The Ineffectually Inferior Nature of Supernatural Thinking: Or a Short Blasphemy


Scottish philosopher David Hume put the nail in the coffin, so to speak, on the philosophical plausibility of miracles over 200 years ago.

The Benson study of intercessory prayer at Harvard University settled the matter beyond a reason of a doubt. If you can’t wish for a miracle, nor be able to ask God for a miracle, then what good is a miracle?

Like Professor Daniel C. Dennett I agree that anyone who still affirms a belief in miracles needs to give a really really really good explanation. (Emphasis on the reallys is mine)

With no prayer there can be no miracle, unless God is omniscient, knowing all, and then a whole slew of logical problems arise. For example, if God knew everything, this would make his knowing that humanity would sin sort of creepy, since he allowed it, at any rate, it would be total theocracy and submission to a being which framed us into committing the worse possible crime against him and then chose to punish us for it (which he already knew he was going to do—which makes it premeditated). A bit capricious and cruel if you ask me.

Then there is the matter whether or not God was truly omnipotent, because if knowing everything wasn’t enough, being ALL powerful comes with its own set of worries. For example, if we were living under the suppressive force of a tyrannical *all knowing *all powerful God, then there would be absolutely no reason for Christ’s death, because like Muslims, I’d have to agree, when they say Allah just forgave humanity, because he is that powerskull… cuz he’s God. End of discussion.

So to know the mind of a sinner and be an all loving being but not have the power to forgive them is a contradiction. Christians will often say, but he chose to sacrifice his own son and redeem us! Christ is our salvation, they will plead. And this shows the limit of their imaginations, because if God was *all knowing and *all powerful and this was the absolute best he could think of, then logically speaking, this makes God *all incompetent as well.

To save someone else’s life (vicariously) by sacrificing one’s own son in a ritualistic blood sacrifice is nonsensical. How does this exactly atone for our sins? Instead, if Christ was divine, and chose to masturbate in a symbolic ritualistic way (not that much better and spilling blood) wouldn’t this suffice? I mean, if God was *all powerful, and this was the best way to save our immortal souls, would he not have chosen this means of symbolic masturbation instead? See, the idea of a blood sacrifice IS that disturbing and grotesquely ludicrous, not to mention, inadequate for a God who supposedly has the power to will any alternative into existence. A blood sacrifice seems rather primitive and Bronze aged if you ask me. In fact, if you think about it, it’s just plain stupid. Sort of like a masturbating Christ.

Not that it really matters anyway, after all, Jesus came back alive a few days later (or so the story goes). Why even waist one’s time with a blood sacrifice? At least we know why people masturbate, it’s fun, and occasionally pleasurable. Picture it with me for a moment–not the masturbating part but the aftermath of the atonement (get your mind out of the gutter)–so Jesus dies a horrible and gruesome death by crucifixion, and  while all the disciples are in mourning, sitting around lamenting and reminiscing about the messiah’s death, low and behold, who should materialize through the wall? In bursts a fully materialized Jesus (in the flesh!) and freaks everyone out!
“Holy hell! You scared the living bajeezus out of us Jesus!”
“Well it’s me! I’ve died and come back for you!”
But looking awfully divinely reconstituted, Thomas doubts, and says, “Oh yeah?! Prove you’re actually the same Jesus we knew!”
“Oh ye of little faith, gaze upon my completely new heavenly body and behold the wounds I received from yesterday! Or the day before, or before that even! Actually, it doesn’t really matter. Go ahead, touch them, just stick your fingers in and wiggle them around a bit, see for yourself!”
(But when some of the women disciples rush up to touch Jesus he warns them that he cannot be touched! And in the same story in another book, there is no Jesus but just an empty garden, with perhaps a gardener. So you could either conclude that they mistook Jesus for the local gardener, or else, that the gardener was Jesus? But what’s this business about not being able to be touched when he then tells Thomas to dig around in his wounds? Logic FAIL! And where does this mysterious garden come from and what’s it’s purpose in the Gospels–since it has absolutely nothing to do with the continuity or setting of the plot? Continuity FAIL! Just like the torn shroud and the last supper, major continuity fails all around.)
Eventually Thomas does come around, but his skepticism is well deserved, because the two possibilities are this: 1) this is the messiah resurrected—in the flesh! The very son of God no less! (Let’s not forget that Jesus is also co-eternal with God, therefore God kills his son and commits suicide to save us! Wait… what? How does this map out?) OR… 2) It’s some lunatic who popped a couple of metal stakes through his hand as to appear to be a resurrected messiah and is now joyfully asking people to painfully inflict more damage by aggravating his open wounds! And what kind of sick, perverted, sadomasochist would do such a thing?

Indeed, no amount of celestial glowing techniques will do away with the inherent contradictions of the story. But just ignore them, why not, it’s certainly easier to just go along with the larger themes, because these are what really matter; unless of course, they seem so incredible, so utterly unbelievable, and so ultimately irrational in such a magnitude as to cause the story to lose its significance and be totally ridiculous.

I’m sure God has better things to do, such as stopping the universe (he apparently designed) from imploding and self destructing. But oh well, let’s ignore the science, since it seems as though he was a crackpot designer anyway, since he designed the universe in just such a way as to make it seem that he does not exist! That or somebody fell asleep behind the wheel again.

I mean seriously, after getting out a few blasphemies I guess I’ll go play with my useless nipples (thanks God for them, they’re great! But what on God’s green earth are they for? On women, yes! Love it, wouldn’t change a thing! They serve a purpose. On me… really? Is it an aesthetic thing? This design thing baffles me. Strange though that the whole intelligent design thing is predicated on the necessity of purpose in nature, that obviously specific and purposeful traits then act as proof of having been designed to fulfill a specific purpose, all except for my man-nipples that is. So maybe design doesn’t need a purpose? But then doesn’t this negate the argument in the first place? Has anyone even seriously thought about this? I mean, come on! I think I’ll stick with the theory of evolution, at least it doesn’t cause me any cognitive discord).

So thanks for reading, and I apologize if I had any spelling errors (I know powerskull isn’t even a word). In fact, I apologize on God’s behalf, since he made my eyes very poorly… and they seem to be getting worse. Spelling errors are inevitable! But God already knew that… in true Orwellian fashion… he knows everything. He’s watching you!

Also, I think I might be getting a kidney stone. Some design!

But at least the space time continuum is stable! (For now) 

And since a blasphemy is technically a sin, and a death sentence for an eternity in hell (if you can’t dissuade yourself from believing–and you’re just stuck a debased sinner regardless) then I say why not add a little coveting to it just to make it juicier and all the more scandalous?
 
I like big butts and I cannot lie.
How about a little idol worship on top? (But it’s okay, honest to God, because it’s God’s wife, Asherah, as if we could forget about her!)


And heck, is it so wrong that I find Haruna Ai attractive (even though she’s a he)?

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