Alchemy.

I have the New Testament here beside me, and I need to read through it again carefully. But, as with Judaism, much of the religion comes from the people who are followers, as in the Talmud. With Christianity, a lot comes from the Christian Church, stemming from the New Testament. But anyway, I say this: even though I have read it, as with the Old Testament, it is a little mystical in that you aren’t sure what you’re reading. It’s a task of trying to understand the meaning and purpose of what the text actually is—the true nature of it.

But anyway, I’ve said this because I am about to put forward a critique. I don’t think Christianity is the solution to the problem of our society. I think religion and God are the answer, absolutely and always, and the good we know of from Christianity and Islam comes from human goodness—devotion and dedication.

Judaism is quite different; it doesn’t give a doctrine like the other two. To become a Jew, you must study a lot and engage in philosophy. If Judaism is the Old Testament alone, then I think it is good, and likewise with the other two, if the text is helpful. But the text of the Old Testament is much more philosophical and complex compared to the New Testament. Anyway, let’s leave Judaism alone for now and explore that later.

My drive for this critique is the suffering I see in my fellow man, and the failure to fix it, as with Shia LaBeouf. I see a man who has spent so much on Christianity, and he’s had the best money can buy. And there are countless people with a story of being saved by Christ and Christianity who also come to fail again. A positive point is that I think it has given them something, a vital thing—a lifeline, perhaps: a vague belief in God. Through Christianity, they’ve realised God exists, and it changes their lives. In Christianity, a common thing people say is that they’ve realised God is a loving God. Both these realisations are great things to discover.

But I once heard a joke by Manly P. Hall, who said that many such people who are reborn and renewed—who have found Christ, the Lord—have to be reborn again the next year and the next. That was the pun, and it was funny to hear it, but it highlights a significant problem.

As with that man I mentioned buying the best of Christianity one can buy, I mean that he had such amazing socialisation: meeting great figures in the faith, attending great teams, etc. As a rich celebrity and a genuine guy, he was met with such great and graceful open arms. And yet, not too long afterwards, he was lost and completely worse off.

You could say this is a matter of the individual, not the religion. But it isn’t so. Christianity works for the moderate person who is doing okay, and it gives that little extra dynamic of life, and hope and a vague faith. It can be the icing on the cake for many. But for the person who is lost, or the person who wants to self-develop, even from a mediocre and moderate starting point, i.e. not unwell, it isn’t the answer. And I know it isn’t the answer because I know the reality of the situation.

First of all, Christ, for the most part, is probably symbolic. Believing in Christ is a way of saying that one cannot fathom God, nor claim to know of him. In that case, it’s logical. But that is not the Christian view. In the literal understanding, there was a human—he was the Son of God, whatever that even means—and all of these things happened. It’s a story, but what does it mean? He died for our sins so that we can go to heaven and be forgiven, so it represents God’s mercy and humanity, if you like. I lose sight of it because it is so complex as a symbolic text, allegorical or esoteric. Most people do not think of it like that.

Now here is my critique, finally.

The truth will set you free. Follow Socrates and become a philosopher and a religious philosopher. What does ‘God’ actually mean? This is where to begin.

God 1: A power or force, perhaps the only power or force, supernatural, watching over and/or within everything, including us. A higher being than us. (The most basic concept of God.)

God 2: The same as God 1, but this God also controls things, or can—perhaps sometimes, perhaps absolutely everything.

God 3: The same as God 2, but ‘it’ is also moralistic, as we know morality.

God 4: Similar to God 3, but conceived as a set of laws, including physics. Not a relationship of bargaining and discourse.

God 5: Many variations, all differing in what each god likes and dislikes, approves of and disapproves of.

And so we realise that the famous question, ‘Do you believe in God?’, is actually complicated. It may have been simpler a couple of hundred years ago regarding aspects of life, with fewer variations as in God 5. For instance, Catholics in medieval times probably shared the majority of ideas about God, in the same way that people following Islam do now in countries ruled by Islam. But still, regarding small and subtle things, each man’s god may differ. Because it is the specifics of what God allows and doesn’t allow that amount to what a person believes in—their good.

God 6: The Good. It is similar to God 4, more like moral laws, but it is not necessarily tied to supernatural systems. A person can believe in Good, and this belief system can be the same as God 5, but it is framed differently, because they can both share the same principle of what is acceptable and what isn’t acceptable. The only difference is that God 4 involves believing that a supernatural system or force is enforcing those laws accordingly. God 6 doesn’t consider that.

This God 6 is a good idea to remember when we speak of these phrases:

Spiritual but not religious (God 1).

Religious but not spiritual (God 6).

My written and spoken philosophy is mostly from the position of God 6. Sometimes God 5 is cited under the Socratic premise of ‘maybe’. But, if the truth be told here, my belief and concept of God is God 5.

We’ve gone a little way off our subject, which was Christianity, and then truth, and then God.

It’s firstly important to understand or figure out what exactly you mean by the word ‘God’. In philosophical fashion, you’d have to explain why or how you believe in such a thing. We must question what we believe in. And ‘believe’ is a complex word.

I propose there are two kinds of belief. One is the furthest end of ‘I think’, a kind of guess or estimation and calculation. I think it’s about 5 km away. I think she is 5 ft 5. I think I left it in the bathroom. Belief in this sense is when we are very confident in the guess. However, it is the case that we can truly and genuinely believe that we locked a door or did something, but actually we have misremembered and did not do it.

The other kind of belief is a matter of hope and want. It isn’t quite the 99%-sure guess of the other kind. Rationally, it’s 50/50, or it can be lower or higher, but it is rounded up to 100% with our hope and want—making it a belief. It is certainly different in that it isn’t rational logic, but is instead emotional and sentimental.

We must ask ourselves what the nature of our belief is. Some people’s belief in God is rationalistic, in that it’s a matter of what they’ve seen and understood. But when the dust settles, I think it’s the case that there is always a question mark. Our minds are fragile and prone to error, and once it’s not in front of us any more—once we are relying on memory—there is room for doubt. And if you truly want to be a philosopher, you build your foundation on absolute certainty—mathematical standards of logic.

What do I believe?

Humility is a great thing and a good thing. The admission of “I don’t know” may seem like an act of lukewarmness in matters of faith, or perhaps it seems an overly negative kind of doubt, a weakness and lack of faith. But I assure you it is not, and instead it is a matter of a Godly trait: humility. And humility here aligns with truth. Humility—not knowing and knowing you don’t know—is a good thing in and of itself, but also, as Socrates said, this was his key beginning: “The only thing I know is that I don’t know anything.”

We have to develop a thinking style like that of a conversation between two people—you and me. The prosecution and the defence are always a good example too. And that should be how we think in these matters: we must argue with ourselves like we would with another.

What do you believe in? God? What does that mean exactly? If someone says that the Bible was written by God, or that Jesus was the son or some form of God, the question is: how do you know this? Perhaps you’ll say you don’t know how you know, but you know that you know. Another one was that Jesus died for our sins. And in Judaism, they say that God spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai.

There are two important things to be said here. The first is the point that you or I don’t know these things. I think all of it is hearsay, for starters, i.e. we read it or heard it. But that doesn’t make it any less or more true. The metric for that is how much sense it makes and the truth of our experience. The humble mind can accept and admit that they don’t know these things. And so don’t let a false confidence be the foundation of your belief system. Now the second thing, the second-best thing I can offer you, is the beautiful word: “Maybe.”

Maybe these things happened. Maybe that’s how it is. I called it beautiful because I have come to realise that this is a great choice and accomplishment of the person: to say maybe these things did happen. Don’t be in the group of people who are equally erroneous in saying that it didn’t happen. They don’t know it didn’t happen.

An interesting personal psychological point here is: if it didn’t happen, then what? What would that mean for me? And if it did happen, then what? What would that mean for me? And now that it is undecided, what does that mean for me?

Another direct question is: does God exist?

Well, as I’ve written elsewhere, we need to elaborate on what is meant by the word “God”. Yet regardless, the point here is that the answer to all of them is “Maybe.”

Fear not; do not lose heart. I am a man who has seen God with my very eyes—so to speak. For me, the way I say it, there is no maybe. I believe what I believe. I know what I saw and see. But the reason for the maybe is that, in conversation, we must acknowledge the technical possibility that we could be wrong, but we would put our lives on it that we are not.

And so I suppose this begs the question: what is so significant or necessary about this admission, this Socratic ridiculousness of saying, “Okay, I admit it: the sun may not rise tomorrow”? It’s a good question. The answer is: because we are establishing a mind that is logically sound amongst our peers, to the rest of the universe, and the mind must be able to follow this logic of proofs and rationale and logic.

Perhaps it is irrelevant to this particular subject, but as a reasoner, this development of the mind is key for all other matters. The mind must be able to reason objectively—aside from personal belief—and at least acknowledge the way of thinking which is in the middle space between two people.

It also highlights something to us: that the nature of our belief is individualist, and we must reckon with the problem of trying to argue the case for what we believe to someone else without personal experience. If the person has not had that, one must argue at the level of logic and rationale—objectivity.

So do not lose hope that I am in some kind of doubt. It’s difficult because I know the feeling beyond logic and rationale, proof, when we say we know that God is real. But in the quiet darkness of doubt, there is the philosophical possibility that you are somehow wrong.

Another key point of importance here comes from the fact that this admission can be a terrifying concept, and also it seems to go against your loved one, like unfaithfulness. But here is the word so important: faith. This is the nature of what faith is and how it is built, and trust, hope and devotion: the willingness and choice to believe—even when one can no longer see it. It’s a significant act in the alchemical world.

Another serious point is that it is important to overcome fear, sometimes for the sake of overcoming fear, especially intellectual fear, but also because sometimes it is the fear that stops us going beyond and deep into the meaning and reality of the thing. Meanwhile, it actually isn’t an instance of lack of faith or doubt if you are nonetheless devoted to “Good”.

As a human being, this is the situation: we don’t “know” things bigger than ourselves. My mother once said that if God is real, then he may have one important rule: that humans can never know that he’s there or that heaven exists.

Why? Because people would depend on him too much, like a weakened child, and people would run to him all too easily. And also because it is said that life is a test or a training—growing experience—and with the knowledge of God, we would not become what we need to become, which we will without the certain knowledge of God.

We must create it and establish it anyway. Why? Because we must love Good and Justice—God’s law—above all and always. Let us bring heaven upon earth.

But we don’t need to think only about these theoretical propositions. The main thing we want to do is build the foundation of our house of brick and stone: solid, nothing that can be blown away or shaken. And so we want to think about our belief in a way that there is no doubt, or, better to say, no argument against it.

Aside from arguing with a non-believer, it is also applicable that we must argue against the cynic and doubter deep down in us. By establishing the indestructible foundation, this is what creates a mind and heart with no anxiety: the security of truth, humility and righteousness. Anxiety comes from dogma.

And so what is God? What do I believe in? What do I know? Me, Adam Russell.

I, like most of us, believe in God, which is a law and order in the universe, and a God who is the creator or being or force behind that law. I believe there is no other such thing. I believe in God, a concept as the father and mother of all beings. I don’t know the nature of reality, the material or the spiritual, or how to word it.

And that’s what God is for me. I believe God and his law want us to evolve into angels: pure, true, kind. And I believe there are many ways, ethics and practices that we must do and not do to become that, i.e. no drugs, no contraception, no eating animals, no cruelty, and so on. This is my belief. I feel it in my gut and my heart. It makes sense to me. It’s like a truth I can see with my mind, with the third eye—not anything sensory—but it’s something my logic and reasoning have concluded.

If someone asked me, though, “Do I know for sure that this is the case? Is it possible none of this is so?”, my heart and my gut would say I am sure. And we should follow both. But, like I said, in the quiet darkness of night, in pure rationale, there exists a philosophical doubt. Usually this is associated with a moment of losing hope or faith, but not always. Because here’s how it goes. The question is put to me: “How do you know? Admit you don’t!”

Before I continue with this point, I want to add how I know, but which is still subject to doubt because we are human beings, relying on the soundness of our minds and systems.

For me, I began to see God internally and externally. I began to see the justice at work. I began to see that people paid the price for justice and injustice, and the reckoning as alluded to in Genesis. And like laws of physics, we see that things work a certain way, causes and effects, and in all of this is revealed life’s desire, life’s character, what it wants, what it favours and what it doesn’t like.

And with this law, I began to wonder at it with my intellect and reasoning, logic, and it made sense that it is an evolution towards the best type of beings. Of course they’d be fair; unfairness is like stupidity, the opposite of evolution. Justice and fairness aren’t simply dividing the spoils; it’s a matter of understanding who deserves what and why, according not to the reasoner but to the overall collective and unity of life.

And so it made sense. It clicked. And yet the evidence I speak of was primarily these laws occurring and working in myself. Feelings deep down worked like pain and pleasure, all to the effect of pushing me this way or that way—towards righteousness. And luckily, I was philosophical enough to deal with all the deal-breakers, all the critiques which break a person’s belief—theory of the Good God: why do children die? Why so much suffering? Etc.

And so I have perceived all this. My belief is 100% because of the sight and logic of it, and not due to faith and hope like most. But my mind and reason are all human, and let’s say, for argument’s sake, that the mind cannot be trusted, even though my sense of the truth is perhaps beyond the mind.

But anyway, it is a valid argument, though mostly from outside, i.e. another person. But like I said, we must allow the question from another, as we are a society, and in a dark moment I admit: maybe I’m wrong.

And maybe you’ll understand that, in the same breath, there is something inside me that rejects this idea of it not being true. And it isn’t through fear, my world collapsing and so on. There isn’t a fear. I am ready for a rest, and my theories about the afterlife anyway include the possibility of myself no longer existing. Perhaps my soul returns to the collective soul.

I didn’t lose faith or hope or composure in this admission. As I’ve said, I can’t unsee what I’ve seen. I can’t not understand what I now understand. But for argument’s sake, I admit my belief or knowledge is perhaps dependent on the soundness of myself, and therefore there is a possibility it is not so.

So I had to think about this, and I wanted to figure out: what do I believe in with all my heart and my mind? What can I swear to that is unquestionable, undeniable?

And I discovered it: I believe in Good. Good is something that I live for and will die for, even if it isn’t a universal law, even if there isn’t a force or higher power behind this. I know that I love this, that I’ll die for it and live for it. And this is what I believe in.

And the reason I say it isn’t actually a moment of loss of faith to admit this is because, actually, we are still, in practice and in principle, devoted to the same thing, whether it be supernatural, all-powerful, universal or not.

If God is a law or a force, and a person doesn’t believe in such a thing—the supernatural—and that person is an atheist, then an atheist can still believe in the same thing as me. We can be of the same religion, because this is the most important thing of all. This is God. This is what a humble human needs to conceive. The Good.

A person can believe and pray to a higher force, a creator, the powers that be. He can have full dialogues and receive all kinds of gifts via manifestation. This is not the God I know. Perhaps it is him, or it, but perhaps it isn’t.

Our Fellow Creatures

We haven’t done well with those who are even slightly different from ourselves. It is easily demonstrated and proven that we humans can be quite disconnected and unconcerned about things which feel far away—whether that be physical distance or psychologically as with identity. There is a long list of horrible things we have done to each other because of a difference between us. I think of the Christians who burnt and tortured each other. But there are more subtle examples among current society. It has been observed in my own experience how a local community can have difficult feelings toward that which is different—and even in people with a good nature and decency and kindness, yet they almost coil or shy away in apprehension at that which they perceive as different. What we are not saying is that this is completely irrational or illogical. And perhaps it is in some sense well-founded sometimes in some cases, but nonetheless it is without doubt it is a fault of ours. It is an inability to see the brotherhood between us, the kinship among us, and the sameness of identity between us and other beings: the living spirit.

This point is made here because it is precisely this which allows the man to hunt and kill the other animal, to subjugate it to a harsh life for our own benefit, to slaughter the cow to serve it up on our plate, and take so much pleasure in it. The man’s morality is sound yet his conceptualisation is wrong. He sees the animal as not human, which it isn’t, and he sees it as humane and not inhumane to do such things. He doesn’t identify with it—as an animal, a fellow creature, one of God’s magnificent creatures which crawl the earth, breathing—living, experiencing. It’s actually a ridiculous ask for many who would even fail to relate to the African or Asian.

The question is: Where do you want to place yourself on this spectrum of empathy and friendliness? I can promise you that there is a correct way of life which sees the similarity and shared identity between all living creatures. It doesn’t mean we want to be their friend or have them live with us, but it does mean that it is inhumane to treat them cruelly—without empathy—without respect of life. Live and let live. Yet we are the masters of the Garden, the gardeners of the master, and so we may have to impose conditions for their well-being, for others’ well-being, and for the good of the Garden, but each is entitled to a shared level of respect for their livelihood. Our friendliness and empathy need to be extended to all which are different, even if dramatically different, yet we must look past this and see a life—a person, so to speak, a being—and we ought to want the best for it, as we want it for ourselves. It is the child of our society whose compassion is limited to those whom he feels very similar to, especially physically.

You may wonder: what good is all of this supposed transformation of our mind and self? Sometimes we must consider ourselves as a small town or even a house—a family, this little planet of ours—and who knows: some other people—greater than ourselves and moreover more significant and of great consequence, perhaps even some superpower alien or God himself as some kind of force—the point is: one day they may pay us a visit or check in on our small humble home—to see how we are. And when we think of what kind of being something is and consider its nature, we can ask: is it a kind of being who will kill and consume other beings simply for its own benefit or pleasure, or even: is it a being who thinks it is okay to interrupt and damage another being’s life—for no good reason other than its own gain, to end that life even, totally unprovoked and uninvited.

A separate point here is that it is not necessary—there is another way, albeit seemingly risky to our optimal physical health, perhaps it is somewhat worse in some way, e.g. we may be less physically strong as a result. This other way is, of course, the life of a vegetarian/vegan. We point out this necessary element because there is a discussion to be had around what is right and wrong if a human being or our society as a whole, let’s say, is to be stranded on an island, let’s say, a desert island, and there is no vegetation, just our companion animal friend. Is it the right thing to do to eat the animal to continue our life? Would that animal willingly sacrifice itself for life to continue, to be food for the society—it and its generations? I think the answer seems to be yes—but it’s complicated because this morality is born in an illogical hypothetical. We know the world is blessed with vegetation, and such has not been the case that the whole society depends on one situation.

The other decision would be to say: no, we will not do this inhumane thing; we will die accordingly, especially if the entirety of existence doesn’t depend upon it, but a human being asks: does my entire life depend on it? If it does, then I am taking the life of another; such is his desire to live. But what if there is some heavenly gate upon death and directly opposite it—the gates of hell, and all rests upon this decision: is it right to kill to sustain oneself, or is it fair and respectful of rights to not do so, whatever the cognitive level of the other? A wicked and great test for all souls.

And referring back to the eye of the universe watching us—perhaps a being is good or bad depending on this one difference—this understanding and principle of fairness and objectivity—universalism of mind, as opposed to selfishness—a subjective—biased mind. It sounds so complicated and heavy when we think about this concept—a heaven or hell test, possibly the case or not, but I say this: It is all so very simple. It is a simple lesson and instruction: Eat that which is food, not that which is a living being like yourself.

The main idea to recognise here is that a chicken, or a fish, or a pig, or a cow, it is a ‘being’, a creature, something which, like ourselves, roams the world looking for food, looking for comfort, looking for a mate, looking to produce a new creature, living out its years. They poo and pee, interact with others—sometimes good, sometimes bad, and they have wants and fears like us. We are all creatures, surviving—living, and visually seeing the world with our own eyes in our own mind. There is a divine commonality between us, and a child of God in all of us.

It may be difficult to do so, but one must try to take on that old adage which says: I am reverent before all that is called life, a life force that is the light in the mass blackness of space around us, but moreover, we must look upon the life force which becomes alive in a whole different sense: the creatures of the earth. The beautiful trees and flowers, the sparkling sun and the mystical waters are beautiful in contrast to the nothingness of the empty black mass in which it is planted, but it is nothing by comparison to the miracle of the creature amongst such nature, with its intelligence and consciousness, opening its eyes, its free movement, seeing and hearing, deciding.

And yet a most striking statement is that not only can these beings acknowledge the world around them, but they can also recognise and respond to you and me, i.e. to its fellow creatures. They let us know that we are a part of something other than ourselves. Not simply a flower in its cycles, but instead a self-determining creature that thinks and chooses each moment where it will go—physically and mentally. Life is not simply happening to it, rather it is happening to life, it is imposing itself on nature.

And so: We are all creatures, the little mouse, the even smaller ant, there is something of a living soul in us—a livelihood—a so-called desire to live. We are independent of the natural world—literally, we move along on our feet—tied to nothing, separate from the soil and land, and more to the point, there is the phenomenon of the conscious presence of mind which is the experience of being alive; hence the aversion of pain and death.

A plant, it has no metaphorical mountain to climb nor desert to traverse, no forage to commence, in other words: no wins or losses, no fear and no joy, no success nor failure, a plant is a part of nature. No plant is free to go wherever it pleases, and therefore it cannot make a mistake. The plant grows from the ground and is in fact a part of the ground, it is not released or disconnected, it is fed by the earth and sky, but not us. We are born of our mother, and father, separate from nature. Our fate depends, at least in some sense—on the steps we take. We human beings are the most advanced and cleverest creatures of them all, but nonetheless we are a creature.

Again, it’s difficult to do, but we can imagine ourselves being born as any of God’s creatures, and yes that life may be grim, boring, simple, and short, but in some sense it is the same thing at a basic level—we will try to prosper, we will try to survive.

A simple little thought experiment is to imagine ourselves alone in the world or universe, nothing but ourselves. Perhaps there are trees and oceans, mountains and winds, but we are the only living creature there. And then imagine along comes a little ant or shrew. How do you think it would be for our internal world? Would there then be a society of sorts? Would there then be a companion? The answer is yes, there would, because here is the significant thing about it: this little thing is a creature, just like we are, an animated—animal—thinking thing—perhaps zero intellect, but it does indeed think—decide. The spirit of life moves within it, a soul, perhaps. It has a mind of its own, there is another mind other than our own. Science has shown us that all mammals and insects have some sort of brain.

Another point about the significance of such another creature is that this creature will validate our own sense of connection to the world, that we are a part of a multiple of things. It is the existence of ‘mind’ in the flesh before our eyes, as we cannot see our own mind.

Without such a thing—without such a being, we are simply in a dream—a picture of the senses, without realising the distinction between reality and our conjecture of reality from our physical senses. There is nothing alive about the physical reality, it is a visual of the eye, a sound of the ear, etc., but this little creature lets us know that we are not alone, that reality is not simply a projection of our own, but that we are a part of something bigger.

It’s difficult to conceptualise this significance of another life—outside of ourselves, to see ourselves in the mirror or a reflection for the first time. There ought to be a more poetic and profound description but for now this will have to suffice.

Is it not so that the correct mentality is: I want the best for this creature, not at my expense, but I want the best for it. I want the best for myself too, but not at its expense. However, we all know the alternative mentality of the normal person in today’s world. Of course, it is much different if we swap the ant for a dog in this thought experiment, but most people would not kill or exploit them anyway, but what about that shrew or a mouse? Is it not easy to see how we would create a shared identity with this other living creature? And only then do we want the best for it.

Fairness beyond Our Own Kind

When the philosopher analyses society—and the whole of the animal kingdom, one of the most profound differences between them is: there are two types of people in this world, or two types of beings: Cains and Abels. Abels being those who are willing to take advantage of those over whom they have the power to do so, to exploit them. And then there are the Cains who do not exploit others but instead get on with their own lives. This, of course, is a simplistic description which matches the animal kingdom. But if we move into the psychology of many, we can say that Cain is deliberately fair and compassionate to the extent that they would not do to others as they would not have done to themselves, even though they may have the power to do so. And yet we should emphasise it is not simply because of a compassion of emotion and therefore a logic of “I wouldn’t like it, so I shouldn’t do it”; it is more so because of a logical conclusion based on basic universal fairness and living life itself—that it simply isn’t fair or good as a universal law that one part doesn’t consider another part.

This fairness and good referred to is the notion that we should live and let live freely—an individualism alongside a rational collectivism, in the name of a Good universe, which is that all things should be in the name of the benefit and Good of all, which is the entire body of life itself, both actually and in principle—for circumstances can change, and moreover it is a principle that the individual’s life should not be detrimental to the whole. It is a reverence and appreciation for all that is called Life. It is a love for the living creations-creatures of God.

We return to this subject of there being two types of people in this world: the compassionate and the selfish. Of course the latter are compassionate too, profusely so in instances, but not to the extent that they decide to prioritise this principle of love or fairness for another. Another aspect of it is that the righteous people also value self-determination—within reason, each being’s own peaceful sovereign sanctuary. And again the other type of people value this too—but when it suits or is convenient, but not to the extent to live by it or prioritise the principle. Live and let live echoes here, yet not absolutely as we say it is within reason. The King and Queen: the greater good and wisdom must always rule.

Now, obviously there is a big difference as well: we have a conscious dialogue of morality and unconscious conscience—of right and wrong, that the rest of the creatures don’t have. It seems ridiculous to think of the ant or the fish as trying to be moral, but also we shouldn’t count ourselves as so different in some sense, because there are human beings who likewise show no regard or do not ever conceive of the moral laws.

Another point to be made in respect of equality is that every young child of ours is equally immoral and lacking in intellect, and yet they ought to be of equal value in respect of their livelihood, as much as ours. We should not disregard or devalue them in their rights. If someone were to become injured and lose their cognitive ability, they also should not be disrespected in terms of their rights, although they are currently of such a lower rank in functionality in this world.

This key point is being laid before you: We are all equally entitled to fairness and righteousness. Things are not equal in every sense, of course. The wise should lead, and the rest should be wise enough to follow, and yet if they are not, the wise must take action on their behalf, in their interest, but ultimately in the interests of the one true monarch—which is the force of life itself, the totality of the life force— which we—as humans—are the captains and prefects of. But the point and realisation of us being a family of living creatures—and caring for each other in such a way—is necessary as it guides, informs and instructs us to have a certain amount of compassion and respect for all other creatures outside of ourselves, and those we see as equal to us, whether that be equal in intellect, strength or wealth.

In other words: it is a mentality of wanting the best for each of our family members—our fellow creatures, as though they were us, and us them, considering that one day we could be in such a position—what would we want? We know what they want by their emotions and behaviour. I know what I would want in their position, it is what everyone truly wants. It’s easy because it’s the same. I’d hope for prosperity, success—in food, drink, a partner, children. I’d like no catastrophes, I’d like no diseases, I’d like no attack or threat from anyone—any being. I’d like to live as long and happily as possible. So we know that’s what they want, that’s what we want. And to say that a man doesn’t ‘want’ something because he is asleep or unaware as to what he wants or ‘would want’ is absurd.

This must also be said too: It is not for us to make the world equal, to hunt the hunters, to right the wrongs of the jungle, and yet perhaps it is, but it does not seem necessary to do that just now. If another creature is starving somewhere, it is not our duty to go to its rescue. Although there comes a point when we must look at the problems of others in how it impacts ourselves. But moreover, the point here is that it is certainly our duty to not do wrong to anyone or anything.

Yet the most important concept regarding these matters is: Justice. I will touch on this briefly, that this idea is not simply philanthropy and charity, share the spoils, to take everything and share it equally. There is an element of that in this, it is true; there will be some of that, but the most important thing to state and remember is that all such action must be done with reason, common sense and what can only be described as ‘deserve’, which is the idea that life is also about who deserves what—based on their behaviour, based on their nature, based on their mind.

A short story: ten people are given ten apples, each day. One person continuously tosses his apple in the sea, day after day. He is now starving. Not only do we not give this person food aid, but furthermore, we take his daily apple from him, and divide it between the nine.

No creature is favoured more in God’s eyes, we are all his created ones. A parent may get along with or find more joy in one child over another, but a parent wants what’s best for all their children equally. One may be the captain, and one may be ordinary, but a parent cares for them all. And yet a captain is the captain for a reason. An interesting point about life is that there ought not be a captain for the sake of it, if so then there shall be no captain. It is critical to familiarise yourself with this notion that there may be or not be a captain among us, funnily: we should hope that there is, but unfortunately so many of us hope that there is not, it is understandable to an extent because of past experience, the dark history of the tyrant. And truly, we are still somewhat in a phase of the powerful being unable to refrain from being tyrannical—in the case of veganism. But on a positive note, it is our great society which has refrained from absolute power, abolished slaves, raised the flag of human rights and so on.

Power and Exploitation

I’ll say this as a brief point. I don’t like the idea that some greater creature can and will capture me and kill me, and why? For the greater good of society? No, because it simply wants to and enjoys it. It prefers it. And let’s put the eating side of things to one side. I don’t like this idea of murder, unfair-unjust murder. Of being murdered by another creature. I only accept the invitation of death from God, from nature, from mishap. No one should be killing anyone else, unless they truly deserve it. That is my idea I have come to know and love. I value happiness and peace. I don’t accept fear and unnecessary suffering, injustice.

And another way of looking at this, which is quite hippie-ish and lovey-dovey, but it’s this: Man needs to slow down and step back, open his mind and appreciate the magnificence of all creatures. And I imagine that if I were in the world alone with any one of these creatures, it would become my little buddy, my companion. There is something familiar in all creatures when we see them going about their lives, crawling along, seemingly going somewhere, sometimes without a care in the world, sometimes they seem as tied down with work as we are, and nearly always there is a sense of innocence in their living, sometimes not with the predators who seem a bit like drug addicts. But anyway, it is a message of love, of compassion, yet mostly a message of appreciation, especially if all the grander creatures were to disappear, perhaps only then could we appreciate all of the smaller or more insignificant creatures.

Perhaps these arguments seem to be more of an emotional argument. Let me pick up on what I said before about myself not wanting to be murdered. It is a matter of logic and internal consistency to apply this law universally, meaning that if I don’t want it to happen to me, that means that I shouldn’t want it to happen to anyone.

Now you might object that all creatures aren’t entitled to the same rights, and you are right, we are not expected to treat all the same, but there are some basic rights which are absolutely universal and apply to everyone and everything. No one should be treated cruelly undeservedly—or ever, really. It’s never okay to be cruel or unfair to someone. Now, of course, someone could argue that animals deserve cruelty for being such knuckleheads, etc., but it is a grave mistake to assign this punishment for that. An animal deserves murder if it is murderous or violent against someone. Those are the key arguments in short.

Now I find it hard to accept that other people do not possess this same value, even though at 25 years old I did not myself, and I considered myself a man of God and morality from 21 onwards. The thing is, many do agree with this value, but they’re either too occupied to think it through or they’re too weak to put it into practice, and many people subconsciously and consciously have to meddle with their logic and reasoning in order that it fits with their selfish behaviour and desires.

Regarding murder, the point here is not simply a point about murder or violence in and of itself, as there are many sound reasons for killing something and there are also reasons for interfering in another thing’s life: for the better of the world, for the better of society, for the better of itself (them), and of course: for justice. Let’s say that there is a thing which kills other things, does it deserve to die? Must it be stopped? Perhaps it may be thought that the objective thereby should be to lock up this thing and prevent it from doing so, and yet it is still somewhat theoretically and quite literally possible that that thing may kill again; a stroke of genius or luck may allow it to do it. It is absolute and simple, actually, that the only prevention is that this creature doesn’t exist any more. Another great aspect of this idea is that it is paramount in preventing such things from happening. Sometimes people with all the luxuries of life fail to see the beauty and richness of simply being alive, and moreover those very same people may not realise the richness of the internal world of a person who is not interested by the external material world. The point is: There are some who will happily face the consequence of imprisonment compared with the loss of life. There is also a natural instinctive reluctance and resistance to death, whereas there is not to imprisonment.

To return to our direct point: A person may reason that it’s just for a man to kill a cow; even the rabbi preaches how it is wise and beneficial for the cow! But if we understand and accept the simple reasoning above—which can be captured in the old adage of “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”, it’s perfectly clear that if we were the cow, we would not want others to kill us. Alternatively, consider: as human beings, we wouldn’t like it if a larger and more sophisticated creature were to prey on us. We would pray for it not to be so, as though it were a disease or disaster on earth. “Please God,” we would say, “please make it not so that this creature seeks to kill us.” And I wonder—in this hypothetical situation, whether those same people who would pray to God asking for such help would then go about their day killing other creatures. Such is human error.

Compassion and Convenience

While writing and pondering over the notion of not killing anything—anyone, that is—I am faced with a contradiction. I am in my small room living on the coast of Egypt and there are little ants in my room, little innocent helpless ants, and if I were those ants, I’d wish for a normal life without suffering and without catastrophe—premature death. I wasn’t sure what to do. I wanted rid of them. I brushed some on the floor and swept them out but this is frustrating as it’s reoccurring. I must admit my impulse is to kill all of them—it’s the ‘convenient’ thing to do. I did kill some, some by recklessly sweeping, and even one knowingly in the beginning as I wasn’t sure what to do. I think the right thing to do is to not kill them, to be patient and not lazy, to get rid of them and block their entry or disrupt it the correct way.

Because they are so small, I am guilty of not appreciating their livelihood. It matters not to me, but it does to them, as my life matters to me. Yet, I am guilty of thinking: it is only an ant. It is certainly in my subconscious thinking. And sometimes we do something wrong even when we know it is wrong and hope for forgiveness, a naïve hope that it isn’t wrong, or it’s only very minorly wrong. Can the killer of cows and dogs use the same excuse or reasoning: “It’s just a cow, chicken, fish, etc.”? If you can do it to an ant, you can do it to a chicken. This is logical.

But there is an explanation here to help myself—the contradiction. There are levels of respect. What we must or mustn’t do for a fellow human is not the same as what we must or mustn’t do for the loveliest of cats. Sidenote: an interesting idea presents itself here which is: is there a difference in due respect then between an extremely civilised and friendly human and a somewhat dumb and unfriendly human? The logic above seems to suggest that.

The second part of the explanation in my defensive plea is that the ant shouldn’t be in my room. It doesn’t know any better, I know.

But here is the main thing to say here in my defence of the difference between this murder of mine and the common murder of a chicken. My murder was done for what? I wish I didn’t have to kill it. I wish there was a better—easier way to prevent it. I was lazy, I know, and inconsiderate. I’m guilty of that indeed. If it wasn’t in my room, I wouldn’t kill it, or even desire to do so. I wouldn’t and don’t want it dead—absolutely. I wanted rid of it because it can’t be trusted; it’s too stupid, and I couldn’t think how to control the problem. I don’t want them on me, carrying germs perhaps, etc., and so it is some form of self-defence, ridiculous but truly.

The death of the chicken is nothing of the sort. It is a pure selfish desire and completely unnecessary. It is a matter of wanting, not logistics or practicality. And there are no two ways about it, regardless of any circumstance—the person wants the chicken dead—so he can eat it.

But, but, but… my guilt clouds my reasoning. I finally accept I shouldn’t kill the ant in any case. I shouldn’t kill anything, except in actual self-defence, yes, such as my killing of a mosquito today, but the ant, no.

I did some research subsequently—in my defence, the problem was all but completely harmless. But there is some validity in that it isn’t completely harmless or at least no problem at all. I was lazy; I know it—and moreover: self-entitled.

Necessity and Choice

What does all this amount to for the reader? What is the person to make of this? We are talking of the person who is considering whether to eat meat or not, or whether it is wrong or not. However, one thing I’ve realised in my campaign is that before we get to all of the morality ideas and debate around veganism, there is one important question: Do we need to do it? Because no matter how sad something is, if it has to be done, then that changes things. And so no matter how great a person’s sympathy is, if human beings need to eat animals to survive, i.e. we will all perish, then it becomes more realistic, though it does pose the question: if we were starving with no animals to be had, would it be okay to eat certain human beings? It would seem so.

Furthermore, this information is also complicated in that we can’t easily verify it, because it says that the effects of going without meat/B12 can be years later. And it also says it’s irreversible. All off-putting information.

There is another thing to say here in relation to the idea of naturalism: it isn’t just a matter of independence. The nature idea is also a kind of mystical science in which nature tells us what to do; it is to be guided by nature, meaning that this argument carries weight because it’s as if nature is telling us to eat meat, and to not go without it, as though it’s a part of nature, a part of the great plan and system. This is how it works.

If you search on Google or ask AI a simple question, which in effect is whether we need to eat animals or not, the answer and information you will find is a resounding yes, bar the exception of heavily processed food and technology. If the person has a belief in natural living, which is basically the idea that we have all that we need in nature, and that we don’t need to rely on man-made things, then the answer seems to be that we need to consume animals. Yet, of course, we can manufacture these so-called necessary vitamins, but when it comes to man’s idea of living off the land, or situations where man is independent, it is a problem when we base our lives on some manufacturing thing, especially when it is a chemical and microscopic. Let’s say it again, but more accurately. The science tells us that we need B12, and that we can’t meet that need from ourselves. It’s in animal flesh, and can also be in water and plants, but minimally, and it’s also quite complicated to understand how to reliably get it in enough quantities, to the point that it’s impractical via normal means. In a living-off-the-land, natural-living way of life, it seems to be that the only way is to eat meat, as the other options aren’t really feasible.

But, this scientific explanation only came in the last fifty years, and prior to that we have the Bible, the Jews and the Christians and the Muslims who have dominated the moral discussion. I have spoken to all three, and they say that their holy book and their scholars confirm that it is permitted to eat meat. And so one must acknowledge that this position comes first, prior to the science, which means that it is possible and probable that biases are in place which bring the science to the personal view as opposed to the other way around.

However, there may be truth to the matter: that human beings will suffer with a lack of this vitamin from that source, especially in terms of physicality. But maybe the suffering is not so dramatic and is manageable, and maybe the suffering can cease and be resolved in some way, e.g. a new production or systematic change within. Perhaps it would take generations for the withdrawal symptoms to come to an end. Who knows?

Each man is free to live and see for himself. If he stops drinking water or hydration, he will soon see; same with food. If he sits in the sun too long, he will see. But there are, of course, other mishaps which take their toll later in life, like smoking and substances causing problems in the body. But it is usually the case that while these things may not show as an initial problem, in theory it is easy for us to understand that this thing isn’t good. These are often all such cases of: Don’t do, don’t consume, etc. There isn’t much in life of the “dos”: Consume this or that, do this or that. Life seems to be okay without any instruction, actually. Aside from the bodily urges: to drink, eat, poo, pee.

I take this position of seeing for myself, only trusting myself truly. Myself and God/Good/conscience, my emotions, my logic, my experience and memory. One must refrain from things taken for granted, so-called facts and things which are probably true. This is the Socratic method. Life tells me to eat, to drink at times, to urinate and excrete. It tells me of sexual desire. It tells me of damage through physical pain. It tells me of misfortune, fortune, and values through happiness, sadness and all other emotions.

And my logic is ever building, ever surveying a universe of laws, an understanding of a system that is Good, fair, righteous, evolutionary. My mission is to try to make sense of it all, especially in relation to my own behaviour and my place in this great system.

The next point we want to discuss is the fact that there is a world abundant in food. It is idealism and utopian to some extent to talk of the diversity of the food around the world when some people are faced with a basic and poor offering of food around them. But that does not mean that something is right or wrong, it means something must be done to improve the situation, and furthermore, our ancestors and history have shaped the difficult situation we face, as has nature perhaps, in pushing many of us too far north or too far afield. And society is such that it isn’t an organisation catering to its members, but instead we have a competitive free-for-all—to an extent. But that being said, this discussion is on the matter of what is right and wrong morally.

Think of the avocado, the banana, nuts, beans and lentils, coconut and seeds, and then the rainbow of fruit and vegetables, vibrant dragon fruit, grapes, melons, and oranges and apples, the greens, the aubergines, parsnips and potatoes, lastly the grains: oats, wheat—bread and rice. There are others I forget which prove the point further, but it is a rich and plentiful menu.

We humans are inventive and artful, making the most wonderful concoctions and masterpieces of such things and the smaller herbs and spices, not to mention the creative processing, producing oils, milks, sugars and things like chocolate (vegan).

The banana hangs from the tree, waiting to be plucked. It does not run away nor shy away. And as human beings, our essence is that we are creatures of emotion, we are limited to it, and we use this emotion to guide our very existence, and in the banana we detect no resistance nor negative emotion—that true guide inside our hearts. Whereas, when we try to kill a pig, it runs away from us, like a magnet: as we move forward, it moves back.

Moreover, it screams and cries when we inflict deathly pain on it, that very same emotion which we know ourselves. We know exactly what it is: it is a cry of resistance, a cry to the sky of “Please, no.” It’s a tragedy, for them, we know. But I say: it is a tragedy, period. A sad story.

If a person can completely get down to their mental essence and approach life like a blind man, a man wading through a mass of matter, and he is trying to understand what he should do—what seems right and what doesn’t. Everything is experimental, tentative. We can imagine and understand the sound logic of this person as he becomes hungry—approaching one thing to eat, and registering no sign that it does not want to be eaten—no problem, no sickness, and no indication that something is wrong. And yet, equally, if this man were to approach a different part to eat, and he were to take a bite, we would see that this part of that mass around us responds in a different way, a way which seems to say: no, a large indication that this thing does not want to be eaten, that it is not food.

In other words, or in short, if we approach the external world, which is everything outside of our mind, and we observe and listen to it, then we would perceive that the pig is not food, and the thing which the predator is missing is that sense of humility and fairness toward that mass in saying to himself: “Ah, this does not want to be eaten, so I shouldn’t.” But the predator thinks, or rather doesn’t think: “I don’t care. I want it.”

We said earlier: “Beware!” in the context of a person reasoning and proclaiming evidence to support that which they want to be true and that which suits. It’s relevant here because there are a lot of discussion and statements at present which declare that being vegan is unhealthy, that we must eat meat, we must eat B12. But instead of that kind of science, there is also a science of experience. There are countless vegetarians in India and Asia, as well as people throughout history in our place who have stood the test of time as vegetarians. So we won’t spend much time on arguing against the false. Instead, let us frame the argument as better vs worse.

Desire and Self Justification

We shan’t go into psychology too much here in this brief letter, but for what it’s worth, let us declare: Beware of man’s tendency to believe whatever suits his behaviour, not to mention his self-esteem.

As it goes, often, the rabbi is not a psychologist, nor a psychoanalyst, nor a very experienced person in the passions and the complexity of human nature. This specific point about it being beneficial for the cow is the epitome of a person deluding themselves. Perhaps their principles and integrity calls for such reasoning, to allow them to continue as they are, instead of shattering their view of themselves and life, or a part of it at least. Humility and bravery are needed; such is the difficulty of naming oneself as wrong. But in general, read psychology, beware of the defence mechanisms, distortions, and moreover, the best fact to stumble across is like an aphorism which says: if a man really, really wants to believe something, then he can; the reasons will follow. We believe what we want, or, better still, we believe what suits.

Let us take a step back. It was said at the beginning that the crime is not only in the act of murder for gain but also in the mentality of thinking it is okay for things to be this way. We should highlight a grey area to the dichotomy of two types of people in this world—those who think it’s okay and those who don’t. There is also a person who says, and perhaps even thinks, that it is not okay to do so, it is not okay to kill, but they do it nonetheless. Why? Because they are addicted, and also unable to muster the strength to act on their moral reasoning.

There is one thing I am dying to say. I have been in the throes of a substance, whether it be a drug or a habit or a person. It is in a way to be addicted—to want something beyond reason, and what is it at work? The deaf, blind and dumb bodily system, the very amazing fascinating beauty of life which is the human being—this very special thing—tells us to keep taking the heroin, to keep devoting ourselves to a person—when it is clear to anyone but us that it is harmful or wasteful—detrimental.

And here is something I know and something I have perceived with dumbfoundedness and disbelief, yet incredulity, but wise, truthful insight: it is the change in mind once we free ourselves from the addiction and we see it as it actually is. We can’t help but wonder: how did we think and act in such a way? And it’s clear: Our body and the chemicals affect our thinking, and not always for the good. How bonkers is it that the body screams out and does everything it can to persuade the person to continue taking a substance when it is so obviously the ruin of the person?

Another truth is: of course, if the person stops taking the drug, everything will not be right as rain, and in that sense it isn’t the drug. It is the mental health of the individual which is the problem. They know it too, and they argue as such and continue. But how much worse off are they for the drug? And while they may be terribly low and sad without the drug, there are many roads uphill, whereas on the drug, not only is there no such path, but there are many roads downhill.

Why am I dying to say this? Because it is specifically relevant and applicable to veganism. People are addicted to the eating of meat, and while in the throes of addiction, they will obstruct their moral reasoning to the best of their ability. Here is the insight I offer: Once the person stops eating the meat—they will be able to see the truth of the matter.

Some might argue here, though: why do some people become vegan then and then change back if they have seen the truth? Firstly, it allows one to see the truth; it doesn’t present itself. Secondly, many people quit meat for the wrong reasons; often it is seen as politically correct as opposed to pure morality. And thirdly, addiction is known to work like this. People relapse easily, sometimes after many years, sometimes after a few days. And one thing I have also observed thoroughly is that when a person does change—returns to the thing— their mentality and idea, their philosophy of life, etc., change instantly. Our principles and thinking change according to the situation. What’s the point of wanting something which you can’t have? What’s the point of disliking something which you do have? Etc. Why say something is wrong when you do it? You’re just going to feel bad.

Religion and Reverence for Life

People may disagree instantly, but if there were such a creature in God’s garden who had decided to go around killing other creatures and eating their flesh, this creature would be somewhat of a monster, a Dracula or demon, and whether he be technically and physically our nearest kin, he would be the furthest of kin in reality. And it is conceivable that we may well wish for this creature to cease to be. For our own safety and for the safety and fairness of others. And so it was: Cain killed Abel. You must say: “Read on. God was angry with Cain. Murder is wrong.” No one can deny that murder is wrong, but sometimes two wrongs do make a right. An eye for an eye as they say. However, it is to be noted that Cain does go on to prospect and be protected by God for his action.

Another reference from the first book of the Bible is the second story of two types of people: Jacob and Esau. It is not the hunter who prevails, instead his hunting fails him and he surrenders or comes a-begging to the other person and seeks food of lentils. The other, who is not the hunter and lives by the lentils, goes on to be God’s chosen person.

One of two people is said to be an animal eater specifically, while the other is said to be eating something other than animals, and in both cases it is the person who does not eat animals who prospers. The meat-eater prospers seemingly—physically—in the sense that they are blessed with fortune here on earth, they become strong and furthermore they have an affluence of food around them, not depending on the rain of God to yield a crop. It was said that when man ate the forbidden thing, they became Gods, when they decided to eat other living creatures, they no longer needed to pray for rain or the success of a crop. They became God-like masters of the fortune of themselves and animals—giving and taking life.

This idea that there are two types of people in this world—selfish versus collective thinkers is an interesting topic for the Jew and the Christian—who worship the Bible. The Bible may be an historical account, but it is also a means of understanding moral law. There are stories and statements which illuminate moral law, as it has played out in life. It is a simple method: to say what happened and what transpired, which allows the reader to glean from it what he can.

It begins: there is the first man God created, who was apparently a vegan, but then he ate something he shouldn’t eat, as was made clear by God. His life then took a turn for the worse. This is the first story pertaining to veganism, but the second story is quite to our point, in which this first man has two sons. There are two peoples: one of them tills the ground, a vegan by this account, and the other eats animals. One of them prevails and the other does not, and the one who prevails is protected by God. He populates the world, although the story says a third person enters the scene who also populates the world.

But out of those two people, it is an interesting fact of the story that one prevails, while the other does not. And also to our point, the story also includes that the one who ultimately does not prevail is seemingly favoured by God—by life, which I think is informative because the meat-eater does seem to prosper by their choice, the food is simple, easy and wholesome in some respects, the meat-eater becomes strong, muscular and athletic like the best of the animals, while the vegan has a firm reputation for being leaner, and their diet more complicated. But enough of this, and I apologise to those who pay no heed to those texts written thousands of years ago.

The next thing to talk about is consequence—cause and effect. It would be simple to say that if we imagine a God in the sky—so to speak, who is always watching, that we will be punished in one way or another for killing something else without a good reason to do so, as we said before, there is plenty of food to survive. But of course it’s not so simple because people think differently. The Christians and the Jews actually use God to strengthen their argument in defending their choice to eat another being, including philosophy. They say: it is meant to be this way. But we will not go into theology here.

I will say this though as a side note: it seems to be the case, and it makes sense, that a person is punished for doing something wrong, but the severity is much greater for a person who does something which they know is wrong, and much lighter for those who don’t know it is wrong, so fear not if you are in the position of a reader who completely disagrees with what you are hearing, and continuing to eat meat. Another point of defence is that the vast majority of people do not commit murder, they simply eat it once it is dead, or has been killed to be accurate. So a person can take comfort in knowing they do not know it’s wrong and also in not committing the act themselves. Furthermore, it can be added that it is the social norm of our society, and the tradition of our ancestors.

Let us now discuss the possible ideas of a negative outcome of being a person who eats animals, including animal matter, i.e. eggs and milk. I borrow an idea I heard from Asia, which is that it is possible that the eating of meat interferes with our emotional and spiritual structure, because it itself is indeed an emotional and spiritual thing or a part of such a thing, and so it is in its DNA.

We can recognise and identify a thing in as small a part as a single hair or piece of nail, a drop of blood or skin, even such things carry the essence of the being. And another part of this idea is that we must consider that our body converts that which we eat into ourselves, and therefore the digestive system is to convert the animal into ourselves, and, in other words, combine too, implying that we become animalistic.

Perhaps some of the animal spirit lives in the person if they consume it. This is a technical argument regarding the consumption of another being. The suggestion accompanying this idea is that a plant is something very different, containing no such animal emotion or spirit. Plants contain some kind of energy, but it doesn’t compete with our own, and indeed as God has made it, it is food. Such is the proper order of things. You could spend all your days trying to see the emotion in a plant and will never see it, but in an animal it can be easily seen.

The first idea or area we are touching on is what can be called technical, physiological, chemical and biological, and also psychological, meaning that we may be affected in this way by consuming the body of another being, especially a lower animal. We have touched on the first concept above, saying that perhaps it affects our emotionality or our spirituality, making us less human and more animal. Of course, the whole point above was that we are all animals, but nonetheless, we human beings are in some way a very different thing too. That which is higher should not mingle with that which is lower. Well, perhaps it should, but that which is higher should also mingle with that which is equal to continue the higher. Some of the more tangible terms which come to mind here are things like clarity and control, even humanity, pureness; such things may be worsened at a technical level.

There is also another purely physical idea which is that meat contains hardly any water, and all of its nutrition is second-hand, plentiful, yes, but new or clean, no.

The second idea is one which causes the most uneasiness. It is the idea of Karma. One of the most common and prolific aspects of our experience of God comes down to this basic concept of Karma. It is the idea that God is like a law, a judge, who gives out reward and penalty—punishment. And what does he base it on? Or what is it based on, concerned with: Right and Wrong. And what is that exactly? Fairness, Appreciation, and Intention. In essence, it is a matter of emotion, feeling and thought, and then action. All can be captured in the term ‘Good’.

A good phrase is that honesty is a state of mind, not simply an act. It matters what is going on inside, and God sees and understands everything, there is no scheming against it. But unfortunately we are not aware of this.

The merciful meet with mercy. The violent meet with violence, the unfair with unfairness, the deceiving with deception, the false with falsity.

The true with truth, the kind with kindness, the fair with fairness.