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All about me, this site, life, the universe and everything…all through my rose tinted psychedelic glasses

religion is the opiate of the masses

An insightful human being once said, “Religion is the opiate of the masses.”

Some may find this statement to be a gross generalisation and therefore easily ignored.

Others may find this statement to be insulting, sacrilegious or downright inflammatory.

The truth of the matter is that this statement need not initiate either response.

Let us analyse this statement as a combination of words put together to propose a complete idea.

First, let us look at the use of the word “opiate”.

Opiate is defined as:
–noun
1. a drug containing opium or its derivatives, used in medicine for inducing sleep and relieving pain.
2.? any sedative, soporific, or narcotic.
3.? anything that causes dullness or inaction or that soothes the feelings.
–adjective
4.? mixed or prepared with opium.
5.? inducing sleep; soporific; narcotic.
6.? causing dullness or inaction.
–verb (used with object)
7.? to subject to an opiate; stupefy.
8.? to dull or deaden.

Taken at its coarsest level, the statement can be read as “Religion is the ‘sedative’ or ‘pain relief’ of the masses”.

Now, is this that far from the truth?

What is religion cited by the ‘faithful’ as providing?

Solice. Strength in time of need. An end to suffering.

Are these not also the outcomes of taking a sedative, or pain killer, such as an opiate?

So, in its most rudimentary logical form, this statement is proven true by the very religions that balk at its straightforward coarseness.

Taking this analysis a step further, let us assume a different meaning for opiate, to ‘stupefy’ or ‘dull or deaden’.

This would change the statement to read “Religion is the ‘stupefication’, ‘dulling’ or ‘deadening’ of the masses”.

Would this statement not satisfy the most hard line agnostic in their belief that religion is a source of control by the few over the many?

So, instead of inciting anger from both quarters, should this statement that “Religion is the opiate of the masses” be celebrated as the most splendid modern statement to be made about religion.

This statement is elegantly neutral, allowing both extremes to feed unilaterally from the same trough.

So why do members of both courts find it so hard to accept this statement as ‘real enough’?

Why should it cause friction on both sides of the fence, even as the intellectual who stated it first is trying to placate the friction while laying bear the ludicrousness of the situation?

Because both parties, the hard line ‘fundamentalists’ in both camps, want to hold the ‘hard line’. Neither side wishes for a softening. They want the friction. It is how they survive.

When the BNP say they will march in an Asian neighbourhood, but do not show up to do battle with the locals who have justifiably come out in force to defend their homes and families from the white supremacists, do the locals head home happy with their bloodless victory? No, they fight the police who have come to keep the peace.

Not because any one race, creed or religion is more or less violent or more or less wrong than another.

This happens because we are all humans, rubbing each other the wrong way all day long, in every situation.

How is the one-sided riot any different from the commuters shoving and pushing, swearing and spitting, to get onto an already crowded train?

I will tell you – it is not.

We are all in this together.

And the truth that statements such as “Religion is the opiate of the masses” point out is that even when you please everyone and give them what they want, it is not enough.

We are all at fault. If we are not the hard liners, we do not attempt to soften their edges, to help them see this is one boat, one ship and that we are all one race – the human race.

We can sink or swim altogether.

It is up to us. That is one lesson it seems that no fundamentalist has learnt yet, neither from the religious nor from the rationalist perspective.

We are all the blind leading the blind.

When will we open our eyes and see?

chance encounters

I met the most delectable lady,
On a joyous romp to the netherest
Reaches of nothern Wales, she
Shone like the brightest soul in a
Room full of heart-warming light,
Each individual seemingly hand-
Picked for luminosity, a single rose
Out blossoming the rest, if only to
My own life-trained eye, smiling
She seemed all the more beautiful
Then we danced to it all, good
And bad, the songs did not matter,
Cheesy glitter ball suspended on
Makeshift wooden shaft, the high
Darkwood ceilings swallowing, not
Echoing the noise enveloping us,
Then later, a touch stolen, hands
Healing worn in compassionate
Care, eyes bright as her smile, she
Made me happy to be alive, then
Let me down softly with reality,
Someone else held her heart’s
Warm embrace, even from afar,
In which knowledge I am happy,
Giving all that I have to give, a
Smile, kindness in wisdom and
The best wishes for the future,
She is gone, leaving the softest
Touch, memory’s invisible imprint,
Her permanent impression on my Soul, love, strength and beauty.

deja vu 16/09/09

It’s hit me again, that flavour of “I’ve been here before, in a memory made long before I arrived here”. This is another of the ‘ugly’ premonitions. The taste is sour. Not of fear, as in when I dreamtremembered it, as fear is of the unknown. Once again the truth is a lot more simple and therefore complex than imagined reality. This is one for the records – one door opens, another opens. See what I did there? I do not believe doors ever close unless we slam them, metaphorically speaking. Even then we can open them back up. Nothing is forever, especially the past, which is already water under the bridge. The onrushing flood of the future just a ripple on the river of this lifetime’s horizon, as false and shimmering as any horizon, disappearing as quickly as it is chased, as any good horizon is wont to do. Back to reality with a bump. Or a smack. Slap down out of the clouds of meandering thought into this, what is so complacently labelled the ‘present’, a fun pun that rarely sees the light of day. What kicked this all off? A taste, a flavour of disjointed belief and misappropriated understanding. I am here, when a moment ago I was a million miles away, remembering a dream I had once upon a time about the present, here and now. Now I am back, on platform 3, waiting for my train home. The ghost of a memory long gone but not forgotten. An ominous dream that turned out to be a positive future viewed from the wrong angle. Maybe I did see everything clearly, back then. Maybe the dream included a full history of all then future events rolled up into that one jarring sensation of tastinglivingbeingin what has not happened yet. Maybe that is why it was so terrible then, yet so brightly tinged now. Is all perspective down to a mixture of experience and understanding? Is this what we call ‘growing up’, learning how better to roll with the punches life throws at us, to take it on the chin with a smile and not say, “that wasn’t so bad” but rather “I can see the benefit of this”. Hindsight is not always bitter, sometimes it can be sweet. So, life begins a new phase. A new leaf is turned and no one knows the true future. There will be trials and tribulations for sure, but that only is the spice that makes life a ‘living’ experience. Sometimes breath’s bedfellow’s bitter tang can bring tears to our eyes, make our face go red, clear all reasonable thought from our conscious mind and leave us grasping for that ultimately unreachable horizon glass of water to ease our pain. But we do not really need that glass. The grasping is a further source of pain, not a final relief. The glass of water is inside all of us, if we can only find it, to drink from and share with others. Some call this God, some call this love, some call this compassion. Those burdened with cynical embitterment would call this ‘false hope’. But the definition of hope can not be false. Hope is. The glass of soul-quenching water exists and we can share it with everyone without ever running out. There is enough to go around. And the best part of this plan is that all those once quenched will never look back. Cynical embitterment will be altered to clearer understanding, which in turn breeds more compassion and further conversion from the negative to the positive perspective, for that is what life is all about, perspective. I am no different a human being now from when I woke up afraid of the future, so long ago, than I am right now, in that very future. Yet the fear and distress is not so, it is love, compassion, understanding, a renewed focus on life’s gifts and challenges. This is not because that taste of the future which we label ‘deja vu’ was wrong in any way, shape or form with regards to the reality as it stands right now. Instead, the difference is in my understanding of what all this means, how I fit into that picture, which in turn let’s me see the pain as a blessing, the upcoming battle a chance to prove my beliefs on the battlefield of the emotional and psychological plane against the negative fears that make us all give up on a good thing at one point or other in our lives because “it’s just not worth the trouble”. This is ‘worth the trouble’, as is anything involving living. Let’s see where this road goes. The worst that can happen is the realisation that my summation was wrong, and with that realisation the gift of renewed clarity of vision, a new perspective. A fresh start. No need for bitterness, this is life. This is love.