Posts Tagged ‘God’

You guys out there from other places need to understand Thanksgiving. It’s when family you haven’t seen for ages and friends you only rarely see gather around a bountiful table and FEAST…after a heartfelt prayer. Lately, my Mom has been ailing, so I decided my lady and I should cook dinner for her…and it’s ALMOST done.
The only thing left to do is THE TURKEY; I mean…you GOTTA DO IT. Thanksgiving without a turkey is just another big meal. We made dirty rice, green bean casserole, and oyster dressing…not so easy these days since the oil spill…not so cheap either.  Everybody wanted candied yams, which I don’t PARTICULARLY enjoy but made anyway…along with broccoli and cauliflower au gratin, and pecan pie.  To make the yams more interesting, I soaked the raisins in dark rum.  They’re wonderful, but the yams are…you know…YAMS.
Tomorrow morning in the wee hours when my lady is fast asleep at my side and Angel pretty much the same at my feet, I gotta get up, wrap in a heavy robe, season a HUMONGOUS bird, and throw it into the oven. Then…I ASSURE you…I plan to crawl back into my spot, kick the electric blanket up to 3 or 4, and float away into dreams. I mean…WHY NOT? We got all kinds of stuff like smoke and fire alarms…and one neighbor who gets up BEFORE the glint of dawn. The house won’t burn down…not with Angel and that neighbor on the watch.
I figure it’ll take about four hours to do the deed, so that should make it ALMOST DONE when I finally wake up again…but I tucked in an ESCAPE CLAUSE. I’m sort of braising it…always tender, always JUICY, so even if I sleep a little longer than I wanted to it should be just about right. Then all I have to do is take the bird out, let it rest and make giblet gravy. To tell the truth, I use those little gravy packets you find at the supermarket and use pan drippings for the liquid.  Purists may object, but what the hell…it’s DELICIOUS!
So…whatever you’re doing, wherever you are, even if you’ve never had a Thanksgiving, I want to wish you a happy one.  Things are kind of puny in this country lately, but life is short and troubles of one sort or another will be with us forever.  Our Creator is always up there in majesty and love…and He should be thanked, even when things get dicey…and we, at least, always make it a particular point to do so in late November.  So…HAPPY THANKSGIVING, Guys…and pray my turkey turns out okay.  At least, I KNOW the cranberry sauce is good.  I tasted it…the oyster dressing, too!  Now…where did I put my electric knife?

***SPOILER ALERT*** Athiests, I suggest you click away…NOW! Go play a game or something.
My lady told me NEVER to write anything like this. She’s timid about the internet; you know, eyes everywhere reading what I’ve written, but what the hell…I LOVE a good fight…so here goes. I believe in God even though these days it’s not fashionable, but as you might guess if you’ve been reading this blog, I’ve NEVER been a slave to fashion. Anyway…when I was practicing medicine, I saw far too much I couldn’t really explain away…old men and women with no possible way to keep on living who told me they were waiting for specific members of their family to arrive, and when they came, the patient kissed them, said goodbye, and died.
How on Earth can ANYBODY do something like that? Those people were spent, used up, FINISHED, but somehow they hung on. Not only that…they KNEW they would hang on. I also remember one particularly traumatic night in the emergency room when I was trying to help a man in heart failure after a massive heart attack. He, too, was used up, and while I issued a stream of orders, he lay there, incredibly peacefully, until at last he said, “Yes, Lord, I’m ready!” Then looking up at the ceiling, he died. We all looked up there, too, but all we saw was acoustic tile and surgical lights.
Even though it’s really spooky, I’ve come to understand there are more things going on in our reality than ANYBODY could ever explain, influences we don’t know understand or appreciate, even miracles…take ESP, for instance. I know after this a lot of you are going to say, “That’s it! He’s gotta be nuts!” A predictable response…and you have a right to your opinion. My personal insanity is not outside the realm of possibility, but I promised myself I would always be honest with you guys, even when it makes me look a little wierd. One scary night I had an unexplainable experience, something that has mystified me ever since. I’ve written about it before, but it was a BIGGIE for me. It happened during hurricane season.
For weeks people had been talking about a tropical depression in the gulf, and of course, we stayed glued to the weather news on TV. One morning when I was driving to work, the news guy said, “Well, it’s not a depression any more; now it’s a hurricane…and it’s name is CARMEN,” and when he said the name, it was like a flashbulb went off in my mind. After kind of a white blur, I saw myself lying on the sofa in the parlor, my dog at my side, playing with an old transistor radio I hadn’t seen for years. To tell the truth, I was POSITIVE it had been lost forever somewhere along the line, but there it was, so clear, so precise…almost like a photograph.
About five the next morning, we were awakened by incredibly forceful wind blowing outside our window. Now, our bedroom is way at the back of the house, perilously close to two massive old oaks, and when I heard the wind screeching and the oaks groaning, I told my lady it was dangerous where we were and we should move to the guest bedroom in front…as far as we could get from those complaining trees. After we had settled in, I slept a little, but soon awakened. It was getting light, and I wanted to see what was going on, so I took a pillow, moved to the parlor, and stretched out on the sofa next to a large window, my dog following me.
The storm was violent, and while I was watching its fury, my lady got up, came in, and said, “See if you can find out anything with this,” handing me that old radio I didn’t know we had any more. She even brought me a battery, and while I was searching, trying to find an active station, I realized. “This is what I saw…EXACTLY!” I told you it was spooky. “Where the hell did you get THIS?” I asked. “It was In the bedside table drawer,” she answered. “There’s a lot of old stuff in there. Does it still work?”
What was that all about? I wish I had wriiten it all down before it came to be, but of couse, I brushed it off at the time. The whole experience was too precise, much too accurate to wish away, and it showed me how things are happening all around us all the time, unexplainable things I’ve learned to accept and cherish…just like the presence and promise of God. Wasn’t it Shakespeare speaking through Hamlet, who said, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy?” Cool guy, Shakespeare…and one SPECTACULAR writer. As usual, he was right.

Either God exists or he doesn’t. Let’s look at the black side first. If He doesn’t exist, where did all THIS come from? Cosmologists say the big bang most likely occurred when one universe bumped up against the edge of another reality and spawned a new one, us, but where did those OTHER bumping universes come from? Always there…without ANY beginning…just always there? And NOBODY created that other place? JUST ALWAYS THERE? And you think THAT makes more sense than a Creator? Give me a break!
Whichever way you look at it, neither idea makes sense. Either there are a lot of universes bumping into one another, creating new ones, eternally, without beginning or end, or a Being made the whole thing, also eternal, without beginning or end. Get used to the idea. SOMEBODY or SOMETHING has always been here…eternally…without beginning or end, but we just can’t wrap our minds around that sort of puzzle. We’re too finite, too clothed in personal experience to get beyond what we can see and feel and remember. Personally, I think it’s all part of TIME, the illusion we’re locked within. That’s what Einstein called it…and he hasn’t been wrong yet.
They say God’s in the details, so let’s run with it. The incredible thing is our reality exists thanks to the perfect balance of the four fundamental forces of physics. If any one of them were even SLIGHTLY out of whack, none of this would have come into being…none of US, either. Random chaos without purpose would be hard-pressed to come up with so elegant a system, and what about the mathematical certainty and perfection of our galaxy, our solar system, and our planet? Like the best clock ever devised, they move, circling in precisely determined orbits and rotations…so predictable scientists can predict solar eclipses THOUSANDS of years in the future.
You may say, “Okay, so the universe is mathematically perfect…and by the way is and always has been…without creation or end…just there…kind of a mystery for our little minds,” but that’s actually a leap of faith, albeit an egocentric one. How DARE you bumping, eternal universe people make fun of those who believe it was created? They’re making the SAME leap of faith…just in direction you don’t happen to agree with. The fact is we CAN’T figure it out, and maybe we’re not meant to. Maybe each and every one of us is supposed to work it out for ourselves however we can, even fearfully late at night when the bedcovers offer only empty security.
Love is the only emotion not chemically mediated in human beings, perhaps the only thing we can actually create, and once allowed in, it transforms us, growing, enveloping us in the beauty of truth, and changing our lives. You bumping universe preple are living in a really DANGEROUS world because if in fact it’s all random, with no Creator, no Supreme Being, why be good? If there are no consequences, why not be selfish, greedy, cruel…and evil? Most people DON’T because they instinctively understand that good is better than evil and love is more rewarding in the long run. Cruelty and evil just don’t sit well on the shoulders of humanity…while love and kindness fit us like a glove. Sounds a little like God’s wrapped up in all this to me, but that’s only MY opinion.
Sorry, Guys, but I don’t buy the random, eternal, never-created, bumping universe theory. There are just too many potholes in that road. People who believe in God also believe He’s the personification of love, and inherently cherishing that concept, they do what every religious luminary we’ve EVER had says we should. Love one another, do good to one another, help one another, and love God. I have no idea what motivates those random universe, godless people, but to tell you the truth, to me they’re even spookier than that night Carmen hit.
Maybe you doubters are right and I AM crazy…but I gotta tell you. It’s a happy kind of crazy…and isn’t happiness what we’re all looking for in the end? I say, when you find happiness, GRAB HOLD AND HANG ON TO IT! There are enough bad things lurking, waiting to come your way, so treasure whatever goodness you can find while you follow your path…and maybe when it’s all said and done, you’ll find life less painful, possibly even JOYFUL. At least, that’s been my experience. Life’s funny that way; you learn as you slog and trudge along…if you’re paying attention.
I sincerely hope the athiests have given up on this post by now. If not, I’m gonna get a lot of comments from them. Athiests can be REAL pests when you rile them up, almost as bad as mosquitos and horseflies…and just about as relevant in MY opinion.

Like most of the people I know, I watched the trial of Casey Anthony with a mixture of horror and fascination. Of course, she was acquitted of all the major charges, based…as I understand it…on the lack of cold, hard evidence, and I tend to agree. The prosecution failed to prove a crime had been committed, but I haven’t been able to shed the raw, empty feeling that somehow, something went WRONG here.
People are quickly making signs and pouring into Orlando to voice their objection, and when interviewed, they always say, “We want JUSTICE for Caylee.” I think we all do, just like I sometimes think the prosecution may have been so blinded by their desire to punish Casey they tended to overlook the fact that they were also our only hope of justice for a sweet little dead child. Maybe they DID reach too far. Maybe less than Murder 1 would have found more success.
Now, they’re celebrities, the attorneys…on BOTH SIDES, racing from one TV show to another…which I see as inevitable…part of the messy aftermath built into high-profile, media-enhanced trials like this, but somehow like a lot of people, I still feel like something TERRIBLE has gone unaddressed, something evil or possibly even insane. It’s that WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED part I find so slippery, so hard to keep a grip on…or to wrap my mind around.
A child died, and we don’t know why, or how, or even whether it was intentional or accidental…I’m pretty sure it wasn’t suicide…but instead of treating her with love and respect, her little body was thrown into a swamp as food for scavengers. We do know WHEN she died…a month before ANYBODY brought in the authorities, and that point causes me the most discomfort. That “Bella Vita” lady was computer-savvy, and it wouldn’t be too hard to Google the internet and find out how long it might take for a decomposing body to lose ANY traceable path…particularly back to her.
And that’s another point I find confusing. I know on TV they keep saying CSI is fantasy…no REAL case is that neat or conclusive, but archaeologists were able to pinpoint the EXACT circumstances and nature of Tutankhamun’s death…THREE THOUSAND YEARS AGO. And they’re saying thirty days erased EVERYTHING? EVERYTHING? I find that a little hard to swallow. Maybe they should have had an archaeologist on their forensic staff, but they didn’t…so we have to examine the BEHAVIOR of those closest to the little girl when she died.
Who the hell sits on a dead child for a month…and WHY? Who the hell wraps it in plastic and dumps it into a swamp instead of notifying the authorities and calling a funeral home…and WHY? What the hell was going on? That WHY thing keeps getting in the way because it sure looks to me like SOMEBODY was working like hell on some sort of plan, and sure as hell, like that same somebody was trying to COVER something up. Notice how many times I used the word HELL? It’s my clumsy attempt at subliminal imprinting…because I believe that’s where this twisted sort of behavior oozes from. It sounds SO like him, God’s eternal adversary.
Satan be damned; let us crawl toward truth. To deny the validity of the verdict is also to deny the rule of law, our only REAL protection. We can’t jettison the best we have simply because we don’t agree with it, even though THIS TIME it left us with that awful feeling. That should be…and has been made stridently clear. We don’t like the way it all went down, but we ACCEPT it because we’re civilized and live in a country governed by law rather than morality, evil’s edge. Morality has given us the Spanish Inquisition, innocents at the stake, and the Salem witch trials; personally, I’ll take LAW anyday.
Face it; we’ll NEVER know what really happened. Who’s going to tell us? The mother who was convicted on four counts of lying? The parents who are either as much in the dark as we, or torn between the tragic choice of siding with their daughter or their granddaughter? No, this one’s going to remain a mystery, but don’t worry; there’ll be lots of theories…and even more conspiracy-buff and tell-all books to keep it alive in our collective memory forever.
The way I see it, civilization is layered. Up top, things are bright, clean, and shiny…and any minute a cartoon bluebird wrapped in melody might land on your shoulder. A delightful illusion, but moving deeper, things get darker…and murkier…and far harder to understand, and at the bottom, the darkest part where civilization’s underbelly rips apart over nothingness, we find the least comfort and reassurance…because there be demons…and insanity…and evil…and death…oh, yes, and lawers. Lawyers seem to THRIVE in that void, take to it like ducks to water, even though it’s COMPLETELY alien to the rest of us. I’ve never understood that difference.
The little girl didn’t just get up one morning and decide to die. Something or somebody killed her, and whoever knows what went down isn’t ABOUT to tell us, which leaves the rest of us tormented, confused, outraged, powerless…and increasingly ANGRY. I understand that anger because I feel it, too, and HATE the thought that I can do nothing to change what happened, what’s going on, or what’s likely to happen from here. We bluebird people, it turns out, while good, noble, and loving, aren’t really up to the challenge of facing true evil, DEMONIC evil. We live happily and quietly most of the time and when we confront it, haven’t the slightest idea what we should ACTUALLY do.
It’s incredibly frustrating, but to tell the truth, I don’t believe we can do ANYTHING. It’s gone much too far beyond our capacity to modify. I don’t know what the rest of you are thinking, but I’ve decided the only course I have left is to leave it to God. He’s good at this sort of thing, and I trust Him, always have…my Rock when my back is up against the wall. Who knows what else might be in that blackness? Evil, certainly…and insanity, and peversion, and manipulative court procedure, and lawyers, and sociopathic thinking, and irresponsible press, and all the rest of Pandora’s foul escapees.
It’s dangerous down there where the belly meets the void, no place for normal human beings with feelings…and fears, and personally, I believe God is the only one who can really deal with it, far better at battling demons than I could EVER be. So, I’ve decided to leave it to Him. He’ll know what to do…and while He’s working all this out, I’m planning to get on with the rest of my life. As a Christian, that thought gives me comfort, but I feel sorry for the athiests out there. I guess they’ll just have to stay pissed…and make signs…and yell forever. I think my way’s better.

Baxter

Angel has a buddy, but just now it looks like she considers him a curse…endlessly chasing her and occasionally clamping onto her tail. Of course, he’s adorable; all Shih Tzus are, but you got to get through the “puppy stage” before you really understand what you have on your hands…the chewy, obnoxious, hypomanic, “I’m the boss” stage.
We got him a “Babble Ball”, and he loved it…until he lost it SOMEWHERE in the house; we STILL haven’t found it. In desperation, I got a couple more off the internet, and sure enough, he’s losing them, too…but not as successfully this time. He’s easy to forgive. Four months old, he somehow makes his wishes known. Yesterday when I was reading the paper, my morning ritual with a cold Starbuck’s Frappuccino…it’s HOT here…okay?…I felt a gentle tap on my leg and discovered him sitting there wagging his tail, begging me to take him up into my lap.
Actually, that’s usually Angel’s spot, but I took him up anyway, and you know what? She didn’t seem to mind. Angel’s six now and lost her ovaries YEARS ago, but somehow pack memories have kicked in. She tolerates him, even enjoys playing with him until at last she decides she’s had enough…and escapes to the computer room, my ultimate sanctuary, my man-space, my testosterone haven…inaccessible to Baxter.
Whenever he can slip past the obstacles we put up to keep him out, he always goes to the mirror. We have a kind of dark hall leading to the computer room, so we decided to put in a floor-to-ceiling mirror to light things up…and it has. But it turns out Baxter thinks there’s another little dog trapped in there behind the glass. Whenever he sneaks in, he always runs to it, tail wagging, trying to reassure his imprisoned little friend he isn’t alone.
This all started when we tried to help my cousin buy a dog. She got a beautiful one from a breeder, Boudreaux, a gorgeous Shih Tzu, but my lady sort of fell in love with the alternate brought along to allow a choice. I urged her to buy him at the time, but she…of course…had to think about it, and when she decided, the other little black-faced dog had already been sold.
She was devastated, but the breeder said she had another dog, somewhat smaller but with the same coloring…and a LITTLE more active. LITTLE? She had to be kidding. He’s a one-dog hurricane! Right now we have AT LEAST ten toys in the den, the legacy of past dogs but all of them now Baxter’s and fiercely defended. Angel doesn’t seem to mind; she gave up playing with toys a long time ago, and nowadays much prefers our quiet walks in the evening.

After a Hard Afternoon's Play

She knows he’ll calm down someday, but to tell the truth, when it happens, I’m going to miss that little tornado. OH , MY GOD! My lady just brought him into Angel’s and my PRIVATE sanctuary. Just now she’s desperately trying to get him out, but he’s resisting, equally desperately…like any good Shih Tzu would. It may take me a while to reassure Angel, but to tell the truth, she seems much more amused than threatened. I TOLD you Angel was a cool dog!
Love is rare in this world…and diminishing by the second, and personally, I believe GOD sent us dogs to show us just how we should do it, a few growls, occasional bared teeth, then warm cuddles and sloppy kisses…love from a dog’s perspective. I feel sorry for people who don’t believe in God; they’re missing a lot. They probably don’t believe in dogs either.

Don't worry, Little Buddy, I'll get you out somehow.

I read a piece in a scholarly journal the other day, offering  the concept that EVERYTHING is genetic and predetermined: love, kindness, faith, intuition, even hope. Sound familiar? Let it all go…WE’RE MACHINES…no longer responsible, no longer bound by higher law…or anything like personal responsiblilty. To me, it seems like they actually believe it, that all life and existance is automatic, all mistakes understandable, everything locked into a genetic spiral beyond our control. NOBODY IS GUILTY OF ANYTHING. Like I said…sound familiar?
Without guilt, there can be no reward for being good, and without goodness, there can be no God. And THAT’S their goal; destroy the concept of Divinity. These are some really screwed-up people. I can’t help wondering what about God scares them so much, but I think I’m beginning to understand. God messes up their egocentric concept. If there really is a God, He’s bigger, smarter, more powerful and BETTER than we can ever be. Most of us are comfortable with the idea, but not THEM. They can’t allow for any being superior to themselves; it’s too scary that way.  You know, if He’s REAL, they could have ticked Him off, and biblically at least, He can do BOATLOADS if He decides to retaliate.
I think they’re driven by the “dumbing down” principle; if you happen to be dumb, you can’t gain advantage until everybody else is DUMBER than you are, so of course, in your system you naturally come to dumb conclusions. What else would you expect from such perverted concepts?  The last time the planet heard those ideas, they were packaged in propaganda from the Nazi Third Reich.  For the record, Guys, people are not programmed biological devices.  We’re HUMAN BEINGS, unique creatures of flesh, blood, hopes, fears, doubts, choices, and UNLIMITED potential; I think that’s the part those people hate most…potential. It suggests INTELLIGENCE…which they fear…because it pushes them even farther down…where they belong…in my opinion.  Humanity has come too far along the curve of evolution and history to accept anything so demeaning and dangerous.
When you try to explain motivations and actions, you have to be careful not to lose perspective.  Emerson said, “We MURDER to dissect,” and he was right. Tease experience apart and you wind up empty, lonely, confused, and unfulfilled. It’s like a symphony; don’t concentrate on the notes…lose yourself in the wonder of the music, and abandoning the quest for cosmic truth at this point…for my lady and me at least…that music is a fluffy, endlessly active little being with equally active little teeth…and attitude.
I can’t imagine what those benighted people would think about a little dog. If WE’RE machines, he’s probably a slug to them, or maybe more like a wind-up toy, but they’re wrong; even HE has potential. I’ve seen it too many times, and lying just beside my chair is the best example I can think of…Angel. Intelligent, clever, and ENORMOUSLY empathetic, she chooses to put most of it on her back burner, instead concentrating on devotion. She knows when I’m troubled, like when my friend died recently, when I’m tired, or even when I’m hungry.
Another thing…she accepts the concept of responsibility, even though neither SHE nor WE are supposed to possess that quality according to the article. She knows what we expect from her and for years now hasn’t ONCE disappointed us; it’s exactly the opposite. She does MORE than we expect, and she doesn’t do it for praise; she does it because she KNOWS what she has to do for the people she loves. I think those article guys should get a dog…might straighten them out a little.
I know in time Baxter will settle down and be more like Angel, obedient, thoughtful, and loving, but just now I’m having a ball watching a new personality evolve….even if it’s only in a canine and an occasional pain in the ass for Angel. You MECHANICS have fun…if you know how to…if it’s part of your predetermination theory, I mean, but the world is FAR more wonderful than you could possibly imagine. Hope and joy come in many unlikely and unexpected forms…but you don’t look for joy, do you? You look for equations, numbers, and statistical analysis…ANYTHING to support your conceits.
You smug idiots; you’ve missed the whole point of being alive! I know you don’t want God to exist…like you could possibly change cosmic reality. He doesn’t fit your analyses, but believe me, He EXISTS! I was a physician FAR too long to believe otherwise, saw far too many things I couldn’t explain any other way. The funny thing is He seems to love you anyhow, and you should give THAT a little thought. Love is rare, and Divine love is special. I know that, and I’m pretty sure our dogs know it, too. It’s YOU GUYS who are on the outside looking in…tent pissers…all of you.
It’s a waste of time to fight the stupidity principle…anyway, I don’t want to.  I have far more enjoyable things to do…like walking Angel when the light starts dimming, sitting with her watching the stars slowly pop out, then coming in to enjoy a little whirlwind called Baxter before I finally surrender consciousness and go to sleep…with my dog lying on the floor beneath my head. We know who we are, what we want, and what it all MEANS.  Your concept is just plain silly, and I feel sorry for you.  You’re missing so much of the human experience.

Last week my lady and I went to the Star Wars exhibit at our local science museum, and it was a kick, really fun, looking at all the models and costumes they had actually used and realizing how big Chubacca and Darth Vader actually were and how slight Han Solo seemed to be in comparison…but by far the most interesting thing we did was to take a trip in the Millenium Falcon…simulated, of course. We sat in a re-creation of Han’s cockpit and soared into the absolute blackness of space, through the solar system, then out into space beyond, but the most spectacular thing I saw was our galaxy from above, beautifully rendered, with millions of other galaxies in the faint distance, the way I’ve always dreamed of seeing it. Even artfully manufactured in some special effects, high-tech lab in California, it was more satisfying than I could ever have imagined…mostly because fulfilled a life-long dream and in the process, made me think about something I hadn’t for quite a while.
There’s NO WAY we could be all alone in our plane of existance; it’s just too improbable. I know I write science fiction, which ALWAYS has a couple of aliens running around, but to tell you the truth, my brand of sci-fi mostly focuses on this planet and what we have here…and often fail to appreciate. More often than not, MY aliens teach us something, even if it’s what NOT to do or how NOT to be…but sometimes they surprise even me and show how we can be better.
The other day I read a piece tolling the death knell for religion on Earth if aliens were actually discovered…a STATISTICAL probability, though these days even the Catholic Church acknowledges it, slowly swinging around. The Church does EVERYTHING slowly, but I don’t really see how finding intelligent life anywhere should drastically change our concept of the Supreme Being. I don’t know about yours, but MY God is infinite. Dealing with more than one bunch of sentient beings in the universe, even millions of them, would be child’s play the way I see HIM.
Christians have tied their belief system to Jesus, as have I, but we part company pretty quickly when they start telling me His coming means we’re somehow unique, the only ones in the entire universe. Who says? They probably haven’t considered it, but maybe we were so screwed up we needed special attention…and THAT’S why He was born. We were drifting too far off course, so Providence sent help to steer us into a midcourse correction. You non-Christians can use the same reasoning for YOUR luminaries. It works every which way.

As I see it, I’ll bet there are lots of other sentient beings up there in our starry swirl, and God knows how many in all those other fuzzy swirls too far away for us to ever reach or learn from. I’m even willing to bet there are some beings who haven’t required Divine intervention.  Now, THOSE are the guys I’d really like to meet! It’s funny, because I wrote just such an alien into Dawn on Earth; I just didn’t realize it at the time. Life is a learning process…at least, mine is.
I was trying to show what I consider an ideal being, the likely product of a civilization and society on the right track from the beginning, someone who abhors violence, cherishes God, and lives a life of gentle love and the endless hope of helping others. Interestingly, in Dawn he changed after he was stranded on Earth and came to see the need for violence at times, and I for one didn’t really realize what was happening to him.
On a new planet threatened by rapacious intruders, he accepted our aggressive philosophy and DEFENDED those beings he had come to love, and maybe that’s what might actually happen when interstellar visitors confront others who don’t share their life concept. I, for one, sure as hell hope so. My innocent and pure alien decided violence in the defense of those you love is an absolute good, but while I agree with him, it’s the possibility of INTERACTIONAL change I find most interesting, change working both ways.
I feel sorry for Gamma, my perfect alien. He abandoned a pure and wonderful philosophy because he was stranded on a new and disturbingly violent world, but…you know…I think he gained something, too. He learned to identify EVIL, which he could never have known in his idyllic world, and he responded the way I hope we all would; he HATED it. In a way, it completed his education as a sentient being, but that’s just how it worked out for my buddy, Gamma.
Those creatures you dream up banging away at the computer sometimes surprise you…actually, a lot of the time. They sort of take on a life of their own while you watch, and if you’re smart, enjoy what’s going on. Gamma grew from my thoughts about the nature of goodness and went the only way he could when challenged, and I forgive him the choices he made, just like I hope SOMEBODY forgives me for some of the really dumb-ass choices I’ve made. Knowing Gamma, I’m sure he does, but the rest of you have to decide for yourselves…if you EVER read my book.
Actually, Defending Hope is the subtitle Dawn on Earth carries, and I MEANT it to be that way. Hope is the only thing we can hold onto when we tread uncertainly into frightening and potentially forbidding new experiences, but what I REALLY worry about is…what if the visitors are NOT like Gamma? What if hope is inappropriate? What if they’re really TERRIBLE assholes? Are we ready for them? I gotta say…not right now, but until they actually show up, my thoughts will remain only the stuff of FICTION.
We’re confidently comfortable and happy here on our perfect, beautiful blue planet, protected by the conceit of unbelievable distance way out on one spindly arm of our whorl, but what if it’s really self-delusion? WHAT IF THEY ACTUALLY COME? What will we do? What will our governments do…more importantly, what will THEY do? You know, when threatened, ostriches believe they can hide from danger, and they always give it a shot. I like ostriches. They’re beautiful, innocent, and hopeful creatures…but the lions almost always get them in the end.

The Afternoon Angel Came

Sometimes I wonder what’s ricocheting around inside Angel’s head. Most of the time it’s obvious, particularly when people are milling around just outside our fence; she HATES that. It’s really sort of funny. We have a cedar fence and she’s found the few open knotholes through which she can watch with one eye, growling all the while.
We have cats in the back yard, too. My lady loves them, but I’m not really CRAZY about cats personally. Sorry, but I gotta stop right now. While I was working on the blog, my lady walked in with Angel and told me it was MY TURN. It seems Angel insisted they play in the den and both of them are kind of tuckered. “Here,” she said, “Go play with Daddy!” but she doesn’t realize what an honor that was. Angel doesn’t play with just anybody.
Now, I know I’m not REALLY her daddy; I mean, WHO could possibly be confused? I’m not nearly furry enough, but Angel chooses to ignore that distinction, jumping into my lap while I’m at the computer and covering me with wet, slobbery kisses. Dogs never have understood the subtle nature of a real kiss, but both of us know what she’s thinking.
A lot of the time she’s either protecting me or playing, particularly when she brings me her favorite chew-toy and keeps hitting my leg with it, and sometimes…just for fun…I pick her up and walk outside with her in my arms. A kind of beatific look fans across her face, and I can just hear her thinking, “I’M HUGE! Look how far I can see!” She can be hilarious at times.
Dogs are simple…but not dumb. I know there are ancient echoes of life in the pack inside that endlessly active little head of hers, but when dogs collectively decided to trade us for a life foraging out in the wild, it wasn’t just convenient. It was something else. Over countless eons they figured out how to plug into our most essential values…like love, and when they’ve decided WHO they love, look out. It’s Katie bar the door.
I have no doubt whatsoever in my mind Angel loves me. With her sleeping quietly up on the edge of my bed at night…as she always does, I know…and I know she knows. When I’m sad or upset, she senses it, and nobody on Earth could ever hope for a more compassionate friend. When I’m happy, she’s ready to go…and do absolutely anything, usually at full blast and smiling every second.
Of course, at any moment, I can bring her back into the pack with a soft growl. I’m kind of proud of mine, gutteral, way back in the throat. My lady hates it, but that’s not the reason I don’t use it. Instead of frightening her, she gets embarrassed and sentences me to hours of pitiful, submissive apology, and I just don’t know how to tell her I’m not NEARLY as interested in her carefully protected underbelly as some wolf leader seems to have been millennia ago.
For DAYS afterward, she’s scrupulously obedient and deferential, but that’s not what I’m looking for. I want company and the unchallenged friendship of an equal…yes, an equal…a fellow creature on our rock who has decided to share her life with mine…or my lady’s sometimes when I’m busy, but I know how my lady really feels about all this. She lost it…and gave it away one terrible night in Texas.
After Rita, we went there to check on her father. He lived near the coast, and when we arrived, we found incredible destruction all through the area. At that time, my dog was Weetful, and when we left for Texas, she seemed completely normal. But it turned out she wasn’t. In the middle of the night she got into distress, and when we took her to an emergency veterinary hospital, they told us it was hopeless. She was in heart failure.

Weetful...Before She Got Completely Black

Now, Weetful was really old for a dog, and I told them to put her down. I thought that was what she would want, and after they did it, I walked sadly to the reception area and my lady, who I thought had a less than perfect relationship with poor Weetful. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Babe,” I answered. “Weetful’s gone. We had to put her down. She was in heart failure and they couldn’t save her.”
I’ve never heard a wail like that as she dissolved in sobs and tears, and I hope NEVER to hear it again. I thought she had only tolerated Weetful, but her grief was much too real…too elemental…SHE LOVED HER! I bet Weetful knew it, too…dogs are like that, but I, as usual, was pretty much in the dark about it all. When had they bonded? More importantly, WHY had they bonded? What the hell was going on when I wasn’t around?
The house was very lonely after that…and kind of empty. After a couple of months I told my lady I wanted another dog, and she didn’t object, though it felt like she considered it a sort of treason. To her, Weetful had become a canine saint, and while I understood, I missed having a dog around down here on Earth…and all those happy, slobbery kisses.
She didn’t come with me when I went to look for a new dog and I had no idea what I wanted when I left, but you know, God sometimes takes care of things for you when you least expect it. When I walked into the kennel, I saw a puppy much like Weetful, but what interested me most was the way she was working her little arm around, trying to unlock her cage.
When I held her in my arms, she looked up at me, and I saw a kind of glow. Snow white with big, brown eyes, I could see it in there…love…okay, maybe opportunism. I know dogs are crafty manipulators, but I quickly discovered how wrong I was to doubt that tiny little dog. And you know what? My lady saw through it, too…almost immediately!
“What are you going to name her?” she asked while she cuddled the puppy in her arms…and it was hard to ignore…she looked so much like Weetful. Okay…Weetful was mostly jet black and this dog was snow white…with a pink face, but allowing for the difference, she could easily have been an aberrant clone. It’s hard to work out genitics, but I knew one thing. I loved her and she loved me…and my lady was right in there with us.
“Angel,” I answered. “To me, it feels like Weetful sent her to us.” Now, I know a lot of people say all dogs go to heaven, but I think they got it wrong. All dogs COME from heaven. I think God knows we humans need unconditional love sometimes, so he sends us dogs to fill the void.
And, like God, Angel loves us…BOTH of us…selflessly, endlessly, tirelessly, but you know, it feels most real when she’s sleeping confidently at the foot of our bed. Yes, sometimes in the middle of the night she shifts position or scratches around a little and wakes me up, but I don’t care. She loves us, and we love her. Everything else is irrelevant, even the pack echoes from times NEITHER of us has ever experienced.
I gotta thank you, God, for thinking of something like this. You did good. Dogs are cool…and we need them. I know that now. They make our lives even better, but I think You always knew they would. Thanks again, but right now I gotta go play with my dog…she’s hitting my leg with that little blue hippo she loves so much. “Okay, Angel…FETCH!”

Dawn on Indian Creek Lake

I fell in love with astronomy when I was only a kid, about ten or eleven I think, and I saved my money from odd jobs until I had enough to buy a five-inch reflector telescope. It wasn’t much by modern standards, with a brittle bakelite body and a small starfinder scope that never really worked, but I loved it…and the hours of enjoyment it provided. Because I never had enough money to buy a sidereal mount, I had to search for stellar objects in an enlarging spiral then try to track them while they tried equally hard to glide away from my telescope’s little mirror.
I remember so many nights up there on an unused outdoor stairway, the highest place I could find, breathlessly discovering, endlessly asking myself questions I’ve carried with me ever since. I remember the first time I saw the Andromeda Galaxy…billions of stars, and not all that far away, but when I turned the telescope to a field of galaxies, I was stunned. There were billions of those, too! That’s heavy stuff for an eleven-year-old.
One night, a friend joined me at the top of the stairs. He seemed really interested, and while I was trying to find something to show him, the sky suddenly glowed brilliant bluish-white. I even heard a sizzling sound coming from above. “It’s a nuclear attack!” he yelled. “No! It’s a meteor…a HUGE METEOR!” I answered. We watched it streak across the sky, finally breaking up and tumbling as glowing orange embers into the gulf far to the south.
Living in town, constantly fighting unwanted light, I tried hard to get into the darkest corners I could find, but there was always a sort of fuzzy haze in the air. It made the soft glow of the Milky Way majestic and friendly, but once when I was visiting in rural Texas, it showed a very different side. On an exceptionally clear, moonless night, I went outside to see my old friend and was startled by what I saw. The Milky Way seemed closer there, almost threatening.
I could see brilliant stars, but instead of soft, bright clouds, hard-edged masses…millions of small points of light. It seemed as if my hand would be burned by nuclear furnaces if I reached up even a few feet, poised as the sky was that night, ready to crash down and envelop me. It was too immediate, too detailed…too immense. I was seeing it the way the ancients had, and it was a little scary…small wonder they found gods clothed in those masses of dust, gas, and unchanging light.
In that moment of epiphany I learned our real address, not on Earth but in the company of stars…near the edge of a gigantic galaxy. A lovely place to be, it allows us to see almost the entire sweep we’re part of, even if it is a little lonely. Closer in, say where the stars are tightly clustered together, we’d have a better chance of discovering we’re not alone, but we’d lose a lot, like the beauty of the Milky Way as we see it and our black nights…not to mention the fact that we’d be a lot closer to an immense black hole.
The one celestial phenomenon I could never spot was a comet. I poured over pictures and drawings of them, with their fuzzy, bright tails, some visible across the entire night sky, but I wanted to see the real thing. Sometimes, comets were described on the news, but I could never find them. I went to the darkest places I knew, but they were never far enough from security lighting and street lamps. It turned out comets were kind of hard to see in the modern world…but then Hale-Bopp came along.
I went camping just to see it…and took my canoe. For a week, every night I slid into Indian Creek Lake and paddled out to the middle to see the marvel in the western sky, photographing it, contemplating, trying to imagine myself in space only a few thousand miles from it. I thought it was pretty, but I wasn’t as impressed as I expected…I guess that humongus meteor had jaded me a little. A fuzzy glowing object in almost the same place night after night was no match for the sizzling, massively glowing, beastly thing my friend thought was a Russian attack.
These days I don’t do as much stargazing. I’ve seen just about everything any telescope I could afford would show, and now we have the West Nile Virus to worry about. I tried once, smothered in repellent, but mosquitoes joyfully attacked me in droves. I kept waiting for the headache and blurred vision, but they never came. Now, I only pop out on clear, moonless winter nights. If I’m lucky, I see the Milky Way almost like I did that night in Texas, and once again its power, extent, and immediacy comes flooding to me in an uneasy tingle.
It’s almost pointless to argue where it all came from. Either way, you come up with an imponderable. If God made it, He is eternal, without beginning or end, as described in the Bible, but we can’t understand that. If He didn’t, it has always been, maybe contracting periodically and Big Banging out again, but eternal. We can’t understand that either. Of course, there’s always the possibility that everything we see and know came into existence out of nothing…with no causal event. Some people actually say that, but to me at least, that one is too silly to try and understand.
As regular readers probably know…or anyone who’s read my book, I vote for God, but I realize every person has to work it out for himself…and in the end, I’ve come to think understanding isn’t really important. Maybe our confusion should only bring us closer to our ancient brothers who studied the night sky…a little fearfully, I suspect, and tried their best to make sense of it just like us, and I hope the gods they saw up there gave them comfort.
Maybe we’re only supposed to look in awe, feel wonder and a little discomfort about how tiny and insignificant we really are. Flying around on a watery rock tethered to a dim yellow star, the middle-aged son of an ancient supernova, and out almost at the end of one arm of a massive, starry spiral, we gain perspective only when we look into the night sky…and if you do it right, it’s astonishing. I’m not eleven any more and not nearly as innocent, but it doesn’t matter. I still feel the tingle…I think I always will.