A Michael Bit
Nov. 19th, 2003 02:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_gneechA Michael Macbeth fragment, recreated from memory because the original is in a binder somewhere... (©2003 by me, in case somebody out there has in mind to steal it, please don't)
Susan sighed heavily. It was all too much. "No," she finally said. "I can't believe it. I won't believe it. It flies in the face of science."
Michael shrugged. "Science has its limitations. Just look at me! I talk to spooks."
"There's a perfectly rational explanation for that," Susan said. "You're bonkers."
"Well," said Michael, "there are people who treat science as their religion ... don't believe for a minute that science doesn't have its orthodoxy and its heretics. In fact, I once knew a fellow who went so far as to establish a scientific church."
"Eh?"
"Yes indeed, with pomp, circumstance, and all the trappings of the most baroque Cathedral. Their symbol was the hydrogen atom rather than the cross, and their bible was the collected works of Stephen Hawking."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're joking, right?"
"Not at all. Friend of mine from college was the founder, actually, Hubert Fewmand, or Brother Hubert as he preferred to be called. He figured that there couldn't be anything closer to knowing the mind of God than to observe the mechanism of the universe, and he founded an entire religion based on that premise. But, he had a problem."
"Besides being more bonkers than you, you mean?"
"Well, Hubert's problem was one of psychology, yes, but not in the sense of being personally off his rocker. You see, the problem was one of sin."
"Sin?"
Michael paused, apparently trying to collect his thoughts. "One of the most profound and important functions of religion, not even taking into account any relationship with the divine that may or may not be involved, is that it provides a moral compass. Or as the Christians might say, 'love good, murder bad.' You follow?"
"Yes...?"
"Well, if you establish a religion predicated on the laws of science, where's the moral compass there? Science is only interested in what is or isn't possible. Gravity isn't good or evil, gravity is just 9.8 meters per second squared. Or so you'd think. But Brother Hubert took another view. His brilliant flash of insight was this: if the laws of nature and possibility, as understood by science, are good, then there could only be one true sin: to do the impossible."
Susan blinked, as if Michael had just told her that her ears were turning green.
"But really," Michael continued, "what good is that? What kind of moral victory is it to overcome sin, if all that consists of is not doing things you couldn't do anyway? The commandment, 'Thou shalt do the possible,' is terribly easy to obey, but doesn't carry much emotional weight."
"You're making this up, aren't you?" asked Susan.
"Not a bit of it," replied Michael. "And I'm just getting to the important part."
"It's about time."
"Well, Hubert was in a quandary; obviously, there's no moral victory without struggle to overcome sin, right? So therefore, in order for his religion to mean anything, he had to figure out some way to break the laws of physics. It wasn't easy! The reason they're called 'laws,' after all, is because they're very dependable. But Hubert was nothing if not devoted to his faith, and he picked a right bugger. He would break the law of gravity. He would learn to fly."
Susan shook her head. "Crazy. Certifiable."
"But it's not, don't you see?" said Michael. "I just explained the thinking behind it, it's perfectly rational."
"And doomed to failure."
"Not at all," said Michael. "Brother Hubert worked it out."
"What?"
"No, really!" Michael said. "After a lot of fasting, meditation, and prayer, and possibly the application of some Happy Thoughts, Brother Hubert lifted right off the ground, before my very eyes, and flew around the church three times. It was the most incredible thing I'd ever seen! He then landed and promptly started sobbing at the top of his lungs because he felt so guilty."
Susan just stared at him.
"Well, I mean, wouldn't you? Here's a man who's dedicated his life to devotion to the laws of science, only to find himself deliberately violating them just to serve his own ego. He felt terrible!"
"You're pulling my leg. You've got to be."
"No, honestly!" said Michael. "I know it sounds incredible, but there it is. I've got Brother Hubert's number at home, you can call him and ask for yourself. He swears that he'll never do it again, but you know what temptation is like. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he slips out at night and flies around the city in the dark, when he thinks science isn't watching."
Susan was just laughing, now.
"As you might imagine, his little spin at an altitude of fifty feet lit the fires in his small but dedicated flock. They all quickly picked an impossible feat to teach themselves, so that they could then all aspire to go to heaven for refusing to do them. One of them took up the practice of opening doors and windows through sheer force of will, and has nearly been excommunicated because he can't bring himself to stop. Another walks through walls. Or I should say, can walk through walls, but won't allow herself to give in and do it. A third one picked up Brother Hubert's flying habit, and comes over to my place every few weeks to cry about how very, very ashamed he is."
"And are you a member of the congregation, Mr. Psychic Detective?" Susan finally asked. "With your ESP and dowsing and what-not?"
"No," said Michael. "I'm an agnostic."
She smiled, and realized suddenly that she wasn't upset any more. And she wasn't scared ... or at least, nowhere near as scared as she'd been. "You know," she said, "tho this be madness, there's method to it."
Michael's eyebrows raised in suprise. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he insisted.
Susan sighed heavily. It was all too much. "No," she finally said. "I can't believe it. I won't believe it. It flies in the face of science."
Michael shrugged. "Science has its limitations. Just look at me! I talk to spooks."
"There's a perfectly rational explanation for that," Susan said. "You're bonkers."
"Well," said Michael, "there are people who treat science as their religion ... don't believe for a minute that science doesn't have its orthodoxy and its heretics. In fact, I once knew a fellow who went so far as to establish a scientific church."
"Eh?"
"Yes indeed, with pomp, circumstance, and all the trappings of the most baroque Cathedral. Their symbol was the hydrogen atom rather than the cross, and their bible was the collected works of Stephen Hawking."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're joking, right?"
"Not at all. Friend of mine from college was the founder, actually, Hubert Fewmand, or Brother Hubert as he preferred to be called. He figured that there couldn't be anything closer to knowing the mind of God than to observe the mechanism of the universe, and he founded an entire religion based on that premise. But, he had a problem."
"Besides being more bonkers than you, you mean?"
"Well, Hubert's problem was one of psychology, yes, but not in the sense of being personally off his rocker. You see, the problem was one of sin."
"Sin?"
Michael paused, apparently trying to collect his thoughts. "One of the most profound and important functions of religion, not even taking into account any relationship with the divine that may or may not be involved, is that it provides a moral compass. Or as the Christians might say, 'love good, murder bad.' You follow?"
"Yes...?"
"Well, if you establish a religion predicated on the laws of science, where's the moral compass there? Science is only interested in what is or isn't possible. Gravity isn't good or evil, gravity is just 9.8 meters per second squared. Or so you'd think. But Brother Hubert took another view. His brilliant flash of insight was this: if the laws of nature and possibility, as understood by science, are good, then there could only be one true sin: to do the impossible."
Susan blinked, as if Michael had just told her that her ears were turning green.
"But really," Michael continued, "what good is that? What kind of moral victory is it to overcome sin, if all that consists of is not doing things you couldn't do anyway? The commandment, 'Thou shalt do the possible,' is terribly easy to obey, but doesn't carry much emotional weight."
"You're making this up, aren't you?" asked Susan.
"Not a bit of it," replied Michael. "And I'm just getting to the important part."
"It's about time."
"Well, Hubert was in a quandary; obviously, there's no moral victory without struggle to overcome sin, right? So therefore, in order for his religion to mean anything, he had to figure out some way to break the laws of physics. It wasn't easy! The reason they're called 'laws,' after all, is because they're very dependable. But Hubert was nothing if not devoted to his faith, and he picked a right bugger. He would break the law of gravity. He would learn to fly."
Susan shook her head. "Crazy. Certifiable."
"But it's not, don't you see?" said Michael. "I just explained the thinking behind it, it's perfectly rational."
"And doomed to failure."
"Not at all," said Michael. "Brother Hubert worked it out."
"What?"
"No, really!" Michael said. "After a lot of fasting, meditation, and prayer, and possibly the application of some Happy Thoughts, Brother Hubert lifted right off the ground, before my very eyes, and flew around the church three times. It was the most incredible thing I'd ever seen! He then landed and promptly started sobbing at the top of his lungs because he felt so guilty."
Susan just stared at him.
"Well, I mean, wouldn't you? Here's a man who's dedicated his life to devotion to the laws of science, only to find himself deliberately violating them just to serve his own ego. He felt terrible!"
"You're pulling my leg. You've got to be."
"No, honestly!" said Michael. "I know it sounds incredible, but there it is. I've got Brother Hubert's number at home, you can call him and ask for yourself. He swears that he'll never do it again, but you know what temptation is like. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he slips out at night and flies around the city in the dark, when he thinks science isn't watching."
Susan was just laughing, now.
"As you might imagine, his little spin at an altitude of fifty feet lit the fires in his small but dedicated flock. They all quickly picked an impossible feat to teach themselves, so that they could then all aspire to go to heaven for refusing to do them. One of them took up the practice of opening doors and windows through sheer force of will, and has nearly been excommunicated because he can't bring himself to stop. Another walks through walls. Or I should say, can walk through walls, but won't allow herself to give in and do it. A third one picked up Brother Hubert's flying habit, and comes over to my place every few weeks to cry about how very, very ashamed he is."
"And are you a member of the congregation, Mr. Psychic Detective?" Susan finally asked. "With your ESP and dowsing and what-not?"
"No," said Michael. "I'm an agnostic."
She smiled, and realized suddenly that she wasn't upset any more. And she wasn't scared ... or at least, nowhere near as scared as she'd been. "You know," she said, "tho this be madness, there's method to it."
Michael's eyebrows raised in suprise. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he insisted.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 12:03 pm (UTC)I love it! Can I join Brother Hubert's church?
no subject
-TG
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 12:15 pm (UTC)Now imagine if this were true in the real world... heheheheh.
Lizard Rat out.
Talking to Spooks in Rensselaer
no subject
-The Gneech
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 12:33 pm (UTC)Erm, cancel that. That'd just be X-Men, Furry Style. *shrugs*
Lizard Rat out.
Babbling in Rensselaer
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
-The Gneech
no subject