A to Z: Oracle

Do you really want to know what your future holds?

Really?

The temple of the Oracle at Delphi
had its heyday in the 8th century BC.

Humanity has been fascinated with the divination of the future since day one, probably a product of the stress of our world's--and our own--unpredictability, matched with a discovery that some things could, indeed, be predicted: the rising of the sun, for example, or thunderstorms at certain times of the year, or failed crops under some circumstances.

This Mayan "calendar" isn't a
calendar at all, but more like a
Zodiac wheel. The "real" calendar
comprised three wheels.

In our age, when technology rules, when science is master of everything, you'd think divination might have gone the way of dragons and women with a headful of snakes instead of hair. Instead, at the turn of the millenium we had predictions on everything from Armageddon to Y2K. Last year some cuckoo preacher spread "reliable" intel that the world would end in May. Today, we have "scientists" proclaiming that, according to the Mayan calendar, the world will end in December.

Tarot and horoscope hotlines are the most profitable--even more so, I suspect, than porn ones. People that claim to "know" the future, whether via time travel, astral trips, or simple visons, draw huge followings.

Let's set skepticism aside for a moment, forget about whether any of this is or is not real. Imagine it is--imagine you can know, today--right now--what your future holds. The day you're going to die. Who you'll marry, or how many children you'll have. When the Iraq war will end. Whether that choice you're making right now is the correct one. What, and how much, you'll regret on your deathbed.

The Delphi Oracle at work,
depicted in a ceramic plate.

Would you want to know?

Here's the thing: as much as the future and its unknowability baffles and frustrates us, it's also the very same reason we have hope. It's no mistake that the one little critter that Pandora managed to catch back as she slammed her fateful box shut was hopelessness.

It's not money that makes the world go round. It's not love.

It's hope.


P.S.--I'm guest-blogging today over at Deb O'Neille's blog, Writing Against The Wind, on Critique vs. Cheerleading. Come take a look & join the conversation!