The Biology of Truth and the Physics of Intelligence (6.27.10)

Ho! Fooled you again, boy!

For there can be no "biology of truth," any more than there can be a "physics of intelligence" -- that is, unless you inhabit an inverted cosmos or are psycho-spiritually inside-out. In short, if you are existentially lost -- and, like our late-night anti-Thomist commenter yesterday, couldn't find the Creator's aseity with both hands and a road map.

For our God is not a "God of the horizontal gaps" but a God of the eternal silence that gives birth to each vertical moment. Coonversely, the almighty randomness of Darwinism is merely a god of the saps, a dopiate for the scientistic masses to preserve their slumber and prevent them from being disturbed by the Real. Zzzzzzzzzz... Wake me when I'm tenured.

Coonversely, we are happy to discuss the truth of biology and the intelligence of physics, which we did at some length in the Coonifesto. As such, we will not review that material here, being that it is so far behind us in the seerview mirror that we no longer remember most of it. For the self-evident presence of "intelligent design" by no means proves the existence of God, much less the Judeo-Christian God. Rather, it merely proves the existence of intelligence, which is to say, Truth (being that the former is a function, or descent, of the latter -- no Truth, no intellect, no service).

Careful readers of the book may notice the precise turning point when the B'ob made this realization, and then promptly "moved on" (or, more precisely, up and in). Let's see if we can find it.

Can't find it. But the point is, the recognosis of cosmic intelligence merely permits one to de-invert reality, so that one is once again living in a right-side up cosmos. (See page 256: Return your soul to its upright position and extinguish all (me)mories, we're in for a promised landing.)

Yes, that is where the real funwork begins -- your summa vocation -- because now we're back at the humble bottom (instead of the fake promethian top of a grandiose scientism), and must carry out the hard work of spiritual evolution, or realizing what you know. In short, we move from the materialistic penthouse to the spiritual repenthouse, where we pent and repent again as necessary in order to keep our metanoia fresh and clean. Even so, we would rather be a stooge in heaven than a prince in hell.

"Faith" is the gap between what we know and what we shall realize, so long as we cultivate virtue and simplicity, and breath within the space of a silent aspiration. But the more one realizes, the more justification for faith one possesses, until it becomes the norm to simply live in the perpetual uncertainty of an open and unsaturated faith, symbolized in the book by (o) and (---).

In so doing, one lives close to the cosmic spring where the vertical waters flow down into creation on a moment to moment basis. Or, to adopt the mystical formulation favored by Coons, we loiter on the threshold of the transdimensional doorway, looking for handouts from Petey, who usually comes through if he's not too terribly busy.

Biology is about "the adventure of life," whereas a Raccoon is more interested in the "adventure of consciousness" which is the very point of the former.

For us, Life proves that there really is such a thing as a free launch pad, so we don't spend a lot of time worrying about how this wonderful means of ascent appeared in a dead and meaningless cosmos. The point is, it's here, and we're going to take advantage of it. As Howlin' Wolf growled, we're going to have our fun, in spite of the dour and scowling Darwinists who think they hold the prison keys. But keys to heaven are everywhere.

You see, the blinkered Darwinist thinks that life only points down and back to the dead matter out of which it was magically given birth. But for the Raccoon, life is a symbol (symbol meaning "thrown across") that again points "up" and "in." We do not see life as a circular series of lateral mutations, but an open spiral that ultimately rejoins whole and part, absolute and relative, time and eternity, center and periphery, man and God.

In ether worlds, it is a vertical lifeline thrown down into dead matter in order to divinize and redeem it. And human beings are the "axis" or "pivot" to the whole enterprise. Deep down we all recognize this, albeit often in a garbled and perverted manner, for example, the environmental hysterics or the pompous and deluded LGFers who know they are superior to biology, but have no idea how.

Life! If Darwinism is all there is, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing. I have no respect for a reductionistic Darwinist who is not a nihilist and a sociopath, for he is merely a weakling and coward who lacks basic intellectual honesty and the courage of his convictions. He has his feet planted in the soil of Judeo-Christian values, even while he has his head planted in his ass.

Give me the brave Nietzsche any day, in whose writing one may at least sense the giddy abandonment of living in spiritual free fall, and feeling the breath of satan along one's keel! I know that bracing feeling, the feeling of being a Superman who can fly! Of course, in that world one can only fly downward, but still, it's fun while it lasts! For me, it lasted about eight months, while for others it can apparently last a lifetime.

Looking at my behind, I can see that I touched the outer limit of that dark world as long ago as October of 1973, by which time I had already reached the end of the lyin'. However, it took another twenty years or so to fully grasp that, and to put my head deeply into my assimilation. For as a cheeky patient of mine once put it, "karma has a way of coming back around and biting you in the butt." As I said, one must begin back at the bottom, so it takes a while to even recover one's humanness and to "break even" in this life. After that, you're playing with "house money," and things get easier. Now I've got a big pile of chips to play with, and I can't see myself running out in this laughtime. Ho!

My recognition that life is not a Darwinian low way but a spiritual highway is memorialized on page 87, where it is written,

"But then something altogether surprising happened. From our vantage point outside time, we now see that the boundary of life did not end with its own little precarious little dance along the precipice of non-being. Rather, we see that life was bound by two infinite frontiers, one side down and back into dark death and obscure material dissolution, the other side up and beyond, into more subtle regions of Mind and Spirit. Crossing that radiant upper threshold we are witness to...

Turning the page.... turning another page....

Boo!!!

It is a little spooky when you think about it, isn't it? Do you want to know why I put that "boo" in there? I was thinking of a comedy routine by Richard Pryor, who was talking about "the very first mother f*cker who looked around and said What the F*CK is going on?!!!"

In other words, it is meant to immortalize that very first cosmic experience of (?!), because obviously there had to be a first time, just as there had to be the first time that the material world wrapped around itself and bound up time and space within a centralizing metabolism we call "life." The sacred What the F*CK is going on?!!! is re-enacted by Raccoons from all over the world every March Forth, as soon as we "open our eyes" in the "morning," innocently view creation like a newborn Adam in paradise, and, like our ancestral furbear, blurt the words in wide-eyed astoneagement:

What the F*CK is going on?!!!

For surely, the Raccoon knows that this is not a rhetorical question, much less a "vulgar" one. Indeed, the past 1,004 posts have been the ongoing attempt to answer that eternal question which I ask mysoph each morning.