My old one was getting flaky and unreliable, but now I have a brand new machine that’s faster and slicker and more powerful, so I can type faster! I’ll start working like mad once it’s done syncing and rearranging everything far, far away from where I’m used to finding it. It may be a little while.
Unbelievable. They don’t just reject science, they don’t just despise women, they don’t just want to silence labor, Republicans hate art.
Over the weekend, the governor, Nikki Haley, destroyed the South Carolina Commission for the Arts — the cut was such that the 20 people who work there cannot show up to work today, can’t even go into their building, because of liability issues. The arts in South Carolina brings in $9.2 billion and creates 78,000 jobs at a cost of 1.9 million to the Arts Commission. It’s a phenomenally stupid cut — our state has one of the two best arts in education programs in the country! We don’t do a lot well in South Carolina, but this is one of the few we really do. And now we’re about to be the only state in the country without a public arts agency.
Read the whole thing. There’s a contact form there, you can contact the responsible idiots and tell ’em off; you should do that especially if you’re from South Carolina, but I think a world-wide show of solidarity would also be good.
Tell the philistines what you think.
No.
One other event I participated in was a “debate” with an ancient alien theorist. It was very peculiar, as you might guess. The way this came about was that Scotty Roberts, the alien astronaut fan, proposed a session on his wacky speculations, and the conference organizers didn’t want such lunacy to sail through without a word, so they asked some of the people on the science & skepticism track to engage. Greg Laden and I agreed to sit on a panel with him and another person, with Desiree Schell to moderate. And then I just kind of ignored the prospect until the day of.
Greg Laden and I met in the hallway briefly, and we asked each other what we were going to say, and wondered what this Roberts fellow’s position was. We didn’t have a clue. So the afternoon of the debate I pulled Scotty Roberts’ book off the magical internet, and quickly speed-read the whole thing, which turned out to be not very difficult at all, and unfortunately, he turned out to be even further out there than either Greg or I imagined.
The book is called The Rise and Fall of the Nephilim: The Untold Story of Fallen Angels, Giants on the Earth, and Their Extraterrestrial Origins
You’re already cringing, aren’t you? Just the title is enough.
Pity me. I read the contents. I shall give you a sample so that you may suffer as well.
In the occult science of Numerology, the number 33 represents the ultimate attainment of consciousness. Keeping that in mind, it is very interesting to note that the geographic location of Mount Hermon, the very place where the Watchers are said to have descended to the earthly plane, lies on the 33rd parallel, which is a latitude of 33° north of the equator. If you trace the 33rd parallel to the exact geographic global opposite from Mount Hermon, you will find yourself directly on top of the most controversially mythic place in current ufological history: Roswell, New Mexico. Mount Hermon, where the Watchers descended to the earth, and Roswell, New Mexico, are exact polar opposites on the same 33rd degree north latitude. The global coordinates of Mount Hermon and the Roswell crash site are no accident, and speak to some deeper, perhaps secret significance.
So the basis for making a connection between a greatly distorted myth about divine intervention in the Middle East and UFOs is numerology and geography, where global opposites is supposed to be somehow significant. I take this bizarrely scientific attitude towards facts, though, and despite the absurdity of the logic behind this tortuous connection, I had to look up the numbers.
(My source gave me the wrong Roswell: corrected below)
Roswell is at 33.4° N. Mount Hermon is at 33.4° N. Close!
Roswell is at 104.5° W. Mount Hermon is at 35.85° E. They aren’t even close to being longitudinal opposites. The opposite side of the globe for Roswell would be somewhere deep in Asia, while the opposite for Mount Hermon is in the Pacific Ocean.
The rest of the book has the same deep affection for the truth: none of it matters. The entire basis for his argument is a few lines from the Bible and the book of Enoch, in which Nephilim and giants and angels are casually tossed around, and what he wants to do is pretend those are scientific data, from which he can build a gigantic rickety framework of speculation intended to support his foregone conclusion, that angels mated with humans and produced a special line of meddling magic creatures.
Now what about the “debate”?
As expected, it was awful. Scotty Roberts opened by protesting that he hadn’t known it was going to be a debate, so he didn’t have any “facts” on hand, and besides, it wasn’t an argument built on facts, but was a theory and philosophy — this was something of a theme for him, dismissing mere science and claiming that the ass-plucking he was doing should be called philosophy. He actively avoided making any specific claims about what he was arguing for — he did not talk about UFOs, Nephilim, Roswell, or any of the details he promoted in his book, preferring instead to recite vague creationist claims (“there were 600 flood myths!”) and complaining about having to provide evidence, of which he had none.
We poked at his gelatinous gooey non-statements. Greg ripped into his pseudo-archaeology: no, there aren’t 600 flood myths, there are racist connotations to all of these alien beings stories, because they’re often trotted out to support claims of the inferiority of native peoples, who weren’t possibly clever enough to construct those peculiar artifacts. I hammered him on the absence of evidence and the absurdity of his pretense to logic.
He was, of course, imperturbable. There was nothing rational about any of his claims, so there was no way rational argument was going to make him question them.
It was a mildly entertaining afternoon, nothing more.
One other thing: he’s hosting another convention in Minneapolis this October: The Paradigm Symposium: Re-visioning our place in the universe. I see one word in the title that’s been overused to the point of meaninglessness, and another awkward invention. It’s gonna be ugly, folks.
But look at the speaker list: they actually have Erich von Däniken coming in, also with George Noory, and, of course, the notorious Giorgio A. Tsoukalos. You know who I’m talking about.
Roberts casually invited me to the conference to participate in a debate there, and I would be tempted, just because JESUS LOOK AT ALL THE BLOG FODDER! I suspect, though, that the invitation will fade from his memory as it sinks in that I would be sitting in the audience, laughing way too hard throughout the event.
Hey, cool: ZOMGItsCriss recorded the whole thing.
It’s going to take a few days to recover from last weekend — I was participating in CONvergence, a regional Science Fiction and Fantasy convention. It was a fatiguing load of fun, you should have been there. You should go to an occasional non-atheist/skeptic conference yourself! Trust me, it’s relevant.
I’m a guy who’s into promoting godlessness and science, and there are two kinds of events I go to. Right now, there are a growing number of atheist/skeptic conferences that promote our causes, and draw in large numbers of people who already support them; these are internal events that strengthen and reinforce the movement, and in which we can also emphasize specific strains of thought (I tend to push more science at these meetings, for instance). There are also events which are more outreach: talking to people who are not in this movement, but maybe share some common interests. It’s internal vs. external, movement building vs. outreach.
I have mischaracterized Maryam Namazie! Fortunately, she has done an excellent job of correcting me:
I am an atheist not because the atheist movement cares about rights (it doesn’t) or has been overly supportive (which it hasn’t) but because I despise religion and Islam.
I have become an atheist – not because it’s pragmatic – but as a result of my battles against the Islamic Republic of Iran and Islamism. The Islamic regime of Iran recently wrote a piece on me called ‘Get to know this anti-religion woman’.
If I had to say what type of atheist I am, I’d say a militant atheist.
Brilliant! My listing could not possibly have been comprehensive, and anti-clericalism has long been a significant element in freethought. I should not have tried to shoehorn her into a poorly fitting category.
I’ll also join her in despising religion and Islam.
When I look at the world around me, I know that it could not have happened by chance or caprice. There is a divine order, a structure, a cosmic beauty underlying everything: from the awe I feel when I see the stars in the sky, to the beautiful scent of roses, to the sight of a burning sunset, to the love I feel for my friends and family. How could any of this have happened on a mere whim?
And that is why I am an atheist.
I have found my way home, weary and worn, and now I go to sleepeth, to winnow with giant arms the slumbering green, battening upon huge seaworms in my sleep.
(Episode CCCXLV: Nerds, geeks, dweebs.)
I am one of the very fortunate who has never had to fight my family on religious matters. My parents raised me in a very secular fashion and did not speak of spiritual matters when I was young unless I brought them up.
I was 10 years old. And like any nerdy 10 year old, I was in love with dinosaurs, sharks and other monsters of biology. I decided that I would read “Jurassic Park,” all on my own without any parental assistance. It took months, averaging maybe 5 pages a day, but I was resolved.
Lot of dead air here lately, sorry about that. It’s a combination of factors: my laptop is dying (replacement has been ordered) and is no longer reliable, especially not for traveling…so it’s locked down in my office and confined to only light duties. But that means I’m away from home without a fully functional blogging computer. My work flow is disrupted! But I’ll be going home today.
Also, I was ambitious: I’ve done 11 panels at CONvergence so far (one more this afternoon), and co-hosted the Freethoughtblogs party, 8pm-1am, every night — actually, most of the work there has been done by Mary, who’s going to collapse once we get home, I think. My voice is gone, fried and frazzled, which will make this last session an ordeal. I think I’ll just point to the other people and have them do all the work, while I nap.
Anyway, Pharyngula will be back to normal by Monday. I hope. I think it depends on me getting my brain back on track. Fortunately I don’t need to talk to blog.
