Well, gloria in excelsis deo; hereby is indicated a problem. I feel uncomfortable, embarrassed even it seems to say, Thanks God in foro externo, by which I mean in public. So why didn't I just say so? For thanking God seems, just, unme. I can do it in private, certainly, but it seems epaischunomai to euangelion, which isn't very good, at least to the imagined secular readership of this blog. Really, thanking God isn't cool. But fuck it like. Thanks, God. And the cause of my thanking is that - shock horror - today I finally went to the dentist, a task I've been putting off and fearing for months and less anxiously years, and things are ok! I need stuff to do, like, but nothing too drastic. Amazingly happy: I was certain that the original sin of my alcoholism was to reverberate throughout my life. That my mouth would be a window to ruined liver, kidneys, teeth. But it doesn't appear so. Now the scoffers would be moderately right to say, well, what's God got to do with the acid content of your mouth? Perhaps nothing, but should it be off hand ruled out? I'll admit it sounds stupid: why would he care about my mouth when all the tragedies etc. But I don't know: one hears oftentimes of new Christians finding things to fall in their lap in a strange way. Perhaps there is no correlation here: only those new Christians who happen to have something good happen mention it, but again, who knows. For with the premise that God exists, nothing except some common sense theology stands in one's way. But the more important point is that my belief that God was there to support me determined by going; my belief in God has kicked into touch the recalcitrant addictions, or at least improved them. We are heading here into pragmatic conception of truth here, and I'm hungry, so we'll stop.

An empty, empty, empty afternoon. My religiosity continues, albeit dubiously. For de omnibus dubitandum and mockedandum and not treatedforultimatelytrueandum, but religion requires that one shake off that postmodern coil n take some things serious. And you know, I'm very just like doubtful about everything, above all the existence of God. It's the same old problem, the eternal problem: do we, qua weak, come to God because we're weak or invent God therebecause? But it's really a function of the fact that i'm getting nothing, spiritually speaking: I feel nothing. Also, i don't give a dutch palm tree for eternal life, nor have I any fears re hell. A theophany would be nice. But for me I think it's a question of having like a personal, divine trainer: I want to have life, and have it to the full, not an eternal facsimile thereof, for let's face it, an eternal life with God is not like any life we know. Moreover, my track record seems to indicate that I can't do so: but is that fair? I made a moderately good effort, detailed in all its painful glory below, and came close. So perhaps my motives are wrong. But then so are alcoholics' etc, they just wanna screw the pooch of booze addiction in their addled pelts likes. Moreover, it says that God won't turn anyone away. I.e., if God exists, then he won't turn anyone away. I don't see to have been turned unaway, ergo God doesn't exist? Perhaps patience and, as Husserl would put it, an empty intending, awaiting fulfilment patiently. I've nothing else to do the summer anyway, and the change to flex my self-control muscle isn't to be sniffed at. But these are probably not the avenues of thought to be traversing, on account of the pascalinity.

Well, let's see. Back at home for c. a month, in peace. Several straggling addictions have been, it appears, curbed. And by what? Well, it seems, by God. Of course perhaps not: perhaps by me. Been reading and thinking through various matters religious. The problem of sin is still the problem that I have: I wrong you, and yet am forgiven not by making amends to you, but my being forgiven my God. An Aristotelian conception of sin: no relations, just properties of my. Now one interpretation is that it's both. That by wronging someone one qualifies them and oneself. One can then remove one's qualify but not the other's. It just seems unfair, does it not? That one can be a dick, hurt someone deeply, and then be forgiven, while the other continues to suffer. Exactly, unfair. But, does not the justice system operate according to the same presumption? Are we not looking, in this idea of punishment, precisely an eye for an eye? There are two different issues here: it's unfair because the wrongdoer isn't punished, it's unfair because the wrongdoee isn't comforted ( or better phrase). So, the ideal situation would be: I repent, then God rewards the other, sort of a psychical settlement. Why does this not occur? Ultimately we're back, it seems, to theodicy. Precisely to dice, dike. But we should disentangle the two ideas of punishment and settlement.