[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, turquoiseb wrote: > > --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, "wayback71" wrote: > > > > I read Sum, too. Amazing. I also particularly liked the > > chapter Quantum. > > Skipped ahead and read it. Spit my juice out laughing > at the end. :-) I know - just amazing ending and so true! > > > --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, turquoiseb wrote: > > > > > > Since everybody's talking about the afterlife lately, here are > > > a few excerpts from the smartest book I've read on the subject > > > in some time, David Eagleman's "Sum: Forty Tales From The > > > Afterlives." The second one got a laugh out of me when I > > > discovered it today because only yesterday I proposed a > > > similar scenario. > > > > > > > > > Sum > > > > > > In the afterlife you relive all your experiences, but this time with > > > the events reshuffled into a new order: all the moments that share a > > > quality are grouped together. > > > > > > You spend two months driving the street in front of your house, seven > > > months having sex. You sleep for thirty years without opening your > > > eyes. For five months straight you flip through magazines while sitting > > > on a toilet. > > > > > > You take all your pain at once, all twenty-seven intense hours of it. > > > Bones break, cars crash, skin is cut, babies are born. Once you make it > > > through, it's agony-free for the rest of your afterlife. > > > > > > But that doesn't mean it's always pleasant. You spend six days > > > clipping your nails. Fifteen months looking for lost items. Eighteen > > > months waiting in > > > line. Two years of boredom: staring out a bus window, sitting in an > > > airport terminal. One year reading books. Your eyes hurt, and you itch, > > > because you can't take a shower until it's your time to take > > > your marathon two-hundred-day shower. Two weeks wondering what happens > > > when you die. One minute realizing your body is falling. Seventy-seven > > > hours of confusion. One hour realizing you've forgotten > > > someone's name. Three weeks realizing you are wrong. Two days > > > lying. Six weeks waiting for a green light. Seven hours vomiting. > > > Fourteen minutes experiencing pure joy. Three months doing laundry. > > > Fifteen hours writing your signature. Two days tying shoelaces. > > > Sixty-seven days of heartbreak. Five weeks driving lost. Three days > > > calculating restaurant tips. Fifty-one days deciding what to wear. Nine > > > days pretending you know what is being talked about. Two weeks counting > > > money. Eighteen days staring into the refrigerator. Thirty-four days > > > longing. Six months watching commercials. Four weeks sitting in > > > thought, wondering if there is something better you could be doing with > > > your time. Three years swallowing food. Five days working buttons and > > > zippers. Four minutes wondering what your life would be like if you > > > reshuffled the order of events. In this part of the afterlife, you > > > imagine something analogous to your Earthly life, and the thought is > > > blissful: a life where episodes are split into tiny swallowable pieces, > > > where moments do not endure, where one experiences the joy of jumping > > > from one event to the next like a child hopping from spot to spot on > > > the burning sand. > > > > > > Egalitaire > > > > > > In the afterlife you discover that God understands the complexities of > > > life. She had originally submitted to peer pressure when She structured > > > Her universe like all the other gods had, with a binary categorization > > > of people into good and evil. But it didn't take long for Her to > > > realize that humans could be good in many ways and simultaneously > > > corrupt and meanspirited in other ways. How was She to arbitrate who > > > goes to Heaven and who to Hell? Might not it be possible, She > > > considered, that a man could be an embezzler and still give to > > > charitable causes? Might not a woman be an adulteress but bring > > > pleasure and security to two men's lives? Might not a child > > > unwittingly divulge secrets that splinter a family? Dividing the > > > population into two categoriesgood and badseemed like a more > > > reasonable task when She was younger, but with experience these > > > decisions became more difficult. She composed complex formulas to weigh > > > hundreds of factors, and ran computer programs that rolled out long > > > strips of paper with eternal decisions. But Her sensitivities revolted > > > at this automationand when the computer generated a decision She > > > disagreed with, She took the opportunity to kick out the plug in rage. > > > That afternoon She listened to the grievances of the dead from two > > > warring nations. Both sides had suffered, both sides had legitimate > > > grievances, both pled their cases earnestly. She covered Her ears and > > > moaned in misery. She knew
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
"I'll accomplish this by incarnating in a world where humor is considered to be on a far higher plane than being serious..." But Barry, most folks ALREADY laugh at you here. Isn't that blissful enough? :-) --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, turquoiseb wrote: > > --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, tartbrain wrote: > > > > > Descent of Species > > > > > > In the afterlife, you are treated to a generous opportunity: > > > you can choose whatever you would like to be in the next life. > > > Would you like to be a member of the opposite sex? Born into > > > royalty? A philosopher with bottomless profundity? A soldier > > > facing triumphant battles? > > > > > > But perhaps you've just returned here from a hard life. > > > Perhaps you were tortured by the enormity of the decisions and > > > responsibilities that surrounded you, and now there's only one > > > thing you yearn for: simplicity. ... > > > > Assuming such mechanics, what would you all chose to be in > > the next life? > > Since we all know that Judy will take her obsession > with me to the grave and beyond, into the next life, > I'd like to be so inaccessible that she is unable to > find me, and spends the entire incarnation not only > obsessed but frustrated in that obsession. > > I'll accomplish this by incarnating in a world where > humor is considered to be on a far higher plane than > being serious, and where no one ever is tempted to be > "taken seriously" or to be considered an "authority." > The very existence of such a world would trigger so > many aversion reactions in her that she'd avoid it > like the plague. >
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, tartbrain wrote: > Assuming such mechanics, what would you all chose to be in > the next life? Either an opera singer or the owner of a horse farm. Seriously.
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, tartbrain wrote: > > > Descent of Species > > > > In the afterlife, you are treated to a generous opportunity: > > you can choose whatever you would like to be in the next life. > > Would you like to be a member of the opposite sex? Born into > > royalty? A philosopher with bottomless profundity? A soldier > > facing triumphant battles? > > > > But perhaps you've just returned here from a hard life. > > Perhaps you were tortured by the enormity of the decisions and > > responsibilities that surrounded you, and now there's only one > > thing you yearn for: simplicity. ... > > Assuming such mechanics, what would you all chose to be in > the next life? Since we all know that Judy will take her obsession with me to the grave and beyond, into the next life, I'd like to be so inaccessible that she is unable to find me, and spends the entire incarnation not only obsessed but frustrated in that obsession. I'll accomplish this by incarnating in a world where humor is considered to be on a far higher plane than being serious, and where no one ever is tempted to be "taken seriously" or to be considered an "authority." The very existence of such a world would trigger so many aversion reactions in her that she'd avoid it like the plague.
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, turquoiseb wrote: > > Since everybody's talking about the afterlife lately, here are a few > excerpts from the smartest book I've read on the subject in some time, > David Eagleman's "Sum: Forty Tales From The Afterlives." The second one > got a laugh out of me when I discovered it today because only yesterday > I proposed a similar scenario. > > > > Descent of Species > > In the afterlife, you are treated to a generous opportunity: you can > choose whatever you would like to be in the next life. Would you like to > be a member of the opposite sex? Born into royalty? A philosopher with > bottomless profundity? A soldier facing triumphant battles? > > But perhaps you've just returned here from a hard life. Perhaps you > were tortured by the enormity of the decisions and responsibilities > that surrounded you, and now there's only one thing you yearn for: > simplicity. ... Assuming such mechanics, what would you all chose to be in the next life?
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, "wayback71" wrote: > > I read Sum, too. Amazing. I also particularly liked the > chapter Quantum. Skipped ahead and read it. Spit my juice out laughing at the end. :-) > --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, turquoiseb wrote: > > > > Since everybody's talking about the afterlife lately, here are > > a few excerpts from the smartest book I've read on the subject > > in some time, David Eagleman's "Sum: Forty Tales From The > > Afterlives." The second one got a laugh out of me when I > > discovered it today because only yesterday I proposed a > > similar scenario. > > > > > > Sum > > > > In the afterlife you relive all your experiences, but this time with > > the events reshuffled into a new order: all the moments that share a > > quality are grouped together. > > > > You spend two months driving the street in front of your house, seven > > months having sex. You sleep for thirty years without opening your > > eyes. For five months straight you flip through magazines while sitting > > on a toilet. > > > > You take all your pain at once, all twenty-seven intense hours of it. > > Bones break, cars crash, skin is cut, babies are born. Once you make it > > through, it's agony-free for the rest of your afterlife. > > > > But that doesn't mean it's always pleasant. You spend six days > > clipping your nails. Fifteen months looking for lost items. Eighteen > > months waiting in > > line. Two years of boredom: staring out a bus window, sitting in an > > airport terminal. One year reading books. Your eyes hurt, and you itch, > > because you can't take a shower until it's your time to take > > your marathon two-hundred-day shower. Two weeks wondering what happens > > when you die. One minute realizing your body is falling. Seventy-seven > > hours of confusion. One hour realizing you've forgotten > > someone's name. Three weeks realizing you are wrong. Two days > > lying. Six weeks waiting for a green light. Seven hours vomiting. > > Fourteen minutes experiencing pure joy. Three months doing laundry. > > Fifteen hours writing your signature. Two days tying shoelaces. > > Sixty-seven days of heartbreak. Five weeks driving lost. Three days > > calculating restaurant tips. Fifty-one days deciding what to wear. Nine > > days pretending you know what is being talked about. Two weeks counting > > money. Eighteen days staring into the refrigerator. Thirty-four days > > longing. Six months watching commercials. Four weeks sitting in > > thought, wondering if there is something better you could be doing with > > your time. Three years swallowing food. Five days working buttons and > > zippers. Four minutes wondering what your life would be like if you > > reshuffled the order of events. In this part of the afterlife, you > > imagine something analogous to your Earthly life, and the thought is > > blissful: a life where episodes are split into tiny swallowable pieces, > > where moments do not endure, where one experiences the joy of jumping > > from one event to the next like a child hopping from spot to spot on > > the burning sand. > > > > Egalitaire > > > > In the afterlife you discover that God understands the complexities of > > life. She had originally submitted to peer pressure when She structured > > Her universe like all the other gods had, with a binary categorization > > of people into good and evil. But it didn't take long for Her to > > realize that humans could be good in many ways and simultaneously > > corrupt and meanspirited in other ways. How was She to arbitrate who > > goes to Heaven and who to Hell? Might not it be possible, She > > considered, that a man could be an embezzler and still give to > > charitable causes? Might not a woman be an adulteress but bring > > pleasure and security to two men's lives? Might not a child > > unwittingly divulge secrets that splinter a family? Dividing the > > population into two categoriesgood and badseemed like a more > > reasonable task when She was younger, but with experience these > > decisions became more difficult. She composed complex formulas to weigh > > hundreds of factors, and ran computer programs that rolled out long > > strips of paper with eternal decisions. But Her sensitivities revolted > > at this automationand when the computer generated a decision She > > disagreed with, She took the opportunity to kick out the plug in rage. > > That afternoon She listened to the grievances of the dead from two > > warring nations. Both sides had suffered, both sides had legitimate > > grievances, both pled their cases earnestly. She covered Her ears and > > moaned in misery. She knew Her humans were multidimensional, and She > > could no longer live under the rigid architecture of Her youthful > > choices. > > > > Not all gods suffer over this; we can consider ourselves lucky that in > > death we answer to a God with deep sensitivity to the byzanti
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, "Xenophaneros Anartaxius" wrote: > > > > As I died, things seemed to fade out and then> The cell phone you were texting this message on fell out of your hand. That pretty Dominican nurse who used to kindly flirt with you in your last days picked up the phone from the floor and hit "send". >
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
Looks like you two geniuses got it all figured out. Congrats! --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, Vaj wrote: > > > On May 24, 2011, at 6:49 AM, turquoiseb wrote: > > > > > Since everybody's talking about the afterlife lately, here are a > > few excerpts from the smartest book I've read on the subject in > > some time, David Eagleman's "Sum: Forty Tales From The Afterlives." > > The second one got a laugh out of me when I discovered it today > > because only yesterday I proposed a similar scenario. > > > > > From Vic Stenger (the guy who debunked Maharishi's Vedic Quantum BS): > > Why out-of-body and near-death experiences don't prove God > > Alex Lickerman is a physician at the University of Chicago who, until > recently, was in charge of all primary care doctors at the hospital > (he's now head of student health). In "The neurology of near-death > experiences", he debunks the religious trappings that attach to the > "out-of-body" and similar experiences that occur in conjunction with > operations and medical episodes. >
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
As I died, things seemed to fade out and then
[FairfieldLife] Re: Tales From The Afterlife
I read Sum, too. Amazing. I also particularly liked the chapter Quantum. --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, turquoiseb wrote: > > Since everybody's talking about the afterlife lately, here are a few > excerpts from the smartest book I've read on the subject in some time, > David Eagleman's "Sum: Forty Tales From The Afterlives." The second one > got a laugh out of me when I discovered it today because only yesterday > I proposed a similar scenario. > > > Sum > > In the afterlife you relive all your experiences, but this time with > the events reshuffled into a new order: all the moments that share a > quality are grouped together. > > You spend two months driving the street in front of your house, seven > months having sex. You sleep for thirty years without opening your > eyes. For five months straight you flip through magazines while sitting > on a toilet. > > You take all your pain at once, all twenty-seven intense hours of it. > Bones break, cars crash, skin is cut, babies are born. Once you make it > through, it's agony-free for the rest of your afterlife. > > But that doesn't mean it's always pleasant. You spend six days > clipping your nails. Fifteen months looking for lost items. Eighteen > months waiting in > line. Two years of boredom: staring out a bus window, sitting in an > airport terminal. One year reading books. Your eyes hurt, and you itch, > because you can't take a shower until it's your time to take > your marathon two-hundred-day shower. Two weeks wondering what happens > when you die. One minute realizing your body is falling. Seventy-seven > hours of confusion. One hour realizing you've forgotten > someone's name. Three weeks realizing you are wrong. Two days > lying. Six weeks waiting for a green light. Seven hours vomiting. > Fourteen minutes experiencing pure joy. Three months doing laundry. > Fifteen hours writing your signature. Two days tying shoelaces. > Sixty-seven days of heartbreak. Five weeks driving lost. Three days > calculating restaurant tips. Fifty-one days deciding what to wear. Nine > days pretending you know what is being talked about. Two weeks counting > money. Eighteen days staring into the refrigerator. Thirty-four days > longing. Six months watching commercials. Four weeks sitting in > thought, wondering if there is something better you could be doing with > your time. Three years swallowing food. Five days working buttons and > zippers. Four minutes wondering what your life would be like if you > reshuffled the order of events. In this part of the afterlife, you > imagine something analogous to your Earthly life, and the thought is > blissful: a life where episodes are split into tiny swallowable pieces, > where moments do not endure, where one experiences the joy of jumping > from one event to the next like a child hopping from spot to spot on > the burning sand. > > Egalitaire > > In the afterlife you discover that God understands the complexities of > life. She had originally submitted to peer pressure when She structured > Her universe like all the other gods had, with a binary categorization > of people into good and evil. But it didn't take long for Her to > realize that humans could be good in many ways and simultaneously > corrupt and meanspirited in other ways. How was She to arbitrate who > goes to Heaven and who to Hell? Might not it be possible, She > considered, that a man could be an embezzler and still give to > charitable causes? Might not a woman be an adulteress but bring > pleasure and security to two men's lives? Might not a child > unwittingly divulge secrets that splinter a family? Dividing the > population into two categoriesgood and badseemed like a more > reasonable task when She was younger, but with experience these > decisions became more difficult. She composed complex formulas to weigh > hundreds of factors, and ran computer programs that rolled out long > strips of paper with eternal decisions. But Her sensitivities revolted > at this automationand when the computer generated a decision She > disagreed with, She took the opportunity to kick out the plug in rage. > That afternoon She listened to the grievances of the dead from two > warring nations. Both sides had suffered, both sides had legitimate > grievances, both pled their cases earnestly. She covered Her ears and > moaned in misery. She knew Her humans were multidimensional, and She > could no longer live under the rigid architecture of Her youthful > choices. > > Not all gods suffer over this; we can consider ourselves lucky that in > death we answer to a God with deep sensitivity to the byzantine hearts > of Her creations. For months She moped around Her living room in > Heaven, head drooped like a bulrush, while the lines piled up. Her > advisors advised Her to delegate the decision making, but She loved Her > humans too much to leave them to the care of anyone else. > > In a moment of de
