Vick's Picks Jan. 2011

Some of my favorite online tidbits:

1. CiviliNation, a research organization dedicated to a hate free, trolling free, libel free, safe and healthy Internet culture. Count me in! Also, check out this publication by eJounarlUSA on Defining Internet Freedom.


2. CSA Interview with Historian Richard Carrier on the historic method and the best (i.e., most proper) way to practice it.


3. The best place on the Internet I know of to learn about Ancient Eastern Philosophy and Religion(s).


4. One of the most useful online resources after Wikipedia, the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, peer-reviewed and checked by professional philosophers with PhD's. Great for researching philosophical theories, concepts, and ideas.


5. LSI Publishing--skip the middle man and self publish! Also, a great article I found on why LSI Publishing ought to be your first choice in self-publishing over at the Publishing Renaissance blog.


6. It's love x magic! It's Ravijour! Basically your Asian version of Victoria's Secret. (Sexy lingerie x Sexy Asian women = love x magic? Interesting math if you ask me).


7. Bare Faced Messiah, Russel Miller's biography on Scientologist founder L. Ron Hubbard. A book so controversial that the Church of Scientology sued Miller on nearly every continent and shut down publication, until that is, Miller released the book online for FREE! The truth is out there.


8. Japan's Pop Empress Ayumi Hamasaki dropped a mega-bomb on her millions of fans and announced her marriage, to the shock of everyone who didn't know she was even in a relationship, to aspiring talent and Austrian born Manuel Schwarz. (Update: Unable to wait she eloped with Schwarz and got married in L.A. wearing nothing but white t-shirts and blue jeans--and the Japanese news won't stop talking about it). This sort of reminds me of Madonna's fling with Antonio Benderas before he learned to speak English. I wish them the best, but I only give it 10 months to a year at most.


9. My kid brother has a blog about costume design, photography, and Mozart! Check it out!


10. Charles Limb's excellent TED Talk on creativity and our brains on music.

Warning: This Religion is rated R

In America video games and movies follow a ratings system. In cinema the MPAA has strict guidelines for films submitted to the organization for review. Now not all films are sent in for review, but they are usually labeled "Unrated" and it is usually implicitly understood that they contain content not suitable for minors.

In America there are G, PG, PG-13, and R rated films. G simply stands for films aimed at General audiences, family friendly films like Shrek. PG stands for Parental Guidance, basically films which are more or less safe but may have some action or violence such as Star Wars and suggests a parent or guardian should accompany their child (be present) when viewing such material. PG-13 is simply an extension of PG increasing the age requirement to thirteen (i.e., the teenage demographic) as such films may have minor swearing, sensual romantic scenes, and slightly more violence. R rated films are Restricted to 17 (years of age) and above. This means the film may have full nudity, excessive language, and may be gruesomely violent.  What this means is that nobody under seventeen should be admitted into the film (most American theaters card you and check your I.D.).

There are also the categories of NC-17 and X rated films which are both deemed pornographic material, that is, they are so extreme in their content that they are simply not for minors, period.

Video game ratings system presided over by the ESRB is very similar to the MPAA’s system. They categorize their titles similarly, from the games aimed at children (e.g., minors) to the games aimed at mature audiences (e.g., adults).

So what does this have to do with religion, you may wonder?

I propose a regulations board to set guidelines for what is suitable religious content. I believe that not all religious content is even suitable for children, and this is supported by the fact that neither does the MPAA. For example, a mere two hour film about Jesus’ life was so awfully violent that even a re-edit of the film still garnered a hard R rating. That’s right folks, the “family friendly” cut of Mel Gibson’s film The Passion of the Christ was still so unsuitable for minors it was still restricted to those over the age of seventeen. Yet churches across America pushed their congregations to theaters, often times even buying out entire screenings of the film! This prompted the famed film critic Roger Ebert to state that the R-rated film merits the MPAA NC-17 rating in a "Movie Answer Man" response, adding that no level-minded parent should ever allow children to see it.

Assuming that a couple hours of a Biblical story could enrage a film critic who is used to watching all sorts of depravity on the big screen to assert such a strong position, it makes one wonder, what other religious content might be deemed unsuitable for minors? A lot actually. Anyone who has read the Bible or Qur’an will know how jam packed with rated R content they really are. Does not the scene from the film A Clockwork Orange where Alex undergoes the Ludovico treatment come to your mind?

Humbly, I offer a simple proposal. We should start a committee or organization to set a standard guidelines practice for suitable religious content and we should regulate that content by deeming it suitable for specific age groups or else restricting it from certain age groups. Like both the MPAA and ESRB I propose a self-regulatory agency which reviews religious content and rates it according to a prior to agreed upon guidelines. I have chosen to call it the RCRB, e.g., the Religious Content Review Board.

Just like the MPAA, which carries no force of local, state, or federal law anywhere in the United States, but merely serves as a consumer suggestion by a group of corporate analysts, in similar fashion, a religious ratings board would also carry no force of local, state, or federal law, thus allowing for the continued free practice of religion. Likewise, as with the MPAA which after screening films, their personal opinions are used to arrive at the aforementioned category of ratings a religious content review board (RCRB) would also review religious content and rate that content accordingly.

Now much like the film industry adhering to the regulatory standard set by the RCRB would be voluntary. However, it would be strongly urged that Religious Institutions submit to review, otherwise risk the penalty of being “unfriendly” or “anti-social” which would not bode well for their public image. Also, much like theater owners agree to enforce corporate film ratings as determined by the MPAA, when minors sneak into an R rated film, the theater where the incident took place will pay a fine. Such a penalty fee should also be mandatory for all religious organizations that join the RCRB.

Such an organization would not only make religious practices and beliefs more transparent within the communities, but it would also be a way to be aware of those religious ideologies which are promoting harmful, dangerous, violent, abusive, controversial and/or offensive material which, traditionally, has all but gone unrestricted simply because of the sacrosanct status religion has so long enjoyed.

Like the Passion narrative of Christ turned to celluloid however, religious stories may one day carry a warning that states: this religious content is rated R—not suitable for anyone under seventeen. I for one believe applying such a regulatory standard would be a step forward in ensuring our children’s safety, not only by offering a way to protect their impressionable minds from harmful religious content, but  at the same time respect people’s right to practice religion.

Palmer's Fallacy

A few days ago Mike over at The A-Unicornist blog wrote an interesting one about a common misconception the religious have with regard to our own conceptualizations, such as the idea that although we can't prove where love comes from doesn't mean there isn't such a thing as love. As if this comparison will ease our doubts about God.

On his blog Mike observes that theists make this analogy quite often:

This sentiment was recently echoed by Rabbi Alan Lurie over at Huffpo, who asks whether God's existence can ever be proven.

The attempt to prove the existence of God through the scientific method of hypothesis, controlled experimentation, observation and documentable repeatable results is somewhat akin to trying to discover the cause of a person's response to a deeply moving work of art. We can examine the painting, analyze the composition of the canvas and pigment, study the arrangement of shapes and colors, discover the historical context of the work and the biography of the artists, or even conduct psychological experiments and CT scans, but none of this will do anything to explain, understand and share in the person's aesthetic experience. This person may try to explain her experience, but she will ultimately fail to convince someone who only sees pigment on canvas, and who may conclude that her experience is delusional, and that the study of aesthetics is a waste of time. To the person who was so deeply impacted by the painting, though, such an assertion completely misses the point, and does nothing to convince her that her experience is not real, and that she was not touched and expanded by her encounter.

Mike adds, "There's a scene in the movie Contact when Ellie, who's an atheist, asks her Christian-philosopher boyfriend Palmer if he can prove God exists. Palmer responds, "Prove you loved your father."

Recently, I re-watched the movie Contact since I hadn't watched it for a couple years now, and I recalled to really have enjoyed it. I wasn't mistaken.

I always thought Palmer's analogy was, in actuality, a false dichotomy. I like to call this Palmer's fallacy anytime a religious person tries to make it.

The fallacy arises when he is comparing a metaphysical concept (the god-concept) to a human emotion. Now emotions are things we can measure scientifically, because anger increases blood pressure, calm reduces it, a palpating (and twitterpated) heart will increase in beats per minute and a lonely person will suffer bouts of depression which can be regulated with drugs, etc. etc. So this is Palmer's first mistake. Science can detect and measure the emotion of love. That means it is testable! This means conceptual love has a referent.

An emotion like love has physiological proof--in that we can actually see the emotion having a measurable effect. The concept of love does not. But then conceptual love is usually complicated by the fact that everyone is bound to have different tastes or different turn-ons, different physiological responses to different things, so this is Palmer's second mistake. The conceptual love is not quantifiable, it's merely abstract, so no two people would ever have the same definition of "love" so it could never be qualified as evidence.

I doubt that religious people who think like Palmer would be willing to admit this about God (even though this is the implicit claim that God is merely experiential--therefore unquantifiable).

The god-concept is not quantifiable for two very important reasons. 1) Even the second kind of conceptual love has a referent in the real world. We can say Romeo love Juliet because we have a story which refers to two young lovers--and we have our own experiences of love which provide experiential knowledge which makes romantic love quantifiable. Whereas God experiences do not have any real-world referent. 2) There are consequences of loving (or not loving) which are subsequent to the emotional response conceptual love invokes. In other words, to say "There's no greater concept than love" is to show an understanding that the concept of love plays a very important role in the practical sense. It's the admission that "love" actually is something worth aspiring to because it has real sway in reality. Thus there are measurable effects. The God concept (unto itself) does not (again because there is not referent to react to or experience--even as many believers make the claim that they experience god daily).

Therefore concepts like "brotherly love" relate to the amount of affection we often have for our friends which rivals that love we share for our siblings, our real life brothers. In such cases it clear to see conceptual love has a real world referent and therefore we have an understanding of what this conceptual "brotherly" love should be like. Even if the concept itself is merely an idea worth aspiring to. When Christians say God loves you, we know what love is, but it is complicated by the fact that we do not know what God is. Often times believers work around this by claiming God is love, or the embodiment of love (i.e., the source of love), but this confuses things because it says the referent for conceptual love is the concept of love itself. Which is a nonstarter.

The problem with Palmer's analogy, as I see it, is that the god-concept doesn't fit either the conceptual or actual varieties of love. It's not testable like real emotional love, it has no direct side effects, no measurable consequences of real existence, therefore cannot be experienced.  However, like conceptual love love it seems everyone has their own definition or understanding of "God" and so the god-concept is not quantifiable, but unlike love actual and conceptual love the god-concept not having any referent makes God's existence even harder (if not impossible) to establish. Therefore it's unlike love for these reasons, thus it's a false dichotomy.

Perhaps I should have prefaced that last comment that god-concepts do not have real world consequences insofar as any religious consequences are not relatable to God proper, rather they are consequences related to belief in god and stem from other factors such as doctrine, dogma, and faith-based infinitives. 

Therefore my objection is maintained, Palmer's analogy is, in fact, a false dichotomy. He's comparing a real-word concept which has a referent with a metaphysical concept without a referent. This is Palmer's fallacy.

Now Ellie merely states that if something like God exists it should have a testable referent, just as conceptual love has a testable referent in emotional love, but since God is wholly without referent he is therefore untestable and is more likely not to exist.

Carl Sagan, however, does a splendid job of deflating the scientists ego when, at the end of the story, Ellie must testify in front of the Supreme Court and confess, to her disappointment, that she has no actual evidence that she experienced what she claims to have experienced (accept she actually did have evidence but did not know it--because as you will recall the video recorded exactly the amount of time she said she was away for). Yet as far as her experience went, there seemed to be no way to justify her having had it--other than through the analogy of religious experience. Which I found to be both moving and beautiful. Here Sagan reminds us that even science can be as emotionally gripping and moving as religious experiences.

Bravo to Sagan for writing that story. Bravo indeed.

Solving the Problem of Theodicy: Evil God Theory

Theodicy--the vindication of divine providence in view of the existence of evil.

Christians posit a Good God created everything, the universe, the world, and the birds and the bees, etc. But we distinctly live in a world with evil in it. There is injustice, great suffering, pain both physical and mental. The Problem of Evil is the whole reason that the theological consideration of theodicy becomes such a conundrum for Christians--because not only do they have to answer for the evil in the world, but they must also explain why a Good God would allow for it.

Theologians do this in various ways, most frequently invoking free will as an excuse to bring about original sin and through sin the perishing of the world along with all the evils which come along with it. Yet this line of reasoning fails to account for the suffering of animals or that suffering which is caused by natural disasters such as hurricanes, tsunamis, mine shaft collapses, so on and so forth.

Another common objection is the so-called problem of good (the inverse of the problem of evil) which basically states that there is good in the world so how can you account for it unless God was at least partially good? Never mind that evil is naturally occurring, such as suffering and pain, whereas good events are not naturally occurring--that is to say nature remains indifferent to our happiness and well being (a fine day is not sunny and warm just to make you happy but the wind could very well blow over a tree which comes crashing down on you causing you severe pain and even crippling injuries).

However, before they can even get to this point in the argument they have to justify all sort of strange theological exegesis to justify an unfounded metaphysical claim (i.e., that sin is real) and often choose to ignore any criticisms which may find fault in their fly by night theories. But I have a possible solution--a much simpler theory--an inference which not only accounts for why there is evil in the world but will still allow for the possibility of God.

Here's my theory, take it or leave it.

Putting aside esoteric theological considerations, ad hoc harmonizations, and poorly conceived Christian apologetics, minus all the ifs and buts, I am inclined to agree with Stephen Law, namely that the best explanation which does away with the problem of theodicy is that God is evil! Before you get bent out of shape hear me out. If God is *all good--then the creation of a world where evil, pain, and suffering are all very real is a major problem (since no all loving or just being would allow for it to begin with) which means one of two things: either believers are completely wrong about the nature of God (i.e., God is not all good), or their God simply does not exist (i.e., pain and suffering exist in a natural world apart from supernatural entities or metaphysical states).

Now the theory of a capricious, pernicious, or even malevolent God explains why there would be evil in the world and therefore explains away the Problem of Evil.

Most Christians, I think, will object to the fact that God (as they understand it) could be evil. Sure, I'll go with them on this (assuming the God of the Bible is not the best representation of God), but then, this means the best inference which accounts for evil in the world is that God is non-existent. Oops! Pain and suffering do (undeniably) exist in a naturalistic universe and often have regrettable consequences, and thus the Problem of Evil is a bane for the theologian and a boon for the atheist. Indeed, it seems to be positive evidence (via induction) that minus God we know that evil would still exist and we know this to be true (via deduction) because we are stricken by evils daily. So no amount of appealing to God's goodness will solve the problem or explain away the contradiction.

Changing the definition of God (by redefining his character as to allow for evil, etc.) merely appeals to the first objection, that believers simply haven't understood the nature of their God, and in ad hoc fashion, must change their definition of God to work around the problem. This is, contrary to what they may believe, strong evidence that they have no real (or clear) understanding of God (should he exist) and therefore their claim of God's "goodness" is without support. Yet having failed to establish a believable concept of God which simultaneously accounts for the problem gives them no basis for support that their concept of God is even very practical, meaning that the very existence of evil fully negates their concept of God (and changing the way they define God only reinforces the dilemma). Thus we are left with option number two as being the more probable one: no *actual God exists.

In conclusion, Theodicy and the Problem of Evil leads to one of two possibilities, both antithetical to Christian belief, either 1) God is capricious, pernicious, perhaps even evil or else 2) God is non-existent. Knowing this we should have no problem rejecting the notion of evil-theism any more than we would a theism which posits a good God but is logically and philosophically incoherent.

The Bible Geek Exegete!

One of my favorite theologians and biblical historians Bob Price does a wonderful podcast about NT Criticism. Price answers questions and emails about all things related to the Bible. It's very insightful, it packed full of information, and capture's Price's unique and quirky sense of humor as he addresses your concerns. Some of the best exegesis you'll find online by a professional scholar, so please, be sure to check it out!

This weeks overview: Does Margaret Barker reject the JEDP theory? Does Minimalism undermine it? Did OT people believe in an afterlife? How about other Canaanites? Did NT era Jews keep genealogical records? Does the Bible really teach eternal punishment? Counter-cultural self-congratulations of self-styled radical Christians and why they vilify America. How could the ancient rabbis have canonized a scripture filled with various viewpoints and philosophies? Rabbi Tovia Singer's claim that only the LXX Pentateuch was translated by Jews, the rest being the later work of Christians, and that "parthenos" did not mean exclusively "intact virgin." Did Jesus have to go to the bathroom? Mark Goodacre's argument that Luke knew but rejected Matthew's nativity story.

A not so Christmassy X'Mas!

Here's the breakdown of my Christmas in Japan. It's more or less the same secular, non-Christian, holiday I've been celebrating for the last five years.

It starts with a light show in Shobara, where the illuminations dazzles our weary eyes with twinkle lights. The frigid air nips at our cheeks and we retreat to a 400 year old Japanese styled tavern where we sit in a warm kotatsu (obviously a recent renovation from 400 years ago) although the actual pit fire rages on by the entrance. We eat a lovely zenzai (mochi rice dumplings in red sweet bean soup) which is a traditional winter food in Japan (i.e., think of hot chocolate).

Christmas day we head to Amakusa (famous for the Christian revolt lead by Shiro Amakusa in 1638). There's your Christian part in my Christmas. While in Amakusa we stop off for lunch at a new seafood restaurant. It was about $15 dollars for an amazing Japanese style platter. Then we head to the boat, which has been sitting in the bay with a rundown battery. After putting around the bay for a while, the white caps getting to high for a local trawler, we head back into shore. 

Returning home we get ready to head out to the Ringer Hut, a champon fast food franchise where I eat one of my favorite Japanese styled food, a Nagasaki dish called sara-udon (but it's not udon). It's basically champon styled sauce mixed with a cabbage stir-fry and pored over crunchy fried noodles. It's delectable! 

After dinner, still a little hungry, we stop by a yaki-tori vendor and buy some grilled chicken out of the back of a van. I know what you're thinking... sounds a little dodgy... but they're everywhere in Japan and it's well worth it. Standing in the cold eating hot chicken styled kabobs. I wash mine down with a cold Coke I retrieved from the vending machine. A Santa Claus adorns my cola, reminding me what I had almost forgot, today was Christmas.

(P.S. Christmas is not a holiday in Japan--so normally everyone is at work. But this year Christmas fell on the weekend.)


Happy Holidays Everyone!

Onus unto Proof

Religious people never cease to amaze me when it comes to their ability to reverse the burden of proof. But they must be careful not to make this mistake for a couple of reasons. First, it’s bad form when you’re involved in a dialectic which relies on formal logic to suddenly disregard the rules of logic in your favor simply to shift the burden of proof off you (even as you’re supposed to be defending your claim). Secondly, it’s a form of denial. “Oh yeah, well you can’t not prove that fairies at the bottom of my garden don’t not exist!”

When faced with stubborn believers who think the onus is on the atheist to prove that [G]od *doesn’t exist, I think they’ve missed the point of the argument they are trying to make (which makes them look like they don’t actually know what they are talking about—which does not reflect well in their favor). You can’t make a positive claim (a claim which affirms something) then turn around and expect someone else to prove a negative (a claim which hasn’t affirmed anything). It’s illogical—and shows an inability to reason properly.

This is why atheists will often remind believers that, not only is the burden of proof on the one making the claim, but also that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Extraordinary evidence is whatever evidence would be required to sufficiently prove an extraordinary claim.


For example, say I was in possession of antique oil lamp, but not just some ordinary lamp, a special magic lamp with a magic genie inside! Now supposing I told you that this magic genie inside would grant you three wishes if you rubbed the lamp, what sort of evidence would you need to prove such an extraordinary claim?


Simply put, you'd need to produce either the genie or support your claims by fulfilling three wishes which could only be performed by said genie. In the end evidence is evidence, but the grander the claim the more demanding of a need to support that claim. It's as simple as that.

Personally, I like to use the comparison of a magic genie in a lamp because it is analogous to the [G]od-concept which theists posit in favor of the existence of [G]od. It’s not your obligation to disprove that I don’t have a magic genie any more than it’s my obligation to prove that God does not exist. *You not being able to prove my magic genie does not ever enter the equation, because we both know, there is no evidence for magic genies which would establish their existence in reality. The same can be said for the existence of [G]od.

Moreover, it’s not your burden to prove to me that there are no such things as magic lamps with genies inside, because we all know that you’re not the one claiming to have a magic genie—I am, and since I am making the incredible claim I am the one with the sole burden to prove my claim true.

The way we prove something true is by using science. Science is the intellectual and practical activity encompassing the systematic study of the structure and behavior of the physical and natural world through observation and experiment (Oxford Dictionary of English 2005). So if you want to prove something is *real, then you use science. If science fails to establish any consequential effect, either directly or indirectly, of what it is you propose exists—then chances are you may want to re-evaluate your claims. That is, we must fit our theories to the facts (not the other way around).

Recently the comedian and outspoken atheist Ricky Gervais made a very good point on this subject when he stated:

Science doesn’t concern itself with the non-existence of something. The periodic table of imaginary things would be too big for a classroom- infinitely big in fact, and rather pointless. It’s not trying to prove the non-existence of anything supernatural. All it knows is there is no scientific proof of anything supernatural so far.

I couldn’t have put it better myself. Indeed, it is precisely because there is no evidence for magic genies in lamps, or for that matter [G]od, that we can’t just assume the existence of magic genies or God. As science would seem to suggest, when it comes to supernatural things the best stance we could presume to take with regard to their existence is one of agnosticism. Agnosticism being the default position then makes it rather presumptuous to claim that the supernatural is real (minus the evidence) and it is more than a little bit mistaken to assume the burden to prove *your claim is on everyone else.

Proving things exist, on the other hand, is easy when it, in point of fact, actually exists. I can very easily prove to you that I have an apple sitting on my desk next to me as I write. I could describe it to you, take a picture of it, or better yet film a video of me eating it and then post it on YouTube. Of course, if this fits with your experiences eating apples, and other people who can corroborate and confirm it fits their experience of what eating apples is like, then chances are I really did have an apple (which I then ate). Proving that my genie in a lamp has magic powers and will grant you three wishes if you rub it a little bit requires a whole lot more evidence than I am capable of producing as to even make my claim believable. The same goes for the existence of [God].

That fact that proving things exist is (typically) easy doubly confounds believers because, as they well know, if their idea of [G]od actually had a referent then their claims would be much easier to support—in fact their claims would be so well backed by a superfluous amount of evidence as to constitute as obvious if not completely undeniable. But to the chagrin of the believer, the reality of the situation is, the concept of [G]od has no empirical basis for support (in reality). 

In Law there is a scale of evidence which leads one to make the informed decision before presiding on a verdict. It’s no surprise that evidence for [G]od lies at the bottom of the scale—not even a scintilla of evidence. So before theists can even presume to have won the verdict on the [G]od debate they first have to make their case—and this does require producing genuine evidence. No evidence means no case can be made, and this is exactly where we find arguments for the existence for [G]od today—they just don’t pass muster.

Meanwhile, the claim that [G]od is transcendent, that he exists beyond space and time, simply is an admission that [G]od cannot be proved to exist—and thus the theist shoots themselves in the foot by making their idea of [G]od wholly untenable, because they have now made it impossible (even for themselves) to prove whether or not he actually exists. Many theologians bemoan the fact that atheists don’t take the transcendental argument seriously, but we don’t take it seriously for these reasons, it’s not reasonable let alone even plausible—and all it seems to do is safeguard the [G]od-concept from being disconfirmed entirely (i.e., it is a way to salvage the mere idea of [G]od).  Even so, the standard for what is reasonable to believe has been set by science, and where there is deficient (or a complete absence) of evidence one must tacitly admit that, as a consequence, there can be no real reason to believe in unsubstantiated claims other than the fact that they want to believe—that is to say the transcendental argument merely allows for a way for the believer affirm a belief in belief (even as [G]od proves to be imaginary).

In conclusion I find no good reason to believe in the concept of [G]od. In a world with working logic and the powerful methods of science the [G]od-concept grows more and more tenuous by the day. The more knowledge we accrue the more difficult it becomes to affirm, let alone establish, feasible reasons to believe. On top of all this, the fact that theists (from all faiths) have failed to meet the basic standards of proof shows that they are simply whistling into the wind, and perhaps, would like to rethink things before they (predictably) try and reverse the burden of proof.