“Spoilers…”

There’s only one thing that could get in the way
There’s only one reason I’d wait
There’s only one reason I’d take one more day
One reason alone to be late
I’m taping The Doctor, and not watching live,
I’m freeing myself from time’s tether—
Just twenty hours later, her plane will arrive,
And then we can watch it together.

Yeah… I’ll be away from all forms of technology while the rest of the world watches the Doctor Who special (Today or tomorrow, depending on where you are when you read this). Cuttledaughter is coming home for a visit (insert happy dance here), and we’ll be watching The Doctor together. Envy me. But NO SPOILERS!

Oh, and, for those who don’t know, there is a charity Christmas book of Cuttleverse (all proceeds to charity) and the second omnibus collection, “Ink” (proceeds go to me), and more (including freebies), all available here.

Ah… Memories…

I remember it so clearly
It’s as if it just occurred
I remember every image,
Every moment, every word;
I remember every instant,
Every story, brief or long,
I remember it forever…
But I just remember wrong.

I can tell you all that happened
On a day ten years ago—
I can tell you, I remember,
All my memories, I know—
I can summarize my knowledge,
All the lovely things I feel
All these things are in my memory
But it isn’t really real

It’s a perfect reproduction
It’s the best you’ll ever find
Every detail, trapped forever,
In the amber of my mind
All the flowing stream of consciousness
Is trapped in memory’s cup…
It’s astonishing to realize
Just how much of it’s made up

If your memory’s often fuzzy
Then you might have thought it best
To believe it, when they told you
Half your recollection’s guessed—
But for those with minds of crystal
Those whose memories are clear—
Why, the thought they might be faulty
Is a foreign thing to hear

But the truth, or so they tell us,
Isn’t difficult to see—
We will manufacture memories
And believe them, you and me
And our confidence is faulty,
Though so strongly we believe…
We build worlds upon our memories,
But our memories… deceive.

So, yeah, TIME (remember when they were a magazine?) has a neat (though incomplete, necessarily, given the scope of the subject and limitations of space) piece on false memories–even among those with “highly superior autobiographical memory (HSAM)” (in other words: not me). Seems the evidence shows (color me unsurprised) that even those with incredibly good memories are likely to misremember, and to systematically show biases that distort our memories. (Seriously, worth reading, and with a frankly stunning video which I cannot embed here.)

Even the best are flawed. Sounds very human. And it is. (Not that other species don’t display such flaws, but rather that it seems a characteristic of humanity that we do, despite our opinion of ourselves.) The evidence we send people to execution for… is flawed. As certain as we are, it ain’t necessarily so.

I remember being ready to testify in court as to a person’s guilt… only to find that I was looking at the wrong man. I remember being the person another thought was guilty (they were also wrong, I hasten to inform you). Memory is a nasty and crude tool, but we have been told that there are some among us who claim to have mastered it.

Seems likely they are wrong.

Natural Disasters And Acts Of God

God isn’t in the weather—in the wind and in the rain—
It’s a natural disaster, never God, which caused such pain
Oh, but God can be detected (so they patiently explain)
In the actions of the people on the ground

God would never cause a hurricane; the gospels make it clear
Though the “acts of God” are numerous in any given year
Cos the deeper truth is different from the way it might appear
Only good is where the Christian God is found

The destruction is incredible, but look—when you inspect,
There’s a lack of God’s Own Fingerprints; no clues you might detect
Not premeditated murder, just condemnable neglect
As the storm blew through the city’s frail façade

But the neighbors helping neighbors, that’s where God’s great power is
That’s the evidence of kindness; there’s the answer to the quiz;
All the work that’s done by people, all their credit’s clearly His
Thus, a hurricane is evidence of God

The New York Times presents a debate on “Natural Disasters or Acts of God?”, and once again it is hard to pin down what exactly God is and does. Some of the responses explore the term “acts of God” as if an actual “God” did not exist at all (really!), and note the use of the term in legal or psychological strategies (finding legal responsibility for loss, or asserting control in an uncontrollable world); others note the growing responsibility of human action, and suggest that recognizing our role instead of sloughing our blame off on God might be a more productive course. At least two of the responses do take the notion of a God seriously, and both (predictably) serve up a heap of special pleading. “What Revelation Reveals About Disasters” reminds us that the book that allows people to make specific predictions about what God hates, and what hour He’s going to call a stop to the whole shebang, is actually subject to quite a bit of interpretation:

Even among believers who take an apocalyptic worldview, the connection between God and disasters is complex and controversial.

But of course, my favorite asks us to “See God in the Response, Not the Disaster” (It is, of course, the muse for today’s verse):

The response of their fellow Filipinos (and the international community) has been heartening. They have helped in any way they can – raising funds for the victims, donating relief goods, offering counseling services to the survivors, transporting supplies to relief centers, etc. It is precisely in these acts of kindness where God is active in the lives of these people. God is made present by and in people who act compassionately toward the victims.

To believe that God is the cause of this catastrophe runs contrary to the God revealed by Jesus in the gospels. Creation continues to evolve, and as Saint Paul put it, the whole of creation is groaning in labor pains for the redemption of God. That there are natural calamities like Haiyan is part of the imperfect world we all live in. There is no need for a supernatural explanation for a naturally occurring event. To attribute these events to the will of God is to hold on to a tyrannical image of God – an image that Jesus challenged when he proclaimed the gospel to the marginalized of his society. It is about time that this image of God be laid to rest, so that we let the spirit of God bring new life to lives destroyed by Haiyan.

Wrath? That was the Old Testament God; he’s evolved since then. You could actually talk to Him back then, and see His power in palpable ways. Nowadays, we have to do all the work ourselves, then give Him credit.

Pretty soon there will be nothing for God to do at all.

Atheist Christmas Verses, Poems, Cards…

… and all proceeds going to charity.

Cover Image, “The War (Against Christmas) Diary”


So checking the site stats today, I note that it is the beginning of the season for searching google for “atheist christmas poem”, “atheist christmas cards”, “atheist xmas” and the like.

So I just thought I’d link again, to the only collection you need. Some 17 verses, 32 pages, and all proceeds going to charity (given that I won’t see the money for a couple of months after you buy, I am not naming a charity yet, but I will be transparent.)

And yes, if you didn’t see it, my second collection of verses is out–profits from this one are going to me. It, and all other options (including some free downloadable ones) may be found here.

Ink!

Ink

Checked my mail, and there it was!

Ink!

It’s the latest in technology, delivered to your door
Like the internet, but portable—why, who could ask for more?
All that Cuttlefishy goodness, but in one convenient book
What a marvelous invention; don’t you want to take a look?

You can take it to the mountains; you can take it to the park;
With a flashlight or a candle, you can read it in the dark!
It’s much lighter than a laptop, so transporting it’s a breeze
There’s no silicon or plastic—nope, it’s all recycled trees!

It’s an omnibus edition! It’s the Cuttlefish, condensed;
If your dog is acting funny, it’s because he must have sensed!
So you’d better buy an extra, when you’re buying one for you,
Cos the animals all know, it’s all the verse that’s fit to chew!

You could buy one for your Mother; you could buy one for your Pop
You could buy one for your Pastor just to hear him holler “stop!”
You could buy a bunch, and swap out all the hymnals in a church
So they never find “Amazing Grace” no matter where they search!

You could pull one on the Gideons, and place them in hotels
You could slip one to a Wiccan while she’s murmuring her spells
It’s the perfect gift for enemies—the perfect gift for friends!
It’s the gift that keeps on giving—oh, the messages it sends!

You can take one on an airplane; you can take one to the beach;
You could buy them by the dozen, so there’s always one in reach
It’s a conversation starter, if you bring it on a date,
And you’ll know if you’re compatible before it gets too late!

Be the first one on your block to place your order—click today,
And the elf and fairy printers will get on it right away!
As the product of a Cuttlefish, of course you’d call it “Ink”
Really, what more could you ask for?… Well, just one more thing… the link.

Oh, and the link to the preview.

Frogwhompers And Buffaloes

So… Greta is having fun with the Buffalo game. Which, frankly, is a cool game, but which I got to a bit late. My entry was “The New Vinton County Frogwhompers Marching, Singing, Strumming And Plucking Buffalo, Incorporated” (If you read Greta’s rules, you’ll understand).

The Frogwhompers (for short) were a “New-Grass” band–bluegrass, but with modern influences, from the Beatles to the Grateful Dead to The Monkees… I saw them in concert, and bought (and had autographed!) their album.

So… First off, the Frogwhompers– “Sweet Ohio”, by Jim McGaw (one of the Frogwhompers, so one of their original songs):

This was within a year of when I saw them, so these are the Frogwhompers I remember. Original songs, but also traditional and covers. I don’t know whether “Dark Hollow” counts as traditional or as cover, but the Grateful Dead did a version, and so did the Frogwhompers:

The Frogwhompers were fantastic… which musicians did you see locally, who could have (we won’t go into “should have”) made it big? I have another band I’ll save for the comments; I want to know yours.

Get Over It!

There are people doing something, which they seemingly enjoy,
But a different thing than I would like to do
I could celebrate our differences… or note how they annoy,
Demonstrating I’m superior to you

You’re a runner, with a logo on your car or on your shirt?
What a narcissistic way of showing off!
You’re a writer, with a column where you’re always slinging dirt?
Must be cushy, when you’re getting paid to scoff!

You’re a Catholic with a crucifix, a Baptist with a fish,
A new-ager proudly wearing “co-exist”
Superciliously asking for the local, vegan dish
Yes, I know the types—I’ve made a little list.

You’re a pompous ass “new atheist”, of which you’re very proud,
And you never waste a chance to bring it up
You proclaim it with your coffee (doesn’t have to be out loud)
With that scarlet “A” emblazoned on your cup

You support your local college, or your city, or your state,
You have t-shirts from the places you have been
It’s displaying your enjoyment that’s precisely what I hate
Cos I know you only do it to be seen

You’re just flogging your accomplishments—“ooh, look at what I’ve done!”
In a blatant move to make us all feel worse!
Yes, it’s simply inconceivable you do it just for fun…
It’s just showing off! (… he finished up… in verse.)

Ok, here’s the thing. I know that what I do is pretentious. But I either really enjoy doing it, or I am obsessively stuck unable to do otherwise (it varies by day). Fortunately, very few people (it has happened) tell me “yeah, ok, we get it, you can rhyme things, get over it.”

But Chad Stafko, in the Wall Street Journal, apparently just wrote a piece telling runners to just get over it.

There is one kind of bumper sticker I see almost daily here in my small Midwestern town: a small oval printed with “26.2” or “13.1.” In case you’re lucky enough not to know what these numbers represent, let me explain: They indicate that the driver or someone in the car has run a marathon (26.2 miles) or a half-marathon (13.1 miles).

There is only one reason running aficionados display the stickers. They want the rest of us to know about their long-distance feats. So let me be the first to offer my hearty congratulations. I’d even offer to give them a pat on the back—once they’re done doing it themselves.

What’s with this infatuation with running and the near-mandatory ritual of preening about it?

Honestly? I was thinking, at about that point, that the column was going to be a brilliant metaphor–how the completely innocuous act of running, and our wearing of running-specific gear, was how we *should* be treating the display of, say, religious or political affiliations. Nobody gets bent out of shape because someone else is wearing a shirt from a local 5K race, after all. Except, Stafko does get bent out of shape over such shirts, opining that they are only worn to make the wearer feel superior to all the non-runners (and, importantly, to make the non-runners feel inferior). Apparently (and I would love to be wrong), the Stafko piece is literally about running, runners’ apparel, and showing off. Pretty much all of the commenters take it that way–including one commenter with a pitch-perfect reply:

There is one kind display I see almost daily on the internet: a small white, rectangle printed with up to 500 words. In case you’re lucky enough not to know what these words represent, let me explain: They indicate that the poster or who posted it can write.

There is only one reason writers become published with a byline. They want the rest of us to know about their publications. So let me be the first to offer my hearty congratulations. I’d even offer to give them a pat on the back—once they’re done doing it themselves.

What’s with this infatuation with writing an opinion article and the near-mandatory ritual of preening about it?

(it continues, translating the entire piece perfectly.)

Runner’s World offers their own translation of Stafko’s piece, from Bizarre Angry Rant into English, which is fun. Predictably, the commenters there are once again too literal, and see the snarky translation as every bit as small-minded as the original piece. Oh, well.

I wish it had been a story on how we should treat the various divisions in our societies as trivially as we treat the t-shirts we wear… but then I remember the t-shirt ads I used to get during the political season, and I shudder for humanity’s future.

But if you want a T-shirt that really and truly allows you to feel superior to everybody who is not wearing one, I do have some suggestions.

At The Soup Kitchen…

We’re here to feed the hungry,
And the homeless, and the poor;
We want to help the helpless—
That’s what charity is for;
We’re giving aid to folks whose lives
Have gone from bad to worse…
And with every meal we package,
We’ll include a bible verse.

Our priority is helping
So we give you what you need
There are times, we know, a dinner
Is a welcome thing indeed!
So we’ve made a thick and hearty soup
To ladle into bowls…
We’re here to feed your bodies
Oh, and maybe, save your souls

Though we know that you’re in trouble
Still, we’d never try to cheat—
Yes, you’d listen to a sermon
For a decent bite to eat
But our charity is focused
On your hunger, not your heart…
If we serve the Holy Bible,
Then we do it a la carte.

Since we’re focusing on feeding,
You can tell we’re doing good
We won’t force some false conversion
Even though we know we could—
Not religious in the slightest,
Helping families in need…
But for atheists to help us? Why,
That’s nothing short of greed!

They would handicap our mission;
Why, it’s patently absurd!
It’s impossible to feed the poor
And not promote God’s word!
They would compromise our message:
“Only God is Love”—and so…
When they volunteered to help us
We were forced to tell them “No!”

Yeah, you’ve probably heard all about this, from Hemant, or JT, or Ed… so I’m not the first. But the people I want to link are the good folks at The Blaze. I mean, in this story, the people on the side of right are so clearly the atheists–how is your average Blaze reader to respond?

It’s a beautiful study in cognitive dissonance. Christians like us can’t be the baddies, so there are two options left, and they are ridden for all they are worth. These are not true Christians, you know, because reasons. Or… they were right to do this, because I wouldn’t want to eat food that an atheist touched, anyway (I did not make that one up). The atheists were only doing it for the publicity, anyway, and for the chance to spread their evil message… unlike the Christians, who were doing it for … all the right reasons, of course.

Hey, ’tis the season.

I Feel Like A Million

At some point last night, around 3 AM-ish local time, some visitor here ticked over the odometer, and The Digital Cuttlefish experienced its one millionth view.

I rather like the fact that it happened at that hour, because traffic was light, and I can look through the stats and have some idea (but not an exact idea) of the visitor… and the cool thing is, that person could have come from anywhere! Well, not *anywhere*, but at that time, I had visitors from the US, Canada, Mexico, Australia, New Zealand, India, the UK, and The Netherlands. I forget, sometimes, that as small as this blog is, I have many more people reading it than I do students in my combined classes, on any given day (except rare days with atypically low readership).

You might remember, a little less than a month ago, Pharyngula hit 50 million views. Since that time (that is, in under a month), PZ has already had more visitors than I have had in all my time here at FtB. FtB, as a whole, has had over 130 million views, so my million views represents less than one percent of the traffic here. I am a very small cuttlefish in a moderately-sized pond.

But some days, like today, you people make me feel like a million.

Thanks.