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Objective Reality - The Meaningless Mechanical Universe of Body

What conception of reality in its right mind could make any sense out of this!

We are standing on a planet that’s revolving at nine hundred miles an hour. The sun and all that you can see is moving at a million miles a day in an outer spiral orbi, forty thousand miles an hour. Our galaxy contains one hundred billion stars. It is one hundred thousand light years from side to side. It is sixteen thousand light years thick. We go round every two hundred million years. It is only one of millions of billions in this expanding universe. Big Deal!

What is the probable age of the first extraterrestrial civilization with which we might make contact? r = (P L 2 + P L 2 + P L 2 + P L 2 + P L 2)/2L

There are hundreds of billions of galaxies within optical range and trillions that aren’t. How pathetically meaningless!

Our universe is about 8,000 million years old and it’s going to last at least another 6 or 7 billion years. How absurd! Who gives a good poop!

I demand to know what my relationship is with V404 Cygni. I am told it is a “visible star with an unseen companion (black hole) that is emitting, sporadically, bursts of x-rays with a luminarity more than a million times the total brightness of the sun at all wavelengths.”

 

The whole universe of space/time is in constant motion and it’s impossible to locate anything except where it was or used to be but ain’t anymore.

 

The fact of the matter is we have absolutely no idea who we are, what we are, where we are, when we are or even if we are.

Why are we locked in this prison of human beingness? We demand to know what’s going on out there!

 

Enough of this! Who is in charge here? In other words, who ordained, decreed, foretold, executed, proclaimed, condemned or miscreated the apparent organizational self-existent awareness that is a human being?

The range of communication in the present space/time continuum as constituted by human body selfconsciousness is so narrowly limited it’s ludicrous. Even our spatial mobility is virtually nil.


If we’re isolated in quarantine with the disease of HateFear,
how about inoculating us with some PureLove.


If some god or other tries to tell me that this is the way I’m created, and that this is the way it is and has to be,
you can tell him to go to hell!


If this is a galactic penal colony, what was our crime? What did we do to deserve this?
How long is our sentence? We appeal!


If this is a looney bin for amnesiacs and other crazies, it’s time for some shock therapy.


We must escape the gravity of our meaningless laws of objective cause and effect, not through continuing observation of acceleration of our apparent relative velocity, but rather by acknowledging and experiencing the totality of Reality in congruity of sustained undivided eventfulness. This is another way of saying, “It’s time for us to spring out of this hell hole.”