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The purpose driven life.

In the purpose driven life, original intent rules: whatever something was made for is its purpose, and any other use is a perversion.  Accordingly, those who deride and condemn homosexuals for breaking this primary rule--one which itself seems more to follow from fiat than design--also refuse to drink milk, because it is intended for infant cattle; to eat peaches, because those are meant to nourish new peach trees; to partake of honey, which is supposed to feed bees; to use paperweights which were ever anything else; to flip coins; to vomit; to accept medically administered suppositories; to make origami with anything but origami paper; to make paper airplanes at all; or even to use paper, which is just repurposed pulp that should be either doing its work in a plant somewhere or else rotting into new life.  These people are never specious hypocrites, because that would clearly go against God's plan for them.

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Pointless Ruminations on the Absurd

The world around us is in no way required to conform to our expectations, beliefs, or desires. Rather, it is all but guaranteed to disappoint us, at least once or twice a lifetime. The loftier (or more deeply felt) our ideals, the more this may be true.

When we accept this incongruity and are keenly aware of it, but cannot change our thinking, absurdity steps in. The world no longer quite makes sense. It is untethered from rational or moral concerns, adrift in a bizarre joke told by no one.
Desire for normative order is often irrational and misplaced. Placing ethical constraints on amoral matters makes no sense. Yet these appear (sometimes, seemingly) inescapable conclusions. Hence the sensation of absurdity.

We can apply these incongruous demands to anything and anyone. But this is not a universal philosophy. It is a philosophy of the self, a diagnosis.

Well now.

I think I'm going to try to revive my online writing habits, outside of Facebook.

And what have I been thinking or feeling in the interim, across the last couple years or so? Well, I'm glad you asked.

In part, this.