To: canuck-l-head who wrote (1193 ) 9/29/2000 10:53:52 PM From: epicure Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 28931 "However, we cannot blame all our faults and sufferings on God." True- we can blame many of the faults and sufferings on people who believe in God- whether or not God exists really doesn't matter to me- what matters to me is the way believers act (and some of them don't act very well- no one ever said all of them are badly behaved, or at least I never said that.) "Truth itself is also not a "known". What is a truth at this moment may be an untruth in another context." Absolutely true- that's why I am a relativist and an agnostic. The truth about which Gods or God or absence of God prevail in this sector of the universe seems to be unknowable to me- better to abstain from stridently announcing a firm belief in anything. one can still pick the relative morals one wants. Relativism does NOT lead to immorality. In fact I find I have lived my life more morally than most of the religious folk I meet. I'm just an anecdotal example, but I am the example I know best. Nice all the time (or close to it) is actually seen in a few societies- so I'll have to disagree with you about that. There is a society in the pacific where rape and murder are almost unknown - no harsh words are tolerated, and violent actions are discouraged. I'll try to find the article where I read about this society- I read it in the context of a debate on media violence. Your reference to Kubla Khan only makes sense to you. I fail to see any point in your reference to the Coleridge poem. I've always liked it- but it's a strange poem, I always thought it was about the power of imagination and altered states, and the threat that altered consciousness offers to people who are confined to a strict religious believ and cannot tolerate differences (close your eyes with holy dread) "A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise."