Why are we still here?:
And other, post-rapture, questions
So, this weekend was, supposedly, the rapture. It came, it went and, aside from Randy Savage (rest his soul), we're all still here. This has left thousands crying in outrage and confusion, evidently the world not ending is a bad thing, but the questions remains; Why? Why are we here? It's a question everyone seems to be asking with, ever increasing, frequency. What is the point of all this time we're spending, of the things we're doing? It goes on, but what disturbs me is that people seem content to just ask questions. Nobody ever seems content with the answers that, by most common accounts, are right there in front of them just waiting to be acknowledged. Why are we here?
It seems to be the trend, at least among my generation, to not see being alive as a suitable enough reason to be elated. There needs to be something, some sense of accomplishment and finality, in order for it to all make sense; life is a game that is not to be played, but won. It is not a series of exciting moves or moment, but snapshots of obstacles that, in order to achieve, we must overcome. It's this pattern that seems to set in motion the endless cycle of disappointments because the obstacles never end. As time wears on, there seem to be more and more who just want to turn down the difficulty, get to the end of the game, and see those fated words scroll up as they close their eyes. Game. Over.
That seems to be drastically missing the point and yet still, over twenty four hours later, I can still hear the heartbroken cries that the world keeps on spinning. I can understand, and agree, there are those who got the message wrong. It was never asked that we live for the words of God, or Jesus, but rather that we live by their teachings. This kind of confusion and second guessing ones own life can be traumatic, I can understand those howls. It's the angry, furious, screeching that I can't make sense. The hand of God may not have come down from the sky this weekend, but the finger of judgement is being pointed and starting wildfire everywhere and, punctuating the savage cries in the night, is the sound of sins being thrown like stones through the walls of glass houses everywhere.
So, why are we here? Most people would say "To live. To learn. To love." What's missing from these answers that seems to make no one happy with them as they are? The whole damn world, or at least a big portion of it, seemed to go absolutely mad with this coming doomsday, an I couldn't make hide nor hair of the whole damn mess. The only rational conclusion seemed to be that I'd have to find some way to weather this madness. At first, the whole thing seemed like it would be complicated, but soon? It all lined up. I'd shut the doors, keep the lights just right, bring in the best of company and find the most interesting things in the world to indulge in. It was there I'd find those answers, to pull them in beyond any measure of indulgence, and -- with just enough luck -- lead by example.
It all seems to have worked too. I'm still standing, and I've answered the important question with the action of answers. Why are we here? To experience, never to know, but to keep going in the face of all those lacking answers. It's not about the destination, or the even the truth, but about making the absolute most of the moments. The Rapture could have come and gone, honestly, and I don't think there would have been much different -- save maybe less coughing. It has never, ever, been about finding the light at the end of that tunnel, and really, never should be either; it's just about knowing it's there, giving you that notion that it -- that final moment -- is out there somewhere...waiting.
It is too, for everyone. There will, unavoidably, come that moment when the sands run out for all of us; when the tanks run dry and the music gets so quiet you just can't here it anymore. It's then, and only then, that the pale horse and its dark rider will catch up to you on the tail end of the proud highway. The more important question, armed with this kind of knowledge, the important question to ask yourself: "Why am I wasting time asking questions?" The time in the world we all have is limited and to waste it with seemingly pointless questioning? That just doesn't make a whole lot of sense. All this, pre and post, Rapture questioning just seems like time wasting.
So to all this questioning? I feel the need to quote General Anthony McAuliffe: "NUTS!" It's just that kind of white flag surrender that is going to fuck us all over in the end. The point of life? It's to live, not ask why. Find some model that works for you, even if it is Jesus, but don't be afraid to change lanes if it all doesn't seem to be working out for you. Getting angry because the path you were on doesn't pan out like you thought it should, especially when it's about the End of the World, it doesn't make any sense. You're still here, you get to keep going, to do better. If you were waiting in line for a ship that set sail without you? Why the hell are you standing on the shore, cursing and swearing like some rabid barbarian, at the ship that's already well out of reach?
Where we're going is something that should, by its right of existence, have the ability to change. Trains, planes, automobiles, and all other types of forward motion, have the ability to switch where they're going. Why should we be any different? Why should we be locked into some fucking twisted flight plan; are we all some autonomous collection of parts, rolling through the muck on some kind of freaked out autopilot? When the gears get clogged with that kind of thing, system error -- possibly shutdown -- is practically unavoidable. It's all about being adaptable to what's in front of you, being able to follow those strange winds and the sound of music they carry on them. It's, really, the only kind of cause I can see following with the fervent conviction I see applied all around me.
To those afflicted with those, awful, post rapture blues? I strongly suggest getting up off your feet and dusting yourself off. Your truth, which will be different from nearly every other truth, will be out there for you. To really "survive the Rapture" you've got to decide what it is that you can hold onto to pull you through the storm. Whatever you find you had better make sure is solid too, and don't be afraid to leap blindly to find it. Whatever is out there, you've got to be ready for it. It could be faith, or it could be a stretch of twenty four hours filled with all the affection and good movies you can handle. It could be a good drink, an even better smoke, a long conversation, or even the placid calm of serene silence in the company of one of your best friends.
Your savior from "The Rapture" is whatever you want to make of it. It's all about keeping going. Heaven is supposed to be full of all the things we need to be happy and content for the rest of our days, right? Well, fuck contentment. Everything anyone really needs to be blissfully, stupidly, happy is already right here in front of all of us. Why then do we need to die to find it? Why do we need to be reduced to simple souls and carted off to some bleach white, cloudy, landscape where some old father sits on High giving us everything we want? Why can't we simply have it all now? It's right there in front of us, all the time, and waiting for something you feel might be better to come along? Well, if you're angry about that, or even confused, you really have no one to blame but yourself.
So, fuck your rapture. Don't sit about waiting -- and to hell with actual hoping -- for it to happen. The world's not so bad, and the last thing we need is some new doomsday waiting to leap out of us from the shadows. There are plenty of, fire eyed, demons out there in the world; each one with their own unique brand of temptation, each with their own snarling set of fangs and hideous, brimstone, stench. They disguise themselves in ever kind of twisted bummer and letdown -- but they never linger long. Stop hanging on to the idea that life will end; everyone knows it will. The real trick is to hang onto that dream, ride it through this blistering, terrible, nightmare moments, and race on toward that tiny little light at the end of your own, personal, tunnel.
It's out there, that's a promise. It's that moment, at the very end of the road, where we finally come face to face with the terrors of all we are and ever have been. Maybe it's a matter of personal preference -- and should thus be promptly ignored -- but which is worse? Would you rather run into the end of your road and see yourself as some green eyed hustler; someone who cheated themselves out of living with a lifetime of worries and stress that the ride would, eventually be over? Would you rather, instead, be someone who comes to the end of the road to find a character of excess, so worked up and freaked out on an indulgence of life that it stands fifty feet tall, like some kind of trumped out comic book character?
I'd much rather find the end of the road with a full mirror; something I can use to look back down the path I've taken and find some real piece of workable art. What I create, with the fires of my own thoughts and the music of my own feet, I want to be something I can reflect on with a winning smile. Just remember, what you see when you turn around at the end of the road, is the only real measure of "success" in life. So go, live, set the world on fire and swim through the ocean. Drive fast cars, drink good whiskey, keep your loved ones close, never pass up a moment to tell those closest to you you appreciate them, and cling tightly to the great beauty you can only find in lovingly cooked food and a heart to share it with.
With that kind of motivation you're pretty much unstoppable; even Death's best horse would have hard time catching you, so what's to lose?
It all seems to have worked too. I'm still standing, and I've answered the important question with the action of answers. Why are we here? To experience, never to know, but to keep going in the face of all those lacking answers. It's not about the destination, or the even the truth, but about making the absolute most of the moments. The Rapture could have come and gone, honestly, and I don't think there would have been much different -- save maybe less coughing. It has never, ever, been about finding the light at the end of that tunnel, and really, never should be either; it's just about knowing it's there, giving you that notion that it -- that final moment -- is out there somewhere...waiting.
It is too, for everyone. There will, unavoidably, come that moment when the sands run out for all of us; when the tanks run dry and the music gets so quiet you just can't here it anymore. It's then, and only then, that the pale horse and its dark rider will catch up to you on the tail end of the proud highway. The more important question, armed with this kind of knowledge, the important question to ask yourself: "Why am I wasting time asking questions?" The time in the world we all have is limited and to waste it with seemingly pointless questioning? That just doesn't make a whole lot of sense. All this, pre and post, Rapture questioning just seems like time wasting.
So to all this questioning? I feel the need to quote General Anthony McAuliffe: "NUTS!" It's just that kind of white flag surrender that is going to fuck us all over in the end. The point of life? It's to live, not ask why. Find some model that works for you, even if it is Jesus, but don't be afraid to change lanes if it all doesn't seem to be working out for you. Getting angry because the path you were on doesn't pan out like you thought it should, especially when it's about the End of the World, it doesn't make any sense. You're still here, you get to keep going, to do better. If you were waiting in line for a ship that set sail without you? Why the hell are you standing on the shore, cursing and swearing like some rabid barbarian, at the ship that's already well out of reach?
Where we're going is something that should, by its right of existence, have the ability to change. Trains, planes, automobiles, and all other types of forward motion, have the ability to switch where they're going. Why should we be any different? Why should we be locked into some fucking twisted flight plan; are we all some autonomous collection of parts, rolling through the muck on some kind of freaked out autopilot? When the gears get clogged with that kind of thing, system error -- possibly shutdown -- is practically unavoidable. It's all about being adaptable to what's in front of you, being able to follow those strange winds and the sound of music they carry on them. It's, really, the only kind of cause I can see following with the fervent conviction I see applied all around me.
To those afflicted with those, awful, post rapture blues? I strongly suggest getting up off your feet and dusting yourself off. Your truth, which will be different from nearly every other truth, will be out there for you. To really "survive the Rapture" you've got to decide what it is that you can hold onto to pull you through the storm. Whatever you find you had better make sure is solid too, and don't be afraid to leap blindly to find it. Whatever is out there, you've got to be ready for it. It could be faith, or it could be a stretch of twenty four hours filled with all the affection and good movies you can handle. It could be a good drink, an even better smoke, a long conversation, or even the placid calm of serene silence in the company of one of your best friends.
Your savior from "The Rapture" is whatever you want to make of it. It's all about keeping going. Heaven is supposed to be full of all the things we need to be happy and content for the rest of our days, right? Well, fuck contentment. Everything anyone really needs to be blissfully, stupidly, happy is already right here in front of all of us. Why then do we need to die to find it? Why do we need to be reduced to simple souls and carted off to some bleach white, cloudy, landscape where some old father sits on High giving us everything we want? Why can't we simply have it all now? It's right there in front of us, all the time, and waiting for something you feel might be better to come along? Well, if you're angry about that, or even confused, you really have no one to blame but yourself.
So, fuck your rapture. Don't sit about waiting -- and to hell with actual hoping -- for it to happen. The world's not so bad, and the last thing we need is some new doomsday waiting to leap out of us from the shadows. There are plenty of, fire eyed, demons out there in the world; each one with their own unique brand of temptation, each with their own snarling set of fangs and hideous, brimstone, stench. They disguise themselves in ever kind of twisted bummer and letdown -- but they never linger long. Stop hanging on to the idea that life will end; everyone knows it will. The real trick is to hang onto that dream, ride it through this blistering, terrible, nightmare moments, and race on toward that tiny little light at the end of your own, personal, tunnel.
It's out there, that's a promise. It's that moment, at the very end of the road, where we finally come face to face with the terrors of all we are and ever have been. Maybe it's a matter of personal preference -- and should thus be promptly ignored -- but which is worse? Would you rather run into the end of your road and see yourself as some green eyed hustler; someone who cheated themselves out of living with a lifetime of worries and stress that the ride would, eventually be over? Would you rather, instead, be someone who comes to the end of the road to find a character of excess, so worked up and freaked out on an indulgence of life that it stands fifty feet tall, like some kind of trumped out comic book character?
I'd much rather find the end of the road with a full mirror; something I can use to look back down the path I've taken and find some real piece of workable art. What I create, with the fires of my own thoughts and the music of my own feet, I want to be something I can reflect on with a winning smile. Just remember, what you see when you turn around at the end of the road, is the only real measure of "success" in life. So go, live, set the world on fire and swim through the ocean. Drive fast cars, drink good whiskey, keep your loved ones close, never pass up a moment to tell those closest to you you appreciate them, and cling tightly to the great beauty you can only find in lovingly cooked food and a heart to share it with.
With that kind of motivation you're pretty much unstoppable; even Death's best horse would have hard time catching you, so what's to lose?
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