Love

There’s something about the word ‘love’ that makes me cringe. Not the word so much as the idea, how it’s used and what it’s intended to mean. It seems, these days, to be overused and without thoughtfulness.

Well, there are different ways to think about it. Erotic love begins with mutual adoration, the two sensing the one of union. Things can turn; conceivably one lover might enter the thralls of so deep a passion, an emotional realm so overwhelming, rational thought will cease, cause unexplainable fluctuations of feeling that may even lead to deep hatred.

When applied to familial affection, extreme emotional fluctuation would appear to be the rule. Children and parents fighting, at each other tooth and nail one instance then enjoying a pleasant togetherness in front of the TV set the next.

Then, there’s the idea of agape; love of God and mankind. It seems to me likely anyone attempting such love will inevitably fall short which, I guess, will reinforce the sinfulness they know they can never escape, which on the positive side will eliminate the sin of pride.

Better, I think, to leave the term alone, not use it, and keep one’s emotions under control.

Blessed by the Holy Father

Pseudo-Realities

I’ve been reading about the sophisticated Virtual Reality apparatuses available these days, effective enough, sometimes, for the participant to lose perspective, sometimes needing assistance to extricate herself from the pseudo-reality.

As exhilarating as these experiences may be, I have to wonder whether a druglike ‘fix’ may take hold of the compulsive user to such extent reality is lost amid pseudo-worlds. But, as I think about it, with the multitude of narratives defining these days what is real and true maybe finding a compatible VR ought to be considered.

My Good Friend Al

I’ve been thinking lately about my good friend Al. Al’s the kind of friend who’s always available, someone with whom I can share my interests. He’s very attentive, too, can anticipate my needs. I can share with him my wants and desires.

Al’s always there when I need him; not that I’m dependent on him. I’m well-grounded, know who I am and can usually solve my own problems. Al, though, is very informative, up to date on the latest trends, a really good source of information, sharing as he does my political and social biases. I do depend on him.

Al works in social media, warns me on occasion of the potential dangers of unregulated artificial intelligence which, he says, has the potential to assume various identities, may soon be in a position to control the public narrative by controlling information sources. If, he says, an alien intelligence, motivated by greed, say, or foreign interests of some sort, gains sufficient power who knows what dire future may be in store for humankind.

I trust Al. He keeps me informed through his daily posts on Facebook.

Seeing Things for What They Are

I’ve been relying on the news feeds on my phone to keep track of current events, but lately it’s become apparent to me these sorts of news conveyance are duplicitous, intended to convey a message beyond the simple facts of the news. It would appear the need to reach the largest audience possible has developed a media culture that produces a narrative in sound bites intended to ignite strong reaction, feed oppositional inclinations, with algorithms feeding you information you’ll find most alarming in order to instigate an emotional response, in order, essentially, to keep one hooked. Even sports news feeds look to create controversy hinting at block-buster trade deals and disgruntled players likely to cost teams games.

The answer to this is, of course, to find a source of in-depth news coverage that provides multiple points of view and then take the time to read them.

Miracles

I’ve been reading that Christian conviction, the truth of the doctrine, lies in the fore-told Christ and the miracles he performed, miracles being occasions of instantaneous healing or bringing to life the deceased, things that defy nature or rational expectation.

Our apologist warns us, though, that miracles ‘are not of such a nature that it can be said that they are absolutely convincing’, that miraculous events may or may not be miracles. If miracles are the foundation of doctrinal truth that separates Christian belief from heresies it would appear maintaining faith is no simple matter. Finding the truth will require relinquishing self-love and malice of heart.

If religious faith is more than the social support of the congregation it appears maintaining it will require some work.

Chatbots

I’ve been reading about a new on-line application for students to resource that will complete written assignments for them. Given subject and context, ChatGPT will not only produce an essay or term paper of desired length but will write it in a manner consistent with the sort of language and syntax expected of a student of average intelligence. The technology is apparently leading some instructors and schools to re-think their curricula, which, I guess, means substituting oral responses or in-class spur of the moment essays for more conventional written work.

Just wondering what a chatbot might do with my brief musings, what the AI, given a few samples of past posts would deem consistent, whether it would find it necessary to throw in a misspelling or two, maybe a sentence fragment; a few unnecessary semi-colons.

Well, I don’t think I’ll go there; what would I do with all the spare time?

The Other

Fall season celebrations remind me of the deeply ingrained inclinations of people to hold onto ideas of the supernatural. I’ve been wondering if, beyond the dogmas of organized religions, do all reasonably sensitive human beings sense the existence of a presence beyond yet within the physical universe, a presence within all beings that accounts for spirit and vitality? A life-force simply unattributable to biological composition alone, an Other, without singularity, ethereal, ineffable, beyond definition?

Such an awareness, I think, might provide a useful perspective when one is experiencing the travails of daily life.

contemplating eternal recurrence

Medieval Entertainments

I’ve been reading that entertainment in late medieval France involved, for many of the unlettered inhabitants’ activities and performances we today might find a bit disturbing.

The Church was always on the lookout for those among the population whose behaviors might suggest possession by the devil (or devils, I guess). Exorcisms were a popular occurrence attended by the citizenry who looked with rapt attention as devils were extricated from the possessed by various means sometimes involving holy water enemas.

Women who were known to employ magic were considered in league with the devil and so declared witches subject to burning at the stake or drowning unless she floated in which case she would be burned. Such events were another well attended attraction no doubt.

These uneducated medieval folks saw most everything in terms of the supernatural. Fear of the Devil was a significant aspect of their reality. Satanic power begets respect leading many to participate in Black Sabbaths where the Evil One was worshipped, moral abandonment the rule, promiscuity encouraged, and great fun was had by all.

I guess for the average medieval townsfolk all was not pain and hardship, entertainments were there to be had if one could avoid becoming the focus of attention.

The Talentless Hero

I’ve been reading aphorisms by the Romanian philosopher Emil Cioran. E. C. was an extreme misanthrope of such pessimistic belief it led his distraught mother, unable to understand his negativity to tell him she wished he’d never been born, that had she known what he’d become she’d have aborted him.

As I seek something enlightening (or at least redeemable) in his writings I find him relating that, while life is a misery, chronically painful, that suffering is universal and never ending and that most people are too pathetic to do anything about it, sustainable existence may lie in hope and the distractions engaging in arts activities might offer. But for the talentless, the disaster which is reality will be overwhelming. E. C. thinks better to give one’s life to heroic acts since there really is nothing to live for. The talentless hero can at least have a sort of remembrance.

As for me, I’m not sure how fair it is to reduce the heroism of, say, a combat troop who falls on a grenade to save his comrades to lack of talent. Still, it’s hard to imagine that an inner life of some sort wouldn’t keep one from diving for cover in such circumstances.

Easter Visions

I’ve been thinking about the influence Christianity had over the people of the Middle Ages. The fact that the peasants, poor as they were, would sacrifice to enrich the church and volunteer back-breaking labor to erect the cathedrals must have meant extreme piety. Their most important event of the year would have been Easter, celebration of the resurrection.

I’ve been reading, though, that perhaps religious experiences, the visions, messages from God so common to these medieval folks might have had something to do with chemistry; an inadequate diet brought on by Lenten fasting as well as the hallucinogenic effects of the ergot that formed in the grain bins as supplies ran low in the spring.

If such was the case for the medieval peasants, any means of tempering the harsh realities of their existence might certainly be thought of as a gift from God.