The Continuing Creation

What if the biblical creation needed the support of a scholar? And not the least. Descartes comes to his aid by posing this: creation could not take place once and for all. The creator’s work continues at every moment and until the end of time.

Super René

Descartes calls his theory continued creation. Obsolete and out-of-date formulation, I do not deny it. So I suggest continuing creation, or more simply continuous creation. It’s more modern. But Descartes said continued — right he is. What did he mean anyway?

For Descartes, nature is a mechanism, a machine devoid of any internal dynamism which cannot exist by itself. According to him, the act of creation should not be reduced to the origin of the world; God did not create nature to let it be and exist. Being incapable of being by itself, nature is therefore suspended from “continued creation”; in other words, it is continually renewed. (source)

Timely theory

This theory is a pillar of the Christian religion. Descartes badly needed to restore his image to the hierarchy of the clergy. But its influence has continued to this day. The Cartesian theory appeared in Catechism of the Catholic Church published in 1992; “With creation, God does not abandon his creature to himself. He not only gives it to be and to exist, He maintains it at every moment in being, gives it to act and brings it to an end. Recognizing this complete dependence on the creator is a source of wisdom and freedom, of joy and of confidence ”.

Interesting notion, that Descartes conveniently put in a Christian perspective, but that we can very easily use in the techno-creationist perspective which is mine. I would even say that it fits perfectly with the scenario of the former gods. The Terraformers.

All the versions according to which a single god would take care of us without stopping are suspect a priori. Why would someone almighty go to so much trouble and dedicate so much time just for a few of his countless creatures?

Wake you up

You could still believe it as long as you imagined yourself the only ones in the universe, but now that you have a broader view, this naive conception seems quite unrealistic. How do you expect a unique and personal god to care and take care of everything that lives in the multiverse?

And yet I adhere to the Cartesian theory of continuous, permanent, eternally recommenced creation. So ? Well here is my idea. Our planet is the scene of a galactic performance. A successful game.
Terra amata

They are millions, they are myriads. With the joystick in their hands, they play Terra Amata, the most popular video game in the galaxy. They have been playing it like mad for eons and eons, with intelligence, strategy, finesse, creativity. Myriads of gods from all constellations clash on Terra Amata through interposed avatars.

There are even super gods from the Galactic Center. Beautiful linen and playing big. The addicts are in total intelligence with their avatars. They make them come, come, be born, die at will. Such an avatar will always be sick, such another never, we receive the cards without mufting. We lower our heads, we arch our backs, we play our role as best we can.

Some protest, rebel and no longer play anything. Losers. Others reap victories and rewards. The winners. Make no mistake, they are all losers. Nobody wins in the avatar camp. Warriors are trying to get out of the labyrinth, they are no better than sheep. We are all gladiators in the video game where the outcome, for the rest of us, is always death.

The only real benefit is for the countless gods who play on us and play on us. Who bet on us and who pocket fortunes thanks to our failures. Thanks to anything, they win. The gods can decide what they want, cheat as much as they want, change the rules at any time.

Ter Ra

Ter Ra means Third planet of the RA system, our star the Sun. This planet has been voted the top class playground by the divine player council. Expert gamers organize the terraformation, population and development of wild planets at a lower cost. It is the divine players, far away in front of their screens, who determine the fate of everyone here below as the fate of the planet. Deep doom indeed! Keep cool. They have put so much time and energy to develop it, we suspect that they will protect it against all odds.

Who can tell? The future is unknown to the gods themselves. Sometimes a classic, timeless game ceases to please and causes producers to lose fortunes. You have to know how to cut corners and get rid of a program that costs more than it pays. Terra Amata is not immune to a sudden disaffection from its audience.

In the meantime, even if the super gods fuck us in expert mode, we are enjoying the progress and the relentless improvements that many players are making to our environment, our languages, our technology and other areas where I have spotted divine intrusions. deus ex machina way …

Look no further, friend René. There it is, your continued creation. Divine players more numerous than the grains of sand of Terra Amata constantly bring improvements, inventions, variants, embellishments, in short, all these players allow the original terraformation to continue to benefit us. There I understand the stake for the gods. The game is the stake. They are addicts.

Descartes play cards

Fellow René is in Amsterdam, locked in his Delft tiled stove. Papers are scattered, blackened with feverish ink, a large quill pen is placed beside it. Ink stains smear a damp blotter. The old Petunian philosopher in exile: smokes pipe after pipe in a moist and overheated atmosphere. He is in his shirt, rather stripped down. Intoxicating smoke invades the room and the lungs of the philosopher. He slaps the clay pipe with the long neck on his palm, he carefully stuffs the small oblong hearth, well made for smearing hemp.

Yes, hemp. What else could he smoke? Tobacco would not be introduced in Europe until more than a century later. René stoned, paranoid, doubting everything, freaking out, René derouille, René gets wet: he has balls. He gives us his masterpiece, the Discourse on Method, in which he advocates doubt, affirms that our senses deceive us and other drugged hallucinations. Dear René! Illustrious precursor, the high has deceived him. He screwed up. And by the fault of a single bad trip, here is the whole West embarked on a single liner: Raison Garder, such is its name.

I say they are wrong, all of them wrong. It is madness that must be kept. Let’s leave reason to computers. Madness alone is sacred when reason is only a ladder.