I don’t have time now to write, so I have tweaked an old verse just a little, so as to have something appropriate for (US) election day. I suppose it also would have been a fairly fitting verse to add to the Rally To Support [something], so if you happen to know Jon Stewart, you can point him to it.

When the original was posted, it came with a series of videos, of some of the worst of the pre-election rallies last cycle. Now, of course, the Tea Party has its own network, so I don’t even have to link videos–you already know what sorts of thing are being referred to.

Of course there are Christians, of course there are Muslims,
And Atheists, Pagans, and Jews
Supporting the left or supporting the right—
Supporting a spectrum of views—
Of course there are numbskulls, and ignorant pinheads
Whose views are incredibly dense,
And of course they reside on both sides, red and blue
Of the nation’s political fence
It gets to the point where we almost expect it—
Perhaps it’s what humans just do—
We forget these are merely the vocal extremists
Whose numbers, in truth, are quite few.
These salient images seen in the media
Show us ourselves at our worst
But just look around, and you’ll see something different,
And not what it looked like at first:
The people who back both the left and the right
Are people like you and like me
And most are intelligent, thoughtful and kind,
And like us, they don’t like what they see.
This silent majority, not in the news,
When confronted with ignorant hate
May decide to combat it, or maybe ignore it,
Or challenge them to a debate
And sometimes you’ll find that these ignorant cowards
Back down when you call out their bluff
So… if you’re like me, and you’re sick of the lying,
Decide that enough is enough!
And remember, the ignorant liars can shout
Until all of their faces are blue;
When you get in that booth, and you pull shut the curtain…
The one with the power is you.

Anyway, go vote! And if you seriously are considering “sending a message” by boycotting the vote, read the comments here first.

…over at Byte Size Biology.

Yes, I’m in it, but you’ve already read that one–you should be visiting it to read all the other wonderful posts. Besides which, the commentary is great fun! It never fails to awe and humble me, to get the merest glimpse of the enormous landscape of evolutionary biology. Seriously, I thought my own contribution to this one took a bit of a wide view, but it is positively blinkered compared with the scope of articles collected at BSB.

So, go! Read! Enjoy!

The leaves are red and yellow, and
A chill is in the air
It’s frosty in the mornings, so
You have to dress with care
The last days of October mean
That creepy things are out—
Cos scaring folks is what this season’s really all about.

With fearsome, greedy pirates, and
With nasty, ghastly ghouls;
They’re canvassing the neighborhoods
And threatening our schools
They’re after sweets and money—
Just as much as they can tote—
Only one chance to defend yourself—so please be sure to vote!

The most fearsome of the little trick-or-treat monsters that accosted us this evening (Cuttleville had trick-or-treat tonight, because local towns share police, and thus need to split trick-or-treat nights over 2 or 3 nights) was maybe three feet tall, and had difficulty seeing through his mask. Much, much more frightening are the political ads, and perhaps more frightening than that are the polls. Sadly, I’ve been polled a couple of times, and I have heard for myself the sort of leading questions that are asked in order to push for a favorable outcome.

One of the “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” panelists has a book, “Don’t vote–it just encourages the bastards”; I’d suggest that anyone who really doesn’t want to vote… goddammit, vote anyway! No one can tell if you are not voting out of protest or out of apathy; not voting as a protest is about as sane as not eating or not breathing as a way to make a point–more harm than good. If you want to send a “none of the above” message… write in “none of the above”, don’t stay home. Or better, write in Digital Cuttlefish. I can let them know what you meant.

A story from Russia that might bear repeating;
The bears there are starving—no food to be eating—
Since bears are resourceful, seems every so often
They’ll head to a graveyard and dig up a coffin!
You’ll visit the grave of some newly deceased,
Just to find that some hungry, enormous old beast
Has decided your uncle would make quite a feast!

It’s a serious matter—with no roast to carve,
And no berries to eat, why, the bears may all starve!
It’s a sad thing, as well, for the friends of the corpse,
But around Halloween, see, my funny-bone warps
And I can’t blame the bears for the way they behave
Nor the family or friends as they rant and they rave
Cos for bears and for humans, the scene is quite grave!

More mourners, it seems, may be caught unawares
Cos a trick to find food will spread fast among bears—
How the hole should be dug, and the top should be pried,
Exposing the soft, chewy morsel inside—
As for me, should I die while the bears are unfed,
(and assuming I really and truly am dead)
Since I’m through with my body for good—go ahead!

I’m Christian, and I’m born again,
By which I mean, I’m not.
My faith is not the simple faith
A True Believer’s got,
But something more ephemeral
Which cannot be defined;
I’d tell you all about it, but
I’m rather disinclined.

But yes, I am a Christian–though
I mostly don’t believe;
To treat me as a strawman, why,
It’s really quite naive.
I’ve simply re-defined the words
As what they mean to me;
I’ve decked my church in camouflage,
It’s your fault you can’t see!

Inspired by a bit of conversation, starting more or less here, in which a real-life example of Humpty Dumpty expects readers to understand that by “Christian”, he means atheist, and by “God”, he means “the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom”. Really, how could people be so dense as not to understand when he uses those terms?

`When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, `it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.’

`The question is,’ said Alice, `whether you can make words mean so many different things.’

The names are all real, but the stories are fiction;
Some details are changed to protect a world-view.
The point is, it would have been bad, had it happened,
And that’s just as horrid as if it were true.

We’ve focused our sights on particular problems,
But some—just as awful—are going unheard;
The horrible deaths of these Christians should shock us—
Regardless of whether they really occurred.

Won’t somebody think of the fictional children
Whose fictional lives are in fictional danger?
The fictional cases Mike Adams has shown us?
They could be your kids (or some fictional stranger)!

So, thank you, Mike Adams, for showing such courage
By making up stories that never were true!
Teen suicide’s now in its proper perspective—
Right up there with fiction… according to you.

Details here; cuttlecap tip to P-Zed, of course.

Long, long ago, when gods were gods
The things they did defied the odds;
They vanquished armies, stopped the sun,
Delivered plagues and thought it fun.
And those who saw were not deceived–
There was not doubt, so they believed!

But now, it seems, we’ve been misled;
If those gods lived, by now they’re dead.
We find god now (don’t ask me why)
By looking in a piece of pi.

Just a quick comment on the “evidence for god” kerfuffle (to go along with the mile-high Jesus of last week). It seems we no longer look for a God Of The Gaps. The current deity du jour is The Incredible Shrinking God, who once performed miracles and now hides in equations.

One wonders if it is the same god at all.

I am accident on accident
And chance on random chance
I’m the product of environment
And changing circumstance

The odds of my occurrence
Are incalculably small—
If you round off to the m b trillionth place
I don’t exist at all!

Every atom in my body
From an ancient star’s collapse;
I’m a long time in my making—
Several billion years, perhaps!

In a corner of infinity,
A cold and hostile place
On a tiny blue oasis
Set adrift in empty space

I’m a subset of the universe
That’s learned to look around—
And which cannot help but wonder
At the marvels I have found!

The descendent of bacteria,
Of annelids, of fish,
I’m a member of the primates,
Just an ape-man, if you wish

Through the engine of selection
Some would live and some would die—
“From so simple a beginning”
Just how fortunate am I!

And I pass along my molecules
And take my place in line
So some distant, future life form
Will have carbon that was mine

And perhaps my DNA as well—
Unlikely, though, my friend—
I have ridden quite a lucky streak,
And lucky streaks must end.

So it is, and so it must be
When so much depends on chance
But…
Since the music plays so briefly,
Can you blame me if I dance?

edit–the move from old blog to new has eaten part of this post.

By now, of course, you have seen the “viral video” of Joel Burns. On the off chance you are the last remaining person on the internet who has not seen it, here it is:

I am very glad that he has contributed; I respect him tremendously for this action. I know it has not been easy to walk the path he has walked, and that he is demonstrating bravery much like Councilman Burns. I do not mean to take away one bit of the true goodness I see in Bishop Robinson.

But listen to the two talks. Burns does not, to my recollection, mention god, not once. Robinson mentions god 14 times, repeating that “god loves you beyond your wildest imagining”. Now, there are some very good aspects to Robinson’t talk–for example, noting that not only does it get better, but that it is getting better; that views are changing, prejudices are diminishing, equality is, in his view, inevitable. And his position as a religious authority allows him a different approach than Burns can take.

But.

“God loves you beyond your wildest imagining” is, when compared to the real world that features in Burns’s speech, rather thin gruel. I was regularly beaten up as a kid; I hated it, and yet I know I did not go through a tenth of what either of these speakers did. My wildest imaginings might include going a whole month without getting jumped on the way home. Their wildest imaginings might include going a day, or a week, without a bruise, a cut, or a word that might be worse than either. Bishop Robinson’s god, who loves us beyond our wildest imaginings, is letting kids die, at the hands of others or themselves. Councilman Burns’s adults (whom he addresses, saying they we cannot stand by and let this abuse continue) are much more present than Robinson’s god. They We contribute to the problem today, by our inaction; they we can contribute to its solution by our action.

Gene Robinson is a good man, a very good man. Joel Burns is a good man, and a model for the rest of us (at least in this–I don’t wish to put him on a pedestal no man can live up to). The difference in their speeches is, in my humble opinion, the vapidity of religion.

If someone who “loves you beyond your wildest imaginings” neglects you in your suffering–and worse, contributes to it–it is time to end that relationship. And when you do…

It gets better.

No verse today. You want poetry? Listen to Councilman Burns’s speech again.