Chris Matthews ask Representative Mike Pence a simple question — “Do you believe in evolution?” — and Pence spends 5 minutes squirming avoiding giving an answer. He changes the subject repeatedly, to global warming and stem cells, and tries to pretend that the Republican party doesn’t have a serious problem with an anti-science agenda, which he himself is demonstrating.
I have to commend Matthews, too: he bulldogs that question and won’t let it go. Let’s see more of that from our media, please.
Best read of the day: Roger Ebert muses on mortality.
I don’t expect to die anytime soon. But it could happen this moment, while I am writing. I was talking the other day with Jim Toback, a friend of 35 years, and the conversation turned to our deaths, as it always does. “Ask someone how they feel about death,” he said, “and they’ll tell you everyone’s gonna die. Ask them, In the next 30 seconds? No, no, no, that’s not gonna happen. How about this afternoon? No. What you’re really asking them to admit is, Oh my God, I don’t really exist and I might be gone at any given second.”
Me too, but I hope not. I have plans. Still, this blog has led me resolutely toward the contemplation of death. In the beginning I found myself drawn toward writing about my life. Everyone’s life story is awaiting only the final page. Then I began writing on the subject of evolution, that most consoling of all the sciences, and was engulfed in an unforeseen discussion about God, the afterlife, and religion.
I like that bit about the consolation of evolution — I feel it too, that having a connection to both our long history and our future is really the province of evolution, and that this is where we can find deeper meaning.
The thought of dying any time is real, too. In my case, it’s the awareness that I’m only about 4 years away from having outlived my father (although he also suffered over a dozen long years of heart disease, a history I’ve avoided so far). We could any of us go at any time, and as godless folk, our only relief from melancholy has to be in the taking of joy in reality.
The US military has gathered up a collection of soldier’s bibles…and destroyed them. No word yet on whether Satan’s imps were observed dancing in the flames; I’m sure the wingnut news services will soon be melting down with hysterical tales.
The other day, I read this fawning review by Andrew O’Hehir of Terry Eagleton’s new book, Reason, Faith, and Revolution: Reflections on the God Debate, and was a little surprised. I’ve read a smattering of Eagleton before, and the words “brisk, funny and challenging” or “witty” never came to mind, and the review actually gave no evidence that these adjectives were applicable in this case. I felt like ripping into O’Hehir, but was held up by one awkward lack: I hadn’t read Eagleton’s book. Who knows? Maybe he had found some grain of sense and some literary imperative to write cleanly and plainly.
So I was in New York the other day, and was offered a copy of Eagleton’s book, and took the first step in my imminent doom by accepting it. Then I tried to fly home on Saturday, one of those flights that was plagued with mechanical errors that caused delays and long stretches locked in a tin can, and also flights that were packed tightly with travelers…so crammed with people that they actually took my computer and book bag away from me to pack in the cargo hold, and I had to quickly snatch something to read before the baggage handlers took it away. I grabbed the Eagleton book. Thus was my fate sealed.
I was trapped in a plane for 8 hours with nothing to read but Eagleton and the Sky Mall catalog.
This is an account of my day of misery.
The advertising copy is right: Bali does sound like an exotic wedding destination. But wouldn’t you know it, there is a hitch:
All couples who marry in Indonesia must declare a religion. Agnosticism and Atheism are not recognized. The Civil Registry Office can record marriages of persons of Islam, Hindu, Buddhist, Christian-Protestant and Christian-Catholic faiths. Marriage partners must have the same religion; otherwise one partner must make a written declaration of a change of religion.
The Trophy Wife will not be thrilled to learn that our marriage would not have been valid in Indonesia. The requirement that both partners in the relationship must have the same religion is also weird — there are probably a lot of people out there who have perfectly stable ‘mixed’ marriages who would be surprised.
And it’s gorgeous. Holbo has found a set of scans from a 1972 biology textbook (and an associated blog) that will blow your mind, baby. Here are some eukaryotic cells.
I think this is a very trippy metaphor for the synapse.
I like it. It’s got style. I’m going to have to cruise some used bookstores to see if I can find a copy of Biology Today. If nothing else, I can imagine using some of those illustrations for talks…I’m also going to have to get a polyester suit with very wide lapels and a paisley print shirt, let my hair grow out, and shave the beard, but keep the mustache. Oh, I remember the 60s and 70s!
My prior post on Missouri’s bill permitting pharmacists to neglect their responsibilities was incorrect on one point: the bill has not been passed. The bill has only been proposed. It’s the usual situation:
Not to put too fine a point on it, but the republicans in the Missouri House of Representatives are, to a member, well and truly insane. Â They offer all manner of idiotic bills and amendments that will never see the light of day, and Emery attaching his bill as an amendment to SB 296, legislation dealing with professional registration, is merely supporting evidence of same.
And it’s…Obama!
Ho hum. I was kind of let down. I keep hoping for a big surprise, like that it’s a squirrel living in downtown Des Moines, or that it’s Jan Crouch, but yeah, it’s always the Christian politician who isn’t quite Christian enough for the wingnuts.
Let me just say: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHRGGGHG. It’s the last week of classes here; I have to finish a big pile of grading, and there’s a hogshead of administrative work hanging over my head. I also chose, freely and of my own irresponsible will, to flit off to New York for a pleasant weekend with a mob of science nerds and English majors (and unholy chimeras of the two), which has put me even further behind. I’m stepping away from my thin metal and glass interface to the universe of the interweebles to get some work done. You’ll just have to chat among yourselves about something or other for a while.
I will be back later. I’ve got a long post in the works about my horrendous evil flight back home that I’ll have to share with you. Well, the flight itself wasn’t so bad, but it had Eagleton and Fish and Samuel L. Jackson in it, so it got ugly for a while. I shall purge myself of those evil thoughts once this pile of earnest, thoughtful student labors is converted into soulless but judgmental rows of numbers in a spreadsheet.
