Freddie's in love! (+playlist)

**

#6 in 17-song cycle.

The Hard Board

**BW was one of the most intelligent, well-read and astute thinkers I have ever known. A couple or three years ago he graciously invited me to play Words with Friends on our phones. At first he would win handily, of course. Still, I enjoyed his companionship, virtual and actual, especially when he and his wife got a place nearby in the City. Gradually, after I'd gained some experience, learning much by playing him, the results weren't always so lopsided. In the past year it was getting closer to 50-50.

Too hard

On occasion, he'd explain his low score by stating that this particular game had a hard board, meaning that the tiles he'd drawn were difficult to turn into high-scoring words. It was an acknowledgement that regardless of the innate intelligence or expertise of a player, the game — like life — is subject to the luck of the draw.

The hardest board

Our last game

About a year ago BW's body was dealt a hard board: Cancer. Despite a generally healthful lifestyle and the best medical treatment money could buy, bad genes also had a place at the table. He played all-out to win, with many ups and downs along the way. But the last move of that game was a few days ago, on March 1 (WWF informed me that "It's been 10 days" since we'd exchanged plays). And it's a down

Not an immortalist
One of several books he'd recommended to me, a book I could actually follow, was one he'd recently re-read: Immortality: the Quest to Live Forever and How it Drives Civilization. We discussed and agreed with the conclusion of that book: though there is no way —  here or hereafter —  to gain immortality, the best policy is to live here kindly, seek the welfare of others and be rid of as much illusion as possible. Qualities BW exemplified amply, gently.

While expected and prepared for, his death still pains me. I will miss the companionship of this formidable opponent and virtual/actual friend.

But, wait —  sadly, there's more.
Just a couple hours after being informed of BW's grim prognosis I got this distressing tweet from my former colleague and friend, CG:

She's a brilliant writer, specializing in food. Her restaurant reviews, descriptions of food, travelogues and the like were always fascinating, even if one didn't care for her subject (my favorite is an entry, with video, about dining on a pig's head.) After leaving our religious citadel, where she was employed as a rare "non," she got a job at a cancer hospital.

And then got cancer.

In the mouth.

In the mouth.

Hard board, indeed.

A couple years of chemo, some ups and downs, and now: "end of the line." What makes it more appalling is that she's supposed to be in the prime of life — arguably unlike BW and, certainly, me. She's supposed to get a better deal. Life is supposed to be a lot easier. And longer lasting.

How tweet it isn't
Adding to the weirdness of this experience is the fact that she's sharing her death process ON THE INTERNET! Now, I accept that we're in a connected age, but this is bizarre. Maybe outrageous. Yet, strangely, in her case, it's also inspiring. She can pull it off because her good cheer, humor and eloquence take the edge off.

But beyond the edge is the rest of the blade: She'll be gone soon. Too soon.

Why me?
I don't know if I have better or worse genes than these two hapless friends. If better genes, I'm sure I've compromised their ability to help me. I smoked for twenty years — two+ packs a day and drank heavily during several periods in my life, including the most recent seven years. High salt. High fat. High alcohol. High tension. High risk.

But easier boards:

As I've blogged about before, last October, when an echocardiogram showed that my heart was delivering only a 37% ejection fraction (40%-50% is considered below normal), it was decided that I needed an angiogram to determine the cause and treatment. This involves slipping a very thin tube into a coronary artery (don’t ask how) and taking a look around. What they saw was a vessel 99% blocked by plaque — a sign of hard living, and maybe hard genetics. As I understand my cardiologist's explanation, when this thin tube (catheter) was inserted into that coronary artery it made the blockage go from 99% to 100%. This essentially induced a "heart attack" right there on the cath lab table. Emergency measures ensued and the medical team was able to bring me back and complete the mission. I left the hospital a couple days later with three stents in that artery.  

As boards go, this was "hard." But not "too hard," thanks to medical expertise.

And a stroke of good luck 

It affirms where I stand now: soberly atheistic after decades of believing in, teaching about and advocating for a supreme benevolent force for good in the universe. I am not naïve and unschooled. I've studied the Bible, theology and metaphysics; studied and unsuccessfully practiced an unrealistic 19th century healing system based on that premise; taught it; written about it; and carefully observed my life and the lives of others (including those of my atheist friends BW and CG, as well as my believing family and other friends). I have studied and tried several different belief systems including the no less loony one I was brought up with. 

And my conclusions: We live in a material universe that has originated, evolved and is run by chance. "Spirituality" has more to do with insight into human consciousness than with any tangible substance. In sum: There is no "God."

Why not?
By far a most convincing argument against a theological ground of existence is expressed by the website: Why won't God Heal amputees? It's based on the fact that there has never been a credibly documented case where an amputated limb was restored to normality through "spiritual" means. If a god can't do that, the rest is bullshit. The "goodness" in our experience has nothing to do with any "Principle" of goodness. It's just optimal human practice.

As a blog pal and also former religionist, Liz Heywood, has expressed it: "I'm happier with Chance instead of fate." Well, I wouldn't exactly say I'm happy with chance — I'm not happy with anything that determines my destruction. But it's certainly more intellectually honest and satisfying than believing in an imaginary but impotent Friend.

I'll leave it there for now.

Farewell, precious fellow players. 
Sooner or later I'll be joining you in oblivion, if not renown.

And to my still-playing companions in this perilous and doomed game, for as long as possible, may the boards be with us.

Concise summary of Christian teaching

**Got this from Urban Dictionary, but it is pretty common all over the Web:

The belief that a cosmic Jewish zombie who was his own father can make you live forever if you symbolically eat his flesh and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from your soul that is present in humanity because a rib-woman was convinced by a talking snake to eat from a magical tree...