A God for the Rest of Us (12/12/08 Friday)

I think of how this writing project was not allowed to come to what I considered an organic conclusion, wherein my gradual personal growth weens me from the infatuation, and I realize how little control I ever had over it. I thought and thought, then did stupid things; and others who did not thinking at all did the stupidest things. There is no defense. Every day, I believe less in any kind of personal control over my life. I told Julie Monday, "That's just the way things work for me." She politely tried to pooh-pooh my attitude with, "Dion, don't say that," but I wiped a backhand in front of my face as it to erase my statement, then said, "If there's a god, he's a bitter, spiteful god." That got a laugh, but I don't know what kind--doesn't matter. Now I think that's about what I've been dealing with ever since I became cognizant of the machinations of irony in my life: Not a predeterminant or even a guide, but an omniscient reactor; not a force that will take one by the hand or so much as offer advice, but one that lies in wait for one's earnest effort, upon which it effects its own perverse resolution. That is my god. And, fittingly, now that I've come to this belief, it becomes self-fulfilling--like any deity: Wind him up, let him go! In my ironic way, I have become "religious." (I grin.) I have my meaning of life, and it's worthless.

The best I can do is play its game, feed it with my intentions, hopes, and needs, then see what comes out its other end. I can neither embrace it nor resist it; by its nature it is impervious to conscious force. It needs no faith; I didn't create it; it is not God. I can't anticipate its denouements--I will be pantsed. That's just the way it works. I suppose all I can do is take its pronouncements with humor--a tall order so far.

But what of the ending? Are we there yet? Not by a long shot. Hinckley asked, what now? about the blog. "Do you know what form the blog will take?" "I don't know. Maybe when my indignation fades, I'll be able to figure it out." "That could be a while." Well, it's been a short while, my indignation has faded, slighty, but I have figured it out. You're reading it.