h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

> "On account of hearsay, I am less defended. Please explain, for I do not know the legal procedures very well at all."

Hearsay, in a court of law, means saying "I heard from somebody that X did Y" - this is not admissable evidence. Either you must say who told you, in which case they should get on the witness stand and say it themselves, or you must say it yourself and justify it.

I don't know where you got it from, but it's quite clear to me that Jesus is supposed to have been raised on the third day, early in the morning (6am?) -

John, 20:1- "The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, unto the sepulchre, and seeth the stone taken away from the sepulchre."

Now, since Jesus died on the ninth hour of the Friday( Matthew 27:46 ), that means he was dead for one days and 9 hours.

Now, if friday is the first day, saturday(sabbath) is the second, and sunday(first day of the week) is the third, then Jesus rose *on the third day*. But he was *not* dead for three days.

Not that that will help our friend Vume, of course - he seems to have departed...

tut, tut JAR - driving people away...

Aha! Thank you for explaining it to me. I have had problems with more that one american courtroom-drama because of that phrase.

Having failed to read the backlog, I must admit I'm a bit unsure exactly what I said about Jesus and "dead-days", but I belive what you said about "raised _on_ the third day" not "dead _for_ three days" is what I meant.. Niuce to agree isn't it?

Poor Vume. I wonder where he went? It was such a nice debate. The first I joined here in this community. (Actually, I joined up for that conversation!)

See you around Lucinda!

JAR, Driver Away of People

PS! Where did you get the hours? I admit to not having read the Bible too thoroughly (or at all ), and I don't remember any hours..)

I think I gave the verse in mathew where we get the time of death as "on the ninth hour" (pm). He was actually buried some time in the early hours of the following day.

As for 6am, that's just a wild guess - it's any time before light.
Personally, I've never seen 6am, so I don't know whether it's light then...

I remember once in the military I was up around 6:30... it was dark then...

Jesus said (Matthew 10:13), "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.' For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners."

Good one. About four weeks ago I bought a copy of the King James Revised Standard Version Bible for $1 at a fair. Apparently it's already been reviewed. Just about all of it, though, is news to me.

I come from a strict religious background. There was strictly no religion involved. Even so, it was my own idea to attend church when I was 10. During a game of soccer one lunchtime at Omanu Primary School in Mt Maunganui, I belted the ball through the window of a church, and went in to retrieve it. I felt bad about that. Most of my fulminating left-foot screamers were more accurate than that day's useless effort.

Since then, it's only been funerals and weddings that have led me to trudge towards houses of worship. The devout mate who had a flash wedding in a big church, and left his wife about six months later, turning up at my door with a suitcase in one hand and a loudmouthed blonde in the other. The gay colleague with a Christian upbringing who committed suicide and who used to snicker that he'd never slept with anyone over 16. At his service, the songs included Kate Bush's "The Man with the Child in His Eyes". I turned to the guy next to me and whispered, "The Man with the Child in His Pants."

It gets worse. My father's funeral was held in a church, and of course all our family were sick with grief, with sorrow, with hopelessness. But there was one moment of terrific humour. The minister, a wet, well-meaning fellow, got up and droned on for what seemed like four days. It was like the guy would never shut up' The very boringness of it was like a skit, a comedy routine; he came up with a whole cast of names from the Bible, complete strangers, people we'd never heard of." Too right it relieved the pain. "Who the hell," one of my brothers said to me, holding his jaw to contain his laughter, "is he talking about? Did Dad know them?" Well, that did me in. So there you have it: I burst out hooting at my father's funeral.

"Repent," preached John the Baptist (Matthew 3:2), "for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!" Crikey, is it? Three snakes have turned up at ports in snake-free New Zealand this year. Christchurch's Hagley Park is reportedly suffering the vile presence of hundreds, possibly thousands of rats. A foreign mite is killing our bees. Visitations, plagues, omens ... Perhaps it's no accident that the Bible has come into my hands at this time.

Brilliant book. Nearly finished it. Bits and pieces of the Old Testament remain in my mind. Deuteronomy, 23:1: "He whose testicles are crushed or whose male member is cut off shall not enter the assembly of the Lord." Kings 1, 11:1: "King Solomon loved many foreign women: the daughter of Pharaoh, and Moabite, Ammonite, Edomite, Sidonian, and Hittite women ... He had seven hundred wives, princesses, and three hundred concubines." I wish I could find the part about the bad guy who was riding along on a jackass, and got his head stuck in the branches of a tree; someone heard about it, and rushed off to stick a spear in his heart. God said (Job, 40:15) that the first animal he created on the fourth day was the hippo.

I genuinely adored a lot of the Old Testament stories, but couldn't wait to get to the gospels of the New Testament. Progress was made easier by skipping the Psalms, the Proverbs and the Song of Solomon. Similarly, the Acts of the Apostles, which take up where the resurrection leaves off, were of no interest. All I wanted was the life of Jesus.

"This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased." God's remark (Matthew 4:17), after Jesus is baptised, is my favourite thing in the entire Bible. I love it. All the excruciating, furious dramas and sufferings pause for one second of blessed peace, of goodness. It may well be the first time since the Earth's creation in Genesis that the Bible actually smiles.

And the worst moment is also in the gospels: Easter. "I thirst," said Jesus, on the cross; and then, his dying words (John 20:30), "It is finished." Long before the crucifixion, he tells the disciples pretty much exactly how he will be murdered, but it's still absolutely shocking - the spear, the ninth hour, the tomb. The agony.

After the resurrection, Jesus said (Matthew, 28:20), "I am with you always, to the close of the age." A happy ending? Depends whether you believe.

When you go to a funeral, what is the one thing that is always said no matter who died? the saying is "they have gone to a better place." well if that is true, why don't we all kill ourselves to go to that better place? we don't do that because it is stupid, what if there is NO better place, life on earth is all there is...then we have wiped out all human race. So then why say that the dead ones have gone to a better place? i want to know if death really is the beggining or not! i mean there has to be some sort of life after death, we can't just appear alive, then appear dead, there has to be a meaning for it all.

> "well if that is true, why don't we all kill ourselves to go to that better place?"

What's the rush? We have an eternity to be in the better place. Till then, the game called life beckons.

Whatever anyone says (here); it doesn't stop me fearing death...
(..Or is a fear of not acheiving anything worthwhile and memorably in your time??)
I have no belief to reassure me..and no comfort in knowing in any of these inevitable facts.

I welcome serious feedback

So, assuming that I am afraid of Death, is it the pain involved, or perhaps that I am afraid not so much of the pain but by the degree of it? The thought of eternity in oblivion or that those who are left behind will for eternity be oblivious to me in that I no longer exist and am therefore irrelevant, despite all the good that I did when I was on their side?

I don’t believe there can be ‘fear of the unknown. There is always some knowledge available in a scary situation to dry the mouth or encourage a grey hair or two. To say that we don’t know what happens after we die (for example) is a bit much. Lets put our cards on the table here and step outside of the ‘spiritual’. We die; we know that for a start. Sometimes it’s going to hurt; sometimes it’s not, depending on our levels of awareness at the time and perhaps a little help from chemicals. After we die there is no ‘after’ for us, only those that pay for the funeral and join in with the salmon sandwiches to send us on our way to…nowhere. I’m dead therefore I’m not! That unknown, beyond the veil rubbish is NOTHING to be afraid of, because it is nothing and you can’t fret about nowt.

This fear thing is promoted by (among others) those end of the pier medium types whom you see on posters looking all Christ like and will be appearing this week at the Dog and Duck. They make a LIVING out of the DEAD who can’t answer back because they are DEAD! ‘Is there anybody in the audience called John? Thank you! Would the other twenty seven of you put your hands down, I would like to speak to you John.’ John looks amazed and his wife Mary becomes tearful. The Medium who is probably called something like Steven Savage, speaks with an effeminate accent, is very tanned and has blonde streaks in his hair, is concerned that Mary is tearful and proclaims, ‘John, can I tell you that I can feel that there is some sadness in your life’ Mary is now weeping uncontrollably. Steven continues, ‘I’m feeling that you are surrounded by death and I’m getting the letter ‘S’’. Mary is wailing now and John is nodding his head in agreement. John says, ‘Yes we recently lost our Siamese cat called Brynner. Steven says ‘Thank you John, there’s the ‘S’ in Siamese you see. I can tell you that Brynner is fine and he is grateful for all the love that you showed him’ John says, ‘Sorry Steven, Brynner was a female’ Steven counters with, ‘Are you sure John, I’m definitely getting male here?’ John replies, ‘We had her for eighteen years and she had four litters before we had her done’. Steven says sheepishly, ‘Thanks for your time John, anyone called Sue in the audience?’ And so and so on. People like our friend Steven cultivate ‘fear of’ by giving us watertight evidence of an existence after life. In reality it’s about as watertight as grass is blue but it’s a fantastic way to make a LIVING. There is no proof and a lot of fear to be exploited and harvest.

On the other hand I could hypothesize until my dying day about whether I will come back as, who knows, Steven Savage? A Siamese cat? I might ascend to Heaven or descend to somewhere warmer. Another dimension, backwards or forwards in time. Perhaps we all live forever but just inhabit a different body when this one gives up the ghost?

IS THERE ANYTHING TO BE AFRAID OF? It’s a scary question; can somebody out there, perhaps somebody who has passed over, help me with an answer? Hang on I’m getting the number 47 and someone called Brian. Hello Brian! What’s it like over there?

I think it has been determined that Death is a concerning matter at least to many people. Why? Because of the fact that noone truely knows what is to come of it (as stated by WratheBorel, hence Steven Savage's carreer).

However I believe the definition of 'Death' is being overconsidered, or rather, wrongly defined here. This conversation, which was started as a plea to find a more serious and clear definition, has hence become a quest for the definiton of things like 'Heaven' and 'Hell,' as well as a discussion of whether or not those two concepts actually do exist.

While I find this conversation to be very interesting (I have spent the last half hour reading the entries) I believe that Death should be defined. With disregard to dictionaries and proper definition form here is what I think:

Death only takes a moment to occure, there is a point in time (not any amount of time mind you, a point) where before, a person is living, and where after, that person is dead. Death, I believe, is the action of passing this point. In this way, the original definition, I consider to be generally correct, though very much tounge in cheek. Now whether dead is to be defined as brain-dead or physically dead, or anything else, I can't say, and I leave that open to discussion.

-Jim

Personally, as Death pays my bills (not in the physical sense of the anthropomorphic representation turning up at my local TSB to pay in a cheque, scythe in hand; more in the allegorical sense (I'm a funeral director)) I fail to see the downside to dying.
I'm quite looking forward to it - I'll get a tidy night's sleep for once!

This was an interesting conversation, one the one hand "vume is right" you have to believe in order to seek the truth. However you don't have to believe to exist, or indeed believe in a creator, but you do have to believe your senses, all six of 'em or however many you percieve that you have, you have to believe them.

Now to really bake your noodle,

What if you didn't believe your senses and assumed that everything that you had ever experienced was merely a projection of your subconcious mind. You then would loose contact with this reality and have big problems.

So you do have to believe in somethings in order to function.

I didn't like the bit at the very beginning that suggests that what we do in life is unimportant. I happen to Believe that what we do in life echoes in eternity.

I also believe in reincarnation so death is not ultimately final, our lives are for learning and enjoying and a glorious death would be a nice
end, and the quest for one gives vitality, which is important, stuff these nano bots keeping you alive for ever, it'd be torture, IMHO.