Unbecoming Levity

Attention Wal*Mart Shoppers: You Make Me Sick

Abacquer — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 09:54:37 -0500

I'd like to take this opportunity to express my utter disgust at the crowd of shoppers who mobbed the doors of a Wal*Mart in Long Island yesterday morning, broke through the doors, and trampled a 34-year old employee to death. There is NOTHING that can be found in Wal*Mart that is worth crushing a human being for--none of you were in desperate need of food or medicines that could only be had in that store and nowhere else on the planet. Believe it or not, your kids will survive if they don't get Guitar Hero for Christmas.

Wal-Mart Employee Trampled to Death (The New York Times):
...Detective Lt. Michael Fleming, who is in charge of the investigation for the Nassau police, said the store lacked adequate security. He called the scene "utter chaos" and said the "crowd was out of control." As for those who had run over the victim, criminal charges were possible, the lieutenant said. "I’ve heard other people call this an accident, but it is not," he said. "Certainly it was a foreseeable act."...

I strongly urge the detective and the county DA to pursue criminal charges against these people. There is security video from the store, so there should be no problem identifying them and providing evidence of their guilt. Nobody "accidentally" breaks a door down and kills a man. The Damour family will have an empty seat at the dinner table for the rest of their lives because of a bunch of stupid assholes wanted to save a buck.

It's 2008 folks, you don't get to be cattle anymore. Whoever went to that Wal*Mart yesterday morning and forgot to bring their humanity? I hope you rot in prison.

Election: Rest in Peace, Madelyn Dunham

Abacquer — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 17:40:21 -0500

Obama's grandmother passed away on Sunday from cancer. Reuters has the story.

I know what it's like to lose someone you love, particularly when that person is one of the formative figures in your life. I can't imagine how hard it must be for Obama to push on with this campaign in light of this news.

My condolences to him, his sister Maya, and their families.

Bye Pooch

Abacquer — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 11:58:45 -0400

Well, my old dog had her last morning this morning. We knew she wasn't well when she wouldn't eat and was having trouble moving around the kitchen. A quick trip to the vet confirmed that the old girl had tumors all through her body and was on her last legs. The vet said that putting her down humanely was the best option for her, so that's what we did.

She was a good dog, and in her older years she and I became much closer than when she was younger. Apart from the last couple days she was always in good spirits, and would often do something we called "the happy Tina dance"... it involved her rolling about on the floor and kicking her legs happily while arching her back. The last time I saw her do it was last week after I gave her a bath. So I know she was happy pretty much right up to the end.

So long Tumblin' Tina... for 15 years you've been a faithful (if dimwitted) companion to us, and we will always love you.

Seven More To Go

Abacquer — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 12:54:16 -0400

As you know I had extensive oral surgery last year to remove all but seven of my teeth for health reasons. Over the intervening year I have watched those remaining teeth degrade over time. Before long they were staining, losing chips, and otherwise falling apart... as I had feared they might.

The other day my lower partial denture broke in half so I visited my dentist this morning and asked him to look at the teeth. He was surprised at their state. He could tell I have been taking care of them, but nonetheless they are deteriorating rapidly. There was nothing else for it really, except to remove these teeth as well.

So he took an impression today for a new (full) lower plate and an updated impression for the upper denture, plus x-rays for the oral surgeon. In two weeks time I go to see him again for some final impressions and then they will set up my surgery. After that I'll be back for adjustments and then the long sorry tale of my teeth will finally be over.

I'm blue about it of course, but I am trying to take it in stride. These things happen. Better it be handled now before these teeth start making me sick again.

It turned out that the temporary lower partial was indeed not made to last, the final lower partial would have had a metal or otherwise far more permanent construction. At least I got a year+ wear out of it. No sense in repairing it now since the rest of the teeth have to go.

Watching Ants

Abacquer — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 17:04:49 -0400

Yes I know, first I'm writing about the likelihood of contacting alien civilizations, then I'm talking about immortal humans who have sex for three days straight and write books in their sleep, and then about creepy flickrites, and now I am writing about watching ants. You don't come here for consistency.

I was leaving my office around lunchtime the other day for a brief walk. The front of the building has a raised garden with some azaleas and a really nice looking stone wall bordering it. As I walked out I noticed the wall was swimming in tiny black ants. Not the big ones you see wondering solo, but hordes of teensy ones. Usually that means that a tasty food item has been discovered and the colony is out to disassemble it and carry it back. I could see where the ants were clumped up, but didn't notice anything there that I recognized as anything ants would want to eat. But I figured maybe somebody had spilled a soda and they were gobbling up dried sugars right off the rockface. I went off to my walk and didn't think any more about it.

Later that night when I left work, I glanced at the wall and noticed the big cluster of ants was still there, but it had moved a few feet to the right. Again no food was evident. Just ants in a big tangled mass. So I leaned close to peer at them and noticed that ants were bunching up around other ants, and apparently biting each other. Other ants seemed to be carrying away dead (or dying ants). I leaned back and noticed that unlike a typical feeding situation where you see a river of ants leading from the colony to the food and back, this was the meeting place of two rivers of ants. One from one crevice about 5 feet to the left, and another from a crevice about 4 feet to the right.

That's when I realized I wasn't watching a feeding frenzy. I was watching a war. It was an epic battle between two colonies of ants that had both claimed this rock wall as their territory. Thousands upon thousands of ants continually poured from both crevices, and converged in the center to engage in a massive melee. It was mesmerizing to watch the supply lines bringing in fresh ants as the wounded or the dead were hauled away (presumably as food). They moved in tides and complex whorling patterns as they made war... it was so intricate it was actually mesmerizing. I checked my camera bag but I had neglected to bring ANY macro lenses with me that day, or I would have had pictures of all-out insect warfare and abject carnage to upload to my photostream.

It made me a little sad to think of these ants fighting for hours over a few feet of turf. After 15 minutes I suddenly realized the time and made a mental note to bring my macro lens to work today.

But when I arrived this morning, the battle was over, and the battlefield had been swept clean. Had I not noticed it, the day before, I never would have known it had happened. In my inner thoughts I could not help but make the connection between the affairs of the ants and the affairs of humanity. In 100,000 years, if humans are still here, what great battles and wretched suffering of ours will have passed into the unknown? Will we forget World War 2? Will we forget the Holocaust? Will we repeat it? Big thoughts from the tragic ant war of June 25, 2008.

Name of the Earth

Abacquer — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 02:07:13 -0400

Mara finished her book and wandered into the atrium Kennis had entered a few days earlier.

"What are you doing Kennis?"

"I am watching the moon."

"Why?"

"It pleases me to do so, Mara."

"Will you do so awhile longer then?"

"For at least a thousand more years."

Folding her delicate arms, Mara leaned against the doorway and stared at her. Kennis sat, legs folded, mouth slightly open, her olive skin and brown eyes awash in the moonlight that poured through the windows of the atrium and bathed her slight features.

"Will you stand there and study me all night?" Kennis asked without turning to look at her.

"Yes, for a thousand years as it so pleases me."

With a faint exhale Kennis smiled and glanced down with a smirk.

"My love you have forgotten the moon..." Mara admonished coyly.

She looked back at Mara, with her hair rimmed by the moonlight. Her eyes, even darker in silhouette, held a mischeivous promise floating in a sea of devotion. "But I have remembered something more important."

With a playful glance over her shoulder Mara feigned ignorance. "Whatever could that be? A star perhaps? I may have spotted one out of the library window."

In a fluid motion Kennis rose, her silk kimono changing from aqua to burgundy as she approached. Her message was clear, Mara looked down and changed her simple white sari into a demure amber robe in response.

"And after that, shall we sleep?" Mara asked.

"It has been many years."

"Seven hundred and twelve."

"Do you remember how?"

"Do you remember the last time either of us forgot anything?"

Kennis leaned in close, her kimono faintly disappating in wisps of wine-scented mist, "I forgot the moon a moment ago." The kiss was sweet, long, and pulled gently at something deep within Mara... something she had indeed forgotten.

For many days afterward they laid on the couch by the atrium window in each others arms, their garments a pool of particulate mist on the floor nearby, and watched the moon together.

"What did you write about?" Kennis finally asked.

"When?"

"The day you entered the atrium and spoke to me. I assume you wrote a book that day."

"I write a book every day."

"And on that day?"

"I wrote about humans."

"What species?"

"Homo sapiens."

"Ah, our progenitor species. May I read it?" Kennis asked.

"My love you may read any book I publish, and even those I don't."

Kennis closed her eyes and became quiet. Mara stared at the moon. Kennis was right, it was pleasing to do. Perhaps her next book would be about the moon. Kennis smiled and opened her eyes.

"That was wonderful, you almost make them appealing."

"There was among them everything that gave rise to us, my love, to you, and I find much appealing in you."

"And I in you, Mara, but there was also among them everything that led to their extinction."

"Nothing that couldn't be cured with education."

Kennis raised one eyebrow at her.

"Well, " she smirked, "maybe that and a little genetic surgery."

"Shall we try to repopulate the species?"

"I think I would like that, as long as we don't have to impersonate deities."

"Shall we do it tomorrow?"

"No, Earth must process the poisons in its environment before humans can survive there."

"Nanos."

"No. No nanos. Else they would not be Homo sapiens, but Homo lentus." Mara said.

"Not without genetic surgery--"

"Which the nanos would automatically perform."

Kennis thought a moment. "Shall we create them on the moon then? Construct an environment for them?"

"Humans belong on Earth. They are bound to that world, genetically suited to live there. This was the birthplace of Homo immortalis--but we are suited to dwell anywhere."

"Do you not worry that the humans will simply make wars again? Poison their world again? I deeply felt your sentiment for them, but they are barely out of the realm of the apes, they will fight over anything, and are able to maintain such cognitive dissonance that they will destroy their own environment and doom their own species. Do you really think education can save their species, preserve it?"

"Why not?"

"Because, my dear, education was what caused the division in the species last time. Homo lentus was the result of those humans who actively worked to improve their species. The only thing that 'preserved' Homo sapiens were those who willfully remained uneducated out of fealty to mythological creatures. Right up until they destroyed themselves. It's perverse to be favored by natural selection because of your intelligence and refuse to use it--a lemming gene at work perhaps."

"I should still like to try."

Kennis closed her eyes briefly and then reopened them. "Latest estimates are 36,000 years before the Earth has processed all of the poisons in its environment."

"Shall we sleep until then?"

"I think I should like that. What books will you write while we sleep?"

"I have three I started while we made love that I need to finish, and then I think I shall write one about the Moon."

"You didn't finish? Was I that distracting?"

"Yes, although one I cannot finish."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how it ends." Mara yawned. "I have not felt tired for many centuries. This is a peculiar sensation."

She reached out with one arm and touched a finger to the pool of mist on the floor. Immediately the mist swam over them and solidified into a patchwork quilt of subtle grays resembling the lunar surface.

Kennis watched Mara sleep for a day and then turned her attention to the Earth outside the atrium window, shrouded in soupy haze. She doubted the wisdom of returning to the planet the species that had proven so ill-equipped to look after it. Mara's book about the moon was published while Kennis contemplated the Earth, and Kennis found it as fascinating as Ellan's volume on the geology of Ganymede and forwarded it to her to read. Mara's voice floated unbidden into her consciousness, woven into the stream of information entering her network receiver. I thought you were going to sleep with me.

Sorry love, I was thinking. I loved your book on the moon.

Do you not wish to sleep?

I might enjoy looking at you more than sleeping.

Come nestle in my mind with me, let our thoughts tangle together in wonderful disarray. There will be plenty of time to sort them out later.

I can do that with my eyes open, Mara.

Try feeling tired. Your biology will take over from there.

Kennis felt tired, and soon she slept. Once she was no longer conscious, all of the furnishings apart from the couch and blanket immediately dissolved into mist and disappeared through vents near the floor to be stored until needed. The habitat maintained its position automatically and carefully so that the light reflected from the moon would pass through the atrium window and illuminate the photosynthetic skin of the sleepers for many thousands of years.

"Mara, wake up." Kennis said.

Mara opened her eyes. "Did I oversleep?"

"No. It has only been 24,078 years, but there has been a development."

"What happened?"

"See for yourself." Kennis said, indicating the window.

Mara glanced out and was shocked to discover the Earth was unshrouded and most of the landmasses were a glorious shade of orange.

"Is this a predicted stage in the processing of the poisons?"

"No. There is a new species of life on this planet borne out of the poisonous environment, which has converted the pollutants into new compounds and created a new state of equilibrium."

"Suitable for Homo sapiens?"

"Not remotely. I checked with Ellan and Tyr and they have modeled it is likely that this species will achieve sentience in a few million years. I'm afraid that Earth does not belong to Homo sapiens anymore."

"No return to Eden, " Mara said softly. A small tear travelled down her cheek. She touched it and glanced at her finger, with a faint mote of puzzlement on her brow.

"I assume the moon is off limits, then?" Kennis asked.

"Of course, it belongs to this new species." Mara said.

"Perhaps another world? There are thousands that might suffice."

"Perhaps. I think I am going to miss looking at the moon."

"We can remain here for a few million years and contemplate it. Maybe get to know this new species when they venture forth from their world."

"No. Let's leave. This was our birthplace, and it is about time we left the nursery and explored our universe. It has been nearly 100,000 years since we last saw Ellan and Tyr."

"What about making humans?"

"Call it a romantic notion."

"Your book on the idea received some great reviews."

"Another time maybe."

Sensing the subject closed for the time being, Kennis closed her eyes and cast out the sensor net.

"Ellan and Tyr are at Regulus. They would love to have us for a few years. We can be under way immediately if you like."

Mara glanced thoughtfully at the Earth for a moment and then rose from the couch, wrapped the blanket around her and left the atrium.

"Well I'd best make myself presentable then."

In the harsh light of Sol, the habitat finally pivoted away from the moon, wavered in many shades and colors, and then vanished.

The orange world waited for those who would give it a new name.

NOTE: I wrote the above story fragment off the cuff in a forum I frequent. You can find the original post here.

Bye Nana

Abacquer — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 18:18:04 -0400

My father's mother, and my last surviving grandparent passed away last week. She was 92 years old. I'll be attending her funeral tomorrow. This was pretty rough on all of us, coming as it did shortly after the first anniversary of my Dad's passing. I find myself wondering if I will always greet spring with sadness. My Nana was a spirited character throughout most of her life, and I remember many happy afternoon visits with her when I was a kid. I'll miss her.

Here's an obituary for my Nana.

OIC, No Human Rights For Me

Abacquer — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 01:40:00 -0400

This freaking blows me away. I'm speechless (literally.)

Farewell Gary

Abacquer — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 18:36:21 -0500

Gary Gygax, creator of Dungeons & Dragons, a pastime that occupied many happy hours of my childhood, died today at the age of 69. c|net News.com homage to Gygax. Bye Gary... thanks for all the wonderful adventures.

End of an Era

Abacquer — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 11:39:47 -0400

Well, after years of collecting, I've finally begun selling off pieces of my Magic: the Gathering trading card collection. The collection is enormous, and I'm hopeful that I can wring enough cash out of it to get the camera gear I feel is necessary to start attempting to supplement my income. Wish me luck!

Why I am an Atheist

Abacquer — Sat, 19 May 2007 13:17:10 -0400

From Atheism to Catholicism:

My journey to atheism took about 25 years. It was not a journey fraught with disaster (any more than any average person's life is) but it was not exactly easy. In 1967 I was born, as all babies are, an atheist. My parents were Roman Catholics, and fairly devout ones at that.

Over the next 17 years or so I was indoctrinated into the Roman Catholic religion. I remember many, MANY, Sundays in church when I was younger. As my parents became busier and busier with work and life in general, we went to church less and less. Which was fine with me. I was hyperactive and having to sit in an uncomfortable pew while an old guy babbled for an hour on a Sunday morning was very difficult for me. Eventually our trips to the church were only occasional, Christmas, Easter, etc.--the big holidays.

My Dad had converted to Catholicism from Protestantism so that he could marry my Mom. He made clear to me in a number of conversations that his belief was not strictly Catholic. The most memorable conversation was one where he described a sort of "Gaea Hypothesis" where the Earth itself was what we think of as "God", a living organism with a desire to reproduce, which is why it had evolved humans, so that we could journey to other worlds and bring life there.

Dad loved Carl Sagan, and I have fond memories of watching Cosmos with him. I understood some of it, but not all of it due to my youth. When Carl gently explained with his "why not skip a step?" lecture about God and the origin of the universe, I didn't realize I was being exposed to atheistic cosmology. (For those of you that missed it, you should check it out, Carl was a wonderful teacher.)

My Mom, a good Irish woman, worked hard to keep my Catholicism strong. She sent me to CCD (Sunday school) until I flat out refused to go. Even as a believer, Sunday school seemed to be a joke... what a waste of time. And as previously stated, she got me to church for many years, right up to first communion and beyond. By the time high school rolled around, my parents were less than impressed with the local public high school that my sister had attended 7 years prior (apparently there was a lot of drugs there and other unpleasantry), so they decided to send me to a parochial school.

Catholic school was very different from public school, but even as an atheist now, I am pleased to report that my education there was of high quality. There was no shirking of evolution (it was a Catholic school, after all), and I remember only a couple teachers whom I felt really didn't belong there. The indoctrination, at the time, didn't seem like indoctrination. It is only in hindsight that I can see how Catholicism was drilled into me on a daily basis. By this time my family were not regular churchgoers, and the school priest was concerned about the fact that I would not be confirmed. So he encouraged me to seek confirmation on my own, which I did. I was confirmed with the name "Peter" and from that point on actually went so far as to add Peter to my name as a second middle name. Asked to sign anything I would write Charles Douglas Peter ... I thought it was pretty cool to have a second middle name, and wearing that name was like wearing a badge of my Christianity--Peter, the rock, upon which Christ built his church.

For a time, I began going to church again by myself--I was highly motivated (by guilt) to do right by God. But I had been motivated by guilt my entire life, and in experiencing the sorts of things every young boy experiences at one time or another, I was wracked with it. I agonized with guilt over the normal feelings a male experiences. I spent many a quiet hour alone and near tears over the eternal damnation that awaited me as a sinner. You see I was terrified of confession... I couldn't possibly sit in a little black room with a priest who knew me and pour out all my terrible sins, I just couldn't possibly do it. I would never be able to look him in the eye again. I tried to explain to one of my relatives once that I didn't like confession, and was informed "Well then, you're a heathen" much to my dismay. Thus when I went to confession, I stuck to stuff that was pretty unremarkable, and left the booth each time knowing that not all my sins had been forgiven. How draconian a system of forgiveness! I can't just drop to my knees and ask for it? An all-powerful being who already knows of each of my sins, and can read my mind and see how tormented I am, but who can't forgive me unless I go to the nearest service center and speak with a representative?

By my senior year in high school, with some of the early angst of puberty behind me, I was beginning to mature into an adult. At that time, I came to a decision that brought me peace. "When I go away to college," I thought to myself, "I'll take a weekend and drive really far, far, away from anyplace I've ever been, or will ever go again, and I'll finally confess these sins to a priest who I will never have to look in the eye afterward." Knowing I wouldn't have to carry this weight forever, that there was a way out, made me feel much better about it. The road to God's kingdom was clear, all I needed was a car and a tankful of gas. This decision brought me great peace, and with the guilt in check, I suddenly became much happier. I began to get along with the other kids better, and even became somewhat respected as an individual by my peers. I also stopped going to church, figuring I could take care of all that when I went on my "religious retreat next year".

To Nondenominational Christianity:

And so I went off to college. And there I became friends with people of all different creeds including agnostics and atheists. It was an exciting time and I was finding many new schools of thought that fascinated me. I was growing. It was in college that I came to understand that the "sins" I had been beating myself up over for years were an extremely normal part of boyhood. Before long I felt quite silly for agonizing over them, which in turn made me even happier. I decided to put the religious retreat on hold until I figured out where my life was going.

Over the next couple years I concluded that the problem was organized religion itself. I had become aware of the sordid history of my church, and of other churches and religions, and came to the conclusion that it was my personal relationship with God that mattered. I changed from Catholic to simply "Christian". I was very familiar with the bible, having spent years studying it, and felt I could try to live by some of the precepts set forth by Christ, seek forgiveness from God directly, and ignore all of the hateful crazy stuff that the bible was so rife with.

By the time college ended, my beliefs had changed again, mostly through discussions with my fiance, who was raised Lutheran. I felt that the basic moral code of Christ was mostly a good one and had become aware of just how poorly people who were supposed to be exemplary Christians understood his teachings and how they were in many ways waving the banner of Christ while behaving in an exceedingly unchristlike fashion. In that sense, his "church" didn't survive very long after his death, and transformed into something else. I was aware that many had called themselves messiah and there was no more reason to believe in their divinity than in Christ's. It amused me that if Christ lived today, he'd have been shouted down as a long-haired beatnick hippie liberal. I was aware of just how much of the story of his life was now in doubt, much of it having been edited in order to fit with earlier prophecy.

To Deism:

I was no longer a Christian. I thought that perhaps a God existed, but it seemed to me a being who had created the entire universe would have far, far, too much on his mind to worry over poor little me. It was silly. Apart from the love and support of my friends, family, and fiance, I was on my own. There was no almighty being who was checking off an attendance sheet every Sunday, and counting every time I looked at the fanny of a lovely lady and felt desire. All those years of agonizing guilt were years WASTED. How differently my life might have turned out had I not been so weighted down with the assured eternal torment that came with thinking boobies were interesting. But I was not angry at God, or the church, or Catholicism, or my parents. I was only angry with myself, for not coming to the realization sooner. At this point I was wavering between Christian and Deist. I still believed there probably was a God, but he was nothing like any God humanity had ever imagined. The very idea that a man or woman could "tell you about God" seemed ludicrous. Our knowledge of the universe was absolutely paltry. There were planetoids circling our own sun that we hadn't discovered yet, and we had not discovered a single extrasolar world for lack of equipment capable enough. And yet our sun was one of billions, in a galaxy that was one of millions of billions of galaxies... the universe was, for any practical purpose, infinite. And some dork with a 2000 year old book written by sheepherders is going to tell me he knows the mind of the God that created more than he could ever be aware of? Puhlease.

The following year we got married. We both felt, for our families' sakes, that we should marry in a religious ceremony. It seemed easier to do that than to explain to our parents that we didn't share their religious convictions. And, I had a certain attachment to my old church. Even if I didn't believe anymore, I loved the old building, and remembering eying the architecture with wonder as a young boy. So we jumped through all the hoops and did the pre-cana classes and finally got married after five years together. Being married didn't change anything about our feelings for each other, we were already devoted to one another and for years had shared a single apartment and checking account. Over the next few years I continued to grow (or shrink if you prefer) theistically.

To Agnosticism and finally Atheism:

Shortly after marriage I left deism behind and moved to agnosticism, and then finally to atheism. This last leg of the journey was achieved simply through study and keeping an open mind. I spent many nights pondering the existence of a God. Many Christians feel that atheists are people who were molested by priests or who had something really bad happen to them that made them doubt God. But my journey to enlightenment simply came through thought and reason. Not once did I ever come to the conclusion that God didn't exist because of bad things that happened to myself or others. My mind, and the minds of great thinkers, set me free from belief in a deity. And it was in freedom that I began to grow more than I ever had before.

That final transition from agnosticism to atheism did not come from arguments considering the likelihood of God, as put forth so eloquently by Dr. Richard Dawkins, but simply from an understanding of belief and science. Nothing had ever sprung into existence from belief, and primitive humans, seeking to explain the world around them, had come up with beliefs based on their limited experience to explain their world. There was a god of thunder, and a god of the river, and a god of this and of that, a final go-to place to explain that which was as yet unexplainable. These gods were inventions, we know that now, and we assuredly believe that our particular god is nonetheless real. Why? The universe existed for billions of years before humans did. Life existed for millions of years before human did. There are almost certainly other worlds out there with life on them somewhere. Why would we imagine that their God is our God?

It became clear that God is a product of man, and he still exists as a go-to for those questions that still are not answered and to comfort us. Through a god and afterlife, we are eternal, our consciousness the manifestation of an immortal spirit that will rejoin its loved ones who have passed on before when we die. The God hypothesis makes us live forever. And further, it addresses the common lament that life is not fair, God will mete out justice. If an awful, evil man becomes powerful and lives a long happy life hurting others, we can take solace that after death, he will be brought to account for his transgressions. The God hypothesis makes life fair. This is why the God hypothesis exists--to make us feel better. It is a comforting idea, in my opinion. But that doesn't make it true.

Which is where the science comes in. Science and good old Occam's Razor. A hypothesis only becomes a theory through testing, and the God hypothesis is untestable. First of all, most religions make quite clear that their gods will not abide being tested. Why? Because testing yields no confirmation. Get 10,000 believers together and have them pray over a guy with no legs and he will not grow new ones. Ever. Believing doesn't make things happen. Herbert Benson's recent study of believers praying for heart surgey patients found no positive effect on the outcome of the surgery and even had a slight negative effect for those patients who knew they were being prayed for. Secondly there is no evidence. Such evidence that has turned up (such as the Shroud of Turin) has failed under scrutiny. You can't get from hypothesis to theory without observable and verifiable evidence. Thirdly, the predictions of the God hypothesis are nonfalsifiable since there is no way to communicate with those "in the afterlife". Instead such predictions are painfully ambiguous so as to be rationalized easily, and serve as raw materials from which charlatans can build a living preying on the gullible or the bereaved. Which brings me back to Occam's Razor... the God hypothesis is an incredibly complex answer to the origin of humanity, whereas Darwin's elegant theory of natural selection and evolution is a very simple one--one that makes predictions which stand up to testing, and for which there are mountains of supporting evidence. Occam's Razor cuts away the God hypothesis, leaving the simpler and scientifically sound evolutionary explanation. There simply isn't any good reason to assume the existence of a supreme being until such time as evidence is discovered to support it.

And so I dropped the (perhaps somewhat pretentious) "Peter" from my name, and went back to being just Charles Douglas. So much the better, as Douglas is my father's name, and he was the saintliest person I ever knew.

Enlightenment:

Without a poorly fitting fairytale stretched over it, bursting at the seams, the world finally made sense. Things snapped into place and became clear. I could now ponder the origins of morality, religion, science, humanity, and the universe without the blinders of faith. I could consider modern moral questions (such as gay marriage, abortion, and so forth) without the infernally nonsensical mandates of the Judeochristian deity. I was happier than I ever remembered being, finding a remarkable peace that did away with guilt. I was an atheist, happily married to another atheist, and together we could do much good for our fellow humans, and lead productive and joyful lives together. It was only after becoming an atheist that I began studying some of the atheist literature that was available, becoming more familiar with Carl Sagan, Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, George H. Smith, Jonathan Miller, and the witty and caustic Christopher Hitchens. (I confess that I have not read all these authors.)

Some years later our daughter was born, and we agreed to raise her in a world without superstition and supernatural nonsense. She would be taught that she should be a good person all on her own, without a scary boojum that was going to "get her" if she didn't. I think it was good for her, because she is like me, a creature of guilt, and I am so happy to see that she isn't crushed under it like I was. Are we indoctrinating her? Perhaps. Young minds need instruction. So we teach her how to be a good human being and leave it at that. I've made quite clear to her that when she is older, if she decides to pursue a religion of one sort or another, I will love her every bit as much. The only thing I ask is that she wait until she is older to make that decision, so that she makes it with an adult mind, instead of a childlike one. Perhaps I needn't worry so much. When her world had a Santa Claus and tooth fairy in it, she viewed the possibility of God as somewhat greater than zero. When she was freed of those illusions her worldview became much more pragmatic and she seems happier with the knowledge that the world makes sense, even if life isn't fair and is sometimes very sad.

It was shortly after my kid was born that I made it clear to my parents that I was not a Christian. Mostly because my Mom kept hinting at a "christening" for my daughter. When was the baptism going to happen? And so forth. My family has respected my choice to varying degrees of worry, my father being the clearest. He summed it up quite succinctly: "your Mom doesn't like it but it doesn't matter to me." My Dad was incredibly broadminded and thoughtful, deeply philosophical, and just all around great. I really miss him. My wife's family is similarly mostly respectful of her choice, except for one of them who is convinced that I "corrupted" her. (This person would doubtless be surprised to know that Patty was an atheist long before I was.)

Living as an Atheist:

Living as we do, in liberal Massachusetts, where the basic humanist tenet of "live and let live" is alive and well, we are not persecuted for our lack of faith. We get along well with our neighbors and friends, and pretty much don't talk about faith unless the subject comes up. So far so good, but I read too much of the news not to see that atheists are persecuted in our nation. It is perfectly acceptable to say "I hate atheists" and to express any number of ludicrous stereotypes about people like me. George Bush senior once expressed his opinion that American atheists should not be considered citizens of the USA. My daughter still has to profess a belief in God each morning during the pledge of allegiance, or feel like an outsider among her peers and risk intolerant treatment. Every bit of currency in my pocket shrieks YOU ARE NOT AN AMERICAN at me with its boldfaced assertion that Americans "trust in God". In a court of law, my testimony must be sworn truth before a nonexistant sky-fairy or it is immediately cast into doubt. But that's fine. Most Americans are Christian, and though all these things violate the separation of church and state, I'm prepared to overlook at least the latter two. I know I am a good American, and that my testimony is just as accurate without fealty to some nebulous deity. The pledge bothers me because it is a form of indoctrination, but there are far bigger fish to fry right now. Just take a peek at George God-Told-Me-To-Invade-Iraq Bush for a minute to see how theistic thinking threatens us all when we fail to respect the wall of separation between church and State, erected by the esteemed Thomas Jefferson who was a Deist, not a Christian.

I know too many good people of faith to disparage faith itself, I can only disparage what some do in the name of it. And thus I believe that as long as people aren't actively trying to convert me or persecute me, they are welcome to their faith. I wish them nothing but joy of it. But at the same time I feel a little sad. Although it is a perhaps comforting thought when stepping out on a gorgeous sunny spring day to hear the birds singing that God made that day for me, and has a plan for us all, knowing that it all just happened according to basic laws of nature makes the day and my chance to enjoy it that much rarer and more special for me, and helps me appreciate it in a manner that a theist cannot. What a precious, rare and wonderful world we all live on!

But that's okay. What's important is that we each find our happiness while respecting each other. Maybe I'm an optimist, but I ultimately believe that humanity will mature and either move beyond theism, or at least move to nonconfrontational theism that concerns itself only with the metaphysical, and leaves the physical realm to science. It won't happen in my lifetime, but I'm doing my part to make it happen by being a good moral atheist and raising another good moral atheist. As a good (atheist) friend of mine once taught me, it was Ghandi who said You must be the change you wish to see in the world, he was right. So that's what I'm doing.

Peace.

Scumbag at Work

Abacquer — Wed, 16 May 2007 21:04:29 -0400

An Australian video game designer has caused a major uproar Down Under with his creation of a game based on the Virginia Tech massacre.

Called V-Tech Rampage, the game has several levels of "stealth and murder," reports The Sydney Morning Herald.

But what really is causing the kerfuffle--as if the game itself wasn't in bad enough taste--is that its designer, Ryan Lambourn, says he will take the game down from his Web site only if the public comes up with a $2,000 payoff.

For another grand, he'll apologize...

-- Game designer causes uproar with Virginia Tech game (Tech News Blog)

Hardesty, Oklahoma -- Home of the Ugly Christian

Abacquer — Sun, 13 May 2007 19:58:47 -0400

In another example of fundie Christian love and acceptance, a 13 year old girl in Hardesty, Oklahoma is now being homeschooled after having been basically run out of school by the local knuckledraggers. Please watch this video.

You're a brave girl Nicole. Sorry for what you went through. You should come live in Massachusetts. We have plenty of religious nuts here too, but the area is pretty liberal, and therefore most of the Christians I know actually behave like Christians.

Frustration

Abacquer — Mon, 30 Apr 2007 14:32:47 -0400

This document is going nowhere. I've deleted it and I'll have to start over. I seem to be having trouble focussing today. I think maybe I'm depressed. It just seems like a lot of things are going wrong. Also, I am still greiving, I'm constantly catching myself brooding.

I think I need to take a walk outside for a little while.

Virginia Tech Shooting Spree

Abacquer — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 21:14:04 -0400

I always knew that one day the horror that was Columbine would be surpassed. I just hoped it would never happen in my lifetime, and I didn't expect it to be this bad.

To the families of those killed and wounded at Virginia Tech today, my sorrowful condolonces. This is just awful.

So, Where've You Been?

Abacquer — Mon, 02 Apr 2007 11:46:34 -0400

During my long convalescence I had been pretty blue about not receiving any get well (or later) any sympathy cards or calls from people at work. Just the same I've been eager to get back and see my coworker friends. I'm not 100% better yet, but strong enough to work, and so today is my first day back on the job.

Everybody was happy to see me.

Nearly everybody had no idea where I had been. People had assumed I was working an offsite project or something.

Most apparently didn't know my father had passed away.

Y'know, I've worked in offices where if you were sick for an extended period, you could count on e-mails, phone calls, sympathy cards, and letters of support from your coworkers. Likewise for bereavement.

This used to be one of them.

It's amazing how the place has changed. When I came back I found out one of the people in QA that I liked to work with was gone. No farewell e-mail, no announcement, in fact nobody went around to tell her closest friends that she was no longer with the company. How did I find out? By sending her an e-mail to ask how she was doing and to let her know I was back.

Your message did not reach some or all of the intended
recipients.

Subject: Hey There!
Sent: 4/2/2007 11:17 AM






The following recipient(s) could not be reached:

'Name Omitted' on 4/2/2007 11:17 AM
550 5.1.1 <NOMITTED@MYEMPLOYER.COM>... User unknown

-- *sigh*.

At Some Point Things Are Supposed to Get Better, Right?

Abacquer — Mon, 02 Apr 2007 08:20:13 -0400

These last couple months have just been awful. Things seem to keep going wrong. I'm at the point where I'm beginning to wonder if I've simply been an anomaly up until February... inordinately blessed, and a sadder and more unfortunate life is actually the norm for me.

My Dad passed away, as you all know. I had pneumonia and was mostly unable to work for two months. A close relative of mine was robbed. Last week my wife lost her job. I go back to work today after being out sick for two months and I'm going to have to ask for some time off this week. Why? One of my teeth just fell apart yesterday.

I have an incredible anxiety about visiting dentists and this is why I never go. Combine that with bad teeth and you get my horrible mouth. But the tooth can't stay like this so I am going to have to go in. Which means I can expect a recurring nightmare of dental visits for many months (not to mention the dental expenses at a time I can ill afford them).

Great.

Heralds of Spring

Abacquer — Sun, 18 Mar 2007 22:48:37 -0400

A couple days ago, as I was coming out of the doctor's office, I finally caught on the air the scent that I knew was coming. For me, Spring is heralded by a smell. I can't really describe it... it's damp, a little pungent... it smells like the world thawing out and coming back to life. For me it is typically the otherwise unnoticed boundary that marks the transition from Winter to Spring. And, as with every joyful moment these days, I was immediately filled with a tremendous sadness that my Dad couldn't be there to enjoy it, that I couldn't phone him up or send him an e-mail about it.

This year I got the feel of Spring approaching even before detecting the scent of it. We had some unseasonably warm days, lots of snowmelt, and the appearance of robins and other birds I associate with Spring. A couple days prior to catching the scent I told my wife that I was depressed that Dad didn't get to see the coming of Spring this year. She smiled and said "don't you remember the robins?"

She was right. I had forgotten about that. When I was laid up in bed with pneumonia, my Dad sent me the last e-mail I would ever receive from him, about something he knew I would enjoy. I'm going to share it with you:

Date: Sat, 17 Feb 2007 11:59:16 EST
Subject: Hey

Hey Chuck,

How are you feeling? Hope your sickness is dissipating. Wanted to tell you about a strange (strange to me) event that took place here last Thursday. You know how robins show up in pairs usually, well we had a flock show up. I don't ever recall seeing such a thing. Grackles, yes, but not robins. Must have been 50 or more birds in the back yard. In fact our neighbor called to inform us. What they came for were the berries on the holly bushes. They just about cleaned them off. They are still, even today, coming by for more, but there's very little left and only a few birds at a time. The unfortunate aspect is the mess they left behind, it's every where. Have to watch where I step outside.

Pictures aren't great. Was hard to get them all without scaring them away, especially through the windows against the afternoon sun. I think I've seen just about every type bird I'm familiar with around these parts already.

Love you, Dad

In a way, these are my father's last words to me. And upon reflection hearing him say he had seen all the spring birds already, gives me some small solace that Dad got to see this spring. I can't tell you how much I miss him, and how much it hurts to be without him. But at least he saw the birds he loved so much one more time before he passed away. I've started my Spring 2007 photo album, and the first 3 pictures are Dad's robins... some of the photos he sent me when I was sick to help cheer me up. Have a look, I thought they were pretty good pictures actually.

Three Words

Abacquer — Wed, 14 Mar 2007 17:21:50 -0400

There are three words I never wanted to say, even though I knew that someday I would have to say them. Those words are "my Dad was".

My Dad was a wonderful, sweet, kind, and loving man. Doug Seggelin was devoted to his family. He always put others first. He was my hero, and I loved him dearly. He was inventive, and quite brilliant. His room at home is packed with sheets upon sheets of complex equations and diagrams, carefully inscribed in engineering pencil, and I cannot make heads or tails of any of it.

He had a rare wit, and was always making folks laugh. At any family get together, if people started laughing en-masse, you could almost guarantee that my Dad had a hand in it. He loved his grandchildren, and was always making faces to make them smile or playing with them.

He was utterly committed to his wife of 48 years and his children. If I ever asked my Dad for help, he would help me, no matter what. He took great care of his sister who is bedridden with multiple sclerosis, and his mother who turned 91 this year. He was well liked and respected by the people he worked with. He loved animals, particularly birds, and because of this my mother always called him her "Saint Francis of Assisi". He was definitely the closest thing to a saint I've ever known.

My Dad was an all-around great guy, and as far as I'm concerned, the embodiment of what most of us only aspire to be.

My Dad suffered a massive aneurism on March 6'th in the early morning hours, and passed away on March 7'th. His wake was held on Sunday March 11'th at the Blanchard Funeral Chapel (which is owned by his neighbor, and where he had worked for the last couple years as an usher and driver.) He was buried on March 12'th. He was 67 years old.

Now there's just my Mom, my Sister, and myself in the family I grew up in. Add to that our spouses and the grandkids. In the end I think this will make us a closer family. My Sister and I need to look out for Mom now, because she needs a lot of help, and all of us are looking out for each other, because heck, we all need help now. Saying goodbye to Dad was the hardest thing any of us have ever done, and the only thing harder will be getting on without him.

Here's an obituary for my Dad.

At the close of my Dad's funeral service, I read a poem that I had written for him back in the early 1990's, before I myself became a Dad. We printed up 200 copies of the poem superimposed over a picture of my Dad, and left them at the back of the church for people who attended the service to take home. The family always goes out first (and me a little early since my brother-in-law and I were pallbearers.) As I sat in the limo I watched dozens and dozens of people walk by with copies of the poem. It was touching, like sharing a little bit of my wonderful Father with everyone who loved him. In the end it looks like about 120 or so were taken. I'm glad I wrote that poem because it gave me a chance to tell my Dad how much I loved him before he was gone.

So now there's nothing left to do but pick up and try to carry on, and always keep my cherished memories of my Dad. I've got to support my family and always try to do right by his example.

I want to thank my family and friends for their kind words and support over the last week. You guys were awesome. Thanks.

Shaken Up

Abacquer — Tue, 20 Feb 2007 13:18:25 -0500

And yesterday I was feeling so much better about my condition. I just got back from my doctor's appointment.

Although I have improved, I'm clearly not 100% better yet, so she's extending the antibiotics for another 10 days and has scheduled me for a chest CAT scan on Friday.

The xrays revealed cavitary lesions at the base of my left lung, and possibly a fluid-filled cyst. Doc says it may just go away on its own or I may have to have it dealt with surgically. Needless to say that scares the crap out of me. She said the likelihood that I would need such a procedure is very low. I hope she's right.

In the meantime she recommends I do deep breathing (even though it is painful) to stretch out the lung and try to keep it from bunching up as the scar tissue forms. I'm pretty shaken up right now as well as exhausted from the running around, so I'm going to bed.

The Hairy Eyeball

Abacquer — Wed, 03 Jan 2007 00:42:52 -0500

Still sick. So miserable. The fever seems to be gone but the headache/sinus pressure is unpleasant. The wracking cough is still present and making it hard to get any sleep. Plus all the coughing has left the muscles around my chests, sides, and arms aching. Plus as of Tuesday morning, my right eye has gotten red and puffy. This is usually the eye that acts up when I have an allergic reaction, so it's no surprise it's being hit harder by the sinus backup. The eye doesn't hurt or itch, but it looks pretty creepy:

Add to this a regular need to visit the toilet for gastrointestinal distress, and I'm a happy freaking guy.

There's no good time to be sick, but there are times that are worse than others. And this is a pretty bad time for me to be sick. My friend Brian is in town for a visit, all the way from California, and I am not well enough to see him... he goes back on Sunday. I'm supposed to attend a birthday party for my Uncle Lewie on Saturday. I took last week off for vacation and I am on the critical path for my project at work which is supposed to ship next week, so I can't not-work (I've been working from home.) All in all, a great freaking time to be sick as a dog. This sucks.

Bill Maher Loses My Respect

Abacquer — Mon, 30 Oct 2006 22:02:09 -0500

So Steve Irwin dies in September, and in October Bill Maher thinks it would be funny to dress as a dead Steve Irwin for Halloween. What a schmuck. Fuck you Bill. Not funny man, not funny at all.

Whatcha going as next year? A Katrina victim? A World Trade Center victim? Put a fake slice in your neck and go as Daniel Perl? Hey how about going as Michael J. Fox? You can twitch and everything! As someone who was a fan of yours up until about 15 minutes ago, I suggest you dress in your regular clothes and go as an asshole.

Tip of the hat to The Superficial for the story.

Rush Limbaugh -- Blowhard Prick

Abacquer — Wed, 25 Oct 2006 13:00:44 -0400

The actor Michael J. Fox recently appeared in a campaign ad. As everyone knows Mr. Fox has Parkinson's disease, a debilitating illness for which there is no cure. Needless to say...

Too Much To Do, Not Enough Time

Abacquer — Wed, 25 Oct 2006 07:38:57 -0400

I have a new project at work which has an extremely aggressive timeline. I expect that it's going to be a lot of late nights between now and delivery day, so I'll be able to write even less articles here than the paltry few I write now. Just a heads up to those 2 or 3 of you that actually read this stuff.

All Quiet on the ULev Front

Abacquer — Wed, 04 Oct 2006 06:08:08 -0400

Sorry friends, been busy these last few days. Here's a short recap of what's been going on in my life...

Steve Irwin

Abacquer — Mon, 04 Sep 2006 07:45:41 -0400

You may have heard this already, but if not it is with great sadness that I pass on the news that Steve Irwin, "the crocodile hunter", has died. Apparently Mr. Irwin was filming a documentary when he was killed by a stingray in the waters off Port Douglas on Australia's northern coast...

Personality Versus Professionalism

Abacquer — Tue, 25 Apr 2006 08:43:08 -0400

The company I work at has two buildings (one in Burlington, one in Westford) replete with cubicles and offices. I can't say much for the cubicles, but I like the design of the offices. Each office has a narrow window as tall as the door mounted right next to the door. I think this is a great idea. Now when you are about to knock on a closed office door, you can first glance through the window and make sure you aren't disturbing someone in the middle of a meeting or a phone call or whatever.

Several years ago...