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What's The Point? (Part Two)

by
Robert Farmilo


OR: Your Existential Quandry 
Just Grew Wings and Flew Away

Some years ago (1985) a film came out from those two excellent British producers, Merchant-Ivory...the period piece film, “A Room With A View.”

It was based on the novel written in 1908 by E.M. Forster. The story features a snippet of life of a young English lady rising into full womanhood in that restrained and highly mannered time of Edwardian Britain.

There is a moment in the film version of this classic story of romance and society...a part set in Italy---oh so gorgeous a backdrop for the contrast between the heart and the mind, the intellect and the soul---when the heroine of the novel meets a young man who is NOT part of her social circle.

He is a passionate young man, and has met life with that giant question mark...the questioning near-cynicism that burns through the heart of every young seeker of truth and beauty.

This question basically boils down to, “What the bleep is the purpose of it all?”

Now, wait a minute...hang on...I am NOT suggesting that this character was portrayed as a despondent malingering sad-sack---for he was not.

I am describing that condition of seeing the dancing hee-bah-boo's that infiltrate any thinking human being...who catches glimpses of the horrible irony of, “What's the bleeping point?”

Essentially you can translate this to mean:
  • You are born
  • You live
  • You die
  • That's it, that's all, folks

Oh, sure...you may have some brief moments of insight and a few good meals...perhaps some great moments of sexual congress with someone other than yourself---that's possible, maybe even probable (for some of you).

But when you get smitten with the WTP? (What's The Point?) perspective...you begin to notice how people who survive long enough seem to dribble out the last parts of their stupid existence...into a withering and demeaning wasteage of old age.

They become doddering, drooling simpletons who end up staring at walls in the backroom of some old-age ghetto storage facility---if they're lucky---getting bathed once every week or so, medicated up to the gills to keep them nicely passive...and perhaps some spritely family member comes along every so often to feel very awkward and guilty about not feeling guilty or interested in this, this, this hideous exo-skeleton waste of skin.

The old people are a stark reminder of what is coming---and the spritely young don't believe that could ever happen to them...it's just so foreign a concept to the pulsating ego...that it is just rejected, outright. And the old fools become this sort of object...true aliens...who are to be...er...well, best ignored and shunted aside and put in rooms where they can have each other's company, because God knows that “we” can't stand 'em.

Besides, they are such a time drain...and they moan and mess and require attention.

Meanwhile...back to A Room With A View...and that young man. He has made a large question mark and mounted that large question mark as a sort of emblem for the quest of meaning in the stark contrast of the meaninglessness of it all.

Now...when and if you read the novel or watch the film:

The young man's father gives a very clear answer to his son's questing questioning of the great mystery.
 Here is the father's answer to his son's question mark:
What exactly is an existential quandary...and why should you care?


The above question is almost a joke, by the way...the punch line being: “Why should you care?”

This goes hand-in-hand with the question: “What is the point?”

One of the best known existentialists, and the first to self-identify as such...was Sartre. He is known to have defined the term in a lecture that he gave in 1945...a very good year to ponder the meaning of...meaning.

Here is his famous quote from that lecture: “...the attempt to draw all the consequences from a position of consistent atheism.”

Please insert laugh track. And not because I am trying to 'diss this idea of atheism. I quite see atheism as a very sensible realization in the face of the quackery proposed by such ideas as being able to have a telepathic relationship with The Creator of the Universe.

I just happen to be a believer...against all odds...that it is possible and normal to have ongoing, private, personal and telepathic contact with...God.

My own mother insisted that I agree that my telepathic experiences with God were actually me having a conversation in my own mind...within my own mind.

The idea that it was an extant consciousness...that consciousness could exist outside of the cerebrum (AKA, the brain)...this idea really bugged her. And that her son could be so daft as to think that he was having real telepathic experiences...with God no less...well, that's a quick and sure ticket to the nutso-koo-koo ward, right?

Do I get it?
Yes, of course.
It does totally smack of piss.
(Oh, and by the way, the word piss is used in The Holy Bible...and not just once, either---but at least six times: 1 Samuel 25:22, 34; 1 Kings 14:10; 16:11; 21:21, and 2 Kings 9:8)

And I get how believing in God can seem like a final device to deal with the endless yawn of the universe...of existence...of being (seemingly) alive.

So...what is the point?

Are you, am I...supposed to search for meaning? Are we supposed to insert meaning into our lives...by following our own passions...our own aspirations?

Another point my mother liked to make to me was taken from a quote she really identified with---let's see if you resonate with this one:
“Be your own fool...not someone else's.”

Perhaps this is the greatest teaching...the power of personal choice.

And for many of us, this power of personal choice...and the inevitable consequences that flow from such a position of self-determination---is terrifying. And thus many of us “settle,” and defy our dreams and passions with the ordered set of things.

This can give cause to the expression of living lives of quiet desperation.

It is NOT easy to give up the pounding walk dictated by the forces of your immediate society---the group mind of your family circle---and the pressure from all around you to conform to the proscribed rituals and processions of a proper and correct life.

Especially when you become a Christian or a Muslim or a...whatever. And you self-define within a specific faith group. It is tempting NOT to push back against the forms and conventions that are the zenith of your time.

Imagine (if you will) that The Pope came out, and declared himself to be a homosexual?

Oh, by the way...that word is pronounced NOT as “ho-mow,” but as “ha-mow-sexual.”


It just doesn't fit, does it? I mean...The Pope coming out like that.

It doesn't sound like something that would ever happen...unlikely...because of the force of social convention within the belief system of the Catholic Church...let alone that the Holy Father might not be homosexual.

And anyway...whose business is it even if he was or is...a homosexual?

We know that even within the Catholic Church there are exceptions to the perceived “normal” of priests having to be celebate, unmarried men.

If you are seeking meaning to your life...wondering what it's all about...and what's the point---I sure get it.

Now, this might seem a bit stupid, and predictable---but it might be that the meaning in the meaninglessness is what you decide to put in to...it.

And you might have to start out with the bromides provided by other people to begin to form your own self-defense against the powerful incantations of other people's strongly held opinions.

There is a very old saying, “Don't let someone else steal your dream.”

This often happens when your dream is stolen away from you by someone who replaces your dream with their own dream.

Hey---often it can happen that you just don't have a dream of your own. Or that the dream you think you have is not a dream of your own making...but a dream that comes from somebody else.

And that somebody else maybe you...but the part of you that drives you to be NOT you, at all...but the preconceptions of what you should be because...of what your own EGO is prompting you to...believe about yourself, and what you can and cannot do with your life.

So...is “the point” to decide for yourself what the point is---even if that means deciding that there is NO point?

I know that for me, when God came knocking on my head, I sure wasn't looking for God to come knocking on my head. It just happened. I wasn't praying or meditating...oh-no. Exact opposite, actually.

Some of you have read about my account of my first bout with God Consciousness. It is NOT a unique story...I am NOT the first...and I sure won't be the last.

I do know that within the framework of “normal” society...of people...my experience is NOT normal. Or at least...not so publicly declared.

At any rate...one study states that 26% of Americans believe that they have been given a direct revelation from God.

So...here it is...I am definitely straying into the topic of telepathy. And if it is possible for people to communicate telepathically. And if it is, then it should be possible to study them...and put them through some critical evaluation, right?

Just saying...is all.
Anyway, I won't go on and on about this telepathy stuff. No. Instead, I'll send you a message via my mind...to you.
(Hey, I'm kidding, okay?)

Now for my closing remarks about the basic theme of this article, and that's, “What's the Point?”

I am inserting an excerpt from the book, “God Consciousness.” And this will flow nicely into the next article I am preparing---which is another in the series, “Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.”

See you there.

All the Best!
Robert Farmilo,
Translator, TGCP

PS-Make sure you get your copy of the book with this incredible special offer:







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