Tag: ramblings

  • Freedom of Speech, etc.

    After seeing a headline in a local community newspaper this afternoon, it suddenly struck me why Muslims, in their current approach, will always be on the defensive when debating issues of freedom of speech or expression. The headline read something like, ‘Freedom of Speech, or Freedom to Blaspheme’. It was that last word that caught my attention.

    You see, when we accuse someone of blasphemy, there seems to be an underlying assumption that they hold dear what we hold dear. Or at the least, they respect what we respect. For this reason, we will forever be mocked by the irreverent few that take much pride and joy in mocking us. Why? I think it’s actually quite simple. We’re so drawn into defending and protecting the rituals of Islam, that we’ve failed dismally to demonstrate beyond any reasonable doubt why we proclaim Islam to be so beautiful, and worthy of respect.

    If I look around and see how entertainers garner respect even by people that do not normally take to such forms of entertainment, I notice that what is usually accompanied by such respect is an appreciation for the effort and skill that goes into that art form that is presented as entertainment. Hardly seems like a worthy comparison considering the mainstream Muslim views on entertainment, but bear with me. Note, I said Muslim views, not Islamic views, which is an inherent part of this problem. We’ve become so obsessed with point-in-time interpretations about what Islam stood for or represented during an era many centuries ago, that we’ve given up the principles that those wise scholars extrapolated their rulings from, and instead turned their guidance into ritualistic observations subscribed to by sects.

    How does this play into the hands of those that criticise Muslims for their supposed intolerance, or as some would like to believe, their bronze-aged-myths? Again, it’s really simple. When you become a ritualist, expect it to lead you down the path towards blind following. When you become a blind follower, it’s inevitable that intolerance will set in when others fail to see the merits of your rituals, especially when you’re incapable of explaining the principles and real-world value from such rituals. And that is the problem with most Muslims. They fail to see this connection. Look at the mobs and the out-of-hand protests that violate the very same principles and direct injunction of the same way of life, including the blessed personality that they profess to be defending and it’s easy to see how lost we are as an Ummah.

    Fortunately there are an increasing number of informed voices of a youth that appear to be inspired by the truth as they experience it, and as they can rationalise it based on a clear understanding and study of the most pristine sources of Islam that are speaking out against this ignorance. There are many difficult debates to still be had, but the fact that the aloofness of the present-day scholars is now being openly questioned instead of being blindly venerated is a clear sign that we’re finally emerging from the slump of cult-ish behaviour that we’ve immersed ourselves into from fear of getting things wrong.

    So freedom of speech, according to its present-day practice, is very likely, and somewhat justifiably, going to be exercised in a manner that can be deemed blasphemous by many. However, they can only successfully ridicule that which we hold sacred if we conduct ourselves in a manner that feeds such ridicule. There will always be irreverent idiots out there that despite the most convincing arguments, will always arrogantly hold fast to their ideologies that justify such condescension and ridicule even where none is justified, but the irony is that they are in fact a reflection of the behaviour of many Muslims today, just with the absence of faith in Allah. Perhaps when those mainstream Muslims realise this, they may just allow themselves an opportunity to think, rationalise, and appreciate the true beauty of what Islam offers them, rather than just stubbornly observing rituals without any consideration or understanding for its intended purpose.

    I could continue for hours on end discussing the contradictions between what Muslim claim to stand for these days, versus what their actions reveal, but I don’t think it’s necessary. The fact that we’re fair game for ridicule these days proves this point sufficiently.

  • That Thing Called Free Will

    It occurred to me tonight that it is entirely in the interests of atheists to discount, or at least attempt to disprove the reality of free will. In the absence of free will, it’s easy to argue that our actions and decisions are nothing more than elaborate sequences of instinctive behaviour hard wired into our brains. The more we experience, the greater our ability to present individuality because of the increased variables that influence our behaviour.

    However, such a theory falls far short of explaining the reason why we are able to actively and consciously choose between multiple outcomes of equal benefit. It also fails to address the reason behind us being able to consciously act against our instinctive responses. In fact, in the absence of free will, can we even claim to be conscious beings? Being conscious, being aware, being lucid all imply that there is an intelligence that allows us to acquire, grasp, and process information, and then do something meaningful, or at the least, something deliberate with that information. Even choosing not to act when action is prompted is further proof of this free will that we have.

    In considering all this, I find it somewhat amusing that many, especially atheists who pride themselves in being scientifically grounded, find it necessary to first prove that we have free will through scientific means despite the evidence that we live out on a daily basis that confirms our ability to choose independent of instinct.

    It reminds me of the ridiculous approach that we take towards life and health these days. For centuries we’ve known that chicken soup is healthy and aids in our recovery from cold or flu symptoms. Yet it was denounced by the ‘scientifically adept’ community of health professionals because no scientist took the time to understand and therefore prove the benefit that it provides. Don’t believe me? Read this. Yet if I were to take every atheist and scientist seriously, I’d have to discard the wisdom of the ages that was not grounded in scientific research, and wait patiently for them to come up with remedies that actually deal with the root causes of illnesses rather than their creative ways of dealing with the symptoms instead.

    Atheists, in all my discussions with them to date, have proven to be extremely myopic in their view of the world. They insist that their independence of religious dogma (which can also be argued to be a false notion of theirs) raises them above the ‘sheep’ that subscribe to theistic scriptures and principles. If I were to take the example of the chicken soup a step further, such a simple matter that took scientists possibly millennia to figure out benefited millions of people in the meantime. How? Through simple observation and common sense. So to apply this to the concept of creation, and therefore a creator, why should I abandon my belief system in there being a god until such time as some scientist in a distant time and place is able to confirm what I knew all along through simple observation and common sense?

    It simply doesn’t make sense, does it? The atheistic mind set that is. Abandon all knowledge unless scientifically proven and acquired, and collaborate with your peers to determine what is best for society because morality has no divine basis. The argument is so flawed that it’s almost entirely ludicrous.

    Oh, in my ramblings I forgot to make the point I started out trying to make. Why is it convenient for atheists to discount free will? Simple. If we have free will, it implies intelligent design. Intelligent design implies intelligent creation. And, you guessed it, intelligent creation implies an intelligent creator. It all flies in the face of the parts of the theories of evolution that suggests that we simply evolved into intelligent beings after originating from a single celled amoeba, or some crock like that. Even that single celled amoeba has a specific function and purpose, and I challenge any atheist to explain what cause an amoeba to be an amoeba. And when they explain that, I’d like to hear them explain what causes the cause of the amoeba to be an amoeba to be the cause of the cause of the amoeba. See how ridiculous infinite regression and the insane theories of causality can be?

    Yet atheists fancy themselves as being the only intelligent free thinking beings around. I beg to differ.

  • A Time Not So Long Ago

    There was a time when I considered engagement with others as being tantamount to the meaning and purpose of my life. I don’t any more, which is unsettling because as much as I don’t seem to yearn for it, I miss it as well. Ambivalence has never enjoyed my patronage because the indecision and discomfort it brings is repulsive.

    I always pride myself on being decisive, yet with age often comes many life experiences that either spawn wisdom or regret, and often both. In acquiring these assets, I often find that knowing more than before only highlights the abyss of ignorance that stares at me while I indulge in the seemingly noble endeavour of engaging with the hope of understanding.

    Understanding is an outcome that seldom accompanies debate these days. Perhaps my pointless circular debates with atheists have eroded my jadedness to the point of disillusion or perhaps even despair. Despair at the realisation that despite my greatest aspirations, or my most sincere efforts or intentions, arrogance will always triumph over knowledge. Arrogance breeds ignorance, and therefore it stands to reason that by extension, ignorance, in the end, will also obliterate knowledge.

    Another pointless post contemplating the purpose of life, the meaning of engaging with others, the goals of existence, and the irony of life. I feel clichéd. I feel as if my ability to contribute, to fight, to persuade, or even to influence, has been almost entirely expensed. That old familiar forgotten feeling of mental and emotional exhaustion lends its stench to my being again tonight.

    It appears I am becoming a bitter old soul after all. The brittleness of my being is all I  am able to share.

     

  • I Don’t Belong Here

    I don’t belong here. I belong in another place from another time. A time when struggles were filled with purpose, and a place where life was lived. My struggles these days seem hinged on survival, existence, garnished with a side portion of indulgence to keep the angst at bay. The fulfilment of purpose escapes me. I don’t see new opportunities any longer, I only see patterns and statistics. Everything has become painfully predictable taunting me with the doubts of what may have been inevitable, or what may have been a self-fulfilled prophecy.

    I look at the future and it appears to be a fractured reflection of the past. I see the faces around me that look to me for support and assurance, but all I can provide is dependability in its place. Optimism is tainted with reality. Hearing of the news of a fellow blogger (potentially) having committed suicide this week further deflated me. Seeing someone struggle with the same questions of purpose and sincerity, action and desire, life and death, suddenly succumbing to the despair of it all emphasises the gravity of what it is that I contemplate even when I’m dreaming.

    Everything is ephemeral, except reality. There is little that can bring comfort to a jaded soul. No, not jaded, tarnished and tainted. A soul that has found itself in the throes of realising that its life’s struggles have amounted to nought, and then some. This world was made for respite. I need to remind myself that this world was made for respite, not justice. I forget that at the times I need to remember it most. Respite, not justice.

    I need to trust in order to find reason to persevere, all the while knowing that such trust harbours nothing but betrayal. The cycles are almost perfectly formed. It’s only the players that keep changing. We embellish the distractions with superficial meaning trying to convince ourselves that it’s not the same routine. It always is.

     

  • Perhaps…

    Farting against thunder. That’s often the sum total of my state of mind these days. For a moment today I felt as if sharing my thoughts on this and other blogs of mine was in fact perpetuating the whispers of insignificance that taunt me. It’s an insane cycle. Needing an outlet, not necessarily creative or emotional, but just something to release the noise, make space for the clutter to fall into an open space so that I might be able to look for clues on how to unravel it all.

    I sometimes feel repulsed by what I write. At other times, I’m repulsed by the fact that I write at all. I wonder if all my efforts at unlocking the logic behind the ridiculous labels is in fact me denying that those labels actually apply to me. Perhaps I have a mental disorder but my arrogance and obstinacy prevents me from acknowledging it. Perhaps my views on what is or is not good in this world is in fact tainted with a sense of idealism that is unachievable.

    I shy away from debates that used to impassion me. I look at others and recede believing that my attempts at getting them to understand, or appreciate, or simply entertain an alternate view is futile. I seem prone to taking up lost causes as if doing so may spur on some global reawakening about something simple that seems pivotal to the resurrection of old school values that I cling to so dearly. Perhaps I only cling to them out of fear of not being able to embrace the new? Perhaps I’m not farting at all against the thunder. Perhaps the thunder is in fact the clutter in my head, seeing chaos where only randomness exists, and seeking order where none is possible.

    Perhaps the days of my sanity are numbered. Perhaps the purpose of life that always seemed so poignantly obvious to me was in fact a figment of my own imagination. A conjured ruse of a troubled teenager’s aspirations lacking in substance and form, with a life breathed into it from the seat of desperation that wrestles within my soul. Perhaps I was feigning sanity all along.

  • Incoherent Ramblings

    For the last few days I’ve  been typing out posts and deleting them. I question the value of what I share these days and wonder how much of it really matters, or am I just adding to the clutter? I scroll through my dashboards and feel guilty for not having the presence of mind nor the attention span to read through anything that is longer than just a few lines. So I wonder how many others feel the same way when they see my ramblings appear on their dash.

    Most of life is just drivel anyway. All the distractions that I keep trying to unravel mostly ends up being inconsequential but because I applied so much effort in the process, I feel compelled, if not obliged to give it significance. I’ve been unusually productive, yet somewhat sullen at work recently, but my sarcasm is usually enough to distract anyone from noticing the mind-space I’m in. People have grown to expect nothing less from me, except when they’re in need of advice, at which point I’m expected to assume the role of Yoda.

    My rambles are growing increasingly incoherent. My mind is foggy and words…well, words seem to be just words these days. They no longer give life to thoughts, or conjure images of amazement or beauty. They’re just words that share a thought but fail to connect. Connect.

    The landscape of my mind is somewhat desolate right now. Affirmation lacks any comfort when I feel undeserving of it. The energy required to share my thoughts this morning is more than I can muster right now. This effort is draining me instead of providing release. It only re-emphasises the space where passion once resided.

    Perhaps tomorrow will hold more promise.

  • In Need of a Label

    Sometimes I feel inclined to succumb to the labelling that makes others feel more comfortable to be with me or around me. Perhaps I should be the stereotype that is expected of me, and assume the position of vulnerability and neediness that would make others feel more significant around me. Labels, stigmas, stereotypes and the like repulse me. It forces me into a pigeon hole and makes me feel smothered and claustrophobic.

    It’s seemingly easier for me to deal with others that don’t fit the mould than it is for others to deal with me. I don’t tow the line when I’m expected to, and I don’t reserve opinion when it would be proper or polite. Instead, at this ripe old age, I still fail to realise that sincerity is not what is being sought, but rather affirmation. Saying the right thing at the wrong time has probably gotten more people in trouble than anything else.

    Such is the double standards of being human. We choose to see others through our insecurities and then lash out when they respond in a way that exposes it. I’m probably a prick of a human being because I don’t see fit to play along out of obligation when needed to do so. I assume that others are as passionate about the truth, sincerity and transparency as I am, and I’ll repeat that as many times as is needed despite knowing how arrogant it must sound.

    Proclaiming not to be arrogant isn’t the same as professing to be humble, which as they say is arrogance in itself. The absence of arrogance is not necessarily humility, nor is the absence of humility arrogance. Both are in fact perspectives that others hold of us which most often would not be true because it’s easier for me to dismiss someone else as being arrogant instead of accepting that I may have failed to engage meaningfully or explained myself sufficiently. This doesn’t excuse the behaviour of those that are inconsiderate morons who assume that the world revolves around them, although having said that, I get the nagging feeling that I just contradicted myself.

    This is a pointless ramble.

  • Compassion Fatigue

    Hearing the news about a mosque burning down in the US doesn’t evoke as strong a response as it should. Muslims around the world have become so accustomed to hearing news of such atrocities being carried out against their fellow brethren that even a drone strike on innocent civilians prompts nothing more than a woeful sigh, a shake of the head, sometimes accompanied by a muttered prayer, and often a curse for the aggressors.

    It’s the downside of being human. Our ability to adapt and cope dictates that our tolerance levels will rise each time we experience something despicable. This implies that we’ll shrug our shoulders to heinous crimes that we’ve accepted we cannot prevent or avenge in any way, and so we distract ourselves with much more menial issues to compensate for the helplessness that we feel in other areas of grave concern. But this never lasts forever. At some point we realise that what doesn’t kill us doesn’t make us stronger, but in fact, it only makes us more tolerant, to a point.

    There’s another effect that is often overlooked when people so dreamily proclaim that same cliche. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. No it doesn’t. It starts something in you that grows as long as your capacity and tolerance for it can harbour it until eventually you reach breaking point and suddenly realise that it never made you stronger to begin with. It only made you brittle. With each incident that wears away at your dignity and security, you practice tolerance and patience, but until the underlying tension is addressed, you become more brittle each day until eventually you lose any flexibilty and give way to the extremist that lurks in everyone. But at that point, no one is able to witness the horrors and taunts that preceded that final straw, so instead of understanding that the victim has finally lashed out, they become the victims and accuse you of unwarranted aggression instead.

    Perspective. Context. Understanding. It’s been a while since I witnessed their inclusion in any rational debate about being human, or about human rights and dignity.