Why Spiritual and Religious People are Racist Against Apes

Unmasking "Apeism": Why We Invent Divine Narratives to Escape Our Evolutionary Heritage

The Missing Primate in Spiritual Imagery

Have you ever wondered why Christians and New Agers don’t post declarations of their faith with chimpanzees or gorillas on Facebook? You know, the typical post with “Jesus is Lord” next to a lion or “The Lord is Your Shepherd” with Jesus holding a sheep. The New Age version might feature a dolphin splashing in the background, with “Raise Your Vibration,” “Ascension is Near,” etc.

But why are apes excluded from these thumbnails? When did lions, whales, and cuddly wolves steal the show from our ape relatives? Shouldn’t chimpanzees be the poster children of our proud existence?

Although the answer is obvious, I’ll say it this way:

“We are living on the planet of the apes, and the apes don’t know they’re apes.”

The Shame of Our Genetic Heritage

I think there’s an underlying, unconscious sense of shame among humans due to their genetic chimpanzee heritage. It’s akin to how someone might feel after moving from a poverty-stricken neighborhood to a wealthier area of the city and then actively avoiding any association with their less fortunate past.

The idea of being compared to apes is something humans tend to strongly dislike! This is suspicious to me, because what’s wrong with primates? Are they less worthy of admiration than lions and dolphins? (a little too close to home?)

This may be why they invent grandiose stories about their divinity. Declarations ranging from “I am a Child of God” to “I am God” position human primates within the celestial category. No longer are they lowly material beings. They are cosmic celebrities. And any ridiculous story will do as long as it separates them from silly-looking chimpanzees.

Defining "Apeism" and the Soul Illusion

I am going to call this perplexing oddity “Apeism,” short for monkey racism.

This is why spiritual and religious ideologies deny evolution and dissociate from the natural world. They are spiritual beings, “souls” inside bodies. Scientology, the mothership of substance dualism, calls them “Thetans,” which are invisible beings operating human meat suits. And for the low price of $100,000 dollars and thousands of hours of head-smacking self-interrogation, you can join the ranks of elite apes pretending to be Marvel Heroes.

Transmigration and the Human Animal Experience

I am not suggesting there isn’t an afterlife. We may indeed float out of our mortal coils into ethereal realms far more interesting than this sandbox. Thousands of NDEs are reported globally, describing fantastical dimensions of timelessness that make earthly life look like quicksand. In some cases, witnesses say they have been gone months, just minutes after resurrecting, with vivid descriptions that defy the ability of a dying brain.

If our souls transmigrate, what would be the point of being human if we dissociate from it? How can one have a human animal experience if they spend their lives identifying as a ball of light in a monkey costume?

On the other side of the spectrum, Atheists are more likely to accept their “apeness” and resign their disembodied state. But realizing we are human animals does not require an atheistic perspective. People from all walks of life exist without discarnate confessions if given the chance to grow up without hereditary religion.

The Biological Clock and the Illusion of Free Will

If the Simulation Hypothesis is true, that we live in a digital matrix, then the avatars would be programmed as their character. However, the question begs, could the plot involve becoming self-aware of the video game? To self-realize the protagonist in an elaborate script as a human primate suffering from an identity problem? Who knows, the idea invokes a smirk.

Hours could be spent speculating about existential matters, but the one thing that is self-evident and requires no faith is our biological clock. It is an automatic mechanism born from millions of years of natural selection. And because of this evolutionary continuum, when we unpack our bestial selves, there is no one operating the levers — free will, the crux of religious programming, is an illusion.

Memento Mori: Confronting the Abyss

Another motivator for our cognitive dissonance is death anxiety — Memento Mori — remember you must die. This shock to consciousness puts us on a roller coaster, with the foreknowledge that we will careen off the tracks without assurances of survival. This horror of consciousness haunts us in the wee hours of the night, molesting our dreams and tempting negotiations with the Grim Reaper. We have nowhere to go on this conveyor belt but forward into the abyss.

Do I have a happy ending for you? Nope. But I do have a recommendation. Make yourself useful on terra firma and live your animal life to the fullest. Donate to charitable causes. Help stop domestic violence. Create some fantastic art. Investigate your psyche and become a self-realized sapien. Write down your bucket list and leap into the adventure.

Alternatively, I simply watch the circus while occasionally glancing at my watch.

Thank you for reading,

― Zzenn

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