On Video Game Tactics as an Old Man

In honour of the new Xbox’s release this coming morning, I dug out an old blog post I never finished writing, and thought I'd chuck a rough version of it up here.
Enjoy!:

I have become quite addicted of late to the hand picked articles over at Longform, and today I read a great article about Obama’s actions in Libya, which it got me thinking, of all things, about how I play video games.

The article is a profile of United States president Barack Obama, in which the author seeks to explain Obama's leadership style through an analysis of a few key moments in the first half of his presidency. Its main focus is on the very public decision for the United States to intervene militarily in Libya. However it intersperses this with another angle of the presidents approach toward tackling complex situations by discussing his strategy going into the weekly game of basketball he organises with other members of his government.
In the lead up to the article proper, the writer goes over Obama's explanation of how his style of play has had to change over the years as his abilities reflected his age. One paragraph in particular stuck in my mind:

“What happens is, as I get older, the chances I’m going to play well go down. When I was 30 there was, like, a one-in-two chance. By the time I was 40 it was more like one in three or one in four.” He used to focus on personal achievement, but as he can no longer achieve so much personally, he’s switched to trying to figure out how to make his team win. In his decline he’s maintaining his relevance and sense of purpose.

This line of thinking reminds me of how I play games like Halo or Battlefield. In particular why I like playing team oriented games, rather than the helter skelter frenzy of a free for all.
Let me explain.
Though I may not be that aged yet (It seems that as the average gamers age has increased each year, so has mine; so things work out nicely), I nevertheless do feel that there is an immense advantage for the youth when it comes to playing video games. First of all, they have more time to play. I remember fondly spending hours and hours with friends perfecting every possible circuit in games like Super Mario Kart, or stealthily stalking opponents on GoldenEye, to the point that tense stalemates ran into hours of rigging proximity mines, or sniping the sharp edged polygons of a crouched individual, trying their best to remain in the small shadow profile we had each mentally mapped.

We've come a long way baby

In addition to this extra training time, the younger gaming population is also able to capitalise on their apparent quicker reflexes, and as a result, an uncanny ability to hone their aim when compared to mine.
Now I have never been much of a long distance fighter as it is (give me a shotgun and melee any day), but I can still sense the disparity in aim, and thus accuracy, when a battle gets going.
So a while ago I decided that I would not let this asymmetry get me down. Whatever I may now lack in youthful spry, I can more than make up for in guile, strategy and determination.
I may not be able to stroll through a battlefield picking off my enemies with uncanny headshots as my opponents often do. However these days when I burst on stage I can assure you that, though I tend to go down in a hail of bullets, when my charge is complete and the dust has settled, the opposing team is well aware of it, and generally worse for wear because of it.

There is no I in team, and thus there should be no ego on the battlefield. More often than not I notice younger gamers tend to be glory hogs, they go for the highest score for themselves, regardless of the team's situation. They grab whatever weapon they desire, and assert that they are the best at whatever endeavour they are undertaking.

More often than not this comes to mind..

I pick team based games because I like the strategy. I like looking at what is happening in a game, and figuring out the best plan of attack to turn the tide in my teams favour. Perhaps someone needs suppressive fire, or maybe just a charge into the open to distract the other side. Either way these actions are rarely major points getterson their own, but add up these plays as an overall game plan, and you soon find yourself rising to the top of your teams leaderboard, and aiding the overall probability of a victory.

This is the kind of maneuvering that doesn't see as appealing from a single player point of view. But harrying one's opponents is just as important as taking them out, or capturing the flag.

They always say know your enemy, and what enemy truly hits home more than one’s own weaknesses? At the end of the day it is about knowing your own limitations, and accepting that though the playing field is not even, the bumps and troughs it provides can just as easily substitute for cover as they do for hindrance.

Coming full circle this whole thing reminds me of my own days playing basketball.
I remember the emphasis always on who got the baskets, especially as our coach’s son was the tallest, and thus the officially sanctioned team strategy was ‘throw it to Matt’
After games my mum would always compliment me on my movements on the court.
“You're always where you need to be”, she would say; “they just don’t pass it the way they should”.

These days at least I know where I need to be, and the initiative is on me to make the most of this position.

Write What You Know

Write what you know. This is often advice given to people who want to write, but don’t quite know where to start. Some may have ambition to spare, but can’t quite get things rolling, or when they do, they find it careening off in a direction that they are unhappy with. To write what one knows is supposed to help corral ones prose into a direction that they can competently remark on, and give a detailed, and hopefully cogent, piece of writing at the end of the day.

This, like many things, is all good in theory.

I love writing, and I want to write more and more as the days go on. I find myself in the curious situation of wanting to write, and (I think) improving my writing every day, and yet I have nothing to write about. I am not in school or university anymore, I don’t have a job that requires me to utilise any of the things I have been learning about the proper application of the English language (indeed, I have been told to tone down my use of ‘big words’, lest people don’t know what I am talking about).

So in the past when I didn’t want to write, I had essays demanded of me. Yet now when I have a desire to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard), I have an annoying lack of venues to expend this on.

That is of course, how things look on the outside. Luckily for me, there is this wonderful thing we call the internet, and the proliferation of tools now available to help me write and put my words out there, regardless of the lack of interest, and lonesome chirping of crickets that await me.

But again I face the conundrum of what to write.

So far I have managed to fill the page with three hundred words of blather, yet a growing word count doesn’t give the same sense of satisfaction as it did in the old days, when I judged my writing solely on its ability to reach the teachers prescribed word limit. Now I want my writing to have a purpose.

So I fall back on to the mantra of writing what I know, only to realise that like a more true to the point Socrates, I know next to nothing. I am aware of the limitations of my knowledge, but this awareness doesn’t really offer any further avenues for me to traipse down.

I know a little about a lot of things, but there are a lot of things I know little about. Two statements that appear very similar, but paint contrasting pictures.

Perhaps this is why for my last NaNoWriMo I focused on a science fiction setting. True there can be a lot of reality packed into such tales; they are after all generally populated by people, with the same virtues and vices known to us. But at the end of the day if you are so inclined you can cram your story full of spaceships, robots and other such distractions in order to invent your own field of expertise. In this sense it is now only important to know what you write, as once thing that is paramount for such self-contained and speculative worlds is a firm sense of consistency.

And so, with my ersatz relaunching of this blog the past day, I will seize this opportunity to refocus the purpose of my blog more explicitly. It is not just an outlet for my thoughts, or a place that I can share some latest news story with my unqualified opinion. Rather it is a place for me to indulge in my passion for writing, and hopefully to help me find what it is I should be writing about.

Thus I am taking a somewhat converse and convoluted position from the title of this post; I am writing in order to find out what I know, so that I can write more effectively.

I hope this will be in some way enjoyable for you too valued reader, and look forward to hearing from you, should the need arise.

Cheers,

MM

Dawkins v Pell: My Commentary

I have been away for the Easter holidays (which in some part explains my lack of blogging lately), but was delighted to find that as I came home Monday night, there was to be a televised sparring between the venerable Richard Dawkins, and the........ well, and George Pell.

It is always great to see Dawkins on the fly. So often news reports depict him as a militant atheist, who is rude, or arrogant, and attacks religious belief with wanton disregard. Then when I watch his appearances, I am always reminded of just how polite and British the man is. His worst retorts after all are generally along the lines of an Oxfordian “utter nonsense”, or “patently absurd”.

If this is considered the epitome of a rude atheist, then I must be a positively abhorrent one.

During the show I was surprised at how flimsy Pell arguments were. No doubt I was always going to come out in support of Dawkins, but I had expected there to be more formidable arguments either for religious belief, or else against atheism. Yet I found myself being able to predict the weak arguments before they were pulled out of what must be quite a tattered bag of apologist tropes.

Hitler was an atheist, or social Darwinist; therefore evolution can’t be a good thing. We evolved from Neanderthals. If there were no justice after death, that would be very nice, therefore, there must be. Darwin was a theist. And so on.

All in all I had a great time watching the show, and though I had promised myself that I wouldn’t go into a twitter overload, I ended up tweeting around 22 times during the fifty-odd minute show. Not too bad an outcome though, as I managed to get one of my tweets up on screen to be seen by 863,000 Australians, which is around 4% of the population, so I am happy with that. It also got me a sizable new chunk of followers on twitter, and it is always nice to know that your crazy twitter rants are appreciated.

Then as I decided to write a blog on this episode of Q&A, I quickly found my initial thoughts on the program spiralling out of control into an almost blow by blow account of the interaction. So rather than make this solely a reflective piece, I have decided to make it a sort of running commentary of my favourite bits of the night, supplemented with quotes from the transcript.

This ended up running into around five thousand words (I remember uni days when such a word count would have killed me), but I hope it is somewhat entertaining for those of you who watched the show, and perhaps even those who missed it.
So yes it is rather longer than my usual posts, and doesn't have as many interesting pictures to look at, but it is just a culmination of a lot of stuff i wanted to get off my chest after watching the show.

Here goes.

The first question was quite a stock standard one, regarding whether or not an atheist can essentially be a good person. It is one often brought out in these debates, but also one that most people know the answer to from either side; yes, but with some conditions.

Dawkins points his response that “it is true that Christianity has adopted many of the best values of humanity but they don't belong to Christianity or any other religion”, and goes on to point out the bad things espoused in the Bible, both New Testament and Old. Then Pell counters with a quote which seems to me a bit too understanding of Christianity’s nature as a created religion, not a metaphysical truth:

“We’re Christians, we're New Testament people. There was an evolution in the Old Testament. There are some awful things there. It developed. The notion of God was purified as it went through the Old Testament.”

It seems odd for him to be talking of the notion of God changing, and of parts of the Bibles teachings being awful.

Now on to audience question number two, where things start to get moving along quicker:

“Religion is precisely often blamed for being the root of war and conflict but what about all the good it has done for society. God-centred religion has been the birth place of schools, universities, hospitals and countless developments in science. Richard, if you believe the human drive to seek the truth and to constantly improve ourselves is merely a mechanism for survival, then what’s the point and why should I bother? ”

This second question was a bit all over the place. First it is talking about remembering all the good things that religion has done rather than focusing on the bad things, then after simply stating that as if it should be a powerful point, the questioner quickly darts aside and asks ‘what’s the point’ if we are products of evolution.

I mean, perhaps a pertinent question, but where is the lead up, and what’s more; where is the alternative? It is all well and good to say, ‘what is the point if we are the product of evolution’, but perhaps if you are arguing for religion as the alternative, you should at least offer a reason why us originating from a god’s creation would imbue us with any more purpose, beyond that of merely being created by a god.

As Dawkins said “We have to find our own purposes in life, which are not derived directly from our scientific history”, which I agree with completely because I think that any purpose we want to derive for ourselves should depend on our own qualities and attributes, not just our physical origins.

Pell isn’t brought into the debate here, which was a pity if we wanted to hear an alternative purpose of life. But nonetheless, the third question quickly followed as a bit of an extension of this:

“Okay, my question for you today is: without religion, where is the basis of our values and in time, will we perhaps revert back to Darwin's idea of survival of the fittest? ”

Having read a lot of Dawkins writings, I knew he would have an answer for this which really seems like common sense to anyone who understands science’s place in our lives. That answer is simply that Darwinian principles explain how we got here; they are a physical law and shouldn’t be used to determine how we run our society any more than the theory of gravity should. Dawkins says this, and states emphatically that he would definitely not like to live by Darwinian principles.

The discussion then went towards science, and how it can tell us about why we are here. Pell, being a self stylised authority on why we are here, leapt on this chance, which lead to this little exchange:

GEORGE PELL: Well, it’s interest because I think in the space of about two minutes, Richard has said two different things, one of which is that science can't tell us why we're here and then in the next minute, trying to say that it does.
RICHARD DAWKINS: No. No. I said it can tell us why we're here.
GEORGE PELL: It can't.
RICHARD DAWKINS: Well, I simply contradict you in that case.

Here we begin to see the germ of a core misunderstanding between Pell and Dawkins as one talks about why we are here in a sense of ‘what is our purpose’, and the other talks about why we are here in a sense of ‘what caused us to be’.

Dawkins put it nicely, and with his trademark scientific air:

“Why we exist, you're playing with the word “why” there. Science is working on the problem of the antecedent factors that lead to our existence. Now, “why” in any further sense than that, why in the sense of purpose is, in my opinion, not a meaningful question. You cannot ask a question like “Why do mountains exist?” as though mountains have some kind of purpose. What you can say is what are the causal factors that lead to the existence of mountains and the same with life and the same with the universe.”

This is the age old ‘science can answer how, but not why’ argument, where those in favour of this rhetorical side step fail to elucidate why there must be a why, as opposed to simply just a how.

Then, at around the 9 minute mark I believe it was, Pell proved himself to be quite a premature invoker of Godwin’s Law when he took what is considered a fatal step in internet arguments, and committed a Redictio Ad Hitlerum:

“[...] it’s not Maggie Thatcher who was in the epitome or the personification of social Darwinism. It’s Hitler and Stalin. [........] Because it is the struggle for survival, the strong take what they can and the weak give what they must and there is nothing to restrain them and we have seen that in the two great atheist movements of the last century.”

Not only is this a premature appeal to Hitler, but also the classic mistake of counting him, and his Nazi cronies, as vanguards for atheism. Dawkins of course being a veteran of these unctuous arguments was quick to label this as ridiculous and again pointed out that:

“That’s exactly why I said that I despise Darwinian natural selection as a motto for how we should live. I tried to say we should not live by Darwinian principles but Darwinian principles explain how we got here and why we exist in the scientific sense”

At this point we reach the first of a few instances where a group of the audience flat out laughed at sporadic points during Dawkins explanations, to which he would ask the audience ‘Why is that funny?’ but never got a direct response. The laughter in this case was caused by the statement from Dawkins:

“Now, Cardinal, you said it’s part of human nature to want to ask the question why in the sense of purpose. It may very well be part of human nature but that doesn't make it a valid question.”

They laughed, Dawkins asked why, but I don’t think he got a response.

As this went further, and Dawkins further explained why he believes that a question like “What is the purpose of the universe?” is a silly question, Pell interjected to say “I think it’s a very poignant and real question to ask, “Why is there suffering?””.

Well it may be poignant, and real; but it has nothing to do with the question they were talking about!

On talking about suffering Dawkins later pointed out that “it is a natural part of the living condition. It is a natural part of Darwinian natural selection, which is one of the reasons why I was so keen to say that I didn't want to live by Darwinian principles.”

Again a clear explanation of what he believes to be the place of science and evolution in human affairs, but one which is constantly ignored by his detractors.

Next a question was directed toward Dawkins about his use of the label ‘atheist’ despite the fact that he has self-identified as being an agnostic in the past. Even Tony Jones seemed uncharacteristically uninformed about this distinction, but Dawkins seemed to explain it rather succinctly (with examples from his book The God Delusion), and a nice reference to the Easter season we find ourselves in:

“I live my life as though there is no God but any scientist of any sense will not say that they positively can disprove the existence of anything. I cannot disprove the existence of the Easter Bunny and so I am agnostic about the Easter Bunny. It’s in the same respect that I am agnostic about God”

Though I was happy to see the whole agnostic/atheist thing brought up with regard to Dawkins beliefs, I couldn’t help but think it could have been handled a bit better. I am of the ilk that describes ourselves as agnostic-atheists; we don’t believe in god, but we also don’t claim to know that there is no god. The label agnostic can be applied to any number of propositions, as Dawkins points out, as it deals with claims of knowledge. Atheist however can only be applied to one proposition, namely ones beliefs regarding deities. It deals only with these beliefs, and not the nature of whether or not the validity of such beliefs can be known with absolute certainty.

It is in this way that I think it is pertinent that we use the label atheist to describe ourselves, rather than just agnostic, as it gives a true indication of what our beliefs are, not just how certain we can claim to be regarding them.

The discussion then went towards what proofs would sway Dawkins mind, to which he had no direct answer, and was open in admitting this and the questions tricky nature. Tony then asked Pell whether he would be able to provide Dawkins with some of the proof he would require, to which Pell replied:

“No, because I think he only accepts proof that is rooted in sense experience. In other words he excludes the world of metaphysics, say the principle of contradiction, and he excludes the possibility of arguments that don't go against reason but go beyond it.”

Arguments that go beyond reason....... I don’t know what to make of this.

Tony then presses Pell a bit further with a great question regarding why this god would choose a small group of Jews 2,000 years ago, and make no subsequent proof after that. George Pell then digs himself a nice little hole to sit in when he remarked that the Jews were intellectual inferiors to their contemporaries, which led to a bit of ribbing by the host:

GEORGE PELL: They weren't intellectually the equal of either the Egyptians or the...
TONY JONES: Intellectually?
GEORGE PELL: Intellectually, morally...
TONY JONES: How can you know intellectually?
GEORGE PELL: Because you see the fruits of their civilisation. Egypt was the great power for thousands of years before Christianity. Persia was a great power, Caldia. The poor - the little Jewish people, they were originally shepherds. They were stuck. They’re still stuck between these great powers.
TONY JONES: But that’s not a reflection of your intellectual capacity, is it, whether or not you're a shepherd?
GEORGE PELL: Well, no it’s not but it is a recognition it is a reflection of your intellectual development, be it like many, many people are very, very clever and not highly intellectual but my point is...
TONY JONES: I’m sorry, can I just interrupt? Are you including Jesus in that, who was obviously Jewish and was of that community?
GEORGE PELL: Exactly.
TONY JONES: So intellectually not up to it?

Bazinga!

The next viewer question was my favourite, so I shall show it in its entirety, as well as link to it:

“Question for Richard Dawkins. The big bangers believe that once there was nothing, then suddenly, poof, the universe was created from a big bang. If I have nothing in the palm of my hand, close my fingers, speak the word bang, then open my fingers again, still I find there is nothing there. I ask you to explain to us in layman's terms how it is that something as enormous at the universes came from nothing? ”

First of all, Big Bangers; I love this label.

I like his little experiment, and the challenge he puts forth as if he has shook the foundations of the Big Bang theory, but at the end of the day this guys argument about closing and opening his hand is as laughable as the old ‘Peanut butter proves that there can be no abiogenesis’ argument.

I still cant believe this guy is serious.....

I also have to ponder why it is he thinks that the enormity of the universe would impact on its ability to come from nothing. This is particularly important to note as after all, the Big Bang theory tells us that the universe was once super condensed, and as such was not all that enormous (though still contained all the energy/mater we have today apparently).

People want a simple answer for the beginning of the universe, and then balk at the mention of anything that might sound a bit beyond their understanding. If an answer cannot be understood by them intuitively, then they don’t believe it has any weight as an explanation, This may well be a good argument if you think you live in a world where such explanation usually are intuitive. But talk to any physicist and you will soon find that much of the way the world works isn’t intuitive; just Google quantum mechanics and you will see how far the rabbit hole goes.

When the discussion continues and talk of new theories regarding the appearance of the universe gets moving, Pell attacks some of Dawkins arguments, and invokes what must be one of the biggest cop out arguments in the arsenal of the Christian apologist:

“he dumbs down God and he soups up nothing. He continually talks as though God is some sort of upmarket figure within space and time”

‘Within Space and time’ is the important part there. You will constantly hear people saying that their god is outside of space and time, and thus not subject to its ways, but you never hear an explanation of what this means, and how it can be reconciled with other forms of thinking prevalent in their theology. For instance, if this god is outside of space and time, how can he create a universe? The very act of creation requires time to already exist, after all you can’t have a ‘before and after’ the universe, without having time. And you can’t have a universe, without having space-time.

Regarding the outside of space and time excuse, Dawkins replied:

“it is no good invoking Thomas Aquinis and saying that God is defined as outside time and space. That’s just a cop out.”

FYI, I didn’t realise Dawkins phrased this almost exactly as I did above, but I am nonetheless pleased by it.

I think some more direct audience participation with Dawkins would have been good. After all, so many times when the audience laughed at something he said, Dawkins wanted to know why it was funny, but received no explanation. It made him seem more offended by their laughter rather than genuinely curious and ready to engage, as I believe he was.

This second bit of audience participation was spurred on by this remark:

RICHARD DAWKINS: You can dispute exactly what is meant by nothing but whatever it is it’s very, very simple.

(AUDIENCE LAUGH)

RICHARD DAWKINS: Why is that funny?

GEORGE PELL: Well, I think it’s a bit funny to be trying to define nothing.

Of course you do George, because you are not a philosopher or a scientist, so you don’t have to define or describe things; you are a theologian, and as such simply have to interpret things within your own stationary worldview. The Cardinal talks as if definitions in a philosophical or rational debate aren’t worth ruminating over.

The audience members who were snickered here no doubt consider such things equally absurd, because like most philosophical debates worth having, there is an instinctive answer that some are just willing to accept. We think it is silly to try and define nothing, because we have our own understanding of the word built up since we were a child. Much like if people are asked to define what happy is, or sad, they will probably shy from the task, because rather than question their own personal understanding of the concepts, it is easier to treat them as self-evident truths and be done with it. Perhaps more pragmatic, but by no means philosophically satisfying.

Next came one of Pell’s biggest slip-ups which unfortunately I believe wasn’t properly debunked. That is Pell’s insistence that Charles Darwin was a theist.

The exchange went like this:

GEORGE PELL: Darwin was a theist because he said he couldn’t believe that the immense cosmos and all the beautiful things in the world came about either by chance or out of necessity. He said, “I have to be ranked as a theist.

RICHARD DAWKINS: That just not true.

GEORGE PELL: Excuse me it’s...

RICHARD DAWKINS: It’s just plain not true.

GEORGE PELL: It’s on page 92 of his auto biography. Go and have a look.

Dawkins displays his incredulity at this falsehood, but as the discussion is quickly moved along by Jones; there is no real room for rebuttal. But there is room on this blog for all manner of things I would wish to rant about, and so here I shall!

In a sense Pell is right about Darwin having been a theist, however not in the sense he actually wants people to believe. Darwin was a theist, much like he was a baby: but then he grew up. He was a theist, but then he lost this faith, and the quote in his autobiography as reference by George was clearly talking about beliefs Darwin had had, not ones he maintained at the time of writing. In fact if he had only read a few pages further, to page 94, he would have read Darwin affirming himself as an agnostic, and then elucidating just how one can go about living according to this, without recourse for a god to explain things.

The night of the show I looked up page 92 of his autobiography and got a nice link to Darwin’s online writings. However if you search for a similar thing today, you will find links to heaps of blogs discussing the very thing I am discussing now; the use of this by Pell on Q&A. The misinformation patrols are quick at work for our religious friends however, as one Catholic site is already exclaiming “Cardinal Pell shows up Richard Dawkins ignorance about Charles Darwin”.

Then, having failed to understand the history of Darwin’s religious beliefs despite the fact that he was claiming to have read his autobiography (which is a nice read and like all of Darwin's work, available for free online), Pell exposed his lack of understanding with regard to mankind’s evolutionary history with this startling exchange, which seemed to enliven Dawkins from his jetlag:

TONY JONES: Sorry, can I just bring you, in a sense, to the point of the question? Do you accept that humans evolved from apes?

GEORGE PELL: Yeah, probably. From Neanderthals, yes. Whether...

RICHARD DAWKINS: From Neanderthals?

GEORGE PELL: Probably.

RICHARD DAWKINS: Why from Neanderthals?

GEORGE PELL: Well, who else would you suggest?

RICHARD DAWKINS: Neanderthals were our cousins. We’re not descended from them and we’re both descended from...

GEORGE PELL: These are extant cousins? Where will I find a Neanderthal today if they're my cousins?

RICHARD DAWKINS: They’re not extant, they’re extinct.

GEORGE PELL: Exactly. That’s my point.

RICHARD DAWKINS: Your point is that because they're extinct they can't be our cousins?

GEORGE PELL: I really am not much fussed.

RICHARD DAWKINS: That’s very clear.

GEORGE PELL: Something in the evolutionary story seems to have come before humans. A lot of people say it’s the Neanderthal.

Sure perhaps it is a bit much to attack the Bishop for this mistake; after all he has no expertise in the matter whatsoever. But nevertheless, Pell should have just pushed it aside by saying, ‘oh well, I don’t really know much about mans evolutionary history’, rather than trying to argue about the relevance of this other species of human being extant, or cousins. He even goes on to state how Neanderthals weren’t the equivalent of humans because they didn’t draw on cave walls, even though there is new evidence that they in fact did do just that.

As the discussion continued about mans evolution and the implications of this toward those religions that believe man in unique and has a soul, I think there was further evidence showing Pell’s ignorance of modern evolutionary theory. For example he shows a misunderstanding of the continuous nature of species here:

“so we can't say exactly when there was a first human but we have to say if there are humans there must have been a first one”

There doesn’t have to be a first human at all, just because there is a human now. There is gradual change, so that no parent and offspring would be so dissimilar as to be labelled members of different species, yet these gradual changes would nevertheless compound over time to inevitably change the species (Dawkins in fact goes over this briefly, but adroitly, in a later segment, to which Pell inanely replies “if there is no first person we’re not humans”).

In talking about these ‘first people’ Pell made some headlines (virtual ones at least) in this article when he referred to Adam and Eve as mythology, and not fact.

When he started going over this mythology, Pell highlighted one of the things that I believe is a major difference between a theist’s mindset versus that of an atheist’s:

“[...] the key to the whole of universe, the really significant thing, are humans”

A very self centred view of the nature of existence I would think. What do you know, it is all about me after all. It’s like Phillip J Fry once said: “So I really am important? How I feel when I'm drunk is correct?“

“and, [...], it is a very sophisticated mythology to try to explain the evil and suffering in the world.”

I will just say quickly about the above that I don’t believe it is very sophisticated to assert that sins can be inherited, and that people are born, as Hitchens used to quote "created sick, commanded to be well”.

A while later when the talk again moves towards Richard’s expertise in science my favourite moment of the night appears. Take a look:

George Pell: You have to reason about the facts of science, ask whether you believe the suggestion that, you know, random selection is sufficient and also most evolutionary biologists today don't believe that.

RICHARD DAWKINS: Don't believe what?

GEORGE PELL: They don't believe in random so this crude fundamentalist version of random selection that you propose

RICHARD DAWKINS: I do not propose it and I strongly deny that evolution is random selection. Evolution is non-random selection. Non-random.

GEORGE PELL: So there is a purpose to it is there?

RICHARD DAWKINS: No.

GEORGE PELL: Could you explain what non-random means?

RICHARD DAWKINS: Yes, of course I could. It’s my life's work!

I love it, especially because so many religious apologists seem to forget that these scientists do have a whole lot of research behind what they are doing, and unlike a lifetime built up on theological ideas, they can explain them with due recourse to facts and observations. It just goes to show how much of religious disapproval of evolutionary theory is based on an unchanging image of the science as constructed by apologists, rather than an active understanding of the theory. That evolution is still considered by many who don’t understand it as a random process, is something which must infuriate Dawkins, and other evolutionary biologists, to no end.

Dawkins great strength is how he can explain something so well, in so few words. Take for example the explanation of evolution’s non-random nature which he gives to Pell:

“There is random genetic variation and non-random survival and non-random reproduction which is why, as the generations go by, animals get better at doing what they do. That is quintessentially non-random.”

Next, an atheist asks a question about what will happen when he [the atheist] dies and we get a long response from Pell (prodded by Tony of course) which goes into some of the intricacies of the Christian mythology, but again I like the concise and rational nature of Dawkins response:

“Well, the answer to the question of what’s going to happen when we die depends on whether we're buried, cremated or give our bodies to science.”

Bam, done.

As the discussion delved into more Christian mythology, and Pell defended such things as bodily resurrection and transubstantiation, he again hinted toward the mortal origins of Christianity upon acknowledging the adoption of yet more Greek culture and thinking into the Christian ethos:

“I understand it [edit: transubstantiation], according to a system of metaphysics. It was spelled out by the Greeks before Christ came, which we have adopted [......]”

Though I suppose it could be said that the referrals back to a previous culture don’t just show the human origins of religion, but rather that it may reflect a universal truth not quite grasped correctly by the Greeks. But honestly; which is the simpler explanation?

Dawkins calls out another tricky tactic of the religious apologist when he continually tries to get Pell to explain how some of the language he is using actually applies to real world usage, and our way of employing the English language. When Pell tries to explain how the wafer does become the body of Christ via transubstantiation, but remains as a wafer for all intents and purposes, Dawkins retorts:

“I mean I use - English is my native language. The wafer does not become the body of anybody in the English language.”

However as Pell had previously said:

“I believe it because I believe the man who told us that was also the son of God. He says, “This is my body. This is my blood,” and I’d much prefer to listen to him and take his word than yours.”

It is clear that a rational discussion about language and how it should be employed (with common definitions and syntax) is useless against someone who defines words by divine fiat, not in any proper linguistic fashion.

Seeing that this discussion was going nowhere, Tony interjected with a new, and refreshingly brief, question from the audience:

“Is it okay to tell a child that God doesn't exist? ”

This is one I have thought about a lot as my son is growing up in a culture that frequently talks of God, gods and heaven, albeit generally in a metaphorical or profane (“God damn it!”) sense. Dawkins does well, saying that he would prefer for her to figure it out based on the evidence [he has a great open letter to his daughter, hence the ‘her’, that can be found over here]. After all, he is an agnostic atheist, and would not be willing to tell his child that a god doesn’t exist with 100% certainty anyhow.

Then when Pell was starting his response to this question, he unintentionally got the biggest laugh of the night with this statement, which were it not coming from a member of the catholic church, would barely have registered a stifled giggle:

“I remember when I was in England we were preparing some young English boys”

I smell a meme on the way!

Thank you Sam Dekok for being so on the ball making this

Some people have said that it was a bit crass of Dawkins to laugh when the audience took amusement from Pell reminiscing about ‘preparing’ some English boys, but I think that given the Catholic Church’s history in this regard, it is hardly an unwarranted jest.

Then when the laughter dies down, and he finally gets it out, Pell’s self styled ‘simple’ answer to the question of whether kids should be told they are going to hell is this:

"Hitler. You think Hitler might be in hell? Started the Second World War, caused the death of 50 million or would you prefer a system where Hitler got away with it for free?"

Would you prefer it? As if preference has a bearing upon reality. I am sure the kid would prefer a universe where suffering such as the like committed by Hitler, was simply not possible.

This personal drive for justice to be handed out even after the grave is brought home when Jones presses him further (as he is sooooo good at doing):

TONY JONES: What about a system where he was obliterated and didn't exist anymore?
GEORGE PELL: Well, he would have got away with too much, as far as I am concerned.

But Pell doesn’t give up, he is determined to show that simply wanting the universe to be a preferable and just one is somehow an argument for it actually being such a universe.

“But I believe on behalf of the innocent victims in history that the scales of justice should work out. And if they don't, life is radically unjust, the law of the jungle prevails.”

‘On behalf of the innocent victims’, implicitly suggesting that those atheists who don’t believe there is justice in the universe from some divine after death source, are somehow not on the side of the victims.

True, a world where the Hitler’s and Mengele’s can simply die and escape justice may not be a just world at all. However saying this doesn’t really add weight to the argument to that your idea of what the world could be like is nicer than an alternative, and therefore that it must be true.

I believe that the world is essentially an indifferent place, which is why I don’t think that justice is something to be doled out from beyond the grave, but rather that justice, like ethics and happiness; is an entirely human affair.

Dawkins likewise is having none of this, and simply responds to the question of which reality is more preferential with this little nugget of rationality:

“I’m more interested, however, in what’s true than in what I would like to be true.”

Any talk of suffering or justice in regard to a religious worldview is bound to ask the question of why an omnipotent god would allow such things to happen. Pell offers up the same ‘free will’ argument so often employed, yet very rarely explained:

“That’s a very good question but if God is going to allow us to be good he’s got to give us freedom.”

Freedom perhaps, but ability; no. We can easily be given the freedom to do things, without making every possible action available to be done. For example, we have the ability to kill, and maim; but is this physical reality required in order for our will to be truly free? I don’t think so. We could have bodies incapable of feeling pain, or being killed, whilst retaining our free will, so this reality still needs to be accounted for.

As the night quickly came to an end, I think Pell was beginning to lose interest in the whole affair. He had shot himself in the foot a few times along the way, and then added this nice snafu to the mix when talking about secondary causes in regard to how a perfect god would design a just universe:

GEORGE PELL: It is interesting through these secondary causes probably no people in history have been punished the way the Germans were. It is a terrible mystery.
TONY JONES: There would be a very strong argument saying that the Jews of Europe suffered worse than the Germans.

George Pell, you have been Tony Jones’d.

As if that weren’t enough to highlight Pell’s mounting disinterest in his side of the exchange, his final words for the night consisted of this exchange:

GEORGE PELL: [...] my life would be much simpler and much easier if I didn't have to go to bat for a number of Christian principles.
TONY JONES: Have you ever regretted that you do?
GEORGE PELL: Sometimes I wonder.
TONY JONES: Seriously?
GEORGE PELL: No. No. No. 

Ah yes, if only it was the good old days, when Catholic Cardinals didn’t have to try and explain themselves to the people, and could just force through their will with divine right.

Anyhow, that is my commentary on the Dawkins v Pell episode of Q and A. I hope it was enjoyable.

MM


Oh, and one quick last minute mention of another meme created after George Pell replied to a question about the existence of gays within his god's master plan in this exchange:

TONY JONES: Can I just interpose a quick question on this. We are running out of time. I mean do you believe that homosexuality, since it’s not a question of choice, is part of God's natural order? GEORGE PELL: Creation is messy. I think it’s the oriental carpet makers always leave a little flaw in their carpet because only God is perfect. 

I love the internet

Wednesdays Words 6 - Literary Taste and Personal Development

“Once one is caught up into the material world not one person in ten thousand finds the time to form literary taste, to examine the validity of philosophic concepts for himself, or to form what, for lack of a better phrase, I might call the wise and tragic sense of life.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

I like this quote, and unfortunately feel that it describes me to a great degree. I haven’t taken the time to properly develop myself as a person to the extent that I would like to have if my situation had been ideal (read: was a millionaire with time to spare). I don’t know all the things I would like to know, I haven’t read the books I know I should have read, and I don’t fully understand my own views about the world I live in. I feel like I am making do with a minimal set of the information I would like to have in order to be content with my own personal sphere of knowledge.

Case in point: this very quote itself. I know of F. Scott Fitzgerald, but I don’t know much about him. He was a writer I believe, active around the twenties, but I couldn’t name a book he was responsible for, and I know that there was a Zelda involved, but that this has nothing to do with Link.

This Zelda though, I know quite well

I find that rather than knowing important things, I know of important things. It is like my previous post on how I just don’t get poetry, yet I still have a tacit acceptance that it must be a worthwhile thing to know.

Literary taste is likewise something I have failed to cultivate. Though I possess an extensive knowledge of book titles which I should have read, or which nonetheless have some sort of literary significance; I have yet to move very far along my list of ‘books I need to read’. Brideshead Revisted, Wuthering Heights, anything by Hemingway, anything by suitably long dead Russians; the list goes on.

I know of these books, but I haven’t the slightest idea why they are important, or what the overall gist of their respective stories are.

Is it just me, or has this title always sounded more like a B-grade horror sequel than a literary work?

But the way that the modern world can overtake you is evident all over the place. I love chess, but I don’t play chess much anymore; I haven’t cultivated that part of my life anywhere near as much as I would want. I play with my son occasionally, but in order to fully embrace the game, I would have to devote far too much time to it. Let’s face it, in these days where a half hour of chess playing could be replaced with a scroll through Facebook activities, a read of my Twitter feed, a glance at the latest blog entries via RSS, a few informative and hilarious videos on YouTube, insightful commentary from Al-Jazerra or any other activities on the web; the ancient Indian game all but certainly loses the bet.

Or perhaps I can kill two birds with one stone? 

On the other hand, if we are to look at Fitz’s quote from a more modern perspective we might be tempted to dismiss it, or at least diminish its accusations, as somewhat anachronistic.

After all while it is no doubt true that the majority of the population will not form a literary taste as such, these days literature is not the only medium with which people can form a personal philosophical viewpoint.

Nowadays we can devote our attention to the multitude of movies out there, and slowly cultivate a unique cinematic taste, which may very well help us to plumb the depths of the human condition as much as any literary viewpoint would. We can similarly turn our attention to the small screen, which these days exhibits works of such complexity and daring that it is hardly worthy of the scorn so often associated with devoting time to watching the box.

But if there is any one tool which has emerged out of the past century as the superlative force in cultivating our own personal beliefs, tastes and philosophical development, it has to be the Internet.

And it's useful for pictures of people lying face down in various situations......

Nothing else can compare to the net’s ability to pervade every instance of our personality. You can read books online, turn to articles about them, read a blog, or take part in a discussion with people from across the globe. But considering the medium I am using for this message, this should be of no doubt to anyone reading.

Perhaps this widening of the information sphere is the reason for my thoughts regarding my own apparent lack in refinement. As there is so much more available to us in this information age, and our attention spans have been stretched much further than ever before, we in a sense dilute our tastes over a variety of knowledge sources never before experienced by anyone at any point in history. In this sense, a short attention span isn’t the worst thing in the world, for while it may result in a less thorough approach to whatever is being analysed at the time, it nevertheless allows for rapid transitions from one source of attention, knowledge or amusement, to another.

I mean sure I may not have much of an understanding of the great Russian authors, or the popular British novelists of the past few hundred years, but thanks to the internet I know such obscure things as the amazing abilities of animal penises, the curious nature of infinite numbers that differ in size and how to make a trebuchet out of office supplies. And this is only a small subset of the much larger experiences I have garnered from the venerable World Wide Web.

So while Fitzgerald may have been lamenting modern mans aversion to literary and philosophical development and self determination, I think it is somewhat encouraging that today we have a lot more tools available to the everyday man to help them in their quest through life.
That's all for this late night rant dear reader. I hope this makes up for the missed Wednesdays Words last week; whats more I hope someone noticed it was missing.
Good night all.
MM

Oh and on a quick wiki, I see that F. Scott wrote The Great Gatsby. I haven't read it, but luckily come December this year I might not have to...

Dizziness of Freedom

I am somewhat scared of heights. I wouldn’t call myself acrophobic, in the sense that I am not paralysed by the experience of heights, and don’t suffer panic attacks or anything of the like. But I am uncomfortable with heights, and with the feelings I get from them.

There are obvious reasons why a fear of heights would be favoured by evolution; it doesn’t take much to see why an individual who shy’s away from cliffs may be more likely to survive than their friend who likes playing on the precipice. Likewise there can be obvious discomforts associated with heights, most common being a feeling of vertigo or loss of balance as the visual cues our brain uses to correct our motion move further into the distance, and thus afford us less accurate points of reference to work with.

However these examples are too biological to fully satisfy me with regard to my own reaction to heights. It is all well and good to say that these physiological things can compound into a fear of heights, or at least a discomfort with them; but us homo sapiens’ are one of the lucky species able to not only understand out evolutionary origins, but to also (in a sense) overcome them. There are other natural fears, such as a fear of spiders or darkness, which we can use our reason to overcome. Yet I still find myself experiencing a visceral response when I am elevated beyond the norm.

Plus this photo freaks my eyes out....

Though I may know that the handrail is secure, and that I won’t be falling; I still feel the primal pull towards something less than pleasant. I can be in a tall building, staring out a window in the complete knowledge that I am as safe as the thousands of people who use it every day; yet the pit of my stomach beckons. My mind can reason, but it is nevertheless still contained in a brain, and subject to its evolutionary idiosyncrasies.
I did however find another satisfying explanation a few years back when was reading about Kierkegaard. I came across his idea of the ‘dizziness of freedom’, whereby in some cases the fear of heights can be described not as a fear of the simple fact of being at a considerable height, but rather the second hand fear, or subconscious dread, associated with the fact that you could at any point choose to throw yourself off the edge. Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom he said; the fact that you have the will within yourself to do these things brings up an unfocused fear inside merely because of this fact.

"I must find a truth that is true for me. And someone who can draw bodies" -  Kierkegaard

This to me was a more satisfactory explanation of my own feelings regarding heights. I am not afraid of height in itself, but rather of the possibility (and dare I say urge) to throw oneself over the edge.

I get the same feeling, that quiver at the base of my stomach, when I am a passenger in a car going at speed along a highway. The knowledge that just outside my door is a similar drop to a closer, but equally fatal, moving highway. Accessible with a simple exercising of my own free will; I could just as easily open the door and plunge to the asphalt, as I could defenestrate myself from a sky-scraper.
I don’t want to do these things, for the obvious fear of the consequences; but it is a possibility, and something seemingly only kept at bay by the very will which could bring about its execution.Though I guess as with a lot of explanations, this is just pushing the onus back a bit further. After all, then we have to wonder why the tacit acknowledgement of such possible manifestations of the will is something that our subconscious minds can fixate upon. After all I feel the unfocused fear of this action much more than I do any number of other possible, yet undesirable, actions that are in my arsenal. I don’t feel the dizziness of freedom when I am near a fire, though I know I could throw myself in, nor do I feel anxiety when I am in the presence of poisons, though I know I could imbibe them.

Though some poison I do indulge in

It must simply be the undeniable visual cues, the involuntary sense data that enters our minds via the optic nerve, and sets its subconscious processes working against us. After all to recognise that we are up high takes a lot less deliberative effort than it does to understand some of the other threats mentioned.
Also, at the end of the day, it is much easier on ones pride to shy away from heights based on a reasoned philosophical argument, than it is to just admit that you are scared of heights. So perhaps I will just stick to that for now.

  

Sidenote here: In Being and Nothingness, Jean-Paul Sartre described vertigo as “anguish to the extent that I am afraid not of falling over the precipice, but of throwing myself over”, which seems to be similar to what we are talking about here. Except for the fact that vertigo and a fear of heights aren’t exactly the same thing. Vertigo is more a sense of spinning when one is remaining still. It is often associated with a fear of heights (not to mention classic movies (see above), or Arrested Development skits), but can be experienced at any time.

[Oh, and I couldn't find the vertigo clips from Arrested Development, so i settled with the best of Tobias.]



And with that I declare this random post complete.
MM