Convict Fenton pedaled, cursing under his breath, and cycled on. He wasn’t upset; it was his pastime on the Bike. Convicts didn’t rate streaming media, so they made due. Some sang, but Fent’s blue litany kept him sane. Kept him from wondering how long he had left.
After his first year in the GenPen – Federal Electro-Generation Penitentiary – he’d hit 10% and realized at that rate, he’d be in for another decade. Pitching the Deal, his lawyer had given him rosy estimates about serving time in kilowatt-hours instead of years. Fent hadn’t known enough science to spot the over-inflated estimates. He hadn’t caught the “up to” caveats built into the Deal, either. Bikes could generate “up to” 100 kwh each day… at full tension and a consistently high rpm. It would help if bike maintenance was a company priority.
But it wasn’t. And counting watts made the time drag on, so he didn’t do it. They’d let him out when he was done.
Fent pedaled and cursed until cool-down kicked in. He dismounted, and stepped through the security door. When the lights showed green, he pushed through to the shower room, and the guy on the other side, coming in to relieve him, was shunted in with the Bike to start pedaling.
Stretched out, showered, and thumbed into his cell, Fent slipped into his VR harness. Time to animate some avatars for the Man. He went through most of the standards in a given night. Orc, pimp, zombie, terrorist; he shot, sliced, or mauled his way through his shift, crawled out of the harness to sleep, and went back to the Bike.
One day, he thought, they’ll let me out. But he thought it less frequently every day.
Convict Fenton pedaled, cursing under his breath, and cycled on.
------------
What did I just read? Explanations and excuses can be found at this link.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Not Up For Debate
I have had a number of people contact me in the last several months asking, "Dude, what happened to you? Why are you attacking Christians? You used to be such a good kid." And then, when I try to answer them, they withdraw, muttering about not having time or needing to preserve our friendship.
It's hard to know for certain what someone is thinking when they don't engage, but the impression that I get is that they want to have a debate with me - just on their terms. I'm happy to do that, of course, as long as they understand what it is that they are asking to debate. The existence of God? Sure! The validity of various claims and assertions by believers and non-believers? Let's do it!
How I should behave on social media and what my personal experiences should mean to me? Not up for debate. Sorry.
You see, I've written a lot about what "happened" to me; this is something I do routinely, and I do it specifically for people who might care enough to ask. If our friendship actually meant anything to them, I would expect them to want to know what I have to say and what I really think badly enough to actually read my blog. But since few of them ever actually stay engaged long enough for me to articulate a response, here are some answers (with links to previous posts and amplifying articles sprinkled in as I felt appropriate):
The remark I hear most often is the recurring question, "Why are you attacking Christians?"
That’s frustrating because on the one hand, I've tried to go out of my way NOT to attack anyone. It's true that I share comics that poke fun at Christian privilege, and occasionally mock some of the more outrageous examples of that very broad category of "people of faith", but many of these targets are things I would have called out back when I was a Christian. These are things that I think, if you are a believer, you should probably be calling out, too.
On the other hand, it seems like one must be provocative in order to get any response or catch anyone's attention, especially on social media. I often feel like if I'm not saying something at least slightly controversial, then I'm going to be ignored; but I want to strike a balance that is more "interesting" than "aggressive". This is why I frequently share ideas that I value from Christian sources, and express ideals that, historically, Christians and non-believers have held in common - most notably, the separation of church and state, which used to be one of the founding principles of the Baptist church. I want to strike up a conversation, but balance out that perceived provocation with an earnest look at the common ground between us.
I also strive to "be myself" when I'm online. Anyone who knows me should already know that I mock and tease and indulge in what I consider to be witty wordplay. Obviously, senses of humor will vary, and sometimes feelings will be hurt. As a rule, when it comes to teasing others, I try to "punch up", and avoid picking on those weaker than me. I would never call out people in real pain or try to yank away something they find comforting in the middle of a crisis. But if I see someone else posting stuff that is out of line, needlessly cruel, or otherwise completely full of shit, I will remark on that.
I try to keep my jabs playful; and yet, I've noticed that the people who seem to take such playful mockery personally are often those who complain the most bitterly about "political correctness" and the "tyranny" of having to watch what they say for the sake of mere feelings. I don't claim to be innocent of being a jerk at times - quite the opposite, as I have mentioned before - but dealing with that and learning how to recognize the worst in myself is also one of my primary motivations when I post things that are not exactly "nice." No matter what angle you're coming from, the balancing act is all about maintaining perspective, and assuming noble intent. (The noblest possible intent, at any rate.)
For example, posting my essay "My Existence Is Not an Attack on You" on Christmas morning (to me, a rare day off when I get to goof off online) provoked an inarticulate reaction of rage from a Facebook friend who repeatedly asserted that it was "in poor taste" to compare religion to sci-fi fandom on Jesus's birthday. Perhaps it is - but if you're going to take offense at such a mild form of criticism, do you really have any right to call that an "attack"? Especially when the premise and title of the offending piece is that simply articulating that I am different from you is NOT an attack on you?
(And why, if that day is so holy, are you reading your Facebook feed on Christmas morning in the first place?)
Then there is the "You used to be such a good kid" approach.
This is doubly frustrating, because they are saying that I'm no longer good without actually saying so. To confront that implicit accusation, I try to use my posts to demonstrate that while I personally reject the various claims of the existence of a God, there is still a lot of overlap between my views and the views of people who would prefer to think that my lack of belief comes with a lack or morality or ethical grounding. Anyone watching my feed should see a healthy number of posts on the subject of being #goodwithoutGod. In many ways, the only thing about me that has changed since I was a kid is that I've stopped accepting the human assertion that there is a supernatural anything out there - at least until there is some reliable evidence. I've found other reasons to behave in a way that I judge to be moral, and I would think if people were really interested in morality, they would want to talk about that - not simply impose their own assumptions on me for their own comfort.
(Oh, and I have been told that I've "grown up" a bit, which I consider to be a vicious slander!)
Frankly, I don't think I was all that great as a kid - mainly because of my personality flaws, but also because religion is designed to exploit our flaws and use them to perpetuate itself. As a kid, perpetuating all of the bad religious ideas associated with the American Christian right is something I did to a degree that frightened even other Christians, at times. In most cases, when you do see me go on the attack, it's not you or your behavior, or even necessarily the group you identify with that I am angry about. It's that younger version of me whom I now recognize to have been a complete dickhead.
People lamenting the loss of what I "used to be" should probably go read "You Wouldn't Believe It", which explains how I went from there to here - and why I'm not likely to accept many of the arguments that you would like to offer to convince me to change back. I left There behind for a reason, and now that I am Here, I see my personal mission as consisting of two things.
First: even though #notallChristians are intentionally driving these trends, we Americans still live in a near-theocracy. I have been trying to gently but firmly point that out since 2001, and depending on the brazen stupidity of the examples I may choose to share or the public figures I may choose to engage (looking at you, @SpeakerBoehner), I may choose to be less gentle about my criticism.
Despite the painfully obvious fact that we have been engaged violently with theocratic groups in other parts of the world for decades while pretending that it's not about religion, there is far too much intrusion of God into our government. I endeavor to illustrate the damage that this does to our country - particularly to our ability to relate to the rest of the world, our ability to improve education (especially science education), and our ability to preserve personal/individual liberty.
For better or worse, because we live in a nation that is mostly Christian, the majority of the stories available for me to point to are going to be focused on Christians, and calling out the ways in which they harm the very things they claim to love the most. That is the most frustrating blind spot to deal with, because the same people who object to me pointing out Christian privilege in America and Christian insertion of religion into schools or law are the frequently the very same people who insist that this is a Christian nation in the first place. They try to claim majority status AND claim to be an oppressed minority. Sadly, they lack the same self-awareness that the "anti-PC" crowd lacks, and while I would prefer to take a Live and Let Live approach, that lack of self-awareness has a dire impact on the rest of us.
So while I neither desire nor intend to convince anyone to embrace my point of view as their own, I do demand that you recognize it as a valid point of view. I'm not here to deconvert anyone, but because I used to share the American Christian point of view, I know for a fact that you don't understand me while I very certainly understand you. If I don't engage you in some kind of dialogue, your lack of understanding will continue to damage the world around you - and that includes me.
I need to engage so that you can't pretend that I don't exist.
I need to engage so that you can't erase my narrative from history.
Second: because it was such a long, lonely, and painful journey to get from "there" to "here", I sincerely hope to help others by sharing my experience. Many of my Christian friends and family are going to see that as a threat. I get that. You're going to see me doing that and equate it with your evangelical mandate; you're going to identify me sharing my story, as a "testimony" designed to convert you to my cause.
I get it, but unlike you, there really isn't any evangelical mandate driving me. No atheist leader compels me to spread the word and win "souls" - instead, I see this more as a way to make you understand what our differences really are (as opposed to the mythology I know Christians share about atheists) and how we can along even if you don't accept my views on the supernatural. (Again, that's the point of "My Existence Is Not an Attack on You".) My personal narrative is that, yes, I used to believe what you believe; and yes, I outgrew it (that's how I see it, anyway) through reason, logic, and self examination. Now I encourage everyone to question me about my conclusions and assumptions - with the understanding that you might not be comfortable with my answers.
There is always the chance, of course, that you could change my mind - and if you don't understand what it would take to do so, then you really don't understand me.
I also understand that regardless of what I may do or say, many of my readers and followers are probably already undergoing their own journey - which may look like the experience shared by me and some of the people I repost regularly.
I need to engage so that I can help those of you who need me.
I need to engage so that others can see that they aren't alone, and that the backlash they fear isn't the end of their world.
So that's why I am here, and why I do what I do on Twitter & Facebook. If you feel like you want more explanation, it's probably on the other end of one of these links in this post.
Just remember, before you write me off as a fanatic loudmouth: sometimes simply speaking up is your duty. You need to ask questions. You may need to remind the dominant majority that they are stepping on other people, and that their privilege does not come without a cost to everyone (including themselves). You need to do this whether you belong to that dominant majority or not.
If you are one of those who feels hurt, one of those who feels picked on, who feels attacked by the relatively mild news articles, cartoons & blogs that I post - don't be afraid to challenge me. I will probably respond with my reasoning. I don't consider that to be fighting - I feel that you deserve an explanation or some kind of justification of why I posted what I posted, if not an agreement or the apology you're looking for.
You might be surprised to learn that I dislike many of the same prominent atheists that you dislike, for many of the same reasons. You may be put off by those I do like, or grow uncomfortable with being asked to deal with things you haven't had to think about before. We all deal with that - unless we live in a remote cabin with no outside contact.
But don't just hide. Hiding is a sign that perhaps your ideas aren't as strong or defensible as you think they are...and leaving those ideas un-examined can be dangerous. That fact is also not up for debate.
Learning that lesson is "What happened to me."
It's hard to know for certain what someone is thinking when they don't engage, but the impression that I get is that they want to have a debate with me - just on their terms. I'm happy to do that, of course, as long as they understand what it is that they are asking to debate. The existence of God? Sure! The validity of various claims and assertions by believers and non-believers? Let's do it!
How I should behave on social media and what my personal experiences should mean to me? Not up for debate. Sorry.
You see, I've written a lot about what "happened" to me; this is something I do routinely, and I do it specifically for people who might care enough to ask. If our friendship actually meant anything to them, I would expect them to want to know what I have to say and what I really think badly enough to actually read my blog. But since few of them ever actually stay engaged long enough for me to articulate a response, here are some answers (with links to previous posts and amplifying articles sprinkled in as I felt appropriate):
The remark I hear most often is the recurring question, "Why are you attacking Christians?"
That’s frustrating because on the one hand, I've tried to go out of my way NOT to attack anyone. It's true that I share comics that poke fun at Christian privilege, and occasionally mock some of the more outrageous examples of that very broad category of "people of faith", but many of these targets are things I would have called out back when I was a Christian. These are things that I think, if you are a believer, you should probably be calling out, too.
On the other hand, it seems like one must be provocative in order to get any response or catch anyone's attention, especially on social media. I often feel like if I'm not saying something at least slightly controversial, then I'm going to be ignored; but I want to strike a balance that is more "interesting" than "aggressive". This is why I frequently share ideas that I value from Christian sources, and express ideals that, historically, Christians and non-believers have held in common - most notably, the separation of church and state, which used to be one of the founding principles of the Baptist church. I want to strike up a conversation, but balance out that perceived provocation with an earnest look at the common ground between us.
I also strive to "be myself" when I'm online. Anyone who knows me should already know that I mock and tease and indulge in what I consider to be witty wordplay. Obviously, senses of humor will vary, and sometimes feelings will be hurt. As a rule, when it comes to teasing others, I try to "punch up", and avoid picking on those weaker than me. I would never call out people in real pain or try to yank away something they find comforting in the middle of a crisis. But if I see someone else posting stuff that is out of line, needlessly cruel, or otherwise completely full of shit, I will remark on that.
I try to keep my jabs playful; and yet, I've noticed that the people who seem to take such playful mockery personally are often those who complain the most bitterly about "political correctness" and the "tyranny" of having to watch what they say for the sake of mere feelings. I don't claim to be innocent of being a jerk at times - quite the opposite, as I have mentioned before - but dealing with that and learning how to recognize the worst in myself is also one of my primary motivations when I post things that are not exactly "nice." No matter what angle you're coming from, the balancing act is all about maintaining perspective, and assuming noble intent. (The noblest possible intent, at any rate.)
For example, posting my essay "My Existence Is Not an Attack on You" on Christmas morning (to me, a rare day off when I get to goof off online) provoked an inarticulate reaction of rage from a Facebook friend who repeatedly asserted that it was "in poor taste" to compare religion to sci-fi fandom on Jesus's birthday. Perhaps it is - but if you're going to take offense at such a mild form of criticism, do you really have any right to call that an "attack"? Especially when the premise and title of the offending piece is that simply articulating that I am different from you is NOT an attack on you?
(And why, if that day is so holy, are you reading your Facebook feed on Christmas morning in the first place?)
This is doubly frustrating, because they are saying that I'm no longer good without actually saying so. To confront that implicit accusation, I try to use my posts to demonstrate that while I personally reject the various claims of the existence of a God, there is still a lot of overlap between my views and the views of people who would prefer to think that my lack of belief comes with a lack or morality or ethical grounding. Anyone watching my feed should see a healthy number of posts on the subject of being #goodwithoutGod. In many ways, the only thing about me that has changed since I was a kid is that I've stopped accepting the human assertion that there is a supernatural anything out there - at least until there is some reliable evidence. I've found other reasons to behave in a way that I judge to be moral, and I would think if people were really interested in morality, they would want to talk about that - not simply impose their own assumptions on me for their own comfort.
(Oh, and I have been told that I've "grown up" a bit, which I consider to be a vicious slander!)
Frankly, I don't think I was all that great as a kid - mainly because of my personality flaws, but also because religion is designed to exploit our flaws and use them to perpetuate itself. As a kid, perpetuating all of the bad religious ideas associated with the American Christian right is something I did to a degree that frightened even other Christians, at times. In most cases, when you do see me go on the attack, it's not you or your behavior, or even necessarily the group you identify with that I am angry about. It's that younger version of me whom I now recognize to have been a complete dickhead.
People lamenting the loss of what I "used to be" should probably go read "You Wouldn't Believe It", which explains how I went from there to here - and why I'm not likely to accept many of the arguments that you would like to offer to convince me to change back. I left There behind for a reason, and now that I am Here, I see my personal mission as consisting of two things.
First: even though #notallChristians are intentionally driving these trends, we Americans still live in a near-theocracy. I have been trying to gently but firmly point that out since 2001, and depending on the brazen stupidity of the examples I may choose to share or the public figures I may choose to engage (looking at you, @SpeakerBoehner), I may choose to be less gentle about my criticism.
Despite the painfully obvious fact that we have been engaged violently with theocratic groups in other parts of the world for decades while pretending that it's not about religion, there is far too much intrusion of God into our government. I endeavor to illustrate the damage that this does to our country - particularly to our ability to relate to the rest of the world, our ability to improve education (especially science education), and our ability to preserve personal/individual liberty.
For better or worse, because we live in a nation that is mostly Christian, the majority of the stories available for me to point to are going to be focused on Christians, and calling out the ways in which they harm the very things they claim to love the most. That is the most frustrating blind spot to deal with, because the same people who object to me pointing out Christian privilege in America and Christian insertion of religion into schools or law are the frequently the very same people who insist that this is a Christian nation in the first place. They try to claim majority status AND claim to be an oppressed minority. Sadly, they lack the same self-awareness that the "anti-PC" crowd lacks, and while I would prefer to take a Live and Let Live approach, that lack of self-awareness has a dire impact on the rest of us.
So while I neither desire nor intend to convince anyone to embrace my point of view as their own, I do demand that you recognize it as a valid point of view. I'm not here to deconvert anyone, but because I used to share the American Christian point of view, I know for a fact that you don't understand me while I very certainly understand you. If I don't engage you in some kind of dialogue, your lack of understanding will continue to damage the world around you - and that includes me.
I need to engage so that you can't pretend that I don't exist.
I need to engage so that you can't erase my narrative from history.
Second: because it was such a long, lonely, and painful journey to get from "there" to "here", I sincerely hope to help others by sharing my experience. Many of my Christian friends and family are going to see that as a threat. I get that. You're going to see me doing that and equate it with your evangelical mandate; you're going to identify me sharing my story, as a "testimony" designed to convert you to my cause.
I get it, but unlike you, there really isn't any evangelical mandate driving me. No atheist leader compels me to spread the word and win "souls" - instead, I see this more as a way to make you understand what our differences really are (as opposed to the mythology I know Christians share about atheists) and how we can along even if you don't accept my views on the supernatural. (Again, that's the point of "My Existence Is Not an Attack on You".) My personal narrative is that, yes, I used to believe what you believe; and yes, I outgrew it (that's how I see it, anyway) through reason, logic, and self examination. Now I encourage everyone to question me about my conclusions and assumptions - with the understanding that you might not be comfortable with my answers.
There is always the chance, of course, that you could change my mind - and if you don't understand what it would take to do so, then you really don't understand me.
I also understand that regardless of what I may do or say, many of my readers and followers are probably already undergoing their own journey - which may look like the experience shared by me and some of the people I repost regularly.
I need to engage so that I can help those of you who need me.
I need to engage so that others can see that they aren't alone, and that the backlash they fear isn't the end of their world.
So that's why I am here, and why I do what I do on Twitter & Facebook. If you feel like you want more explanation, it's probably on the other end of one of these links in this post.
Just remember, before you write me off as a fanatic loudmouth: sometimes simply speaking up is your duty. You need to ask questions. You may need to remind the dominant majority that they are stepping on other people, and that their privilege does not come without a cost to everyone (including themselves). You need to do this whether you belong to that dominant majority or not.
If you are one of those who feels hurt, one of those who feels picked on, who feels attacked by the relatively mild news articles, cartoons & blogs that I post - don't be afraid to challenge me. I will probably respond with my reasoning. I don't consider that to be fighting - I feel that you deserve an explanation or some kind of justification of why I posted what I posted, if not an agreement or the apology you're looking for.
You might be surprised to learn that I dislike many of the same prominent atheists that you dislike, for many of the same reasons. You may be put off by those I do like, or grow uncomfortable with being asked to deal with things you haven't had to think about before. We all deal with that - unless we live in a remote cabin with no outside contact.
But don't just hide. Hiding is a sign that perhaps your ideas aren't as strong or defensible as you think they are...and leaving those ideas un-examined can be dangerous. That fact is also not up for debate.
Learning that lesson is "What happened to me."
Monday, July 28, 2014
Presence of Mind
James walked into the Owl Creek Bridge Research Center at the appointed time. His stomach flip-flopped when the receptionist greeted him. Must be nerves, he thought, smiling shyly.
She gave him his badge, and he walked back to prep, part of him lingering, wishing he had the presence of mind to say something to her.
Never mind, he told himself.
“It’s not too late, James,” the doc told him. “You can back out up to the last moment, no obligations.”
“No, I’m ready,” said James. He didn't understand the science behind what they were doing, but it sounded wonderful. They would “trick” his mind into leaping into their matrix, and he would become the first immortal man. Their immortal man, true, but he had always been meek enough to compromise. It seemed worth the trade.
James lay back on the table. Nothing would be done to his body. A probe that wouldn't even penetrate his skin lowered into position next to his skull.
The smallest glint between the probe and James’s head…and he knew.
He saw everything. It was beautiful; immense and small. Everywhere at once and for all time, beginning leading from ending into beginning for eternity, and He was vast.
It was not just size, infinitely large and infinitely small, but time! And other planes and modes and scales, all infinite in their scope!
He cast out, and out… until he nearly swooned at the lack of limits. He withdrew, zooming inward past the smallest smallness. He became He, and He filled the universe. Then the Universes. Then the Omniverse.
And in His immense Awe, it occurred to Him, you have to Be somewhere.
“Stop,” said James. “Never mind.”
He left them speechless, and went to ask the receptionist to lunch.
------------
What did I just read? Explanations and excuses can be found at this link.
She gave him his badge, and he walked back to prep, part of him lingering, wishing he had the presence of mind to say something to her.
Never mind, he told himself.
“It’s not too late, James,” the doc told him. “You can back out up to the last moment, no obligations.”
“No, I’m ready,” said James. He didn't understand the science behind what they were doing, but it sounded wonderful. They would “trick” his mind into leaping into their matrix, and he would become the first immortal man. Their immortal man, true, but he had always been meek enough to compromise. It seemed worth the trade.
James lay back on the table. Nothing would be done to his body. A probe that wouldn't even penetrate his skin lowered into position next to his skull.
The smallest glint between the probe and James’s head…and he knew.
He saw everything. It was beautiful; immense and small. Everywhere at once and for all time, beginning leading from ending into beginning for eternity, and He was vast.
It was not just size, infinitely large and infinitely small, but time! And other planes and modes and scales, all infinite in their scope!
He cast out, and out… until he nearly swooned at the lack of limits. He withdrew, zooming inward past the smallest smallness. He became He, and He filled the universe. Then the Universes. Then the Omniverse.
And in His immense Awe, it occurred to Him, you have to Be somewhere.
“Stop,” said James. “Never mind.”
He left them speechless, and went to ask the receptionist to lunch.
------------
What did I just read? Explanations and excuses can be found at this link.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Flash Back
Updated: all posts below are now LIVE!
As I explained in my last post, Of Guts and Ethics, I recently re-subscribed to the Escape Artists podcasts (links below) after about a 5-year hiatus. That hiatus happened because of Life Reasons - suffice to say I was taking time away from more important things in my life which required 5 years of my undivided attention.
As I explained in my last post, Of Guts and Ethics, I recently re-subscribed to the Escape Artists podcasts (links below) after about a 5-year hiatus. That hiatus happened because of Life Reasons - suffice to say I was taking time away from more important things in my life which required 5 years of my undivided attention.
Back when I was a regular visitor, though, I got to participate in one of the most rewarding experiences I've had that I can talk about in public: the Flash Fiction Contest.
For those who don't know, "Flash" fiction refers to very short stories; for the sake of the contest, submissions were limited to 300 words. Entries were posted in groups on the forums, and members voted up their favorites; winners advanced to semi-finals, and the top stories from the Final round won the honor of getting produced for the podcast (links to the 2013 winners are also below).
My 2007 contest entries didn't make it past the Semi-final round (I had one make it out of the first round, at least!), but I was pretty proud of them. I'm sure I've posted them before, but apparently I never posted them on Tad's Happy Funtime, so I'm going to do so now. To make it seem like I'm putting more effort into this than I actually am (and to tease any regular visitors I might have), I've scheduled these to post over the next three weeks. Maybe it will give you something to look forward to on Monday mornings?
The first Monday, 28 July, you can see Presence of Mind, the only one of my three stories to pass the 1st round. (Out now!)
The next week, you'll get sent to Rehab - which, if I had it to do over again, might have stuck with 250 words. Your mileage (and your wattage) may vary.
And I saved my favorite of the three for last: Stage Fright.
If you're in the mood for a story NOW and haven't already read Silver, my only professionally published story (which can still be found on the Dunesteef audio fiction magazine!), that is always an option to tide you over.
Unfortunately, I re-joined the forums just AFTER the 2013 contest, and they don't run these every year because it is a voracious time consumer for the all-volunteer moderator force. But you can bet I'm gathering ideas now, and plan to be ready when the opportunity knocks again!
The Escape Artists' podcasts are:
Escape Pod for science fiction; their most recent contest winners can be heard here.
Podcastle for fantasy, and their winners ran in November.
Pseudopod for horror - Pseudopod wants you to hear its winners, as well.
You can find their forums at http://forum.escapeartists.net/ - if you hope to participate (either as a writer or a voter) in their Flash contests, you best sign up today!
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Of Guts and Ethics
After a long couple of years going without, I started to miss the three Escape Artists podcasts I used to listen to regularly. So, I've been catching up - listening to new stories each week, and working my way backward through their archives.
On my commute this morning I was listening to Episode 414 - a story from September called Knowing, a post-apocalyptic religious adventure that features Templars, an infantile pope, and a foul-mouthed demon. Afterward, I was floored when the host, Alasdair Stuart, had this to say (starting around the 31:40 mark - emphases mine):
"Religion and war, in the end, are both fundamentally about the same thing...Approached right, that can be a tremendously positive force in the world. After all, when you break them down to their component parts, most schools of thought in both those areas come down to 'to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield'. Three of those are admirable, and three of them (the striving, the seeking, and the not yielding) that's the Hero's Journey, right there. That's an ethical ladder that's open to everyone on the planet...
"We like to search, we like to work, and we don't even pretend to know when to give up. The problem is finding, because that's also an ending, and there is nothing more final. You're definitively not the person you set out as, changed by your experiences, and now something infinitely richer and stranger the moment you find; the moment you discover. The moment you stop.
"There are other stories, of course; there always, always are. But discovery always marks the end of that first story, and when that first story is one that means nothing and everything? When it's one that hundreds of thousands of people have waged war against each other for, for countless centuries? That has repercussions.
"...The simple, almost mathematical destruction that the truth causes the moment you see it. The moment where the door slams shut, and all your pretty little lies, and you... know. And all there is is you in the room with what you know. That process is never without destruction, however short term, and never without fear.
"And it's not just religious folks, either. Atheism - TRUE atheism, as I understand it - is nothing but self-awareness - nothing but knowing as you build your ethical framework on your terms. Atheists are some of the gutsiest and frequently most ethical people on the planet as a result. But in the end, that doesn't matter.
"Faith doesn't matter. Lack of faith doesn't matter. Nothing matters other than 'what you do, when you know'. Those moments define and unite us all, regardless of faith, intellectual system, gender, sexuality, body shape, or chosen sport ball team.
"When the storm comes - and the storm always comes, believe me - what will you do?"
This struck me as the most resonant encapsulation of what atheism is, for me.
I don't really know what Alasdair's beliefs are, but it really struck a chord for someone who I don't already recognize as a non-believer to get what I'm about. It's rare enough that I hear anyone besides other atheists say anything remotely complimentary about our morals. Usually comments run more along the lines of what a shame it is that I'm not the Christian I was raised to be, or how atheists just don't want believe because we "want to sin without consequences." (There are always consequences - even if you believe that the sins have been magicked away.)
Of course, I am of the opinion that it does, in fact, matter what you choose to put your faith in. I think that your faith (or lack) shapes you, whether you think a great deal about it or not. And it seems to me that you can't really trust your ethical framework - or any ethical framework - if you haven't built it yourself. That means either taking what someone else gave you, tearing it down, and rebuilding it like an old Volkswagon, or starting with nothing and forging the metal yourself... so when that storm comes, what you do will be a natural extension of everything you've prepared.
I always enjoy Alasdair's post-story essays, but this one really went above and beyond for me. I generally like the stories, but getting a few minutes of intellectual depth at the end? It's just one more thing I love about Escape Artists in general, and Alasdair in particular.
Whatsoever your beliefs may be, if you think you'd enjoy some short audio fiction, look for the free feeds (Escape Pod for science fiction, Podcastle for fantasy, and Pseudopod for horror) and make sure their latest stories are getting to your podcatcher of choice.
Who knows? Maybe you'll end up deciding to subscribe with real money! Which is what I'm about to go do, because they give me way more than I can afford to give to them!
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Tad's Happy Table of Malcontent
A few months ago, I posted a little joke about what a horrid sinner I am, and I got some hefty (for me) web traffic when The Slacktivist linked to it. That prompted me to organize things a bit, and create this handy link farm to my semi-auto-biographical re-imaginings of my life.
Growing Up:
The Air Force Years:
Ex Post Servicio:
Growing Up:
- Fall - an earliest of early memories
- Upstairs - a semi-fictionalized account of a boy realizing he needs to grow up
- Fatman's Lament - On what a jerk I was in grade school.
- Call Me Maybe (Not) - On the origins of my discontent with telephony.
- Damaged Ones - Tale 3, "The Thriller" - On what a jerk I was in middle school.
- Damaged Ones - Tale 1, "The Monkee" - In which I begin my high school love life... with the help of Davy Jones.
- Virgin Oil, or The Fat's Out of the Bag - leaving one's shell is not without risks
- The Horrors of the Little Shop - In which I hit my peak, sophomore year of high school.
- In October - also semi-fictional
- Calling America - Further tales of telephonic misadventure.
- 1993: Crash and Burn - In which I reflect on what a jerk I was in college; a prelude to...
The Air Force Years:
- Part One: How did THAT happen? - On being recruited from retail.
- Part Two: Saying Goodbye - On how well "staying out of trouble" works.
- Fishing With Dad - On how we Callin men are hapless victims of ourselves.
- Six Little Words: Basic Training pt. I - On arriving at U.S. Air Force Basic Military Training.
- Three Strikes; AFBMT pt. 2 - In which failure was NOT the option I chose - but it was what I got.
- Deja Vu Again: AFBMT pt. 3 - In which I learn how to overcome #fail.
- Chicken Poop for Your Soul - In which we discover yet another source of #fail.
- The Drunk - It's about a drunk. Don't overthink these things.
- The Jarhead Who Laughed - On making friends - whatever the cost!
- Politically Incorrect (Doesn't Cover It) - Guess what! I was *still* a jerk!
- Always In My Way - a sequel, of sorts (and a tale of confirmation bias)
- The Bachelor Party - On hijinks and the sowing of oats.
- In the Moment - A Wedding Song.
Ex Post Servicio:
- On the Road: Driving Man, part 1 - In which I steer back into civilian life - with mixed results.
- On the Road, Again: Driving Man part II - In which we learn yet more about #fail.
- Kerouac and Ginsberg Grow Up and Get Jobs - In which past and present conspire to distract me from each other.
- Damaged Ones - Tale 2: "Who Saved Whom" - In which I grapple with someone else's spirituality - oh, and find a job.
- The Impact on My Faith - a reflection on a decade after 9/11
- Decant the Midnight Lizard - On the joys of toilet training.
- "I Love You Anyway" - In which my son and I teach each other about love (verb; transitive).
- Why Skeletons Don't Have Kids... - A choral arrangement of the mayhem that is parenting.
- The Snip - a Public Service Announcement - In which I close a door on a part of me - figuratively (though the result is the same).
- Pillow Talk Ping-Pong - On staying in love with my best friend.
- When Does Magic Die? - On what a crappy Tooth
FairyWizard I am. - B.S. of America - On first impressions...
- Roughing It Up - ...and on making better ones (with a different troop).
- The Ghosts of Gettysburg - A ghost story.
- Everyone I Love Is Here - a simple album review
- Whole Hearted, Full Throated - In which I sound forth my heart from a rooftop.
- Why I Am a None - my de-conversion story
- Going to Pet the Rabbits - on the sinister side of comfort
- You Wouldn't Believe It - an attempt to outline my personal evolution
- My Existence Is Not an Attack On You - a curiously controversial olive branch to non-believers
- Evolving Out of Evil - a discussion, captured
- Alone In a Crowd - thoughts on finding a group
- Search for a Church - a tongue-in-cheek travel-log (using Foursquare)
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Always In My Way
I like to think I've outgrown a lot of bad habits. Poor reasoning, sloppy thinking, lazy shortcuts - I work on getting rid of these. But I'm like most of you; I'm not perfect, and humor is my weakness.
You have to be careful with humor. Even if you think you're "just kidding" you have to be careful that you're not hurting someone with it. Witness my earlier piece on my life in Korean school. That story is a prequel to the rest of this. Whether you read it or not, know this: I'm not a racist. I don't actually think poorly of Koreans - or Asians in general - and I don't tell these stories to disparage them. I tell them to teach about the danger of confirmation bias, and to make fun of myself.
So, when you read this and think, "Christ, what an asshole" - that's kind of my point.
It began on the Pacific Coast Highway in 1995. My lovely bride and I were just beginning our whirlwind romance, and we had stopped on a cliff side pull-out where there was a convenience store and a magnificent view of the ocean. We came back out to get in her Saturn and push on southward, but found that we were blocked in by a tour bus full of Asian tourists. There were several dozen of them standing as a group behind our car, with their bus (and the remarkable view) behind them. The driver was trying to take a picture of the group with each of their cameras. He must have had 30 or 40 cameras hanging on his arms, and he was working his way through all of them.
Just when we thought he was done, a few more cameras would be produced, and he would keep going - this happened more than once. We waited. We waited some more. Finally, Kate had a brilliant idea. She handed her own camera to the tour guide, and we stood next to the group and got our own photo out of the deal.
The group seemed confused... but did not take the hint.
Eventually they did disperse to go buy snacks, and we made our escape, laughing at the bemused expressions they gave us as we fled.
That might have been the end of it, but for the fact that I was still attending the Korean language school, and a day didn't pass without someone from Korea colliding with me in the hallway or driving by (usually in a Lexus, usually too close to me or my car). It sometimes seemed like they would aim for me - especially in the broad hallways of the school, where despite having plenty of room for four people to pass each other abreast I would find myself crowded against the wall by one of the teachers. Even when I flunked out of Korean school and started taking Russian, it seemed that everywhere I went, there were Asians in my way!
I commented on this to a few of my friends, and most of them laughed at me ("Christ, what an asshole!") ...but those closest to me noticed it, too. I'd be at the grocery store, and an oblivious Chinese woman would block me at every aisle with her shopping cart. I'd try to exit the freeway, and get cut off by a Korean in a minivan, and forced to take the next exit. It became a running joke - one that I tended to keep to myself, because, after all, I didn't want to seem racist.
But once you start seeing a pattern, you start looking for that pattern, and even my lovely bride started noticing.
Eventually, we left California and ended up in Maryland. One of our favorite things to do was to take our wee bairn out and push her around Washington DC in her stroller. On one particularly beautiful day, we headed for the Smithsonian Natural History Museum to see if the baby girl would enjoy looking at dinosaurs. (She did!)
I remember it being pretty crowded, but there was one family that seemed to dog our steps around every corner. We ran into them several times, and tried to slow down so they'd get ahead of us. They slowed down, too. We pushed through the clot of them, and sped up to get away from them, and they kept pace, pushing us from behind. It was maddening. But we figured we'd lose track of them when the baby needed to be fed & changed, and we set up camp in the family restroom.
When we were done, a good 15 minutes had passed, and I went out to retrieve our stroller - only to walk straight into the lens of our shadow family's video camera.
Because I had heard them speaking Korean (I sucked at it, but I could identify it like a champ), I tried saying "excuse me" - "shi-leh hamnida" - but that didn't work. No one made eye contact (they seemed to think that would be rude) and they just bunched up around the cameraman, and became intensely interested in the woolly mammoth he was filming. I tried to maneuver behind them, to avoid being rude myself by walking in front of the camera - but they were kind of milling around and there always seemed to be an elbow or knee wherever I was trying to slide by - and no amount of "excuse me" in any language seemed to work.
My Korean teachers had impressed upon us the importance that manners have in their culture. Being mostly uncouth youths fresh out of the Midwest, we pestered them to teach us "bad words," and they always demurred, claiming that the worst thing you could say to any Korean would be to address them with the wrong verb construction, indicating that you thought you had a higher status than the person you were speaking to. That hadn't stopped us from looking up words that (we hoped) would express some of the important phrases that we frequently used on each other.
So, I decided to be rude, and finally pushed my way in front of Mr. Cameraman. Naturally, he pressed forward so I found myself mouth-to-microphone with his camera, and I said what the rude, angry American wanted to say right into that microphone: "Jaji mog-ko"... which was my best attempt at "Eat a dick."
Now, as poor as my language skill was (and is) it's possible that this would mean nothing to him or his audience, but I like to imagine that they took that tape home to Korea with them, and invited all of their neighbors and relatives to a big "trip to America" movie night. I like to imagine them all gathered in front of the largest TV Samsung made in 1997, and seating their most ancient, honored grandmother right up front. I fantasize that Mr. Cameraman says, "Honored grandmother, behold the woolly mammoth I filmed for you at the Natural History Museum" ...just as the mammoth on screen rumbles "Eat a dick" in a good ol' U.S. accent.
It is possible that I may have killed an old Korean lady in 1997, and I would never know it.
But it gets better.
Naturally, I don't keep these little stories to myself, and I have told them many times to my best of friends. So when my flamingo had a visit from his German friend, I somehow got drawn into telling them to her. We had a few laughs, and I explained that I don't really harbor any lasting resentment, but that I always seem to find Asians in my way - and to watch out if she visited DC.
As it happened, they did. And when they were reading one of the quotes set into the paving stones of the World War II Memorial, an odd thing happened.
They were standing in a relatively open space, obviously reading something on the ground, and an elderly Asian man walked up to them and stood in front of them, placing his feet on the square they were reading. They looked up at him, and he began shaking some kind of wooden clacking device - CLACK-A-CLACK-A-CLACK-A - as he stared right back at them.
CLACK-A-CLACK-A-CLACK-A
"Excuse us, sir..."
CLACK-A-CLACK-A-CLACK-A
"We were reading that!"
And a crowd gathered - most likely a tour group - pressing the two would-be readers off to the side. Everyone kept staring at them, as if they were the ones in the way, and while no one intentionally shoved them, they were nudged further and further away, until they decided to give up and head for less crowded territory.
Naturally, they thought of me. When our German friend told me about this adventure, I had to laugh. "It looks like I passed my curse on to you!" I told her. "Confirmation bias - it's a terrible, terrible thing!" We all laughed, then, and thought nothing more about it... until she landed in Munich on her return trip home, and they started showing up everywhere. Blocking her way off the train, nudging her away from the baggage claim...
Of course, now that I've told you all of this, you're bound to start noticing it, too. There are 1 billion people in China alone, which means you've got a better than 1-in-7 chance that anyone you meet on this planet would fit the definition of "Asian," and now every time you see one of them, you're going to register the experience in the back of your head. Even though you're probably cut off in traffic a hundred times a day, you'll only notice the Asians. Even though you're more likely to get bumped in the grocery store by old white people, you'll notice the Asians.
Just remember that it isn't their fault - it's my fault, and my curse. And even though I know it's my brain following it's own confirmation bias, I will continue to find #AsiansInMyWay. And to them I can only (and will only) say, "Excuse me."
실례합니다.
对不起
ちょっと失礼します。
ขอโทษ
Xin lôi.
You have to be careful with humor. Even if you think you're "just kidding" you have to be careful that you're not hurting someone with it. Witness my earlier piece on my life in Korean school. That story is a prequel to the rest of this. Whether you read it or not, know this: I'm not a racist. I don't actually think poorly of Koreans - or Asians in general - and I don't tell these stories to disparage them. I tell them to teach about the danger of confirmation bias, and to make fun of myself.
So, when you read this and think, "Christ, what an asshole" - that's kind of my point.
It began on the Pacific Coast Highway in 1995. My lovely bride and I were just beginning our whirlwind romance, and we had stopped on a cliff side pull-out where there was a convenience store and a magnificent view of the ocean. We came back out to get in her Saturn and push on southward, but found that we were blocked in by a tour bus full of Asian tourists. There were several dozen of them standing as a group behind our car, with their bus (and the remarkable view) behind them. The driver was trying to take a picture of the group with each of their cameras. He must have had 30 or 40 cameras hanging on his arms, and he was working his way through all of them.
Just when we thought he was done, a few more cameras would be produced, and he would keep going - this happened more than once. We waited. We waited some more. Finally, Kate had a brilliant idea. She handed her own camera to the tour guide, and we stood next to the group and got our own photo out of the deal.
The group seemed confused... but did not take the hint.
Eventually they did disperse to go buy snacks, and we made our escape, laughing at the bemused expressions they gave us as we fled.
That might have been the end of it, but for the fact that I was still attending the Korean language school, and a day didn't pass without someone from Korea colliding with me in the hallway or driving by (usually in a Lexus, usually too close to me or my car). It sometimes seemed like they would aim for me - especially in the broad hallways of the school, where despite having plenty of room for four people to pass each other abreast I would find myself crowded against the wall by one of the teachers. Even when I flunked out of Korean school and started taking Russian, it seemed that everywhere I went, there were Asians in my way!
I commented on this to a few of my friends, and most of them laughed at me ("Christ, what an asshole!") ...but those closest to me noticed it, too. I'd be at the grocery store, and an oblivious Chinese woman would block me at every aisle with her shopping cart. I'd try to exit the freeway, and get cut off by a Korean in a minivan, and forced to take the next exit. It became a running joke - one that I tended to keep to myself, because, after all, I didn't want to seem racist.
But once you start seeing a pattern, you start looking for that pattern, and even my lovely bride started noticing.
Eventually, we left California and ended up in Maryland. One of our favorite things to do was to take our wee bairn out and push her around Washington DC in her stroller. On one particularly beautiful day, we headed for the Smithsonian Natural History Museum to see if the baby girl would enjoy looking at dinosaurs. (She did!)
I remember it being pretty crowded, but there was one family that seemed to dog our steps around every corner. We ran into them several times, and tried to slow down so they'd get ahead of us. They slowed down, too. We pushed through the clot of them, and sped up to get away from them, and they kept pace, pushing us from behind. It was maddening. But we figured we'd lose track of them when the baby needed to be fed & changed, and we set up camp in the family restroom.
When we were done, a good 15 minutes had passed, and I went out to retrieve our stroller - only to walk straight into the lens of our shadow family's video camera.
Because I had heard them speaking Korean (I sucked at it, but I could identify it like a champ), I tried saying "excuse me" - "shi-leh hamnida" - but that didn't work. No one made eye contact (they seemed to think that would be rude) and they just bunched up around the cameraman, and became intensely interested in the woolly mammoth he was filming. I tried to maneuver behind them, to avoid being rude myself by walking in front of the camera - but they were kind of milling around and there always seemed to be an elbow or knee wherever I was trying to slide by - and no amount of "excuse me" in any language seemed to work.
My Korean teachers had impressed upon us the importance that manners have in their culture. Being mostly uncouth youths fresh out of the Midwest, we pestered them to teach us "bad words," and they always demurred, claiming that the worst thing you could say to any Korean would be to address them with the wrong verb construction, indicating that you thought you had a higher status than the person you were speaking to. That hadn't stopped us from looking up words that (we hoped) would express some of the important phrases that we frequently used on each other.
So, I decided to be rude, and finally pushed my way in front of Mr. Cameraman. Naturally, he pressed forward so I found myself mouth-to-microphone with his camera, and I said what the rude, angry American wanted to say right into that microphone: "Jaji mog-ko"... which was my best attempt at "Eat a dick."
Now, as poor as my language skill was (and is) it's possible that this would mean nothing to him or his audience, but I like to imagine that they took that tape home to Korea with them, and invited all of their neighbors and relatives to a big "trip to America" movie night. I like to imagine them all gathered in front of the largest TV Samsung made in 1997, and seating their most ancient, honored grandmother right up front. I fantasize that Mr. Cameraman says, "Honored grandmother, behold the woolly mammoth I filmed for you at the Natural History Museum" ...just as the mammoth on screen rumbles "Eat a dick" in a good ol' U.S. accent.
It is possible that I may have killed an old Korean lady in 1997, and I would never know it.
But it gets better.
Naturally, I don't keep these little stories to myself, and I have told them many times to my best of friends. So when my flamingo had a visit from his German friend, I somehow got drawn into telling them to her. We had a few laughs, and I explained that I don't really harbor any lasting resentment, but that I always seem to find Asians in my way - and to watch out if she visited DC.
As it happened, they did. And when they were reading one of the quotes set into the paving stones of the World War II Memorial, an odd thing happened.
They were standing in a relatively open space, obviously reading something on the ground, and an elderly Asian man walked up to them and stood in front of them, placing his feet on the square they were reading. They looked up at him, and he began shaking some kind of wooden clacking device - CLACK-A-CLACK-A-CLACK-A - as he stared right back at them.
CLACK-A-CLACK-A-CLACK-A
"Excuse us, sir..."
CLACK-A-CLACK-A-CLACK-A
"We were reading that!"
And a crowd gathered - most likely a tour group - pressing the two would-be readers off to the side. Everyone kept staring at them, as if they were the ones in the way, and while no one intentionally shoved them, they were nudged further and further away, until they decided to give up and head for less crowded territory.
Naturally, they thought of me. When our German friend told me about this adventure, I had to laugh. "It looks like I passed my curse on to you!" I told her. "Confirmation bias - it's a terrible, terrible thing!" We all laughed, then, and thought nothing more about it... until she landed in Munich on her return trip home, and they started showing up everywhere. Blocking her way off the train, nudging her away from the baggage claim...
Of course, now that I've told you all of this, you're bound to start noticing it, too. There are 1 billion people in China alone, which means you've got a better than 1-in-7 chance that anyone you meet on this planet would fit the definition of "Asian," and now every time you see one of them, you're going to register the experience in the back of your head. Even though you're probably cut off in traffic a hundred times a day, you'll only notice the Asians. Even though you're more likely to get bumped in the grocery store by old white people, you'll notice the Asians.
Just remember that it isn't their fault - it's my fault, and my curse. And even though I know it's my brain following it's own confirmation bias, I will continue to find #AsiansInMyWay. And to them I can only (and will only) say, "Excuse me."
실례합니다.
对不起
ちょっと失礼します。
ขอโทษ
Xin lôi.
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