It came of course around to God. He had trouble with all those miracles. I pointed out that there were only three periods noteworthy for miracles, of the Exodus, the time of Elijah, and of Jesus. And I gave him the proof of God lecture -- the fact of our existence has only two answers: God, or randomness. I went into information theory, about how intelligence, like organization, cannot be generated randomly -- an aspect of the law of entropy. I went into some of the pseudo evidence of Evolutionism. I anticipated the what about the pygmies objection -- look to your own situation. The only reason we could accuse God of injustice is because he gave us a sense of justice in the first place. We don't have the evidence by which he judges.
It came around to aliens. I gave him the fallen angels idea -- going into the daughters of men, creating non-human hybrids, who, when they die, have no place assigned for them -- thus, demons, ever seeking to possess flesh once more. And so on. Blah blah.
It is a good thing to defend the honor of the Lord. And it must be, it must be that he has sent someone to defend me. I wish I knew about it. There's such a craving in the hearts of decent people to defend the helpless, the oppressed, the grieving. We must get that from God, who put it in our hearts. That must be what he's like. Must we always look to the past to see it? To the Cross? Is there no rescue in a more current millennium? But obviously there is -- all those craving do-gooders. There are no more miracles, it seems, that are not brought to us by human hands. We are rescued, if we are, only by human motivation.
No. Still down. Rehashing these tired ideas is no relief. What a horrible world. Maybe I'll become a prayer warrior. That's actually a pretty good idea. Did someone whisper it into my ear? Mirabile dictu.
J
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
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