Why the god of the Abrahamic religions just makes no sense.

It’s no secret that I’m no fan of Christianity or Islam for that matter. Most people assume that I must therefore be atheist. This isn’t true.

I do have a very clear concept of god. It’s just that this god of the Abrahamic religion just isn’t a very nice person and doesn’t make much sense. For a start this god is completely arbitrary and has the wonderful excuse of behaving in mysterious ways. Which if we want to be completely logical about it means his god will do whatever the fuck they want to when it suits them. And if things go sideways…well blame it on the one angel who decided to think for themselves and who you kicked out of Heaven for doing so. He also doesn’t like having either his motives or his outcomes questioned.

There is also a complete lack of a sense of humour….well telling three different versions of what the fuck you think and then telling people they are ALL the complete and only true version of what it is you want done….that rates as a practical joke, and a nasty one at that.

Also “Heaven” sounds about as dull as fuck. All those po faced sanctimonious hypocrites who do nothing more than kiss divine anus all fucking day!!!! Makes a man just want to fill whoopy cushions with gravy. Or slip laxatives into the chocolate cake. Me in Heaven!!! I’d give it a week before I either intentionally called some prig a jumped up turd or offered an opinion that wasn’t appreciated.
And then there is the whole "I have a book that says that I'm allowed to be a complete fucking asshat" shit. Well I have a book that explains humanity a shitload better and is nowhere near as usefully vague as either the Koran or the Bible...Nicolo Machiavelli's "The Prince".

So, if “god” doesn’t float my boat and I still have a concept of god, who is it?

At the moment I’m rather keen on the Norse gods. Actually almost every god other than the Abrahamic sociopath floats my boat. But for now, it’s the Asgardian gods who make the most sense. In fact the more I read about them, the more sense they make. I’m also rather keen on the ancient Hellenic gods as well.

Rather than have some humourless sociopath doing whatever the fuck they want, why not have Gods that actually have personalities. Yep, personalities. Gods who get horny or angry. Or drunk. Why not have a God who wants to do nothing more than mess with things? How about a Goddess who has revenge on her husband’s latest fling? Voila!!! I give you Odin, Zeus, Loki and Hera.

These Gods are the reflection of us. (Mind you, the people so keen on the Abrahamic god also seem to be rather humourless sociopaths who need to be threatened with literally endless suffering in order not to go around fucking cats and killing people. NB: to Christians, Muslims & Jews….if you need this sort of threat to keep your true nature under control….you’re a fucking turd who has no respect for anyone or anything.) These Gods have bad days. They crack the sooks. They have kids and spouses who drive them completely nuts. And given the amount of chiton raising and trouser dropping the male Gods get up to…..like us, they like their sex. Which any awake adult reading this would be aware….a good portion of the B&B are kept afloat because of an awful lot of Mr & Mrs Jones wanting a quiet place where they can fuck for a couple of hours. And if I’m reading my ancient religion properly, Odin and Zeus were also the subject of some pretty bossy wives who didn’t take any shit from them.

So if we are to have Gods, why not make them people to which we can relate? Rather than some sociopathic sky fairy with a penchant for tasteless practical jokes? And it’s clear that our ancestors did exactly this. Before the sanctimonious crowd got traction outside the Middle East, people had Gods who mirrored them. Gods who were loud, passionate, lustful and liked a spot of Biffo.

Why would I want to pray to some cunt who sits in Heaven judging people all day? I have an ex-wife, a mother-in-law and a morbidly obese god bothering younger sister who are perfectly capable of judging me and condemning me to Hell (mind you, I do agree with Socrates, all the interesting people are likely to be in Hell)….so why look skywards to that prick, when I could just as easily pray to them?

What I want, and do have, is Gods who get drunk, get into fights and have lives. Maybe Odin doesn’t want to listen to my wish list today because he’s lost a knock-down-drag-out fight with Freya or he’s too busy fucking some human hottie? Maybe it is Loki laughing his arse off over something…..like me being the father of the first set of twins in either family. I can accept that lightning and thunder are the result of physics, but the lightning and thunder are more interesting if Thor happens to be in the clouds above me beating someone shitless with Mjölnir.

And this is why I don’t like the Abrahamic god. He’s nasty, arbitrary and rather dull.

Why I can’t be Fucked even trying to conform to Neurotypical expectations of what I should be.

I’m about to turn 54 in a couple of months. This lifetime is, as lifetimes do, slipping away on me.

So it can’t come as a great surprise that I’m turning pensive, as opposed to petulant when dealing with this slowly evaporating life I have.

Death scares me. It doesn’t scare me as much as it once did, but I still feel a chill when I stop to talk to it. The reason why Death doesn’t scare me as much as it once did is because Death has been deposed in my life. A revolution has happened, and one particular peasant has led Death to the guillotine, so to speak.

So what is it that could depose Death? Which charismatic peasant has roused the masses, fired up the proletariat and stormed the dictators fortress?

The peasant leader that has managed this unusual coup is the fear that I will get to the end of this lifetime and as I lay dying, I will know that I could have lived this lifetime better. The fear that I could have done more is what scares me.

I will NEVER be Neurotypical. My karma is that I am Neurodiverse. My brain stem is wired in a subtle yet different way to yours.

So going back to the fact that I’m about to turn 54, and I have this fear, I am also left with a question: Why should I even attempt to conform to what Neurotypical expectations of what I should be and how I should be living?

So when I’m in the climbing gyms or telling people that I’m training for a 10 km run and a 230 km walk and in two weeks will do my first 100 + km bike ride, do I care that some people (all of which are Neurotypical) think I shouldn’t be doing these things?

Yes, I do.

However my friend the fear comes to my rescue. My friend tells me that the alternative to the morning walk and now run before 6.30, the alternative to the determination to trash 10 000 steps a day, the alternative to taking care in what I eat and drink, the alternative to the decision to go FULL BEAST and climb until I fall off walls or my hands quit (whichever comes first) and the full throated scream as I throw myself into a transformation that has me as a toned, silver haired god as its sole goal, is to be like my brother.

Mark was dead at 60 years, 6 months and two weeks.

I’ll let that just stand there.

I do the math and that age isn’t getting any further away on me.

I say to people: Want to fuck eagles?
Learn to fly.

Because I am an Aspie, because I have never managed to completely hide my Neurodiversity and because this lifetime is evaporating on me. Because I have absolutely no fucking intention of being dead at 60 from suicide by diet as my beloved brother was. Because laying on my death bed and knowing it’s a tad fucking late to screw that 40 year old witless or to walk that 1000 km trail scares me shitless, I can’t be fucked even trying to conform to Neurotypical expectations of what I should be.

Busy

I've just looked at my  post No more Bucket Lists…this one is a Fuck It List.....and where exactly has the last year gone?
Have I achieved: In no particular order:

1    1. Get my BMI-Waist measurement - Weight down to a healthy range.

2.      2. Stay alcohol free.

3.      3. Become physically beautiful. The goal is complete muscle definition with accompanying loss of my belly.

4.      4. Get my arse into Lycra without inflicting trauma on everybody.

5.      5. Climb walls with a rating of 20.

6.      6. Move well beyond the Sun Salutation in Yoga and become a serious student of Pilates and Yoga.

7.      7. Exercise for an hour every day.

8.      8. Become fluent in Indonesian. Will be writing a multilingual edition of the Dhammapada.

9.      9. Cycle from home via the Dingley-Dandenong Bypass-East link and Mullum Creek Trails into the city.

 

       No, I haven't.

Things haven't gone as expected this year.

Positives:

 

     I have gone from Obese to Overweight, so my BMI has dropped. My muscle definition is increased all over my body. I am clearly and increasingly toned. Whilst I'm not physically beautiful and the belly is still there, I am happier with how I look.

Climbing walls beyond 20...I Boulder more these days, so the ratings aren't there. When I do Top Rope, there is a change in my climbing...I'm stronger and technically better.

And there has been no Lycra inflicted trauma. Selina has essentially forbidden me to wear Lyrca EVER!!!

 

     As for the Pilates and Yoga.... Selina and I had a tough time this year. I was out of the house for almost 6 months, but things are certainly mending. My ability to build momentum just died. Having said this, I stretch when I climb, so my flexibility has increased.

My aerobic fitness is better. I'm cycling more and further.

      
My Indonesian IS a lot better. The Masters of Translation I'm doing has been a lot more work than I thought it would be. I've translated over 10 000 words this year. So my fluency has gone up.

Alcohol consumption has dropped. About September I was faced with a choice...I can either drink regularly or exercise...I can't do both. Drinking just kills my stamina and alcohol is a sugar...and sugar is discretionary calories. And as someone who wants to self-identify as an extreme sports nut...I need my stamina. So the choice was made for me and I drink about 3 - 4 times a month. Don't want to get drunk ever again. As I told people: I've never met an endorphin rush I didn't seriously like. I have, however, met plenty of hangovers I have hated. So with booze consumption way down and exercise way up...I've had a win.

I got a new phone in November. Using fitness app to record my exercise. Nice to have a series of maps showing my increasing fitness.

Negatives:
Family has struggled. Selina and I were apart for 6 months.

 

A Question of Body

Above there are photos of different types of physiques that are the result of different exercise regimes. 

I am, as you know, in the midst of a change in my life. I’ve spent seven years in tertiary studies, proven beyond doubt I’m more than just bright. Now I’m pursuing physical goals with the same discipline as I’ve pursued my intellectual goals.

So I’m doing a lot of physical activity. This week alone I’ve climbed for 8 hours, done about 500 lifts of weights (I never lift anything more than 12 kg, I’m about tone, not bulk),  better than an hour of Yoga, cycled for 20 km and played an hour of tennis with my very fit seven year old son. I haven’t managed all that much time on my rowing machine due to wanting to increase my Yoga & Pilates. I’m exercising most days.

With this amount of effort being put in the question has to be asked: What is it I want from the exercise?

 On the understanding that you are engaged or about to engage in a fitness regime this is a question you must ask yourself. Apart from the abundant and quite empirical material that exercise is good for you, why are you doing it? Answering this question will make achieving your goals easier.

My answer to this question is: I want a Yoga bod. My goal isn’t to bulk up. Selina isn’t a fan of the people that Clive James so aptly described as looking like stockings stuffed with walnuts. I’m not a fan of buying either a shitload of expensive and dangerous supplements or a new wardrobe. I want lots of long lean muscles. A Yoga Bod will support my climbing. The aerobic fitness from my tennis, cycling and rowing will get my waist under control. The visceral fat that is keeping my waist over 100 cm…and is slowly killing me has to go. In order to get that vigorous old age I want, the belly has to go and all my exercise supports that.

I expect, not unreasonably, that a very toned me will result in more sex. We make no attempt to hide our extracurricular activities…and the better I look…. I want to be a Disgusting Old Fuck. My version won’t be taking drugs, smoking or drinking heavily. My version will be climbing, cycling, rowing and being a Yogi into my 80’s. 

So I very clearly know what I want from my exercise regime….do you?