“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls”.
He always starts his lectures this way. He gets a sympathetic giggle from the Asian exchange students down the front. The rest of the room collectively cringes. The lecture theatre is noticeably empty. I can’t see Dale. I haven’t seen him in a while, now I think about it. He probably found a permanent drinking buddy and decided he’d learn more at the bar.
“Today’s lecture is entitled The God Theory; Dreaming of Infinite Potential,” Professor Johnson says proudly.
Intriguing. I might borrow a pen and paper. Begrudgingly, the girl in front of me looks to be the most likely option. I tap her on the shoulder.
“Yes?” she asks.
“Um, I’m sorry about before. I forgot my notepad today. Is there any chance I could borrow a pen and some paper? Please?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Really? Um, thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Here you go. Just don’t tap it against my seat,” she says with a smile.
I do my best to smile back at her.
“I won’t. I’m James by the way.”
You idiot! Why did you tell her your name? She doesn’t care what your name is you retard. Why can’t you just take the pen and shut up.
“Nice to meet you James. I’m Von.”
“Von, I like that name.”
Oh crap, did I just say that out loud?
“Well I better stop talking to you now James.”
I see her friends start to laugh.
“Oh right, of course. Sorry I bothered you guys.”
“I mean I should stop talking to you because Professor Dick is about to start.”
We both laugh, and then just like that, she turns back around. The longest conversation I’ve had with a female other than my therapist, comes to an end. Her bitch friends giggle once more. One out of three ain’t bad.
“The earliest Philosophers believed that science and religion were inextricably linked. They believed that what you saw when you dreamt was a direct conversation with god.”
Jesus Christ Johnson, you don’t mess around. No philosophical foreplay or anything. Give me a chance to at least check my pen works.
“They believed that beyond sub consciousness, you were able to reach a heightened understanding of the universe through a set of complex images and sounds. Greek philosophers were the original “dream theorists” long before Freud launched his sex-crazed theories upon the world. Unfortunately for us more “informed” postmodernists, these ideas have been discredited as religious doctrine and unsubstantiated hearsay. One should not be so quick to dismiss thousands of years of belief, or even deny that there is an intrinsic link between science and religion.”
Right on Johnson. Freud can go screw himself! No wait, Freud probably would.
“No matter how conflicting religion and science may be at times; they both attempt to answer very similar questions. The most mysterious, and pertinent to today’s discussion, are fundamental to our human nature and very existence. Where did I come from and where am I going? What is my destiny? If you can understand what your dreams are trying to tell you, you’ll be better equipped to answer these questions consciously. I cannot give you the answers to these questions. But I can tell you that religion and science cannot survive without the other. Without religion, science has no grounds for hypothesis, no comparative fiction for the ideal of creationism. In order for science to explain the world, one must disprove religion. Conversely, religion is the leap of faith required to fill in the gaps that science presents.”
I can barely keep up.
“What are dreams? Anyone?” he asks.
I should speak up. But I don’t. I just keep writing.
“No one? Well dreams are a million things. But the most straightforward answer is that dreams are our unconscious thoughts. These unconscious thoughts represent the mind’s ability to make semblance of what the conscious mind cannot come to terms with. So why do we dream? Anyone?”
God dammit Johnson, you know you’ve got me hooked! Stop teasing.
“We dream because our minds yearn to be free. Because when we’re awake, we are so damn restricted by what we think we should think. Or what others deem is appropriate for us to think about. Your mind literally needs to escape from itself. That brings us to logic and reasoning. These two simple things are the catalyst of all the modern world’s great confusion and disillusionment. We believe we can explain everything. That it is our great depression. Not hunger, not poverty, not genocide. Our generation has lost the ability to question things. Everything has become two-dimensional. Everyone is a slave to Google, a slave to fact. We pigeon hole everything into boxes of what’s possible and what’s not possible.”
At this point I remind myself that this scene is indeed playing out in real life. Johnson might not look the part, but he seems to be taking on Dale’s Fight Club persona. Next, he’s going to tell me to consider the possibility that God doesn’t like me.
“Boys and girls, one must consider that anything and everything is possible, if we care to dream it so.”
Wow. I had half the wording right. More positive than I was expecting.
“We must also accept in the same breath that nothing can be proved beyond a reasonable doubt. The big bang theory for example, cannot be proved any more than the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is written, preached and prophesised. But scientific fact only makes up half the picture. Even if I am presented with overwhelming, irrefutable evidence, that we all started with some cosmic storm, I may refuse to believe it. So, does that not cast doubt over its authenticity? Nothing is fact. Everything is science fiction. May I be struck down where I stand, but some might argue that even religion is science fiction. It attempts to explain creationism in the same way evolution does. The origins may be vastly different, but the end goal is the same.
Now, I’m not here to prove or disprove anything. I’m not here to question religion or the big bang or the theory of evolution. I’m here to question everything. And believe in everything. That may sound conflicted, but that is exactly my point. To reach any sort of enlightenment, one must discard all preconceived notions of what is considered “normal.” It is my belief that one must possess faith, but also a scientific understanding of the world that surrounds you. If you can achieve both, you are far better equipped to make a sound judgement on how you got here, and where you will someday be.”
This is the most engaged I’ve been all semester. I feel the other bodies in the room slowly start to disappear. It’s like it’s just me and Johnson, deeply rooted in some philosophical wet dream. Even the cute girl in front of me becomes invisible. What was her name again?
“Science attempts to reason that everything is random. But aren’t there so many instances which cannot simply be explained as unequivocally accidental? I propose that everyone in this room today has witnessed at least one phenomenon in their lifetime which they were unable to explain using reasonable logic. At that point in time, I propose also that you stopped to consider the possibility that a supernatural or spiritual element was at work. Finally, I propose to you that everything which appears random, does so for a reason. The key word is “appears”. It is how we interpret the events which unfold before us that gives them meaning. Or a lack thereof. You choose to see events as random. Because to think otherwise acknowledges the presence of a higher power, or a force capable of infinite potential.”
Wowser! This is getting super intense now. I’m not even being sarcastic. Johnson is about to bust a philosophical nut!
“That my interested observers, brings me to the title track. The God Theory: Infinite potential. Many people in the past have highlighted the Middle East and other historical crimes against humanity as undoubtable proof that god does not exist. But it is religion, not god that justifies these atrocities. It is religion, not god that sends its sons to die in foreign warzones. In other words, people who start wars do so based upon their interpretation of g
od, not god himself. Or herself. Who says god is a man? It is upon Bernard Haisch’s book that this lecture is based. In it he explains. “The human misuse of religions and the existence of God are very different matters. I propose that the special properties of our universe reflect an underlying intelligence, one that is consistent with the Big Bang and Darwinian evolution. Both views are equally logical and beyond proof. However, exceptional human experiences and accounts of mystics throughout the ages do suggest that we live in a purposeful universe.”
Philosophically satisfied. To top things off, he’s not about to simply hit and quit. Johnson likes to stick around for a celebratory cigar.
“So, in conclusion, there is meaning in everything. There is god in everything. And with that in mind, I take my leap of faith. I would like to take one step further than Haisch. I propose that if humans are purposeful and built in the image of their creator, then humans do indeed have infinite potential. Think about how many things are created, and that maybe the power of god is within every person and object we touch. I mean not the spiritual, self-righteous attributes we are all capable of. I am talking about the power of creation and the power of destruction. We can create music, artworks, children, love. We can destroy material objects, lives, countries and entire civilisations. That creative and destructive force is an act of god. We may have evolved just as Darwin said we did, but all good things, all good people, have a purpose. We as humans are bound by something far greater than the will to survive. We are bound by our dreams.”
Now all of this sounds heavy I admit. Coupled with the strange sexual undertones, it’s a lot to take in. But every now and then, the universe speaks directly to you. You simply must stop and listen. Or messily scribble it down. Quite surprisingly, I managed to paraphrase it all onto two sides of one A4 sheet of paper. These pills are working wonders, but clearly not sedating. It’s the exact correct amount of manic disorder. The cigar is now down to a smouldering little stump. Professor Johnson, properly satiated, signs off in less spectacular fashion.
“That’s all folks, see you next time.”
The theatre empties rapidly. For once I learn a lesson from my teacher. I take my time. I wait and I watch as he carefully packs away his laptop and inspects his faded jacket before putting it on. By the time I reach the bottom step to greet him, he has only managed to half pack his tote bag. Patience is every dick’s virtue.
“Excuse me Professor, I’m not sure if you know me but I was hoping you had a minute to talk.”
“Galinski! Of course, I know you. You always sit in the same spot. Quite a busy note- taker you were today!”
On closer inspection Professor Johnson doesn’t seem like such a dick. His hair is a thick grey mess. His glasses are thick framed; definitely not designer. His pants seem too baggy, his tie too short, and his stubble too ruffled. He looks, in a word, honest.
“So, what can I do you for young man?”
Eek. That makes me shudder a little. Nonetheless, I’m determined for answers.
“I wanted to talk to you about dreams.”
He looks down his nose, brow furrowed, as if weighing up the seriousness of my request.
“Right...” he slowly begins.
“Anything in particular?” he continues.
I take a moment to consider how I will pose my question. This could come out a little Disney sounding. Ah well.
“Do you think it’s possible that dreams can come true?”
“Like playing quarterback for the Panthers?”
The Panthers? Who the hell are the Panthers? Football, right? God, I hate football. Oh, that was a joke. Better smile and nod.
“I’m not talking about that sort of dream. I mean like a dream dream. Like an actual dream when you are actually asleep. Like, do you really think that you can create stuff using only your imagination?”
Despite my lack of eloquence, The Professor’s face lights up. You can tell no one ever talks to him after class. He seems ecstatic that I’ve taken the slightest interest.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure what you mean,” he replies earnestly.
His calmness soon disappears, as his hands flutter about with pure eagerness. He pants a little, preparing himself for the excitement that’s about to spill out. I can tell this guy loves talking about this stuff. Then again, I did ask. Here he goes.
“I believe that when we dream we lose the inhibitions we would otherwise have when awake. Your imagination works much more freely without all the daily distractions. I don’t think we can manipulate a real-life situation inside our dreams. But most good ideas come to you in your sleep, so an idea itself is a form or creation. So, the answer to your question is no, but yes.”
Now for the doozy.
“If you dreamt of someone dying could they die for real?”
In my mind, I picture Shavoni being swallowed up by The Shadow.
“Um, I’m not sure how to answer that James.”
First name now, Johnson must be getting worried. Crap. I need to backtrack.
“Not like you kill them in your dream, but if you saw someone have a heart attack or get hit by a car or something, would they die the same way you dreamt about it?”
“Well, the imagination is a powerful thing, but not that powerful, James.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it Professor?
“What’s that?”
“We’ve invented all this amazing technological stuff, yet I don’t understand what goes on inside my own brain. Does that make me stupid?”
“Not stupid, no. Well, maybe you are a little bit stupid. But that’s fine, a little bit of stupidity goes a long way. We all take far too much for granted. We turn a light switch on and off again, dozens of times each day. Personally, I have no idea how it works. I know it involves electricity, and I know that electricity comes from burning coal, or from the sun. I know that somehow it travels along a piece of wire, into my house and into the power socket of my bedroom. But how does it really work?”
“I don’t really follow you, Professor.”
“I know the sun rises each day, but where does it go? My eyes tell me I understand what’s happening, but my mind simply takes it for granted. I don’t understand electricity, just in the same way an electrician does not understand 13th century philosophy. My point is we can’t possibly know everything. And just because we think we know everything doesn’t mean it’s true. It’s better to freely admit that you don’t have a clue, because really, no one has a clue. And you are right; your dreams could be telling you anything.”
“They seem too real to be meaningless. I just don’t get it.”
“It certainly is a mystery, but that’s a good thing. We’ve all become too smart for our own good. Most of us have forgotten how to use our imaginations. Don’t ever lose the ability to dream, James. It’s the true death of one’s soul.”
“So, you are well into all this philosophy stuff then? You’re not just like, gay for pay? No offence.”
“I do practice what I preach, yes.”
“What did you mean when you said the power of god is within every object?”
“Objects are something we manipulate. We generally have control over them. Even objects in nature we have managed to wrestle into submission. Like I said, we’re too smart for our own good. But to everything we touch, we transfer our own energy and our power. I believe everything is interconnected. In a way, they control us too. I know it sounds selfish, but we are the centre of our universe, by default. Everything we have learnt, our understandings and our influence, ceases to exist when we cease to exist. Our energy flows on, but physically and intellectually, we are no longer a part of it.”
“Isn’t that energy our soul?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“That makes a lot of sense. I think.”
Professor Johnson could sense my interest piquing and waning as my brain struggled to comprehend his dime-store philosophy.
“Look if I can break it down to one simple sentence, it�
�s this. I am not in the world; the world is in me.”
“Wow. That’s pretty good. Is that yours?”
“No, that is unoriginal I’m afraid. Mr Deepak Chopra came up with that one. But here’s a little nugget of gold I came up with. Never retell a story, already told perfectly.”
“Any more?”
“Be good to your mother?”
I fake a smile. Johnson seems to notice as he quickly changes tact.
“I mean, hell kid, I don’t know. Why are you stuck here talking to an old fart like me? Shouldn’t you be out chasing skirts?”
“In my dreams.”
A smile stretches across the Professor’s creased cheeks. He reaches out and lays a leathery palm on my shoulder. Uncharacteristically, I accept it.
“Touché, Galinski. Touché!” he says.
CHAPTER 7: Dale Part II
“Dude! Where the fuck have you been?”
His voice is instantly recognisable, and I can’t decide whether I’m happy or disappointed to hear it. Either way, Dale has me cornered, caught between a locked gymnasium door and countless dusty banners. He lashes out with a playful poke to the ribs.
“Are you deaf or just plain ignorant bro?” he asks.
I physically recoil. I hate genuine affection, let alone a stranger’s advances. Reluctantly, I turn to face him. He wears a red Lacoste sweater, despite it being 78 and on the cusp of spring. I’ve never understood how looking cool wins over comfort.
“Oh, hey Dale.”
“Wow. You actually remembered my name!”
His sarcasm infuriates me.
“I buy you a drink, you storm out, and then you never call. I feel like I’ve been violated. Platonically, of course.”
“It doesn’t sound any less gay when you put it like that.”
“So, what’s happenin’ man? I haven’t seen you around much lately.”
James in the Real World Page 6