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Title: Drowning
Author: Wolfi Landstreicher
Language: en
Topics: atheist, Killing King Abacus, religion
Source: Retrieved on April 6th, 2009 from http://www.geocities.com/kk_abacus/drown.html

Wolfi Landstreicher

Drowning

Drowning...

A death in which one is completely overcome by a natural force too great

for one to fight...

But what deaths do not involve such a force?

I think drowning has its special significance because the force

surrounds the victim, encompasses her, ingests and plays with him.

Particularly in the sea, it is as if infinity has swallowed the one who

has drowned, has taken him in and turned her into a part of itself.

While there are similarities to death by fire, which also consumes its

victims, fire lacks the apparent infinity of the sea, and the victim has

freedom of motion limited only by her own fear, at least until

asphyxiation causes him to lose consciousness. But one who drowns finds

himself to be the plaything of the sea, forced to partake in its

fluidity of motion. Certainly the drowning one will struggle against the

power of the sea. But to what avail? Her motions are conformed to the

desires of the sea; his struggles merely lead to exhaustion and limpid

acceptance. The motions, the currents, the fluid tidal dance possess

one’s body and take it where they will. I imagine one’s mind is also

slowly possessed by the aqueous dream and slowly drifts along toward

inevitable oblivion. Who does not imagine the drowning victim

dreamy-eyed and languid? Do not forget that we are mostly water. Doesn’t

it make sense then that such a death would seem, in our imaginations, to

simply be a return to our source? Maybe this is why we attribute calm

and peace to the last moments of one who drowns. I have heard people

speak of this as if it were a known established truth, even a scientific

fact. But of course, no one knows. The drowned do not return to tell the

tale of their last moments. So such a “truth” must be understood

poetically, as a reflection of our view of the sea and of our own

unperceived fluidity.

We are strange creatures. We desire...we need...to separate ourselves

from the infinity, to find our own uniqueness and color all the infinite

worlds with it, in this way making them our own. But such a task is

daunting. And more so as social constructs developed by those in power

in their attempts to dominate this process channel our endeavors into

mere reproduction of this social system which drains the infinity of

color and of its infinitude, leaving us with lifeless matter and

lifeless lives.

Then the appeal of losing ourselves once more in the infinite, of

drowning ourselves, comes to the fore — the appeal of religion. Surely

by this time, the absurdity of religion has been exposed a million times

over, both practically and through intellectual argument. Yet in these

desolate and dreamless times, its appeal is on the rise. The anguish of

living as a unique individual without the possibility of creating the

universe in one’s own image, of coloring the infinite marvelous from

which one has extracted oneself, with a beauty that enhances the world

and one’s own life, makes oblivion attractive. And the oblivion offered

by religion, drowning in the waters of baptism, is far less frightening

to most people than the absolute and final oblivion of suicide. But

those who choose the oblivion of religion are not merely cowards, but

traitors to themselves and to all who strive for self-realization,

because religion — however soft and malleable its form (even in the

guise of spirituality, that insidious thief which steals the marvelous

from the physical world and encrusts it with belief, destroying its

fluid and convulsive beauty) — is part of the social system that stole

our creativity from us to construct the monstrous, gray nightmare that

surrounds, this mad civilization that replaces creativity with

production, free activity with work, vibrant living interactions with

technological and bureaucratic mediation. This explains how religion is

an opiate: it makes us oblivious to the anguish of our suppressed

uniqueness and creativity, allowing us to forget the damage without

curing it. It numbs us to the point where we accept the damage and its

cause, civilization in its totality. One can see how certain forms of

atheism — its stalinist and maoist forms as well as the 19^(th) century

rationalist forms touted by the American Atheist followers of Madelyn

Murray O’Hare — can be religions. Atheism only avoids religiosity by

having an existential as opposed to a dogmatic basis — that is as a

willful decision to refuse god rather than a belief in no god. And the

willful refusal of god has its basis precisely in the decision to

extract ourselves from the infinite — that is the mass — and to live to

the full the singularity of our being, drawing the universe into

ourselves as our own and, thus, creating the marvelous in all its poetic

beauty...the decision to pull ourselves from the sea so that we may come

to know and love it with the fullness of our own unique being as only

those who refuse to drown can.