Resolution number 638: Do not watch movies whose titles start with “I know...”.
“I know who killed me”, as the name should suggest to any person with half his brain awake, is probably the saddest thing that happened to cinema screens.
Psychotic pianists, stigmatic twins, lame symbolism.. the movie even attempts at a motif.
I'll tell you what it is all about : (SPOILER ALERT people, although if you WANT to watch this movie, you should reflect on your tendency to make bad choices)
Lindsay Lohan – only daughter of affluent suburban parents who chooses writing over the piano goes to school where a classmate, missing for a few weeks, is found dead, with her right hand and right foot missing. Serial killer alert.
What do you know, soon enough Lindsay goes missing. Gore gore gore, fake blood fake blood fake blood, and Lindsay is found comatose in a ditch, minus a hand and a leg herself. Only, when she comes to, she claims to be someone else – as it happens to be, a character from Lindsay the writer's book. Hm... gravy.
Bearded forensic psychologists, split personality theory and regular such mulch for a while, and then boom – they throw stigmatic twins at you. There is not one Lindsay, but two (horror of horrors!), the father coughs up the facts – his baby died in the hospital, he bought one child from a poor crackhead mom who had given birth to twins. No apologies to Bollywood. None. Don't you say that plot twist sounds familiar. No it doesn't. Entirely original, I tell you. It came to the writer in the shower.
So anyway, stigmatic twins means that while this writer chick is undergoing leisurely dismemberment somewhere, her stripper twin bleeds spontaneously. Chop off Lindsay 1's finger, and sure enough, Lindsay 2 will pop a digit too. All blue and bloody, lying on the carpet. Elegant.
All that is well enough, but if you are wondering how she came to share the name and history of a character in Lindsay 1's book, you are clever and should be ashamed of watching such movies.
Finally, no thanks to the FBI, we learn that the bad guy is the pissed-off piano teacher who doesn't take well to students who quit on him. I of course knew who-done-it 10 minutes into the movie – I've had to deal with maniacal music teachers since age 5 up.
So brave little Lindsay 2 hobbles down to spooky house where she knows Lindsay 1 is being butchered in the basement (how does she know? – it has to do with blue flowers, visions, and an owl) – while rich suburban dad dies trying to rescue daughter, the psychotic pianist is no match for 90 pound armless legless Lindsay 2 whose bionic limbs, moreover, are running out of battery (ooh thrilling race against time!) - she manages to saw off his hand – this obviously doesn't agree with him, so he sulks at the piano and plays sad chords with his left hand till Lindsay 2 can take it no more, and sticks him one between the ribs.
Go Lindsay 2.
Then she limps down to the graveyard where she knows Lindsay 1 has been buried (I told you, owls, visions..), some few hours of digging, and there is our stained glass coffin with the blue rose motif (I just changed my decision on how I want to be put to rest – stained glass coffin it shall be) – Lindsay 2 breaks it open with an iron fist (no really, iron fist – she has a bionic hand, don't you pay attention?) - lo and behold! Lindsay 1 is alive and well, for someone who has been systematically cut up and then sealed and buried in an airless coffin for what has to have been hours.
Daniel did lecture me that the faults of this movie were not really faults, but “features” specific to it's genre, which apparently is "teen slasher". Good to know.
Boys and girls, This movie is like strangers with candy. Highly avoidable.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
head over heels.
I was at the Six Flags great America amusement park last Saturday, and it has to be one of the most supremely unnecessary things I could have done in life. Never having ridden a roller coaster, I was serenely confident in my ability to stomach a ride. It did not occur to me that my mental image of myself as an adventure loving cool chick had no basis in reality whatsoever.
The first ride i went on, apparently a simple one, corrected that error and helped me reach an important truth – I was not cool.
Daniel and I got on to this idiotic contraption called The Batman, and i cannot imagine how I could have missed the obvious fact that our seats were attached not to the floor like they should be in any decent setting, but shoulder up to the roof, so that we were hanging like so much beef on meat hooks. As the ride shot out, i was still too caught up in my overinflated self image to notice that at the speed at which we had shot out, good things couldn't happen. Then the car took its first insane spin and I was presented with the alarming sight of the sky over my feet, and that was my cue to shut my eyes tight, deny recognition to reality, curl up as tightly as possible, and whimper the names of long forgotten deities from my grandmother's native village.
It was over rather quickly - either that or I have remarkable mastery over the unhealthy habit of suppressing unpleasant memories. I stepped out giddily, telling myself none of this ever happened. Denial is easier than accepting cowardice. Now, that is the kind of self-kidding that gets you into deeper trouble, for next thing I know, I was strapped and fastened on to a very shoddy looking contraption, on my way up the ominous incline of The Raging Bull. On the slow climb, I chanted “This is fun I am not going to die”, and beginning at that awful first drop, and lasting through all the savagery that followed, I produced a scream of such exquisite timber that after i got off, I was left with torn vocal chords, blood in my mouth, and no dignity whatsoever.
I did do a few more rides, none of them pleasant, although I resolutely refused to climb on to the wilder ones like velocity and Superman. it would have been a day entirely wasted had I not discovered this excellent contraption called the river side crawler, a large spidery thing that had baskets strung to it's arms, and will spin you around till you are pleasantly dizzy. I took five repeat rides on this one, accompanied by several 5 year olds and Dnaiel, all shamed and smarting. I was finally enjoying myself, like the lady at the Park's entry gate told me to.
Roller coasters are supposed to be scary, you are supposed to feel that you are pretty much going to die. But why do some of us feel the resentment that we do towards them? I think it has to do with the sheer indignity of being trussed up like poultry and being tossed about, all the while having no say in the matter. It is impossible to maintain the steady eye and the cool brow. There is no escaping the silliness.
On a different note, money and desk jobs have driven us to such desperate boredom that for a giggle, we are willing to be flung around by our nose hair.
THE RAGING BULL:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=gyMOXQBxJWA
BATMAN THE RIDE (3D simulation)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=usFi5J6B96Q
Next ride KINGDA KA : think this is the biggest / baddest or something of that sort - Daniel is planning a pilgrimage to this one)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Q2cdqDMcUW0
The first ride i went on, apparently a simple one, corrected that error and helped me reach an important truth – I was not cool.
Daniel and I got on to this idiotic contraption called The Batman, and i cannot imagine how I could have missed the obvious fact that our seats were attached not to the floor like they should be in any decent setting, but shoulder up to the roof, so that we were hanging like so much beef on meat hooks. As the ride shot out, i was still too caught up in my overinflated self image to notice that at the speed at which we had shot out, good things couldn't happen. Then the car took its first insane spin and I was presented with the alarming sight of the sky over my feet, and that was my cue to shut my eyes tight, deny recognition to reality, curl up as tightly as possible, and whimper the names of long forgotten deities from my grandmother's native village.
It was over rather quickly - either that or I have remarkable mastery over the unhealthy habit of suppressing unpleasant memories. I stepped out giddily, telling myself none of this ever happened. Denial is easier than accepting cowardice. Now, that is the kind of self-kidding that gets you into deeper trouble, for next thing I know, I was strapped and fastened on to a very shoddy looking contraption, on my way up the ominous incline of The Raging Bull. On the slow climb, I chanted “This is fun I am not going to die”, and beginning at that awful first drop, and lasting through all the savagery that followed, I produced a scream of such exquisite timber that after i got off, I was left with torn vocal chords, blood in my mouth, and no dignity whatsoever.
I did do a few more rides, none of them pleasant, although I resolutely refused to climb on to the wilder ones like velocity and Superman. it would have been a day entirely wasted had I not discovered this excellent contraption called the river side crawler, a large spidery thing that had baskets strung to it's arms, and will spin you around till you are pleasantly dizzy. I took five repeat rides on this one, accompanied by several 5 year olds and Dnaiel, all shamed and smarting. I was finally enjoying myself, like the lady at the Park's entry gate told me to.
Roller coasters are supposed to be scary, you are supposed to feel that you are pretty much going to die. But why do some of us feel the resentment that we do towards them? I think it has to do with the sheer indignity of being trussed up like poultry and being tossed about, all the while having no say in the matter. It is impossible to maintain the steady eye and the cool brow. There is no escaping the silliness.
On a different note, money and desk jobs have driven us to such desperate boredom that for a giggle, we are willing to be flung around by our nose hair.
THE RAGING BULL:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=gyMOXQBxJWA
BATMAN THE RIDE (3D simulation)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=usFi5J6B96Q
Next ride KINGDA KA : think this is the biggest / baddest or something of that sort - Daniel is planning a pilgrimage to this one)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Q2cdqDMcUW0
Friday, May 11, 2007
Ritual Rebirth
I am spinning these theories form some ideas presented in Joseph Campbell's “Masks of God”.
The basis for what follows is primarily the Freudian theory of castration anxiety – that young boys suffer from a natural jealousy of the status their fathers enjoy with their mothers (oedipal complex), and also fear that their fathers will somehow separate them from their mothers, and will castrate them (castration anxiety) as an eventual punishment. In a sense, the father is seen as the first enemy – a provider, but also a villain – fear of castration is considered by many to be instinctive to man, probably a fear founded in the natural instinct to preserve oneself for the purpose of reproduction. It would be logical to assume therefore, that next to fear of death, threat of castration would be one's greatest fear.
According to this theory, all anxieties can be traced back to the fundamental fear of separation from mother, and ultimately of castration. Now in many tribal societies (JC quotes a central Australian tribe, and draws parallels from others), a lot of importance is given to the “coming of age ritual” which often coincides with puberty. In the tribe in question, there is myth parents tell their kids, that little boys will one day be taken away to the woods and given away to a spirit that lives in the woods – the little boy will be killed and eaten by this spirit, and after a few days, in place of the boy, a man will emerge. This is an unchallenged belief of sorts.
When a boy reaches an appropriate age (pre-/early-teens ?), he is pounced upon one evening without warning, by the men of his village - primarily his father, older brothers and uncles- and carried off into the woods in a great show of aggression and screaming, while the female relatives stay back in the village, wailing in fear and anguish. Over the following few days, elaborate rituals are held in the woods, most of which the terrified boy is not permitted to see, being placed in seclusion in a brake of bushes. All he hears are the terrifying roars that he knows to associate with the spirit that will eventually eat him – he has heard the story from his mother and elders, and has heard the spirit's screams from the woods on similar occasions when his brothers and other older village boys were taken away in a similar fashion. Basically, for the entire period of the rituals, he experiences terrible fear.
At the culminating event, he is grabbed by men wearing paint and masks, and while being held down by other men, is circumcised in a ritual in which his father is among the main “perpetrators”. There is no warning about the circumcision, the boy would have had no idea that such a ritual was to take place – in a few moments, the unthinkable has happened – his castration fears have been realized. But when the ritual is over, the boy realizes that he has survived, and his father and other male relatives treat him with extreme camaraderie unusual to the boy who is usually dismissed as a child, and it is revealed to him that the screams that he has often heard during “coming of age” rituals of others in the woods are generated not by a spirit, but by a bull roarer – a wooden contraption. The boy is sworn into secrecy, and is never to reveal the proceedings in woods, the details of the rituals, the circumcision and the secret of the screaming bull-roarer to anybody at all, not to younger children, not to women, ever. It is a sort of a man's secret, upon disclosing which terrible ills will follow. Following which, there is, one can assume, some amount of manly merrymaking where the boy is included and treated for the first time as a man and as an equal.
Thus, some of the worst lingering fears of the man child are heightened, realized, and finally dispelled. In his unannounced circumcision, his castration fear is practically realized; in finding out that the screaming spirit is in reality just a bull-roarer, his last childish spooks are dispelled – he returns, therefore, truly a man, having met the villain he always suspected in his dad, “dying” at his hands, and being “reborn” as a man liberated from childish fears and anxieties, accepted and treated by the father as an equal. Thus the boy experiences “death” and 'ritual rebirth” at his father's hands.
Back at the village, the enormous transformation in the boy's countenance and behavior is proof to the women that their little boy indeed has been taken away by the spirit, and instead, a man has been sent. Thus, the myth of “child reborn as man”' is realized.
Every society, if you notice, has some sort of a coming of age ritual for children of both sexes – these might vary in intensity and purpose, depending upon the circumstances and chief occupation of the tribe in question. Think about first confirmation among catholics, circumcision among muslim boys etc., or the “upanayanam” among the brahmins where a great deal of attention is showered over the young boy who thus far was mostly “ignored” as a mere child. The ceremony is considered a ritual “rebirth” of the child as a scholar, as a celibate man. Puberty feasts for for the girl child take a similar note, where she has a ritual bath and is in a sense reborn as a woman.
Whatever the social meaning of these rituals, one of the effects seems to be that of marking a milestone in the child's mind – making a big deal out of their puberty by grown ups who usually ignore them makes it an important and meaningful event for them – it draws a clear line of change – they see it in full seriousness as the day when they are to shed their childlike ways and assume the role of an adult. The mere suddenness and seriousness of the event serves as a sort of rude shock – pleasant or unpleasant – that forces them to move into a new sphere of life, and make a clean break with childhood.
This now makes me wonder about certain issues of we face today – particularly the angst that many of us seem to suffer from starting at remarkably early on... Most of us will agree that roles and responsibilities do not sit on our shoulders as easily as they did on those of our parents, who undoubtedly lived in direr circumstances than we do today. We seems to carry anxieties in us that somehow didn't seem to bother our parents, even though such anxieties are real and not imagined. Irrespective of our age, our identity as an adult / child seems blurred, as is sometimes seen in our decisions and behavior. In similar situations, our parents would have reacted in what would be considered a far more adult fashion, even if they ended up doing something unintelligent or illogical – they would have done what adults were supposed to do. (read that as “giving up your desire to marry someone / take a certain job for the sake of family / society is the mature/sensible/grown-up thing to do.” Not necessarily the logical/intelligent thing of course, but it is a decision that to them is obvious and dignified.)
Now, I wonder if the constant and unresolved anxieties and blurred identities that plague our generation are at least in part because of the lack of strong coming of age ceremonies that would have serve to sear into our minds lines demarcating phases in our lives – We have not had 'rude awakenings” into adulthood, and therefore linger in a sort of “half awake” state where we are never clear if we are to react as an adult (I must) or as a child (I want) to a given situation. Our childhood castration anxieties and separation fears seem to continue, we continue to look upon the parent as a necessary provider / potential threat – this last a sentiment rarely if ever seen among our own parents, and they look far more fondly, I think, towards their own parents that we really do, even though they were likely treated to harsher disciplining that we ever were, and enjoyed lesser familiarity and closeness with their own parents than we do today.
NOTE : Like always, I am not taking any sides. I am not on trying to start religious revival movements. I am not suggesting that rites of anysort be reistilled / fortified. I am not for parents chasing after kids with castration devices. I am still zealously left liberal and I shall defend unto death anyone's right to existential angst. So please dont start hammering me with How-dare-you's.
That being said, huge caveat on all this. These are just musings. I am widely accused, and not always without cause, of not knowing what I am talking about.
Share your thoughts.
The basis for what follows is primarily the Freudian theory of castration anxiety – that young boys suffer from a natural jealousy of the status their fathers enjoy with their mothers (oedipal complex), and also fear that their fathers will somehow separate them from their mothers, and will castrate them (castration anxiety) as an eventual punishment. In a sense, the father is seen as the first enemy – a provider, but also a villain – fear of castration is considered by many to be instinctive to man, probably a fear founded in the natural instinct to preserve oneself for the purpose of reproduction. It would be logical to assume therefore, that next to fear of death, threat of castration would be one's greatest fear.
According to this theory, all anxieties can be traced back to the fundamental fear of separation from mother, and ultimately of castration. Now in many tribal societies (JC quotes a central Australian tribe, and draws parallels from others), a lot of importance is given to the “coming of age ritual” which often coincides with puberty. In the tribe in question, there is myth parents tell their kids, that little boys will one day be taken away to the woods and given away to a spirit that lives in the woods – the little boy will be killed and eaten by this spirit, and after a few days, in place of the boy, a man will emerge. This is an unchallenged belief of sorts.
When a boy reaches an appropriate age (pre-/early-teens ?), he is pounced upon one evening without warning, by the men of his village - primarily his father, older brothers and uncles- and carried off into the woods in a great show of aggression and screaming, while the female relatives stay back in the village, wailing in fear and anguish. Over the following few days, elaborate rituals are held in the woods, most of which the terrified boy is not permitted to see, being placed in seclusion in a brake of bushes. All he hears are the terrifying roars that he knows to associate with the spirit that will eventually eat him – he has heard the story from his mother and elders, and has heard the spirit's screams from the woods on similar occasions when his brothers and other older village boys were taken away in a similar fashion. Basically, for the entire period of the rituals, he experiences terrible fear.
At the culminating event, he is grabbed by men wearing paint and masks, and while being held down by other men, is circumcised in a ritual in which his father is among the main “perpetrators”. There is no warning about the circumcision, the boy would have had no idea that such a ritual was to take place – in a few moments, the unthinkable has happened – his castration fears have been realized. But when the ritual is over, the boy realizes that he has survived, and his father and other male relatives treat him with extreme camaraderie unusual to the boy who is usually dismissed as a child, and it is revealed to him that the screams that he has often heard during “coming of age” rituals of others in the woods are generated not by a spirit, but by a bull roarer – a wooden contraption. The boy is sworn into secrecy, and is never to reveal the proceedings in woods, the details of the rituals, the circumcision and the secret of the screaming bull-roarer to anybody at all, not to younger children, not to women, ever. It is a sort of a man's secret, upon disclosing which terrible ills will follow. Following which, there is, one can assume, some amount of manly merrymaking where the boy is included and treated for the first time as a man and as an equal.
Thus, some of the worst lingering fears of the man child are heightened, realized, and finally dispelled. In his unannounced circumcision, his castration fear is practically realized; in finding out that the screaming spirit is in reality just a bull-roarer, his last childish spooks are dispelled – he returns, therefore, truly a man, having met the villain he always suspected in his dad, “dying” at his hands, and being “reborn” as a man liberated from childish fears and anxieties, accepted and treated by the father as an equal. Thus the boy experiences “death” and 'ritual rebirth” at his father's hands.
Back at the village, the enormous transformation in the boy's countenance and behavior is proof to the women that their little boy indeed has been taken away by the spirit, and instead, a man has been sent. Thus, the myth of “child reborn as man”' is realized.
Every society, if you notice, has some sort of a coming of age ritual for children of both sexes – these might vary in intensity and purpose, depending upon the circumstances and chief occupation of the tribe in question. Think about first confirmation among catholics, circumcision among muslim boys etc., or the “upanayanam” among the brahmins where a great deal of attention is showered over the young boy who thus far was mostly “ignored” as a mere child. The ceremony is considered a ritual “rebirth” of the child as a scholar, as a celibate man. Puberty feasts for for the girl child take a similar note, where she has a ritual bath and is in a sense reborn as a woman.
Whatever the social meaning of these rituals, one of the effects seems to be that of marking a milestone in the child's mind – making a big deal out of their puberty by grown ups who usually ignore them makes it an important and meaningful event for them – it draws a clear line of change – they see it in full seriousness as the day when they are to shed their childlike ways and assume the role of an adult. The mere suddenness and seriousness of the event serves as a sort of rude shock – pleasant or unpleasant – that forces them to move into a new sphere of life, and make a clean break with childhood.
This now makes me wonder about certain issues of we face today – particularly the angst that many of us seem to suffer from starting at remarkably early on... Most of us will agree that roles and responsibilities do not sit on our shoulders as easily as they did on those of our parents, who undoubtedly lived in direr circumstances than we do today. We seems to carry anxieties in us that somehow didn't seem to bother our parents, even though such anxieties are real and not imagined. Irrespective of our age, our identity as an adult / child seems blurred, as is sometimes seen in our decisions and behavior. In similar situations, our parents would have reacted in what would be considered a far more adult fashion, even if they ended up doing something unintelligent or illogical – they would have done what adults were supposed to do. (read that as “giving up your desire to marry someone / take a certain job for the sake of family / society is the mature/sensible/grown-up thing to do.” Not necessarily the logical/intelligent thing of course, but it is a decision that to them is obvious and dignified.)
Now, I wonder if the constant and unresolved anxieties and blurred identities that plague our generation are at least in part because of the lack of strong coming of age ceremonies that would have serve to sear into our minds lines demarcating phases in our lives – We have not had 'rude awakenings” into adulthood, and therefore linger in a sort of “half awake” state where we are never clear if we are to react as an adult (I must) or as a child (I want) to a given situation. Our childhood castration anxieties and separation fears seem to continue, we continue to look upon the parent as a necessary provider / potential threat – this last a sentiment rarely if ever seen among our own parents, and they look far more fondly, I think, towards their own parents that we really do, even though they were likely treated to harsher disciplining that we ever were, and enjoyed lesser familiarity and closeness with their own parents than we do today.
NOTE : Like always, I am not taking any sides. I am not on trying to start religious revival movements. I am not suggesting that rites of anysort be reistilled / fortified. I am not for parents chasing after kids with castration devices. I am still zealously left liberal and I shall defend unto death anyone's right to existential angst. So please dont start hammering me with How-dare-you's.
That being said, huge caveat on all this. These are just musings. I am widely accused, and not always without cause, of not knowing what I am talking about.
Share your thoughts.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
is science different from religion?
I've probably spoken to some of you about this in the past few months, but it has been working on my mind for quite a while. So here goes.
Is science really different from religion, seeing how the lay person uses either?
Primary premise for religion – thou shalt believe.
Primary premise for science – thou shalt empirical evidence.
Is this how we operate? For example, when we feel a fever coming on, we take a Crocin. I do, because that is what my dad gave me when i caught a fever. Because it has worked in the past. But does a crocin help EVERY single time we get a fever? It doesnt, but we still unfailingly take it. Isn't that a bit like religion? We pray – it may or may not work, but we trust every time that it will. If you find that behavior unscientific, observe your attitude towards doctors – a great majority of the time, doctor visits may not bring any relief , but we go to a doctor all the same – believing that he can cure us. See how it is belief that guides our behavior here, and not empirical evidence?
For the most part, science is accepted at the lay level as a set of belief systems.
This is even more interesting when you consider that the "scientifics" display the same ethnocentric attitudes as the religious do towards another – When someone questions science, he is met with ridicule and chastisement – just as someone who questions religious beliefs among its practitioners would be treated. This behavior is so strongly governed that we are often afraid to question anything that comes labelled as science.
Science does not necessarily provide easier to understand (or even seemingly logical) answers to some questions.
For example – one of these is a world view held by some indigenous people of papua new Guinea, the other is popularly accepted science.
1)The earth is a flat piece of rock covered by a blue bowl – the sun crawls up the inside of the blue bowl from east to west, and disappears under the wester rim in the evening. In the night, it travels across the outer surface of the bowl back towards east, so that it is ready for its inner surface travel next morning. The bowl however, is full of tiny perforations – therefore, in the night when the sun travels on the outer surface, you see the light filtering through as stars.
2)The earth is a ball that hangs in space. Space is a large emptiness. The earth is held in place by its attraction to the sun, which is another large ball , though of fiery gases, that stays hangs in space but stays put. The earth travels around the sun, of its own volition, guided by something called gravity – a type of attraction. This attraction dos not lead the earth to crash into the sun though, as it would seem likely. Only around and around the sun, endlessly.
Which seems more plausible? Why do you choose to believe in one and not the other? If you had no formal scientific or religious education ever, as a healthy thinking adult, which of these would sound more logical? And how much of your choice is guided by your own original thinking, and how much by faith?
Consider, further, that 'scientists” and “priests” have certain shared qualities;
1.Both have to undergo several years of intense education in their respective methods before they are pronounced fit for their label.
2.Both use language and terminology that is not straight-forward to the lay public
3.Both, either directly or indirectly, end up believing that a person who doesn't subscribe to their views are ignorant, dangerous or both.
4.While they are willing to accept what seem absurdities of enormous proportions in their own field, they tolerate no such thing in the other's field.
Let me make a final point with, say, the virus theory as example.
1.Do you believe that viruses cause illness? Why?
2.Have you seen a virus? How probable is it that everyone who believes in their existance has seen one?
3.Do you personally have methods to prove that viruses do exist and do cause illnesses?
Most of us have to resort to our unshakable faith in scientists / doctors - it boils down to trust, in the end.
Now consider this:
1.A person educated in his religion believes that illness is caused by evil spirits / evil eye.
2.He hasn't seen a spirit himself, but is convinced there are other people who have. (his shaman / medicine man / amman koil poosari, for example).
3. He has seen exorcism give relief to others, maybe even to himself, and takes his witch doctor's claims as bonafide.
His world view here boils down to his trust in his witch doctor's special skills / education.
How are we different from this person?
If you catch yourself saying that you know trustworthy scientists that personally know how viruses work, remember that millions of people believe that the pope speaks to god.
Most significantly, believers in science will tolerate anything but disbelief in science. Even questions like the ones raised here are often treated with alarm, and as a kind of blasphemy. as soon as they meet some one who is blatently unscientific, there is a zealous attempt at "conversion", "education" and "enlightening" that rivals any religious missionary. It is here, ironically, that the 'scientifics" resemble their enemies the most.
reactions please.
Is science really different from religion, seeing how the lay person uses either?
Primary premise for religion – thou shalt believe.
Primary premise for science – thou shalt empirical evidence.
Is this how we operate? For example, when we feel a fever coming on, we take a Crocin. I do, because that is what my dad gave me when i caught a fever. Because it has worked in the past. But does a crocin help EVERY single time we get a fever? It doesnt, but we still unfailingly take it. Isn't that a bit like religion? We pray – it may or may not work, but we trust every time that it will. If you find that behavior unscientific, observe your attitude towards doctors – a great majority of the time, doctor visits may not bring any relief , but we go to a doctor all the same – believing that he can cure us. See how it is belief that guides our behavior here, and not empirical evidence?
For the most part, science is accepted at the lay level as a set of belief systems.
This is even more interesting when you consider that the "scientifics" display the same ethnocentric attitudes as the religious do towards another – When someone questions science, he is met with ridicule and chastisement – just as someone who questions religious beliefs among its practitioners would be treated. This behavior is so strongly governed that we are often afraid to question anything that comes labelled as science.
Science does not necessarily provide easier to understand (or even seemingly logical) answers to some questions.
For example – one of these is a world view held by some indigenous people of papua new Guinea, the other is popularly accepted science.
1)The earth is a flat piece of rock covered by a blue bowl – the sun crawls up the inside of the blue bowl from east to west, and disappears under the wester rim in the evening. In the night, it travels across the outer surface of the bowl back towards east, so that it is ready for its inner surface travel next morning. The bowl however, is full of tiny perforations – therefore, in the night when the sun travels on the outer surface, you see the light filtering through as stars.
2)The earth is a ball that hangs in space. Space is a large emptiness. The earth is held in place by its attraction to the sun, which is another large ball , though of fiery gases, that stays hangs in space but stays put. The earth travels around the sun, of its own volition, guided by something called gravity – a type of attraction. This attraction dos not lead the earth to crash into the sun though, as it would seem likely. Only around and around the sun, endlessly.
Which seems more plausible? Why do you choose to believe in one and not the other? If you had no formal scientific or religious education ever, as a healthy thinking adult, which of these would sound more logical? And how much of your choice is guided by your own original thinking, and how much by faith?
Consider, further, that 'scientists” and “priests” have certain shared qualities;
1.Both have to undergo several years of intense education in their respective methods before they are pronounced fit for their label.
2.Both use language and terminology that is not straight-forward to the lay public
3.Both, either directly or indirectly, end up believing that a person who doesn't subscribe to their views are ignorant, dangerous or both.
4.While they are willing to accept what seem absurdities of enormous proportions in their own field, they tolerate no such thing in the other's field.
Let me make a final point with, say, the virus theory as example.
1.Do you believe that viruses cause illness? Why?
2.Have you seen a virus? How probable is it that everyone who believes in their existance has seen one?
3.Do you personally have methods to prove that viruses do exist and do cause illnesses?
Most of us have to resort to our unshakable faith in scientists / doctors - it boils down to trust, in the end.
Now consider this:
1.A person educated in his religion believes that illness is caused by evil spirits / evil eye.
2.He hasn't seen a spirit himself, but is convinced there are other people who have. (his shaman / medicine man / amman koil poosari, for example).
3. He has seen exorcism give relief to others, maybe even to himself, and takes his witch doctor's claims as bonafide.
His world view here boils down to his trust in his witch doctor's special skills / education.
How are we different from this person?
If you catch yourself saying that you know trustworthy scientists that personally know how viruses work, remember that millions of people believe that the pope speaks to god.
Most significantly, believers in science will tolerate anything but disbelief in science. Even questions like the ones raised here are often treated with alarm, and as a kind of blasphemy. as soon as they meet some one who is blatently unscientific, there is a zealous attempt at "conversion", "education" and "enlightening" that rivals any religious missionary. It is here, ironically, that the 'scientifics" resemble their enemies the most.
reactions please.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
is patriotism passé?
has anyone noticed that patriotism is turning into this old maid that you dont know what to say to anymore?
i remember school when you were taught to be proud of your flag and such, and i do remember that i considered myself fiercely patriotic in an unquestioning way. but after a really long time, when i tried to visit that part of my brain again, i felt vaguely embarrassed, like when your re-read drafts from third grade of what was going to be the greatest drama ever. Anyway, i coundn't find it anymore, and i dont seem to care.
i dont mean this in a not-black-therefore-white way - pride in one's culture etc is i think inevitable, part of one's identity, but i cannot remember the last time i thought in terms of india vs.
patriotism seems to be this love-that-reasons-not, a sort of unquestioning acceptance of your country, including it's political performance and decisions.
in that sense at least, i dont think we are patriotic in the same way that our parents were.
a world-citizen mentality, maybe fall out of global village idea? i think it is another of those concepts that is rooted in the counter-culture era that has remained to become more and more mainstream.
post your comments.
i remember school when you were taught to be proud of your flag and such, and i do remember that i considered myself fiercely patriotic in an unquestioning way. but after a really long time, when i tried to visit that part of my brain again, i felt vaguely embarrassed, like when your re-read drafts from third grade of what was going to be the greatest drama ever. Anyway, i coundn't find it anymore, and i dont seem to care.
i dont mean this in a not-black-therefore-white way - pride in one's culture etc is i think inevitable, part of one's identity, but i cannot remember the last time i thought in terms of india vs.
patriotism seems to be this love-that-reasons-not, a sort of unquestioning acceptance of your country, including it's political performance and decisions.
in that sense at least, i dont think we are patriotic in the same way that our parents were.
a world-citizen mentality, maybe fall out of global village idea? i think it is another of those concepts that is rooted in the counter-culture era that has remained to become more and more mainstream.
post your comments.
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