www.m-w.com/dictionary/oxymoron

Main Entry: ox·y·mo·ron
Pronunciation: \ˌäk-sē-ˈmȯr-ˌän\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural ox·y·mo·ra

: a combination of contradictory or incongruous words (as cruel kindness); broadly : something (as a concept) that is made up of contradictory or incongruous elements

you say “Everything that is real is physical. If something is not physical, then it is not real. ”

what about consciousness?
what about an idea?

i can think of an apple, but that’s not an apple, it’s an idea. the apple in my mind can not be measured in any physical way, but that does not mean my idea is not real.

thoughts can and have sparked many a movement.

is honor not real? what about justice? what about love? do these things not have a non-physical component?

in his book ‘the mysterious universe’ sir james jeans wrote that our stream of scientific knowledge is heading towards a non-mechanical reality; he wrote that the universe looked to him more like a great thought than a great machine.

one of the passages in the book really stuck out to me. (i am paraphrasing here) he contemplated a poet writing about a sunset. he visualized a chain of events (a,b,c…x,y,z) starting with a photon (a) leaving the sun, (b) traveling through space, (c) hitting our atmosphere,… all the way to the end of the chain where the photon hits the eye of the poet, causing the chain reaction of events involving the various parts of the eye and nervous system and arm, hand, & fingers (j,k,l,m, etc), culminating in the pencil moving across the paper as the poem is being composed (…x,y,z).

his point was that the beginning of the chain and the end of the chain must share some common intrinsic value that is connects all the links. link (a) must share some basic elements with link (b) and (c) all the way down to (z). and he believed that the universe was based in thought (which is apparently not real) and NOT matter (which is real).

he thought the universe existed as thought in the mind of a supernatural being.

Jeans also believed that that quantum mechanical waves and fields could be responsible for consciousness.

now this is not little ol’ natedog, but James Jeans, one of the forefathers that helped usher in the Quantum Era.

anyway. all the great minds and scientists have written about the mysticism of the universe. all the greats were interested in the part of reality that is not made up of atoms.

Reboot: “if you continue to believe in God, you are doing so in defiance of all logic, reason and evidence.”

you sound like hitler’s sidekick. people can have faith without being insane.

and Smedlo: i never said things don’t evolve. things change, it’s obvious. but as far as explaining the origin of life out of non-life, evolution falls short.

anyway, to clarify my point, here is an excerpt from the book “The Raw Shark Texts” by Steven Hall. this passage shows the power of words and how observation and thought can create whole worlds. It scratches the surface of the fact that the universe is a universe based in thought, existing in the mind of the creator:

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Imagine you’re in a rowing boat on a lake.

It’s summer, early morning. That time when the sun hasn’t quite broken free of the landscape and long, projected shadows tigerstripe the light. The rays are warm on your skin as you drift through them, but in the shadows the air is still cold, greyness holding onto the undersides and edges wherever it can.

A low clinging breeze comes and goes, racing ripples across the water and gently rocking you and your boat as you float in yin-yang slices of morning. Birds are singing. It’s a sharp, clear sound, clean without the humming backing track of a day well underway. There’s the occasional sound of wind in leaves and the occasional slap-splash of a larger wavelet breaking on the side of your boat, but nothing else.

You reach over the side and feel the shock of the water, the steady bob of the lake’s movement playing up and down your knuckles in a rhythm of cold. You pull your arm back; you enjoy the after-ache in your fingers. Holding out your hand, you close your eyes and feel the tiny physics of gravity and resistance as the liquid routes across your skin, builds itself into droplets of the required weight, then falls, each drop ending with an audible tap.

Now, right on that tap – stop. Stop imagining. Here’s the real game. Here’s what’s obvious and wonderful and terrible all at the same time: the lake in my head, the lake I was imagining, has JUST BECOME THE LAKE IN YOUR HEAD. It doesn’t matter if you never know me, or never know anything about me. I could be dead, I could have been dead a hundred years before you were even born and still – think about this carefully, think past the obvious sense of it to the huge and amazing miracle hiding inside – the lake in my head has become the lake in your head.

Behind or inside or through the two hundred and eighteen words that made up my description, behind or inside or through those nine hundred and sixty-nine letters, there is some kind of flow. A purely conceptual stream with no mass or weight or matter and no ties to gravity or time, a stream that can only be seen if you choose to look at it from the precise angle we are looking from now, but there, nevertheless, a stream flowing directly from my imaginary lake to yours.