God's Fingerprints

In many ways modern science affirms the existence of a cosmic intelligence. As science writer Sharon Begley notes in her introduction to the book, The Hand of God, "The cosmos seems fine-tuned for existence, in an almost too-good-to be-true manner. To some, this 'fine-tuning' of the laws that govern the universe is no less than proof of a designer." The intro goes on to mention several examples of these proofs.

For instance, if the strength of gravity were slightly greater the clouds of gas that condensed into life giving stars would have collapsed into lifeless black holes. If gravity were slightly weaker, stars like the sun would be unable to hold a solar system in orbit.

Another example is found in the catylitic nature of the subatomic particle known as the nutrino. The necessity of the nutrino in the creation of our universe lies in the volitility it creates in collapsing stars. The heavier elements necessary for life as we know it, elements such as oxygen, lithium, carbon and iron, are formed in burning stars. But these elements would be trapped in the intense gravity of a collapsing star were it not for the nutrino. If the nutrino interacted slightly less with other matter it could not create the vast explosions necessary to project the heavier metals beyond the grasp of a doomed star's gravity. Then those elements would not be available to form the gas clouds, planets, atmospheres and eventually the living beings we enjoy today (so try to enjoy these precious phenomenon a little more today, please). Without our beloved little nutrinos there would be nothing but hydrogen and helium floating around beyond the event horizons of black holes and the cosmos would be a very wispy place indeed.

Also of note is the mysterious formation of carbon— the element upon which all life on this planet is based. British astronomer Fred Hoyle discovered the extremely delicate situation required for such an occurrance, an infintesimally chancy simultaneous collision of three helium nuclei. But the chance is significantly increased when the carbon exudes a strange kind of energy called "resonance". Hoyle deemed the phenomonon "a monstrous series of accidents." He suggested "the laws of nuclear physics have been deliberately designed with regard to the consequences they produce inside the stars." and mused that the universe appeared to be a "put up job."

Three more ways in which scientific discovery has increased the body of evidence supporting cosmic intelligence. Add them to evidence discussed in previous posts. And yet one's individual universe will always be formed more by the limits of one's assumptions and perceptions than it will by actual facts and figures.

Buddha said, "Think and the world arises." How has your world arisen? What do you think? Is your universe the product of incredibly dumb luck that somehow dialed itself into "being" after an eternity of misfires? Or are the phenonena of the physical universe just too miraculous, its laws too concisely honed to produce life to be the product of mere dead mechanics somehow lining up the numbers perfectly on a million different levels? The simple fact that we're here lends creedence to intelligent design (Of course I'm not talking about the fundamentalist coersion of the term). The purely-by-chance falling together of all the bizarre physical laws required for existence suggested by The Theory of Dumb Luck certainly seem most likely to be the product of unfounded assumptions and a blind faith in Almighty Chaos the Ungod of Nihilism.

The Highest Purpose of All

Chapter 20 of the Tao de Ching (as translated by Stephen Mitchell) says:

Stop thinking and end your problems…
Must you value what others value
avoid what others avoid?
How ridiculous!

…Other people have a purpose;
I alone don’t know,
I drift like a wave on the ocean,
I blow as aimless as the wind.

I am different from ordinary people.
I drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.

It’s the American way to be on purpose 24/7. We’ve all been installed with that monkey on our back that constantly chatters “Never stop applying yourself and you could get a hot car, a hot wife, a righteous buzz, a big house. Global empire, even.” Put another 200 billion dollars into this war and you’ll have all the cheap oil you’ll need so you can get that Hummer and be another Arnold. Think how powerful you’ll feel rumblin’ down the road blowing all that black Persian gold out of your car’s exhaust pipe. How lucky to live in the land of “I got mine.” Just put those blinders on and stay on purpose.

Okay, if you suck up the world’s resources there may be a lot of guys without jobs who sit around in a Jihadist funk all day dreaming up ways to waste a few of us (They’ve got to have a purpose too.) but that’s why we spend 106,000 dollars per year per American on our military— so we can pretend we’re immune to the consequences of our actions.
But even if we keep a few terrorists at bay we’ve still shot ourselves in the collective foot. Our massive federal debt drives the interest rates up so we can’t buy that hot car or that big house (or any house) after all. The myriad multi-purposes of “our great purpose” in America have become cross-purposes.

Desire leads us down the primrose path of fleeting satisfaction, perpetual frustration, denial, exhaustion, disappointment and confusion. We holler over and over again “Support our troops!” as we send thousands to their deaths and fifty thousand (and counting) to be maimed. But, hey, get tough, Sparky. Americans know that that’s the price of freedom. That’s why we’re the greatest country in the world.

True, our administration lied to get us in this war and our Congress and our corporate media backed the lie and then claimed ignorance of the facts while filtering out all contradictory info but tolerance of misinformation (disseminated for a higher purpose, of course) is also the price of freedom (or at least the price of politics and business as they know it). And the 150,000+ Iraqi’s that have died? How many times do I have to say it? Price of freedom.

Dr. Robert Hare on his “Psychopathy Checklist” includes the inability to feel remorse, a grossly inflated view of oneself, a pronounced indifference to the suffering of others and a pattern of deceitful behavior as bullet points for “the compleat psychopath”. It also sound like the basic requirements for today’s government-approved patriot. Or perhaps just the resume of your typical All-American go-getter. For those that believe the end justifies the means, suppression of empathy is just a sign of moral strength not an indicator of ethical compromise. Maybe we need a higher purpose than “the higher purpose.” Maybe the highest purpose of all is purposelessness. An American company urges you to “Obey your thirst.” and drink their soda. But maybe it’s time to question the authority of our conditioned thirsts and “drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.”

Swallowed by a Whale

Big apologies to my beloved blog. I haven't checked in for a while because I was swallowed by a digital whale. It's burped me up for the moment but it's still fast on my kicking heals. The whale, more specifically, is a recording project that I've jumped into with both feet. And once that Garageband software has sucked you into its maw, it could be weeks before you see the light of day. Suddenly the world turns into mike levels, retakes, mixdowns, plug-ins and the occasional mysteriously timed techno-glitch. The glitches come seemingly at random moments like a mindfulness bell to remind you to take an occasional break from the fever dream and breathe.

Though recording can closely resemble obsessive behavior it can also be a kind of mindfulness practice at times. You set up the equipment, push the record button and you have a few seconds to grab your pick and play that difficult passage on your guitar perfectly. The urgency of the moment forces you to concentrate, to leave distracted mental activities behind and quickly pare your world down to a few essentials— rhythm, execution, intricately dancing fingers, focused breath control, intent listening. For the duration of that little red light's prompting, one becomes a samarai of fine-motor skills. So you hover between "doing-not doing" and flat-out obsessing.


The recording process does intensify one's ability to listen, of course (at least until it make you go deaf entirely). You're constanly trying to tease out the little flaws amidst the multiple tracks that are going to drive you nuts years later once you've listened to the recorded rendition of the song for the umpteenth time. In Sinatra's later years when he was singing with a voice that was pretty much threadbare, he couldn't stand to listen to any of his recordings.

When you're away from the studio jogging down the bike trail you find yourself discerning the placement of various instruments your hearing on your iPod. Hmm. They've panned the congas just to the left of center and the bongos to the right. Interesting. You're always analysing in your mind what might make your piece sound better. Maybe a string wash. Write it. Record it. Live with it a few days. Nope. Adds dynamics but sounds too "elevator music."

This is the way my sonic worlds evolve, not with a bang but a tinker. The recording process is microcosmic. The Buddha said, As you think, so the world arises. It all starts in your head. The rhythm arrangements, the melody, the bass line, the lead line, the lyrics that sketch out the imagery, point of view and emotional coloration. the evolution of the the sound suggests new possibilities. They're tried and either endure or die slowly or quickly away depending on how they contribute to the whole — not unlike the way the universe was formed— a few fundamental ideas underpinning many ever-evolving interconnected systems and hierarchies resulting in soul wrenching symphonic music forever. After all, everything is really nothing— vibrating on a zillion different audible and inaudible levels. God's recording project.

In the studio we are all micro-God wannabees. No wonder we get distracted from our blogging duties. More on this later.