Masters and Slaves

Warning: This post is going to be harsh and offensive.  If you're disinterested in raw emotions coupled with stinging invectives, stop reading now.  If you can keep a dispassionate view and recognise this entry as what it is--an explosion of stressful feelings not directed at anyone in particular--then keep reading.

Who are the masters among us?

They seem to be those who manipulate and weasel their way into positions of power, thinking themselves suited for directing the lives of others.  They seem to be curdled souls tortured by unresolved psychological issues, who, in a sadistic twist, see fit to inflict their misery on others.  They seem to be the kinds of people who trip a macabre dance through the web of society, warts covering their eyes, and pestilential ideals burning the light of their days.  They seem to be the man or woman who thinks nothing of passing a regulation, bill, or expectation that indentures others to false pretenses, moral dissonance, and self-abasement.

Who are the slaves among us?

These passive souls lack the courage to block the passage of those who would purposefully dominate them.  They can't--sometimes won't-- see their own personal sovereignty as a human being, a member of the natural world.  They kowtow to the masters for fear of  being ruled too harshly; as if by cowering blindly under a self-proclaimed dominator their life will go easier for them; as if by denying the freedom inherent to their existence they will be able to gain the approval of those who seat themselves in places of authority.  They are willlingly blind, purposefully silent, self-abnegating, falsely humble, arrogantly immoral about their own self-worth, given to humourless self-deprecation, and easy to turn against their own kind.  They are sickly, weak, tepid personalities forced ever deeper into their own concentric shells by the force of their own untamed illusions and the violent machinations of those who presume the place of a master.

But the master doesn't need to be a maniacal fuckwit stamping about the earth in some sophisticated temper-tantrum; he doesn't have to be the person who gains his titular superiority by seeing how many people he can manipulate into bending over.  He can give those things up for a more reasonable, more mindful way of being.  He can change his negative self-limitations into positive self-sovereignty.

Similarly, the slave doesn't have to be a slave.  The alternative is blindingly simple: he can choose to be free.  He can shed his snake-oiled false humility, straighten his shoulders and recognise that he belongs: he belongs inherently to a class of creatures that have a unique freedom.  Why should anyone, let alone a slave, limit himself by his own preconceptions of useless servility?  Why serve something "greater" while touting the contradictory message that you are "unique"?  Doesn't that uniqueness assume the greater?  Doesn't being unique mean, definitionally, that you are greater?  What can be greater than the singular essence of your unique self?  There has never been a you before you, and there never will be another you after you: that makes you the "greatest," doesn't it?


If you fit the abject cowardliness of the modern slave, if you understand that your limitations are self-imposed (e.g., you can't do such-and-such because you haven't gone to university to get your letters), if you're the person who sneers at mainstream social impositions (e.g., getting an English degree to prove you can refer to others who write well), then bloody-well get off your ass and start doing it!  You don't need to modify your desires, your ambitions, your passions, to fit anyone else's expectations of how you should be.  Stop listening to the message of the masters, the slave-drivers.  See your uniqueness as your evidence of your sovereignty.

If the fact that no-one else is you doesn't convince you that you are, definitively, "the greatest," then you will always be the slave, the milquetoast personality that aspires to mediocrity, that lives under the bar as if it was a roof instead of raising it or removing it; if you cannot break free of the master-slave mentality that so predominates our cultural mechanisms, if you cannot declare your own personal freedom and sovereignty, then you are a slave and you will be ruled.  You will be ruled by the same self-limiting assholes that have made it profitable to thrive off of your weakness, your lack of creativity, your refusal to be a self-actuating personality.

Your uniqueness is proof of your greatness; it is the evidence of your personal sovereignty.  Stop feasting on the blandishments of mediocrity, of commonplace social expectations.  Start self-directing, self-dictating.  In essense, start being rationally selfish.  Or to put it less controversially, don't be afraid of self-referencing decisions: you are not required to sacrifice your personhood for the predeterminations of others who are no more fit to rule you than a camel is to play a guitar.  Be free.  Rule yourself.

Rot and Stink

"In a criminal society, goodness is a crime. We have no moral obligation to tell the truth to the devil. To do so is likely to be actually immoral." --Dee

I was in a conversation with a well-spoken activist--at least, that's what I'll label him for the purpose of ease--and we were enjoying an exchange about the principles of anarchy (see quote above).  For example, anarchic philosophy calls for non-violence; anarchic philosophy emphasizes the sovereignty of the individual over above the collective; the responsibility of the individual is to provide for his own needs by the work of his own mind and hands, not by leeching off of the handouts of infrastructure when he is capable of doing otherwise.

However, our current socio-political climate does not allow for non-violence.  Consider our nation's involvement in wars that have nothing to do with us (e.g., Iraq).  Consider, also, that in Canada each person is in a holding pattern so far down in the lattice-work of control that considering yourself a 'sovereign' (solely over your own life, mind, and no-one else's) comes across as "eccentric" or "idiotic" or "crazy."  Or, consider that taxes are enforced: you earn your living, your country takes money from you it didn't earned, puts it towards ends you may not support, and then threatens you with fines and possibly jail-time if you don't give over a portion of your money.  This last example has the same rot and stink about it that the medieval church's enforced tithing did.

Whether or not I agree with these principles, I was given pause to think about who I am in contrast to the larger collective (society), and what the nature of our present collective is: are we living in an actual democracy?  Is democracy defined simply by being able to vote at elections?  Or is there something more to it that isn't being effected in Canadian culture?  If I were to consider myself a sovereign, how would that effect my participation in the common-place infrastructure of society?  Is it "criminal" to not give your money to a bigger group of people (the government) when they haven't earned it, and simply because they declare it criminal to not give money to them?  Should the government be re-labeled Big Vinny, and considered a sophisticated leg-breaker?

I don't know.  At the very least, I was forced to think of some very interesting alternate points of view.  And, being the curious person that I am, I appreciated the mental exercise said activist gave me.

What I'm Reading

I posted a reading list for 2011 back in January.  I had hoped at that point to set-out a reading track for this year.  I was taking a chance that reality would treat me with the same static indifference as I treat it.  As it turns out, I should've listened to my better instincts that more pressing issues in my life would change the coarse of my reading this year; my gawkish auto-didacticism enjoyed the pulse of my good intentions, but inevitably collided with reality.  The result is a write-off of the old list, and a new list that is smaller, unfixed, and deals more precisely with where my mind is focused right now.

Rather than list any projected books, I will simply give space to the ones I am currently reading.

Undefended Love is an exploration of the human being, and how a person can be whole.  Many people are weighed-down by the pressure of wanting and needing to give and receive love; they want to have an unguarded, vulnerable and safe relationship.  Few people understand how such a relationship can be achieved.  Psychology, anthropology, transactional analysis, real-life anecdotes, all these areas mix and mingle together to bring about a book that elegantly sets forth a manifesto for personal wholeness, and relational intimacy at the deepest levels.

Roadtrip Nation.  I picked this book up at the local Liquidation World (now re-dubbed 'LW').  Initially, the book was more of an interest to my wife; she's interested in other people's successes and how they achieved what they did.  Since I've become disaffected with my own employment and have been sussing-out creative ways to self-employ, I thought I'd have a boo at this book.  The premise is simple: drive around the country and interview successful people about how they got to where they are.  The content is inspirational.  And if you like a casual, passionate look at the qualities of successful people, this book is perfect.

We The Living was Ayn Rand's first full-length novel, and is a tragic romance that depicts the bitter struggles of the individual against the state in Soviet Russia.  Rand's later novels (Anthem, The Fountainhead, and Atlas Shrugged) more directly explore her philosophy of Objectivism, but We The Living sets a background for why Rand was so abjectly against statism, and philosophies that purposefully manipulate and oppress people's inherent dignity and autonomy.  Like the other Russian authors I've read--and thoroughly enjoyed--Rand brings a sweep of practical majesty, and uncompromising strength to her narration; I've been left shocked and raw many times throughout this novel, so far.

I will update this post in the next few days when I'm done Roadtrip Nation and We The Living.  From there, I'll be starting another Ayn Rand novel, and pushing my way into a volume on some counter-cultural understandings of child-rearing.

Until then, stay well, and play hard!

The Pope, the Gates of Hell, and Useless Apologies

The devil's in the Vatican. Paedophile priests. A history of ambiguous relations to some of the most despotic and villainous leaders of all time (Hitler and Pius XII, for example). Residential schools. Witch-hunts. The selling of Indulgences to Europe's poor to facilitate the building of St. Peter's basillica. The Inquisition. Sociopathic Popes more inclined to murder and rape than teach doctrines of love and charity. Cover-ups and scandals heaped on cover-ups and scandals.

All of these things and more coming out of a church that claims a laughable duology of doctrines that it is the "one true church", and that "the gates of hell will not prevail against [it]". Assuming Catholic claims are true that it is the 'one true church', it would seem stupidly obvious that hell has not needed to prevail against its gates: hell has been rather successfully living itself out within the church for quite a while now. If there's to be any gate crashing, let's hope it will eventually be by an internal movement to get the hell out.

Fortunately, there has been a recent spate of sex abuse scandals in Europe that expose the current pope's collusions and cover-ups, and a rather wide ring of child-raping priests. The current pope, Benedict XVI (formerly Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, and oft-named Pope Palpatine) has, for a long time now, been indisputably involved in not only shuffling off psychopathic priests, but also shuffling off the justice that should be visited upon them.

As Johann Hari reports:

Far from changing this paedophile-protecting model, Ratzinger reinforced it. In 2001 he issued a strict secret order demanding that charges of child-rape should be investigated by the Church "in the most secretive way... restrained by a perpetual silence... and everyone... is to observe the strictest secret."

It doesn't stop there, however. As Christopher Hitchens points out in his article The Great Catholic Cover-Up

The accusations, intoned Ratzinger, were only treatable within the church's own exclusive jurisdiction. Any sharing of the evidence with legal authorities or the press was utterly forbidden. Charges were to be investigated "in the most secretive way ... restrained by a perpetual silence ... and everyone ... is to observe the strictest secret which is commonly regarded as a secret of the Holy Office … under the penalty of excommunication." (My italics). Nobody has yet been excommunicated for the rape and torture of children, but exposing the offense could get you into serious trouble. And this is the church that warns us against moral relativism! (See, for more on this appalling document, two reports in the London Observer of April 24, 2005, by Jamie Doward.)

It would be fair of a Catholic apologete to question my sources. Both Hari and Hitchens are, admittedly, atheists. However, given the history of Catholic deceptions, and the urgent spot Catholics find themselves in at present, I have no reason to trust Catholic sources at all. Too much is at stake, and their practice of moonshining the public about their moral turpitude gives them all the more reason to diminish the impact of the situation through sophistry, and doublespeak (e.g., the Catholic church never errs in matters of faith and morals).

And the fact that Benedict XVI has delivered an apology to Ireland's abused today (March 20th, 2010) does nothing more to ameliorate the problem than an abusing husband's repeated apologies for kicking the shit out of his wife: the offense is still alive, and will likely continue to happen. Why? Because it's not the fact that paedophile priests exist in the clergy of the Catholic church that is the greatest concern -- though it is certainly an incredibly important concern. The reason why these kinds of offenses will continue is because the system of the Catholic church that enables and harbours paedophile priests is not likely to change. That, to me, is the greatest scandal in all of this: that there is no way to get rid of the abuse problem unless the Catholic system dissolves itself, a reality we know will not happen, but we'd all be better off with if it did.

What Is Religion?

An erudite reader commented in a recent article that he was calling me (and another commenter) out on the term 'religion'. It was not an aggressive manoeuver, but a considerate action meant to help clarify conversation. Rather than leave it within the context of that exchange, however, I thought it appropriate to bring this subject up-front and centre, since it is a defining issue in so many people's lives.

So, what exactly is religion?

Anyone can look around and note the various rituals, genuflections, processes, and events that religious people regularly attend to. But to note religion simply as a set of rituals and practices not only undercuts the driving importance of religious devotion, but it also relies on superficial observations of those things that are external to the religious anyway.


For example, everyone knows that Christians have a cultus for the sacraments, but that is where a good deal of understanding stops. It would require a little more effort to investigate the history, meaning, and respective differences in the sacraments, and further, the differences between varying communities of Christians. More effort would be required again to appreciate the aesthetic application of the sacraments to the religious life, and the nostalgic desire for transcendence that believers seek when they partake of the sacraments.


All this is to say that by observing that the religious have definite practices, we cannot then conclude that 'religion' is what we've observed: rituals, genuflections, proceses, and special events. Such a definition loops back on itself, and gets us nowhere. How much sense does it make to suggest that because we've observed people going to church and praying that religion is therefore going to church and praying? It doesn't make sense at all. All we have concluded with that kind of definition is that religion is what religious people do. The same logic is made memorable in the movie Forrest Gump: "Stupid is as stupid does." It may be the case that religion is what religious people do, but no-one is the wiser for such a definition.


Our work is still ahead of us. Thankfully, many people have proposed definitions of 'religion' that cut a little deeper than a wistful glance at Merriam-Webster. Here (thank you to Dr. Irving Hexham) are some of those definitions:

• William James: "the belief that there is an unseen order, and that our supreme good lies in harmoniously adjusting ourselves thereto."
• Alfred North Whitehead: "what the individual does with his own solitariness."
• George Hegel: "the knowledge possessed by the finite mind of its nature as absolute mind."

James' definition approaches an appreciable definition of 'religion' but comes short; it only observes that people believe stuff and order their lives accordingly. I can observe the invisible quality of friendship just as much as I can observe the religious believing in an "unseen order". But observing friends being friends, or the religious being religious does not answer what 'religion' is anymore than noting that "stupid is as stupid does", as was mentioned earlier.

Whitehead's definition seems to dismiss the point altogether. People masturbate in solitude, but that hardly makes masturbation a religion. What one does when no-one is looking (i.e., in solitude) exorcises the very obvious fact that religion is a public phenomenon, a social event, a world-wide extroversion of beliefs. In this sense, solitude can be argued to work against religion; a social assent to a set of beliefs is quite the opposite to what one does in solitude, for what one does in solitude quite obviously lacks participation in public affiliations.

Hegel seems to want to relegate religion to a purely abstract realisation of the mind. That is, a singular, limited and mortal mind apprehending the fact that its essence, its very being, is unrestrained or unlimited; i.e., absolute. I think Hegel's definition anticipates his dialectic system more than a working definition of 'religion' proper. One thing Hegel's definition does intimate, however, is transcendence. This is helpful insomuch as it will aide in attempting a definition of religion later in this essay. For now, however, it is appropriate to note that one of Hegel's driving points was that the recognition of a boundary implies the possibility of going beyond it (which is the literal meaning of 'transcend', to go beyond). As such, for Hegel, religion is the implicit recognition that because a perceiving mind is finite, there must therefore be infinite, or absolute mind.

Where Hegel breaks down is in the practicability of his definition. Religion focuses on what is beyond the human condition, what is supernatural, and how those things can be invoked in human affairs. To state that a finite mind apprehending an absolute mind is 'religion' only tells us that religion is a recognition of a quality of being beyond our natural senses. That much is already assumed by the religious, though in far less philosophical terms. So Hegel's definition doesn't get us much further than to remind us that religion deals with the transcendent.

It seems we need to examine the original question again: what is religion? We have noted a few examples of what religion is not. Religion is not merely a list of things religious people do. Religion is not simply a lifestyle adjustment to an unseen order. Religion is not what you do when you're alone. And religion is not just an intellectual recognition of contrasts in reality.

Religion, it would seem, is quite hard to define. I think this is true in part because of its inherently vague grammatical application. Austin Cline notes that,

"Definitions of religion tend to suffer from one of two problems: they are either too narrow and exclude many belief systems which most agree are religious, or they are too vague and ambiguous, suggesting that just about any and everything is a religion."

Saying 'cancer' is an umbrella term that connotes some form of auto-immune disorder. Similarly, 'religion' is a catch-all phrase that connotes the dispositions of certain groups of people toward a set of propositions concerning the supernatural. Then again, certain religious people (those who claim a 'religion') are not supernaturalists so much as they are idealists (e.g., some forms of Buddhism are described as atheistic; Mahayanic Buddhism comes to mind). Thus the word 'religion' can run us adrift of helpful understanding.

Some people consider the word 'religion' to be notional. It does not denote anything actual, or real. Jonathan Z. Smith writes in Imagining Religion:

“...while there is a staggering amount of data, phenomena, of human experiences and expressions that might be characterized in one culture or another, by one criterion or another, as religion — there is no data for religion. Religion is solely the creation of the scholar’s study. It is created for the scholar’s analytic purposes by his imaginative acts of comparison and generalization. Religion has no existence apart from the academy.”*

Smith's observation on the classification and definition of religion is keen and helpful. 'Religion' is a blanket term used to quickly, and easily categorize an area of experience and activity obvious in all human cultures. Given Smith's observation, using the term 'religion' at once expresses a common understanding without drawing attention to any one particular faith-claim (e.g., Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Zoroastrianism, Bahá'í, et al.). But for the purposes of conversation, small qualifications are certainly needed. I would do poorly to speak with a Muslim about religion while not clarifying whether I am speaking in the context of his/her religion.

If the term 'religion' is a bit of a chimera made understandable by its attachment to academic generalizations, then whatever definition I give will necessarily enjoy the same attachment. Be that as it may, here is what I understand 'religion' is: the practice of specific, systematized cultural beliefs usually, but not necessarily, attended by the enjoyment of liturgical rites that anticipate communication with the supernatural, and invite an aesthetic experience of transcendence in the believing subject (person).

My definition is practical only in one sense: it finds a place in the academy Smith refered to earlier. Unfortunately, I don't think anyone can adequately define such a term as 'religion' without getting hung up on definitions that are too wide, and therefore fail to regard differences in varying religious claims; or definitions that are too narrow, and therefore inadequately refer to specific faith-claims.

Religion is a cultural motif. It is an on-going narrative that necessarily changes as the cultural climate changes. Some critics would argue that religion should determine culture (e.g., certain Christian academics feel this is an important action for Christians to undertake, and it is certainly a sentiment that runs quite deep within evangelicalism and American right-wing politics). Others argue that religion should be utterly removed from culture altogether by way of science, another blanket term (e.g., Sam Harris). Both positions on the nature of 'religion' in our on-going cultural narratives miss the point altogether: they are interdependent; we cannot force a religionless culture without removing culture and religion altogether. Both our culture and our religions provide an overarching story of our human experiences, aspirations, failures, growths and setbacks, and future history.

'Religion', as difficult a term it is to parse, is, despite its connotative nature, a very useful word that both binds and separates people, intimates a shared understanding, and provides many fascinating hours of stimulating contemplation.

*Smith's quote can be found in this article.

A Reflection On Morality #1

Anyone following my blog will already know of the large swath of atheist literature in the intellectual marketplace these days. I personally find that quite exciting because I don't think the Christian life can be lived out without thoughtfully considering philosophies that oppose it. A person who never encounters philosophical objections to their Christian faith does not have a blind faith so much as a blind knowledge and crippled ability to relate to those of different worldviews.

Undertaking to read as much of the New Atheist's literature as I can during the 2009 year has resulted, quite logically, in many difficult challenges to what I believe. In some cases, what I believe has been altered dramatically. For example, I used to believe that a person could not be truly moral in any ontological sense if they lacked belief in God. I don't believe that any longer for the simple reason that it is empirically demonstrable that our social inclinations as a species demands a pre-existing moral framework, belief or not. Hence there are a good many atheists who are morally upstanding individuals, and many Christians with the moral leanings of sociopaths.

If such is the case, Christians do not have an ethical high-ground whereby their religious views trump the moral efforts, reflections, inquiries, and formulations of non-believers and secularists. We're on level ground if we admit that morality is innate to the human species, whether a person believes or not. What a Christian does have is a presupposed grounds for the origins of morality: the Holy Trinity. Whereas the atheist, secularist, or anti-theist may presuppose morality in light of social Darwinism and the organising practices that necessarily come about to maintain a community, or nation; in effect, morality is an accretion of social contracts meant to ensure the survival of the species.

Despite the claims of the New Atheists that faith is a "mind-virus" (a term coined by Richard Dawkins), if we're on level ground to examine moral action, at what point is there any reason why atheists and Christians cannot work together to effect a more harmonious existence with each other? What logical reason is there then for someone like, say, Sam Harris to call for the eradication of religion, to attack it vehemently in an effort to help religion "slide into obsolescence" (The End of Faith, p. 14)? How does the eradication of one spectrum of human existence justify the continuance of another spectrum of human continuance? In other words, how does the destruction of religious worldviews justify the on-going disbelief in atheistic philosophy? What moral harmony is accomplished, what help to the surival of our species is acheived through obliterating faith, and religious hope?

*Thanks to Parenting Beyond Belief for the picture.

Interview With Terry Eagleton

The Rationalist Association recently published an excellent article detailing Terry Eagleton's philosophical differences with Ditchkins (a portmanteau of the celebrity atheists Dawkins and Hitchens).

For those who are interested in reading about religion's cultured (you know: fermented!) despisers it is a fairly heady, but excellent and worthwhile read.

Enjoy!

Mainstream

I posted an article earlier this week and hoped that it would bring about some fruitful discussion. Instead, it degenerated and went nowhere.

One thing that did come of it, however, is the necessity to define what 'mainstream' culture is. Since being labelled 'mainstream' has brought about offense here at St. Cynic, I thought it would be fitting to attempt to clarify what I mean by 'mainstream'. Not because I want to remove any offense given, but because I find it especially important to offend with good reason.

The adjective form (and the form that is most commonly used at St. Cynic) of 'mainstream', according to Random House Dictionary, 2009 is “belonging to or characteristic of a prinicple, dominant, or widely accepted group, movement, style, etc.” Accordingly, someone being labelled 'mainstream' is being observed to be part of the most prevalent and commonly accepted idea, group, or trend within a given culture.

For example, if the majority of people in Toronto, Canada wore bell-bottom pants with bedazzler-laden pleather cowboy boots, that would be the 'mainstream' fashion choice. Rejecting such a hideous fashion choice, however, would put one outside of the 'mainstream'.

Examples abound of non-mainstream choices: anti-vaccination, family-led learning, barefooting, eco-building, co-sleeping/family beds, child-led weaning from the breast (breast milk isn't best, it's the default), ancestral traditional diets, embraced symbiosis with microbes, intact genitalia for both sexes, libertarianism, bartering, wholistic healthcare, small poly-culture family-based farming, off-grid living, large familes, squating toilets, television free, and the list goes on almost as extensively as what is deemed 'mainstream'.

To be sure, being mainstream affords many comforts: predictability, wide social acceptance, political favour, being able to make full use of government services, potential for being mostly conflict free in daily social rigours, being able to count yourself as 'normal' (that is, fitting in), having an impact within societal systems, being able to empathize with more of the general population, the virtue of blissful ignorance (not my interpretation, I've been told this one more than a few times), etc.

So while I don't participate in much of what is mainstream, and do have a disdain for much of what is touted as acceptable within mainstream, I don't necessarily consider it bad, or evil or anything quite so jejune. It simply is what it is: ever-shifting according to the zeitgeist (spirit of the times). So, if the zeitgeist is sick, so is the mainstream. If it is well, likewise.

Our current zeitgeist is clearly in need of some major reparation, and TLC.

What I'm Currently Reading

If it actually interests anyone, I don't know, but I like to post my current reading projects.  I figure it may help readers trackback through my posts and understand the formation of my queries, meanderings, and doctrinal re-alignments.  So without further ado, here is my current reading list (and yes, I have finished the books I've listed previously).

I've had to pick Dawkins's book up for the 3rd time.  I'm bound and determined to finish it, but I find Dawkins to be such a ponderously "crappy philosopher" (David Berlinski, from Expelled by Ben Stein) that reading Dawkins's manifesto for atheism is -- what I imagine -- melting lozenges in one's eyes must feel like.

I'm hoping for a bit more of a rigorous read from Stenger, and by all accounts I've read about, Stenger goes the distance Dawkins can't seem to articulate.

Fairly soon, I'll have a review of Daniel Dennett's Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon, as promised to Ed of "Pilgrim. Not. Wanderer".

Two Corrections

It seems that a little perspective is in order on this blog. A couple of people have become rather upset at the use of sarcasm and irony on the site. In fact, at least one of those people has taken the wry humour of the board much too personally. In light of that, I have decided to write this latest article to correct what seems to me to be two mistakes:

1) This board is a place where ideas/topics/discussions are 'safe'; that is, free from criticism, and the occasional jeers, sneers, and punchy remarks that would naturally be implied from a title like St. Cynic.

2) That this board does not respect differences of opinion.

St. Cynic was not created to be a 'safe' place, a place where conversation can happen without fear of criticism. As anyone who has spent time in any academic circles will know, criticism helps drive improvement, and can also cause the less emotionally stable to feel as if they don't measure up, or are somehow less than others. Having been one of the people who was less emotionally stable during my formal academic years, I can vouch for the fact that criticism can hurt. However, having come through that, I have learned to enjoy the benefits that criticism can engender: sharper thinking, more varied perspectives, keener intuition, and a deeper ability to relate to others even if we hold to different opinions.

Lately though, it seems as if some people I have criticized, or *gasp* attempted to correct here at St. Cynic have become overwrought. I have received nasty emails, and been scolded in the comments sections. I'm not too concerned about this because I figured it would happen eventually, anyway; telling what you perceive to be the truth, or throwing a few grains of sarcasm at what you perceive to be an absurdity really angers people, it seems. Even more, proposing a view that seems interesting, but that you don't necessarily hold, infuriates some.

What I find interesting about this reality, however, is that these same people would most likely sit down and laugh with me at more direct attempts at entertainment. For example, if I were to share some viewing time with these people watching a movie like, say, Dogma, or Religulous there would be no concern about the criticism those movies offer. There would be no upset with the cynicism, sarcasm, and sometimes even outright hostility brought to bear on the religious via the aforementioned movies. In fact, they would probably provoke some interesting and humourous conversation, and help unveil some mutual perspectives. But open up a blog and deal with religious and philosophical topics with the same eye toward playful sarcasm, and jocular remarks -- well, that's just going too far!

Now those same people who would probably laugh at the movies I listed, once the hot-seat is under them, call my wife and I 'arrogant' and that we 'need to belittle' and cannot be 'civil', and deal with 'theological lightweights', are unable to avoid 'beating around the bush', and are, in fact, 'obtuse'.

Personally, because the intended ironic nature of the board St. Cynic seems to have been lost on these accusers, I have no problem dismissing their concerns as what they are: ad hominem attacks. I don't feel personally liable for their emotional outbursts about the contents of this site, and don't see any reason to change the trajectory of the blog simply because a couple of people don't seem to have the emotional security to deal with responses they may not like.

I do think it is necessary to bring up an old addage, however: if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. Which is apparently what they've decided to do. Fair enough.

But then I question myself, "Am I treating others the way I would expect to be treated?" Yes! And if the people who have taken offence would care to notice, I haven't (to the best of my remembrance) leveled a derogatory remark, a personally biting comment, or launced an ad hominem attack on them at all. Given that, I would find it entirely fair if they were to deal with me in the same teasing, satirical, and punchy way. It's always a welcome opportunity, from my perspective, to laugh at myself and all my missteps, quirks, wrong-headedness, and general asininity.

So, is St. Cynic a 'safe' place? Heavens, no! And it was never intended to be. It has always been my intention with this blog to spur people on, level criticisms, make sarcastic commentaries, and satirize people, places, events, and topics. At the same time, while doing so, I hope to remove some of the barriers to the ways we think by calling down the absurdities of our culture, the religion I participate in, and some of the tripe-filled social conventions we (strangely) trap ourselves in. If you get any of that from this site, great! But if you find a scathing comment, or a mocking picture that happens to hit on something to do with you, don't hold me accountable to how you choose to feel about what I write. And especially don't insult me with petty ad hominems when you run up against your personal limitations. As a wise friend once told me, "sometimes it's good to be offended: it lets you know where you are."

That brings us to the second misconception about St. Cynic: it does not respect, and is even a 'hostile environment' for differences of opinion.

Nonsense.

The fact that so many differing opinions have been hosted on this site, examined, questioned, culled from, and dismantled at times is proof to the contrary. St. Cynic, with the intentions I have noted above, is a place specifically for dissenting opinions. And the person who accused me of hosting a 'hostile environment' to different opinions knows my wife and I to dissent from many, if not most, conventional opinions.

That same person has also made regular comments that note a radically different perspective than mine, and they have all been treated with welcome, even complimented at times, and given the same zinger-or-two that anyone can expect from this site. More, some of the readers of this site, who occasionally comment, have remarked that they're happy to have a place where they can air their dissenting perspectives without having to fear ostracization. So it would seem that the evidence stacks against the accusation that St. Cynic is a 'hostile environment' to different opinions. In fact, the evidence seems to suggest that St. Cynic openly welcomes different opinions.

So, as the crass saying goes, "opinions are like assholes: everyone's got one!" If you want to share (an opinion, that is), you're welcome to. Just understand that everyone is equally fodder for fire. If you can handle that, then all will be well at St. Cynic.

Ads Promote Conversation

It seems as if the 'anti-God' bus ad campaign is picking up speed and spreading beyond the boarders of England and America.

"The anti-God bus ad campaign has now spread beyond the borders of England to the heavily Catholic nations of Spain and was also scheduled to start appearing in Italy next month."

The world did become largely Christianized through similar measures as atheists are taking now: propaganda. I suppose some merit can be proffered atheists since this present campaign to wipe-out God is more peaceful than, say, the anti-religious cleansings propagated by Mao Zedong, and Stalin (who, combined, are responsible for the deaths of almost 100 million people); not to mention lesser atheist bad-asses like Pol Pot, Fidel Castro, and Kim Jong-il. So we can all rest assured that this time, the atheists bent on removing God from the daily workings of human life are going about things with less gusto.

Still, the fact that atheists have less gusto this time around does not mean they lack stridency. On the contrary, they're decidedly vocal with their advertisements, the most popular one of which states, "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life." But this is not the only slogan:

"...in Italy, home of the Roman Catholic headquarters, buses with the slogan, “The bad news is that God does not exist. The good news is that we do not need him,” was scheduled to start appearing in the northern city of Genoa on Feb. 4. "

That slogan met a quick end, however, when a bevy of conservative protestors managed to have it stopped.

What tickles me about these slogans, however, is that neither of them is empirically provable. At best, this should give the atheists asserting these campaigns a moment of pause. For, if the pride of atheism is (as Hitchens, Dawkins, Dennett, and Harris say it is) the rational life as understood through science and Darwinian natural selection, then there must be some empirical evidence, some kind of evolutionary proof de jour to support such bold-faced claims.

Put the other way around, if confronted by ads from the religious community, a simple response from atheists would be to say that the religious have the burden of proof to demonstrate that God does exist. However, since these atheist ads assert their message by way of negation ("there is no God"), they would do well to establish physical evidence to prove their universal logical negative -- which is impossible, and thereby not worth consideration.

Or is it?

"Other Christians, however, have reacted positively to the 'No God' campaign, saying that it helps spark debate and provides an opportunity to talk about God."

That's a decent perspective. I can agree to that. However, if this conversation is going to happen, we're going to have to have it on a much more sophisticated level than the playground academics of "yes He is," "no he's not" that we've seen so far. When this happens, whatever proof one thinks he has -- no matter how valid it might be -- is just a red-herring that leads to the usual end in these conversations: talking past each other, not to each other.

Atheism Rides the Bus

Let's not beat around the bus here: we're going to have atheist bus ads in Toronto, Canada. It's being called a 'campaign' and it's definitely a peaceful crusade. That's if you call trying to deconvert people 'peaceful', mind you.

I do like, however, how the Erasmus of the article bears the same name as the Catholic Christian, Erasmus, of the 16th century. It's a delicious -- even if pedantic and meaningless -- historical irony.

Relativism: A Sympathy Extended

It re-occured to me today as I re-read most of the comments made in the last few days in "Atheophobia?" and "Pro-Christmas/Anti-Atheist Campaign" that a good deal of the philosophy of relativism is disingenuous at best, and social engineering at worst. I was taken aback again by my wife's rather poignant comment that a friend of mine has unwittingly fallen prey to a conformist mindset, while at the same time probably not believing himself to be a conformist. I wondered how this could happen? How can a reasonably intelligent person look around at the condition of our world, live within Western culture and believe the psychobabble moonshine of relativism as a worthwhile notion to conform to?

Not really having a formal answer of my own -- I did have a few inarticulate hunches -- I went on reading some articles dealing with the subject. Of relativism, that is. I came across this particular article via Arts & Letters Daily, and was struck by its humour, intelligence, and sympathy. I think now I have a better handle on why my friend allows his mind to be ploughed by the blades of relativism, and why he might not agree that he is a conformist, even though on a pragmatic and political level he comes across as one.

Pro-Christmas/Anti-Atheist Campaign

Well, atheists pushed the public's awareness of the possibility of no God/gods by purchasing advertising space on buses. As a counter measure, Catholics have taken out advertising space on a US bus line, also.

I guess it won't be long now before religious factions everywhere are doing the same thing, and our buses read like some sort of syncretistic cult show.

Let the games begin!

Anti-Christianity and the Burning Stupid

Shall I dissect?  Or shall I have mercy?  I can't decide.