Thought Experiment 2

A follow-up to yesterday.

I used to have a dog. I’d like to get one again, but my current living arrangement precludes it. My dog, Honey, was a good dog. He was not, however, a bright dog.

Honey could never understand that why we went to the vet. The notion of it escaped him. I’m not sure if dogs can comprehend ‘why’ at all, but I certainly know he didn’t understand the why of a vet. It was simply beyond his mind.

Why did he go to the vet? Because it was the best thing for him we, the humans, his loving family, could arrange. Within our abilities, in many cases, the best thing for Honey was going to the vet sometimes.

I speak not of humans as gods, but rather humans as dogs. The future was unknowable and incomprehensible to him. There was no way he could peer through it. And between him and this ineffable future was suffering in the form of the vet. Of course they were wonderful people, but he didn’t know that. He didn’t like the vet!

Humans have things we cannot understand. Why is there suffering in the world? Why are things so bad? Why can’t we see what happens on the other side of death? But like the ineffable future, all of us come to death. All dogs go forward in time. And the mere fact that Honey couldn’t comprehend it was a reflection of his own limitations, not the hateful nature of his family taking him to get his toe-nails clipped.

So is the cognitive dissonance of trying to reconcile a harsh, suffering filled world with a kind, loving God the same kind of myopia, limited by our own cognitive demesne? Is there a way forward that we just don’t understand? Honey never considered that the future might exist and that he didn’t know something. Those questions were beyond him as a dog. Likewise, we can’t imagine the questions we can’t imagine, but we can imagine that such questions could exist. Humility may be a key to unlock cognitive dissonance.

All that smacks of sophistry to me, but Honey looked at me with love and betrayal when he had to get his toenails clipped. I miss that dog.

Thought Experiment

I’m still turning over some CS Lewis, and I have another thought experiment. How can the idea of Hell be reconciled with Christian theology?

After death comes an afterlife. The veils pull aside, and you meet God. He gives you 100% of joy. All the euphoria, all the happiness, all of all good feelings are yours forever. You get Heaven, and all sins forgiven, all mistakes pardoned, all failings blessed. You get it.

And so does everyone else.

There is no judgement, no condemnation, and no ruin. Everyone meets the same end on the other side of the veil: Heaven. All the good people, all the bad people, everyone is given the glory of a kind and purely munificent God.

For eternity, you will see everyone granted the same euphoria you have. Everyone who’s ever done you wrong, hurt you, or disregarded you through callous feelings is given the exact same euphoria as yourself, and you get to witness it forever. Every vile human being, every murderer, rapist, abuser, Nazi, everyone is given the same joy. And you will witness it forever. Hell is thus your own jealousy and ill feeling, not lakes of fire or tormenting demons.

I see only two choices. The first is that you delight in Heaven, delight that suffering has been wiped away from everyone, and rejoice. Forever is a long time, and it’s full of joy.

Or the fury that those people who don’t deserve it are in Heaven too will eat you, forever, and you’ll never be free of them. Because God gave you nothing but happiness, and the only limit is what you bring with you. I think that would destroy many people, and they would make for themselves Hell in Heaven.

Aside, it matches up pretty closely with Judeo-Christian Theology. The workers in the vinyard speaks of everyone being treated the same. The prodigal son talks about this as well.

The counter argument is that for all the supposed kindness involved, this afterlife does indeed incorporate many people who will suffer forever. Regardless of whether or not it’s their fault, the people who won’t forgive others with still suffer in agony. Sure, for the sake of argument, they’re suffering because of their own jealousy, pride, or what have you. But that is no less suffering. Why would a kind and loving God, the fundamental basis of any Christian belief, allow for such a thing to happen?

Which returns us to the initial question, though perhaps a more simplified version of it. How can any idea of Hell be reconciled with Christian theology? If the failing is not in the mechanics but in the end result, then can any suffering coexist with Christianity?

That’s really my problem with suffering and Christianity as a whole. Sophistry aside, people do suffer, and Christianity postulates a kind, loving God. I don’t see how that could ever be combined.

However, the question itself can be avoided.

Pelosi’s Trip to Taiwan

Good on her. This was well done. Pelosi has been a strong supporter of Taiwan and critic of the CCP, and she handled this right.

She had an op-ed in WaPo laying out her reasons, and that was cogent, nonprovocative but firm, and aware of the realities of the situation.

There are people doing good things on both sides if you look for them.

World Building vs Setting

I got about 60k words into something before really internalizing that setting and world aren’t the same.

The setting is the scene. It’s the hotel, the dragon’s lair, battlefield, or bar. The world is the connection between settings. The world dictates whether the hotel takes payment in dollars, doubloons, or credits. It determines the species of dragon, whether they are multitude or singular. Why are the armies battling? What kind of people are in the bar?

The best way to get to the world is through settings. If the hotel has some people, those people tell the readers concrete specifics about who lives in the world. If the old guys at the bar are complaining about passage rates to Alpha Proxima or the recent profusion of dragons, we know even more.

But the setting tells us more, things that can be in any world. Are A and B having a relationship argument? That’s common to all worlds with people as we know them. Their specifics are useful to the world, but we can’t have their argument about forces of nature, light speed, and good versus evil. They need to be mad about needs, who keeps eating the leftover cake, and why A keeps looking at C. Your story is based on setting. It takes place in the world.

They’re close but not the same.