I received the following beautiful analogy from a close friend:
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Yesterday early evening I looked out to see a familiar sight. The birds were lined up, waiting patiently for each one’s turn, to drink from the spa that spills in a gentle waterfall into the pool. There are always several kinds of birds – varieties of doves, sparrows, grackles, thrashers — who while they probably don’t hang out together, or breed or raise a brood together, take time each evening to congregate for a drink of water. Each waits patiently because a bird knows it will have its fill of water upon its turn. It must seem to them that there is an endless supply of water and considering their numbers (sometimes the parade of birds seems endless) they are right. As long as the automatic waterer keeps the pool and spa filled, as long as we keep water in the pool…
I couldn’t help but think about humanity and how if we were birds, what we would be doing with the waterfall of seemingly endless water that supplies enough water for all birds. If I were the biggest bird, or most aggressive bird, or most selfish bird, or most entrepreneurial bird — I would claim the waterfall as my own and charge the other birds to drink from it. Some of the other birds, if I happened not to like them or their ways of being birds and thought I was a better bird, I wouldn’t allow to drink from the waterfall, or if I did I would limit access or charge differently, maybe more. By controlling access to water, I would be controlling the lives of all birds. Once I controlled their lives, I would begin to build my empire. I would be Big Bird. I would barter with birds and trade water for having them build me the biggest most luxurious nest in the neighborhood. I would have birds working for me, fulfilling all of my desires. I would think it was fair and just because in exchange I provided for them the elixir of life. I am benevolent, don’t you think?
Eventually the birds who have to pay for water would organize a revolution. They want a government that is of the birds, by the birds, for the birds. I would be either exiled or killed and a new bird would be in control of the water who promised to charge a reasonable rate for water and would not deprive any bird of its God given right to have access to water. And bird democracy begins because all of the birds have forgotten that there is enough water for every bird and even if someplace in the unconscious recesses of their bird brains they want to think that this could work, they will never try it because they know that some big or aggressive or selfish or entrepreneurial bird will ruin it for all birds. And so the endless supply of water that is available to all birds will forever be a dream.
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The analogy gives a whole other significance to the colloquialism: “It’s all for the birds,” which means objectionable or worthlessness.
Oh, how wonderful it feels to be liberated from having to use analogies and belief systems in order to share the real truth to the world.
During the MWAW Commencement Q&A session I was asked to explain, for example, where the New Testament came from and from what source did it rise. I suppose it’s just too hard to accept, for those who have placed so much value on it all of their lives, that it’s all myth-based.
I found myself at the event using, again, allegories and referring to my knowledge of the scriptures to compassionately help those present grasp the real truth. I didn’t like it at all … not one bit!
From the moment I was given the knowledge on June 16, 1987, I was very uncomfortable with the whole concept of religion and the “philosophies of men mingled with scripture.” I wanted nothing to do with any of it …
… thus the true purpose for the gold plates.
Because, when I saw them sitting in front of me, I certainly wanted to know what they said. I felt special realizing that I, of all the men in the world, was chosen for what I thought at the time was the greatest of all events. My ego deceived me! But THEY used my ego against me and to get THEIR work done! Bastards! Deceivers! Manipulators! :-)
That’s right! Just thinking how cool it was to have the actual gold plates sitting in front of me kept me from using my mortal common sense, coupled with my newly received complete understanding of real truth, to realize that whatever was written upon the plates was not real truth and was only being utilized by our advanced monitors to help us use our own brains. My ego blinded me. I couldn’t even figure out at the time that the plates themselves were a manipulative tool used to motivate me to fulfill my role. I can’t imagine how it would have all played out if my ego had not gotten in the way for the past 25 years.
I could have given the inquirer into the New Testament ample evidences to show where the stories of the Bible came from and what real significance they had in our real experience during this mortal life. But I had an obligation to speak to everyone equally and not bore another with the details of how a myth becomes a person-motivating reality.
I suppose if I had to reveal any negative aspect about my experience now verses before June 16, 2012, and the Marvelous Work and a Wonder® Commencement, it is missing the opportunity to use my ego and understanding of allegory, myth, and things that people want to hear. I can tell the truth, the real truth, and let the consequence of the listeners’ emotion fall, no longer upon me, but upon the individual.
I’m done being God’s tool to “take away his plainness from them, and deliver unto them many things which they cannot understand, because they desired it. And because they desired it God hath done it, that they may stumble.”
I am finally at peace with people stumbling all over themselves because of themselves. I’m no longer a stumbling block … and can enjoy the experience of watching others stumble. How can I enjoy it? BECAUSE THEY DESIRED IT!
I think I’d make a better comic now than a true messenger.
One of my all-time-favorite comedians, who had more common sense than most, is the late George Carlin. And about religion, he delivered the real truth with intelligence, simplicity and humor, seemingly right out of a page of the MWAW notebook, without the religious allegory, of course:
- When it comes to bullshit, big-time, major league bullshit, you have to stand in awe of the all-time champion of false promises and exaggerated claims, religion. No contest. No contest. Religion. Religion easily has the greatest bullshit story ever told. Think about it. Religion has actually convinced people that there’s an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever ’til the end of time!
- But He loves you. He loves you, and He needs money! He always needs money! He’s all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, somehow just can’t handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, they pay no taxes, and they always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story. Holy Shit!
- But I want you to know something, this is sincere, I want you to know, when it comes to believing in God, I really tried. I really, really tried. I tried to believe that there is a God, who created each of us in His own image and likeness, loves us very much, and keeps a close eye on things. I really tried to believe that, but I gotta tell you, the longer you live, the more you look around, the more you realize, something is fucked up.
- Something is wrong here. War, disease, death, destruction, hunger, filth, poverty, torture, crime, corruption, and the Ice Capades. Something is definitely wrong. This is not good work. If this is the best God can do, I am not impressed. Results like these do not belong on the résumé of a Supreme Being. This is the kind of shit you’d expect from an office temp with a bad attitude. And just between you and me, in any decently-run universe, this guy would’ve been out on his all-powerful ass a long time ago. And by the way, I say “this guy”, because I firmly believe, looking at these results, that if there is a God, it has to be a man.
- No woman could or would ever fuck things up like this. So, if there is a God, I think most reasonable people might agree that he’s at least incompetent, and maybe, just maybe, doesn’t give a shit. Doesn’t give a shit, which I admire in a person, and which would explain a lot of these bad results.
- So rather than be just another mindless religious robot, mindlessly and aimlessly and blindly believing that all of this is in the hands of some spooky incompetent father figure who doesn’t give a shit, I decided to look around for something else to worship. Something I could really count on.
- And immediately, I thought of the sun. Happened like that. Overnight I became a sun-worshipper. Well, not overnight, you can’t see the sun at night. But first thing the next morning, I became a sun-worshipper. Several reasons. First of all, I can see the sun, okay? Unlike some other gods I could mention, I can actually see the sun. I’m big on that. If I can see something, I don’t know, it kind of helps the credibility along, you know? So everyday I can see the sun, as it gives me everything I need; heat, light, food, flowers in the park, reflections on the lake, an occasional skin cancer, but hey. At least there are no crucifixions, and we’re not setting people on fire simply because they don’t agree with us.
- Sun worship is fairly simple. There’s no mystery, no miracles, no pageantry, no one asks for money, there are no songs to learn, and we don’t have a special building where we all gather once a week to compare clothing. And the best thing about the sun, it never tells me I’m unworthy. Doesn’t tell me I’m a bad person who needs to be saved. Hasn’t said an unkind word. Treats me fine. So, I worship the sun. But, I don’t pray to the sun. Know why? I wouldn’t presume on our friendship. It’s not polite.
- I’ve often thought people treat God rather rudely, don’t you? Asking trillions and trillions of prayers every day. Asking and pleading and begging for favors. Do this, gimme that, I need a new car, I want a better job. And most of this praying takes place on Sunday His day off. It’s not nice. And it’s no way to treat a friend.
- But people do pray, and they pray for a lot of different things, you know, your sister needs an operation on her crotch, your brother was arrested for defecating in a mall. But most of all, you’d really like to fuck that hot little redhead down at the convenience store. You know, the one with the eyepatch and the clubfoot? Can you pray for that? I think you’d have to. And I say, fine. Pray for anything you want. Pray for anything, but what about the Divine Plan?
- Remember that? The Divine Plan. Long time ago, God made a Divine Plan. Gave it a lot of thought, decided it was a good plan, put it into practice. And for billions and billions of years, the Divine Plan has been doing just fine. Now, you come along, and pray for something. Well suppose the thing you want isn’t in God’s Divine Plan? What do you want Him to do? Change His plan? Just for you? Doesn’t it seem a little arrogant? It’s a Divine Plan. What’s the use of being God if every run-down shmuck with a two-dollar prayerbook can come along and fuck up Your Plan?
- And here’s something else, another problem you might have: Suppose your prayers aren’t answered. What do you say? “Well, it’s God’s will.” “Thy Will Be Done.” Fine, but if it’s God’s will, and He’s going to do what He wants to anyway, why the fuck bother praying in the first place? Seems like a big waste of time to me! Couldn’t you just skip the praying part and go right to His Will? It’s all very confusing.
- So to get around a lot of this, I decided to worship the sun. But, as I said, I don’t pray to the sun. You know who I pray to? Joe Pesci. Two reasons: First of all, I think he’s a good actor, okay? To me, that counts. Second, he looks like a guy who can get things done. Joe Pesci doesn’t fuck around. In fact, Joe Pesci came through on a couple of things that God was having trouble with.
- For years I asked God to do something about my noisy neighbor with the barking dog, Joe Pesci straightened that cocksucker out with one visit. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with a simple baseball bat.
- So I’ve been praying to Joe for about a year now. And I noticed something. I noticed that all the prayers I used to offer to God, and all the prayers I now offer to Joe Pesci, are being answered at about the same 50% rate. Half the time I get what I want, half the time I don’t. Same as God, 50-50. Same as the four-leaf clover and the horseshoe, the wishing well and the rabbit’s foot, same as the Mojo Man, same as the Voodoo Lady who tells you your fortune by squeezing the goat’s testicles, it’s all the same: 50-50. So just pick your superstition, sit back, make a wish, and enjoy yourself.
- And for those of you who look to The Bible for moral lessons and literary qualities, I might suggest a couple of other stories for you. You might want to look at the Three Little Pigs, that’s a good one. Has a nice happy ending, I’m sure you’ll like that. Then there’s Little Red Riding Hood, although it does have that X-rated part where the Big Bad Wolf actually eats the grandmother. Which I didn’t care for, by the way. And finally, I’ve always drawn a great deal of moral comfort from Humpty Dumpty. The part I like the best? “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again.” That’s because there is no Humpty Dumpty, and there is no God. None, not one, no God, never was.
- In fact, I’m gonna put it this way. If there is a God, may he strike this audience dead! See? Nothing happened. Nothing happened? Everybody’s okay? All right, tell you what, I’ll raise the stakes a little bit. If there is a God, may he strike me dead. See? Nothing happened, oh, wait, I’ve got a little cramp in my leg. And my balls hurt. Plus, I’m blind. I’m blind, oh, now I’m okay again, must have been Joe Pesci, huh? God Bless Joe Pesci. Thank you all very much. Joe Bless You!
I’m starting to love this experience!
Love, One of the Birds!