This is Chief Mark Kessler. He’s an idiot.

Behold the man posturing and asserting his manliness by firing guns on camera, as if that is a talent or an accomplishment. You will not be able to watch this video without thinking “What an ass…”

He’s the police chief of some tiny little town in Eastern Pennsylvania, a place a fifth the size of Morris, Minnesota. I think he might be overcompensating a little bit with the gun-waving.

But besides being an arrogant idiot, he’s a real danger — this is not the kind of tinpot tyrant you want armed and eager to open fire. But at least it leads to a little amusement.

He went to a bar, got involved in a bar fight, and drew a gun. Already you’re thinking this man has crossed the line and ought to be in jail. But here’s the funny part:

He shot himself in the hand.

Mark Kessler is what you get when you give Barney Fife an M-16. Which is kind of a metaphor for America, if you think about it.

I get email

And sometimes, it really isn’t my fault. Really. I think there’s a FAQ for Kooks somewhere, and it lists my name and email address as a place where you can send random whininess. Like this one that I got out of the blue a couple of weeks ago.

You are a Coward

Paul,

You appear to be just as much of a useless cowardly dimwit as all the other self-identified “skeptics”. I already pointed out that you have no trouble running you mouth about things you clearly know nothing about. And further taking positions that are clearly and obviously wrong.

So I might expect some response unless you would like to admit your cowardice.

Once again I my take on Shakespeare’s Sonnets.

https://sites.google.com/site/eternitypromised/

Perhaps just for fun.

Sincerely,
Alan Tarica

PS
You might find the following an inducement:

Dear Professor Tarica,

Thank you for sending me this copy of your analysis of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, which I have read (quickly once) with pleasure. I am not enough of an expert to pronounce authoritatively on your work, but in my perusal I found nothing to object. …

With best wishes,

Morris Halle

Dear Alan,

It is very kind of you to send me your sonnet commentaries. I have already looked at a few and, indeed found them interesting. I won’t go through all of them at a single sitting. I simple don’t have the time or the patience any longer. But I will dip into them over the next several weeks.

It is a great enterprise. Congratulations.

Jay Keyser

Thanks. I am always pleased to see someone engage with the Sonnets in such detail.

Best,

Mike

Michael Schoenfeldt
John Knott Professor of English Literature

What? I looked at the links to see what I’d done, and the one where I’m supposedly running my mouth? That’s not me. It’s someone named Catmando; we have no connection other than that I’m on their blogroll. They wrote a post dismissing various Shakespeare conspiracies, a subject I don’t believe I’ve ever weighed in on, and apparently Mr Tarica is a frothing-at-the-mouth Edward De Vere fanatic, and I’m the cowardly target of his ire, and I guess I’m supposed to be impressed by the tepid acknowledgments of a group of people I’ve never heard of before.

OK, bye.

But then he kept on sending these accusations of cowardice. He was really quite angry with me. And then…

Real Skeptism

Paul

I realize now (I realized that previously and forgot) that you are not the blogger Catmando and thus not responsible for this stupidity essentially reasoning by the fallacy fallacy.

But I still expect an outspoken person like yourself to express some opinion.

https://sites.google.com/site/eternitypromised/

Alan

Wait. He realized that he’d made a mistake, and yet he still kept dunning me with accusations? And instead of an apology, he’s now telling me that I have to express an opinion on his obsession?

Gah. Screw you, Alan Tarica. I owe you nothing.

And now, this has started again:

You are a coward

[email protected]

You really are a coward aren’t you

OK, Alan Tarica. You win. I’ll express an opinion.

You’re a deep-fried dingaling. A real wackaloon. Your scholarship is a high-falutin’ version of fingerpainting with your own feces. I’d call you silly, except your attitude is so mean-spirited, petty, and blinkered that it isn’t even amusing: you’re a cheap party clown who thinks he’s philosophically deep. Fuck off.

Oh, and do you know who wrote Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets? William Shakespeare.

Christ, plastics?

I just took delivery of a big box of plastic trays for my fish setup — and as a bonus, I discovered that these are god-soaked industrial plastic trays. Along with the packing slip, the company, US Plastics, included a little booklet, volume 1 of Stories of Inspiration, featuring various heads of corporations preachin’ about how wonderful Jesus is.

It includes a bog-standard “I found Jesus” story from the founder of US Plastic, which includes a dialog with God.

“What are you asking me to do, Lord!” I prayed silently. “Stanley, if you agree a soul is the greatest value in the whole world and is the only investment you can make in this life that will pay dividends in eternity…would you be willing to go back to Ohio and become an employee of Mine? …An employee, Lord? Isn’t that what I am now? … We’re partners now, Stanley. I want you to turn your entire business over to Me! …I was stunned. It was beyond anything I had ever considered. I managed to pray, ‘If this is what You want, I will obey.” U.S. Plastic Corp.® then became God’s company and to this day supports missionary work all over the world.

(Yes, God speaks like a boring business drone, doesn’t he?)

If you find that to be irresistible writing, you can find even more of R. Stanley Tam’s writings for sale at US Plastic. I am tempted by the title Stanley Tam’s Incredible Adventures with God, but I am resisting; I suspect they are probably just a little too incredible.

By the way, it’s not just the founder, Tam — the current president, Wesley A. Lytle, also has an entry in Stories of Inspiration.

Damn. Now I’m troubled. US Plastic sells gabillions of useful utility containers and widgets, lots of stuff that’s useful in the science world. I will not support missionary work or religious proselytization, so I’m going to have to go to the trouble of looking for less Jesusy sources in the future.

Mississippi madrasas…with a poll

The reminiscences of right-wing kooks are so very different from mine.

As a young child I remember very vividly reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and also morning prayer. When you talk about the “good old days” those are visions that come to my mind.  Of course those are things that have been taken away but Mississippi has decided otherwise.

I remember vividly how as a young child my school forced me to sit through the droll anecdotes of that old chucklehead, Paul Harvey. The first year I was just stupefied; gradually I came to despise that voice and its smug moralisms. For some reason, the public schools all thought the affected mannerisms of a conservative snake oil salesman were perfectly appropriate to blast at students every goddamned day.

Don’t get me started on the pledge of allegiance. I started out reciting that thing when I was very young, but got progressively annoyed at the very first line, once my vocabulary was good enough to know what the words meant: I’m pledging allegiance to a flag? WTF? I wasn’t even an atheist yet when I decided that was nonsense, and every morning I’d rise, put my hand on my heart (so I’d fit in), and say nothing. Then I stopped with the hand on the heart. Now I only rise because in the usual venues where this is done now, sitting would mean staring at the butt of the person in front of you.

Prayer would have been intolerable. Even before I was aware that I was an atheist, this business of pretending to talk to god made me very uncomfortable.

When I hear people babble about the “good old days” of school it always seems to be these memories of rote and ritual and reinforcement, stuff that is the antithesis of learning. Me? My magic school moments were learning about logarithms (seriously, mind blown), doing geometry with a compass and straightedge, algebra, and trigonometry.

So when some gomer tells me his vision of education was reciting the same words over and over, I’ve got him pegged already: he didn’t learn him nothin’.

Reliably, such people will continue to babble on, confirming my initial impression.

First and foremost though, why was the Pledge of Allegiance axed?  Because of the words “under God.” It’s based on our country and the fact that we are Americans who proudly belong to the United States of America.

When, exactly, was the pledge of allegiance “axed”? The last time I went to a school assembly they had us recite it (I didn’t). I’ve seen it done at sports events. As I said above, when I wasn’t even an atheist I found it objectionable for its tediousness and for the bizarre demand that we swear loyalty to a piece of cloth. Besides, the “under god” bit was tacked on during the Cold War and wasn’t even in the original version.

Having an open mind, I have always thought no matter what side of the fence you are on with the bible, “In God We Trust” is in everyone’s pocket; atheist or not.  Show me an atheist who doesn’t have at least a penny in his or her pocket.

From a penny to a $100 bill, “In God We Trust” is clearly marked on every unit of U.S.Currency.  If it’s good enough for our money, by golly it’s good enough for our schools.

I…what?

Do we atheists have an alternative? If some form of currency valid in the US did not say “In god we trust”, would theists refuse to use it? Would carrying it in any way imply that you were an atheist?

This argument, stupid as it is, is actually rather interesting. Our constitution plainly states that the government may not establish any religion — yet here’s a Mississippi loudmouth declaring that “In god we trust” on money imposes a religious belief on its bearers. Thanks, guy, for declaring it unconstitutional!

So again, if it was deemed so bad for schools, why was it not removed from our currency? My point being, it should have never been removed in the first place, but some atheists want it removed from all currency.  We live in the United States of America and we base many of our principles on the Holy Bible.  If I moved to Japan I wouldn’t be complaining that my God was not being allowed in my child’s school and I sure wouldn’t complain about theirs.

Clearly, it should be removed from our currency, especially when it’s seen as an explicit endorsement of religion by the government. It’s also apparently damaging our educational system, since Mr Redneck here obviously had a substandard education, since he got through it all without comprehending the rudiments of logic and without learning any history. Sorry, bozo, but those religious phrases haven’t been removed, but were actually added in the 1950s; the founding principles of our country were not based on the Bible at all, but on the Enlightenment.

These guys always make me feel like a conservative. They harken back to the days of Joe McCarthy — they can’t see beyond the barrier of the Red Scare — while I fondly think it would be nice if we returned to the principles of Jefferson and Madison (sans the evil excuses for slavery, that is).

Anyway, what’s got the idiots in Mississippi fired up now? Their governor just signed a law requiring public schools to allow students to pray publicly over the morning intercom, and at various school events. You know, I evolved into an atheist gradually, only becoming aware of it in my teen years, but if they’d started my morning with some sanctimonious ass yammering godly nonsense at me every day, BAM, flaming militant atheist in kindergarten.

Of course they have a poll to go with their ignorant noise, and of course, since it’s Mississippi, you can predict exactly how it’s leaning.

Would you have an issue with allowing prayer back in your child’s school?

No 80.37%
Yes 18.87%
I don’t care either way 1%

What? Indulgences are still a thing?

Everytime I get a peek into the weird world of Catholicism, it gets stranger and stranger. I had heard before that the Vatican was still offering “indulgences”, token recognition of piety that give you time off in purgatory, but I had no idea that they were going to make it technology driven — a medieval idea given a 21st century facade. But here they go, the Vatican has a new way to get time off in purgatory: follow the Pope on twitter!

All you have to do is follow the Pope’s 140 character tweets as he presides over Catholic World Youth Day in Rio de Janeiro, and presto, indulgences! No word on the exchange rate — is it like one tweet is worth one day off, or 140 seconds, or something? Does retweeting give you a special bonus?

If you thought Catholicism couldn’t possibly get more trivial or silly, I think they’ve just about hit rock bottom.

Oh, wait…

"What really counts is that the tweets the Pope sends from Brazil or the photos of the Catholic World Youth Day that go up on Pinterest produce authentic spiritual fruit in the hearts of everyone," said Celli.

Pinterest, too?

Could we also get spiritual credit if we set up a Pope porn tumblr?

I want royalties!

Sunday night, I suggested names for sequels to Sharknado…and this was one of them!

sharkcano

Looks awesome. Although, I have to confess that my favorite at that link was “Sharknado 2: Aftersharks”. Heh. Aftersharks. Get it?

(Please, Syfy, don’t make any of these. It’s just a joke. Someday I’d like to see some intelligent science fiction on the television, and you aren’t helping.)

A bad game is a bad game

The Russian Orthodox have produced a ‘game’ in which you destroy members of Pussy Riot who are charging at a cathedral.

killpussyriot

The intent is pure eliminationism: you wave a cross-shaped cursor at the little icons and they get zapped, and you get a score that is simply how many Pussy Rioters you eliminate. But it’s also a really bad game, since all you have to do is wiggle your mouse and *poof*, your enemies disappear — no strategy or skill is required, just boring, repetitious cursor movements. It’s kind of representative of the church, I guess: mindless ritual that makes your imaginary foes go away, all done with a complete lack of imagination and talent.

Yes, you can play the game at the link. You’ll only do it for a few rounds at most before you’re incredibly bored.

Some conversations don’t deserve to be furthered

Oh, christ. It’s the philosopher’s version of the Courtier’s Reply. There’s been some back and forth about Christopher Hitchens on Salon, with the first hack at Hitchens by Curtis White (and a ghastly bafflegab it was), followed by a defense by Dellora, and now Joe Winkler charges in, arguing that Hitchens wasn’t a philosopher.

All right, stipulated. He was not a philosopher. Much as I may respect some philosophy, you know that it’s no insult to state that someone is not a philosopher, and when someone uses philosophy as a clumsy bludgeon as does this Winkler fellow, it’s actually a compliment.

It’s another terrible effort at religious apologetics through confusion. This one paragraph ought to be enough to indict him on charges of sowing doubt and discord through dissembling noise.

Religion itself, especially the avant garde thought of religion, has been grappling with the issue of historicity in an honest manner for decades. What’s worse is that Hitch doesn’t really do justice to the systems of countless of thinkers (Wittgenstein, Jung, Heschel and Niebuhr) who discuss the nature of religious claims and their relationship to truth. At no point does Hitch think to ask himself in this respect, what kind of truth are we talking about, historical truth, experiential truth, or maybe symbolic truth?

Jebus. I throw up my hands and throw up my lunch.

So what is, for instance, the claim of an afterlife? Historical? Nope. No one has died and come back to credibly summarize the event for us. Experiential? Have you died lately? Symbolic? Symbolic of what? We can play this game for every single contrivance of religion — it’s authority in morality, the power of prayer, transubstantiation, salvation, whatever. I don’t give a good god damn what label you give it or whether somebody believes in it fervently — it doesn’t make it true in any reasonable sense of the word.

And I mean true in the good old practical, pragmatic sense of being repeatable or verifiable, having some material evidence for its reality, or having verifiable consequences that cannot be explained by mundane, plausible phenomena.

How about true in the sense of it actually happened, or the process actually works?

You know, in the kinds of masturbatory games some philosophers and theologians play with the truth, they could just as well argue that Harry Potter is “true”, in the same sense as Jesus. Winkler tries to argue that what he calls “polemics”, or what I call cutting through the pretense, are “interesting, enlightening and often compelling, [but] rarely further the conversation.” That’s true, but only because he seems to regard spewing more bullshit as “conversation”. Sometimes the smartest thing you can do is shut down the stupid conversation by tearing apart its counterproductive premises, and simply ending the circle jerk.

Who needs science when you’ve got technology?

When we last encountered Virginia Heffernan, she was upset that hatefest science blogs had journalistic integrity, and encouraged everyone to read science denialist blogs instead; then the usual gang of anti-science frauds joined in, with Rod Dreher and various Catholics chiming in. It was all over the Pepsico debacle, in which the Scienceblogs management gave advertorial space to Pepsi without marking it as an ad, prompting a whole bunch of science journalists to promptly decamp…but Heffernan exposed herself as just generally anti-science in her reaction.

Now she’s back, declaring that she loves technology and dislikes science, and that she’s openly a creationist.

I assume that other people love science and technology, since the fields are often lumped together, but I rarely meet people like that. Technology people are trippy; our minds are blown by the romance of telecom. At the same time, the people I know who consider themselves scientists by nature seem to be super-skeptical types who can be counted on to denigrate religion, fear climate change and think most people—most Americans—are dopey sheep who believe in angels and know nothing about all the gross carbon they trail, like “Pig-Pen.”

Did I mention she’s a raving climate change denialist? Yeah, she’s a raving climate change denialist and a creationist, but she loves her little smart phone. And her entire argument against science is that she doesn’t understand it, it’s complicated enough to contain internal debates, and she has this bigoted stereotype of what scientists are like. Oh, and science stories are impersonal, while Bible stories are fun and amusing.

She also mentions that the just-so stories of evolutionary psychology are inconsistent BS, but she’s such a delusional twit that I can’t even agree with her there, just on principle, much as I’d like to.

You know, I don’t assume most Americans are dopey sheep. It takes a little evidence to convince me. But at least I can say that Virginia Heffernan has persuaded me that she, at least, is a dopey sheep. Maybe that’s her problem; every time she meets a scientist she opens her mouth and says something stupid, and they react appropriately.

I can’t believe I watched the whole thing

Here’s Ray Comfort’s “movie”, all 40+ blah, repetitive minutes of it. It’s the standard schtick: Comfort sticks a microphone in somebody’s face, asks a leading question, and then edits their answers and splices them into an appalling gemische of Smug Ray vs. Ambushed Folk.



He loves to go after students — he can get lots of confusion and uncertainty from them that he can assemble into a long litany of doubt. And when he got four professors, who are confident and know their stuff, and he edits the heck out of them. He pretends here that we have no examples of evidence for evolution, but as you’ll see if you bother to watch the piece of crap, every time we offered strong evidence, he rejects it by assertion, insisting that we have to show him evidence that one “kind” transformed into another “kind”, where he gets to define whether something is a new “kind” or not. And if we mention the fossil evidence, he rejects that, too, because he wants evidence of a transformation he can see right in front of his eyes, and all that dead stuff was millions of years ago (we say).

The last bit of this monstrosity is a long commercial for Way of the Master and the Creation Museum, plus lots of Jesusy nonsense. It really isn’t a movie by any stretch of the imagination — it’s an overlong infomercial for Comfort’s clownish apologetics act.

Skip it unless you’re feeling deeply masochistic.