TYPO IN TITLE--This is PART 1!
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Imagine a super hero movie where a race of people are trapped inside their own self-referring hallucination. This people was created in order to dispel the hallucinatory world they are trapped inside of. Their Creator arranged this paradoxical situation so that their freedom would be preserved. They could not be “rescued” by something from outside the inverted loop or the absolute Freedom which was their original nature would be destroyed. In other words, if the Creator saved them, they would be lost. The only solution was for this race of creatures to learn to ‘read’ the effects of the hallucination using their innate mechanism of freedom which was built-in at the start. On the surface it seems the ‘Creator’ is diabolical, having created free beings of his own radically imperturbable nature, and yet subjecting them to a prison of perceptual bars, bars fabricated of the case hardened Will of the Creator Himself.
If one could say the Creator had a ‘substance’ or a ‘mind’ it was Absolute in every dimension-in Truth He lacked any possibility of compromise. In Peace he was total entropy manifest as changelessness and complete lack of movement. As Love He was an all-consuming furnace which was restless to absorb and purify in an unending cycle. Given these characteristics, the Freedom He endowed as the absolute state of His race of creatures took form as ‘form’-separateness, escape, exclusivity, novelty, difference. This was the gift He built-in-this was the prison they had to ‘see-through.’ They had to escape a radical dilemma-to either suffer their unique freedom of expression that would ultimately contract more and more tightly until form itself was crushed, or recognize that the process was an epiphenomenon of their radically free nature and stop. Stopping had to be an utterly free choice. As long as they saw potential in building the hallucination, Truth was a goad toward the absolute contractive end.
The film ends with the pulse-racing drama of one of the creatures who alone has the tools to pierce the impending singularity event, who sees an apocalyptic process of global collapse unfolding even as billions of his brain-washed fellows do not. The timer clicks down to fractions of a second in a rapidly shrinking window of opportunity to save this reality from annihilation. The lone and isolated protagonist defies the mind wrenching cleavage of inner contradictions, reaches out for a blind choice, dumb luck and faithless faith. He chooses correctly and averts disaster. In an instant of global simultaneity-- reality is restored, peace returns, and the Creator’s original Intent is revealed-our protagonist is shocked to realize he was the only one in the conflagration, a disaster in his own mind. Camera zooms out in a crane shot that shows he is and was the only one involved, all along. The worst thing that could have happened was it would keep going, just as it had been for untold eons. ‘Fin.’ Curtain calls, solo actor-director takes a bow to no one and goes to drink Mountain Dew in the green room with the Producer.
Why can't it be easier than this? Why does Bruce Willis runover broken glass, wrap a fire hose and leap out a 70 story window to escape an explosion he set off himself? Why does Neo, the anomaly, have to choose between global decimation and the love of his life? Why did Timmy crawl into that damned drain pipe and get stuck in the middle of nowhere with only his dumb (literally) dog Lassie to save the day? We obviously like it this way. The action film is our only compensation for rejecting a place where none of that falderal is necessary. That brings us to the larger topic of, "Why did we reject heaven, back in the day?" It's not because we didn't like it--it's because we were embarrassed.
Try this--you are sitting across the table from Tom Cruise--assume he is 6 foot 1 and not 5 foot 7. He's nice. He is smart and generous, really. He tells you about his schedule--up at 5, work-outs, meetings, charitable acts, juggling 4 projects in addition foundations to help actors and sick kids. He listen, offers great advice. Let's say Nicole Kidman worked out and they are happy. In the course of small talk you learn he flies jet planes, has three black belts, has his Formula 1 race car license, directs and acts in films but takes no credit for any of it. Tired of me-me-me he wants to hear about you. "What do you like to do?" he asks. "What do you find inspiring--goals, aspirations?" You can only defer in negatives. You say, "Wellllll, I don't get up at five, the relationship is so-so, I don't think that much, not sure, huh, never really thought of that--well, Tom, I got nuthin. Let's talk about you." Now, do divine math. Cruise times a billion is greater than You divided by a billion equals COSMIC embarrassment in the comparison. God is trying to teach us to stop comparisons.
22 авг 2024