At a time, when the ancestors of most people now living were groping in the soil for wild tuber and communicating with each other in syllables as complicated as the grunts of the boars, which in many cases, they most resembled in their behavior towards each other, and five centuries before the first known writing about the Hebraic messiah that is today called, Christ, Grecian intellectuals were writing and performing plays in which they wisely ascribed traits to deities that rationalized the otherwise insane chaos of the world at large and the behavior of human beings in particular.
You know the old saw, “there are no atheists in foxholes”? Well, I’ve been “in a foxhole” since I began this incarnation and I’ve thought about this and concluded that any deity worth the name must be given credit for not needing or heeding assistance from human kind. Even if you’re a died-in-the-wool, dedicated humanist or for that matter a Stalinist, raised in the godless Stazi-infected state of Eastern Germany, you must grant that if there is/was/were such a one, any ostensible deity must use some reasonable discernment in choosing whom to listen to among the millennia parade of human idiots, swine, bigots, morons, lawyers, thoughtless ignoramuses, schizophrenics, television producers and government clerks and so on. In respect of this and fairness, we shouldn’t want our god to have to stomach listening to much of what people have had to say.
The ancient Greeks were on to something that our era now lacks sight of, as a consequence of the political agendi of those who have historically made capital on political power of myths, be they Christian, Moslem, Hindu or whatever. As a species, we seem to have lost the wisdom unconcealed to those in ancient Greece and instead, we learn as children to try to make sense of something that is by nature, without sense, and in the presence of such a paradox, we make up the strangest things which to begin with is nonsense, as if, by saying the nonsensical over and over again, it becomes true, irrespective of the logic that nonsense plus nonsense is just more nonsense, ad infinitum and now, with advent of the internet, there is no end to it.
Living in a fox hole all my life, as I said, and with no reasonable expectation that this condition will change, since it certainly could have if it was going to, and therefore, without even the luxury of an atheist’s dogma in which to believe, I’ve decided that the best way to deal with god is to offer to the deity that which I would want for myself: something beautiful to hear and lovely to see and therefore, I am an artist. While, I do not demean the attempts of others to make art in their own way, no matter how different from my own, just in respect of god, I make a distinction between kitsch, or what some call, crap, and art. I do this simply out of respect for my audience.