Monthly Archive for February, 2004

“Granted there are people (some I know) who have used religion and God to build a lot of motivation to do their best in life and be the kindest they can be. I respect these people very much. I admire [their] enthusiasm to live and work their hardest.”

This time it’s not about me. It’s not about what I want, what I believe, what I’m going to do. This time I’m not going to share my feelings or opinion, I’m not going to spoon feed you the reasons for liking me, my talents, my personality, etc. This time it’s about something else. For once in my life I’ll point to somewhere else besides me.

How stupid I must be to think that somewhere beyond the limits of time and space there Is someone who cares about my decisions. I must be simple minded, gullible, unbelievably weak of emotions to place my faith in an unseen being, to credit him for all that is good, and discredit him for all that is bad. I must be on some sort of crutch, striving for a purpose, so easily fooled by what is obviously a hoax, a leap of so-called faith that demands absolute alliegance no matter what. There must be something wrong with anyone who believes in something so fragile, so corporate, so cliche. I must be totally blind to look around and say that there is order, that all is not chaotic, that there is beauty and choice and reason, that there is purpose.

I must be wasting my time, my energy, my brain cells in attempting to communicate with something that’s not there. I must be so weak in my being to believe that any knowledge of this ‘Creator’ is important or worth searching for. I must be an apathetic fool to believe that something so perfect actually exists. Oh how I’ve been on the wrong path all along to believe in a savior, a complete idiot to think that I need saving from my own doings. How shameful it must have been to see me having hope in something so vague, so diluted, so unrealistic. If we were created, why would the creator bother attempting to communicate with me, one of many tiny creations? What would I owe him, some other created thing? My money? My time? My attention? My heart? Besides, if he created something there’s no way he’s powerful enough to communicate with it. That kind of power is beyond the logical, and it’s silly to think of illogical things.

No no no. Look around. There is no order, no meaning, no value. I’m as good as nothing, this keyboard is my equal. Sure it was designed, and it fulfills a purpose, but that’s because I made it that way. I saw it on my own, bought it because I wanted to, and that’s that. But in the end it is just a piece of plastic, as I am a piece of flesh, a bubble full of atoms bumping around with no particular order for no particular reason. There is no love, no true emotion. They’re all just words used to satisfy my pointless search for order. There is no wrong, no right, no morals at all. Murder is the same as a tree, friendship is a blade of grass, tears are stones and love is a brick wall. Every contraction of my lungs is an accident, another cosmic happening that carries no weight in the grand scheme of things. Oh and by the way, there is no grand scheme. These words are a waste of time, these thoughts, this outrage, this hope.

If I die, there will be no justice, no account needed for my motives, my actions. There won’t be a judge, there won’t be punishment, there won’t be a reward. If I punch you, it just is. If I kill myself, it just is. If I take the whole world with me it will be as if nothing was there, and in the end who cares because we’re just a bunch of particles floating around, I might as well get things moving. Hitler deserves no punishment, because after all he is just another ball of particles and punishing particles is senseless. People die anyways. Hate must be ok. My great great great great grand uncle the lizard will have no objections. The jellyfish won’t be dissapointed, the mudskipper, the bacteria, the speck, the nothing. I’ve wasted so much time investing in knowledge. Knowledge is a disease, a fantasy, another crutch; so is humor, and joy, and peace.

There is no Jesus. He didn’t live, he wasn’t prophesied, he didn’t perform miracles, he didn’t establish a heavenly kingdom, he didn’t die for my sins, his “pure” blood wasn’t shed, he didn’t resurrect bodily, he didn’t ascend into heaven, he doesn’t have a plan for me, he doesn’t care. Now that I’ve settled that, it’s time to move on and face life for what it is. Now that my mind is clear of all these silly particles, I’m ready to take the next pointless step. If I’m hungry, I’ll no longer eat. If I’m thirsty I’ll no longer drink, If I’m tired, I’ll no longer rest. If I’m hurt, I’ll no longer forgive. If I’m loved, I’ll no longer care. Any step in the other direction might give off the impression that I’m a reasonable human being, but we all know that can’t be.

But wait, If all these conclusions are true, if what comes after death is complete unconsciousness and I die today then I’ll never know if I was right or wrong. But if what God says is true, if what the 40-plus writers in the Bible claim are true, if what Jesus says about himself is true, if he is “the way, the truth, and the life”, if there is life after death and there is judgement, then I’ll know I was wrong forever. If God has spoken to us through his prophets, through his Son, through the Bible, then isn’t that information worth having? If God has a plan for me, isn’t knowledge of that plan worth finding? If the historical evidence is right there, isn’t it worth investigating?

Or is man completely unreliable? If so, then turn away from here. I’m as mentally fraile as you are.

A few months ago, when all I had to do in my spare time was to read other people’s blogs, I remember being so frustrated with those who took long to update their site. A few of them I took out of my favorites list because of that reason. Sounds reasonable, no? Even when they warned that they would be away for a while?

I understand now what actual living is. I have a job, I go to school, I drive, I pay for my own stuff, I perform, I preach, I have family and friends, I have responsibilities. Lately, these things have been clearer than ever. The rule of thumb for me is this: The less I write on my site, the more genuinely satisfied I am. I know, I know. It sounds completely selfish, and perhaps it is. But there are so many things to take in account when writing in this baby. Number one is that actual words. I’ve always been better at speaking than I have at writing. The words just process easier, and there is far less explanation needed to get to a point, at least in consideration of the time used in getting the point across. Get what I mean? Hope so. I probably need an explanation for all that, but too bad, there’s more typing to be done. Number two is considering how I will affect other people. That gives me a bit of anxiety, and it is difficult not to think of this before writing, thus I become hesitant. Ok, enough explaining.

So here’s the update: I’ve been doing a lot of things and I couldn’t be happier. I had two stand-up comedy gigs this past weekend and it was quite an experience. Friday was my best performance ever and Saturday was my worst. One would assume that after Saturday’s performance I’d be a little hesitant in pursuing this love called Comedy, but they are wrong. It’s been interesting analyzing all the things that went into those two nights. There’s only one direction to go after Saturday, and that’s up. Want the details on why I failed? Over-confidence, pride, laziness, irresponsibility, and worst of all… fear. While I was on the stage, I didn’t realize I possesed all those charactersitics, but today it is as clear as daylight. These are areas I must work on if I want to avoid that same scenario.

Conclusion of the day… I plan on pursuing comedy as a full time job one day. Right now I have the balance of things I mentioned above to keep me busy, and perhaps they will evolve into bigger things in the next few months. Graphic design is still very much an option, and for the moment is my main source of income. My long term goal is to turn comedy into the income, and design into the hobby. If I am consistent in posting on the site, you will see how this happens. If not, then I fear I sketchism.com will be another website thrown into the recycle bins of all the people who seem to have an interest in my doings. Thanks for sticking around.