Like many of you, I am greatly disappointed, if not entirely shocked, by the recent Supreme Court ruling in the case Burwell v. Hobby Lobby. The decision was a Plessy v. Ferguson of our time, putting an already disadvantaged group, women, at the mercy of discriminatory organizations for superstitious and spurious reasons that should have no place in American public life. Unsurprisingly, all three of the female justices on the Supreme Court voted against Hobby Lobby.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg's scathing, legally scintillating dissent should itself vindicate our sex in the face of a risibly paternalistic ruling that presumes women incapable of making their own decisions about their reproductive health. I dare any of the (all-male) justices on the opposing side to produce a more compelling and well-reasoned argument than this:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/231974154/Ginsburg-Dissent
(It's worth reading the entire way through. Multiple times, if necessary.)
This ruling is a severe blow to women's rights in our country; the earlier comparison to Plessy v. Ferguson is no exaggeration. Under the guise of religious freedom, this Supreme Court decision sets a new precedent of "separate but equal" for employees of companies whose leaders believe that women ought to have less control over their sexual and reproductive lives than men do. Consider that Hobby Lobby is perfectly willing to cover Viagra, circumcision, and vasectomies -- but somehow simultaneously refuses to pay for IUDs and Plan B. This plainly demonstrates that Hobby Lobby is willing to participate in the funding of some forms of birth control and reproductive healthcare, so long as the recipients are male. The Court is essentially sanctioning corporate sexism.
The Supreme Court's majority opinion significantly undermines the credibility of the institution and the ruling, as it is laden with ignorance and misinformation about women's health, contraceptives, and even about Christianity itself. For example, intrauterine devices primarily work by preventing fertilization rather than by causing a woman's body to reject the implantation of an embryo -- which means that, even under the most conservative Christian understanding of "the beginning of life," IUDs do not negatively affect human beings with personal rights. Hobby Lobby therefore does not even have reasonable religious grounds in refusing to cover IUDs. For that matter, Hobby Lobby's 401K plans invest in some of the same medical device and healthcare companies that make the products Hobby Lobby objects to covering. This is blatantly hypocritical, and the five Catholic male justices who sided with Hobby Lobby should have seen right through it. This Economist article does an excellent job of deconstructing the hypocrisies and irrationality of Hobby Lobby's position:
http://www.economist.com/blogs/democracyinamerica/2014/07/hobby-lobby-and-religious-exceptions
Perhaps even more disturbing, though, is the majority's insistence that a corporation should be allowed to pick and choose the elements of the healthcare it is required to provide for its employees. So long as a corporation operates in this country, it ought to adhere to all of this country's laws, especially where they concern employees who are American citizens and who depend on these laws for protection. This savvy comedian, who spoke out about the Hobby Lobby case before the Supreme Court came to its decision, points out that much as citizens have to pay all of the taxes we owe even though we might not agree with every government function that our tax dollars pay for (such as the Iraq War), a company must similarly pay for everything it is legally bound to provide for its employees, regardless of its owner's personal beliefs:
Yes, I have strong feelings about this decision, as should all women and anyone who supports equal rights for women. Let's hope that, much as Plessy was followed by Brown v. Board, that a future Supreme Court will overturn this abhorrent, misguided ruling.
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Monday, July 7, 2014
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Free Will and Nuclear Winter
I've been thinking, lately, about free will -- and I recalled this article that I read last year. It's a good, concise analysis of causality (particularly the bits about levels of complexity), and addresses some of the fallacies of breaking down human behavior into ever-smaller constituent components:
http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/science/2013/09/free_will_debate_what_does_free_will_mean_and_how_did_it_evolve.html
The question is a version of "are we more than the sum of our parts?" Many people attempt to derive an answer from religion, espousing a concept of "soul," a metaphysical quantity that science is -- by definition -- unable to prove or disprove. But in the absence of such a belief, are we not just collections of atoms? Isn't each of our thought processes a mere chemical reaction in our neurons? It's a chilling way to think about ourselves; the idea that there is only one possible course of events because our actions are governed by a set immutable physical laws, that each circumstance leads logically into a specific next circumstance, is essentially a secular version of the idea of fate or predestination.
But there's a scientific argument against fate: the multiverse. If there is an infinite number of possible universes, infinitely many points at which one universe becomes multiple, then there isn't one logical state for the universe at any given point in time. The possibility of parallel universes implies, if not conscious choice at all times, then at least many possible outcomes, none of which are certain to happen. Quantum physics likewise deals with uncertainty -- with thought experiments such as Schroedinger's Cat, in which a situation manifests both possible outcomes simultaneously. Science, it appears, disproves fate.
Then, there are situations like this one, in which one person's choice, a split-second decision in a situation of incomplete information, may have prevented all-out nuclear destruction:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-24280831
Given a circumstance like this, it's hard not to believe in free will. I'm sure that there's a parallel universe out there in which the world ended on September 26, 1983.
http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/science/2013/09/free_will_debate_what_does_free_will_mean_and_how_did_it_evolve.html
The question is a version of "are we more than the sum of our parts?" Many people attempt to derive an answer from religion, espousing a concept of "soul," a metaphysical quantity that science is -- by definition -- unable to prove or disprove. But in the absence of such a belief, are we not just collections of atoms? Isn't each of our thought processes a mere chemical reaction in our neurons? It's a chilling way to think about ourselves; the idea that there is only one possible course of events because our actions are governed by a set immutable physical laws, that each circumstance leads logically into a specific next circumstance, is essentially a secular version of the idea of fate or predestination.
But there's a scientific argument against fate: the multiverse. If there is an infinite number of possible universes, infinitely many points at which one universe becomes multiple, then there isn't one logical state for the universe at any given point in time. The possibility of parallel universes implies, if not conscious choice at all times, then at least many possible outcomes, none of which are certain to happen. Quantum physics likewise deals with uncertainty -- with thought experiments such as Schroedinger's Cat, in which a situation manifests both possible outcomes simultaneously. Science, it appears, disproves fate.
Then, there are situations like this one, in which one person's choice, a split-second decision in a situation of incomplete information, may have prevented all-out nuclear destruction:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-24280831
Given a circumstance like this, it's hard not to believe in free will. I'm sure that there's a parallel universe out there in which the world ended on September 26, 1983.
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Monday, December 30, 2013
NYTimes: (Middle) East Meets West
I recently saw the film "American Hustle" (quite good, I would recommend it), in which there's a con involving an Arab oil magnate in Atlantic City, and I thought of this New York Times article about Middle Eastern investors doing business in the West:
http://dealbook.nytimes.com/2013/12/25/islamic-banks-stuffed-with-cash-explore-partnerships-in-west/?hp
I find the crossroads of disparate cultures fascinating (possibly because I occupy one such intersection myself). There's always a certain contentious power dynamic, no matter how seamless each side wants their dance to be -- it's simply a matter of navigating cultural differences, and where there's difference, there's compromise to be reached.
In the cases mentioned in the above article, it's a matter of Islamic law, which to Westerners accustomed to separation of Church and state, seems antiquated and alien. Of course, considering that American bills still have "In God We Trust" printed on them, we're not 100% secular either. The United States is just a less homogenous society, which means that it's much harder to enshrine any particular religious practice as law without provoking backlash from other religions. In the Middle East, on the other hand, Islamic tenets -- such as the prohibition on interest payments, for example -- are so ingrained in the legal system, in everyone's day-to-day operations, that it would hardly seem out of the ordinary for Islamic companies to request certain religious accommodations as part and parcel of doing business.
Each side tends to think of itself as "normal" and everyone else as "other." That's just how we're wired--it was an evolutionary advantage, to be sure, and we've remained so long after our species abandoned the "small tribes roaming the Serengeti" lifestyle. It's a product of genes ensuring their own survival, methinks, and it has been the root cause of a lot of conflict through the centuries (and even today). But in a world where it is generally acknowledged that outright war between states is undesirable for all states in question (with certain notable exceptions, many of them precipitated by stateless organizations or religious factions), I suppose a lot of that cultural distance gets sublimated into power plays in negotiation (and similar, otherwise constructive enterprises).
I expect we'll see more and more of this in our increasingly globalized world. Today, it's not just governments that engage with each other -- it's entire populations that have to reconcile "us" and "them."
http://dealbook.nytimes.com/2013/12/25/islamic-banks-stuffed-with-cash-explore-partnerships-in-west/?hp
I find the crossroads of disparate cultures fascinating (possibly because I occupy one such intersection myself). There's always a certain contentious power dynamic, no matter how seamless each side wants their dance to be -- it's simply a matter of navigating cultural differences, and where there's difference, there's compromise to be reached.
In the cases mentioned in the above article, it's a matter of Islamic law, which to Westerners accustomed to separation of Church and state, seems antiquated and alien. Of course, considering that American bills still have "In God We Trust" printed on them, we're not 100% secular either. The United States is just a less homogenous society, which means that it's much harder to enshrine any particular religious practice as law without provoking backlash from other religions. In the Middle East, on the other hand, Islamic tenets -- such as the prohibition on interest payments, for example -- are so ingrained in the legal system, in everyone's day-to-day operations, that it would hardly seem out of the ordinary for Islamic companies to request certain religious accommodations as part and parcel of doing business.
Each side tends to think of itself as "normal" and everyone else as "other." That's just how we're wired--it was an evolutionary advantage, to be sure, and we've remained so long after our species abandoned the "small tribes roaming the Serengeti" lifestyle. It's a product of genes ensuring their own survival, methinks, and it has been the root cause of a lot of conflict through the centuries (and even today). But in a world where it is generally acknowledged that outright war between states is undesirable for all states in question (with certain notable exceptions, many of them precipitated by stateless organizations or religious factions), I suppose a lot of that cultural distance gets sublimated into power plays in negotiation (and similar, otherwise constructive enterprises).
I expect we'll see more and more of this in our increasingly globalized world. Today, it's not just governments that engage with each other -- it's entire populations that have to reconcile "us" and "them."
Monday, October 14, 2013
Knights vs. Snail in Medieval England
A whimsical curiosity from the British Library's medieval manuscripts blog (the librarians post some fascinating stuff -- the rest of the blog is definitely worth a peek too):
http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2013/09/knight-v-snail.html
The motif of knights fighting giant snails is apparently quite common in medieval illuminated manuscripts, though nobody knows why, or what it was supposed to have signified. (There's even snail jousting! And monkeys!) Was it all just marginalia? Bored monks -- who were only human, after all -- having a bit of fun with their transcription? Did snails moonlight as agents of Satan when not making nuisances of themselves in the monastery vegetable patches? Even among the eminent scholars at the British Library, nobody knows.
While the world of medieval archivists puzzles over this mystery, the rest of us get some Easter eggs in our manuscripts. Happy Monday, everyone!
http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2013/09/knight-v-snail.html
The motif of knights fighting giant snails is apparently quite common in medieval illuminated manuscripts, though nobody knows why, or what it was supposed to have signified. (There's even snail jousting! And monkeys!) Was it all just marginalia? Bored monks -- who were only human, after all -- having a bit of fun with their transcription? Did snails moonlight as agents of Satan when not making nuisances of themselves in the monastery vegetable patches? Even among the eminent scholars at the British Library, nobody knows.
While the world of medieval archivists puzzles over this mystery, the rest of us get some Easter eggs in our manuscripts. Happy Monday, everyone!
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Reality, Relativity, and Light
I read José Saramago's The History of the Siege of Lisbon last week -- in translation, of course, since I don't read Portuguese. It's excellent, and somewhat stylistically and structurally unusual. But I was struck, in particular, by this line, spoken to the protagonist by his lover (the relationship is rather more complicated than that, of course):
This is especially relevant to the subject matter because the 1147 Siege of Lisbon, about which the protagonist writes, was a manifestation of a centuries-old clash of cultures and religions, a battle between two peoples who understood the same God through different scriptures and different prophets. Elizabeth I once said, in another century about another religious conflict, "I would not open windows into men's souls." Such windows can only be approximated, even in the best of circumstances.
I'm also taken by the Saramago's use of light in this scene -- something one normally associates with visual art rather than with prose. It's ripe with symbolism; the notion of shedding light on something intangible, that our eyes can tell us about reality between two people, &c. I'm reminded of two things:
The second thing is Plato's Allegory of the Cave. Our understanding of what goes on inside another person's mind is rather like to the prisoners' understanding of the shadows on the wall. Another person's reality undergoes several layers of translation before it becomes comprehensible to us; the "truth" is distorted by their perception, interpreted by their mind, conveyed by their words, filtered by our ears, and only then is it analyzed by our minds. Plato's prisoners are eventually unchained, but there is no way for any of us to overcome this process of interpretation. The amount that must get lost in translation is mind-boggling. It makes me wonder what a society of perfect communication (of telepathy, essentially) would look like.
Edit: Soon after writing this post, I chanced upon an io9 article about philosophical thought experiments: http://io9.com/9-philosophical-thought-experiments-that-will-keep-you-1340952809@AnnaleeNewitz. The third entry therein, "The Beetle in the Box" (aka the Private Language Argument), is very much like what I discuss above. The second entry, "Mary the Colorblind Neuroscientist" (aka the Inverted Spectrum Problem), is also quite similar to the Allegory of the Cave. It's well worth reading.
Switch on the light, she said, I want to know if this is real. (p264)The relationship between any two people -- even within family, even between people who might have known each other their whole lives -- is a fragile thing. Within that relationship, there are layers of reality, of perception. It's a sort of relativity, even -- one that isn't governed by any laws of physics. His reality and hers could be completely different, and each moment's reality different from the next. It's odd to think that we can never know what another person's reality looks like; the closest we can come is to achieve an understanding of how our reality compares to what we perceive to be their reality, with full awareness that our vantage point colours our reading.
This is especially relevant to the subject matter because the 1147 Siege of Lisbon, about which the protagonist writes, was a manifestation of a centuries-old clash of cultures and religions, a battle between two peoples who understood the same God through different scriptures and different prophets. Elizabeth I once said, in another century about another religious conflict, "I would not open windows into men's souls." Such windows can only be approximated, even in the best of circumstances.
I'm also taken by the Saramago's use of light in this scene -- something one normally associates with visual art rather than with prose. It's ripe with symbolism; the notion of shedding light on something intangible, that our eyes can tell us about reality between two people, &c. I'm reminded of two things:
Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination...So many years after the events of "The Phantom of the Opera," the very chandelier that was associated with the disaster perpetrated by the Phantom is now a source of illumination -- both as a refurbished light fixture, and as a window into the murky past, the audience's introduction to the story. Because it is an inanimate object with a lofty vantage point, it is, in a fashion, the impartial observer of the story. And yet, it is also a crucial "participant" in the story. Its impartiality is not so much due to its placement, a lamp hanging high above the human characters, but rather because it has no free will, no desires or motivations of its own.
~ "The Phantom of the Opera," Act I, Scene 1
The second thing is Plato's Allegory of the Cave. Our understanding of what goes on inside another person's mind is rather like to the prisoners' understanding of the shadows on the wall. Another person's reality undergoes several layers of translation before it becomes comprehensible to us; the "truth" is distorted by their perception, interpreted by their mind, conveyed by their words, filtered by our ears, and only then is it analyzed by our minds. Plato's prisoners are eventually unchained, but there is no way for any of us to overcome this process of interpretation. The amount that must get lost in translation is mind-boggling. It makes me wonder what a society of perfect communication (of telepathy, essentially) would look like.
Edit: Soon after writing this post, I chanced upon an io9 article about philosophical thought experiments: http://io9.com/9-philosophical-thought-experiments-that-will-keep-you-1340952809@AnnaleeNewitz. The third entry therein, "The Beetle in the Box" (aka the Private Language Argument), is very much like what I discuss above. The second entry, "Mary the Colorblind Neuroscientist" (aka the Inverted Spectrum Problem), is also quite similar to the Allegory of the Cave. It's well worth reading.
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Friday, June 21, 2013
BBC: A One-Way Trip to Mars
I've been reading Asimov lately, and consequently thinking about space colonization. One of the most often-cited barriers to human colonization of extraterrestrial worlds is the presumed lack of volunteers willing to make a one-way journey to another planet; it seems too conclusive, a course of action only the deeply desperate or truly dissatisfied would be willing to undertake. (Fortunately for human rights, but unfortunately for space colonization, penal colonies -- the interplanetary version of 19th century Australia -- don't seem to be a viable option.)
It seems, however, that not everyone shares said pessimism about human civilization beyond Earth:
http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20120206-space-tourists-one-way-mars-trip
There are a number of examples of migration and settlement in human history that may be considered analogues of space colonization. The Thirteen Colonies, for example, were populated by settlers who never expected to return to their lands of origin, and who were largely unable to communicate with family and friends from their precolonial lives (a product of distance, the unreliability of mail delivery, and illiteracy). And yet, there was no shortage of people willing to make the trip -- there were convicts and bondsmen, to be sure, but also religious minorities, merchants, speculators, explorers, and all manner of people who believed that they could build a better life in the uncharted wilderness than in the known, civilized world. I don't believe that this strain of optimism and curiosity will have disappeared between then and whenever we are capable of sending colonists beyond our orbit.
Would I go? I must admit: probably not. I have too many Earthly attachments -- people, places, moments, experiences (especially people). I would have been reluctant, I think, even in the later eras of immigration by ship; see the song "Kilkelly." It's no coincidence that so many of the early colonists in North America were particularly fervent Protestants who believed that one's mortal existence was ultimately inconsequential (predestination, and the complete rejection of Catholic belief in deed as well as faith), or people with few ties to their original communities, for varying definitions of community. But in an age of faster interplanetary travel, I'd sure love to visit!
Also, I think the idea of sending a few intrepid journalists to document the development of the Martian colony is brilliant. It's not often that we get to study the development of a nascent civilization, and it would prove instructive to have such a chronicle on hand once the colonization of space really begins.
The article mentions a hypothetical poll; I would be very interested to see the results of that particular study. I'm especially curious as to the demographics of an all-volunteer Martian colony, and whether they would reflect a population roughly comparable to the New World colonists.
It seems, however, that not everyone shares said pessimism about human civilization beyond Earth:
http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20120206-space-tourists-one-way-mars-trip
There are a number of examples of migration and settlement in human history that may be considered analogues of space colonization. The Thirteen Colonies, for example, were populated by settlers who never expected to return to their lands of origin, and who were largely unable to communicate with family and friends from their precolonial lives (a product of distance, the unreliability of mail delivery, and illiteracy). And yet, there was no shortage of people willing to make the trip -- there were convicts and bondsmen, to be sure, but also religious minorities, merchants, speculators, explorers, and all manner of people who believed that they could build a better life in the uncharted wilderness than in the known, civilized world. I don't believe that this strain of optimism and curiosity will have disappeared between then and whenever we are capable of sending colonists beyond our orbit.
Would I go? I must admit: probably not. I have too many Earthly attachments -- people, places, moments, experiences (especially people). I would have been reluctant, I think, even in the later eras of immigration by ship; see the song "Kilkelly." It's no coincidence that so many of the early colonists in North America were particularly fervent Protestants who believed that one's mortal existence was ultimately inconsequential (predestination, and the complete rejection of Catholic belief in deed as well as faith), or people with few ties to their original communities, for varying definitions of community. But in an age of faster interplanetary travel, I'd sure love to visit!
Also, I think the idea of sending a few intrepid journalists to document the development of the Martian colony is brilliant. It's not often that we get to study the development of a nascent civilization, and it would prove instructive to have such a chronicle on hand once the colonization of space really begins.
The article mentions a hypothetical poll; I would be very interested to see the results of that particular study. I'm especially curious as to the demographics of an all-volunteer Martian colony, and whether they would reflect a population roughly comparable to the New World colonists.
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Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Erasmus, the Consummate Bibliophile
Story of my life:
And of course, Erasmus is one of my favorite Catholic philosophers, though admittedly, I admire him more for his humanism than for his religion. (Granted, his being Dutch -- as opposed to, say, Spanish -- during the Renaissance might have something to do with it.) In a day and age filled with all manner of extremists, he was a moderate -- a principled, rational, articulate moderate, and a champion of religious tolerance amidst rampant sectarian violence. It was all the books, of course! :-)
When I get a little money, I buy books. If any is left, I buy food and clothes.
~ ErasmusTo reassure those of you with concerns about my continued survival... I doubt I'd ever actually resort to such extremes. Library cards, after all, didn't exist in the fifteenth century.
And of course, Erasmus is one of my favorite Catholic philosophers, though admittedly, I admire him more for his humanism than for his religion. (Granted, his being Dutch -- as opposed to, say, Spanish -- during the Renaissance might have something to do with it.) In a day and age filled with all manner of extremists, he was a moderate -- a principled, rational, articulate moderate, and a champion of religious tolerance amidst rampant sectarian violence. It was all the books, of course! :-)
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Monday, February 18, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Economist: Is the EU the Holy Roman Empire 2.0?
A thought-provoking historical perspective on the current economic and political situation in the EU:
http://www.economist.com/news/christmas/21568659-old-empire-offers-surprising-lessons-european-union-today-european-disunion-done
Several such entities have been attempted in Europe through its long history, from the classical Roman Empire to today's European Union. Though the continent derives some unity from its vaunted Greco-Roman roots, it contains a great deal of diversity in terms of language, ethnicity, culture -- all the necessary components of national identity. There are, in fact, a number of key differences (some articulated in the above article, some not) between the current EU and comparable historical entities (interestingly, they all begin with 'c'). Here's my (history buff's) perspective (it's longer than usual, so I've put it under the cut):
http://www.economist.com/news/christmas/21568659-old-empire-offers-surprising-lessons-european-union-today-european-disunion-done
Several such entities have been attempted in Europe through its long history, from the classical Roman Empire to today's European Union. Though the continent derives some unity from its vaunted Greco-Roman roots, it contains a great deal of diversity in terms of language, ethnicity, culture -- all the necessary components of national identity. There are, in fact, a number of key differences (some articulated in the above article, some not) between the current EU and comparable historical entities (interestingly, they all begin with 'c'). Here's my (history buff's) perspective (it's longer than usual, so I've put it under the cut):
Sunday, February 3, 2013
io9: Race Relations in the Space Age
An adorable, moving video about breaking all sorts of glass ceilings in pursuit of one's dreams (also, Star Trek pioneering integration FTW):
http://io9.com/5981089/a-sweet-animated-tale-of-challenger-astronaut-ronald-mcnairs-early-experience-standing-up-to-racism
Ronald McNair. I didn't know who he was until I saw this, but I'm glad I found it. I'll admit to tearing up a little at the end. (Challenger, why?) He's one of the many unsung heroes of science -- much as the Catholic Church has a body of saints, I propose that science establish its own roster of martyrs for the cause. McNair would be up there with Galileo and Marie Curie.
http://io9.com/5981089/a-sweet-animated-tale-of-challenger-astronaut-ronald-mcnairs-early-experience-standing-up-to-racism
Ronald McNair. I didn't know who he was until I saw this, but I'm glad I found it. I'll admit to tearing up a little at the end. (Challenger, why?) He's one of the many unsung heroes of science -- much as the Catholic Church has a body of saints, I propose that science establish its own roster of martyrs for the cause. McNair would be up there with Galileo and Marie Curie.
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Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Washington Post: Food Truck for Peace
This is such an inspired idea!
http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/food-truck-will-deliver-message-of-mideast-peace/2013/01/25/b121ea7e-6665-11e2-93e1-475791032daf_story.html?hpid=z1
Throughout human history, the concept of breaking bread has had a powerful hold on our imaginations. Food, and the culture and traditions surrounding it, is one of the original methods of brokering peace. Back in the earliest days of homo sapiens, the acquisition of food was a costly group effort that strengthened the bonds within one's immediate community. In Ancient Greece, offering food and shelter to visitors became an integral part of upholding the honor of one's house. In many cultures, it was considered taboo to bring weaponry to the table, and any harm that befell a guest at one's table brought great dishonor upon the host.
It's time that we brought everyday Jews and Muslims to that table. In the most political city in the melting pot that is America, peace -- or at least understanding and friendship -- might well take root via food.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/food-truck-will-deliver-message-of-mideast-peace/2013/01/25/b121ea7e-6665-11e2-93e1-475791032daf_story.html?hpid=z1
Throughout human history, the concept of breaking bread has had a powerful hold on our imaginations. Food, and the culture and traditions surrounding it, is one of the original methods of brokering peace. Back in the earliest days of homo sapiens, the acquisition of food was a costly group effort that strengthened the bonds within one's immediate community. In Ancient Greece, offering food and shelter to visitors became an integral part of upholding the honor of one's house. In many cultures, it was considered taboo to bring weaponry to the table, and any harm that befell a guest at one's table brought great dishonor upon the host.
It's time that we brought everyday Jews and Muslims to that table. In the most political city in the melting pot that is America, peace -- or at least understanding and friendship -- might well take root via food.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
io9: Let's Bring Back the Greek Gods!
Because they were so much more interesting than the all-powerful monotheist deities people worship now!
http://io9.com/5974126/can-we-bring-the-greek-gods-back-please
Granted, religion isn't meant to be entertaining so much as to provide followers with a roadmap to a pleasant afterlife and an explanation for all questions not yet answered by science. But the Greeks had both those (well, perhaps not always the nicest afterlife) as well as extremely colourful and often interactive mythology. I don't fancy getting abducted by a Greek god, but going to an oracle sounds like quite the experience. (Then again, the oracle of Delphi was supposed to be on psychotropic fumes emitted by the volcanic vents in the area.)
In any case, it sure beats Calvinism!
http://io9.com/5974126/can-we-bring-the-greek-gods-back-please
Granted, religion isn't meant to be entertaining so much as to provide followers with a roadmap to a pleasant afterlife and an explanation for all questions not yet answered by science. But the Greeks had both those (well, perhaps not always the nicest afterlife) as well as extremely colourful and often interactive mythology. I don't fancy getting abducted by a Greek god, but going to an oracle sounds like quite the experience. (Then again, the oracle of Delphi was supposed to be on psychotropic fumes emitted by the volcanic vents in the area.)
In any case, it sure beats Calvinism!
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
NYTimes: A Religious Perspective on the Newtown Massacre
I have, on occasion, made my views on religion known to readers of this blog. (I don't think religion and politics should be taboo topics of conversation, so long as disagreements are civil and rational.) I consider myself secularly spiritual. I personally think of religion as a blend of mythology and morality, but I have great respect for religious people who live by the true tenets of their creed (which I don't think include holy wars, persecution of minorities, or evangelism), and I believe that the hearts of most religions are benevolent and peace-loving. I appreciate the value of the moral guidance and comfort that religion can bring to believers in difficult times. This is an example of such:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/26/opinion/dowd-why-god.html?hp&_r=0&gwh=02A7DB3DBD76598A7F25B51569ED6491
This man reminds me of Victor Hugo's Bishop of Digne, one of the first and finest examples of religious men I'd encountered.
Merry Christmas.
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/26/opinion/dowd-why-god.html?hp&_r=0&gwh=02A7DB3DBD76598A7F25B51569ED6491
This man reminds me of Victor Hugo's Bishop of Digne, one of the first and finest examples of religious men I'd encountered.
Merry Christmas.
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Friday, March 9, 2012
Neil deGrasse Tyson, Book Critiqua, and the Universe at Large
My latest column is up! You can find it at: http://www.stanforddaily.com/2012/03/09/book-critiqua-space-chronicles/
I'd never read anything of Tyson's before this one, but Space Chronicles makes me want to check out some of his other works. His writing reminds me a little of Freeman J. Dyson's books -- an old favorite when it comes to theoretical physics.
On a related note, here's a video that Lucas sent me. It's Tyson talking about the beauty of the universe, the "we are all stardust" sentiment. (He says it more poetically than I do.) People who don't think that atheists can find meaning in life should watch this.
I'd never read anything of Tyson's before this one, but Space Chronicles makes me want to check out some of his other works. His writing reminds me a little of Freeman J. Dyson's books -- an old favorite when it comes to theoretical physics.
On a related note, here's a video that Lucas sent me. It's Tyson talking about the beauty of the universe, the "we are all stardust" sentiment. (He says it more poetically than I do.) People who don't think that atheists can find meaning in life should watch this.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Physics from Hell
Speaking of Galileo:
It's quite fascinating how this entire body of mythology developed as a way of rationalizing a historical document in light of scientific advances over the course of centuries. It led to some pretty interesting literalist interpretations, as shown above. (Obviously, Biblical literalism yielded some rather significant results, mostly through its loss of scientific credibility. Ironic, but not surprising.)
It's quite fascinating how this entire body of mythology developed as a way of rationalizing a historical document in light of scientific advances over the course of centuries. It led to some pretty interesting literalist interpretations, as shown above. (Obviously, Biblical literalism yielded some rather significant results, mostly through its loss of scientific credibility. Ironic, but not surprising.)
Labels:
Boston Globe,
Galileo,
history,
literature,
mathematics,
physics,
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Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Poetry vs. the Inquisition
A thought on the power of poetry, or perhaps just the abstruseness of some of the stuff:
Hardy was himself a great poet, so he knows whereof he speaks.
If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.
~ Thomas HardyOf course, if Galileo had written the Dialogue in the style of Vergil, he might never have achieved the posthumous scientific success that he did. (Then again, there were Renaissance men in his day, scientist-poet-philosophers. I wish our modern education system allowed for that -- but that's for a different post all together.)
Hardy was himself a great poet, so he knows whereof he speaks.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Finals are over!
An eminently appropriate HistoricLOL:
All I have left is packing, storage, things of that nature. I'm flying home on Friday.
All I have left is packing, storage, things of that nature. I'm flying home on Friday.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Today
is the 484th anniversary of the Sack of Rome. Since there have been multiple Sacks of Rome (makes Rome sound a bit like potatoes?), I'm referring to the one where Charles V's troops ran amok after the death of their commander Duke Charles and pillaged Rome. (Duke Charles III and Charles V were not the same person; Charles V was the Holy Roman Emperor and Charles III was the Duke of Bourbon.) His second-in-command (sort of) Philibert de Châlon, Prince of Orange, was a bit of a wet blanket, and nobody listened to him, so there was no one to prevent the troops from doing as they pleased. Not to mention that Charles V, while outwardly condemning the lawlessness of his men, actually stood to benefit greatly from the Sack of Rome, as it put Pope Clement VII under Hapsburg control -- so I would imagine that Charles V didn't do much in the way of preventing the Sack.
Edit: I realize, upon re-reading it a day later, that this post is rather incoherent. I blame lack of sleep...
Edit: I realize, upon re-reading it a day later, that this post is rather incoherent. I blame lack of sleep...
Friday, October 15, 2010
Pax Vobiscum
My roommate, Wendy, and I were discussing valedictions to formal letters, and I mentioned that I'm in the habit of signing off with "Pax vobiscum", or simply "Pax" (meaning "Peace be with you" and "Peace", respectively, in Latin). I thought that perhaps I should vary it a bit. With minimal Googling, I found the following site, which lists the translations for "peace" in practically every (written) language out there:
http://www.columbia.edu/~fdc/pace/
I'm aware that "Pax vobiscum" is most often encountered within the Catholic Church, where it has the connotation of wishing God's grace and protection upon the recipient, a benediction, of sorts. It need not be imbued with any religious meaning, as the words themselves are purely secular. Latin in itself was not originally a religious language -- unlike, say, Hebrew.
http://www.columbia.edu/~fdc/pace/
I'm aware that "Pax vobiscum" is most often encountered within the Catholic Church, where it has the connotation of wishing God's grace and protection upon the recipient, a benediction, of sorts. It need not be imbued with any religious meaning, as the words themselves are purely secular. Latin in itself was not originally a religious language -- unlike, say, Hebrew.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Today is World Animal Day, and the Feast Day of St. Francis of Assisi
It's pretty self-explanatory: it's basically a day to spread awareness of conservation efforts and animal rights, observed by a variety of organizations (such as animal shelters, wildlife conservation groups, schools, churches, &c.) as well as individuals from all walks of life.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Animal_Day
Interestingly enough, it is no coincidence that today is also the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi, the much-beloved Italian monk who founded the monastic order that bears his name, and who is the patron saint of animals, nature, and the environment at large. He's another of my favorite saints; I tend to prefer the ones, I find, who did great and charitable works out of compassion and love, rather than merely being martyred for their conviction in their faith. (The exception would be saints who had particularly witty last words; see St. Lawrence.)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Animal_Day
Interestingly enough, it is no coincidence that today is also the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi, the much-beloved Italian monk who founded the monastic order that bears his name, and who is the patron saint of animals, nature, and the environment at large. He's another of my favorite saints; I tend to prefer the ones, I find, who did great and charitable works out of compassion and love, rather than merely being martyred for their conviction in their faith. (The exception would be saints who had particularly witty last words; see St. Lawrence.)
Labels:
animals,
conservation,
humanitarian,
Italy,
nature,
religion,
today
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