Life after Life

Generally speaking, a religion is a closed system of facts, beliefs, stories, myths, and practices shared by a group of people. Most, perhaps all, religions arise fundamentally as a reaction to human mortality and the personal anxiety associated therewith. The ultimate purpose of a religion is to provide comfort by suggesting answers to the vexing questions regarding the creation of life, the purpose of life, and life after death.

Most religions have a spiritual component and pay homage to a deity or deities. It is readily apparent that human knowledge is woefully incomplete and that we are not in control of events, thus the need for a supreme being to blame and/or beseech regarding natural events and the outcomes of human endeavors.

Religions have been used in the service of controlling human behavior through reward and punishment for particular actions. Many of these incentives and disincentives are promised in the afterlife. Islamic suicide bombers who attack infidels are rewarded posthumously with milk and honey–and the company of virgins. Christian sinners are burned in Hell. Good Buddhists move up to the next level on the freeway to Nirvana.

According to John 3:16, Christianity promises eternal life as a reward for believing in Jesus Christ. It seems to me that, from a human perspective, eternal life would be incredibly boring. How would one ever accomplish anything knowing that he literally has forever to get things done? What's time to a hog ...or an angel?

I hope for something different, something more. If you concur, try this: Imagine a life after death scenario that you would find satisfying. Even an atheist can participate in this exercise! No faith required. No deity needed. If you are religious, forget the teachings of your belief system. Just answer the question: What do I want death to be like?

I'll give you my answer in a day or two. Meanwhile think about it and if you wish, post your ideal afterlife scenario in the comments below.

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Oh Captain! my Captain! - again

Below is an item I posted in December of 2010, which is now buried at the bottom of this blog. I thought it worth bringing to the top again. BTW, I did not receive a response from the White House.

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I am deeply disappointed with my president. Below is the text from a letter I sent to him a few days ago. The poem is a parody of one written by Whitman in response to the death of Abraham Lincoln.


December 16, 2010

With apologies to Walt Whitman:

        O Captain! my Captain!
        Rise up and feel our pain.
        Why have you deserted us
        Time and time again?

        O Captain! my Captain!
        I fear that they have won.
        All our hopes and all our dreams,
        Our "fearful trip" undone.

        My Captain does not answer;
        He seems no longer to care.
        And we are left to face the storm
        In heartache and despair.

Dear Mr. President:

How have you so badly lost your way in just these two years. We gave you our money and our vote; you gave us watered down health care. We gave you our faith and our hope; you sent more troops to Afghanistan. We gave you our trust and our love; you gave tax cuts to millionaires.

Where is the President of our hopes and dreams? Where is the President who would lead us from the wilderness of ill health, the valley of financial oppression, and the battlefields of needless wars.

Enough of compromise! Just do it! Damn the filibusters! Full speed ahead! We didn't elect you to negotiate; we elected you to lead! Damn it, Man! Take back the wheel and steer our ship of state out of this political storm and into the tranquil waters of justice, equality, and peace.

No more compromise!
No more compromise!
No more compromise!

With waning respect,

John Floyd
--a citizen in Waxhaw, NC

Tortoise, Terrapin, Turtle

Hearing "gopher tortoise", you might imagine a furry head darting this way and that at the top of an upright shell, propped up by the beast's hind legs. Well, no. The gopher tortoise is so named not because it looks like a gopher, but because it burrows like a gopher. A single Gopherus polyphemus will have several burrows, up to 40 feet long and 10 feet deep! Since more than 360 other species use its burrows for protective shelter, the gopher tortoise has earned the designation of keystone species, since its demise would endanger the survival of 360 other critters.

Gopherus polyphemus

Hmmm, I wonder: What's the opposite of keystone species, i.e., a species whose departure from  the ecosystem would be considered a positive event? Whatever the category is called, I'd wager that human beings are high on the list.

Ever consider the difference between tortoise, terrapin, and turtle? Loosely speaking, they're cousins. More specifically, tortoises live on land and have feet while turtles have flippers, and terrapins are turtles that live in fresh or brackish waters. In other words: tortoises live inland, terrapins along the coast, and turtles in the sea. Now you know.

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Vortex riddle

Vine around tree

Urban legend has it that a bathtub whirlpool spins one way in the Earth's northern hemisphere and the other way south of the equator. Not true: the vortex of an open drain doesn't spin consistently one way or the other. However, natural water currents and air masses are influenced by the Coriolis effect, which creates so-called inertial circles that rotate clockwise in the northern hemisphere and counter-clockwise in the southern hemisphere. [NB: For some reason, low pressure weather systems always spin counter-clockwise in the North, clockwise in the South. Go figure...]

The riddle: Here in Waxhaw, NC, most vines, as viewed from above, grow around a tree in a clockwise fashion, like the water and air currents. My question is, does the Coriolis effect influence the path of a vine wrapping around a tree, such that a hemisphere effect occurs? In other words, do vines spiral counter-clockwise in the southern hemisphere?

Now, we just need a comment from someone south of the equator.

We're waiting...

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Sharing Nature

Dog whisperer, Cesar Millan, feels the most natural situation for a dog in our society is to be hooked up with a homeless person. Man and dog are always together; sharing the great outdoors, food & water; and always trekking about. I feel my pack and I are a step up on that scenario.

After breakfast this morning I headed out with Marley and Romeo into the woodsy haunts of Trails End Farm. The Farm is 200 acres of meadows, wooded hills, and a couple of creeks. The wildlife include deer, squirrels, rabbits, as well as snakes, lizards, toads, and tortoises. There are also burrowing critters like moles, voles, and gophers. [Pictured from last winter is a rare daylight photo of an opossum that got caught out and scurried up a tree when the dogs approached.]

Opossum

Since they are not leashed, a venture into the woods with the dogs always feels more like a hunt than a mere walk. While I stick to the ATV trails, the dogs dart this way and that, chasing squirrels or the scent of deer. Today Romeo sniffed out a mole, dived nose-first after it, caught and killed it. I'm certain that in his previous feral life, he would have eaten it. Today he didn't need to since he'd already had half a can of Alpo, his ration of dried food, and the tail end of my breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast.

He was proud of his kill and protected it from Marley's grasp for a time, but eventually both abandoned the hapless mole. Some might find it cruel, but Romeo was just doing what came naturally. He received a sense of satisfaction, which I must admit I shared with him, and his kill would would not be wasted. The forest scavengers would soon be feeding on it.

Naturally may be defined as "in accordance with Nature", to which all animals are much closer than we humans. Humans are far removed from Nature by the effects of language, technology, and complex social environments. However, we can still participate vicariously in the joys of Nature by hanging out with our animal friends.

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Tribute to a cup

In a discourse on the impermanence of things, Thai Zen Master Achaan Chah, advises us not to worry about breaking a glass.

        You say, "Don't break my glass!" Can you prevent something
        that's breakable from breaking? It will break sooner or later.
        If you don't break it, someone else will. If someone else
        doesn't break it, one of the chickens will!... Penetrating the

        truth of things, [we realize] this glass is already broken.

My coffee cup

Each morning I drink my coffee from a cup I've had for ten years, given to me by a lady friend from Korea, a culture with a long tradition of appreciation for handmade pottery. I value the cup very much and so I offer this tribute before it meets its eventual fate as shards upon the floor.

The lady and I went our separate ways, so my attachment to the cup is partly sentimental, but more so because it is well-made and eminently functional. During my "back to the land" phase from 1976 to 1984, I tried unsuccessfully to make it as a potter, so I feel qualified to point out the merits of the humble pottery cup.

Naïve shoppers think a coffee cup should be mug-like, thick and heavy. Not so. A good cup should be only about a quarter of an inch thick, substantial enough to hold and transfer warmth to your hand, but not so thick as to rob the coffee of its heat, nor so heavy it's an effort to lift.

The lip of the cup should flare outward and meet your lips with a yen-and-yang fit that feels natural and lets the coffee flow evenly from the cup. The sides should be more or less vertical; a bulbous shape requires too much upward tilt to drink the last drops of coffee.

The handle should be generous enough to grasp with at least two fingers. The glaze and any decoration should be simple and complement the color of coffee.

Bottom of cup

Appreciation for my particular cup is enhanced by the obvious fact that it was formed on a wheel by a very experienced potter. It was apparently created quickly and without fussiness. The spiral of rings are uniform and tight. Though the cup has a grainy feel, the lip has been smoothed with a small strip of chamois.

Looking at the bottom of the cup, I am in awe of the potter's skill. After being formed, the bottom of the cup was beveled with a wooden tool, cut off the wheel with a loop of twisted string, and stamped with the potter's mark. The organically simple handle, shaped by pulling, was added later when the cup was "leather hard", firm but not yet dry.

An oatmeal glaze, a simple decoration, and firing to stoneware temperature complete the process. The result: an aesthetically pleasing, sturdy and functional vessel for enjoying my morning coffee. It may be "already broken", but the cup will enjoy my utmost care to prolong that eventuality.

P.S.
During the cell phone photo shoot of the cup at the barn, Romeo (the dog) lurched at a mouse behind a large mirror leaning against the wall, which tipped and broke with a crash. An example of synchronicity? Hmmm...

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