Anytime there's road kill, a raptor (or Allosaur) is bound to swoop in..(Dinosaur by Gary Staab, Staab Studios).
CARTOONS FROM THE REV
February 19th, 2012REVIEWS FROM THE REV: “Cave of Forgotten Dreams” a film by Werner Herzog.
February 19th, 2012
Werner Herzog is an odd duck (based on the glimpse into his mind that his documentaries have given me). But he is an odd duck that meditates on human stories that seem to matter. And the recent discovery of paleolithic cave art inside Chauvet Cave in France definitely matters.
Granted rare access to this carefully protected site, Herzog gives us a mesmerizing and unsettling glimpse into just how modern we modern humans are. What I mean by that is this: to study the highly stylized and sophisticated cave drawings and paintings by our European forbears (created some thirty to forty-thousand years ago –the oldest found to date) is to come face to face with the reality that they were most definitely us.
Admittedly, I watched Cave of Forgotten Dreams with the eye of a professional artist, but there is nothing at all “primitive” about the artwork these anonymous humans left behind. And as the documentary points out, this was all during a time when most of Europe was covered with glaciers, and we were sharing that cold (but sunny and well-stocked) landscape with our distant cousins the Neanderthals.
This is history and science described with a passionate humanity. Herzog is justly fascinated with the art itself, but his real passion is to somehow try to transcend the chasm of time and feel his way into the world that these Cro-magnon artists inhabited. This is the point where science leaves off, and imagination takes hold. This is Herzog’s domain, and he explores it heedless of whether he will sound silly or not (he sometimes does).
But being seen as a bit silly is a very small price to pay for such insight into our shared humanity.
t.n.s.r. bob
The Rev gives is 3.5 out of 4!
SERMON: “Where Have All the Gays Come From?” by the not-so-reverend bob
February 19th, 2012I’m recalling one of those random conversations in a lobby after a show. In this case, I was talking with a Christian friend of my mother’s after a performance of my one-man show (about the American painter John Singer Sargent). I was talking about one theory put forth by a writer that Sargent was actually a “closeted Victorian homosexual”. My mother’s friend blurted out “These homosexuals are everywhere these days”. To which I quickly replied “No. There’s the same number that there’s always been”. She looked at me with blank incomprehension.
What I understood her to be saying was that there seemed to her to be a proliferation of homosexuality, as if there were now simply more homosexuals as a percentage of the population. My point was that the occurrence of homosexuality in the population had not changed as a percentage throughout our history, but was likely a fairly reliable constant. Of course my point had two hurdles to overcome in this conversation: 1) The woman I was talking to probably held to an anti-evolution viewpoint (seeing it is an “anti-god” view of the origins of life), and so would not be open to a scientific view of human sexuality, and; 2) She was in the thrall of the perception that there were more homosexuals when what was much more likely the case was that she was aware of more homosexuals due to their increasing visibility in our culture.
It's not just homosexuals coming out of the closet these days!
(In that same vein, another current cultural trend is an increase in the number of Americans identifying themselves as “atheists” or “non-believers”. This fact, too, encourages some of us even as it really bothers others. But I wonder if these trends reflect any real tectonic shift in humanity or a more pedestrian lessening of the social pressures that mitigate public behavior).
There are two issues (at least) in play here. One involves a recognition of the natural variability within a species, and the other the purposes and effects of social “norms”.
To the first point, it is clear that homosexuality is a naturally-occuring phenomenon (we see it in other animal species beside our own). Recent genetic discoveries have only served to confirm the biological basis of this idea. (Therefore I have no reason to think that a propensity toward “non-belief” is any less a naturally-occuring variant of our species). And this is where the second point comes in.
We are highly social animals, and in order to live together we have long been at work constantly refining the ways in which we coexist in ever larger and more complex communities. We have developed what we call “social mores”, which are a sort of collective consensus on what is allowed and not allowed in society. But these rules are ever evolving along a spectrum between what one might call “oppression” and “liberty”.
When it comes to sex, I am reminded of Reay Tannahill’s fantastic book “Sex in History” (which is a delightful overview of just how different societies have dealt with issues of sex and sexual morality). It turns out that there is less a steady historical progression from ignorance and fear to tolerance and freedom as there have been pockets of different kinds of understandings of sexual behavior (you can find some very old civilizations with much more “advanced” views of sex than those of us modern Americans or Europeans).
But the main point I take away from this is that the human animal is going to be pretty much what it is when it comes to sex. What changes is what freedom individuals have to express that variety within society. And this is where the fearful conservatives get it right: when society loosens it’s control over individual sexual expression, variant behavior does appear to proliferate. But are we really seeing anything other than an expression of what is naturally occurring, but has only been suppressed or hidden? I don’t think so.
To get to the fine grain of the deal, I expect there is some difficult-to-quantify influence of a more sexually open society on individual behavior (as in some individuals might “try” things they would not otherwise engage in). But I doubt very much that even the most homosexual- (or atheist) friendly society is going to actually produce any more homosexuals (or atheists) than a repressive one. What it will do is make the no-longer-repressed variants more visible.
And I think this is a good thing when it comes to homosexuality (and atheism, for that matter).
Because I believe that we only have this one, short life. And though I understand and support the need for societal rules, the purpose of those rules is to allow the maximum number of humans to live as well as they possibly can. The place we draw lines in the sand is when an individuals behavior threatens the life or liberty of another. This is where ethics and civil law begin.
But religious belief gives many of us the idea that one woman marrying another woman and setting up house, raising some kids and living a normal, open life is a threat to our own chance at happiness. Sort of a zero-sum societal game. This is a pernicious trait in us humans that only adds to suffering, based on a notion that this particular variant of human sexuality (or — to belabor the point — non-belief) is inherently dangerous to society, despite the evidence we now have to the contrary.
But, then, the reality of our situation may well be this: just as with the number of potential homosexuals or atheists in the population at a given time, there will (also) always be a certain percentage biologically predisposed to be hyper religious, or moralizing, or fearful of those who don’t see the world just as they do.
The question then becomes (as it has always been, in my mind): how do we all manage to live together in harmony? This seems to be our most pressing and pragmatic goal (well, along with how do we do that while not making our planet unlivable in the near term).
To put it another way: for reasons that evolution makes clear, life varies to such a wide degree that our definitions of “normal” can only be statistical approximations of the mid-point on any bell-curve shaped spectrum of difference. But since the extremes on any such spectrum occur with “normal” frequency, can they really be viewed as “unnatural”.
Morality and social mores have their place. But we need to recognize that they are also variable measurements, subject to change (for good or ill). There are extremes of animal variability that are potentially dangerous to us (psychopathy comes to mind), but we are fortunate to live in an age of science where the identification of such dangers now rests in more pragmatic, evidence-based hands, and not in the fevered mind of the witch hunter or religious zealot.
Jesus said “The poor you will always have with you”. I think he could have included a whole lot more of humanity in that thought.
t.n.s.r. bob
CARTOONS FROM THE REV
February 12th, 2012
The other singers call him "Tenor Rex". He just about bit the head off the director. No - seriously.
REVIEWS FROM THE REV: “Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945″ by Max Hastings.
February 12th, 2012
“This is a book chiefly about human experience” begins the introduction of “Inferno: The World at War”, and what follows is just such an account.
“Inferno” offers a succinct overview of the greatest armed conflict the world has ever known in order to meditate upon the impact World War II had on the humans of that world. To do this the author keeps to a minimum discussions of troop movements and tactics, except where such details provide context or insight into how those decisions (or new technologies) impacted the people directly involved.
This is a heartbreaking version of a story we all think we know. But the author has the advantage of the passing of enough time to allow him to describe — without flinching — the good, the bad and the ugly of human behavior in wartime. It’s all here: the familiar campaigns, the famous leaders, the commanders notable for their cruelty, egotism or greatness. But the details of the when and where are held together by the glue of personal accounts from individuals caught up in the war, from every side and every walk of life. This is a book of snippets that paint a larger portrait, like a pointillist canvas: up close the bits of anecdotal information seem too small to describe such a global event, but in their cumulative power they enable the reader to grasp the enormity of this war that was nevertheless experienced one personal moment at a time.
I highly recommend this book, even if you’re not a “war buff”. This is, indeed, a book about human experience. The humans you’ll read about just happen to have been living, fighting, longing and dying during a global conflict.
t.n.s.r. bob
The rev gives it four Dimetrodons out of four!
SERMON: “The Still-Naked Emperor” by the not-so-reverend bob
February 12th, 2012I think one of the things that bugs me not just about religion, but also about the spectrum of irrational beliefs that people can hold, is that they mask the true fragility of all of life and culture.
I believe that this insistence on finding often fallacious outside (eternal, rock solid, unchanging) reference points for morality, ethics and human behavior (as well as industrial and political policy) present a sort of foundational challenge to the prospect of our long term survival as a species.
Everything we humans measure is measured relative to something else -- in this example our place in evolution.
It is the most basic truism of measurement: everything we humans measure is measured relative to something else, from the original royal “foot” to our modern “light years”. But somehow, when it comes to human morality we violently resist the notion that our measurements are at all “relative”. No. “God said it, I believe it, and that settles it” sort of sums up the absolutist stance. But even when one claims to have found a true North Star of morality in God, adjustments are always made in the actual application of that morality.
We all know and understand this on a civic level (this is why we have jury trials where context and intention influence the findings of guilt or innocence). But we also understand it on a personal level: nearly everything we do that affects other people is done with an awareness of the potential social cost or benefit — to us.
We humans know from long centuries of experience that we need rules to keep ourselves and society functioning smoothly, and yet we all bend — or break — the rules in a multitude of different ways. When done to extremes, these infractions are punished by the civil authorities (our elected tribal leaders). But in our day-to-day lives there is a truth that many are loathe to recognize: though we may want to believe in an absolute standard of right and wrong that exists outside of our physical world, we are yet ever thankful that we get away with cutting the moral corners that we do dozens of times a day.
Our religions, then, have as part of their appeal the absolute impossibility of the faithful application of their moral dictates to our lives: no one can live up to the law (be it civic or divine). And so we find ourselves in constant rebellion against that which we ourselves most desire. In short, we insist on a God we can never completely obey.
For we all wobble across those lines — even the most righteous (for they, too, pick and choose which precepts of their God-given religion are the most important). It’s human nature.
Why is this? We know why we want God to be there: to lend our lives a sense of purpose and transcendent meaning. So why the impossible-to-obey-rules? Perhaps this makes God “better” than us in a way that re-enforces his “other” status (but conveniently in a form that is able to “look the other way” when we need him to!) But what about the rules themselves?
Well, one of the problems with rules and laws is that they can reach a point of diminishing returns, where their capacity to influence behavior starts to weaken. There are never enough cops (or angels, apparently) to enforce them, so it is left up to us to sort of collectively decide which rules matter the most. (This is most clearly seen in popular mass media, where public outrage over this crime or that criminal ebbs and flows, even as the attention of the public moves on from one favorite outrage to the next. If enough people are angry, a law can suddenly be applied with the full vigor of civil force. If enough people cease to care that much, then laws just as much “on the books” are easily ignored. It happens all the time).
And yet we persist in supporting the myth of a divine law that is immune to a collective human relativism. There is no such thing. We humans are the ones who make — and break — the rules.
We humans seem to be natural utopians. This can be hard to spot as it can take almost any ideological form. And so those of us that believe in the social value of a strong central government can easily fall into the trap of passing ever more laws to feel like we’re doing something (altering human behavior) that we’re actually not . While libertarians and anarchists have their own utopian vision built from the extremely silly view that no laws are better than too many.
There is, lurking in between these views, perhaps some sort of “zone of effectiveness”, or “sweet spot” to aim for.
What most upsets society is unfairness. Not so much because we care a great deal for others as we don’t want our own societal sacrifice to be greater than anyone else’s. This is where the reality of the power of perception becomes critical. (Members of the TEA Party, for example, are convinced that they are paying far higher taxes than they actually are and that their “hard earned money” is going straight into the pockets of lazy minorities).
We are quick to criticize those who govern us for paying too much attention to the polls (or “political” reality) when in truth they are making the same kinds of calculations that you or I make in our own daily actions, albeit on a much larger scale. Make no mistake: there are things citizens simply won’t stand for. This is not cynicism — this is reality. (Adding God to the mix, or putting up the Bible’s ten commandments in every courthouse just sort of muddies up the waters without adding much of use).
For unlike God, we humans have to balance out justice and mercy in the real world of our day to day interactions with each other in a way that maintains some semblance of personal integrity while also seeing to our own personal comfort and safety. The fact that we (generally) selfish humans care for each other as much as we do is one of the saving graces of our species.
Maybe it’s best not to question the myth of morality’s divine origin. Perhaps we’re better off to let that sleeping dog lie. But somehow I don’t think society will unravel once we see this divine “Emperor” naked, because he was never the one making us behave in the first place. And maybe — once we realize that — we will begin to see civil society as the delicate and vulnerable phenomena that it is, and treat it with a good deal more care and kindness than we currently do, and thereby finally take full responsibility for our malleable human morality.
t.n.s.r. bob
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February 7th, 2012
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CARTOONS FROM THE REV
February 5th, 2012
Modern development is restricting the traditional migratory patterns of the large dinosaurs. Well, that and extinction.
SERMON: “Exploring a Universe Beyond Belief” by the not-so-reverend bob
February 5th, 2012At times it feels as if I could be a small, human-sized probe hurling silently through the universe, looking back toward my earthly home and noting, from time to time, how differently it looks from an ever-increasing remove (something like that remarkable American Museum of Natural History animation that offers a mind-altering perspective on our place in the vastness of the known universe). And as I race further from the point where my journey began, I find that my feelings about life on this planet continue to evolve as my increasing knowledge continues to feed my changing perceptions.
I can trace my launch off into existential space to the week I disconnected from the bonds of my religious belief some 25 years ago. At that moment it felt as if some cosmic rubber bands that were stretched to their limit — and that had been keeping me attached to my beliefs up to that point — were suddenly severed, and all the stored-up energy of years of suppressed questions expelled me into the great, black, existential void of space. Though it took many more years of floating around within the gravitational pull of belief before I finally slipped out of that particular system into the vastness beyond, my course was set.
The East Coast of the United States as seen from space. NASA photo.
This all sounds a bit hyperbolic, but as a metaphor it is apt and useful. The truth is that the majority of humans appear to show little or no interest in moving beyond belief, and the constricted perspective that it offers in return for its comforts. I understand that, because I can tell you from experience that the view from outside that familiar, small world is, indeed, disconcerting.
On the surface, then, that would seem to be an argument in favor of not stepping outside of that believing, comfortable world, except for one tiny problem: reality.
For many of us, the dawning of a spiritual awareness can feel like (and is often promised to be) the one great leap of faith that will ever be required of us. After all, who ever heard of needing a “second conversion” once you’ve found THE TRUTH? Well, you’re hearing it here. It could be argued that human history is a record of the struggle with that second conversion: a conversion from the revealed “truth” of superstition and religious belief to reality.
In part because of the discipline of this blog, the speed of my own flight from belief has only increased, and with that increased speed has come a higher frequency of perspective shifts. To the end that I have arrived at a sufficient distance from belief to feel like I can now see it both for what it is, and for what it is not.
And what I see in belief is a phenomenon of consciousness, spread across the spectrum of animals that exhibit in in accordance with the sophistication of their evolved brains. We humans are the big-brained, verbal language-endowed believers, so our beliefs are naturally the more complex (though by no means qualitatively singular in all ways to our species). But our religious beliefs are completely our own, and have no supporting source anywhere outside of our busy brains. They are an artifact of our minds, pure and simple. But of course, our experience of existence is not simple at all, and — artifact or not — belief is a part of that experience.
I don’t think it is my “job” to rid humanity of irrational belief. I would have to have the egotism of a fundamentalist evangelist to think that a) eliminating belief were a feasible goal, or; b) that I was the one human of such power to accomplish that goal. I’m afraid I am finding myself more and more in line with the feelings of our late comedian George Carlin when he sees little chance of humankind making any significant alterations in their own path. This is not necessarily a comfortable existential place to be, but I feel like I am seeing things ever more clearly as I continue to spin out into the space that (it turns out) exists beyond belief.
I often compare my thinking of today to the way I saw the world as a Christian, remembering that Christianity made sense to me then (as it does to many now), and offered some sort of worldview that was workable. At this more distant remove, however, I can’t see how it could work at all, and most certainly not with the knowledge of science I now have. I think fundamentalist religion (in particular) functions best, like all irrational belief, in a certain mental environment where curiosity is dampened, and solace valued more than fact.
But to the hyper religious, my views may appear as merely a competing creed, based upon hope, fear and desire (to the same degree that their own faith is). That is a tough nut to crack, because one always hopes to get it right, and fears getting it wrong and being found out to be a fool. (Check out this clip of Bill Maher making the point that “Atheism is a religion like abstinence is a sex position”).
But I think it’s pretty clear that science (even with all of its faults and false-starts and revision in the face of new evidence) is the best tool we’ve got going to ascertain the nature of reality. As the comedian Eddie Izzard so funnily put it, science has “Bunsen burners” and all of its other trappings of actual experiment, whereas believers in God have…a book.
The religious (be they old-time or new-age) don’t trust science, in part because it constantly shatters illusion. They therefore most often accuse it of being too narrow or blind to the kinds of “evidence” that science routinely ignores as unmeasurable (and therefore not evidence at all, but belief). In short such believers think science has (for it’s own imagined, selfish reasons) set the bar for “evidence” too high, when what science has actually done is reveal to us just how low that “bar” has been for most of our history.
And so we find ourselves in a modern society in which a majority of our fellow citizens openly distrust science because they continue to value religion. What can be done in the face of such a dynamic, when there are dozens of “conservative” legislators that would happily de-fund any and all governmental scientific research given the chance?
This is our social reality that fights against the revelation of our true physical reality, be it global climate change, the genetic basis of sexual preference, or the meaninglessness of “race” as a scientific term.
We are an odd bunch of animals, but once we accept that we are, indeed, animals, we are then free to see ourselves as we truly are. Contrary to the protestations of the religiously devout, such knowledge does not debase us in the least. It only feels like we are brought down because we have for so long imagined ourselves as creatures that we are not: divinely made, every hair of our head valued by a vast and incomprehensible sky god (that nevertheless inclines his cosmic ear to our every utterance and our every thought).
It takes only a step back to see how absurd such a belief is. But another step away can bring us into an understanding of why we are so naturally inclined to believe such things in the first place. One more step away and we can see that such a state will likely continue, and that there will always be this struggle between the humans that have braved their fear to see what really lies behind the mysteries that frighten us, and those that would just rather not know.
Such is our “fate”, I believe. Like George Carlin I will always carry a glowing coal of hope for humanity within me, and will enjoy the humane, intelligent humor of the likes of Eddie Izzard. I will be awed by the kind of beautiful AMNH animation that gives form to the knowledge of the cosmos that scientists have fought so hard to accumulate, and look for the ways that I can be a decent human being that does what he can to make the world he can affect as good as it can be. But I will not suffer under a delusion of my specialness in the vastness of this universe (nor even on this tiny planet).
One’s response to reality will inevitably vary depending on one’s temperament. Many just plain don’t like it. That’s their right. I got into this Quixotic quest in order to figure out my own place in the world, and the rest, as they say, just sort of happened. I am as self-centered as every other animal that has ever lived. But thanks to science I can understand, like Cyrano, that in life I “was everything yet was nothing” (everything to me, yet nothing to the universe). And that’s just the way it is.
t.n.s.r. bob