Have at it, homies.
Have at it, homies.
Is This about Me or You?
Imagine this conversation:
Woman 1: So, anyway, at the end of the argument I just told my husband I thought he was wrong.
Woman 2: I can’t believe you said that. Aren’t you afraid he’ll hit you?
When I put myself in Woman 1’s place, I have two immediate thoughts:
1. Not in a million years would I be afraid my husband would strike me for any reason short of his own self-defense if I went violently insane.
2. How long was Woman 2 abused? Is she still being abused?
I wouldn’t expect Woman 2’s comment from a woman who has no history of abuse whatsoever. I suppose I could imagine a situation where someone was under a mistaken impression I was being abused, and was concerned for my safety? But as a general rule, that question would not be raised in seriousness by a woman who is not or has not been in a situation where she’s been battered.
The question, while aimed at Woman 1, actually speaks volumes about Woman 2, and tells us nothing at all about Woman 1.
Language, questions and comments aimed at others actually carry within them information about those who are speaking. Even the most innocent language does this. If I see a friend making a Lasagna, and I see her using cottage cheese, and I ask “Oh, you don’t use Ricotta?” I’ve just said, “I don’t use cottage cheese when I make Lasagna, I use Ricotta.” We spend our conversational time telling people all about ourselves, often without even realizing we’re doing it.
What Pascal’s Wager Tells Me about You
When we think of Pascal’s Wager, we generally think in brief of someone asking “What if you’re wrong?” The stakes generally are “something bad” if you’re wrong (that you’re risking), and either gaining reward or simply avoiding the “bad” if you’re right.
The Wager itself has a host of problems. But that’s not what I’m concerned with here. What concerns me here is what the Wager tells me about the person who puts it forward. When people ask, “What if you’re wrong?,” what are they telling me about themselves? What I hear when they ask this, is purely heartbreaking. And a letter writer recently put it in a way that evoked honest pity from me. Clearly directed to Matt, he asked:
I have watched many of your you tube videos, and from what I gather, you are a very intelligent man and you seem well educated.
But I wanted to ask you a question, just a simple question, perhaps a question that I myself toil with from time to time.
Q: “when the day is done, and you are sitting alone, or lying in bed, do you ever question your decision to be an atheist, are you ever scared at times, do you ever think that you might be wrong or fear what may or may not happen to you when you die”
Now, this question has no real direction, I just wanted to know if you were like so many others including myself, who at the end of the day either have a longing for an answer or experience doubts or concerns about the decision(s) you’ve made.
While he states the question has “no real direction,” it does, like all communication, carry a message and more of a message than what is merely being asked. It carries that message about the speaker, which I’m describing.
Matt submitted back a very thorough and well-thought-out reply. However, I kept thinking of this letter after I’d deleted it, and this morning I sent by a separate reply myself to the writer:
I know this was directed at Matt, and he answered it quite thoroughly. But I would like to add something. There are a number of people who have reported being horribly tortured at the hands of malevolent alien abductors. I don’t believe these people’s stories are true. They could easily ask me the same question:
Don’t you ever worry about being abducted yourself? What if you’re wrong?
Certainly if I’m wrong, I could also be abducted and tortured, but I can promise you I don’t lose an ounce of sleep on it. I don’t expend a moment’s concern over being a victim of such an event. And I’m going out on a limb to wager that (1) you’ve heard these stories I’m describing and (2) you don’t worry about being abducted by malevolent aliens any more than I do.
If I’m correct, then you have just experienced what I experience with regard to fear of being wrong about god. It’s the indoctrinated believer who fears and who thinks that fear must plague others who weren’t indoctrinated with that same fear. Just as it’s the “alien abductee” who can’t understand why I don’t seem concerned about what these aliens are doing not others who don’t believe in alien abduction; it’s the person either still in, or still suffering from the side effects of, indoctrination who can’t fathom life without that fear, which was most often burned into their heads as defenseless children. It’s put there as a mechanism to stop people questioning: “Even if you stop believing…you’ll be plagued by fear and doubt the rest of your life…WHAT IF YOU’RE WRONG?!” But the truth is, as Matt pointed out, and as I provided an example, if you don’t believe, then you don’t believe in the consequence either. And it’s just very hard to fear that which you do not believe exists.
This is why I consider religious indoctrination of children to be abusive. It scars people and they carry that fear of questioning well into adulthood far too often. Nobody should be made to fear asking questions, doubting, or not believing. Free and independent inquiry should be the basis for any sound ideology. Any ideology that puts mechanisms in place to impede free and independent inquiry such as severe and exaggerated mental fear of such investigation, should be viewed very skeptically. After all, what sort of “true” ideology incorporates an avoidance of examination?
And I suppose that’s all I had to say about it?
The rabble are banging away at Martin’s post with torches and pitchforks, demanding to know: when, oh when will there be a new non-guerilla episode?
Wonder no more! The first new “official” Non-Prophets Radio will air LIVE this Saturday, October 23. It will feature Matt, Denis, and me… and if all goes according to plan, a special phone-in mystery guest. (I’ve been known to make these claims before and look foolish later, so apologies in advance if the guest can’t make it. Forget I ever said anything! What guest?)
Well, here it is at last, gang. Probably the last of the guerilla episodes, as the regular series is set to resume, I do believe, this coming weekend!
Gia Grillo, Chris Conner and I reteam, and end up spending a lot of this episode wagging our fingers at some of our fellow heathens, expressing our dismay at the way some people in the atheist camp got caught up in the wave of Muslim-bashing that arose around the Park51 controversy. While none of us likes Islam, naturally, most of the rhetoric was simple hate speech from the Fox News wingnut camp that grossly generalized all Muslims, even those who are peaceful and loyal U.S. citizens, under the “terrorist” banner. That some atheists actually fell into that trap of emotion-clouded unreason is something we hate to see.
Then we smack around Phil Plait a bit for his “Don’t Be a Dick” speech, and talk about accommodationism vs. confrontationalism.
Not to be a whiner, but holy hell balls this one was tough to edit. But I think the mix is superior to 9.6, even though our different mics and the fact we were basically recording a three-way Skype call means it still isn’t audiophile material by any means. (I apologize for my harsh S’s.) I hope you all enjoy it, and I’m off for a nap. If you’d rather wait for the iTunes feed, Matt tells me he’ll do the necessary admin stuff to get it up on the feed either tonight or tomorrow, so you won’t have to wait days and days like last time. And if you want art for your iPod, download the above graphic and stick it in yourself. With 9.6 Russell told me I inadvertently changed the art for the whole feed by embedding it in the episode beforehand. Durp.
Consider the comments to be an open thread on the episode.
“Hi name is not important. I have a comment. I saw your videos on youtube. I don’t like your attacks on the christian faith. I think your program is full of shit. The Atheist Experience just what the hell is that means. As for prove, you don’t need prove to believe or haven’t you figured that out. Let me tell you something. Atheist is the devils work. So go ahead bad mouth god. Your community will be blowen up as long with you garbage or what ever happens. The christian faith is not to brain wash people. That’s just you people spreading lies. Your community is dedicated to nothing and that how it’s going to be.
Fortunately, messages like this aren’t all that common. We obviously don’t think this represents the bulk of religious thought…but it does demonstrate the results of insular indoctrination and poor education. While this sort of thinking isn’t the norm, it’s not yet completely relegated to the cast-of-“Deliverance”-minority…but someday, it will be.
Here’s the open thread for tonight’s show – have at it!
Here’s a recap of some of the conspiracy theories we’ve received by email in the last year or so. I’ve omitted names and summarized the claims to protect the anonymity of the authors. I see no need to feed anyone’s persecution complex.
Most of the people who write to us are pretty entrenched in their beliefs and can’t be persuaded that their pet theory has no merit. The guy with the alternate cosmological model has invested about 20 years of his life in his theory, but he’s never gotten around to getting that advanced degree in physics that would actually qualify him to do this kind of research. Why? Obviously, he’d learn enough to know what utter nonsense his theory is.
The 9-11 truthers are often a special case of conspiracy theorist. This is because many of them were convinced by evidence that was deliberately distorted or that was interpreted for them by people who simply lacked the qualifications to do so. Once presented with unadulterated evidence, it seems that many are willing to abandon their conspiracy beliefs and accept the conclusion that a bunch of religious zealots really did fly some planes into buildings on 9/11/01.
For more information on the self-justification that drives conspiracy theorists, as well as other a lot of other ways we deceive ourselves, I recommend a book by Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson called “Mistakes Were Made (but not by me)”.
Parting shot – in response to the call from Cesar this evening – if you’re interested in what’s been done in the field of abiogenesis since the Miller-Urey experiments, take a look at the book “Genesis” by Robert M. Hazen. It’s an excellent survey of the kinds of research going on and the results of that research, written by a scientist who does that research.
*As I noted during the show, colloidal silver does have antimicrobial properties when applied topically. It does not have similar properties when ingested, which is a good thing. If it did, it would kill your normal intestinal flora and leave you open to colonization by something really nasty – like C. difficile. Oral ingestion of colloidal silver can also cause a condition known as argyria, so unless you want to look like a Smurf, you should probably avoid drinking it.
“As Deepak Chopra taught us, quantum physics means anything can happen at any time for no reason.”
— Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth
My fiancee and I watched What the Bleep Do We Know? Why? Because it was there. By reputation it is a terrible new-age movie that claims to be about science. The film makers attempt to explain quantum mechanics and neurochemistry, in the service of a general squishy feel-good message similar to “The Secret” implying that if you send positive energy to the universe, good things will happen to you.
Some of the movie kind of, sort of, almost conveys some important ideas of science successfully. They describe the double slit experiment; they take a stab at chaos theory, in which small random interactions affect macroscopic objects. They also, unfortunately, attempt to have a plot. I want to focus in on that, since it doesn’t seem to be discussed in many reviews.
Early in the movie they introduce a lady who is a deaf magazine photographer. She is portrayed as a severe grouch, so I pegged what this character was for right away. “Aha,” I said. “I’ll bet this character is going to be initially skeptical of whatever claims the movie is trying to make, and then she will be won over in the end.”
It’s a lazy technique that yields a required character in many styles of evangelistic tract: the converted skeptic proxy. It operates under the same principle as the old “I used to be an atheist” claim. The message is: “This character is you, skeptic. She has been where you’ve been, and she was convinced. If you are reasonable like her, you will be convinced too.”
I say it’s a lazy technique because the writers are not attempting to win you over through the legitimate strength of their arguments; instead, they want to lower your defenses by getting you to identify with their position. Last week on the show I mentioned that it’s like a car salesman telling you “I’ve driven every car, and this one’s the best.” Oh, okay! No need for me to do my own comparison shopping then. This salesman seems like a reasonable and completely unbiased chap. (Analogy gratefully borrowed from Slacktivist — Thanks, Fred!)
So yes, this lady does not believe in quantum mechanics or love or happiness, and sure enough, her life suffers for it. And when I say “suffers” I mean she appears to be experiencing a buffet table’s worth of unintentionally hilarious mental disorders. She screams “I hate you!!!” at herself in the mirror. She suffers Vietnam-like flashbacks to her past bad relationship when a guy starts coming on to her. Later, while drunk, she starts to hallucinate her mental hangups as tiny computer animated blobby monsters. You see, reasonable people don’t disagree with the movie’s thesis. Only sad, sad individuals with massive emotional baggage. You aren’t that kind of person, are you? I sure hope not! Now, about that car I’d like to sell you…
The first sign that this movie was going to infuriate me came when one of the Very Serious Narrators explained with a straight face how the minds of Native Americans operated when the Europeans arrived to conquer them. It turns out that they couldn’t see the ships coming. I don’t mean they were distracted and didn’t happen to notice them. In a dramatic reenactment, the tribe’s shaman was staring directly at the approaching ships, and he literally could not see anything. You see, explains the Very Serious Narrator, these massive ships were so far outside the normal day to day experience for these natives, that their minds refused to process them. Eventually, the shaman points out the ripples on the water, and as everyone tries to figure out what’s causing them, POOF — suddenly there is the ship, plainly visible to all, thanks to the magic of camera tricks.
This is, of course, straight out of Douglas Adams.
“Can you see,” said Ford patiently, “the SEP?”
“I thought you said that was somebody else’s problem.”
Arthur nodded slowly, carefully and with an air of immense stupidity.
“And I want to know,” said Ford, “if you can see it.”
“What,” said Arthur, “does it look like?”
“Well, how should I know, you fool?” shouted Ford. “If you can see it, you tell me.”
Arthur experienced that dull throbbing sensation just behind the temples which was a hallmark of so many of his conversations with Ford. His brain lurked like a frightened puppy in its kennel. Ford took him by the arm.
“An SEP,” he said, “is something that we can’t see, or don’t see, or our brain doesn’t let us see, because we think that it’s somebody else’s problem. That’s what SEP means. Somebody Else’s Problem. The brain just edits it out, it’s like a blind spot. If you look at it directly you won’t see it unless you know precisely what it is. Your only hope is to catch it by surprise out of the corner of your eye.”
There is, of course, a subtle difference between that scene and this one: Douglas Adams was deliberately writing comedy.
So naturally, while we were heckling this movie, the question that immediately came to mind was: “How The Bleep™ do they know that?” I mean, it’s not like you can go back and question the natives about their experiences. They didn’t leave a lot of written material about it either; and even if they did, how would you really know that the ships were actually invisible to them, and the shaman wasn’t just covering his ass out of embarrassment?
This is a place where we can ask the film makers, because the question is right there on the official What The Bleep™ web site. You’re going to think I’m making this up but I’m not, so prepare to be astounded.
My mother is stuck on the question of where the information on Columbus and the Native Americans came from. She can’t seem to get past the part where the shaman ‘showed’ them the ships, and then they were able to see them. Where did this story come from?
[Good question, exactly what I was thinking. Thanks, Amy!]The story of the Native American’s inability to see the clipper ships from Europe has two aspects to it: physiological and anecdotal.
[Ummm… evasive. Bad start.]Any journalist is familiar with the phenomenon of asking three different people to relate the “facts” at an accident scene, only to receive three different versions of the “facts.”…
[Yeah, people have bad memories. So… you’re saying that the cars are invisible to some of them? Let’s skip past this, seems pretty empty.]
Pattern recognition depends on familiarity. An example of this is experiments done by Colin Blakemore and G.F. Cooper in the 1960s…
[Blah, blah, blah, not answering the question. Skipping…]
I have personally experienced this
as a truth, raising two wolves from 6 week-old pups. Frankly, I thought the male had brain damage. For months he never looked at me directly…
[WHAT THE BLEEP™ HAS ANY OF THIS GOT TO DO WITH HOW YOU KNEW ABOUT THE INDIANS???]
Now for the more anecdotal origins of the story,
[Oh good, FINALLY they’re going to answer the damn question.]
which Candace Pert refers to as “A wonderful story I believe is true…”
Co-writer and producer Betsy Chasse says, “Other scientists related the same story to us.” And, apparently, there are references to the tale in an historical document made by an early missionary in the South Americas. This document, unfortunately, has not yet been found.
So now you know as much as we do about the origins of the tale!
[Are you bleeping kidding me?]
So that’s it, right there, in their own words. The story is made up. They have a flimsy tale, told twelfth hand, and they have no source for it whatsoever. But they decided to treat it as fact in the movie in service of their point.
Elsewhere in the movie, they use more Very Serious Narrators to great effect, in one case citing the works of one Dr. Masaru Emoto, whose experiments in the exciting field of writing words on glasses of water have revealed that water can read and respond to English phrases by forming crystals that are “beautiful” or “ugly,” depending on the sentiment behind the words. This is explained via an intellectual sounding museum tour guide, while soft classical music plays. That’s how you know it’s gotta be true.
In case you haven’t got the point, someone bonks you over the head with it: “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? If thoughts can do that to water, imagine what they can do to us.” And then that phrase returns through echoey aural flashbacks about five more times throughout the movie, as our deaf photographer skeptic proxy is sitting around wallowing in her own inadequacy and thinking about what a shallow, emotionless bitch she’s been.
One of the worst scientific atrocities the movie commits is constantly confusing “subatomic particles” with “mental processes.” Heck, they both involve little tiny things, and all little tiny things are the basically same, right? So they’ll say something true (“The state of an electron changes when you observe it!”) and something else true but completely unrelated (“Your brain is made of neurons!”) and then they’ll draw a nonsensical parallel from it, sounding superficially plausible but abandoning any pretense of anything you could actually research or falsify (“Therefore, if you imagine something existing, on some level it really does exist!”)
The woman’s story has a happy ending, of course: She scribbles little hearts all over her body with a sharpie, causing an instant attitude adjustment. People who knew her when she was one of those horrible skeptics come away reeling in shock because she was nice to them for a change. Or perhaps, based on her newly acquired facial expression of pure bliss, she is just intensely stoned.
The Very Serious People who explain things throughout the movie are a mish-mash of folks who are often bearded and are never identified until the credits are rolling. Some of them appear to be actual experts in real scientific fields, which explains why the movie occasionally manages to briefly make sense before cutting away from those people. Of course, the most sensible of the scientists is David Albert, who publicly disassociated himself from the film, saying:
“I am, indeed, profoundly unsympathetic to attempts at linking quantum mechanics with consciousness. Moreover, I explained all that, at great length, on camera, to the producers of the film …Had I known that I would have been so radically misrepresented in the movie, I would certainly not have agreed to be filmed.”
And then, of course, there’s Ramtha.
Apparently this is common knowledge among aficionados of crackpottery, but I honestly had no idea that there was a sixty-something year old middle American lady who, since the late seventies, has been going around claiming to channel a 35,000 year old warrior from Atlantis. I found this out on the internet in between my first and second sittings (what, you think I could watch this drivel in one go??). Before I knew who she was, all I could think about her was: “Who is this ridiculous lady and why are they expecting me to take the stuff that’s coming out of her mouth seriously?” After I learned more about her, my reaction was more like “OH GOD, OH GOD, THAT STUPID ACCENT, MAKE IT STOP.” I guess my brain filtered out the crummy accent that she was putting on before, because it was outside of my normal experience and so I could not hear it. (“I thought you said that was somebody else’s problem!”)
Anyway, like Stephen Colbert, apparently Ramtha only speaks to the cameras “in character,” which is why she is credited at the last minute, not as “JZ Knight,” but as: “Ramtha, Master Teacher – Ramtha School of Enlightenment. Channeled by JZ Knight”. Woohoo! Who needs scientific credibility when you have a Master Teacher at your disposal?
It was a terrible, terrible movie. Not terrible like a hilarious Mystery Science Theater target. Terrible like “If you locked prisoners in a room and forced them to watch this movie, you would be violating the ‘cruel and unusual’ clause.”
Michael Ochoa posted a link to a video and asked me to debunk it. Normally, I’d skip requests like this, as I have too much on my plate…but sometimes I get in a mood and just go for it. Here’s the first (and only draft) of a response to the video:
“P1 – In order to accept that our rational faculties are reliable, initial sensory experiences of the world must be accepted until proven incorrect. In other words, these experiences must be considered default positions.“
This might be true for infants, who lack the wealth of knowledge with which to assess and evaluate the brains interpretation of sensory input, but it is not necessarily true for adults who are cognizant of the ability of our brains to misinterpret sensory data and who have a wealth of comparative experience with which to assess initial interpretations.
For example, we understand that what we see (or, more accurately, think we see) is not always accurate and that our initial assessment of other sensory data ultimately proves incorrect. Realizing this, we are only acting rationally if we tentatively proportion our belief to the quality and quantity of evidence.
In his example about a mirage, he has no reason to question the mirage until he’s given evidence that it might be false. That’s true and it’s the infant position. However, the instant one becomes aware that one can be mistaken, both in perception and in inferences based on those perceptions one is no longer rationally justified in accepting all initial perceptions at face value.
Premise 1, in simplest terms, is simply an assertion that we are justified in accepting our first impressions until they are proven wrong. This is demonstrably false and intellectually childish. Anyone who has ever witnessed a conjurer’s trick understands that the mental image their brain has compiled from the sensory data simply does not map to reality. The same is true for any number or other examples where we can understand that the brain simply doesn’t have enough information to accurately perceive events.
Only someone convinced that they could never be mistaken could hold this sort of view and remain intellectually honest. The rest of us should try to think like grown-ups and reserve belief for those things which are sufficiently supported by evidence (unless, of course, we don’t care whether or not our beliefs are true).
Premise 1 is simply a denial of rational skepticism (he even uses the ‘rigid skepticism’ dilemma to underscore this – but ignores the truth about rational skepticism) and is a gross oversimplification for the purposes of propping up the rest of the argument. Rational skepticism holds that acceptance of claims be apportioned to the evidence, whereas this premise ignores the complexities involved in rationally determining if a belief is justified and instead simply attempts to shift the burden of proof by proclaiming that one is justified in accepting one’s first impressions until they are proven wrong.
“P2 – The appearance of purpose, intention and order (Design) in the Universe is an initially sensed experience.“
No, it isn’t. It is an inference that the brain makes by comparing the internal model of the sensed experienced to other things that the brain already holds to be true. It is, the conclusion of an argument by analogy – and it’s one that we understand may be flawed. It’s also one that can be tested by scientific exploration.
We’ve done this and identified many instances where one may perceive intelligent, purposeful design where no such inference is justified.
Attempting to call one’s inference of design “initially sensed experience” is a rather clumsy attempt to fabricate a predicate link to Premise 1.
“P3 – Hence, the belief in a designed universe, which automatically infers a designer, is in fact the default position until proven otherwise.“
This directly follows from the first two premises and (given the flaws in the first two) it is unsound. (Nullifying the rest of the argument…)
The fact that he thinks this is where he’ll get the most objections is rather silly. It is only when he asserts that the designer is an intentional, intelligent agent that he runs into trouble, but he doesn’t do that until P4. As this stands, it is a direct conclusion from the first two premises… hence, the “hence”.
“P4 – The concept of God (a purposeful, intelligent agent outside the universe that cannot be detected by our senses) is the most tenable explanation for the identity of this designer.“
There’s no need to continue until the first premises are fixed, but I’d like to point out how really bad this argument is, so we’ll keep going.
Premise 4 defines a particular god-concept and asserts – without demonstration – that this particular god-concept is the best explanation. Without a demonstration, this premise can simply be rejected.
Additionally, the definition given isn’t simply a theistic proposition. It goes further and without justification. A theistic god need not be “outside the universe” or undetectable and, indeed, many would hold that their god is detectable and operating within the universe.
And here, too, we run into another bit of cognitive dissonance in his argument: outside the universe.
By what right can anyone invoke a claim that any such thing exists? Do we have any direct experience of ‘outside the universe’? Do we have appearance of this? Do we have any initial sensory experience of this? By what right can people assert ‘outside the universe’ or ‘before time’?
“C – Hence, Theism is the default position until proven otherwise.“
This entire argument essentially reads as:
1. I’m justified in believing whatever my first perception is, until proven wrong.
2. My first perception is to infer design.
3. I am justified in believing the universe is designed until you prove me wrong.
4. I’m convinced that the best explanation for the design I perceive is God X.
C. Therefore, belief in God X is justified until proved wrong.
This argument is dishonest at virtually every point and it is nothing more than a denial of rational skepticism and a blatant shifting of the burden of proof. This isn’t fundamentally different than the obstinate theist who claims “You can’t prove me wrong!” – and thus it fails to all of the objections we would launch at that simplified argument.
The inability to disprove something doesn’t make it a justified default position. You can’t disprove the claim that there are clones of every one of us living on a planet in the Andromeda galaxy – but that doesn’t mean that we’re justified in accepting it as the default position.
It is trivial to demonstrate that our initial perceptions are often mistaken and we have a pretty good understanding of why some people see the appearance of design – and why their inference of intelligent design in nature is unsupported, at best, and incorrect, at worst.
And even if we didn’t already understand how so much of this was wrong, sticking your fingers in your ears and demanding that someone prove you wrong is a childish argument – no matter how you try to dress it up.
Have at it. Personally, I was frustrated by the hour long format; there’s a constant tension while deciding whether to cut people off, and as you probably noticed, it didn’t get us any additional theist callers. The big studio, while neat, has spotty wireless, so only one person can be connected to the internet. Supposedly we now have four lines instead of three, but the fourth line was intentionally blocked during the show because we don’t trust it yet.
We did get the one theist caller at the end, but I had to hang up on him, not because of the insult, but because we had no time left. Can’t exactly blame this on the shorter time slot; it does happen even in the 90 minute show that people will not call until the very last minute.
Tracie did a good recap of her recent Intercessory Prayer post, and there were some decent questions. I had a good time.
So by now most of you who get around on these here intarweebs know that we’ve all been having fun with this on Facebook and elsewhere all day. There is some amusement value to be had that Insane Clown Posse, a group of shitty hip-hip poseurs, have thrown back the curtain to reveal that they are actually shitty Christian hip-hop poseurs, and it was all part of a cunning plan. Surely this takes both the realms of Christian pop culture and hip-hop culture to all new levels of metashittiness.
But what I have to thank frontman Violent J for (did the “J” stand for Jesus all this time — who knew?) is his instant creation of a new online meme, the likes of which 4chan would die for. It all comes from these hilarious lyrics to their song “Miracles”…
Fuckin’ magnets, how do they work?
And I don’t wanna talk to a scientist
Y’all motherfuckers lying and
getting me pissed.
Pure gold. “Fuckin’ [insert any noun you can think of], how do they work?” And atheists now have a new meme with which we can mock fundamentalists for pretty much the rest of our lives. “Fuckin’ flagellum, how does it work?” “Fuckin’ trees, how do they work?” See? This shit practically writes itself, yo.