EdgedThesis

Yessir. Humans are pretty awesome, when viewed in the proper light, of course. Our ambitious attitudes might, sure, lead to greed or lust for power, but collectively I think it brings progress. Oh, and, ^new story series up. Ill have another up soon enough.

Sweet. Thanks for the feedback--it's cool I can learn from this place. Yeah, I'll work on the subtlety a lot. The truth is, I was bored at my summer internship and had no work for the moment, and decided to work on this. Thanks for the hints to refine my stuff. It's good to get responses from different places, am I right? Even if your high school English teacher is a beast, it is best to get reactions from several people. Oh, and those angry statements I made in the last story wasn't made to transfer over into the realm of the metaphorical. And yeah, I realize I sound kinda idiotic with my last line of One, haha. I'll probably send in a few pro-religious stories in this thread too, on another day. Edit: I was a cookie stealing ninja when I was two. Or five. *cough* Yeah, I had those stages in there to kind of mirror the stages of human development in both spiritual/societal/scientific areas. I should have probably broken the ages down at wider intervals, to allow for more realism. The problem is, I wanted there to be a huge span of time available after the 'point of arrogance', because personally I think the human race has a lot ahead of it in terms of development. I expect great things...

Edited to include Sentinels--a story that I believe highlights the merits of religion. Now I have the main viewpoints covered. Sentinels .....The sky was split in half with lightning. Jagged lines of bright, eye-searing blue struck the horizon in the distance, each with a thunderous crack! The display of light and fire was muffled and darkened only by the tattered gray clouds, the deafening howl of the wind, and the all-encompassing blanket of cold rain. .....In the chaos and darkness, there existed a small band of yellow and orange light. It was a city, forming what seemed like a bright barrier that would shield refugees from the storm. On either side of the city stood a humongous pillar of concrete and glass, reaching up towards the flowing gray of the sky above. They loomed above all other edifices like dark sentinelsthe watchers and protectors of all the tiny pin[puncture]s of light that lay beneath them. .....The eerie, high pitched shriek of the wind as it rushed through the corridors of the city picked up. Tear-shaped raindrops fell with a soft pitter-patter, creating a solemn, sorrowful beat that echoed throughout the city streets and played upon the rooftops. Curiously, the sound of two footsteps joined this collection of beatsthe only noises that dared to intrude upon natures discordant music. They came from the skyscrapers on the western and eastern sides of the city, almost simultaneously. .....One set consisted of the hard clacking of business shoes. The footfalls abruptly stopped, accompanied by the hollow flap of a black umbrella. The owner of both the shoes and the umbrella adjusted his glasses with a single gloved finger. It was The Scientist, enigmatic owner of the Western Skyscraper, dressed as impeccably as usual. The young man, sporting a five oclock shadow, then continued to the edge of his roof, taking in the vista of brilliant light that was his city. He then looked up, to the rooftops of his buildings eastern counterpart, as if expecting to see someone. .....His eyes met yet another pair of eyes, the two gazes blasting into each other like beams of pure animosity. The older, more wrinkled pair softened and looked away, becoming more focused on the water seeping into the white robes of its owner. The Clergyman, the bleached cloth of his dress flapping ceaselessly about in the wind, too walked to the edge of his roof to glance down upon his city. .....A frown framed his leathery face, enough to counter the angry scowl of The Scientist. Both of them had exit the safety of their homes for a reasonmen such as these do not simply walk into the freezing rain out of pleasure. The angry and depressed contortions of their faces were then justified: a single siren rang out over every rooftop, almost giving crescendo to the cacophony of the wind and rain. Then came the blackout. Every single light winked out with a metallic thump, all except a tiny glint upon the Eastern Skyscraper. It was an oil lantern, held aloft by The Clergyman. It was blown out after minutes, but the old man refused to let it die. It was once again burningonly to be extinguished once more. The Clergyman again revived it. .....The Scientist, now standing in darkness, saw this exercise in futility. Foolish old man, he thought. He closed his eyes, and though his glasses began to slip off of his rain-slicked nose, he did not push them up again. It fell with the characteristic tinkle of broken glass. The sirens grew louder now, the long notes now overwhelming the banshee-like screams of the wind. He simply thought. How do we get out of this problem? How can the city be saved? Millions of questions ran through his mind. None of them were answered. But still, he kept thinking. He would defeat this. The crisis would not overwhelm his mind. .....The Clergyman, shielding his lantern with his hands, kneeled down and began to whisper. The quiet wisps of voice that escaped his lips wafted over the city like ghosts. He prayed. .....The Scientist saw the kneeling white figure in the distance, and scoffed. He promptly returned to his meditation and search for answers. Sweat mingled with the rain as they both slid down his forehead. .....Suddenly, the lightning stopped. The thunder ceased its erratic drumbeat. The pitter-pattering of the rain was silenced. Yet, the siren still rang out in the midst of the dead quiet. Both eyes, wrinkled and young, looked towards the sky. A single black oval, trailing flame and smoke, burst through the clouds above the center of the city. .....The Scientists forehead was folded and distorted in frustration. His mind worked furiously. .....The Clergyman had an air of calm, his white robes gently rippling around his aging frame. His mouth bent into an acknowledging smile. .....The black oval whistled down towards the cityscape, riding the winds like a flaming horseman. The silencing quality of the dark comet was like that of Death himself. .....The mouth of The Scientist opened in an exhausted gasp while The Clergymen let out a knowing laugh. .....Crack! .....In a deafening wave of thunder no man had ever heard before, the missile hit the city. In a flash of lightning that had never before been seen, it released its inner fire. Every ear was deaf and every eye was blindno one could see the black mushroom cloud of the bomb leap forth from the ground to join the clouds. No one saw that, for a moment, all the concrete, glass, and steel of the city were like liquidthey rippled outwards from the explosion in successive waves of destruction. A wall of fire swept over every building. .....The faces of the men upon their sentinel-like skyscrapers were charred into permanence: .....A blackened charcoal smile lay amongst shreds of white cloth. Next to shattered glass and pieces of black umbrella, there was an expression of absolute fear. The Agnostic Argument One: .....Tick. .....Summer, our side of the planet is closest to the sun. .....Tick. .....Winter, now it is farthest. The stars in the sky twinkle brighter than ever before. .....Tick, tick, tick. .....Mars follows its own waltz around the sun within the void. Saturns rings flow around it with celestial grace. Pluto and Neptune switch places in their race through the blackness. .....Our universe. As predictable as the hands on our watches. And our watches were designed. The implication is obvious. I can see why this was the main belief of the masses upon the advent of astronomy. .....The ticking watch is how the universe was like when we knew next to nothing about it. Now, smash that watch. .....Hear the crack of the glass, and the whistle of its delicate parts streaking through the air. Unbidden by any force, save the laws of physics. Listen to the tiny metal fragments hitting the floor with almost unnoticeable pliks. .....Plik. .....Asteroids speeding towards the craggy surface of some unknown planet, its face already scarred and defaced. .....Plik. .....A star on a leisurely stroll through another star system, unknowingly sending all its planets into a clumsy tumble, radically rearranging their geographies. .....Plikplikplik. .....A suns internal chaos escapes and engulfs its cosmic companions in a fiery, red inferno. Worlds are ripped apart between the forces of its two stars. Atoms are shredded within the one-dimensional bowels of a black hole. .....This is our universe. Not a harmonious dance. Just a chaotic bid to keep on course as the myriad forces of the galaxy impede your path. .....Designer? Argument Two: .....I am one year old. I live my life as does an animalI am fed by my mother, anxious only to eat or sleep. I have no interest in this world around me save what provides for me. .....I am two now. My eyes hold a little bit more curiosity. I have found new ways to get nourishment. I have the ability to sneak up on unsuspecting cookie jars and take what I need. Sometimes, when my friends are over, we work as a team to thwart our restrictive parents. .....I am three. I catch my first lasting glimpse of a lightning storm. It is spectacular, if not slightly terrifying. This strange glowing substance that lasts only for an instant, seemingly bursting out of nonexistence, must be unnatural. Is some spirit alive in those clouds? .....I am four, and I am enjoying my new set of tinker toys. I am my own inventor, and have already created several things. They are not only useful, they are fun. .....I have reached the milestone of five years. I no longer copy my inventions from the manuals in the box. I now just follow my imagination. Once, I used some light Lego pieces and attached them to paper wings, and let it fly in the wind. .....I am six. I still watch thunderstorms in my free time, and I still cannot figure them out. Elusive spirit, in the clouds .....My life accelerates as school takes over my life. I am fifteen. I am wandering the old villages of my home country, and savoring its natural smells and sights. There is a lightning storm in the distance. I know now that it is simply a balancing of charges built up both in the ground and in the dynamic surfaces of clouds. Even so, I pray to my deity, who watches not over the petty defeated mystery of lightning, but the universe, and is the one that had birthed both it and human beings. The deity that gave us our purpose. I pray that the storm would not reach the village. .....I see a small boy nearby. He seems to be about six, the same age I was when I was fascinated by these things. I see him pull out his necklace and begin to ask that the storm not reach his home. He was asking some unnamed spirits. .....I began to laugh at the similarity between us, and at the ignorance of all young people. .....When I advanced even further in age, I laughed at my own ignorance during that single moment of arrogance. Argument Three: .....He was sitting in his darkened room, nursing his bruises and, he suspected, his cracked ribs. His parents had just taken wooden beams to him, and he was only given slight respite within the blackness of his basement quarters. .....Apparently, it was a part of his re-education. He had grown up mostly influenced by his friends, while his parents usually were busy getting drunk somewhere. And now, suddenly, they wanted some love. Ridiculous. .....They had gotten together and even typed up a little booklet for him. Stupid little things like hugging them at least five times during the day, maybe even having a family get-together every Sunday. What a waste of time. .....When hed refused, they decided to seek love through pain. They decided to take what they called a Legalist approach. Now, he didnt know much about Chinese philosophies, but the idea that they were going to try and herd him using rewards or punishment like some kind of animal was insane. Hed refused, and he kept on refusing. Why did his parents have the sudden desire to care for him and guide him through his life? Inexplicable. .....They kept on repeating, in that stupid little pamphlet of theirs, that they deserved his reciprocation of their care. Bull. They gave birth to him. Big ****ing deal. Thats the one thing they always repeated. They gave life to him. As far as he was concerned, that wasnt a giftit was a curse. .....They gave him food and a place to sleep when he was a kid. That was their second reason. No ****, idiots. I was a little baby, it was your obligation to give me food. He had nothing to thank them for except years of emptiness. What had seemed like centuries of emptiness .....Their ultimatum was a simple one. Lie subject to their new rules or be beaten in the shed later on. Love them. .....Psh, he thought. Like they even needed his love. .....In the end, his resolve emerged stronger than before. His parents threats to beat him to a pulp fell upon uncaring ears. He would not be bound by irrational rules. .....After he emerged from his basement, his parents brandished steel pipes that were used to heat his underground room. Both cutting off the warmth of his living quarters and wielding weapons, they stood triumphant in their victory. They gave him one final warning that his head would be smashed if he did not obey. They tossed him another copy of their moronic little pamphlet. .....His answer was clear, simple, and concise: .....I dont give a damn. .....He did not have feeling in his toes the very next day, but he did have his dignity. .....He had a distinct, burning thought as tears of hatred seared his face. He glared at his parents through blurred corneas and the voice in his head increased in volume. .....I never asked you to give birth to me The Atheist Argument One: .....The so-called life-giving hand of God was embodied by the bitter cold and the poisonous fumes of primal Earth. Volcanoes filled the air with their fountains of ash and vapor, their rumbles so great that they would have clasped the hearts of anything alive in utter fear. Storms, sliding against each other in what seemed like war-torn skies, sent down lightning and thunder, the heat and vibration laying waste to the surface of our world. .....The loving womb He provided us was in the frozen embrace of the poles, or in the tumultuous, toxic seas. It was there where, either by reactions from the light and plasma above, or the sub-zero tendrils of the depths below, the seed of life slowly gestated. .....Our first bout of violence was in our infancy. The tiny things that had grown from frozen nucleotides and amino acids forged in lightnings furnace had begun to take over the known world. When suddenly, a green thing emerged from the fray and began mixing and switching gases, its body somehow trapping and even feeding off of light. The atmosphere of the Earth changed that dayand the first organisms, who had fought so hard just to survive, were destroyed in one fell swoop. By a simple organic process. .....We then began to acquire a taste for the living. Heterotrophic cells began to take our oceans by storm. Violence was simply a part of the cycle. .....Our bodies were molded by the fires of ecological war. Organisms began to teethe so they could easily rip at the flesh. They developed chemical weapons to bombard their enemies. Claws were forged to shred, and thorns were engineered to pierce. Soon thought processes sped up in order to strategize, and voices took volume in order to command. Fingers grew from bloodied palms to manipulate, and spines erected to view the battle from above. .....This is simply a summary of our bloodstained, viciously serrated wheel of life. Did you see any compassion in the spin of its bladed spokes? Did you see intent in its unthinking, deadly revolutions? .....Hm. Neither did we. Argument Two: .....I am adrenaline. .....I am testosterone. .....I am estrogen, endorphins, serotonin, and whatever other endocrinal secretion you can think of. .....I am the electricity that passes through my electron conduits, the same force of energy that sends signals to my central processor. .....Light bounces off of the world around me, is focused through the lenses of my dual photoreceptors, and is quickly processed by the efforts of my individual cones and rods. .....The air thrums and vibrates, the influence tapping away at my aural sensors, my complex organic microphone that replaces silicon and plastic with the gifts of keratin and calcium. .....Pressure pads line the soft shell of my body, both warning me of impending dangerthe odd threats to turn me into scrapand letting me enjoy the pleasures of proper maintenance. .....Thick bands of dynamic rubber cover my unorthodox internal structure, which is strange crystal lattice composed of several separate fragments of rarely utilized soft metal. They act as a system of pulleys and levers, complex mathematical formulas and equations constantly being put to use in order to lift, move, and function. .....A complicated system of coolant tubes forces liquid through my body to sate the overheated, thirsty desires of the mechanisms around it. .....A huge red engine lies beating at the topographical center of my being. It pumps exhaust and vital fuel, its series of pulsating pipes and hollows, in effect, providing me with power. .....I am, by all standard definitions, human. .....A human, who, in curiosity, magnetized his computers inner workings. .....A human, who, in the darkness of his room, wonders if any of the memory inside had survived. Argument Three: .....What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs by noon, and three legs by evening? .....Hmm. Lets break down the riddle. Obviously this is some sort of life cycle. Lets picture the three different stages in our minds eye. .....Four legs? This would be some sort of animal, perhaps? No, I doubt any four legged beast metamorphoses into a biped in its life-cycle. Biped? I believe a light bulb just went off above my head. .....Its human! Infants crawl on four little legs, and men and women stand strong on their feet. But, do humans grow three legs? Ahem, ignore that potential innuendo. Three legs obviously later in the life cycle. I have never seen any old man grow an extra leg. Well, except if you include those few who got too close to radiation at some point in their lives. Wait, I think Ill let out a gasp of my intellectual satisfaction here: Ive figured it out. .....Its a crutch. Kind of a broad generalization, dont you think? I doubt all humans grow old and need the use of a cane. I doubt many even want to. .....The wretched, wooden things support the weight of, sure, what might have been a painful life, but I think it takes away your potential for further development. .....Sure, you could lean your mass upon the narrow, spindly form of that cane, but wouldnt it be better to learn how to adapt to your age? .....I know that some people have an illness that makes physical therapy a little impossible but still. If you had the knowledge that you wouldnt be able to walk again, wouldnt you strive to compensate for your disability with something else? .....Wouldnt reliance only upon yourself allow for quicker development and progress? .....Whatever, Im reading too much into this sad excuse of a riddle, anyway. .....I guess Im just prejudiced against crutches. Ah well.

Thanks for the advice. Varrock Library seems a lot more barren than what it used to be.

I don't know how to get indent properly. Damn. Anyway, try and cut through the walls of text and try to find some moral or virtue.

I'm currently working on a collection of short stories that are backed by morals. It is meant for a more modern time than the virtues found in Aesop's. As part of my project, I want to ask what themes and ideas you glean from this little story, which eventually will become part of a collection. The Celestial and the Earth It was beautiful. A glorious blue gem that sparkled in the middle of the bleak darkness. It was a beacon of hope to all those who laid their eyes upon it. The cosmic jewel was so vibrant, so lively, and with so much potential. The Celestial, a bodiless presence that floated through the cosmos, dived down through its blue skies. The aquamarine facets that had been a part of a sparkling emerald and sapphire jewel revealed themselves to be lights reflected off of something more precious than any stone. It was water. The ethereal Celestial sensed the humidity in the air, and relished in its very existence. The joy of flying was enhanced by the joy of this place. This galactic gem. It twirled through the air, laughing a crystalline, chiming laugh that nobody could hear, or existed to hear. The winds pushed the disembodied soul towards the glittering blue surface of the oceans, and a smile that only it could sense played across its face. A hand, that physically did not, and could not, exist gently touched the surface. Though the fingers that dipped into the water were without mass, the liquid parted. The smile on the Celestials face, her face, widened as it presented this wonderful world with a gift. As if the contents of the package it sent into the depths of the seas was a secret, meant to surprise beings from elsewhere, she laughed that beautiful laugh. And then she departed. Days later, years later, millennia later, she returned. Where was the gem that she had seen before? Where was it hidden? After years, even decades, of searching, she caught a glimpse of its light. But this light did not come from that beautiful planet, it came from a hunk of hard, ugly metal that floated past the pale white sister of her beloved world. It appeared to be sailing, perhaps outward to the farthest reaches of the giant necklace of precious stone that orbited the yellow star at the core of the system. She glided past the metal to her favourite jewel, and pierced through the fog that surrounded it. What was this smog? It had a certain something that left a bad taste in her mouth. Could it be that the gift she had presented this world created this? No. Impossible! She glided through the skies and saw glints of light flicker upon the surface of what had been emerald continents. They were four legged creatures, joyfully running through the plains. The Celestial smiled. Her gift had come to fruition. Columns of smoke and fog rose in the distance, however. She flew towards the grey, nebulous presences with eyes filled with hatred. And then she saw them. Cyclopean buildings of mortar and stone, dominating the landscape. They would have been beautiful, if not for the fog. The Celestials eyes tried to pierce through the mist, and geometric figures leapt out at her as she did. A crescent here, and a cross there. What seemed like star danced in front of her eyes as well, its six-sided beauty at a rough contrast to the surrounding grey. Only rare balls of light pierced through the fog here. The Celestial looked into the distance. There were even more buildings that erupted in smog. Tiny glints of dimming lights, walking upon two legs, exited them and disappeared into the distance. She glimpsed inside the building, and caught what appeared to be a black board, with white lines scrawled across it. Tiny light sources, also bipedal, sat in chairs and desks in front of it as the malicious grey enveloped them. Only the occasional emission of light would light up the grey world as one of the little bipeds raised a hand. A tear that only existed in the ethereal mind of the Celestial dripped down an equally non-existent cheek. Her gift had come to this? She caught a beam of luminescence shoot up into the skies through the fog several miles away, and a spark of hope ignited within her. She was almost blinded by the luminous shafts as she glided towards another of those creature-created edifices. This one, lined with light, was indeed a work of art. She observed, through windows and open doors, the bipedal sources of energy that she had seen from afar. She saw them perform tests, and record notes. Watched them debate and discuss. Heard them whisper to themselves before sleep. The Celestial glided up through the clear skies above this house of purity, but caught the scent of the smog once more. She realized what it was. It had been a long time since she had seeded a planet, and was beginning to lose memory of how the metaphysical essences of life felt like. Smelled like, she thought, as she wrinkled her nose. Of course, the lights were easy. Nothing could make here forget what those signified: pure thought. Untainted by predispositions or pre-programmed knowledge. But it was a long time since she had scented the stench of grey ignorance. She looked down towards the planet, and towards the columns of light that periodically erupted through opaque skies into the dark void of space. She was not usually religious, but she sent a prayer to whatever could respond: please let this world be purified by its peoples. With a burst of energy, she left the star system, the galaxy, and finally floated in the dark spaces that dominate the universe. Soon she would return, to see if the battle of light against dark had been won. Soon she would return, to see whether her gift of life had been in utter vain, or had been a sincere contribution to the galaxy.

Those who said that should be heavily rehabilitated, and whoever brainwashed them should be shot. That's actually not a stupid question. There are several stages of vegetarianism, and quite a few Hindus eat meat. The fact that you don't eat eggs doesn't have to mean you don't drink milk. If my god started (athiestlolbutwhatever) started spurting out random liquids I wouldn't exactly drink it. ...That sounded very wrong. Cows aren't gods to them. They are revered because they are so damn useful. They provide milk and cheese. It is the representative animal for one of their gods though, I think Krishna. Hindus don't worship animals. They aren't even polytheistic, they are monistic.

Edit: Damn. Completely out of context. Oh well.

Couldn't the inverse hold true as well? How many times have you seen someone, pure of heart and intentions strictly good, be exploited because of his core traits? I'm sure good and evil stem from each other. I'm not even sure the term 'evil' is ever correct. Maybe someone holds an opposing view, but he or she is not 'evil'. Who would ever desire to be that way?

Necrobean... Judging from your stories on 'Ever Caught Them", you've GOT to have some sort of talent. :lol:

1.) Magazine 2.) Jungle Boogie 3.) Solid Snake. I hope someone realizes what Youtube video I'm referring to here, haha.

Can you give me the source material that comprises claims like Young Earth and other concepts that contradict what evidence shows us? I would like to see how many different ways it could be interpreted. Oh, it would also help if some background info was provided as well, because I'm pretty sure in a book like the Bible (Books of Faith usually are really ornamental and... just generally weird to read) context is important. That way, both I and anybody else can be enlightened to how many different meanings can be gleaned from the texts. Thanks in advance.

Hmm. Cool. The things listed, I'm sure, are things that we've inherited from our genetic past. Cooperation? Bestial pack hunting. I'm sure chimps do this too, as do the more obvious animals like wolves. And self-preservation is a given. But I would have though that, with our self-awareness, we'd be hardwired with something else. Maybe it has something to do with the maturity of an infant's brain, maybe it's still too animal. It might just be that Moral Law kicks in when your brain gets to grow, and the full implications of self-awareness (and awareness of your community) come into play. Or, you know... not.

Definitely levitation. When I want to seem intimidating, I'd arrange my body in such a way that when I go fast enough to produce heat, huge orange arcs would flare off of my shoulders. Fiery wings. Sweet.

Most of my nights have been spent, nowadays, simply debating with friends about religion and human nature.One of the questions I brought up was: "How exactly is Mankind's moral framework colored?" I mean, the news projects different ideas upon all of us. So do the events the occur right outside our homes. They all point out that the human heart is stained either black or white, and all the mixed signals tend to be confusing. There just seems to be so much bad in this world, but usually I can find another fact that renews my faith in our race. No doubt humans are intelligent beyond measure (collectively), but the question that hangs in the air is whether this power will be guided towards good or evil in the future. The main question I have for you is this: Do you think that there is a standard existent in all humans? A universal moral law for our species? And if so, how would this Law be bent or twisted to create the insanity seen everyday? In case you were wondering, I believe that we will always exist in a state of gray. I think that our morals are handed down to us by our environment. But still, I have always wondered if, while I was formulating my own virtues, I actually twisted whatever I was originally hardcoded with.