I don't really know why I'm feeling the need to right this, I am just annoyed about something and feel the need to vent. That something is the death of the abortionist George Tiller.
Now let's get a few things out of the way: I'm catholic and pro-life, but I also believe in the sanctify of life. That applies to EVERYONE, even abortionists.
I've heard alot from both sides, "christians" arguing that it's okay since he murders babies, pro-choice people arguing that this perfectly demonstrates pro-"life" hypocrisy, and other such silly statements. I'd specifically like to address christians who think this was a good thing, becuase I get really sick of having to answer for all the idiots out there.
Look. People. The ends do NOT justify the means. I know all about the principle of double effect and the need to defend human life, but unless he is actively killing a child when you shot him, it is morally WRONG. And Dr Tiller wasn't. He was in church when he was killed.
This is murder, plain and simple.
So let me make this clear: I do not CARE that he was an abortionist. I do not CARE about arguments about a greater good. I do not CARE that he was responsible for the death of countless children.
Unless you are actively defending a life, it is still morally unacceptable.
And that goes double for Pastor Drake who prayed for Obama's death on Fox News.
I really wish "christians" would stop making idiots of themselves.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Some Thoughts
Here is an e-mail written to a good friend of mine, thought y'all might find it interesting. Love to hear some feedback and counter-arguments, if you have any.
1. The Problem of Moral Evil: As I remember the argument, it goes something like this.
A. There is Evil in the world.
B. If God is able to prevent it, but not willing, then he is malicious.
C. If God is unable to prevent it, but willing, then he is weak.
D. If God is neither able nor willing, then why call Him God?
E. If God is both able and willing, then why is there evil?
Conclusion: In none of those four possible cases exists a benevolent God, ergo, one does not exist.
I've never really thought much of this argument, mainly because I think (B) is false, and pretty obviously false at that. Maliciousness is not the only possible motive, one need only look at the relation of parents to children to discover that. Parents certainly permit evil to befall their children or even to be committed by their children out of respect for their autonomy. The classical Christian explanation to this dilemma is Free Will. I remember talking about the conflict between God's omniscience and our Free Choice with you, and you made the fantastic point that for Free Will to be anything more than an illusion, one HAS to be able to choose differently.
Similarly, Evil almost HAS to be a possible alternative if Free Will exists. The ability to make choices necessarily implies the ability to make BAD choices as well as good ones.
The existence of free will is almost prima facie and thus I won't dwell on it except to note that determinism is both infalsifiable and in a practical sense completely useless.
As I was writing this, I thought of a counter-question for the Atheist. Granted that Free Will exists, but the Problem of Evil is perhaps MORE of a problem to atheists than theists. For theists at least admit eternal standards of good/evil, while if an atheist did, I think he would have no ground to stand on. Therefore, (A) is quite a problem to an atheist. Why is there Evil?
In fact, (and I"ll maybe get to this in another e-mail), I think that any kind of absolute moral standard (and I think there is one, and if I remember correctly you think so too) is a huge problem for an atheist.
2. The Problem of Physical Evil
The argument is extremely similar to the first, but I don't feel comfortable grouping them together since moral evil is quite obviously very separate from physical evil, and they have different causes.
I admit, I haven't studied this much, so my thoughts on the matter may appear disorderly and illogical. Don't worry, they probably are. The problem is that physical evil is really a misnomer. Earthquakes, etc, are simply natural products of nature. You have a hurricane due to air pressure and several other things, earthquakes due to shifting fault-lines, etc. Purely physical phenomenon cannot, really, be good or evil in a christian sense, since there is no will behind them.
So the acts themselves aren't problematic, but the human suffering caused by them is. The problem for the theist is huge, for the atheist not at all. Why would God permit such arbitrary physical suffering? It seems almost inevitable that God is malicious.
Again, I don't think that is the only possible explanation. I'm not perfectly satisfied with what I think is the Christian one, but here it is: God permits physical suffering because our physical existence is only temporary, and the spiritual benefits possible from suffering far outweigh any physical detriments. Among these spiritual benefits include the real possibility to develop virtues, many of which almost cannot exist except in danger and torment. Hope, for instance, can only exist when the situation really is hopeless. Charity, for instance, can only really exist when the situation is dire. Prudence too, cannot exist except in the real possibility of danger. And so on.
The other explanation I've heard involves original sin: With the fall of man came (in some sense) the fall of creation, and just as moral evil came into the world as a result of our choice so did physical evil. I don't know much about this argument so I can't flesh it out very well, but it comes from the idea that creation is a whole, and the fall of mankind would similarly adversely affect creation.
Like I said, I'm not really satisfied with that, but there it is.
3. Multiplicity of Religions
This argument (to simplify it) goes something like this:
A. There have been (probably) millions of ideas about God.
B. The probability of any one idea being correct is vanishingly small.
C. The probability of Catholicism (or substitute any specific religion) being correct is vanishingly small.
There are a lot of problems with this argument. (A) is undeniable, but it doesn't pose a problem for the theist. Obviously if there is a God people will have many different ideas about Him, some closer to the truth than others. People will debate and disagree and pose various theologies, and that's perfectly natural in an attempt to explain and discover something real. But (A) is a real problem for atheists, because if there is no God, why have the vast majority of people throughout history (for good reasons or bad) been convinced that there is one? Richard Dawkins once proposed that it was an evolutionary advantage, but I don't think that holds water at all. Obviously a belief in a complete falsehood is a bad thing, particularly one that encourages people to be somewhat cavalier about physical existence.
1. The Problem of Moral Evil: As I remember the argument, it goes something like this.
A. There is Evil in the world.
B. If God is able to prevent it, but not willing, then he is malicious.
C. If God is unable to prevent it, but willing, then he is weak.
D. If God is neither able nor willing, then why call Him God?
E. If God is both able and willing, then why is there evil?
Conclusion: In none of those four possible cases exists a benevolent God, ergo, one does not exist.
I've never really thought much of this argument, mainly because I think (B) is false, and pretty obviously false at that. Maliciousness is not the only possible motive, one need only look at the relation of parents to children to discover that. Parents certainly permit evil to befall their children or even to be committed by their children out of respect for their autonomy. The classical Christian explanation to this dilemma is Free Will. I remember talking about the conflict between God's omniscience and our Free Choice with you, and you made the fantastic point that for Free Will to be anything more than an illusion, one HAS to be able to choose differently.
Similarly, Evil almost HAS to be a possible alternative if Free Will exists. The ability to make choices necessarily implies the ability to make BAD choices as well as good ones.
The existence of free will is almost prima facie and thus I won't dwell on it except to note that determinism is both infalsifiable and in a practical sense completely useless.
As I was writing this, I thought of a counter-question for the Atheist. Granted that Free Will exists, but the Problem of Evil is perhaps MORE of a problem to atheists than theists. For theists at least admit eternal standards of good/evil, while if an atheist did, I think he would have no ground to stand on. Therefore, (A) is quite a problem to an atheist. Why is there Evil?
In fact, (and I"ll maybe get to this in another e-mail), I think that any kind of absolute moral standard (and I think there is one, and if I remember correctly you think so too) is a huge problem for an atheist.
2. The Problem of Physical Evil
The argument is extremely similar to the first, but I don't feel comfortable grouping them together since moral evil is quite obviously very separate from physical evil, and they have different causes.
I admit, I haven't studied this much, so my thoughts on the matter may appear disorderly and illogical. Don't worry, they probably are. The problem is that physical evil is really a misnomer. Earthquakes, etc, are simply natural products of nature. You have a hurricane due to air pressure and several other things, earthquakes due to shifting fault-lines, etc. Purely physical phenomenon cannot, really, be good or evil in a christian sense, since there is no will behind them.
So the acts themselves aren't problematic, but the human suffering caused by them is. The problem for the theist is huge, for the atheist not at all. Why would God permit such arbitrary physical suffering? It seems almost inevitable that God is malicious.
Again, I don't think that is the only possible explanation. I'm not perfectly satisfied with what I think is the Christian one, but here it is: God permits physical suffering because our physical existence is only temporary, and the spiritual benefits possible from suffering far outweigh any physical detriments. Among these spiritual benefits include the real possibility to develop virtues, many of which almost cannot exist except in danger and torment. Hope, for instance, can only exist when the situation really is hopeless. Charity, for instance, can only really exist when the situation is dire. Prudence too, cannot exist except in the real possibility of danger. And so on.
Like I said, I'm not really satisfied with that, but there it is.
3. Multiplicity of Religions
This argument (to simplify it) goes something like this:
A. There have been (probably) millions of ideas about God.
B. The probability of any one idea being correct is vanishingly small.
C. The probability of Catholicism (or substitute any specific religion) being correct is vanishingly small.
There are a lot of problems with this argument. (A) is undeniable, but it doesn't pose a problem for the theist. Obviously if there is a God people will have many different ideas about Him, some closer to the truth than others. People will debate and disagree and pose various theologies, and that's perfectly natural in an attempt to explain and discover something real. But (A) is a real problem for atheists, because if there is no God, why have the vast majority of people throughout history (for good reasons or bad) been convinced that there is one? Richard Dawkins once proposed that it was an evolutionary advantage, but I don't think that holds water at all. Obviously a belief in a complete falsehood is a bad thing, particularly one that encourages people to be somewhat cavalier about physical existence.
However, to get back to the argument, (B) is false, and therefore (C) is as well. It's silly to talk about probabilities, as if somehow all these theories are equally probable. They aren't. You don't speak of a multiplicity of scientific theories that way, and it's silly to talk of philosophical theories that way too. The thing to do is to look at the evidence. I find that Christian philosophy explains a great deal very well, while belief in Thor explains only the existence of lightning.
Because of this, it's foolish to criticize a religion for being one of many. Criticize it for being illogical, or philosophically stupid, but not simply for existing alongside many others.
4. Size of the Universe
A. The universe is huge, mankind's dominion taking a very small part of it.
B. Therefore it is extremely improbable that it is specifically created for mankind.
C. Since it is probably not specifically created for mankind, any idea of God creating it for mankind is similarly improbable.
Again, (A) is undeniable, but (B) and (C) are false. The size of the universe (or really the size of anything) has no relation to the importance or purpose of it. B does not really follow from A. Additionally, I can immediately think of theistic explanations of its size. Perhaps the universe is so big because the end of the world (or whatever) isn't coming for quite some time, and mankind needs quite a lot of room to expand. Or so on. Perhaps the laws of nature that make Earth inhabitable also make the universe a huge place.
But that is all just counter explanations, the point is that there is no logical connection between premise A and premise B and thus this is a bad argument.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
On Revision
I just finished a second draft of my current novel opus (working title: THE FORKED ROAD). I've done tons of work--this new drafts includes at least 50,000 words of newly written material, replacing much that was deleted, alongside many smaller changes, including a fairly significant restructuring effort in the early chapters.
Revision is a funny process. When I read a published novel, the text is finalized in the physical form of paper and ink, and (if the novel is at all good), forms a cohesive whole, one chapter proceeding naturally from the next in (usually) chronological order. I experience the story through linear progression from front cover to back cover, and each page added on brings fresh information to add to the story unrolling in my head.
I really do believe that a book, rather than being a story as such, is a set of instructions for the reader to create a story in his head. The instructions vary in detail--compare an 800 page fantasy epic to Hemingway's six word "story": "For sale. Baby shoes. Never used." The former likely provides extensive descriptions of nearly everything, from precise fencing maneuvers to character eye colors and weather, whereas the second (IMHO) isn't so much a story as a writing prompt.
This is, I think, why different readers can have such different impressions of the same book. Often, in response to a negative review of a book they loved, people will say "I wonder if we read the same book".
Which makes revision a funny process for me, especially the kind where I delete scenes wholesale and insert new ones in their place, significantly altering such whimsical entities as character arc and mood alongside the basics of creating good prose and readable dialogue. I also don't necessarily work in linear order--I might be fine-tuning the emotional conclusion of a character's romantic story one day, then working on that character's first appearance the next. I'm forced to consider the book as a malleable entity, all its parts--the raw text I'm working with--in a state of constant shift, striving towards the story I truly want it to convey. I have to consider left-to-right reading progression, but also transcend it so that the book makes a rational whole. In a way, it's like the Catholic formulation for God's view of time--God is not bound by "past" and "future", but because he exists outside chronology, he sees all things simply as "being".
Essentially, the revising author must hold in stasis the reader's viewpoint--cover to cover, left-to-right, as the novel is meant to be experienced--with the more transcendent point of view necessary for a craftsman.
Stray thoughts from a brain driven by four hours of sleep, Mountain Dew, and a rather good bacon, egg, and cheese croissant sandwich.
Revision is a funny process. When I read a published novel, the text is finalized in the physical form of paper and ink, and (if the novel is at all good), forms a cohesive whole, one chapter proceeding naturally from the next in (usually) chronological order. I experience the story through linear progression from front cover to back cover, and each page added on brings fresh information to add to the story unrolling in my head.
I really do believe that a book, rather than being a story as such, is a set of instructions for the reader to create a story in his head. The instructions vary in detail--compare an 800 page fantasy epic to Hemingway's six word "story": "For sale. Baby shoes. Never used." The former likely provides extensive descriptions of nearly everything, from precise fencing maneuvers to character eye colors and weather, whereas the second (IMHO) isn't so much a story as a writing prompt.
This is, I think, why different readers can have such different impressions of the same book. Often, in response to a negative review of a book they loved, people will say "I wonder if we read the same book".
Which makes revision a funny process for me, especially the kind where I delete scenes wholesale and insert new ones in their place, significantly altering such whimsical entities as character arc and mood alongside the basics of creating good prose and readable dialogue. I also don't necessarily work in linear order--I might be fine-tuning the emotional conclusion of a character's romantic story one day, then working on that character's first appearance the next. I'm forced to consider the book as a malleable entity, all its parts--the raw text I'm working with--in a state of constant shift, striving towards the story I truly want it to convey. I have to consider left-to-right reading progression, but also transcend it so that the book makes a rational whole. In a way, it's like the Catholic formulation for God's view of time--God is not bound by "past" and "future", but because he exists outside chronology, he sees all things simply as "being".
Essentially, the revising author must hold in stasis the reader's viewpoint--cover to cover, left-to-right, as the novel is meant to be experienced--with the more transcendent point of view necessary for a craftsman.
Stray thoughts from a brain driven by four hours of sleep, Mountain Dew, and a rather good bacon, egg, and cheese croissant sandwich.
Friday, May 29, 2009
A few days ago when Thomas was toying with the Rubik's Cube a interesting question came up. Will a set series of moves repeated eventually bring the Cube back to the origin arrangement? I thought about the question for a bit, and responded that it would. I'm curious if anyone also had any thoughts on the subject-- and if you're not interested, I'm not surprised in the least.
My thoughts about the problem were as follows, and for simplicity's sake I will refer to the origin arrangement as "solved."
Hypothesis(1): That any set of moves of an arbitrary size will, upon repetition, bring the cube back to solved.
Proof:
Assume(1): That there is a set of moves that will, upon repetition, never solve the cube.
Assume(2): This set of moves will never find a non-solved arrangement a second time.
Fact: There is a finite number of states for the cube.
Fact: If that move set was done more times than that number, it would find a non-solved arrangement a second time.
Conc(1): Assume(2) is false.
Assume(3): This set of moves can visit a non-solved arrangement any amount of times without visiting the solved state a second time.
Fact: If we treat this non-solved arrangement as the origin and do the move the proper amount of times, it will visit this arrangement again.
Conc(2): Assume(1) is false.
Fact: If Assume(1) is false, Hypothesis(1) is true.
Conc(3): Hypothesis(1) is true.
Conclusion:
Any given set of moves, upon repetition, will bring the state of the cube back to the origin state. It just might take a very, very long time.
More interesting questions, some of which beyond my level.
1. What is the set of moves which takes the shortest to terminate?
2. The longest?
3. What is the set of moves which visits the smallest amount of permutations before termination?
4. The largest amount?
The first and third I can answer. The set of moves for both cases is any one face-turn repeated four times, it only requires one application (1) and only visits one state (3).
Any thoughts on questions 2 and 4? Criticisms of my logic? Random comments?
My thoughts about the problem were as follows, and for simplicity's sake I will refer to the origin arrangement as "solved."
Hypothesis(1): That any set of moves of an arbitrary size will, upon repetition, bring the cube back to solved.
Proof:
Assume(1): That there is a set of moves that will, upon repetition, never solve the cube.
Assume(2): This set of moves will never find a non-solved arrangement a second time.
Fact: There is a finite number of states for the cube.
Fact: If that move set was done more times than that number, it would find a non-solved arrangement a second time.
Conc(1): Assume(2) is false.
Assume(3): This set of moves can visit a non-solved arrangement any amount of times without visiting the solved state a second time.
Fact: If we treat this non-solved arrangement as the origin and do the move the proper amount of times, it will visit this arrangement again.
Conc(2): Assume(1) is false.
Fact: If Assume(1) is false, Hypothesis(1) is true.
Conc(3): Hypothesis(1) is true.
Conclusion:
Any given set of moves, upon repetition, will bring the state of the cube back to the origin state. It just might take a very, very long time.
More interesting questions, some of which beyond my level.
1. What is the set of moves which takes the shortest to terminate?
2. The longest?
3. What is the set of moves which visits the smallest amount of permutations before termination?
4. The largest amount?
The first and third I can answer. The set of moves for both cases is any one face-turn repeated four times, it only requires one application (1) and only visits one state (3).
Any thoughts on questions 2 and 4? Criticisms of my logic? Random comments?
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Livin' the Dream
So I seem to have settled into a routine. Get up at 7, work from 8 to 4:30 with cool folks in a cool place with a great view, get home and watch Dr Who, eat dinner, talk about Chesterton with grandparents, lose badly at bridge, and watch more Dr Who before finally sleeping.
Yep.
This is the good life.
Yep.
This is the good life.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Two sides of the mirror
Just a brief note to add that, in addition to posting here, I'm going to try to resurrect my old blog. Things there will primarily be devoted to my writing (perhaps including short pieces and writing exercises), as well as cross-posts from here. I just posted an item about a story I have coming out this June.
Peace, all!
Peace, all!
I'm not sure what to think of the above. . .on the one hand, I'm a sucker for lace-and-blade/Victorian era adventures (in fact, I'd welcome recommendations!)--it's one of the reasons I've often wished someone would reprint Teresa Edgerton's Goblin Moon.
On the other hand, I've never really thought of Holmes as a two-fisted action hero. When the old boy did get involved in violence (as in the climaxes of The Sign of Four and The Hound of the Baskervilles), it was usually settled with a quick volley of revolver fire. Sure, he grappled Moriarty on the edge of a cliff, but didn't _exactly_ emerge victorious.
On the other hand, if I go in knowing that it's "inspired by" rather than "adapted from", I just might enjoy this flick.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)