am constantly told that I cannot possibly know what happens to us after death. And, in accordance with my
contrarian nature, I am prone to claim the exact opposite: that yes I do know with sufficient accuracy what happens to us after death, and I am able
to supply vast amounts of data, without feeling the need to describe the process of organic decomposition. We, like every living being, decompose
after we die. Even so—and even in the face of such overwhelming evidence—the contradiction of an afterlife continues to plague those still afraid
of the dark.
The transmigration of souls, heaven, purgatory and even the void—these ideas are mercilessly morbid, the tales and notions of guilt-ridden
necromancers caught under the spell of their own fears and cultural biases, who seek only to clutch deathlessly to their own existence where they are
unable to clutch no more, and all under the guidance of rhetoricians indoctrinated amidst the drunken Orphism of iron-age men. No amount of conjecture
or anecdote has ever given us any realistic reason to believe them, but boy do we have plenty of tales and promises to keep these grim-herders looking
in the opposite direction of the evidence.
We are often told of a near-death experiences as irrefutable proof of the afterlife and disembodied souls, complete with harrowing tales of travels
across vast landscapes while they ironically lie motionless and unconscious on an operating table, imploring us to believe the contradiction that they
were in fact somewhere else the entire time, rather than in the confusing, mind-altering and functionally-depraved death throes of a dying body. It is
painstakingly obvious that these experiences are delusional, the product of a dying organism, with no actual record of the patient ever having left
the hospital. What’s more, the tales of what occurs in these dreams resemble the religions of their culture, complete with specific deities unique
to different religions, i.e. a Christian does not see Vishnu and a Hindu does not see Christ, showing that there is either many types of afterlives,
or perhaps, that it is merely their neurobiology, ever formed by their upbringing, affecting the outcome as it might a dream. Even stranger, while
their soul is away from their body, they can still feel pleasure, peace, and see bright white light (so don’t forget your shades), almost as if
something physical—maybe a brain—was producing this effect. The sort of testimony is akin to asking someone who was asleep at the time of a crime
to be the prime witness. Besides, a living person describing what only the dead could see is, for lack of a better term, moronic. Let it be known that
death is a permanent affair. Near-death does not constitute death. In fact, death is merely a name for the permanent cessation of bodily functions,
and surviving death is a contradiction. Only the dead can illustrate what happens after death; and they do, as we’ve been burying them, digging up
their bones and dealing with their corpses for millennia.
But alas, perhaps there are some fine granules of truth somewhere among the fodder and fetters of superstitious men. It is reasonable to expect that
the same type who would advocate entire mythologies for the purpose of repudiating sensuality and sex, so that they may distance themselves from their
fear of the birth canal and the sovereignty of women, might do the exact same to other natural phenomena such as death; but perhaps in this case the
irrationality of their fears are not so irrational, and only their reasoning is.
I suspect it would be nice, in a plebeian sort of way, to believe there is punishment and reward to be received upon death. However, this implies our
existence is merely a means to an end, where that end could only ever imply…well…an ending. I find this notion somewhat juvenile, as reward and
punishment are worldly concepts, relative to worldly people and worldly states of affairs. I would imagine worldly concepts do not apply to
otherworldly concerns. Rather, it is the people around us who will be punished or rewarded upon our death.
When someone we love dies we mourn their absence and celebrate their life. This seems pretty straight forward. However, once we step beyond our
fathom-lines into the murky waters of superstition, and in doing so, project them (really, ourselves) into some hereafter, we do their time here on
Earth and their memory a great injustice. We imagine them in an afterlife for our
benefit. We put something of them—not a product of them but
a product of our own minds—in an imaginary easy chair in an imaginary place in the sky, and in the process, slander what was once real about them.
It is particularly selfish to focus on such trivial ignorances and imaginings surrounding their death, rather than reflect upon what we do know and
remember about their life. If they are somewhere in a state of bliss among angels and God and deceased loved ones—wouldn’t that imply their death
was a good thing? If things were how we wish they were, and they were out there “in a better place”, shouldn’t we instead be glad that they
died? Of course not.
But allow me to go contrary even to my own views, dear reader, for I wouldn’t be much of a contrarian if I didn’t—there is life after death.
Life has not ended since it started. It has survived massive extinction level events, and the organic material that makes it up has always persisted.
It will continue long after us; and in the cool halcyon light of such freeing information, the after-life becomes what it always has been, namely, a
contradiction; and it will only further expose itself as an idea of self-centredness, or what we might aptly call, the after-me-me-me.
I’m sorry but, your thoughts, your personality, your psychology, or whatever fleeting contradiction that you assert leaves you upon death, as if an
immaterial substance could be trapped in a material substance, goes to the same place it has always been—absolutely no where.
Then why bother, you ask?
Despite your corporeal disappearance, you will be remembered, you will be judged. Your immortality is in direct proportion to how much you’ve
impacted people’s lives. It is not that one actually goes to hell; it is that he is remembered hellishly, to be tormented in the thoughts of the
living for as long as he shall be remembered. Likewise, the exact opposite is true. It is our deeds and actions that make us immortal, how we have
touched the lives of those around us. How much we pray, how much faith we have, however many times we have sacrificed to our gods doesn’t make a
damn difference in this respect. They will make a difference, however, if we make a difference, that is, if they are embodied in works and deeds.
This is how you survive after death, and it is as simple as planting a tree, which will grow sturdy and live long. It’s as simple as an act of
kindness, which sits clear as day in the mind of the recipient. It’s as simple as inspiring another by leading by example. It’s as simple as
having a positive impact. Give back to the nature we have for so long taken from. Give back to the humanity we have always relied on. Become
memorable; become nostalgia; become inspirational; and even if you are to become forgotten, realize that you were the first cause of an effect that
forever continues throughout eternity.
Thank you for reading,
edit on 18-9-2014 by LesMisanthrope because: (no reason given)