I recently took a vacation to Florida to see my family on my dad’s side. What does this have to do with science fiction you ask? Well, I’ll get there. It’s not like being with my family is exploring strange new worlds, but I realized what a family I had. A bunch of dorks who love each other. My entire family, for the most part, is also deeply interested in science fiction. My Grandmother is an avid Deep Space Nine fan, my Aunt studied Astronomy and Astrology, my cousin Heather draws anime and loves the fantastical, my little brother and sister were watching a program on NASA and loving it. My step mom and I stayed up late one night talking about my recent discoveries about NASA from the book I am reading Dark Mission: The Secret History of NASA by Richard C. Hoagland.

But the most interesting thing was the conversation with my Dad. I hate to hurt him by telling him that I no longer believe that Jesus is God, but he truly wanted to know, and cares about the state of my soul. And I’ve been contemplating the idea of Alien Astronomers because it excited the imagination and the writer in me.

I grew up believing the stories of the Bible. I’ve never lost some, for whatever reason, some belief in their truth. And now, as silly as it might be, I am interested in the idea of an alien origin. Because there are things that don’t make sense… How were the pyramids built? How were the humongous stones transported to these ancient Mayan ruins? Alien origin basically suggests the similar stories to the Bible. A God far more advanced than ourselves who we originally worshipped, and who now I have departed from. It does not solve all origin questions, but what if our Gods are merely flawed creatures like ourselves? Ala Blade Runner. There is more to Roy’s quest than maybe we realize.

So questions arise like, what if death really is a disease? What if 2001: A Space Odyssey is more than a mind blowing cinematic opera, but a more accurate history of our origin? But of course, questions like this are only interesting to my imagination. Facts are what I try to ground my life in, sometimes. For what’s important I suppose.

So I no longer believe in God because whatever God is- all knowing, perfect, or merely alien- I cannot believe that God knows more about my life than I do. This being may well know more than I do, there are plenty of humans who do, but does he know more about what is best for me than I do? Not unless he lives every moment through me. And then, am I not god or at least part god myself? Because that god is then filtering all things through me. Have you ever had anyone try to tell you about love? Relationship advice… Like they know what’s best for you. But how can they know? They can tell you what is socially acceptable, but as to the true feelings, the mysterious feelings that you share with another, they know nothing about that love. They only know their only love. This might not be good enough for you, but as a believer in myself, it is good for me. I follow Whitman, I will know all things through me. All morality, all goodness, all life. I think there is no better source.

Next, I am not afraid of hell. Hell is the absence of God. I am ready to live my life without worshiping another (though as stated above, I do follow others. Whitman, Tolstoy, Joyce, Socrates for example). I only care about life now, what I know I have. And I only know these things through me. This is what I had to tell my Dad, who is hurt deeply, because now he knows I am going to hell. My life on earth is lived without God, and it is not hell. I will risk whatever afterlife there is not to live in fear. Fear of anything. And rather than hell, I feel the opposite. I feel heaven on earth. I believe that is attainable. And I find bits of it daily, especially here in Los Angeles, my city soul mate.

Hoagland, in the Secret History of NASA book has proposed that there is a 4^th dimension. And what fascinates me about that is that it fits within the Christian construct of the history of the world that I grew up with. And he uses scientific principles and predictions to support his theory. So I am floored. My imagination soars through these stories, relating fact and fiction, probably in a dangerous way. But if I can write another interesting science fiction movie from it, what harm is done, right? Wrong. So I will try to understand the facts. I don’t just believe everything I read. But I will use exciting ideas in my stories.

The movie Prometheus and the recent Battlestar Galactica deal with our alien origins. And again, alien origins does not solve all origin problems, just pushes it to another mysterious place, but it would help us know that the gods we still worship are not much better than we ourselves. I mean, we are now space explorers. We did put a man on the moon. I hope, I think, I believe. And we could get to Mars. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t begin colonization. I mean, we should have a backup for when we destroy this planet. And I really want to see life (ours or alien or both) on Mars.

So these science fiction roots do not come from just myself, but they are rooted in my entire family. We have a desire to know more than ourselves (even if I believe in myself). And I think that was a pretty neat realization. I shall continue to explore these strange new worlds…