Saturday, November 12, 2011
The Most Important Issue In the Upcoming Election
Thursday, September 22, 2011
In the Search For God
"They believe that something came out of nothing, that reason came from irrationality, that a complex universe and natural order came out of randomness and chaos, that consciousness came from non-consciousness and that life emerged from non-life. Atheists believe, Seddon writes, that “a multiverse (for which there is no experimental or observational evidence) containing an inconceivably large number of universes spontaneously created itself.”
Yet, Hitchens insists, “our belief is not a belief.” Nonsense. Atheism requires a belief in the unbelievable" ..Buchanan(Christmas in the an Anti-Christian Age.)
Throughout known human history, mankind has looked out on the world and observed two things; first an apparent order to Nature and second a sense or belief that there was some unseen Life Force behind this creation. Across the centuries, cultures around the world have given different names to this Unseen Presence; in the West we call it God. Belief in God, no matter what religion or spiritual tradition has had a profound impact on societies, effecting how they perceive Reality.
Bibliography
3 Finkelstein, Israel. Silberman, Neil Asher. The Bible Unearthed: Archaeology's New Vision of Ancient Israel and the Origin of Its Sacred Texts. Free Press 2002
4 Matt 11:30
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
At The Close Of The Day
On April 1st, my mother celebrated her 93rd birthday. She was born in 1918 during World War 1, lived through the Great Depression, and was a nurse in London during World War 2. In the 1950’s she became an avid fan of Elvis Presley, then in the 1960’s The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. Above all she loved watching boxing; her favorite boxer was Floyd Patterson. She lived through the sexual revolution, she watched Man land on the Moon, has traveled through Europe, and the US. Every day she reads her Horoscope; she believes in spirits. White flowers are banned in her house because a gift of white flowers was given a few hours before a telephone call that informed her that her father had died. She was convinced he would have lived if she had not brought those flowers into the house. For as long as I can remember, she loved gambling small sums on horses. On a visit to Santa Anita racetrack in California, she won $150 on a 5 dollar bet. Her secret to success was finding names of horses that relate something in her life; she would bet on a horse called March Surprise because March was when my sister was born. Money never really meant much to her, she seemed to get the greatest joy in giving it away. Every charity that had a photo of some unfortunate, she subscribed to, telling me “You were born with nothing, you will leave this earth with nothing”.
My mother was the second youngest of six children born on a farm in Ireland. All her siblings are now dead, as are all her friends. In of itself that is something of a miracle. She was hospitalized in 1930s for pneumonia and nearly died, and again at 80 when she was thrown across a bus that stopped unexpectedly. She broke her hip losing half the blood in her body. The doctors were mystified by how she managed to survive. When she returned for a check up, they were surprised as her vital signs were strong, even though she has smoked cigarettes since age 18. My mother is something of a medical marvel at the local hospital.
My Dad and Mom were married in 1949, they stayed together 52 years. Dad died at home, sitting on the couch while my Mom was making him a cup of tea on September 10, 2001. It is a date I cannot forget, as the following day was the infamous 911. With Dad’s death, it seemed the world changed and an era ended.
Now ten years later, another era is ending. When I visited my Mother in January, she was moving from our home into an apartment. The stairs in our home were becoming too much for her. She also was entering the early phases of Dementia. I spent a week with her, and in that time she ghosted in and out of reality. She heard voices of people apparently next door talking about her, then would tell me that “she needed to go to the market to get something for your Dad’s dinner, he will be home soon”. Gently I told her “Mom, he died ten years ago”, she looked at me and said “Then why didn’t anyone tell me”. I had to remind her we both buried him in Ireland, then she asked about her brother, “he’s dead too”, and Molly “she died too”, “she didn’t oh my God they are all dying”” she would say. Mom, I said slowly “Molly, John and Michael all died in 1996”, and she would look at me puzzled “Then who is running the farm at home” she asked. I had to tell her that a neighbor had convinced one of her brothers to take sole title and sign it over to him. We had lost it. “My father would be furious, if he knew that, there would be hell to pay”. “So there is no-one left, I’m the last one” she would say. “Yes Mom you outlived all of them.” This scenario would be repeated over and over with minor variations and voices speaking to her through the walls.
During the day, the daughters and grand daughters of her long dead friends visit. They all love her, love her because she is a character, but also because she is the last link to a now long dead close relative. There is admiration in old age; she has lived in the same neighborhood for over 40 years, and everyone knows her by sight. In their eyes she is living proof that old age doesn’t have to be dreaded, but recently, they too have seen the cracks in her sanity appear. One neighbor found her looking confused and lost, another was told she had just returned from an imaginary holiday in Spain. They now keep an eye on her making sure she gets home safely.
Watching a parent slowly lose their grip on reality is an emotionally devastating experience. They have been the pillar you could always lean on, and now that pillar was crumbling. But it doesn’t have to be all doom and gloom. On the second day of my visit, I decided to call a cab and go for ride around town. First, we got her hair done, then we went to a restaurant to eat. She often forgets to eat, and seeing her clean a plate of vegetables, roast beef, and potatoes not only seemed to make her more alert, but I could see she was enjoying the moment. There we were talking about life, the newspaper gossip, and laughing. She was present in reality enjoying the moment with her son. Whether she would remember it a few hours later did not matter. I was grasping, holding on to the Mother I knew and loved, to moments that we had shared a thousand times before, but now were soon to end. We read our Horoscopes, bought the Racing Form and had a flutter on the horses. We walked around town looking in shop windows, and bought some food at market. I called a cab when she got tired and we went back to her place. Not long after, she lay down and fell asleep. It was then that a great sadness welled up, mixed with gratitude. I had been given an encore performance of the one woman play that was my Mother. I didn’t know how many encore performances I would be allowed. We spent the next five days doing the simple things we had always done: buying bread at the bakery, reading the newspaper, betting on horses, living in the moment, knowing that each was a gift and that anytime soon these simple pleasures would pass.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
What it means to be a father
In the early years, Dad is more a play friend, he builds Legos, throws balls, answers questions, he is there, but unlike a Mother, his role to a young child is a bit obscure. As the child grows he learns that Dad does things he makes money, takes care of things, and slowly boys realize they want to be like the big guy. In my oldest son I see reflections of myself, he is outgoing, willing to take risks, can be aloof, has a short fuse with little things that annoy, he has charm, girls like him, he also has size 11 and half shoes which can be a joy or a terror depending on who the love of his life is. I have realized for years that my respect, my caring for him is the most important thing in his life. When problems with the world arise, it is to Dad he goes for advice. This reflection on fatherhood created a dilemma for a friend and her 3 boys. One was mine the other two were someone elses. He was their father and that special father son, me and mini me relationship created a problem. One of the things I have noted over the years and one of the reasons my son respects me is that his friends thinks his Dad is cool, he knows about things, eclectic music groups like Joy Division, the forerunner of Nivana and many other alternative rock groups, he not only knows them he has their original 7 inch singles, he reads comic books, likes action movies, plays soccer and he used to surf. This Dad travels a lot, he dresses casually, he comes from a different country, he is a little odd, and he finds it easy to talk and have conversations with them, he is easy going, knows what going on but doesn't let on. In other words he is the Dad they wished they had. With my girls a similar liking happens in their friends, it is tied around my accent, and how unlike I am other Dads, a sort of silliness and aloofness that appeals to their friends, but makes them like me, and tell my girls he is neat, cool whatever. I know because my girls tell me.
With my friend's boys I saw myself slipping into this situation, one lined with problems. One of the main roles of Dad is to explain to their son's the world, why were swords so big in the old days, why they worn chain mail, why this war started. This Dad also has the benefit of knowing what happens in the world in a very real way, why did the financial markets collapse, why did Congress give all that money to those bankers, why do we want to go to war with Iran. Some of these will produce real conflict with the views and attitudes their real Dad. I have a respect for Alternative Medicine, but as a trained scientist I also have immense respect for Modern Medicine, I believe in vaccination, medicines to help cure diseases, alternative medicine for me is a frame of mind, a reference to where drugs came from, before they were tested for 7-10 years. Nature is wonderful but flawed. Bedouins ate camel dung for stomach upsets, it works, but Pepto Bismol works well too and has a better after taste. The crisis for me was if I continued down this path with my friend's boys, their real father would lose his sons. I love their mother very much and always will, I have told that to them many times, and they want to be loved too. So the choice was to keep going and become their Dad or step back be a bore, be a guy no-one special who comes to see their Mom. If I were to lose my son to another man, it would be very hurtful, it would create deep resentment, friction. A son represents a man's dreams to try live their life in a more fulfilling or richer way, to not make the same mistakes, I couldn't deny that to the father of my friend's boys, even though I knew what she wanted was for me to be their father. I'm sorry it was not meant to hurt but a matter of respect and boundaries..
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Critique of the Compulsive Need To Regulate
The framers of the Constitution understood this, the Bill of Rights was designed as a way to regulate the power of the Federal government, the wording tells the Government what it cannot do. So why should not the citizens of the US be protected from the awesome power of corporate greed and vested interests. Why should their not be regulation?
Max views the burden of regulation as a form of tax, his argument reminds me of my son asking why he had to do homework at school. Just like homework, regulations are a form of discipline, you do homework, like you observe regulations, because they are part of good work practise. A good company is not one that just makes money, after all drug dealers make money, so do sex traffickers, so do people winning the lottery. A good company is one that improves the community and society in general. When a company moves to a location it gains certain benefits, there are roads, places to park, their employees have schools they can send their children to for free, there are parks to relax in and much more, all made available to the company. They are in a sense a guest, and as a guest they have to respect the wishes of their hosts. I lived in Cross River, New York, there was a regulation that business signs could be no more than 12 inches high and of a certain type. The town council in discussion with the community agreed on the low stated appeal of the signs, it went with the general feel of the town. I approved too, I also approved of the regulation on not building near the watershed, the Croton Falls Reservoir fed New York City, because of those regulations New York does not have to treat its water.
When I examine the arguments put forward by Max, they come down to the only thing that matters is making money. We all saw in 2008 where that argument leads.