There are young men and women up and down the land who happily (or unhappily) tell anyone who will listen that they don't have an academic turn of mind, or that they aren't lucky enough to have been blessed with a good memory, and yet can recite hundreds of pop lyrics and reel off any amount of information about footballers, cars and celebrities. Why? Because they are interested in those things. They are curious. If you are hungry for food you hunt high and low for it. If you are hungry for information it is the same. Information is all around us, now more than ever before in human history. You barely have to stir or incommode yourself to find things out. The only reason people do not know much is because they do not care to know. They are incurious. Incuriosity is the oddest and most foolish failing there is.— Stephen Fry, The Fry Chronicles (New York: Overlook Press, 2012), Kindle Edition, location 1260.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
This is not the entire truth, but it is the lion's share of it:
Monday, March 2, 2015
The fourth chapter of G. A. Wells's Can We Trust the New Testament? (LaSalle, IL: Open Court, 2004) is brilliant. The whole book may be brilliant for all I know, but most of it discusses details of NT criticism that I am not competent judge. The fourth chapter, however, comments on various modern and postmodern interpretations of Christianity, and here Wells seems to hit the nail on the head. As he concludes:
We no longer have an ecclesiastical organization able to impose assent to its ideas on the whole population. Instead there is intellectual anarchy in which the conflict of ideas and principles is often replaced by rival forms of make-believe. Freedom of ideas and of expression is degraded into licence to talk at random and make phrases. The resulting fantastic 'explanations' may persist because of their tranquilizing value and the absence of ready means of disproof. In the concrete branches of science, words and phrases are kept in constant touch with real things, so that nonsense is excluded or easily detected. But in theology—as also in literary criticism, and indeed in the humanities generally—what is propounded all too often has no contact with reality except to be verbally repeated in various combinations. (177)One runs into this kind of thing quite often in certain philosophical circles, but at least philosophy has the analytic camps as well. It seems, however, that every time I pick up a book on theology—well, modern theology, at least—it will without fail consist of a pastiche of nebulous but evocative statements, all very confidently declared with hardly a nod to evidence: the kind of things for which Daniel Dennett's daughter has coined the wonderful term "deepities."
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Jesus and Mo comments on the latest backwards law to come out of that medieval country, which redefines "terrorism" to include "calling for atheist thought in any form, or calling into question the fundamentals of the Islamic religion on which this country is based."
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Responding to the argument that the prevalence of religion is evidence for the truth of one of them:
— Guy Harrison, 50 Popular Beliefs That People Think Are True (Prometheus, 2011), p. 254.Yes, religion has been near universal throughout history. Humans have created hundreds of thousands of religions and claimed the existence of hundreds of millions of unique gods. But no proof for these gods is to be found in these numbers. If anything, it is a compelling argument for the likelihood that all gods were invented. More to the point, key contradictions between those hundreds of thousands of religions do not help make the case for any single belief system being correct. One billion Hindus believing in millions of gods does not reinforce the claims of 1.5 billion monotheistic Muslims, for example. The disharmony among believers today and throughout the past suggests just one thing: we look very much like a species that loves to make up gods and invent religions.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
I have a lot of books in my queue, but when Mitchell Stephens's Imagine There's No Heaven: How Atheism Helped Create the Modern World (Palgrave, 2014) came out, it went straight to the top. The book does not disappoint. I have not encountered a decent overview of the history of atheism since Thrower's Western Atheism: A Short History (Prometheus Books, 1999). Now, that particular torch has been passed to Stephens.
There is a personal note toward the end of the book that highlights how far at least Western civilization has come with respect to atheism just in the last fifty years, much less since the days of the auto-da-fé:
I first contemplated writing writing a history of atheism and its accomplishments a couple of decades ago. I was distracted then by other projects. But I must admit I considered at that time what the reaction to such a book might be. Should I fear protests? Would I be invited to promote the book on the air? Now, in the United States in the second decade of the twenty-first century, such fears seem quaint.
There is much yet to be done, but seeing how much already has been won for reason in the face of intolerance and even violent persecution, it is difficult not to be optimistic about the future.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Ken Ham, the head of a creationist organization and builder of a creationism museum, is angry about the new movie Noah, which he labels "disgusting and evil—paganism!" Among his complaints:
Do you really want your family to see a pagan movie that portrays Noah as a psychopath who says that if his daughter-in-law’s baby is a girl then he will kill her as soon as she’s born? And when two girls are born, bloodstained Noah (the man the Bible calls “righteous” in Genesis 7:1) brings a knife down to the head of one of the babies to kill her—and at the last minute doesn’t do it. And then a bit later, Noah says he failed because he didn’t kill the babies. How can we recommend this movie and then speak against abortion? Psychopathic Noah sees humans as a blight on the planet and wants to rid the world of people.
My reaction to this is the same as most freethinkers': that it is an odd complaint from someone who worships the greatest mass-murderer (not to mention mass-child-murderer) who has ever lived. If one believes in a literal flood, then God actually did on a worldwide scale what Noah could not bring himself to do in the movie. Glen Davidson put it perfectly on The Panda's Thumb:
Now go out and build your Ark Park complete with the screams of the babies that God kills, Ken. That should make you feel better.
Not that I'm planning to run out and see Noah, mind you. Although I definitely would go see the Auralnaut's version:
— Lisa Randall, Knocking on Heaven's Door (New York: HarperCollins, 2011), p. 58.
[I]t is still possible to [be religious and] be an accomplished scientist. And indeed, religion might well yield valuable psychological benefits. But any religious scientist has to face daily the scientific challenge to his belief. The religious part of your brain cannot act at the same time as the scientific one. They are simply incompatible.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
There was a protest at the Portland State University campus today, while I was in class. A gentleman was on a bullhorn shouting "What do we want?" repeatedly, in reply to which the large crowd he had gathered would shout something no one in my class could understand. As I was able to find out only later, it was a show of solidarity with the professors after stalled budget negotiations between them and the administration. That would have been nice to know while the protest was in progress. For all I knew, it was a rally for the awareness of microaggressions or some similar nonsense. If you use a bullhorn, at least make sure the bullhorn carries your message, since more people will hear it clearly than will be able to hear a shouting crowd clearly. As one of my classmates asked, after about ten iterations of the chant, "What do they want?"
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Like many others, Hirsi Ali noticed that in the name of anti-racism European liberals were following a racist policy. When mass immigration began, they resolved to emphasize what divided rather than what united people, and to show their compassion by respecting the culture of 'the other'. Compassion sounds a fine virtue, which ordinarily leads the compassionate to help those less fortunate than themselves. In Europe, it produced indolence and indifference: a squishy liberal version of apartheid in which the authorities downplayed the genital mutilation of girls on kitchen tables and the murder of women who refused to accept arranged marriages because the women on the receiving end of the abuse were not white.— Nick Cohen, You Can't Read This Book (London: HarperCollins, 2012), p. 104.