Keep An Open Mind!

I’m playing channel roulette, watching two shows and trying to see which one is more annoying. One, of course, is ABC’s Primetime: Nightline show on psychics; the other is National Geographic’s documentary on “pint-sized preachers”. Between the two of them, I am reminded often of how important it is to keep an open mind. Important, that is, if snake-oil peddlers are going to make a living. So I thought I’d repost this very old piece from the old blog…
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I wonder sometimes, why it is that the people who tell me to “keep an open mind” have theirs utterly closed to the possibility that they might be wrong. An open mind, of course, is willing to follow the available evidence, even if it disagrees with one’s assumptions. An open mind is not one that keeps an issue open after every bit of information says “case closed.” But of course, as I have heard it most frequently, “keep an open mind” is used as a synonym for “agree with me!”

An open window can be a good thing, but a window which cannot be closed is just a hole in your wall. There are times when it is ok to shut the window. You can always open it up again if the evidence says you should.

Anyway, today’s verse:

They told me “keep an open mind,
And you will see—the world’s designed,
And everything that’s in it.
The folks who say mutation’s random?
Open-minded folks can’t stand ‘em
Even for a minute!
You see the touch of God each day
In every strand of DNA
Unless your mind is closed;
When looking at genetic blueprints
Clearly, there are You-Know-Who-prints
For those so predisposed.”

I told them “really, no offense…
I’ll need to see some evidence.”

They told me “keep an open mind,
And never heed the double blind
Experiments of science;
The open-minded person knows
You cannot trust what science shows—
The truth is in defiance!
It’s science that is always changing;
Scientists keep rearranging—
How could it be true?
So put your trust in common thought,
Which needs no facts at all—well, not
In my considered view.”

I told them “that’s a lame pretense…
I’m waiting for your evidence.”

They told me “keep an open mind
While we stick pins in your behind
To fix your aching head;
We’ve got to re-align your back—
Don’t be alarmed to hear a crack
Or have some herbs instead!
Now take a draught of this solution,
Infinite in its dilution,
(That’s what makes it strong!)
So many cures that fit your Karma,
Hard to see just how Big Pharma
Always gets it wrong.”

I told them “you may not commence
Until you show me evidence!”

They told me “keep an open mind—
Our brainwaves, if they’re all combined,
Can lead to lasting peace;
And simply wishing hard enough
Brings health and love and other stuff,
They’ve known since Ancient Greece!
The figure of the Oracle
Was not just allegorical—
It works! Just take a look!
The truth is, if you wish and pray,
It might just happen, come some day—
And Oprah likes the book!”

I told them “here are my two cents—
Please wish and pray for evidence.”

They told me “keep an open mind;
Though in this lifetime you’re confined
Within your mortal part,
In death you find a pure release
And living on in love and peace,
The you inside your heart,
You’ll leave behind this thin façade
To gaze upon the face of God
If, meekly, you submit;
Each death, each illness is God’s will
You can’t reach Heaven’s gate until
The mortal world you quit.”

I told them “such a moral sense!
If only you had evidence!”

She told me “keep an open mind,
And while our bodies are entwined
Our energies commingle.
Don’t roll your eyes, I do implore;
I speak, of course, in metaphor–
And by the way, I’m single.”
From one to ten? She’s my eleven;
Better than some made-up heaven,
Wondrously mundane!
And best of all, I think you’ll find,
Much better than an “open mind”
She keeps a working brain.

Headline News, Mabus Edition

As folks ‘round the world can attest
Some time out for Mabus was best
So they pulled out all stops,
Spammed the Montreal cops—
Now, at last, he is under arrest.

Headline: Montreal police make arrest in “Mabus” case on online death threats

If he is mentally ill, I hope he gets the help he needs. If he is not, he has done a damned fine imitation, and as happens when you play with fire, will get burned.

I’ve seen a few people here and there argue that we should not assume he is mentally ill. And of course, internet psychiatric diagnostics are best left to nobody. But his language has crossed lines–not dim and fuzzy lines, but bright and clear lines.

This will be an interesting case to follow.

Headline Muse, 8/17

Though it’s rare, still they try to prepare ya
Cos it’s real and not simply hysteria
This amoeba—this strain—
Likes to munch on your brain
So it’s best to beware of Naegleria!

Headline: Brain-eating amoebas blamed in three deaths

Three deaths so far this year—in Louisiana, Florida, and Virginia—are blamed on a freshwater amoeba. Given the hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of swimmers trying to beat this summer’s deadly heat, this headline isn’t at all sensationalistic. No sir. Not this one. Conservatively, a tenth of the number dead from bee stings (probably less, but bee sting deaths are a hazy statistic, being rare enough we don’t tend to worry about them), brain-eating amoeba have a better public relations agent.

Defending DOMA (For Fame And Fortune)

This is from the old blog, but thanks to the political cycle, it’s absolutely current.

In the constant chase for headlines
Given fast-approaching deadlines
Politicians fight each other for the top spot on the news
In this rough-and-tumble scrimmage
As they fight to hone their image
Some conservatives may think they’ve found an issue they can use

It’s that goddamn gay agenda
The republicans expend a
Lot of energy in fighting, as they pander to their base
If a legal stance looks funny
Often, following the money
Shows the underlying logic (as, of course, the present case)

In this mess, if you’re litigious
Then you’re probably religious
And it’s blasphemous that marriage should be offered up to gays
And republicans get boners
Over big financial donors
(If the dollars were sufficient, why, I’m sure they’d swing both ways)

It’s a match that’s made in heaven
For Two Thousand and Eleven
As the campaign is upon us and we’re choosing sides, of course
Let the Democrats disparage
Us, we’re standing up for marriage!
It’s a sacred institution… like Republican divorce!

NPR’s Morning Edition reports on the political posturing surrounding the Obama administration’s decision not to defend the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA). Conservative Republicans are on the wrong side of history here, but it looks like they are hoping they are on the right side of their own base. I’ve argued over marriage issues for years, and have never yet found an objection to same-sex marriage that did not boil down to a religious view. From my perspective, then, it comes down to a First Amendment issue: if the government takes a stand opposing same-sex marriage, it favors one religious view over others.

It’s not a matter of what is good for the children. My lesbian neighbors have raised a fine son, despite not being recognized as a real family; real concern for the well-being of children would lead to support for gay families. It’s not that marriage is designed to promote procreation; my sister-in-law is hoping for her third childless marriage. Since she is heterosexual, no one has a problem with that–least of all, the Republican front-runners, who [as of the writing of this verse] sport more ex-wives than candidates.

It’s not even freedom of religion. There are a good many churches that recognize, welcome, and celebrate same-sex marriages. These conservative Republicans would want these churches overruled.

No, it’s money. There is money to be had by fighting on the wrong side of this battle. If that money can keep a handful of politicians in the headlines for a bit longer, they can keep the positions of power they hold. When they eventually are swept aside, that same money will be available for speeches and appearances. Ex-senators and ex-representatives will make more for one speech than I do in a year, railing against the moral decline of civilization.

Meh. I’ll take that, if I can go to my neighbors’ wedding.

2-3 AM (TMI)

The alarm clock is unwelcome, with its loud, insistent tone
I’d throw it out the window, but it’s otherwise my phone
The household’s sleeping soundly; I’m awake and I’m alone
At 2 AM
The world is strangely silent, with the birdsong not begun
The waning moon is setting and it’s hours before the sun
There’s lots of work ahead of me; I’d better get it done
At 2 AM
I turn to the computer, cos I’m kind of in a bind
I’m desperate for distraction at the moment, and I find
That composing this is slowly, surely, waking up my mind
At 2 fifteen
There’s a vile-tasting liquid, and I’ve got to drink a glass
Cos they’re going to take a mini-cam and run it up my ass
As I taste the horrid sweetness, I’m assured “this too shall pass”
At 2 fifteen
Now I’ve tossed aside the blanket and I’ve dimmered on one light
And my body senses laxative and knows it isn’t right
And the lemonade-detergent won’t go down without a fight
At half past two
One glass down, and then another, now to work on number three
I can think of many places, many times, I’d rather be
But it’s part of turning fifty, so I’m lucky, can’t you see?
At half past two
I have lived for fifty years now, on this planet I adore
If I’m careful and I’m lucky, I could live for fifty more
It’s a simple motivation, as I contemplate glass four
At half past two
It’s the final glass of medicine, and then it’s to the sink
Cos there’s still a lot of water that they’re gonna make me drink
But it’s quiet, oh so quiet, so it gives me time to think
At 2:45
But thinking keeps me busy, till the nasty part is through
I guess that’s why I wrote it, and why I’ll share with you
But I think it’s time to post this, cos there’s stuff I gotta do
At 2:45

(Written from 2:15 through 3:10 AM. So, not exactly accurate, but close enough.)

The Brain Observatory

edit–they are at it again!

As I write (so if you hurry, you can see it), the Brain Observatory is sectioning a brain. Last time I watched them, it was when they were sectioning HM’s Brain. This time, it’s a dolphin brain.

Aaaand, it looks like they are closing up for the evening, or getting ready to. Their schedule:

The dolphin brain is pretty cool–far more gyri and sulci than I would have imagined!

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Below is the verse I wrote for HM, on the occasion of his brain sectioning. It has the distinction of being the only one of however many hundreds of poems or verses I have written, to be unrhymed. I’ve said before, it’s not what I usually do.

For H. M.

My day goes by in bits and pieces,
The crossword puzzle, conversations,
Doctors asking, running tests;
They seem to know me; I don’t know how.
And who is that old man in the mirror?

My day goes by as days do, I suppose,
I watch TV, play bingo, read…
Today the crossword is very easy!
I don’t remember when I moved here—
And who is that old man in the mirror?

My day – I don’t recall yesterday—
A pleasant day, with pleasant friends,
I know my way through this house,
But I do not remember moving here,
And who is that old man in the mirror?

My day goes by in one-act plays
Old plots forgotten with the new,
I never know the actors’ names—
Each one is nice enough, it seems;
But who is that old man in the mirror?

Today, I’m feeling very tired;
I don’t know why—I’m much too young
To stiffly walk, to ache to move—
I must have worked hard yesterday.
I feel like that old man in the mirror.

Henry Molaison, known to biology and psychology students everywhere as “H. M.”, is perhaps the single most famous patient in history. Perhaps. He was studied for over half a century, from when he underwent psychosurgery in 1953 to alleviate epileptic convulsions, until his death last year. Henry had an extreme case of anterograde amnesia–the inability to form new episodic memories. He could learn new tasks, but would not know that he had learned them (his performance surprised himself!). He taught us, or allowed us to learn, more about how remembering works than we had ever suspected before. Abilities we thought as single were exposed as many parallel abilities, and not always the neat splits our introspective accounts may have predicted. (that may not be expressed well. It is late.)

Headline Muse, 8/16

Though for others, it seems a bit odd,
Winning games isn’t big for this squad
If you don’t score a goal
They can still win your soul
Cos they play to bring glory to god

Headline: Christian pro soccer team: ‘Scoring souls, not goals’

Ok, not so much a headline as a CNN blog post, but close enough. I only wanted to write about this team because they are seen as so anomalous, and their anomaly is attributed to their faith. I’m here to tell you, it ain’t necessarily so.

Back in college, I was a member of an intramural team (I’ll give you their name in a bit); depending on the season, we played softball, basketball, volleyball, or ultimate frisbee. We were sort of the B version of a separate team that was far more typical of the intramural league. Our team, not so typical. Other teams loved to play us, for two reasons. First, they got a win. Second, they got a fun game.

Now, you might think we were not very good. You’d be wrong. We played hard, and usually scored more points than the opposing team. But our team operated by a different set of rules. For one, before each and every game… (expected phrase: “we would pray”), we would officially forfeit that game. That’s right, we lost the game before we even played it. For two, our hard and fast rule was “never argue a call”. If the first base umpire missed a call by a mile, so what?

With winning and arguing tossed out, the only thing remaining was to compete, play a great game, and have fun. Given that it is more fun to play well, you’d still see us diving after a spiked volleyball or laying out at full run after a frisbee. I personally ended more games than not, bleeding and injured. But smiling.

The object of any game, unofficially, was to have the most fun we could. But that was unofficial. Officially, the object of every game was “not to spill your beer”. (Easy for me–I did not drink at the time.)

The name of the team? “The Heathens.”

Spare The Rod

We tell you, in the name of God
That when you choose to spare the rod
You spoil the child.
The holy word, from God above,
Is “use a stick to show your love”
So just go wild.
A God who drowned the Earth in flood
Won’t mind if you should draw some blood
It’s fair and just.
So beat your child! Start today!
The bible doesn’t say you may
It says you must!
So if they fight (as children will)
Just beat them with a cane until
They get along
And if a kid should end up dead,
You followed what the bible said
And can’t be wrong.

From CNN, Anderson Cooper reports on parents who follow the book “To train up a child”, which advocates regular and severe punishment–beatings with a rod–for young children (video at link).

In His Own Image

They say that God created Man
As part of an enormous plan,
And did so in His image, cos he loves us, every one.
When men of God discriminate
And treat their fellow men with hate
They do so with the knowledge it’s what Jesus would have done.
When righteous men, in righteous ways
Hate atheists, or Jews, or gays,
Or Muslims, pagans, redheads, southpaws, foreigners, or Voodoo
I know at first it may seem odd,
But clearly, you’ve created God
In your own image, when you find he hates the same folks you do.

“You can safely assume you have created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates the same people you do.” –Annie Lamott