Monday, January 16, 2006

The Root of all Evil

I wasn't expecting a theme to surface on this blog, but it appears that the plight of science is of increasing annoyance to me. As I write this I'm watching Richard Dawkins' two-part series the Root of all Evil, a reasoned attack against religion. I wanted to work on my novel, but I couldn't turn this off. It's infuriating me, but I still watch it. Why? I guess to ignore counter-arguments is a little narrow minded - however much counter-argument one can find in this almost propagandist program remains to be seen.

It's quite refreshing to see religion berated for being the cause of the world's evil. I guess to some extent I agree with this; evil is defined by religion, without religion we may not know what is evil. But religion only categorises it, gives it a name (The Devil?) - Evil exists outside religion.

Dawkins continues to claim that science has disproved many of religion's "superstitions", but this is just a logical position overriding a contemporary-culture influenced interpretation, the "superstitions" mean different things to different people. Also, this makes the assumption that science is correct, which even scientists cannot proclaim, the paradox of causality denies that. Furthermore, this just amounts to logic and reason disproving faith. A non-starter, it's like equating fish with spanners; it can't be done. Science, where it believes it has disproved religion, has done so only in the boundaries of its own knowledge.

His use of children to support his argument is sickening; it's sinking low to help prove his reasoning. Religion has it's problems, and I'm in agreement that children need to find their own way, but if you have faith, how can you not wish that on your children; you'd wish to instill morality on them, but faith holds a deeper grip. Throughout the program, Dawkins relies on exterme (or rather eccentric) views on religion, in almost the same way racists support attacks on muslims. His choice of religious representation is narrow and chosen for shock factor.

There is also Dawkins' hollistic view of religion, which cannot be sustained. Religions vary widely, and the atrocities caused by religion frequently amount to fanaticism and extremism, and never can be attributed to the religious whole. It's like grouping all muslims as being in agreement with Bin Laden, which we know to be ludicrous.

Religion may have caused the wars, but science has exploded them. WWII, forged through idealism, globalised through technology. War is a human trait, religion and science are the medium via which it is manifest. If one believes that God, to some extent, controls the world through war, the above still holds true, as it is humanity's darker side that is manipulated.

Again, like I mentioned previously, I don't want a common theme here, but once again Dawkins has shown that sometimes science won't think outside the box; past it's own rules. I don't want to create this theme, because it's not a theme, it's an anti-theme, it doesn't really give me much. Belief by the negation of contrasting views doesn't really strengthen one's views, it just gives the effect of power. Comparing the requirements of man to the requirements of God is again bringing oneself to the same level as God. Religion may always have a catch-all - that God is not man, and that God and His will cannot be judged - but there's little you can do about that.

Religion is not the root of all evil, mankind is. It's mankind's weakness in the face of choice the creates evil.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Omnipotence

I was reading an article the other day, which poised an age old paradox about omnipotence.

"Could an omnipotent being create a rock too heavy for the omnipotent being to lift?"

The implication is that the above paradox disproves omnipotence. This is of course logically sound. And therein lies the key. Omnipotence transcends logic, indeed transcends any kind of rules.

I looked a little deeper into this subject, and it would seem two opposing groups exist (a logic rules all group and a logic rules man group); the Cartesian view was that logic is not an issue to an omnipotent being. The converse of this is that it is a human issue, which got me thinking.

1. Logic is a mechanism by which mankind legitimises itself and its position in the universe.
2. Mankind cannot transcend logic, and thus for all the trying in the world cannot find absolute truths.

Now this may seem a little grim, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel; a pathway to personal emancipation; a mechanism that doesn't allow mankind to transcend logic, rather it is an instance of a mechanism that allows mankind a single opportunity to gain the results that logic transcended allows. It is of course faith.

I'm not preaching here, rather faith is mechanism that anybody can use for a number of purposes - not just a belief in an omnipotent being*, in one swoop it accomplishes everything that logic never could. But it's only one way, a single-use. If logic overpowers faith, then it's not faith; it's still logic.

Think about how useful faith can be.

*I choose this phrase carefully and leave it open to interpretation, but there is only one possible option if you think about.

Schroedinger's Cat

I saw a T-shirt the other day with the logo "Schroedinger's Cat is Dead" emblazoned on it. I didn't understand. My initial thought was that it was a reference to some geek-sheik US Cartoon or 70's sitcom, but I couldn't envision a long-running joke that would satisfy that, and Shroedinger is too complicated a name for US entertainment. Wikipedia assured me of the ill-founded nature of my reasoning; it was Schroedinger the physicist, an Einstein peer who formulated some major parts of Quantum Mechanics.

So how is this of interest to this blog? In what way does it add to the mapped history of this rhetoric? Well, it made me think about Quantum Mechanics, but some of my thoughts on science resurfaced. The paradox, or dilemma Schroedinger's cat poses is thus;

"A Cat is placed in a sealed box, a mechanism triggered upon the decay of a nucleus, terminates the cat. The chance of the nucleus decaying is 50%."

Without getting into detail, the point-for-thought is based around the concept of a 'superposition' (which, I believe, Schroedinger proposed); the notion that where a wavefunction will hit a certain surface cannot be predicted, only presumed; the presumption is indicated by a 'chance of hitting a certain place', and before that the wavefunction is in a multiplicity of states. Thus, the chance of the cat being alive when the box is opened is 50%, but most importantly, before the box is opened the cat is seen as in a superposition - both dead and alive (I would've presumed the cat dead; in my experience, putting cats in sealed boxes almost seals their fate).

My initial thought wasn't on the concept of superposition, or on the workarounds quantum physics has offered. Rather, it highlighted the ludicrousness (ludicrousity?) of a system whereby the result is only determined upon observation. It's the atomic version of 'if a tree falls in the woods, with nobody there, does it make a sound'? This reminded me of Hawking's 'Brief History', especially sections on dark matter. Astrophysicists account for some ridiculous amount of the universe's mass by dark matter, which is only observed via its bending of timespace (I think). Which is fine. But it gives me the impression of a placeholder; it balances the equations, it keeps everything in check. But that doesn't mean it's correct.

My thought here is not concerned with a lack of constant and valid progress produced by science; place holders need to be created, and invalid work is as useful as valid work. Indeed, few would argue against the impressive progression science has made. It's just important to remember that science isn't always right. Especially so with the macro- and micro- scale sciences of astrophysics and quantum mechanics. But not only is it sometimes wrong, it is also sometimes (always?) unfinished. Like a chocolate cake without icing, it may look nice, but don't assume it to be finished. Superpositions do not necessarily exist, they may do, probably do, but we can't be sure. Not to mention Hume's grim thoughts about causality!

Interesting article about the macrorealistic implications: http://www.amherst.edu/~jrfriedman/NYTimes/071100sci-quantum-mechanics.html

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Steinbeck, John: Cannery Row

What a delight to return to Steinbeck's California, and where better than the warm, but ultimately wizzened Monterey. Cannery row is a story about a place and life therein, a place not necessarily like home, but with a familiar intimacy nontheless.

At the Western frontier of the world, in one of the gloomier sectors of America's history, is Cannery Row. No imagery can do better justice to Cannery Row than Steinbeck's own tidepool analogue. It is a tightly-packed microcosm of symbiotic relationships, where each character is as distinct as the lifeforms that populate a tidepool. Each with average characteristics, mundane outlooks and flatlined prospects. But alongside the darkness and solitude, lives beauty, life and balance. The story is about that equilibirum that keeps the community anchored and the inter-dependencies between the struggling creatures that populate the Row. How they rely on one another for life outside existence. Mack and the boys, with their bare-bones lifestyle, stripped of complexities, luxuries and constrictions, Doc with his fine-tuned life-in-statis, and the girls at the whore house with their patchwork quilt. Each esentially lacking the basic glue that binds mankind in intimate relationships, instead binding themselves to the community. Economy figures highly in the daily events, but is carefully tamed and controlled. Simplicity, the very essence of Cannery Row, dictates one input and one output. Shopping away from Lee's store (a wonder in itself, stocking all a Cannery Row inhabitant could desire) is as unfamiliar and undesirable as working in the Canneries. Instead the inhabitants rely on the tidepools.

Perhaps my favourite concept in Cannery Row is the inclusion of a series of interchapters; tiny stories lived in Cannery Row, inconsequential to the plot. These wonderful little sculptures, just momentarily, give you time to blink and see the tidepool from a different perspective. The most significant of these is the story of the gopher, and his doomed paradise - a stark outline of reality against fantasy which stimulates an empathy localised to Steinbeck's tales. The bleak acceptance that the characters have of life within their own world is quite typical of Steinbeck's work; the paralysis of the American Dream; a time when dreams had lost their currency. Though the depression was only transient, it lasted long enough that people had to build a life within it. Perhaps Cannery row is America through a macro lens. A simple story with isolated, grayscale characters brought into technicolor by basic human emotion, resulting in an blurred montage of stunted ideology. Community is a sense quite frequently alien today, perhaps due to a requirement for it that is equally diminished. Steinbeck captures a nook of history and community and lets us wade in it, just for a while. Then we slip off our waders and forget the uneventful, inconsequential life that was Cannery Row as the high tide comes and sweeps it away.