Argument for Higher Consciousness in the Universe

I’ll repeat what I said about getting older somewhere else…

You have to have hope, optimism, you have to not gain any more weight, you need to go to the gym, walk, swim, something…Try not to get cancer. You should probably get a dog, and don’t fall down and break shit. Have hobbies, cultivate optimism (I already said that, but it’s worth saying again), love somebody or something, all of those things…

And you’re better off if you believe in something after and/or bigger than this life, because it feels better if you do, and potentially a LOT better if you really believe in it.

I personally choose that route because it appeals to me, and “sounds right”, and because so many other inspirational people though history leaned that way as well. Allen Ginsberg is an example.

Proof?

I’m a small thinker. No Einstein here. I believe there is a higher consciousness behind (above, beyond, underneath?) everything, and the only proof I seem to have required are Kiwis, Red Beets, and Morning Glories.

There is no “scientific story” you can tell me about how the Universe evolved that supports the necessity of Morning Glories, those little archangels of ineffable blues that have no names.

And on the topic of hues, the utterly silly detonation of color we find in Beets is insane. Go cut one in half and look at it. The whole world explains itself in a Beet. Enough said.

The rain forest luminosity and symmetry of Kiwis. Cut one of THEM in half too. You gotta be kidding me. I don’t wanna hear about some exploding gases in space sixty trillion years ago, or primordial ooze out of which Kiwis emerged. Like shut the fuck up.

Additional Evidence:

Human bodies are preposterous. They just are.

Planets flying in cycles around each other in the sky. What the hell?

Pelicans. Watch one for fifteen minutes and get back to me.

And somebody’s gonna try and tell me all about some kind of big ol’  flukey-ass eventuality that made conditions favorable for the emergence of monarch butterflies and the Beatles.  Nope. Get the hell out of here. Not having any of that.

I’m smart enough to know that something means something, even when I am not smart enough to know what it means. There’s something bigger going on, There just is.

Final Thought:

Let’s just say, if I threw a bag of confetti, three chainsaws, a Roger Maris baseball glove, and a bucket of rusty bolts off the top of a building and it all landed as a ’65 Ford Mustang, I wouldn’t look to Science for the explanation.

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