disenchantedbunny.

An old joke. What walks on four legs in the morning, two at midday and three in the evening? The idea is, as everyone probably knows, that human infants crawl, adults walk on their own two feet and old people hold themselves up with a cane.

Of course, the original joke only concerns men - just one facet of stupidity found in the ancient Greek thinking. Another criticism that a Christian might level at this joke concerns the ‘footprints in the sand’ theodicy/poem: the all-loving deity is supposedly walking alongside or carrying the worshipper through tough times. This of course makes the joke a bit funnier, as it implies that Christians have more legs than ancient Greeks. That is funny, isn’t it? I’m out of touch with the current standard of jokes.

But there is a realm of secular truth to be analysed in this devotional imagery. When the sense of self is questioned or knocked about, when the foundations of our lives seem shaky, it is often nice to know there is something bigger there to hold it together. Social institutions such as the various religious seem to stick around, as history shows. They chop and change, reorganise power, and even completely alter dogma (contradiction of terms isn’t really an issue in religion). But man, do they stick around.

And now the imagery is getting disturbing. If we incorporate the pillars of our social existence into the equation – i.e. our friends, families, lovers, organisations, histories, etc – we end up with these hideous multi-limbed incestuously connected organisms that never cease sprouting more and hacking off smaller periphery limbs. Of course some limbs are a bigger part of the foundation than others. And I like this coherence-as-foundation analogy for the self despite how multi-limbed creatures are often presented in horror and/or anime.

Now imagine hacking off your own leg.

Either one, really. Even a few toes. You’re still pulling out the floorboards that hold you up.

Anyone who has metaphorically hacked off a limb knows what I’m talking about – I’ve never had the issue of hacking off an almighty all-protecting god-limb before, but I have a lot of respect for people who really have made the struggle. To completely rearrange the foundations of your life is an extremely risky and painful experience.

Take the imagery a bit further. One day you notice that one of your legs is misbehaving. All of a sudden, this aspect of your self that has supported you your entire life is looking a bit out of place. So you start testing it to see what’s wrong, and it starts to look a bit… foreign. We all have a self-defence system that acts like a toned-down Capgras delusion in relation to fending off imposters: that is a fake. It’s a lie. We don’t want to get rid of it, because it’s so possible that it’s still our leg, it just doesn’t seem to fit anymore. Eventually we start to notice that it’s affecting the rest of our bodily support. The limb has to go.

Ockham’s Razor never seems to have much of an effect on religious belief, or other factors that build up one’s identity. That’s because you need a fucking hacksaw, not a Gillette Shaver. You really just need to start hacking into it, and rip that limb off, dealing with the pain, blood and tears that come with it.

And once it’s detached sufficiently, that’s not the end of the story. That phantom limb will be floating around your entire life. Across the room at a party. Displayed on street signs. Hovering around like something that should be there but isn’t. A sense of nothingness that wants to be filled by something specific, but all it can find are imposters.

The analogy is in the Saw movies (in part), but the lesson is obviously different. Next time you encounter someone, look at their beliefs, look at their life projects, look at their loves and hates, and remember what fucked-up multi-limbed creatures you’re dealing with here. Now step back and take a look at yourself.