A Fragment on Insufficiency

Stepping into the violent shore of opinion to wade smugly in conflicts roused by the opposing winds, I want to take on an argument against the religion/science dichotomy. The proclaimed arbiters of belief have minimized in two camps the boundaries in which it is conventional to accept one claim over another. On the one hand the common argument against religion is science (evolutionary, geologic, physical). On the other is the idea that faith transcends irreducibility. These false duels perpetuate a conflict that is self-generating, and that in its consumptive vitriol it spawns a misguided enmity that satisfies neither party. The disparity of “proof” on both sides is a different understanding of misunderstanding. It is a shouting match between deaf-mutes discussing different topics.

First, let’s dispense with the misnomer “atheist”. I do not disbelieve in God. I do, however, believe in the non-existence of God. My believe is a positive, and the prefix-negation belongs to what does not exist. Positing the denial of a certain belief through the negative runs counterintuitive to most traits. Does writing with my right hand make me “a-sinistral”? No, it makes me dextral. (Once started, you can take this negative modification to absurd stretches: a Republican is an “a-Democrat”, someone with no preference to fish is an “a-pescetarian” and so on.) Of course the term was not coined as a positive description. Atheism can be seen as a disability (and often it is perceived as such). Disability, no matter how much it may or may not hinder a person, is a negative descriptor despite the protests some individuals might announce. If we must insist on terms positing one’s certainty on the fictionality of a God, how about “irreligious”. Of course this term does not address any deity, but one can justifiably assume one’s indifference to religion may lead to no adherence to God-beliefs (not always, of course; there are many non-denominational believers, but those beliefs become so benign, so selective doctrinally, that attention isn’t much merited). Eschewing “atheist” for irreligious takes on a more precise, positive quality.

Just as God springs from the imagination of men, so does the determination that science refutes God’s existence takes on an equally Athenian origin. With the ubiquity of creation stories and its positing of history, it is understandable why one would use science to counter the claims of religion. But the claims of religion are not God, not entirely anyway. Certainly, science is useful to us in that childish absurdities like a young earth model, Noah’s ark, the resurrection, et al. can be utterly dismissed as actual occurrences and taken the imaginative stories they are rather resolutely. Science, therefore, becomes a handy tool against the babbling constructs of religion’s various aspects. But, reliance on one tool has become all too common. It gives ammunition to the believers in God in adjusting their arguments. Where science has a (false) sense of rigidity because its most pure standards disallow more than allow, religion has a ridiculous flexibility which renders it inscrutably amoeba-like. Any attempt to pin it down will slip it away smiling. No consensus in God-belief is necessary, where consensus and proofs are absolutely needed in science.

Not in the pejorative sense is belief in God irrational. It is irrational in that no standards are given into what such a belief means. And, of course, rationality can be seen as limited in its scope of comprehension when one posits God. So what ground does my irreligious conviction stand? Well, and this is where people’s satisfactions have to be disconsidered, it has no ground, no basis of rational inquiry beyond my own beliefs. I’m not writing this as a treatise in which to dissuade others of their belief in fictive creators, but as an outline into why the onus is not on the irreligious to provide satisfactory answers for the religiously minded. I am not held to any burden of proof because I have not posited anything more than “I do not believe in God”. It’s circularity is its own proof, and anyone’s assertion against it is an unreasonable doubt. Arguing against such would be beyond absurd, equally as absurd as arguing against another’s conviction in the opposite belief.

Of course, those who hold science as the beacon guiding the path to an enlightened irreligiosity may object. “It is not personal convictions that we are arguing. It is the existence and probability of a creator.” Certainly, this is granted and commended. There is a nobility in exasperatingly fighting the stubborn to whom no standards are necessary (this is only a semi-facetious statement). But let’s not be reluctant to fit the argument to our own needs. God and religion is an unnecessary, though intriguing, byproduct of the imagination. To us, the prospect of God diminishes the wonders and joys and pains of existence. A creator is only an exacerbating dilemma of our individuality, a paralyzing force that delimits achievement and increases separation. It’s a mechanism in which to shirk the everyday for the unattainably hopeful. It’s an alibi as useful as a dream in a court case. It’s a justification to forgo analysis and accept dogma. It’s a problematic illusion of convenience. One does not need God to excuse one’s good deeds, but God and religion have been so required to justify atrocity. In fact, to be stubbornly rigorous, no reason should be necessitated in my irreligiosness.

A problem arises, however, because we are conditioned into acceptance that the so-called Three Big Questions are of the utmost supremacy to all others. We tend to veer toward the patently absurd and obviously fictitious because it easily rests these supposedly troubling questions:
1. Where did we come from?
2. What is our purpose in life?
3. What happens after we die?
Religion can provide some pretty pat answers - though thankfully there is a long tradition of theology that doesn’t treat them with the flippancy of a youth-group minister or televangelist - and so it becomes obvious why so many are willing to accept the strangeness of deities. In no way do I want to suggest that these questions are a waste of time. Some have devoted their lives to unraveling for themselves, and for the dissemination to others, these questions in rather profound and beautiful, if not perplexing and interesting, ways. Many are theologians or theological, like the great Medieval devotional writers: the anonymous author of The Cloud of Unknowing, Hildegard of Bingen, Dante, etc. Their futility of purpose does not diminish their intellectually stimulating, existentially informative and wonderfully imaginative works. We hold them to the highest esteem because of their worldly greatness, not their insight into fictitious beings (just like we esteem Chaucer for his poetic/historical contribution and not as an exemplary stratification of society). Let it suffice, though, that there are those of us who view such intellectual pursuits as labyrinthine journeys that lead utterly nowhere. We are no less analytical, imaginative or creatively endowed; nor are we hopelessly mired in some Sartrean disposition. No, it is more that these Big Questions reek more of Big Distractions. More often than not they’re proclaimed as philosophical, yet wrapped unknowingly in the rags of sophistry.

The inscrutability of existence is just that, inscrutable. But the facets of existence are more than worthy of our attention - they demand it. Does one really require a wherefore and why to live meaningfully, to be charitable and civilized? Perhaps I might be deaf to the overall resounding Yes to that question. Perhaps I am an outlier too entrenched in materialism to simply “get” the yearning for answers and origination theories. But that strikes me as incredibly unlikely. We interact in too many ways to rely on ultimate meaning. Let’s forgo relying on science and religion as anything more than they are. Their generative and destructive contributions to our common history are unfathomably huge; their interpretation mutable and transformative over time. One cannot answer the other because the questions are incompatible.

Can I get a "You betcha"?

The last thing I want is to turn this blog into a political outlet. The proliferation of poli-opinion is exactly why I hate getting on the internet. It's called Books, Basketball and Booty, not Policy, Pundits and Pussy. But this bubbling over of Sarah "I make W. look savvy and articulate" Palin is too infuriating. Her polemical proselytizing of non-ideas frustrates many to no end, but are very indicative of a vast swath of this country's angry, misinformed voters.

Apparently, her new "dis" of the Ominous Other is "law-professor-presidents." Of course this is definitively not an insult. In anyone's estimation it's a magnificent achievement. But not so to those self-congratulatory twits who see themselves as popu-lites, the creme-de-la-creme of Americanism. Their mistrust of those with a command of complex thought, engaging in complex policy would seem to suggest that Joe-the-fucker-next-door could execute as the Chief Executive with grand acumen. "Average" Americans swell with this ego-inflating idea. But it's not true, and those propagating that myth are cynical enough to encourage while having long before dismissed it completely. It's touchy-feely bullshit we've come to expect from our protectorate class. It's fun to sideline squawk how confusing national and international policy is, but is it really helpful at all to do by making millions of teary-eyed optimistic, not because of what is actually being accomplished, but because they imagine themselves dressing up as John Wayne President for a day? Of course, they do proclaim the Proustian benefits of tea-parties.

Being elite is not an insult. It wasn't in 1999, but one wouldn't realize that by the ever more incoherent madness of neo-McCarthyists. If you're so hell-bent that we should be governed by the people who share your social make-up why listen to New York Times best selling authors, pocket-lined television hosts, former CEOs? Certainly, (a very few) politicians rise from the middle class to become national figures that seems inspiring, but once there they become the elite. Sarah Palin and George Bush are no more down-home than the Ivy-leagued Obama. Less so, if anything (Bush takes the cake here: his family could topple the Kennedys in dynastic wealth and influence, not to mention Yale and Harvard, owning a MLB team and being CEO and Governor of the second largest state). The great American candidate's apparent success depends on a ratio of accent and how that accent flattens the meaning of their words.

Logical disconnect: These popu-lites rile up (or should I write, shore up) discontent over the bail-out package and increased spending while in a deficit. Admittedly, there's much to be criticized about these issues. A thoughtful dissection of the policies is very much needed. But to dismiss them entirely on the basis that it favors irresponsible corporations over responsible citizens is goddamn absurd. Did corporations practice predatory lending? Yes. But who took out the loans and credit cards they couldn't afford? Oh, that belt-tightening every-family who claims by Nielson power the innate comprehension of fiscal responsibility. Am I blaming the victim? Only as much as the victim is Bank of America, et al, and Tea-bagging-Joe-blow. Of course, this delusion is encouraged by the comfortable, rich, accountant-hiring popu-lites like Glen Beck, Sean Hannity, Rush Libaugh, etc. Anger leads to bad decisions, bad decisions that increase these people's worth, which leads to more anger. The cyclically stupid.

Sometimes I wish we'd truly export democracy, but export it the way we export our manufacturing labor. Of course I don't really want that to happen. I guess I don't mind the flaming flaggots flapping away their uninteresting rhapsodies of freedom and mish-mash as long as Obama's at the helm. It reminds me why I truly admire only one branch of government: the judicial. Yeah, yeah, say what you will about specific case outcomes (especially the recent decision to practically grant personhood to large corporations), but there's something wonderful about a group of top minds whose job it is to dissect, debate, spend long hours mulling over interpretation and semantics, parse heavily layered minutiae, and deliberate for hours at a time to come to a conclusion. I love that. It's also my favorite when it takes power away from those who would perpetuate prejudices and fears to make even more ignorant this country. They can overrule an unjust law even if 90% of the population raves about it.

Anyhow, I'd like to end with a message down-to-earth-Palin will understand, articulated in a manner that's hers: Go fuck ya-self.

P.S. My least favorite branch? The legislative. These ego-maniacal sociopaths spew "talking points" and glad-hand the idiocy all while finding deceitful ways of screwing their constituents. They're the would be movie-stars who lack the good looks, and have too much charisma and acting capability for Hollywood.

Like a patent chronometer

Once again, I've found myself reading Moby-Dick (a book not a few friends have been subjected to a drunken rant or two of mine). I love it's wildly disparate tone. One chapter (The Advocate) will be written in the most frantic, well, advocation of Ishmael's profession. The next (The Postscript) a patently ridiculous insistence on the greatness of whaling. These are followed by the first Knights and Squires chapter, a serious, though rather melodramatic, view on human principle, courage and work ethic. Great novels, at least of this period (though certainly many modern and contemporary ones can be included), tend to maintain a certain mood, a methodical rendering of the prose to keep an "even keel" (I won't inundate this blog with nautical terms, I promise). Melville's masterpiece, however, deliberately juxtaposes styles, almost developing the collage novel. KJV Bible and Shakespearean techniques and vocabularies are butted against sailorspeak, vernacular, yellow journalism, Presbyterian ethics, and American exceptionalism among other styles. It is over-written, over-wrought, proclamatory and a touch naive. That's why it's so wonderful.

That said, I was wondering how I could incorporate two of my favorite things into one blog entry. Basketball is my favorite sport (really, the only sport I truly love). I will watch the Super Bowl this week, but more as an excuse to hang out with friends, get drunk on Sunday morning, and eat awesomely bad food. So, it hit me about ten minutes ago to find analogues in the NBA with characters in the novel. I haven't given it much thought, so I may amend my choices at a later date. (I'm also about a quarter way through the book.) Are these perfect examples? No, but really, is that possible? So, here begins the list.

Starbuck: Brandon Roy "Uncommonly conscientious" and with a "ruggedness of nature" both Starbuck and Brandon have the internal, analytic skills to see situations in intelligent ways. Though Roy is first mate to no one, he facilitates on-court like few others. Would he entertain thoughts of mutiny if placed under the leadership of an Ahab? Perhaps not. Both dominate quietly and command respect with sheer ability. They are the guys who you want in crunch time to get done what needs to be. Bonus: Roy is a Washington native, Washington being home to that ubiquitous coffee chain named after Melville's creation. 

Stubb: Shaq Who else can philosophize so jovially? And now that he's back in championship contention, he really does seem like a second-mate (which is not at all an insult). His success seems to depend on teams that afford him great leaders: Penny Hardaway, Kobe, D-Wade and now LeBron; yet still maintaining a position of authoritative dominance and oversight. They preside over their whaleboat/team "as if the most deadly encounter were but a dinner, and the crew his invited guests." 

Flask: Rasheed Wallace In this case refs become the whales in this metaphor. "[...] very pugnacious concerning whales, who somehow seemed to think that the great Leviathans had personally and hereditarily affronted him; and therefore it was a point of personal honor with him, to destroy them whenever encountered." Refs love to t-up 'Sheed, but, as Free Darko pointed out last year, his stats go up after his first technical.   

Queequeg: ? Based on tattoos, this could be tied between Birdman and K-Mart. Or, for affable, efficient, stylish foreigner, Dirk Nowitzki, Rudy Fernandez, Nicolas Batum or Pau Gasol. Also, this could be a seemingly offensive categorization. 

Pip: Courtney Lee I feel bad for Lee. Essentially left out to see when traded to the Nets after a great post-season for the Eastern Conference champions. Hopefully next year he gets traded back to a contender. 

Ishmael: ? Ron Artest  Ron-Ron's a bit of an orphan (from one team to the next), a bit of a nut, rather perplexing but skilled enough to command (or demand) attention. 

Ahab: Kobe Bryant Now who didn't see this coming? Both are monomaniacal, fierce individuals demanding those below them absolute commitment. If one makes the analogy that Moby-Dick is a championship, then Kobe's killed that whale four times. But that seems rather unlikely. No, his whale is bigger than the rings he has: it's the rings he won't have that drive him to an almost insane level of play. And that's not simply losing to the Celtics. No, his is a will to set bigger and bigger goals before him, goals that may, eventually, be his downfall unless he takes a cue from Jordan and retire on top (and to dismiss that other cue from Jordan and come back a third time).