Well, I'm getting old. In one year, I'm going to have to start writing a senior thesis about something related to political science (I think). I don't have any ideas other than to write a fictional story of some sort, as it involves me not doing any research whatsoever. Hooray for laziness!
Aside from that, I have been inundated by reading, most of which I haven't done, so I don't have an insightful or thoughtful post today.
What I do have is a quote I said to a friend the other day about dreams; she said that sleeping is like preparing for death, but I said that "dreaming is where I can be truly alive."
I guess that's it.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Brouhaha
If you are someone who pays attention to Congressional elections (which, for America, is about 40% of you), you know how important the upcoming Congressional elections are. You also know that there is vehement crapslinging (one step worse than mudslinging) from both sides, and that the television media only aids in this crapslinging. For that reason, I ask that you, my loyal reader, not watch any TV news regarding the Congressional elections. Read the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, whatever; just don't watch TV news.
Why? Well, for one thing, TV news is heavily opinionated. Wait, you may say, the newspapers are opinionated too. They may be opinionated, but, in the case of the New York Times, only on the last page. Otherwise, all journalists are required to give two sides to every story and be more fair and balanced (in the literal sense of the term, not Fox's).
TV news has an affinity for shaping people's arguments and opinions, and even making non-pertinent topics prudent. If all TV news were balanced, then Park 51 wouldn't be an issue and nor would Pastor Terry Jones.
So, I encourage you to read your news rather than hear it from Glenn Beck, Keith Olbermann, Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity, Chris Matthews, the aboriginal pygmies at CNN, or your local grumpy pedophile. I know that no one purportedly reads anymore, but I must say that it's entertaining to read about how candidate Christine O'Donnell dabbled in witchcraft and believes that masturbation is infidelity.
I guess I'm going to hell, then.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
Why? Well, for one thing, TV news is heavily opinionated. Wait, you may say, the newspapers are opinionated too. They may be opinionated, but, in the case of the New York Times, only on the last page. Otherwise, all journalists are required to give two sides to every story and be more fair and balanced (in the literal sense of the term, not Fox's).
TV news has an affinity for shaping people's arguments and opinions, and even making non-pertinent topics prudent. If all TV news were balanced, then Park 51 wouldn't be an issue and nor would Pastor Terry Jones.
So, I encourage you to read your news rather than hear it from Glenn Beck, Keith Olbermann, Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity, Chris Matthews, the aboriginal pygmies at CNN, or your local grumpy pedophile. I know that no one purportedly reads anymore, but I must say that it's entertaining to read about how candidate Christine O'Donnell dabbled in witchcraft and believes that masturbation is infidelity.
I guess I'm going to hell, then.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Kill it with Fire
If you're a hermit and have not been listening to the news, then you haven't heard of fringe religious pastor Terry Jones who threatened to burn Qu'rans this past September 11th. His reason for burning the holy book of the Muslim people was because he "wanted to send radical Islam a message." What I find funny is that he probably didn't realize the irony if his statement; he should have just replaced "Islam" with the name of his church.
You see, Pastor Jones is a radical in his own right; he calls Islam the "devil's religion" and that Islam is trying to dominate the United States and the world. Now, I won't challenge the legality of his right to protest the religion by burning a piece of symbolism (as established in Texas v. Johnson), but I will call him irrational. Why? Well, you'll see.
Firstly, the US' image overseas, to many Muslims, is that the country is at war with Islam itself instead of with al Qaeda, the Taliban, etc. Those groups, in turn, utilize that rhetoric to recruit young men into their ranks. Pastor Jones, with his widespread media coverage and his handlebar mustache now played all over the world, is now becoming a rallying point for radical Muslims.
(Pictured: 19th-century sex.)
With his anti-Islam message, the radical Islamic groups can now say "Look! Americans allow for the burning of the holy book without chastising him for it! Join us and defend our beliefs!" (Hope that doesn't sound too campy) A battle based on beliefs, especially personal beliefs, is the most difficult and time-consuming battle, and is almost always impossible to win.
Aside from that, Pastor Jones has revealed a flaw in our portrayal of Muslims in the country: they are all radical. The Pastor has conflated all Muslims into essentially one entity, which, as we all know, is illogical. Like I've said before, not all Catholic priests are pedophiles, not all black people are criminals, and not all Chinese people know Kung-Fu.
If this post seems a little errant, that's because I had too much damned reading to do. Hell, I'm barely even doing it.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
You see, Pastor Jones is a radical in his own right; he calls Islam the "devil's religion" and that Islam is trying to dominate the United States and the world. Now, I won't challenge the legality of his right to protest the religion by burning a piece of symbolism (as established in Texas v. Johnson), but I will call him irrational. Why? Well, you'll see.
Firstly, the US' image overseas, to many Muslims, is that the country is at war with Islam itself instead of with al Qaeda, the Taliban, etc. Those groups, in turn, utilize that rhetoric to recruit young men into their ranks. Pastor Jones, with his widespread media coverage and his handlebar mustache now played all over the world, is now becoming a rallying point for radical Muslims.
(Pictured: 19th-century sex.)
With his anti-Islam message, the radical Islamic groups can now say "Look! Americans allow for the burning of the holy book without chastising him for it! Join us and defend our beliefs!" (Hope that doesn't sound too campy) A battle based on beliefs, especially personal beliefs, is the most difficult and time-consuming battle, and is almost always impossible to win.
Aside from that, Pastor Jones has revealed a flaw in our portrayal of Muslims in the country: they are all radical. The Pastor has conflated all Muslims into essentially one entity, which, as we all know, is illogical. Like I've said before, not all Catholic priests are pedophiles, not all black people are criminals, and not all Chinese people know Kung-Fu.
If this post seems a little errant, that's because I had too much damned reading to do. Hell, I'm barely even doing it.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
Friday, September 10, 2010
Insert evil laugh here
My psych professor asked a question about the nature of evil, and below is my answer. It's not very good.
The very concept of evil didn't originate until the advent of the concept of morality and right and wrong. That being the case, it took a lot of time until people were able to reason that murdering your neighbor because you envy his flock of sheep is wrong because it is detrimental to the community, animalistic, and barbaric.
The most native and fundamental motive to the human being is the sense of self-preservation, aka selfishness (to a degree). The concept of evil can be attributed to a human's desire to survive well and beyond his means, though in this case I am circumventing the average person's ability to reason and behave rationally. This selfishness, when humans hunted in tribes, would be diffused to the other members of the tribe, essentially creating an entagled web that was almost analogous to one complete person rather than many. Tribal raids between humans were common, and the tribes that emerged victorious also reveled in the spoils of their victory, oftentimes being the women, weapons and supplies of the defeated tribe. In more evolutionary anthropological terms, winning a raid essentially meant the diversifying of the gene pool, creating more fit and better adaptable offspring. Thus, as self-preservation in this case extends to the entirety of the tribe, the human is fulfilling his primal desires.
As we live in a time where good and evil are more defined, though the boundaries become fuzzy, it is somewhat easier to determine. However, there are special cases: is acting evil in order to produce a good outcome still evil? Is acting with good intentions but achieving a deleterious outcome still considered evil? (I have often heard that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, though I find that to be a logical fallacy.)
In this case, I choose to ignore religious precepts for good and evil because there are many different religious standards in different beliefs, though all (or at least most) religions can agree that there are several things that are universally considered "evil": murder without justifiable reason, theft, and pork. (Interesting note: There was an ancient Greek cult which forbade the consumption of beans. Go figure.)
Just to explain my pork statement, and to quote one of my favorite movies:
Vincent: Want some bacon?
Jules: No man, I don't eat pork.
Vincent: Are you Jewish?
Jules: Nah, I ain't Jewish, I just don't dig on swine, that's all.
Vincent: Why not?
Jules: Pigs are filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals.
Vincent: Bacon tastes gooood. Pork chops taste gooood.
Jules: Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy mother****er. Pigs sleep and root in ****. That's a filthy animal. I ain't eat nothin' that ain't got sense enough to disregard its own feces.
Vincent: How about a dog? Dogs eats its own feces.
Jules: I don't eat dog either.
Vincent: Yeah, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy animal?
Jules: I wouldn't go so far as to call a dog filthy but they're definitely dirty. But, a dog's got personality. Personality goes a long way.
Vincent: Ah, so by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he would cease to be a filthy animal. Is that true?
Jules: Well we'd have to be talkin' about one charming mother****in' pig. I mean he'd have to be ten times more charmin' than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I'm sayin'?
The rule was written that pork was disallowed in many religions because, essentially, pigs are dirty. That's it. They're evil.
I think I lost track of the question.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
The very concept of evil didn't originate until the advent of the concept of morality and right and wrong. That being the case, it took a lot of time until people were able to reason that murdering your neighbor because you envy his flock of sheep is wrong because it is detrimental to the community, animalistic, and barbaric.
The most native and fundamental motive to the human being is the sense of self-preservation, aka selfishness (to a degree). The concept of evil can be attributed to a human's desire to survive well and beyond his means, though in this case I am circumventing the average person's ability to reason and behave rationally. This selfishness, when humans hunted in tribes, would be diffused to the other members of the tribe, essentially creating an entagled web that was almost analogous to one complete person rather than many. Tribal raids between humans were common, and the tribes that emerged victorious also reveled in the spoils of their victory, oftentimes being the women, weapons and supplies of the defeated tribe. In more evolutionary anthropological terms, winning a raid essentially meant the diversifying of the gene pool, creating more fit and better adaptable offspring. Thus, as self-preservation in this case extends to the entirety of the tribe, the human is fulfilling his primal desires.
As we live in a time where good and evil are more defined, though the boundaries become fuzzy, it is somewhat easier to determine. However, there are special cases: is acting evil in order to produce a good outcome still evil? Is acting with good intentions but achieving a deleterious outcome still considered evil? (I have often heard that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, though I find that to be a logical fallacy.)
In this case, I choose to ignore religious precepts for good and evil because there are many different religious standards in different beliefs, though all (or at least most) religions can agree that there are several things that are universally considered "evil": murder without justifiable reason, theft, and pork. (Interesting note: There was an ancient Greek cult which forbade the consumption of beans. Go figure.)
Just to explain my pork statement, and to quote one of my favorite movies:
Vincent: Want some bacon?
Jules: No man, I don't eat pork.
Vincent: Are you Jewish?
Jules: Nah, I ain't Jewish, I just don't dig on swine, that's all.
Vincent: Why not?
Jules: Pigs are filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals.
Vincent: Bacon tastes gooood. Pork chops taste gooood.
Jules: Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy mother****er. Pigs sleep and root in ****. That's a filthy animal. I ain't eat nothin' that ain't got sense enough to disregard its own feces.
Vincent: How about a dog? Dogs eats its own feces.
Jules: I don't eat dog either.
Vincent: Yeah, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy animal?
Jules: I wouldn't go so far as to call a dog filthy but they're definitely dirty. But, a dog's got personality. Personality goes a long way.
Vincent: Ah, so by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he would cease to be a filthy animal. Is that true?
Jules: Well we'd have to be talkin' about one charming mother****in' pig. I mean he'd have to be ten times more charmin' than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I'm sayin'?
The rule was written that pork was disallowed in many religions because, essentially, pigs are dirty. That's it. They're evil.
I think I lost track of the question.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
Sunday, September 5, 2010
(Almost) Labor Day Lunacy
Every Sunday, I make the long and perilous 15 minute drive from college to my house in order to do my laundry, work out a bit, and contemplate life.
(Pictured: Bad humor.)
My dad, the Argentine immigrant that he is, decided to ingratiate himself into American culture by doing what a lot of other people do over Labor Day weekend: have a barbecue. His friends came, all of them over the age of 40, leaving me only to hope that I don't look that old when I reach 50. Anyway, skipping past my title of grill master and subsequently stinking of charcoal, after the meal was done I decided to do my usual routine of exercising. I was startled by the sound of my dad yelling at a rather irate and intransigent codger about immigration.
Upon hearing their debate, one facet of the conversation I realized, possibly the most important, was that the old codger was using arguments and almost emulating verbatim the rhetoric of those on Fox News. I had never actually encountered anyone who had so fervently spouted the absolute horse crap that Fox News flaunted as "fair and balanced"; I was amazed. My father (hopefully) soon realized that arguing with that curmudgeon was akin to eating a pinecone; sure, it would give you good fiber, but you don't like the feeling.
It is something that reinforces a personal credo of mine: You can't win an argument with an idiot. Idiot, in this case, is not someone who simply disagrees with me; it is someone who does not have an informed opinion with which to sustain a logical and coherent argument. Essentially, it is the very definition of the word: someone lacking knowledge.
I could go on about how denigrating it is for America to have so many people like that curmudgeon, or how personal opinions have been supplanted by pundit opinions, but, I just feel like I'd be exhuming a dead horse, beating it, burying it again, and then repeating the process simply because I could.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
(Pictured: Bad humor.)
My dad, the Argentine immigrant that he is, decided to ingratiate himself into American culture by doing what a lot of other people do over Labor Day weekend: have a barbecue. His friends came, all of them over the age of 40, leaving me only to hope that I don't look that old when I reach 50. Anyway, skipping past my title of grill master and subsequently stinking of charcoal, after the meal was done I decided to do my usual routine of exercising. I was startled by the sound of my dad yelling at a rather irate and intransigent codger about immigration.
Upon hearing their debate, one facet of the conversation I realized, possibly the most important, was that the old codger was using arguments and almost emulating verbatim the rhetoric of those on Fox News. I had never actually encountered anyone who had so fervently spouted the absolute horse crap that Fox News flaunted as "fair and balanced"; I was amazed. My father (hopefully) soon realized that arguing with that curmudgeon was akin to eating a pinecone; sure, it would give you good fiber, but you don't like the feeling.
It is something that reinforces a personal credo of mine: You can't win an argument with an idiot. Idiot, in this case, is not someone who simply disagrees with me; it is someone who does not have an informed opinion with which to sustain a logical and coherent argument. Essentially, it is the very definition of the word: someone lacking knowledge.
I could go on about how denigrating it is for America to have so many people like that curmudgeon, or how personal opinions have been supplanted by pundit opinions, but, I just feel like I'd be exhuming a dead horse, beating it, burying it again, and then repeating the process simply because I could.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Ad Infinitum
As I have been relatively busy so far after moving into college, I haven't had time to update my blog. My psych teacher recently asked us an online question about belief and religion, and I thought it interesting enough to post on here. Included are my answers.
What role in the life of the individual is played by a belief in God?
Being an Atheist, I can safely assume that I am in no way objective in my beliefs, but I will try to be as much so as is possible. Being an Atheist also means that I made a concerted effort believing in some kind of deity, but I eventually rationalized to myself that there was, in fact (at least to me), no existence of any tenable God of any kind. The concept of any god, in its origins, serves as an explanation for the natural world around us-i.e., the seasons change because Demeter only sees her daughter Persephone for 1/3 of the year (Greek mythology). In modernity, a belief in God is typically accompanied with a belief in some kind of afterlife and the perpetuation of life after death. It is a very comforting thought to believe that a deceased relative is continually living in a "better place" rather than simply dying.
In trying to understand someone, how much importance should we give to studying that person's attitude toward and faith (or lack thereof) in a god?
When attempting to understand someone, we must not only gauge their belief in a god, but the belief in the mythology surrounding the god. For example, the "great flood" as described in the bible would have been scientifically impossible on Earth because of the massive amount of heat that would have been released after the enormous rainfall, not to mention the gathering of two animals of every species from around the planet crossing great distances and oceans to simply reach one boat. It is not impossible, but certainly extremely implausible.
To be concise about my point, one has to be religious within reason. One simply should not dismiss what others would consider scientific fact simply because it contrasts with one's religious beliefs (Galileo and the church).
If we think of the idea of God as referring to any principle or power, however defined, in which one believes absolutely and with certainty, is there anyone who does not believe in a god?
If it is defined as such, then seemingly everyone believes in some sort of God. If that is the case, the Tea Party can be considered a "God" (though I shudder at the thought), Rutgers can be a "God", and greed can be a "God." There is a difference, however, between absolute belief in something and actual worshipping.
Do all people have such a faith somehow expressed, somehow anchoring their existences? Or is human life possible in the actual absence of such absolute commitments? If our task is to understand a person, can we do so without including a central consideration of what that person's areas of faith and certainty are?
All people have faith in something- I for one have faith in the Mets, though they continually let me down every single year. I do not, however, anchor myself into their every undulating phase. I do feel a bit depressed with each loss (though I've gotten used to it), but it is not enough to drive me to the edge of insanity (though they have tried). I should hope that most people do not entrust their lives into a concept without actually considering themselves before said concept. To be clearer, I hope that no one so inextricably links their lives into some religious meaning so deeply that they end up not being able to reason without relating to their deity.
Understanding a person without knowing their preferences in faith and religiosity is like eating in Tillet Dining Hall- you see that it's food (or used to be), but you're just not sure what it is. There is a certain "level", if you will, of people that is beyond faith and is simply the person's own beliefs, but it takes extraordinary circumstances to reach that level.
There's my opinion, though I personally already disagree with myself.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
What role in the life of the individual is played by a belief in God?
Being an Atheist, I can safely assume that I am in no way objective in my beliefs, but I will try to be as much so as is possible. Being an Atheist also means that I made a concerted effort believing in some kind of deity, but I eventually rationalized to myself that there was, in fact (at least to me), no existence of any tenable God of any kind. The concept of any god, in its origins, serves as an explanation for the natural world around us-i.e., the seasons change because Demeter only sees her daughter Persephone for 1/3 of the year (Greek mythology). In modernity, a belief in God is typically accompanied with a belief in some kind of afterlife and the perpetuation of life after death. It is a very comforting thought to believe that a deceased relative is continually living in a "better place" rather than simply dying.
In trying to understand someone, how much importance should we give to studying that person's attitude toward and faith (or lack thereof) in a god?
When attempting to understand someone, we must not only gauge their belief in a god, but the belief in the mythology surrounding the god. For example, the "great flood" as described in the bible would have been scientifically impossible on Earth because of the massive amount of heat that would have been released after the enormous rainfall, not to mention the gathering of two animals of every species from around the planet crossing great distances and oceans to simply reach one boat. It is not impossible, but certainly extremely implausible.
To be concise about my point, one has to be religious within reason. One simply should not dismiss what others would consider scientific fact simply because it contrasts with one's religious beliefs (Galileo and the church).
If we think of the idea of God as referring to any principle or power, however defined, in which one believes absolutely and with certainty, is there anyone who does not believe in a god?
If it is defined as such, then seemingly everyone believes in some sort of God. If that is the case, the Tea Party can be considered a "God" (though I shudder at the thought), Rutgers can be a "God", and greed can be a "God." There is a difference, however, between absolute belief in something and actual worshipping.
Do all people have such a faith somehow expressed, somehow anchoring their existences? Or is human life possible in the actual absence of such absolute commitments? If our task is to understand a person, can we do so without including a central consideration of what that person's areas of faith and certainty are?
All people have faith in something- I for one have faith in the Mets, though they continually let me down every single year. I do not, however, anchor myself into their every undulating phase. I do feel a bit depressed with each loss (though I've gotten used to it), but it is not enough to drive me to the edge of insanity (though they have tried). I should hope that most people do not entrust their lives into a concept without actually considering themselves before said concept. To be clearer, I hope that no one so inextricably links their lives into some religious meaning so deeply that they end up not being able to reason without relating to their deity.
Understanding a person without knowing their preferences in faith and religiosity is like eating in Tillet Dining Hall- you see that it's food (or used to be), but you're just not sure what it is. There is a certain "level", if you will, of people that is beyond faith and is simply the person's own beliefs, but it takes extraordinary circumstances to reach that level.
There's my opinion, though I personally already disagree with myself.
That's all for now,
Das Flüg
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