» God

Let's get it out of the way
A message to the believers:
No, ID does not have sound arguments, and its claims are bogus. In no sense are they comparable to naturalistic claims such as one finds within evolutionary biology.
No, evolution is not "just a theory".
No, there is no reason at all to respect your beliefs. You, perhaps. Your beliefs, not so.
No, scientific uncertainty does not mean that we ought to listen to every single hypothesis. Some are clearly wrong.
No, you don't have a right to your beliefs. If they turn out to be mistaken, you have a duty to ditch them; and a person does not wrong you by correcting your errors.
No, your failure to come up with an explanation of the world that does not include god is not evidence for the existence of god; it is evidence of your ignorance.
No, the persistence of religious belief is not evidence that there must be something behind it.
No, the belief in god is not a prerequisite of morality.

To the agnostics:
No, sitting on the fence does not indicate humility and open-mindedness. It indicates intellectual barrenness. Grow up.

To the atheists: don't think you get off. You happen to be correct, but that isn't an excuse for being a prissy little blockhead - and being correct counts for nothing if it's not for the right reasons. You could get that from blind luck.
No, the persistence of evil is not an argument against the existence of god.
No, the persistence of evil actions by religious people is not an argument against religion.
No, you don't have a right to your beliefs, either.

And, finally, the hippies.
No, god is not "inside you".
No, your claims to be a "very spiritual person" do not demonstrate that you are "profound". They demonstrate that you are a cretin.
No, things do not happen for "a reason" if, by "reason", you mean something more than "mechanistic cause". If that is what you mean, your statement is trivial, and it doesn't make you sound deep. You are not even shallow.

It's going to be a looooooooong week.
(Thu 19th Mar 2009, 15:12, More)

» Mix Tapes

A bit early to be a bit off topic, but tough.
To set the scene: my father is an entomologist, and has acquired a degree of expertise in his particular field of research, which is the communication used by social insects. Strictly speaking, we’re more in the territory of compilation albums than mix tapes… but… I don’t care. Sue me.

Early in his career - about 1974, I think - Dad was browsing a record shop and noticed a sign advertising a new album on which were recorded the particular buzzes of each species of European wasp. This was an opportunity not to be missed, and Dad asked if he could have a listen prior to purchase. The shop assistant took him to the listening-booth, and then went to put on the record.

A few minutes later, Dad emerged, nonplussed. “I think there’s something wrong with the equipment,” he said. “I’m fairly good at identifying wasps from their distinctive buzzes, but I recognise none of these.”

The assistant checked the equipment, and Dad was invited to try again. Again, he listened; again, he didn’t recognise anything. Thinking, perhaps, that there was some static on the jack for the headphones, he asked the assistant if it might be possible to play the recording of European wasp buzzes over the shop’s main speaker. The assistant was a bit reluctant – insect drones are not everyone’s favoured listening – but, after an assurance that it’d only be for a minute, he said that it would be possible. Flicking the switch, the assistant filled the shop with the sound of what was, ostensibly, wasps buzzing. But still Dad recognised nothing. As an expert on identifying wasps by their buzz, this was worrying.

The assistant checked the equipment again. All seemed to be in order… until…
“Ah! I know the problem!” interjected another member of the shop staff who had overheard what was going on. “You’re playing the bee side.”





Oh, come on. It’s a rubbish question anyway.
(Thu 7th Feb 2008, 14:14, More)

» Evil Pranks

I killed my grandfather...
My paternal grandparents used to live - when they lived at all, that is - in a house with a large garden. And when I say "large", I mean "measured in acres" kind of large. It was ace; there were lots of rocky bits, coppices, paths through bushes and so on - everything a child could need for hours of adventure.

An obvious trope was to hide behind a bush or rock, wait for someone to come past, and yell "BOO!" at them. One day, that's exactly what I did to my grandfather.

My grandfather, I knew, had a slightly weak heart. I didn't take this into account. I was young.

I could see him coming; I crouched in a clump of bracken. Closer... closer... closer...



"BOO!"

My grandfather looked startled for a moment - but only for a moment. He fell. He stayed fallen.
"Oh, Jesus H Macy; I've fucking killed Grandad," I would have thought had I not been only 9. "Oh, bother, I've flipping well killed Grandad," is what I probably did think.

Not knowing what else to do, I simply looked at his very still body for what looked like hours but can only have been seconds.
"Grandad?" I ventured. "Are you all right? Can you hear me? Grandad?"

Nothing.

More nothing.

Pinteresque nothing.





















"BOO!" he yelled.

I was the one who had a heart attack that day.
(Fri 14th Dec 2007, 9:46, More)

» DIY disasters

Under the floorboards
I re-layed my dining-room floor last summer. On the concrete, before the laminate went down, I wrote in big black marker letters, "HAVE YOU FOUND THE BODIES YET?"

I'm quite proud of that.
(Fri 4th Apr 2008, 11:37, More)

» Accidental animal cruelty

Younger brother, previous cat
It's perhaps a good thing that my brother abandoned his plan to become a vet fairly early on. Although his intentions were often good, the execution thereof wasn't necessarily so.

My family has had a number of cats over the years. On one occasion, when we were both much younger, said brother discovered a zit on the cat's chest, which he attempted to pop.

Except it wasn't a zit. It was a nipple. The cat was less than happy.
(Thu 6th Dec 2007, 11:34, More)