Ten Commandments: What I Want for My Children

My oldest child is six years old, turning seven in a few months. She believes in Santa Claus and in the religious view of the world. She believes that God exists, that Jesus actually returned to life from the dead, and that the stories taught in her Bible are unproblematic. My daughter has a strong mind and a very big heart, and she’s full of passion. One day, she will realize that Santa doesn't fly through the night on Christmas Eve. She’ll figure out all by herself that a lot of what the Bible relates is evil, irrational, and generally irrelevant.

And the Bible is most certainly a text to be questioned seriously. For example, if one accepts the Noah’s Ark story as true, then God killed an awful lot of people and animals. Across the planet, they all died in a most horrific way. If one believes the Jesus story, then God sacrificed himself to himself – rather egocentric and not much of a sacrifice, really. Since just declaring faith that Jesus is God gets people out of "hell" and into "heaven," one wonders why the omniscient deity did not offer the belief option to Noah’s generation.

I have full confidence that one day, all my children will arrive at the conclusion that religion is man-made and that gods are fictional. When we get to this point, I will talk to them about morality and about basic principles for living an upstanding life. Since they will have already heard of the Ten Commandments, I may offer them a list of precepts like the following:

(1) You are a human being, one of many humans past and present. You are connected and yet different from other people. You are connected yet different from other animals on Earth. You are connected yet different from the Earth that is your home. Respect yourself and all that share connection with you.

(2) You are neither inferior nor superior to anyone or anything. Develop your own opinions, values, and ideas. Be willing to share, discuss and even change your mind. But don’t compromise your integrity. Ultimately, the only help is self-help.

(3) Watch your language. In all matters, speak carefully, considerately, and charitably - but especially when speaking about people. Listen vigorously and ask thoughtful questions. Challenge and criticize bad ideas, even when good people hold them.

(4) Care for both your body and your mind. Nourish them, exercise them, and rest them. Avoid agitating them, but don’t avoid a challenge. Follow your passions, but don’t allow them to govern you.

(5) Respect your mother, your father, your elders, and your ancestors because your life includes some of their lives. Respect is not reverence, and it’s not blind devotion. Those who have come before you have lived, struggled, succeeded, failed, loved, lost and journeyed in much the same way as you do now.

(6) Respect all life, your life and other lives. No one has more right to live than anyone or anything else.

(7) Appreciate relationships, especially romantic relationships. Cherish your own relationships and do not disturb others’.

(8) Respect ownership. Take only what has been freely given to you and what you have legitimately purchased. Express gratitude to people; giving and sharing freely is the highest form of expressing gratitude.

(9) Speak up to help people when they are in trouble. Don’t lie about others. Don't permit injustice.

(10) Enjoy your life now and all that you have. Every day is unique and unrepeatable.

This is how I write ten basic principles. I place a premium on respect for people, living things, and relationships. My children may write their principles differently. They may focus on respect differently than I do. They may add more items to the list or subtract some. When the time comes, we'll talk about it. That's the point, ultimately.

And note that I have deliberately avoided the word "commandment." I cannot command my children to believe what I believe how I believe. I should not do so. My children are not Christian, Jewish or Atheist. They will one day and by themselves tell me what they are at that time. I will accept and respect their decisions.

I look forward to talking with my children some day about reality and about happiness. I hope for many conversations about personal character, values, and accomplishment. My children deserve these conversations. They deserve to know that I think they should live fully and wonderfully. They deserve to know that I think they can indeed live so, that all people can.

What I want for my children goes well beyond a holiday or a season. I want them to have a life, a life of many lives. I want them not to have the world but to be an active and positive part of it. And I want them to think of their contribution in terms of the universe, not just the world. Ultimately, I want them to connect themselves to the real universe, not a filtered and fictional one.

Keith Jarrett: Boldly Going

Having been a serious Keith Jarrett fan for about 20 years, I can say unreservedly that Jarrett has been the musical artist of my maturity. I own almost 30 different Keith Jarrett recordings, and I have seen him perform live with Gary Peacock and Jack DeJohnette. Jarrett remains a central figure in my listening, even though in recent years, I have branched out to the music of such performers as Marilyn Crispell, Dave Holland, Evan Parker, Irene Schweitzer, Tomasz Stanko, Bobo Stenson, Esbjorn Svensson, Ralph Towner, and John Zorn.

Jarrett’s catalogue is quite diverse. I have several recordings with the American Quartet, which included Charlie Haden, Paul Motian and Dewey Redman. This was a hot group, bridled and bristling with tension. The Survivor’s Suite is, to my mind, their most stunning effort. Jarrett’s European Quartet was perhaps more celebrated. Drummer Jon Christensen and bassist Palle Danielsson are spectacular players, but saxophonist Jan Garbarek was a superstar to rival Jarrett. Garbarek played with an utterly singular combination of tenderness, soul, and intensity. Songs such as “Sunshine Song,” “Blossom,” “Long as You’re Livin’ Yours,” and “The Journey Home” capture this quartet at its stunning best.

Since the 1980s, Jarrett has teamed up with Peacock and DeJohnette in the so-called “Standards Trio.” But the group has made two very good “free” recordings. The group is highly professional, sometimes a bit self-indulgent, but just awesome in their collective powers.

Jarrett’s solo piano recordings have been the main draw for me. The first one I owned contained concerts from Bremen and Lausanne. I had never heard anything like it before, but I connected with it immediately. Here was Jarrett, totally bold, walking onto stage and composing on the spot. He was improvising, but he was composing also. To me, that’s the essential difference between Jarrett and many free players. Jarrett doesn’t just play and let the notes extend off into the stratosphere. He’s at once trying to bring out a form from the notes and to let that form morph into something else. And that's what was so exciting for me, the fact that I was going on this journey too and discovering what was to come. He wrung these lush, rich sounds out of the piano. He music expressed exuberance as well as reverence, and he was a font for endlessly emerging musical ideas.

As a listener, I appreciate the daring and the risk-taking of a performer like Jarrett. I admire Jarrett’s continued willingness to experiment and explore in and through his music. I no longer follow Jarrett single-mindedly like I once did, but I see Jarrett’s music as part of my life for the rest of my life. I think this is because in my impending maturity I still see living life as a kind of improvisation, as a daring expression that must be taken up boldly. As long as I see things this way, Jarrett’s music is relevant, indeed central, to my life.

Against Interpretation

I don’t trust interpretation. I take very little stock in it.

Many years ago, a scholar (and now sometime New York Times columnist) Stanley Fish wrote a fairly famous essay called “How to Recognize a Poem When You See One.” The essay is terribly interesting because it reveals how great, consistent interpretations can be made without any basis in reality. An interpretation is very much a work of art. It is much less so a legitimate hypothesis about the world.

I’ll try to summarize what I see as the important part of the essay. Fish’s students, who are learning about English religious poetry of the seventeenth century, walk into their classroom and see this on the chalkboard:

Jacobs-Rosenbaum
Levin
Thorne
Hayes
Ohman (?)

This list had been put on the board for the class preceding the one on religious poetry. It is actually a list of surnames. These are linguists and literary theorists: Roderick Jacobs, Peter Rosenbaum, Samuel Levin, J. P. Thorne, and so on.

Here’s what happens next, according to Fish:

When the members of the second class filed in I told them that what they saw on the blackboard was a religious poem of the kind they had been studying and I asked them to interpret it. Immediately they began to perform in a manner that, for reasons which will become clear, was more or less predictable. The first student to speak pointed out that the poem was probably a hieroglyph, although he was not sure whether it was in the shape of a cross or an altar. This question was set aside as the other students, following his lead, began to concentrate on individual words, interrupting each other with suggestions that came so quickly that they seemed spontaneous. The first line of the poem (the very order of events assumed the already constituted status of the object) received the most attention: Jacobs was explicated as a reference to Jacob's ladder, traditionally allegorized as a figure for the Christian ascent to heaven. In this poem, however, or so my students told me, the means of ascent is not a ladder but a tree, a rose tree or rosenbaum. This was seen to be an obvious reference to the Virgin Mary who was often characterized as a rose without thorns, itself an emblem of the immaculate conception. At this point the poem appeared to the students to be operating in the familiar manner of an iconographic riddle. It at once posed the question, "How is it that a man can climb to heaven by means of a rose tree?" and directed the reader to the inevitable answer: by the fruit of that tree, the fruit of Mary's womb, Jesus. Once this interpretation was established it received support from, and conferred significance on, the word "thorne," which could only be an allusion to the crown of thorns, a symbol of the trial suffered by Jesus and of the price he paid to save us all. It was only a short step (really no step at all) from this insight to the recognition of Levin as a double reference, first to the tribe of Levi, of whose priestly function Christ was the fulfillment, and second to the unleavened bread carried by the children of Israel on their exodus from Egypt, the place of sin, and in response to the call of Moses, perhaps the most familiar of the old testament types of Christ. The final word of the poem was given at least three complementary readings: it could be "omen," especially since so much of the poem is concerned with foreshadowing and prophecy; it could be Oh Man, since it is man’s story as it intersects with the divine plan that is the poem's subject; and it could, of course, be simply "amen," the proper conclusion to a poem celebrating the love and mercy shown by a God who gave his only begotten son so that we may live.

I ask you: how can you trust interpretation after reading this? Anything, anything at all, can be interpreted. And it can be interpreted in ways that are insightful, sensible, and worldview-changing.

These students get an interpretive frame – it’s a religious poem – and then proceed to hook up the text to the frame. I have no doubt that the students could have developed an equally viable interpretation with a different frame.

And this is why I find a religious view of the world hard to take seriously: it’s just a frame, after all. However happy religious adherents claim to be, however beautiful their cities, however tender their friendships, however healthy their children, however skilled their artists, however abundant their harvests, and however kind their weather – the religious view is just a frame. (Forgive me, Ursula K. Le Guin.)

An interpretive frame is not reality, and it need not be reality. Rather, it is a fiction, a scenario, an imposition. Reality and truth are incidental, maybe even accidental, to the frame. Don’t get me wrong, interpretations are great. I love ‘em. But I don’t trust ‘em. They seem to me like the object of caution in Bob Dylan's song: “And don't go mistaking Paradise / For that home across the road.”

Now, some smart person might rightly challenge that I should examine and criticize my own interpretive frames. I go after the religious frame, that person will say, so why not go after the non-religious frame too? This would be a fair question, but let's remember that the religious frame dictates, among other things, the existence of an interventionalist supernatural being that cannot be seen or independently verified. Indeed, only texts and tradition insist that such a being exists or ever has existed. In its positive claims about reality, the religious frame imposes a more restrictive view than an atheist frame.

My atheist frame, too, is an imposition, but one that does not introduce an inscrutable being. It is less restrictive than the religious frame insofar as it does not necessarily rule out a god or gods. In other words, the atheist frame is not necessarily anti-theist whereas the theist frame is automatically anti-atheist. The difference between religious and atheist frames is one of degree rather than kind: the religious frame assumes the existence of things, and their fundamental stability, when it has no justification to do so. The atheist frame makes assumptions and claims about reality, but invites the independent testing and questioning of these assumptions and claims.

Regardless of whether one applies a religious or an atheist frame to some text, interpretation is suspect. The worst interpretations seek to confirm the frame itself, and confirm it from within rather than independently. For instance, they will approach a poem as a religious artifact, and they will produce a reading shows the poem expressing religious ideas. This inside operation - also known as confirmation bias - is the sort of reasoning we need to be cognizant of and that we need to avoid, if our goal is to get closer to reality.

No Historical Jesus?

A modern American person cannot escape Jesus. That name, that imagery and iconography, the followers - Jesus is everywhere. If one is not a Christian, life can feel like a constant argument against a steady barrage of Jesus 'facts' and 'theology.' Just to get some peace from the world, many Jews tend to take the position that "Jesus was a good guy, a Jew like me who had some great ethical teachings."

Unfortunately, many who profess to be Christian know very little about the history of Christian beliefs or about the many serious questions surrounding the historicity of Jesus. They rarely seek to know if any physical and historical evidence actually supports the hypothesis that Jesus existed as a person in the world.

The rarity may seem strange since, presumably, Jesus is the central figure of Christianity. Except that often the centrality of Jesus seems not to be the case. In the beliefs and practices of even major holidays, such as Christmas and Easter, Jesus is not so much a person as the person that stuff happened to. Someone was miraculously born of a virgin (who was herself born of a virgin) in a stable? Oh, it was Jesus. Someone was crucified and later rose from the dead? Oh, it was Jesus.

I've always been struck at the emptiness of Jesus, and I think this emptiness may actually contribute to keeping people in the churches. All the shit happened to Jesus, but he doesn't ask anything of you directly. His emissaries in church ask, but you know them and they're OK. Go to church and celebrate the shit that happened, and then pass the money over to the emissaries.

It's about being together in a community and affirming that shit happens. It's not about Jesus; it's about the shit that happened. It's not about Jesus; it's about Christianity.

And so we come to Timothy Freke and Peter Gandy, authors of The Jesus Mysteries, who offer a different view of Jesus and Christianity. As I see it, they hypothesize that modern Christianity is based around one big misunderstanding about Jesus. They say:

The traditional history of Christianity is hopelessly inadequate to the facts. From our research into ancient spirituality it has become obvious that we must fundamentally revise our understanding of Christian origins in the most shocking of ways. Our conclusion, supported by a considerable body of evidence in our book, The Jesus Mysteries, is that Christianity was not a new revelation. It was a continuation of Paganism by another name. The gospel story of Jesus is not the biography of an historical Messiah. It is a Jewish reworking of ancient Pagan myths of the dying and resurrecting Godman Osiris-Dionysus, which had been popular for centuries throughout the ancient Mediterranean.

The similarity of the Jesus narrative to pagan myths is well known. In modern times, however, we tend to equate myths with lies. This is not how the ancient world understood myths.

It is hard for us today to imagine the Jesus story being consciously created, but this is because we have misunderstood ancient spirituality. Myths were not seen as untruths as they are now. They were understood as allegories of spiritual initiation, which encoded profound mystical teachings. Reworking old myths to create new ones was a standard practice in the ancient world.

These are serious and high-impact claims being made. It should be noted that neither author is, so far as I know, an academic researcher. But folks such as G.A. Wells, Gerd Lüdemann, and many others have done real work that makes a "Christ-myth" theory not only viable but very likely. After all, according to the myth, a man comes to life after being dead three days. That man then ascends to heaven. It's a nice story, but let's not forget that such an occurrence would go against the way the world actually works. We need to employ the reality principle every now and again.

So, having taken a several grains of salt, we hear more from Freke and Gandy:

The conquests of Alexander the Great had turned the Mediterranean world into one culture with a common language. This created an age of eclecticism, much like our own, in which different spiritual traditions met and synthesized. Jewish mystics of this period, such as Philo Judeas, were obsessed with synthesizing Jewish and Pagan mythology. In light of all this, it is actually no surprise that some group of Jewish mystics should synthesize the great mythic hero of the Jews, Joshua the Messiah, with the great mythic hero of the Pagans, Osiris-Dionysus.

At the time, both Pagans and Christians were well aware that the Jesus story was a myth. The early Christians, known as Gnostics, understood the Jesus story as allegory, not history, and even called Jesus by the names of the Pagan Godman. The Gnostics were brutally eradicated by the Roman Church in the 4th and 5th centuries, and since then we have believed the official propaganda that these Christians were dangerous heretics who had gone Pagan.

Actually the evidence suggests the opposite is closer to the truth. The Gnostics were the original Christians, just as they themselves claimed. They had synthesized Jewish and Pagan mythology to produce the Jesus story and many other extraordinary Christian myths largely unknown today. The Roman Church was a later deviation, which misunderstood the Jesus story as history. It was, as the Gnostics said at the time, an imitation Church teaching a superficial Christianity designed for the masses.

The authors clearly make a target of the Roman Catholic Church's brand of Christianity, as well they should. But I part ways with the authors when they obviously sympathize with the Gnostics:

Roman Christianity, and all its subsequent offshoots, is based on the idea that if you believe in the existence of an historical Jesus you will go to heaven when you die. For the Gnostics, however, Jesus is an everyman figure in an initiation allegory. They taught that if you yourself go through the process of initiation symbolized by the Jesus myth, you would die to your old self and resurrect in a new way. The Greek word we translate as resurrect also means awaken.

For the Gnostics, Christianity was about dying -- the idea of giving up your mortal body and awakening to your immortal essence as the Christ within -- the One Consciousness of the Universe. This mystical enlightenment was not something that happened after death, but could happen here and now.

I am intrigued by the different picture of Jesus that the authors paint, clean-shaven and such:

The historical figure of Jesus has been so central to Western culture that it is hard to question his existence. As soon as we hear his name we can see him in our mind's eye, in his flowing white robes, with long hair and a beard. Yet this picture of Jesus was not created until the 8th century. Early portrayals of Jesus show him clean-shaven with short hair and wearing a Roman tunic. St Paul says that long hair disgraces a man, so presumably his image of Jesus was not the same as ours.

In the next passage, the authors err by going all sensationalist on us - "everything you thought you knew is WRONG!!!" If anything makes me think these folks are snake-oil salesman, this is it. However, their points about the paucity of physical evidence for a historical Jesus are legitimate. I wish more Christians would ponder these ideas a bit more.

The fact is that everything we think we know about Jesus, like this romantic picture of the bearded savior, is a creation of the human imagination. Actually there is barely a shred of evidence for the existence of an historical Jesus and this dissolves on closer inspection. Paul, the earliest Christian source, shows no knowledge of an historical man, only a mystical Christ. The gospels have been thoroughly discredited as eyewitness reports. Other bits of traditional evidence, such as references to Jesus by the Jewish historian Josephus, have been shown to be later forgeries. If solid evidence had existed, there would have been no need to have created such fabrications.

The authors try to close out with a statement that basically they are helping people be even more spiritual. They somehow have the secret to help people be happier and more personally in touch with the divine. This is voodoo mystical shit. It's the same old story: there's something better, somewhere, out there, "beyond" this reality. I don't understand why people repulse themselves from reality.

A little over a century ago most people believed the story of Adam and Eve to be history. To most thinking people today its is obviously a myth. We predict that within a generation a similar revolution will have taken place in our understanding of the gospels. People will look back at the beginning of the 21st century and be amazed that a culture with the technology to travel to the moon could see the fabulous story of Jesus as anything other than a myth. However, we do not want to dismiss the Jesus story as nonsense. For us it is truly the greatest story ever told, because it has been thousands of years in the making. It is a perennial tale that has fascinated the human soul since the dawn of time.

Whilst our ideas clearly rewrite history, we do not see ourselves as undermining Christianity. On the contrary we are suggesting that Christianity is in fact richer than we previously imagined. According to the original Gnostic Christians, the Jesus story is a perennial myth with the power to impart the mystical experience of Gnosis, which can transform each one of us into a Christ, not merely a history of events that happened to someone else two thousand years ago.

So, this is interesting stuff unfortunately packaged in sensationalism. Interested readers will be better served by reading the excellent review by Richard Carrier of Earl Doherty's book, The Jesus Puzzle.

Putting the Watchmaker Analogy to Bed

I have been working for some time on an extended refutation of the Watchmaker Analogy. It's the only argument creationists really make. Everything else is window dressing.

However, before I could finish what would have been a masterpiece of flawless logic and argumentation, The Edge posted excepts from Rebecca Newberger Goldstein's forthcoming book, 36 Arguments for the Existence of God: A Work of Fiction.

One of these excerpts treats the Watchmaker Analogy very well, so I will present it here instead of my own piece. However, in case you are a creationist (and therefore lazy and challenged), I will bracket out the specific part that shows the Watchmaker Analogy fails. Here it is, slightly edited to fit context:

The process of replication can give rise to the illusion of design - that is, design without the foresight of an actual designer. Replicators make copies of themselves, which make copies of themselves, and so on, giving rise to an exponential number of descendants. In any finite environment the replicators must compete for the energy and materials necessary for replication. Since no copying process is perfect, errors will eventually crop up, and any error that causes a replicator to reproduce more efficiently than its competitors will result in that line of replicators predominating in the population. After many generations, the dominant replicators will appear to have been designed for effective replication, whereas all they have done is accumulate the copying errors which in the past did lead to effective replication.

This means that we have an alternative to watchmaker-makes-the-parts-of-a-watch. We know that complicated things with a coherent purpose can in fact - in fact - arise without a designer. But I'm summarizing. For the full story, keep reading.

3. The Argument from Design

A. The Classical Teleological Argument

1. Whenever there are things that cohere only because of a purpose or function (for example, all the complicated parts of a watch that allow it to keep time), we know that they had a designer who designed them with the function in mind; they are too improbable to have arisen by random physical processes. (A hurricane blowing through a hardware store could not assemble a watch.)

2. Organs of living things, such as the eye and the heart, cohere only because they have a function (for example, the eye has a cornea, lens, retina, iris, eyelids, and so on, which are found in the same organ only because together they make it possible for the animal to see.)

3. These organs must have a designer who designed them with their function in mind: just as a watch implies a watchmaker, an eye implies an eyemaker (from 1 & 2).
4. These things have not had a human designer.

5. Therefore, these things must have had a non-human designer (from 3 & 4).
6. God is the non-human designer (from 5).

7. God exists.

FLAW: Darwin showed how the process of replication could give rise to the illusion of design without the foresight of an actual designer. Replicators make copies of themselves, which make copies of themselves, and so on, giving rise to an exponential number of descendants. In any finite environment the replicators must compete for the energy and materials necessary for replication. Since no copying process is perfect, errors will eventually crop up, and any error that causes a replicator to reproduce more efficiently than its competitors will result in that line of replicators predominating in the population. After many generations, the dominant replicators will appear to have been designed for effective replication, whereas all they have done is accumulate the copying errors which in the past did lead to effective replication. The fallacy in the argument, then is Premise 1 (and as a consequence, Premise 3, which depends on it): parts of a complex object serving a complex function do not, in fact, require a designer.

In the twenty-first century, creationists have tried to revive the Teleological Argument in three forms:

B. The Argument from Irreducible Complexity

1. Evolution has no foresight, and every incremental step must be an improvement over the preceding one, allowing the organism to survive and reproduce better than its competitors.

2. In many complex organs, the removal or modification of any part would destroy the functional whole. Examples are, the lens and retina of the eye, the molecular components of blood clotting, and the molecular motor powering the cell's flagellum. Call these organs "irreducibly complex."

3. These organs could not have been useful to the organisms that possessed them in any simpler forms (from 2).

4. The Theory of Natural Selection cannot explain these irreducibly complex systems (from 1 & 3).

5. Natural selection is the only way out of the conclusions of the Classical Teleological Argument.

6. God exists (from 4 & 5 and the Classical Teleological Argument).

This argument has been around since the time of Charles Darwin, and his replies to it still hold.

FLAW 1: For many organs, Premise 2 is false. An eye without a lens can still see, just not as well as an eye with a lens.

FLAW 2: For many other organs, removal of a part, or other alterations, may render it useless for its current function, but the organ could have been useful to the organism for some other function. Insect wings, before they were large enough to be effective for flight, were used as heat-exchange panels. This is also true for most of the molecular mechanisms, such as the flagellum motor, invoked in the modern version of the Argument from Irreducible Complexity.

FLAW 3: (The Fallacy of Arguing from Ignorance): There may be biological systems for which we don't yet know how they may have been useful in simpler versions. But there are obviously many things we don't yet understand in molecular biology, and given the huge success that biologists have achieved in explaining so many examples of incremental evolution in other biological systems, it is more reasonable to infer that these gaps will eventually be filled by the day-to-day progress of biology than to invoke a supernatural designer just to explain these temporary puzzles.

COMMENT: This last flaw can be seen as one particular instance of the more general and fallacious Argument from Ignorance:

1.There are things that we cannot explain yet.

2. Those things must be caused by God.

FLAW: Premise 1 is obviously true. If there weren't things that we could not explain yet, then science would be complete, laboratories and observatories would unplug their computers and convert to condominiums, and all departments of science would be converted to departments in the History of Science. Science is only in business because there are things we have not explained yet. So we cannot infer from the existence of genuine, ongoing science that there must be a God.

C. The Argument from the Paucity of Benign Mutations

1. Evolution is powered by random mutations and natural selection.

2. Organisms are complex, improbable systems, and by the laws of probability any change is astronomically more likely to be for the worse than for the better.

3. The majority of mutations would be deadly for the organism (from 2).

4. The amount of time it would take for all the benign mutations needed for the assembly of an organ to appear by chance is preposterously long (from 3).

5. In order for evolution to work, something outside of evolution had to bias the process of mutation, increasing the number of benign ones (from 4).

6. Something outside of the mechanism of biological change — the Prime Mutator — must bias the process of mutations for evolution to work (from 5).

7. The only entity that is both powerful enough and purposeful enough to be the Prime Mutator is God.

8. God exists.

FLAW: Evolution does not require infinitesimally improbable mutations, such as a fully formed eye appearing out of the blue in a single generation, because (a) mutations can have small effects (tissue that is slightly more transparent, or cells that are slightly more sensitive to light), and mutations contributing to these effects can accumulate over time; (b) for any sexually reproducing organism, the necessary mutations do not have to have occurred one after the other in a single line of descendants, but could have appeared independently in thousands of separate organisms, each mutating at random, and the necessary combinations could come together as the organisms mate and exchange genes; (c) life on earth has had a vast amount of time to accumulate the necessary mutations (almost four billion years).

D. The New Argument from The Original Replicator

1. Evolution is the process by which an organism evolves from simpler ancestors.

2. Evolution by itself cannot explain how the original ancestor — the first living thing — came into existence (from 1).

3. The theory of natural selection can deal with this problem only by saying the first living thing evolved out of non-living matter (from 2).

4. That non-living matter (call it the Original Replicator) must be capable of (i) self-replication (ii) generating a functioning mechanism out of surrounding matter to protect itself against falling apart, and (iii) surviving slight mutations to itself that will then result in slightly different replicators.

5. The Original Replicator is complex (from 4).

6. The Original Replicator is too complex to have arisen from purely physical processes (from 5 & the Classical Teleological Argument). For example, DNA, which currently carries the replicated design of organisms, cannot be the Original Replicator, because DNA molecules requires a complex system of proteins to remain stable and to replicate, and could not have arisen from natural processes before complex life existed.

7. Natural selection cannot explain the complexity of the Original Replicator (from 3 & 6).

8. The Original Replicator must have been created rather than have evolved (from 7 and the Classical Teleological Argument).

9. Anything that was created requires a Creator.

10. God exists.

FLAW 1: Premise 6 states that a replicator, because of its complexity, cannot have arisen from natural processes, i.e. by way of natural selection. But the mathematician John von Neumann showed in the 1950s that it is theoretically possible for a simple physical system to make exact copies of itself from surrounding materials. Since then, biologists and chemists have identified a number of naturally occurring molecules and crystals that can replicate in ways that could lead to natural selection (in particular, that allow random variations to be preserved in the copies). Once a molecule replicates, the process of natural selection can kick in, and the replicator can accumulate matter and become more complex, eventually leading to precursors of the replication system used by living organisms today.

FLAW 2: Even without von Neumann's work (which not everyone accepts as conclusive), to conclude the existence of God from our not yet knowing how to explain the Original Replicator is to rely on The Argument from Ignorance.

Believe me, this is just what I was going to say.

Oh, and I've noticed that over at Uncommon Descent, they're already going ape-shit over Goldstein's book and arguments. For example, they insist that Goldstein's Teleological Argument is not the one they make.

Yes, they are actually trying to argue "That's not MY teleological argument you're talking about," kind of like the old chestnut, "That's not MY religion you are talking about."

One commentator cries:

This analysis doesn’t work because the argument is mis-stated. The first premise is not “anything which exists must have a cause”, but “anything which begins to exist must have a cause”, which makes a huge difference in the analysis. Well known theistic philosopher William Lane Craig states the Kalaam Cosmological Argument this way:
Premise 1 – Anything that begins to exist must have a cause
Premise 2 – The universe began to exist
Conclusion: Therefore, the universe must have a cause.

Another commenter posts this:

This is not the classical teleological argument, I’m not even sure that it’s Paley’s argument (which likewise is not to be confused with the classical teleological argument).

The Kalam Cosmological Argument is a joke, a sad attempt to delay the inevitable.

The notion of "begins to exist" is about as fuzzy an idea as we can get. When did I begin to exist? At precisely what moment? It's like Zeno's paradox of Achilles and the tortoise, where one can proceed infinitely to smaller and smaller levels. Think long and hard, but in the end it's people who decide and define when something "begins to exist." The notion is a man-made construct, a logical convention that nature has no obligation to honor.

Then of course there's the problem of God. When did God begin to exist? How do we know whether he did or didn't begin to exist? If the universe had a cause, did that cause have to be supernatural? Could it have been caused by, say, another universe? Could the laws of physics have allowed it to be caused, such as we were told by physicist Lawrence Krauss?

I've mentioned it before. Logic is great stuff except when it doesn't work or when messy reality gets in the way.

Goldstein has solid philosophical credentials (much better than those who criticize her) and is under no obligation to respond every time a creationist wants to try moving argumentative goalposts. In the end, the Kalam Cosmological Argument falls in just the same way as the other variations of the Teleological Argument.

Good night, watch. Good night, watchmaker.

Adolf the Creationist

I'm happy to put to bed the awful lie that creationists love. "Hitler and Darwin, they say. "Darwin led to Hitler. SQUAWK!!"

Ed Brayton shows us how Hitler used creationist ideas and lots o'GAWD to make his assertions.

While we're at it, Brayton also comments on why the "survival of the fittest" line of Social Darwinism is so stupid next to what the theory of evolution actually is and does.

We Are All Connected

I wish I'd watched more Cosmos when I was a kid.



"The beauty of a living thing is not the atoms that go into it. But the way those atoms are put together."

How Everything Came from Nothing, No God Necessary

Reality is better than man-made fairy tales, as physicist Lawrence Krauss explains in this wonderful lecture.

The big point that comes out from this is a devastating answer to the common theistic sneer, "Do you believe that everything came from nothing?" Well, yes, I think the cosmologists are onto something just like this. Here, view this video and pay attention starting especially at 33:00. The laws of physics allow a universe to begin from nothing, no deity needed.



Favorite quote: "The universe is the way the universe is, whether we like it or not."

We Ain't Yer Other!

I stated before that not only do we not need God to be good, but that we also already don't use or need God in our everyday goodness. Practically speaking, I said, we are all atheists.

Of course, this fact drives many theists bat-shit insane. And what do theists do when they cannot face facts? Why, they hope to confuse the issue by resorting to tangents while also fleeing the original issue with giant leaps of logic.

Take the "Jewish Philosopher," for example, who is pretty much the worst example on the Web of both a Jew and a Philosopher. He rants:

According to atheism, there are no consequences to our actions other than the obvious material ones. Therefore if I believe that I am smart enough or lucky enough to get away with crime, I’ll do it.

According to atheism human life has no value. We are merely miniscule bags of chemicals stuck to the surface of an insignificant planet.

According to atheism, we have no personal responsibility for anything which we do. If we murder, this is merely the result of brain chemistry and bad influences, but not any bad choice because free will does not exist.

The quote above is saturated with the worst kind of stupidity, the kind that takes a reasonable premise and then saddles it with all sorts of scary-sounding, insidious implications. When the so-called philosopher says, for example, "According to atheism, there are no consequences to our actions other than the obvious material ones," he makes what I would consider a basically true statement - if it means that there is no divine retribution for human actions. But then he screws up the logic by going straight from the premise to a silly conclusion: "Therefore if I believe that I am smart enough or lucky enough to get away with crime, I’ll do it."

Uh, wait. The so-called philosopher ignores that there are indeed consequences to crime other than divine retribution. Remember all those "obvious material" consequences he mentioned so vaguely just before? Well, they include jail, fining, feeling guilty, hurting someone else's feelings, family shame, and so on - none of which requires a god.

On the other hand, many people commit crime (or crime's avatars, intolerence and chauvinism) because of holy inspiration. They shoot people in a place of worship or fly planes into buildings, or embezzle, or commit espionage in the name of their god - all this because they believe they will receive a divine reward in the afterlife!

We don't have to parse the entire rant of stupidity that is the (ahem) jewish philosopher's comment to realize that like many theists who have a stick in their ass about atheism, he doesn't really know or understand atheism at all.

Every time such people try to insist about what atheists believe and what atheism entails, they err in a serious way by adopting non-sequiturs and conclusions that don't follow from premises.

Let's look at some more of the Jewish Philosopher's wisdom:

If we do find atheists living peaceful, honest, sober lives (which as far as I know is actually rare) this is the result of the influence of parents and grandparents who were not atheists. It is in spite of their atheism.

Atheists may claim that they are good because invariably crime does not pay in the long run (which is not necessarily true – look at Stalin and Mao who died peacefully in bed) or because humans are instinctively good (which is nonsense – read a history book or a newspaper).

Here we have a reverse "No True Scotsman" fallacy, in that the claim is that a good atheist is not a real atheist. What we see here is the Jewish Philosopher trying to retain an unreasoned assumption. Then he resorts to a ridiculous straw man argument in "invariably crime does not pay in the long run." Notice how the oh-so-honest Jewish Philosopher has sought to dilute the stronger argument given by P.Z. Myers:

There is morality in my 'worldview'; don't confuse the fact that I state baldly that there is no external non-human intelligent agent that imposes morality on me with an absence of moral thought. I derive my sense of what is right and wrong from intrinsic properties such as empathy and other social impulses, and from acculturation in a stable, successful society that has expectations of parents to introduce their children to what constitutes reasonable behavior. I also derive it rationally from what I can see as a robust strategy for long term security and happiness within my culture — that is, robbing banks has a very poor long term return on the effort.

Myers gives an argument that is personal and situational. It's a strong argument because it is concrete and specific. The Jewish Philosopher attempts to abstract the argument into a vague sound-bite.

Why do theists like the Jewish Philosopher do this? My hypothesis is that they see atheism as a kind of anti-religion, an Other to use as a receptacle for all the bad things that would otherwise undermine their sense of how great their religion is. That is, they are never far from the thought that none of their core superstitions are actually true, so they intellectually build an Other to serve as the scene for this thinking.

Because they see atheism as an Other, these anti-atheists can rarely understand it in anything but negative and hostile terms. They take a fundamental position toward atheism that is is narcissistic. The believe that it's all about their little religion (cue Bill Donohue) when really their specific combination of fairy tales, lies, and restraints matter very little.

Children and Fatherhood

I should write more often about how much I enjoy my children and how much I love being a father. It really is a fantastic thing to live with the kids and to be part of their growing up (with their mother, my wife, of course!!). But even more, I like that we're connected and I like our connection. Ugh, I'm failing with the words. Maybe that's why I hardly write about the kids - they are so wonderful that I cannot express it coherently.

Hannah is so very smart and sweet. She's also pretty and full of life. I hardly worry about her because I know that she'll succeed in whatever she chooses to do. I think we really get each other.

Emily is such a cutie, and I can tell that she's quite intelligent. She and I share a tendency to be quiet and to be homebodies. I can't wait to see her in school, but another part of me thinks she's perfect as-is and doesn't want her to grow up.

C.J. is a happy, bouncy, boisterous little guy. He's all boy, as the mothers on our street like to say. Gosh is he loud and energetic. He's really a physical kid and very independent. But he has the face of an angel. I'm not quite sure what our relationship will be like. He's so attached to his mother - and I don't blame him - but I wonder sometimes if he sees me as a rival in the house, as if he's already pushing to be the alpha male!

The kids make me laugh - a lot. Although I very much like living in the present, I get volumes of joy from a vague vision of the future, in which my three grown children are all around visitng and laughing with me. Much as my wife has shown me what happiness is, the children have taught me about joy.

Morality: No God Necessary

Anti-atheist folk love to suggest that atheists have no basis for morality. It's a tired, malicious and incorrect argument that claims: If you don't believe in God then you have no objective standard for morality. You make morality a mere matter of opinion or preference. If you want to kill someone because you consider her or him your inferior, there is no moral standard that would lead you to the conclusion that you should not kill.

The anti-atheist argument on morality usually gets formulated as I have expressed above, with little deviation. For example, we get this from Dennis Prager:

Though most college-educated Westerners never hear the case for the need for God-based morality because of the secular outlook that pervades modern education and the media, the case is both clear and compelling: If there is no transcendent source of morality (morality is the word I use for the standard of good and evil), "good" and "evil" are subjective opinions, not objective realities.

In other words, if there is no God who says, "Do not murder" ("Do not kill" is a mistranslation of the Hebrew which, like English, has two words for homicide), murder is not wrong. Many people may think it is wrong, but that is their opinion, not objective moral fact. There are no moral "facts" if there is no God; there are only moral opinions.

And someone at Uncommon Descent recently produced this gem:

[H]ere’s a simple thought experiment for any of the materialists (or philosophical naturalists, or atheists) among our number here at Uncommon Descent. Perhaps this simple thought experiment can bring some clarity to moral questions from a materialist persepctive.

Here goes: You’re in a large city and walk up to a a busy street corner. Heavy traffic is whizzing by in both directions on the street you need to cross. As you prepare to cross, you notice next to you a smallish, frail, elderly woman, carrying some shopping bags, who also needs to cross the street, but is quite obviously nervous and frightened of the attempt. You now have 3 options: 1) you can ignore her completely and just go about your business; 2)you can push her into the traffic; 3) you can assist her to get safely across the street. The moral question is, what is the right thing to do and why is it the right thing to do (that is to say, how can we know that is the right thing to do)?

If you read the comments in the thread from which this quote comes, you'll see that the main thing the person wants to know is "how we can know" what is "in fact the right thing to do."

A few elements stand out to me in this reasoning.
(1) The 'how can we know' part is rather pathetic, as if we need to have worked out our philosophies of right and wrong behavior before we can make any decisions at all. Yet we very often act upon decisions without knowing whether they are right or fully right. Indeed, too often several options have varying degrees of rightness. The 'how can we know' meme is a dodge, an unnecessary rabbit trail that could be pushed out endlessly - well, how can we know that we know?

(2) It is baldly ridiculous to imply that a written law, whether it be a holy book or national legal code, imparts knowledge of what the right thing to do is. Statutes tells us what to do or not to do. They indicate moral thinking, but they don't define or contain it. Just imagine for a moment what the world would be like if Iranian law were equivalent to morality, or Russian law, or Mormon law. But in the end, we cannot know what is the right thing to do from a holy book or from a sense of having a divine judge watching over our thoughts and deeds. To know implies a level of certainty that we rarely can achieve when it comes to morality.

(3) It's even more ridiculous to posit that virtually any moral choice one might make in a given situation is "in fact" the right thing to do. What's a fact is that people can always devise choices. Moral decisions are about reasoning and strategy, not illusory facts.

Theists have a hard time grasping that appealing to God is not the same as appealing to an objective standard of morality. The appeal is always subjective. The timeless, unchanging morality of God depends on whether one is a Jew, a Muslim, a Christian or a whatever. It depends on when in history you live. It depends on your personal sense of values, perhaps shared with the larger culture in which you live. It hardly takes any thought at all to realize that as a practical matter, objective morality is meaningless. It's purely a rhetorical term.

Atheist hero P.Z. Myers has a thoughtful, devastating response to the charge that we cannot be good without God. He says:

There is morality in my 'worldview'; don't confuse the fact that I state baldly that there is no external non-human intelligent agent that imposes morality on me with an absence of moral thought. I derive my sense of what is right and wrong from intrinsic properties such as empathy and other social impulses, and from acculturation in a stable, successful society that has expectations of parents to introduce their children to what constitutes reasonable behavior. I also derive it rationally from what I can see as a robust strategy for long term security and happiness within my culture — that is, robbing banks has a very poor long term return on the effort.

So, I do believe in right and wrong. It's just not handed down from a magical sky-lawyer.

Myers says so succinctly and eloquently what I am trying to offer as my main point: Theistic belief in right and wrong is no better than atheist belief in right and wrong. Furthermore, I am skeptical that idea of God itself plays any role in the everyday goodness most people show. Not only do we not need God to be good, but we also already don't use God in our quotidian moral reasoning and judgments.

Practically speaking, we are all atheists.

Bob Dylan: Last Man Standing

As part of my project to create a "greatest hits" CD for my fortieth birthday, I listened to a few of my CDs by Bob Dylan. The most recent one I have is Time Out of Mind. I don't know that I'd call this a great CD, but it has some truly great songs. And Dylan continues even now to produce excellent material.

The Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and Bob Dylan were the great musical forces of my adolescence and early adulthood. They were huge influences and joys in my life. But I rarely listen to the Beatles now, and I don't respond to their songs anymore the way I used to. I still like vintage Stones, but they too are a relic in that they no longer produce new music that excites me.

Dylan, however, remains a "living" artist to me. He still has lessons to tell and stories to teach. Even his old stuff yields rewards. An under-appreciated gem like "Bob Dylan's Dream," from 1963's The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, retains a rawness that continues to speak to me. So Dylan is the last man standing, the one artist of my youth who still has relevance.

My first Dylan record was Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits. I had high expectations because in my reading everyone seemed to talk so admirably of him. Most of my books were about the Beatles, and they clearly saw Dylan as a great songwriter and a dominant intellect. So when I put on the record and heard the first track, "Rainy Day Women #12 and 35," I thought it was a joke. That voice of Dylan's: was that his real voice? That raw, acoustic sound which was so ragged and poor compared to the studio polish of the Beatles: was this the stuff that drew everyone's admiration?

I went through the other cuts that first time, from "Blowin' in the Wind" to "Like a Rolling Stone." I don't think I liked it all very much, but I didn't dislike it. Some of the songs had neat hooks, like "Just Like a Woman" and "It Ain't Me, Babe." So I continued to listen and to be intrigued by that voice, that unpretty voice. That ever-biting, surprisingly malleable, and ultimately perfect voice.

At 16, I was an unabashed Dylan fan when no one else in my peer group was. I took some grief for this but I didn't care. I knew Dylan was saying things that were better than Rush, R.E.M, Van Halen, and even U2. Here, for example, is the opening to the Prufrock-ian "Ballad of a Thin Man":

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home.

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Dylan could be positively Shakespearean in his wordplay, as in "Highway 61 Revisited":

Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night
Told the first father that things weren't right
My complexion she said is much too white
He said come here and step into the light he says hmm you're right
Let me tell the second mother this has been done
But the second mother was with the seventh son
And they were both out on Highway 61.

Like no one else, Dylan put conversation and drama in songs. In "The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest," the dialogue stacks questions and misunderstandings and establishes a vision of the mythic American west as a place of desolation and self-inflicted violence:

Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest,
They were the best of friends.
So when Frankie Lee needed money one day,
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain,
Sayin', "Take your pick, Frankie Boy,
My loss will be your gain."

Well, Frankie Lee, he sat right down
And put his fingers to his chin,
But with the cold eyes of Judas on him,
His head began to spin.
"Would ya please not stare at me like that," he said,
"It's just my foolish pride,
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to hide."

Well, Judas, he just winked and said,
"All right, I'll leave you here,
But you'd better hurry up and choose
Which of those bills you want,
Before they all disappear."
"I'm gonna start my pickin' right now,
Just tell me where you'll be."

Judas pointed down the road
And said, "Eternity!"
"Eternity?" said Frankie Lee,
With a voice as cold as ice.
"That's right," said Judas Priest, "Eternity,
Though you might call it 'Paradise.'"

"I don't call it anything,"
Said Frankie Lee with a smile.
"All right," said Judas Priest,
"I'll see you after a while."

Well, Frankie Lee, he sat back down,
Feelin' low and mean,
When just then a passing stranger
Burst upon the scene,
Saying, "Are you Frankie Lee, the gambler,
Whose father is deceased?
Well, if you are,
There's a fellow callin' you down the road
And they say his name is Priest."

"Oh, yes, he is my friend,"
Said Frankie Lee in fright,
"I do recall him very well,
In fact, he just left my sight."
"Yes, that's the one," said the stranger,
As quiet as a mouse,
"Well, my message is, he's down the road,
Stranded in a house."

Well, Frankie Lee, he panicked,
He dropped ev'rything and ran
Until he came up to the spot
Where Judas Priest did stand.
"What kind of house is this," he said,
"Where I have come to roam?"
"It's not a house," said Judas Priest,
"It's not a house . . . it's a home."

Well, Frankie Lee, he trembled,
He soon lost all control
Over ev'rything which he had made
While the mission bells did toll.
He just stood there staring
At that big house as bright as any sun,
With four and twenty windows
And a woman's face in ev'ry one.

Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful, bounding leap,
And, foaming at the mouth,
He began to make his midnight creep.
For sixteen nights and days he raved,
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest,
Which is where he died of thirst.

No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
"Nothing is revealed."

Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.

Dylan would revisit this spare (if not bleak) vision again, notably in "The Man with the Long Black Coat" from the Oh Mercy album--except perhaps by now he'd lost some optimism:

Preacher was a talkin' there's a sermon he gave,
He said every man's conscience is vile and depraved,
You cannot depend on it to be your guide
When it's you who must keep it satisfied.
It ain't easy to swallow, it sticks in the throat,
She gave her heart to the man
In the long black coat.

There are no mistakes in life some people say
It is true sometimes you can see it that way.
But people don't live or die, people just float.
She went with the man
In the long black coat.

Dylan is a modern Jeremiah. He sees how out of joint the world is and tells all of us about it. He senses the strangeness of his position as an icon. Everyone praises the prophet's words instead of heeding them. Today's Dylan just sings and doesn't take his "star" status seriously. All he can do is work his work, as he muses in "Tryin' to Get to Heaven," with its allusion to "Midnight Rambler" by the Rolling Stones:

Gonna sleep down in the parlor
And relive my dreams
I'll close my eyes and I wonder
If everything is as hollow as it seems
Some trains don't pull no gamblers
No midnight ramblers, like they did before
I been to Sugar Town, I shook the sugar down
Now I'm trying to get to heaven before they close the door.

Dylan is that performer who will go until he dies. He's a rail rider with a guitar on his back and a harmonica in his pocket. He's a scop, a troubadour, a vaudevillian. And Dylan is the most important songwriter of them all. One can get older with his songs and within their world of outlaws, strangers, and jilted lovers.

Perhaps Dylan's "suffering servant" posture ultimately wins out over the unapologetic, unrepentant rebelliousness of the Stones. If one lives, one becomes put upon and beaten back. The observing voice in Dylan is undefeated and undaunted, yet unpretentious. That voice does not refuse to warn of the storms approaching in the distance, even if no one heeds the warning.

40 Songs for My Fortieth

I've had on my mind making a special CD of music to commemorate my turning 40, which happens in January. Here's a first pass at songs that I think should be included, organized by 'my' decades, that is, what I was listening to or what was important to me.

1970s

• "You've Made Me So Very Happy" or "And When I Die," by Blood, Sweat & Tears
• "Both Sides, Now" by Judy Collins
• "You Are the Woman that I've Always Dreamed Of," by Firefox
• "Afternoon Delight," by Starland Vocal Band
• "Classical Gas," by Mason Williams
  

1980s

• "Mean Street," by Van Halen
• "Night Train" by Guns 'n' Roses
• "One Tree Hill" by U2
• "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles
• "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again" by Bob Dylan
• "Astral Weeks (Born Again)," by Van Morrison
• "I'll remember April," by Errol Garner
  

1990s

• "India," by John Coltrane
• "Bitch" or "Can't You Hear Me Knockin'" or "Sway" or "Casino Boogie" by the Rolling Stones
• "East of the Sun," by Tony Bennett
• "You Make Me Feel So Young," by Frank Sinatra
• "Mannelig," by Ale Moller and Lena Willemark
• "Wonder Why We Ever Go Home," by Jimmy Buffett
  

2000s

• "'Long as You're Living Yours," by Keith Jarrett
• "Sunshine Song," by Keith Jarrett
• "Have I Told You Lately," by Rod Stewart (for Becky)
  
• "Father and Daughter" by Paul Simon (for Hannah)
• "Nancy (with the laughing face)," by Tony Bennett or Frank Sinatra (for Emily)
• "Polska of Despair," by Bobo Stenson
• "The Goldhearted Miner," by Esbjorn Svensson Trio
• "Acherei Mot," by Masada
• Some Vignette by Marilyn Crispell
• "In Wind, in Light" by Anders Jormin
• "We Shall Overcome," by Bruce Springstein
  

Laughing Away

I spent some time yesterday laughing as thoroughly as I ever have (so far as I remember, with the possible exception of one time in college). I was scanning through a bunch of mock "motivational posters" and then some really great fantasy foods, such as the Turbaconucken (a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey, all wrapped in bacon).

I was later driving home in a capital mood. It occurred to me that for many years I had been thinking about matters of happiness and morality. At different times I pledged to be better and to do better. I resolved to do more and to do better.

Yesterday I thought I could collapse all of that together into a ball, to allude a bit to Marvell, just by laughing. I love to laugh. Who doesn't? I'm good at laughing. Who isn't?

The upshot of it all is that I realized that laughter is both the sign and the practice of my aspirations. Pretty cool.

I wondered about possibly pursuing the laughter as a dissertation topic. There's been stuff done recently, but I think where I want to come in is from a perspective that also addresses the biology/evolutionary aspects of laughter, the cultural uses of laughter throughout Anglo-Saxon England and Medieval Scandinavia/Europe, and the forward-funniness of Anglo-Saxon England (i.e., the way we today look back in amusement at 'them').

I need to think more about this because I would be using rather standard material. The texts and the linguistic data is pretty well established. The only new thing I can offer is context, so it needs to be full and clear eanough to make obvious avenues of research.

To Theists, To Reject Idolatry

The core question is whether God exists. Atheists think the answer is no. We have pretty good evidence that tells us God is very improbable, if not impossible. This evidence comes from many fields, from biology and cosmology to archaeology and paleography. God is also totally irrelevant to morality. There's no law and no prohibition that requires - requires, I say - the authority of a God.

The God idea offers so little. Yes, it makes some people feel like they have a personal connection with the universe. Yes, it helps some people think through their moral choices and their standards. But it's not true. God is a tool, and that's all. God should not be made into a mental idol.

Atheists totally reject idolatry. In this regard and many others we are the better Jews.

So many Jews become agnostic and atheist. So many intermarry. Why is this? Because they learn to be independent thinkers and to ask questions, such as where the Torah and its commentaries come from. When one looks, it becomes pretty clear (1) that the Bible is man made, and (2) that God is utterly unnecessary.

I'm OK with this. So what that the Torah isn't divine? So what that God doesn't exist? So what that Moses never led 3 million slaves through the sea? So what that there's no messiah? So what that there's no afterlife?

It doesn't matter. It really changes nothing. It makes us no different than before. It has no bearing on the past or the future.

Outside of ancient books and commentary, what is the evidence for theism? Where is it? Isn't there even one single fact of physical reality that would independently verify a claim for existence of god, the devil, heaven, giants, ghosts, golems and so on? Where's the frackin' evidence? Or do people just want to decide such matters based on personal feelings of awe when looking at a sunrise?

Proponents of intelligent design always carp that evolutionists and materialists rule out the possibility of divine intervention from the beginning. But what exactly is the reason we should ever rule it in? They seemingly assume that a supernatural explanation is legitimate prima facie. But I disagree, and I think most atheists do too. This is why the burden of proof is on the theist. They are saying there's a dragon in the garage. That's fine, but don't force others to accept the statement as true unless you have the means to support it independently.

How Life Goes

So the trophy wife has been having headaches recently. Bad ones. At first, we thought it was period-related. But these headaches seem to be happening every day, all day, for three weeks now. Not good. The medicine she's been prescribed does not seem to have much effect.

In two days she goes for a CAT scan (is this how it's represented?), and then by Monday we should get a sense of the results. I have no idea what to expect. Both the wife and I are generally optimistic and calm. We are of course aware of some of the scary possibilities, but we just think they are unlikely. What I mean is that we have no basis for assessing whether - based on probabilities - we should fear the worst or not. Therefore, we choose not to worry.

But then I'm writing this, aren't I? I'm trying to wrap my mind around what I need to do if bad news hits. I need to be able to respond correctly and do what I can to establish a positive and stable environment, or at least not make things worse by undue emotion.

Only a few things will happen. The result will come back negative/clean, which means that the problem is not within the brain but is perhaps related to some infection or other external agent. Or the result could come back positive, meaning that there's something in the brain that shouldn't be, maybe a chemical imbalance or an inflamed blood vessel or a tumor. In any of these scenarios, there would be additional levels of specificity we'd need to reach. I guess I rule out the bad, bad scenario because there have been no seizures or other events to suggest that some pressure on the brain was coming from within.

A third possible result is that the scan is inconclusive. The doctors cannot tell what they see or if they see anything. This of course would be very distressing. I'm not sure how we'd proceed in this case, other than in anger.

So, we wait and we worry and we reason and plan and try to deal as best we can with reality. God has nothing to do with this. We don't need prayers, good thoughts, or crossed fingers. What we need is information, positivity, and support.

UPDATE: "It's not a tumor!" The wife called to say that the scan looks pretty good. The doctors think it may be Lyme disease. It's no picnic, but I think it's treatable.

Some People Just Don't Get It (Or, Poe Bill Donohue)

Catholic League blowhard Bill Donohue has a new book out with the awful title Secular Sabotage: How Liberals Are Destroying Religion and Culture in America. The title says it all, actually: secular means liberal (and vice versa), and the bad secularists/liberals are ruining (his) America.

Sorry, Bill, but there are many religions in America, and they are doing a fine job of ruining themselves. For the Catholic Church, I would think the whole kiddie-fucking and covering-up things would be contributing factors in their demise.

Oh, and spare us the jeremiads about modern culture going down the tubes. Seriously, is this theme - "In my day..."; "Things ain't what they used to be..."; "Today, anything goes..." - ever not played out in a society? Yeah, yeah. The American culture that spawned you was so wonderful and pure and christian. You didn't have any atheists or black people and everyone wept to baby jebus for their sins and absolutely everyone in the nation was humble and selfless and gawd-fearin'.

But Donohue's press release for the book is gold. In the release he gives the blurbs meant to praise the book. You know, these are quotes from notable people letting potential readers know that the book is important, timely, or saying what needs to be said. The blurbs are supposed to stir up positive interest toward book sales.

The only problem with Donohue's release is that one blurb shows Donohue's ridiculousnees. This blurb comes from Stephen Colbert, host of Comedy Central's fake news-analysis program, the Colbert Report.

Here's the full release from the Catholic League website:

Catholic League president Bill Donohue’s new book, Secular Sabotage: How Liberals Are Destroying Religion and Culture in America, is now in bookstores. Additionally, it can be ordered online at several book outlets. For $20, including shipping and handling, it can be ordered from the Catholic League: go to http://www.catholicleague.org/ for information.

Here is what some are saying about the book:

• “In these dispatches from the culture war, the indefatigable president of the Catholic League fires on all cylinders. With passionate prose he re-creates many of his hard-won religious battles and offers an urgent warning about what lies ahead.” – Raymond Arroyo, bestselling author of Mother Angelica, host of EWTN’s “The World Over Live”
• “In this bracing, brutal exposé of the anti-God movement, Donohue delivers a common sense smackdown that is both informative and entertaining.” – Laura Ingraham, nationally syndicated radio talk show host and bestselling author
• “Like the man himself, the book is feisty, controversial, impassioned, and important.” – Michael Medved, nationally syndicated talk show host
• “Bill Donohue is right on target. Every Christian needs to read his book.” – Donald E. Wildmon, founder and chairman, American Family Association
• “SECULAR SABOTAGE is an absolute must-read for anyone who believes the Judeo-Christian ethos is the very heart and soul of civilized society.” – L. Brent Bozell III, president, Media Research Center
• “Wake up, America! The secular minority has cut the brake cables on America’s In-God-We-Trust-Mobile™! Not even all 43 of our Christian presidents can save us now.” – Stephen Colbert, host of “The Colbert Report”

Even a quick scan of the blurbs shows that Colbert's quote is different and probably parodic. The fact that it's the last blurb makes the contrast particularly sharp.

Colbert's quote is itself quite brilliant, from the dubious phrase "secular minority" to the trademark to the exclusion of president #44 to the prognostication of doom. It's dead-on parody. Donohue's been Poe-ed

I wonder when/if Donohue or his publisher will realize that the blurb actually pokes fun at the Catholic League's stance. But maybe Donohue already knows that the quote isn't genuine - perhaps he's poking fun at himself. Hmm. I tend not to think of Donohue as the self-deprecating type, if this video is any indication:



Maybe Bill thinks his readers won't catch the rhetoric of the Colbert quote or won't get that Colbert hosts a news show based in satire.

Rant of a Douche

Like a fool, I continue to visit Uncommon Descent. The truth is that I hope to find something that may be useful in my dissertation studies. I have found a few things, but generally the site is home to fairly bright people who crow stupidly.

Case in point: Gil Dodgen, a whiny baby who packed up his toys and stomped away from UD before. He's back, I guess, and here's his latest ridiculousness, "The Sad Case of the Darwinian Fundamentalist":

In the 20th century, a powerful confluence of evidence emerged that essentially eviscerated the creative power of Darwinian mechanisms. This is not hard to figure out.

The most “simple” cell is a marvel of functionally integrated information-processing technology. Those who propose that the Darwinian mechanisms of random errors filtered by natural selection explain all of life are living in an era gone by, a time when it was thought that the foundation of life was chemistry, physics, time, and chance.

The fossil record is a grand and ever-persistent testimony that Darwin was wrong about gradualism. Simple logic, trivial combinatoric mathematical analysis, and the monstrous problems presented by the likelihood of functional, naturally-selectable intermediates, present overwhelming evidence that Darwinian mechanisms are on their deathbed in terms of their explanatory power for anything but the utterly trivial.

In a sense I feel sorry for Darwinian fundamentalists. It must be depressing to realize that one has wasted his life defending a transparently ephemeral goal that has little to do with reality, nothing to do with real scientific investigation, and that has nothing whatsoever to recommend itself besides philosophical nihilism.

*Shakes head*

OK, let's take this bit by bit.

In the 20th century, a powerful confluence of evidence emerged that essentially eviscerated the creative power of Darwinian mechanisms. This is not hard to figure out.

Translation: We are now almost 10 years away from the century that supposedly proved evolution is wrong, so why isn't evolution dead yet? One can already sense Dodgen's bewilderment turning into a temper tantrum.

The most “simple” cell is a marvel of functionally integrated information-processing technology. Those who propose that the Darwinian mechanisms of random errors filtered by natural selection explain all of life are living in an era gone by, a time when it was thought that the foundation of life was chemistry, physics, time, and chance.

If Dodgen is looking to support his position, he's doing a crappy job of it. Sentence #1 is an argument from personal awe and incredulity. His cherished machine metaphor ("functionally integrated information-processing technology") is ultimately unhelpful because it already invokes the watchmaker analogy. In other words, the metaphor stacks the deck in favor of the machine being made by a sentient engineer.

Of course, it's not established that such an engineer made anything. In other words, the very thing under investigation is how the cell came to be what it is today. Dodgen is clearly skeptical about the ability of cells to have evolved. So what's the alternative theory? That they were designed in god's shop and then launched fully-formed on earth? OK. Is there any tangible evidence to suggest that the design hypothesis itself is anything other than gratuitous? What is it? How strong is it as evidence? Does Dodgen have anything more than "I don't like your theory"?

Only two paragraphs in and we're already at the grand stupidity of Dodgen's post: he's completely vague about what - if not everything - in the evolutionary model he takes issue with, and he provides zero argument for how another model better explains the existence and functionality of "simple" cells.

The fossil record is a grand and ever-persistent testimony that Darwin was wrong about gradualism. Simple logic, trivial combinatoric mathematical analysis, and the monstrous problems presented by the likelihood of functional, naturally-selectable intermediates, present overwhelming evidence that Darwinian mechanisms are on their deathbed in terms of their explanatory power for anything but the utterly trivial.

Same problem here. Wrong about what in gradualism, exactly? Is all of gradualism incorrect? How so? If Dodgen has any actual data to back up his topic sentence, he chooses not to divulge them. Instead he goes to a non-sequitur that again argues from personal incredulity. Ho-hum.

In a sense I feel sorry for Darwinian fundamentalists. It must be depressing to realize that one has wasted his life defending a transparently ephemeral goal that has little to do with reality, nothing to do with real scientific investigation, and that has nothing whatsoever to recommend itself besides philosophical nihilism.

OK, here's where Dodgen gets to say what's really on his mind. The stuff before was right out of the ID "science" playbook and he doesn't care about all that anyway. What he really cares about is (1) prognosticating the imminent demise of (the obligatory strawman) "Darwinism" and (2) visualizing mean atheists consigned to the hell-like margins of science and society.

That's what he wants, to fantasize about atheists writhing in a hell on earth. How (christian) loving of him. If we listen hard, we can still hear the echo of his Dr. Evil laugh as he typed up the final paragraph. Maybe he had his eyes closed in a psycho-sexual reverie as he dreamed of Richard Dawkins and PZ Myers weeping together that all their work and teaching had been in vain. "Why didn't we see it, chap?" Dawkins asks. "Why weren't we as clever as that Gil Dodgen fellow to see that our work was not based in reality, was not scientific, and was not as philosophically hopeful as a jewish guy/god sending unbelievers to eternal damnation?"

I swear these UD/ID people make perfect mockeries of themselves.

Cornelius on Rye

Cornelius G. Hunter is a remarkably pretentious blogger over at Uncommon Descent. He drinks from the Discovery Institute troth, and makes his schtick the exposure of the "religion" of evolution.

A few examples of how this guy operates. Here is a recent post called "Robert Wright and the New Pragmatism":

In recent years evolutionists have been trying to pin down the theological implications of evolution. If evolution is true--and of course evolutionists believe it is true--then what does this tell us about god? From blogs to books to conferences at the Vatican, the "fact" of evolution is being integrated with our theology. The latest example of this science-informs-religion movement is Robert Wright's op-ed piece in today's New York Times which resurrects Charles Peirce's pragmatism. It is yet another example of evolution's abuse of science.

evolutionary psychologists have developed a plausible account of the moral sense. They say it is in large part natural selection's way of equipping people to play non-zero-sum games - games that can be win-win if the players cooperate or lose-lose if they don't.

So, for example, feelings of guilt over betraying a friend are with us because during evolution sustaining friendships brought benefits through the non-zero-sum logic of one hand washing the other ("reciprocal altruism"). Friendless people tend not to thrive.

Indeed, this dynamic of reciprocal altruism, as mediated by natural selection, seems to have inclined us toward belief in some fairly abstract principles, notably the idea that good deeds should be rewarded and bad deeds should be punished. ...

If evolution does tend to eventually "converge" on certain moral intuitions, does that mean there were moral rules "out there" from the beginning, before humans became aware of them - that natural selection didn't "invent" human moral intuitions so much as "discover" them? That would be good news for any believers who want to preserve as much of the spirit of C. S. Lewis as Darwinism permits.

Something like this has been suggested by the evolutionary psychologist Steven Pinker - who, as a contented atheist, can't be accused of special pleading.

Mr. Pinker has noted how the interplay of evolved intuition and the dynamics of discourse tends to forge agreement on something like the golden rule - that you should treat people as you expect to be treated. He compares this natural apprehension of a moral principle to the depth perception humans have thanks to the evolution of stereo vision. Not all species (not even all two-eyed species) have stereo vision, Mr. Pinker says, but any species that has it is picking up on "real facts about the universe" that were true even before that species evolved - namely, the three-dimensional nature of reality and laws of optics.

Similarly, certain intuitions about reciprocal moral obligation are picking up on real facts about the logic of discourse and about generic social dynamics - on principles that were true even before humans came along and illustrated them. Including, in particular, the non-zero-sum dynamics that are part of our universe

The mistake here is at the beginning. Evolutionists have not discovered how the moral sense evolved any more than they have discovered how the brain arose on its own. Indeed, the theory of evolution has become increasingly bizarre in its attempt to reckon with behavior. The lesson here is that it behooves us to be suspicious when "science" just happens to produce theological truths we want to hear, regardless of how bad is the science.

This post gives a pretty good idea of how deranged poor Hunter is. He starts off with his villain, the evolutionists, and how they have been trying - yes, trying but not succeeding - to get the theological implications of evolution.

Immediately we see that Hunter is full of shit because he willy-nilly constructs a strawman - just pulls it out from the same place he gets his magic sky daddy and weepy baby-god. He conjures the shadowy cabal of the evolutionists, then he invokes the image of the secret meetings in smoke-filled backrooms where the evolutionist-in-chief pounds on a table and bellows, "Gentlemen, if we don't figure out the theological implications of evolution soon, all our plans will be ruined. Ruined, I say!" And of course, Hunter makes the "no true scotsman" pitch with his line about evolution abusing science. OK, Hunter, rest easy now. Shh. Yes, real scientists would never find any historical or scientific merit in the theory of evolution. Hush little baby....

Hunter loves to boldface quotes - I guess this allows him to wring his hands as he tells his friends "I'm using their own words against them. Heh, heh, heh." But then he misinterprets the quotes. For example, look above when he crows, "The mistake here is at the beginning. Evolutionists have not discovered how the moral sense evolved any more than they have discovered how the brain arose on its own."

No, there is no mistake at the beginning because in neither the highlighted nor non-highlighted parts does it say or imply the discovery of how the moral sense evolved. When someone interpreting the science for a lay audience says "evolutionary psychologists have developed a plausible account of the moral sense," this is a good way of saying, "they have some confidence that they are on the right track and think that they should continue on."

Notice also that after using the it's-supposed-to-be-controversial term "theological," the idea of theology never surfaces again in any direct or obvious way. Hunter's a bait-and-switch guy, in other words. He starts off with his "now they're into theology" mock-outrage and just blusters himself out at the end of the post with a whiny, "They think they are SO great. Nyah!"

Hunter's real problem is that he sees (people he disparagingly calls) "evolutionists" as too proud or too confident. He says they disingenuously present evolution as if it were a fact. But this supposed pride and overconfidence are all in Hunter's head. In "The Water Strider: Evolution's Gratuitous Explanations" Hunter says:

New research is telling us more about how water striders, those bugs that walk on water, get such long legs. As usual the story is more complicated than evolution would have it. A regulatory gene that helps in the development of the water strider has opposite effects in different limbs, lengthening some and shortening others.

Incredibly, evolutionists were quick to add their gratuitous, scientifically meaningless, interpretation of the findings. As one evolutionist put it:

Many have marveled at the ability of water striders to walk on water, and we are excited to have discovered the gene that has affected this evolutionary change.

How cogent. This would be like entering an automobile manufacturing plant, finding the robot that installs the doors, and claiming to have discovered how the doors evolved.

Hunter thinks he's got a "gotcha" every time he quotes and boldfaces text. He's single-handedly talking down those haughty, dogmatic evolutionists one peg at a time. Of course - no surprise - although Hunter posts regularly, he does not allow comments on his blog. When UD carries his posts, comments are allowed. Over at UD, I myself responded to the water striders article by pointing out his mis-reading:

Sorry, but I don’t get your point. You quote and boldface for emphasis:

Many have marveled at the ability of water striders to walk on water, and we are excited to have discovered the gene that has affected this evolutionary change.

How cogent. This would be like entering an automobile manufacturing plant, finding the robot that installs the doors, and claiming to have discovered how the doors evolved.

To continue with your analogy, I am not sure I read anyone “claiming to have discovered how the doors evolved.” Rather, I read the excitement at discovering the robot (i.e., the gene) that has affected the change.

I can see that we want to know more about this gene and what “robot” installed it. Very interesting and important stuff.

Or have I missed the point completely?

Here is how Hunter responded:

Larry (1):

Sorry, but I don’t get your point.

Perhaps this is an example of what philosophers call incommensurability. Is it conceivable that this gene that causes (or helps to cause) the formation of the limbs is not the blind cause of the original appearance of the limbs, as the evolutionist so claims?

In other words, is it possible that the evolutionary account (which roughly is that there was this bug a long time ago which suffered some mutations which happened to result in a regulatory protein modifying the limb lengths just right so the bug could start to walk on water; it worked pretty well and some more mutations came along and made it work even better; and then some more mutations, and it worked really well) is not true?

The answer to Hunter is "yes" on both counts. Yes, it is conceivable that the gene is not the cause of the original appearance. If the evidence points against this gene being the cause then we need to see if we can do better. And yes, it is possible that the evolutionary account is not true. The question here becomes how much can we say is true and how much remains unknown? Then, how can we learn more about that which remains unknown?

Notice that Hunter's response to me glosses over the big point: that the analogy is poor. Because he jerry-rigs the analogy, the substance of his argument falls apart.

In the end, I think all that ID people like Hunter want is for a standard phrase (e.g., "but it could also have been an intelligent designer at some point") to be thrown in with every science story. So, every article would say something like, "Scientists think they have identified the gene controlling feature x, and they have considered whether an intelligent agent could have been involved at some indeterminate time in the distant past [but not more than 6000 years ago] to actually put together the machinery of the gene. Hallelujah." For them, everything, no matter what, points to gawd. Find a gene, don't find a gene. It's all the same: an elaborate attempt to convince people that they aren't stupid for thinking that their particular belief in a being who sustains it all is correct.

That's what this whole religious "war" on the so-called "new atheists" is, an emotionally driven sideshow rooted in their ultimate awareness of how silly their religious dogmas are.

The Creation “Museum” : Pharyngula

The Creation “Museum” : Pharyngula

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The truth about grit - The Boston Globe

The truth about grit - The Boston Globe

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