The Meaninglessness of Life

  Life, in and of itself, is inherently meaningless. It doesn't serve some divine purpose anymore than we as a species serve a divine purpose. Claiming that life or humanity has meaning or purpose is simply a form of self aggrandizement. We do it to make ourselves feel special and important. Religion, for all its talk about being humble, engages in this sort of aggrandizement. It tells us that we were made in God's image. It tells us that we were given dominion over the Earth and its creatures by said God. It tells its believers that they're better than the nonbelievers. Instead of humility, it gives its followers hubris.

  Like it or not, we're nothing more than animals. Highly evolved animals, but animals nonetheless. And like our less evolved brethren, we can be vicious. Unlike our less evolved brethren however, we possess the intellect and skill to do some incredibly large scale damage. We have the potential to wipe out ourselves and the majority of life on the planet. And the hubris of religion can be one of the factors leading to us wiping ourselves off the face of the planet.

Suicidal Tendencies

  Sometimes the only answer to Life's problems is death. Between my declining health and rapidly mounting debt, I'm getting close to reaching that point. I'm tired of working and having nothing to show for it. What's the point in busting my ass only to fall further and further behind? In death, my problems would still exist but I'd no longer give a shit. The one loan I took out has a clause in it that considers it paid off should I die so it would cease to exist the moment I cease to exist. That's over $6,000.00 of debt erased in an instant. Now I fully realize that committing suicide has repercussions. My family and friends would be grief stricken by my decision. They would, however, eventually get over it. And if they didn't, I'd still be dead and thus in no position to care. You see I don't believe in an afterlife. There's no soul that separates from my body to head off to some mythical place of eternal bliss or torment. That's religious bullshit designed to force you to conform to their belief system. The only existence you have after death is the memories of those still living. When those are gone, so are you.

  Do I want to commit suicide? Not at the moment. Whether that changes of not depends on a lot of things. But I have to admit that there are times when my life seems utterly pointless and devoid of meaning. I feel the only reason I'm here is so Fate has someone to shit on. Now I fully realize that there are people whose lives are far, far worse than mine. There's not much I can do about it but I am aware of it. That doesn't change things. If my life continues to spiral down the proverbial toilet, suicide might be my response.

More Religious Stupidity

    Today's Journal Times featured an article about Dale and Leilani Neumann of Weston. They were convicted in 2009 of second degree reckless homicide in the death of their 11 year old daughter, Madeline Kara. She died in 2008 from a treatable form of diabetes because her fucking stupid religious zealot parents prayed instead of getting her medical help. These negligent, ignorant superstitionists allowed this poor girl to grow weaker and weaker for several weeks until she became too sick to speak, eat, drink or walk. They ignored suggestions from the girl's grandmother to take her to a doctor. They put their religious beliefs ahead of their daughter's well being and she pays the price. If your precious beliefs prevent you from going to the hospital, that's your business. In all honesty, I hope whatever condition you're not getting treatment for kills you. The world will be better off without you. However, your religious views should not allow you to endanger others. Dale and Leilani have proven beyond all doubt that they're incompetent at raising children. Their remaining children should be permanently taken away from them and they should be locked away where they can do no further harm. That is the sanest course of action to take.

In the event of brain death

I want to let it be known that I, Michael Wayne Ursu, am the only person that can post on this blog. No one else has that level of access. This little corner of the Internet is where I occasionally get up on my proverbial soapbox and rant. And the rant of the moment concerns brain death. In the event that I wind up in a persistent vegetative state with no hope of ever coming out of it, LET ME DIE!!! I have no desire to have my brain dead body kept alive if I'm going to be nothing more than a 200+ lbs. slab of meat. Just harvest any organs that can be used to help others and get rid of the rest. I haven't decided yet whether I want to donate my remains to a body farm so they can study how it decomposes or get it flame broiled into ashes. If I were to go with flame broiling, it would be kind of neat if my ashes could be made into a set of gaming dice. That way I could continue to take part in RPG sessions after I shake off this mortal coil. It would be a complete set consisting of 2d2s, 2d3s, 2d4s, 2d5s, 4d6s, 2d7s, 2d8s, 2d10s (with 1 die labelled 0-9 and the other labelled 00-90), 2d12s, 2d14s, 2d16s, 2d20s, 1d24, 1d30, 1d34, 1d50, 1d100 and a set of 4 Fudge dice (these are 6 sided dice with 2 plus signs, 2 minus signs and 2 blank sides on opposite faces). The problem, of course, is how would I get that done? I'm not sure that there are any dice makers out there that would honor such a request. And if they did, what would it cost? But enough of this dice talk. My reason for making this entry is so I can avoid becoming like Terry Schiavo. As you may recall, Terry ended up in a persistent vegetative state and there was a legal battle as to whether she should be kept alive or be allowed to die. Since there was no explicit record of her ever declaring what should be done in this situation, the court case dragged on for about 15 years. So I'm saying it again. If I ever wind up in a persistent vegetative state and there's no hope of me ever coming out of it, LET ME FUCKING DIE!!!

Suicide

Suicide

Jumping out a window.

Slitting one’s own wrists.

Sometimes people do this

When the pain of life persists.

Committing hara kiri,

Taking sleeping pills.

That’s just two sure fire ways

Of curing all life’s ills.

Hanging at the end of a rope

Or a bullet through the head.

Life will just keep going on

Until we are all dead.

Revenant: An Easter Sunday of Sorts

Revenant: An Easter Sunday of Sorts

Life? Unlife.

Dead? Undead.

After three days on the inverted cross

My undead eyes again see

The world that crucified me for my nonconformity.

Pain? No pain.

Love? No, hate.

Slowly I struggle to pull myself free

So I can get my revenge.

I will track them down and slaughter them all.

My beliefs I will avenge.

Peace? No, war.

Hell? Heaven.

My revenant now stalks the land

With only just one goal.

To show them the error of their ways

As this servant of death takes his toll.

Psyanide

Psyanide

Numbing poison can’t stay sane.

It’s gnawing, gnawing at my brain.

A cure I cannot seem to find

To start the healing of my mind.

Depression, anger, fear and hate

My feelings I cannot relate.

I feel so cut off and alone.

This feeling numbing to the bone.

I want to escape from this hell

Before hearing my death knell.

So running, running off I go.

Where my mind is, I don’t know.

Finally gasping my last breath

I found serenity in death.

And when you ask them how I died

 They’ll tell you it was psyanide.