Time(1 or so): Frog Blankies -- God Reveals The Seven Laws of the First Axiom of His Theory of Life. (Theory, God? You Aren't Sure?)
Today, Anna is asking herself questions, then answering them in Frog Blankets.
"How is good done?" she asks.
Anna writes her answer: "Good isn't done."
"Where is the best fishing?" she then asks.
"Turn left--"
Wait! Wait, Anna! Good isn't done? Good isn't done??
Anna sighs and expands upon her answer (it's the curse of the self-help author; expanding upon an answer). "Good isn't done because it isn't good until it's done. Setting out to do good is like setting out to become a martyr...you can't until you are. Now, the best fish--"
Wait! Wait! More! Please!
"Oh, all right!" Anna is impatient with us. We should already know this. She writes: "Man, the fly in the ointment of eternity, is the only creature who seeks to justify his existence. Not only his existence, but the existence of all things.
"Man has invented an interesting scheme for justifying his existence. It is called Religion and even those who have no reason to justify themselves practice it...usually just for show.
The most common ritual of Justification is to go into a building every Sunday. A second ritual is to keep it out of government buildings. A third is to refuse to go into a building on Sunday and go, instead, into nature. A fourth ritual is to bomb buildings. There is also the ritual of murdering natives who don't have buildings to go into. These five rituals are collectively known as Building Religion.
"The sixth through tenth Justification rituals are, (6) convert people who have a different Justification than you, (7) tolerate people who have a different Justification than you, (8) hate people who have a different Justification that you, (9) kill people who have a different Justification than you and, (10) do good unto others. As you can see, each Justification ritual is more deadly than the one before it.
"We will only concern ourselves, today, with the Tenth Ritual. Rituals One through Nine are fairly benign, but the Tenth is a societal fire storm. Number Ten involves interfering with other creatures and forcing them to accept what one is about to do unto them. What's more, Number Ten is always done unto those who wouldn't need good done unto them if one hadn't already done something awful unto them.
"Suppose I am ready to do good unto others. Do I search the Social Register for a candidate? Do I call Capitol Hill and try to Adopt-a-Senator? Is there a Save-the-Yuppie Foundation? What about the Rescue-a-Poodle Society? Silly, huh?
"No, I go to those I've already made poor, miserable, nearly extinct, and ticked-off, and say, 'I'm here to save you. Aren't I great?' And, of course, they snarl at me, or say, 'Get the fuck outa here, you overfed, liberal, WASP Asshole!' And, I do, or else they'll tear me a new one. But then, to prove to everybody what a great guy I am, I announce that 'they are so poor, miserable, nearly extinct, or ticked-off that they have lost the ability to relate to society in general. Here's money for them.' And, I write a check, and I have done good, and have satisfied the Tenth Justification Ritual. And the poor, miserable, nearly extinct, and ticked-off going on being poor, miserable, nearly extinct, and ticked-off because...how else are they going to get any money?
"The best good is done by persons with no intentions of doing good; with intentions only of doing something. Could be something selfish and crass. Could be something they were told to do. Could be something they forgot to do and had to stay after school to finish. The Justificationists would have you believe one must intend to do good. Bullbeep! Life makes no such demands upon its creatures.
"But, you argue, Life isn't the only player here. Even if Life doesn't require one to do good--to justify one's existence--civilization does. After all, life would be perfectly content with anarchy, turmoil, and bad breath; but that's no way to run a civilization!
"The short (and therefore, best) answer is; who said civilization was so great? Here's a challenge: Think of one bad thing that hasn't come about as a result of civilization. Think of one!
" 'Ah, hah!' you say. 'But, civilization has done more good than bad! Look how mankind has progressed!'
"Comes the answer: Civilization is responsible for all the bad in the world, but only some of the good. As for Man's progress, there is no evidence that moving from caves into skyscrapers has moved Man up on the scale of goodness. Man is responsible for the extinction of entire species of plants and animals, to say nothing of the extinction of several hundreds of millions of his own kind...all in the name of civilization. NO OTHER CREATURE IS CAPABLE OF SUCH RAMPANT DESTRUCTION OF LIFE! When the cosmos tallies it all up, can Man's puny progress possibly outweigh this colossal destruction of Life?
"The surprising answer is yes! The cosmos loves man's progress! The cosmos doesn't care about murder. The cosmos is indifferent to morality! But, the cosmos is not indifferent to order, and civilization imposes order.
" 'So, the cosmos approves of man?'
"No! The cosmos thinks Man is stupid! Why? Because Man is inefficient! What a dumb way to create order, the cosmos thinks, by the chaotic massacre of one's fellow creatures! Think where they'd be if they'd all worked together! What fools! Get them away from me, the cosmos thinks!
" 'So, the cosmos approves of civilization because it imposes order (even though it also imposes morality, to which the cosmos is indifferent), and it approves of Man's progress, but disapproves of his inefficiency. The cosmos can't make up it's mind? It is ambivalent about Man?'
"Yes, and no."
Anna stops writing. She is sweating. (She hadn't expected to do that when she became an author.) She could use a break, but she doesn't take one. Instead, she turns back to her writing. It's because she feels obligated. Thanks a lot, God, thinks Anna, writing's no fun anymore.
"So, we have a cosmos that is ambivalent about Man, Life that doesn't care what happens to itself, Man, who is apparently obeying some ecumenical impulse to impose order through civilization--
"Wait! Who said that? Who said, 'impose?'
"Not the cosmos!
"Not Life!
"Not me!
"You? Who're you?
"G-O-D!
"God...," Anna writes gratefully, knowing she's nearing the end. "God, who loves Man, approves of order, invented morality, and thinks Life is grand. That God. Let's listen to Him."
"It's so simple, My Children...may I call you 'My Children'? You've been whining for Me to reveal this stuff for centuries, so pay attention. These are the Seven Laws of the First Principle of Life.
"First, there is no need to justify one's existence since one has no choice but to exist. We are; therefore it's okay that we are.
"Secondly, Life can not be destroyed -- but it can change venue. Life is everything and everything has life. Life has no agenda.
"Third, we all coexist with, and within, the cosmos. The cosmos has the only agenda that counts; efficient, orderly existence.
"Fourth, I am the custodian of existence. I gather Life where I find it and, because I understand the cosmos perfectly, guide it toward an appropriate venue. It is a process, not a product.
"Fifth, morality is the map to order. All paths are straight lines. It is not mandatory to follow the paths, but deviation is inefficient, therefore disorderly.
"Sixth, when Eternity ends, order will have prevailed. It need not be imposed, since it is the only agenda.
"Seventh, Eternity will not end.
"That's it, My Kids, except one more thing. Good can only be offered, never done and the best fishing hole in the world is -- find it yerself. I ain't tellin'."