I love comments on these blogs. They’re far more entertaining than the posts to me. I wish I knew how to put the comments on the front page, especially with my political blog. They do if you open a particular post, but I mean in general.
I guess I use the political blog to vent why I hate people. I find it cathartic. I use this one to explain why I love people. No wonder no one reads the other one. I get so worked up I don’t even want to post on it sometimes. Why would anyone want to read a bunch of pissing and moaning?
I went on one of my anti-religion rants last week and got the expected comments from friends. I know they feel I’m missing something in my life by not recognizing the vast beauty of creation. I can only counter that so much is possible and we’re letting it all slip through our fingers if we wait for a non- existent afterlife. Life is what we make it.
The cynic in me sees it as the height of human arrogance that anything beyond our comprehension is, almost by definition, divine.
The bleeding heart in me finds it tragic that people are so easily manipulated by others with religion based fear.
There’s also the added dimension that we’re aware of our own mortality. That’s a pretty big thing to carry around with you!
The very idea of the “wrath of God” conjures up an idea of heaven that sounds like Hell to me. Withholding eternity because you don’t beliveth sounds like an omnipotent, omnipresent ego to me. Like God is kind of a big, dangerous child.
This all sounds like a post that belongs in my political blog but there’s a reason I’m saying this here.
That blog is for my gripes. This one is about why I love people. In fact I’m going to post short stories occasionally called “Why I love people”.
An example of one of these stories is the old lady in my neighborhood who walks her, obviously very happy, rottweiler that wears a bow tie. This story has all the elements. Not the least of which is love between different species.
Yesterday I was listening to Science Friday on the radio and another example of why I love people happened.
Ira Flatow was interviewing a scientist about his research with the nervous system. They were hooking up electrodes to someone’s brain and manipulating images on a computer with thought. They’re trying to give back physical function to people with nerve damage.
The scientist, in a very thick accent I didn’t recognize, was talking about the complexity of the network of nerves in the arm and hands that made it possible “to reach, to grasp, to comb the hair.”
How could you not love a species that combs its hair?