Think of it as culling the herd

Uh-oh, atheism is in trouble. We keep losing our great leaders, seduced away by the entirely reasonable arguments of Christianity.

We have lost Patrick Greene.

The Christian news media is all excited about winning over this “longtime atheist activist” to Christ. Not only has he become a follower of Jesus, but he’s planning to study to become a Baptist pastor.

There’s one catch to this fabulous story of recovering a lost soul: who the hell is Patrick Greene? Atheist activist? I had no idea who this entirely forgettable person was, until I did a little digging to remind myself.

He’s a crank.

He’s a somewhat notorious kook in the atheist movement, best known for calling into The Atheist Experience show and threatening to sue Ray Comfort over a bumper sticker he found offensive. His “activism” consisted of making ill-founded accusations and getting thoroughly chewed out by the real atheist activists, like Matt Dillahunty and Russell Glasser.

The real story is that Patrick Greene is getting old and having medical problems, and a local congregation raised money to help him out. He’s been bought, in other words. Even in his “atheist activism”, he was simply a litigious fool who clearly had his own self-interest in mind, so it’s no surprise that he’d cheerfully flip sides at the first sign of personal gain.

They’re welcome to him. He’s an idiot who was repudiated by atheists for his actions.

Why I am an atheist – David Bramblett

Or more specifically why I am not a believer in baseless unsubstantiated authoritarian truth claims on penalty of unending unendurable permanent agony and immolation on behalf of an all knowing all powerful father figure whose love and compassion for me is rivaled only by his plans to punish me for the most vanishingly small signs of disobedience. I don’t believe, not as a matter of blind faith but because nothing substantial has been presented upon which I can make a conscious choice. My “belief” is a conclusion not jumped to. I’m am not unconvinced, rather there is nothing present to be convinced by one way or the other. My “belief” in God is exactly equal to the belief that I am God and the creator of all that is and exactly as valid as any other such truth claim.

David Bramblett

I don’t think that word means what you think it means

The parasites are crawling out in Australia, anticipating the Global Atheist Convention (next week! Ack!). The latest is a Christian group that is trying to put together some kind of counterdemonstration in Melbourne, called Undeniable.

I deny Jesus. Well, that was a quick and easy refutation.

Also, this is being put together by the son of the guy who published that ridiculous rag, the Regal Standard. I don’t have high hopes for this crowd, given the quality of their work so far. Apparently, they’re just going to mill about expecting people to ask them to evangelize.

And so I’m boldly asking every man, woman and child from every church and denomination to come to Federation Square on Sunday 15th April. Come wearing a white T-shirt (or top) and bring your glow sticks. We will also have a limited number of printed T-shirts with the words “ASK ME MY STORY.” Our message to the media is that there are thousands of us with a unique story to tell. Our testimonies are evidence that there is a God, because He has changed our lives.

Now I’m going to have to make sure to pack a black t-shirt. Fortunately, that seems to be the most popular color in the atheist crowd.

What a deal!

You’re all looking forward to Skepticon (9-11 November, in Springfield, Missouri), but did you know you could preorder your very own Skepticon5 t-shirt right now?

And because we’re special, the Pharyngula Horde gets a special code: enter “CrocoduckLives” in the box, and you will get a free surprise gift with your t-shirt order. It probably won’t explode or shower you with razor-sharp shrapnel or stab you or poop on you. Probably. But does it matter? It will be a surprise!

Counter-gishing

The Gish Gallop is a notorious tactic used by creationists: spew out lots and lots of bad arguments at a rapid fire pace, and mire the poor scientist in efforts to refute them one by one…which she can do, but only at a slower pace than the creationist can assert them. For a perfect example, Don Batten has 101 arguments for a young earth, every one of them stupid and dishonest. Imagine a debate in which your opponent rattles off all of those at you!

Fortunately, there’s this thing called the interwebs, where people at their leisure can organize and refute such nonsense. I recommend to you this rebuttal to 101 evidences for a young age of the Earth and the universe. Start reading.

I get email – Singularity edition

The major cataclysm that struck my inbox was, of course, that silly incident with a cracker. I still get hate mail from Catholics, and intermittently still receive politely horrified regular mail from little old Catholic ladies who want to pray for me.

But the second biggest outrage I ever perpetrated may not have caught the attention of most readers: I criticized Ray Kurzweil! I still get angry email from people who stumble across this post I originally wrote in 2005, and are really pissed off that I think Saint Kurzweil is a charlatan.

“Singularly silly singularity” – You have much in common with the creationist you so despise.

For a PhD and self-proclaimed intellectual you show an utterly remarkable incapability to understand what the Singularity even is, though this does not stop you from attacking it in the cocksure fashion of the creationist attacking evolution as what he believes is the direct conversion of ape into man.

The Singularity, though inextricably related to the increasing rate of technological advancement, IS NOT a statement that this acceleration alone will lead to the sorts of things Kurzweil proposes. The Singularity is describing what occurs after the creation of a smarter-than-human artificial intelligence. By it’s very nature the workings of this AI’s ‘mind’ will be unintelligible to us. This incapability of understanding, which will compound upon itself as the AI makes advances and improvements of it’s own, acts as an ‘event horizon,’ (I should take this moment to point out that you would do well to learn what a gravitational singularity is, as it may help you understand why you are so off the mark in your incorrect understanding of the Singularity) obscuring the ability to make predictions about what course the future will take.

I’ll even grant you the underlying argument of your article opposing Kurzweil’s “Countdown to Singularity” graph (even though you clearly do not understand log vs. log graphs, which cannot be extended into the future). Stating that there is no trend of the acceleration of the rate of technological advancement DOES NOTHING to disprove the existence of the Singularity as the Singularity is a statement about what happens AFTER the creation of faster-than-human AI and not about what happens before it.

You should perhaps try thinking rather than just knowing.

-Wyatt

You know, I appreciate the fact that there is an increasing pattern of technological change — I’ve lived through the last 50 years, where we’ve gone from computers being vast arcane artifacts that cost millions of dollars to plod through mundane calculations, to being stupid little machines that let us play pong on our televisions, to becoming the routine miracle that we now use to process all our media and communicate with our friends. I get that. I do expect to be dazzled over the next few decades (if I live that long) as new technologies emerge.

But predictions of incremental advances on the basis of past experience are routine; predictions of a single, species-defining moment of radical transformation for which there are no predecessors is a data-free assumption. It can’t be justified.

Despite my correspondent’s claim that the source for the claim of a singularity is not accelerating technological advancement, that’s all Kurzweil talks about: the entire first third of The Singularity is Near (yes, I have a copy…it’s even a signed copy that he sent to me!) is a repetitive drumbeat of graphs, graphs, graphs, all showing an inexorable trend: per capita GDP, education expenditures, nanotechnology patents, price-performance for wireless data devices, on and on. That really is the foundation of his whole argument: technology advancement is accelerating, therefore we’re going to get immortality before we die. All you have to do is hang on until 2029.

What really bugs me about Kurzweil is that he blatantly fudges his data. I picked on this chart before: the data is nonsense, comparing all kinds of events that don’t really compare at all — speciation is equivalent to Jobs and Wozniak building a computer in a garage? Really? — and arbitrarily lumps together some events and omits others to create points that fit on his curve. Why does the Industrial Revolution get a single point, condensing all the technological events (steam engines, jacquard looms, iron and steel processing, architecture, coal mining machinery, canal building, railroads) into one lump, while the Information Revolution gets a finer-grained dissection into its component bits? Because that makes them fit into his pattern.

He also shows this linear plot of the same data, which I think makes the problem clear.

It’s familiarity and recency. If a man in 1900 of Kurzweil’s bent had sat down and made a plot of technological innovation, he’d have said the same thing: why, look at all the amazing things I can think of that have occurred in my lifetime, the telegraph and telephone, machine guns and ironclad battleships, automobiles and typewriters, organic chemistry and evolution. Compared to those stodgy old fellows in the 18th century, we’re just whizzing along! And then he would have drawn a little chart, and the line would have gone plummeting downward at an awesome rate as it approached his time, and he would have said, “By Jove! The King of England will rule the whole planet by 1930, and we’ll be mining coal on Mars to power our flying velocipedes!”

I would also suggest to my correspondent that if he thinks extrapolating from graphs is not appropriate, he look a little more closely at Kurzweil’s writings and wonder why he’s extrapolating from graphs so much. I didn’t create those charts I mock; Kurzweil did.

Why I am an atheist – CM

Like others, I was raised in a fundamental Christian household, first as an Independent Baptist and then a Southern Baptist. We went to church at least three, sometimes five times a week. I was a good girl, very obedient and believing, but I remember being thrown by a Sunday school teacher’s answer when I asked where your soul was – floating above your head, she replied. So I was a bit skeptical of souls from third grade on. (Side note – I reasoned there was no santa when I was five because santa’s presents were addressed to me in my dad’s handwriting. Ditto with easter bunnies and tooth fairies. I wasn’t completely naïve, just when it had to do with religion.)

I excelled in everything God- and church-related; I wanted to be a good example of a Christian from an early age. So after I was saved at four years old I worked hard to learn as many Bible verses as possible, to be obedient, to witness to my friends, to hand out popsicles at the park on hot days, etc. One of my proudest moments was when I won my state’s Southern Baptist youth Bible Drill contest and got to go to nationals. I taught Sunday school and Vacation Bible School from high school on, sang in the choir, helped lead our music program while in college. Over the summer of my junior year of college I married the pastor’s son, my high school beau (because God told us to get married), and we led the youth group together, intending to go to seminary after a couple years. At this point I had been part of the church for twenty years and it was the source of all of my comfort, friends, fun, and work.

My changes started while in high school. I was convicted over and over that I wasn’t “truly saved” and spent many nights and mornings desperate and crying while studying my Bible. One day something clicked, I forget what it was, but I had an “experience” that I thought was salvation for real, so I got re-baptized. A year or so later my new year’s resolution was to understand how salvation works, so I spent a lot of time analyzing Bible verses and reading Christian authors. Except that things started unraveling. I gave up the notion of the soul entirely, then later miracles, then prayer. By the time I got married in college I believed God had pre-ordained everything and didn’t interfere with the world, because that wouldn’t make sense. An astronomy course my senior year of college opened my eyes to actual science and messed more with my already-hanging-by-a-thread belief system. It didn’t help that my husband was a philosophy major who discussed logic puzzles with me every day. So for a year my beliefs came undone as I watched, helpless, rationalizing everything in an attempt to hold it together. Then one day I narrowly avoided a car crash and realized I hadn’t prayed. It’s impossible to describe the floor falling from under your feet , the helplessness. I knew I didn’t believe in God anymore, but had no idea what to do. My husband was headed to seminary, my church was my lifeline, my whole life revolved around God and Jesus.

After some months’ awkwardness, I discovered my husband had also stopped believing in God. We finished up at the church and fled town within a year, anxious to separate ourselves from religion. Now I had no friends or family, no work, only a husband who was as unhinged as I was. Lots of alcohol, some counseling, and ten years later, we’re still together. It’s a rare thing to have a friend who shared such an experience.

So why am I an atheist? The short answer is because I finally saw my religion for what it was: a confusing set of beliefs that made no sense once carefully considered. That said, I would not wish this experience on anyone. Sure, I consider myself more moral and caring than I ever was before, but I also lost all my friends and am still rebuilding the trust of my family and my husband’s family. In the end, it’s worth it to be a rational person, but I will always feel haunted by my past and have regrets.

CM

Where? North Texas?

I’ve got to say it: I never heard of Frisco, Texas before, and had no idea where it is. But it’s apparently a big city of 100,000 people out in the northeast part of the state, north of Dallas/Fort Worth, and they are putting on an atheist convention! These things are getting to be everywhere, and I think this is an excellent development. We just had an excellent event out here in a much more obscure part of the world (but where it is needed), and now Texas is popping up pockets of rationality everywhere.

Let’s see Amarillo and Midland and Corpus Christi join in the trend — a great wave of people of reason standing up and making themselves known all across the state.

Until the Great Texas Atheist Revolution, though, you’ll have to go to the North Texas Secular Student Convention. It’s got a great lineup; everyone in the region should hop into your Volvos with the gay pride bumper sticker and head to Frisco on the 14th of April.

As well as a debate featuring: