SI
SI
discoversearch

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor.  We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community.  If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.
Politics : Evolution -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: Solon who wrote (29492)8/10/2012 2:22:38 PM
From: Giordano Bruno  Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 69300
 
SETI assumes ET's have the intelligence of a dog.

"Here boy, here's the frequency".
They're ridiculous.



To: Solon who wrote (29492)8/10/2012 5:04:26 PM
From: 2MAR$  Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 69300
 
It's Fun to Believe in Weird Things....

But usually most will take the money everytime better to live well on earth than in imaginary heavens is mostly the case , even if 72 Rhiannas are awaiting you there ! But clearly wanting to believe in higher powers , the supernatural , how can we forget the Heaven's Gate cult & their planned redezvous with the UFO hiding behind the Hale Bopp comet just at the end of the last century . How the sleeping mind superimposes such ideas of the ruminating molecules combined with warp sense of physical survival projected into imaginary immortalities in the dark heavens ?

I'll take planet Aubergine every time , best spaceship we'll find in a long while ..

End of the world commune reportedly saw Comet Hale-Bopp as sign to go

Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/news/article/End-of-the-world-commune-reportedly-saw-Comet-3127524.php#ixzz23BBiqM3Y



To: Solon who wrote (29492)8/10/2012 5:28:12 PM
From: 2MAR$  Respond to of 69300
 
Its the worm, microbes & bacteria that always win in the end facilitating our discorporation & reincorporation in endless cycling . One form of merry immortality we leave some traces of ourselves behind in the world , yet still to this day burial in metal coffins still is the ritual but what fearful weird nonsense is this ? The body is rich in phos , iron , calcium & potassium why not bury me under a tree , a redwood or an oak ?

(or creamation which leaves mostly those , absolutely all the best nutrients for plants but does take energy )

Stems all the way back to the terror filled fear early Christians being buried whole for without this there could be no bodily resurrection . Still is and has been a recurring nightmare which had people paralyzed with fear in Victorian England of being buried alive . Why Edgar Allen Poe's books hit such a chord . For all the hope religion perpetuates it is balanced with terror & fears just under the surface , what one would expect since reality & what we project in our fantasies is unreconciled . They do have the ashes to ashes & dust to dust part right but in the end its always the Conquerer Worm that is victorious !

For Syria , for the Holocaust , for Stalin, Mao , Pol Pot , Black Plague, Hiroshima , all the legendary Wars , famines , genocides & mass extintinctions of the past .

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) THE CONQUEROR WORM.

LO! 't is a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly—
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Woe!

That motley drama!—oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin
And Horror the soul of the plot.

But see, amid the mimic rout,
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And the angels sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.

Out—out are the lights—out all!
And over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
And the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.