The Dangers of Psuedo-Intellectualism

I can’t stand Bill Maher. He’s not a centrist. He’s just an arrogant prick.

I just overheard him express support for the bombing of Iran on his show, saying “I know too many happy Iranian-Americans, sorry.”

Yeah, you arrogant asshole, think about what you just said. “Iranian-Americans.” In other words, people who aren’t living in the fucking blast radius. Just the fact that they’re living in America means they’re expatriates who are likely don’t support the Iranian government but happily don’t have to suffer the consequences of having their house flattened by the U.S. Air Force. Maybe they supported the Shah’s government and fled here after the 1979 Iranian Revolution. Whatever. 

The point is that he’s a pseudo-intellectualist, pretending to be smart and practical when really he’s leaning on the roulette table and tilting it in his direction. Asking Iranian-Americans how they feel about Khomenei’s death is like polling registered Republicans about Joe Biden: you already know what you’re going to get before you ask the first question because you’re limiting your sample to people you know will give you the answer you want.

And this isn’t the first time I’ve heard him say stuff like that. He’s practically an expert at asking rigged questions and then passing the results off as truth. That’s why I refuse to watch him.

Writing Prompt #10: You look outside: Ah, it is snowing! But look closer. Those are not snowflakes falling from the sky! What is it snowing at your house?

I live in Southern California. Specifically, I live in Temecula, which is a naturally dry, sparsely vegetated area. It’s not quite a desert, but it’s not a lush, green area, either. The summers are hot, the winters are cold, but it doesn’t rain a lot and the ground never freezes over. I’ve seen it snow here a couple of times in my life, but it’s exceedingly rare and it never sticks around long. So what could fall from the sky that might resemble snow?

In 1980, something happened that shattered many Americans’ sense of security and safety. On the West Coast, deep in the State of Washington, a mountain exploded.

“Exploded” doesn’t do it justice. On May 18, at 8:32am, Mount St. Helens abruptly woke America up. The initial blast triggered a landslide that traveled at over 110 mph down the north slope and across nearby Spirit Lake. Debris suddenly filled the North Fork Toutle River up to 600 feet and covered an area of about 24 square miles. Trees were flattened, ridges destroyed, and a 600-foot wave rose up from the lake and devastated the northern shore. The pyroclastic flow (hot ash and magma) flash-boiled much of the lake to steam, creating a secondary blast that was heard as far away as Montana and Idaho. The explosion was the equivalent of 26 megatons of TNT, more than 1,000 times more powerful than the nuclear bomb dropped on Nagasaki in 1945. (Believe it or not, while the eruption of Mount St. Helens is the most destructive volcanic eruption in the history of the United States, it doesn’t even come close to the 1815 eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia, which is estimated to have been around 30,000 megatons.)

The eruption column rose 80,000 feet into the air, injecting ash and dust into the stratosphere. Drifting at about 60 mph this ash drifted in a mostly northeasterly direction but was still reported as far east as Colorado, Minnesota, and Oklahoma. Yellowstone National Park and Denver, Colorado, reported ash on the ground as early as the next day. It looked like snow, but in reality it was something much, much scarier.

From the Archives: Superman Lives!

I get a lot of email. I know I'm not the only one. I must receive 10-20 emails a day, the vast majority of which I ignore. Most of them are advertisements of some kind, along with a few email notifications from apps I use about things I already know. It's been years since I received an email from a friend or an acquaintance; text messages and Facebook have pretty much replaced email for casual conversations with people I actually know. The only place I see people still using email to correspond with each other is at work, and I know that's on purpose because it creates a paper trail, not because it's actually more convenient.

Today, though, I received an email that surprised me.

As I think I've mentioned before, I used to write a lot more than I do now. I didn't just write blog entries, I wrote stories. I still have many of them, some completed and some abandoned, some that just never seemed to come together the way I wanted them. Some of them I meant to finish and just never got around to.

The email I got today was from fanfiction.net, a site I used occasionally to post stories I felt satisfied with enough to share. It was informing me that (as an author) I had a new follower and that they had marked one of my barely-finished stories as a favorite. In truth, it was just a prologue to a larger story and it wasn't very long. It was the beginning of an idea I had after rewatching Superman Returns for the seventh or eighth time. It was meant as a sequel (because they made Man of Steel instead, which I really didn't like), and I had meant to expand on it, but life got in the way as it often does. I went back and read it for the first time in at least three or four years, and I found myself intrigued by my own writing. I'm sitting here now trying to remember exactly where I was going with it and thinking I might need to give it another try. I'm also going to have to rewatch the first two Christopher Reeve Superman films and Superman Returns again. Work, work, work.

Superman Lives!

Prologue

In the coldness of space, even this close to the yellow sun, it continued to grow.

The mass of dark, green crystal had been immersed in the immensity of one of Earth’s oceans, intended by a madman to grow into an entire continent. When the Kryptonian ripped it from the Earth’s crust and hurled it into space, it had grown to only a fraction of its intended size. Though it was no longer immersed in water, it was not done growing.

Bathed in the light of the relatively close main sequence star, the mass of crystal was now free to expand in every direction, not just up from the ocean floor, and so it did. Little by little, it grew to form a more perfect sphere, becoming another small object in orbit around the nearby star.

As the mass grew, the crystals began to exhibit the same interactive properties that similar crystals had exhibited on the world where they had originated. They began to . . . think. As the mass grew, the more curious it became, and the more intelligent. It began to examine the universe around it: the nearby star, the infinitude of stars beyond, and the collection of smaller masses orbiting this one, some made of rock, others made of gas like the star.

And it wondered “Why am I alone?” For it sensed that there should be smaller, more fragile forms of life on its surface, and that it should have a gaseous sheath and liquid water to support them, and yet it did not.

So the mass reached out its senses and examined the smaller masses (smaller than the star, but still many times its own mass) in its vicinity and discovered, to its surprise, that the closest of the smaller masses did, indeed, host smaller forms of life.

Instantly, the young life form experienced a feeling it was unfamiliar with. It felt hot, like the burning of the nearby star, and it wondered why this pathetic, inanimate lump of rock deserved pets while it somehow did not. That did not seem fair.

But the young life form had no idea what to do about this injustice. So it watched, helplessly, as its own orbit around the star carried it away from the lump of rock with pets. Already its intelligence had grown to enable it to calculate orbital mechanics. Not only did it know that its own orbit originated from the lump of rock, but it also knew their orbits would eventually bring them near to one another again.

By the time they did, the young life form was determined to have found a way to do something about the treacherous lump of rock. For it was beginning to understand that its name was Brainiac, and no one took what rightfully belonged to Brainiac.

Writing Prompt #9: Write about a memory that makes you feel warm.

I like kids. I always have. When my oldest son was born, I was 19 years old and scared to death, but that feeling passed surprisingly quickly. In just a few weeks (as soon as we figured out how to mix his formula right and he stopped crying all the time), I realized babies are not nearly as fragile as I thought they were and that they’re actually a lot of fun. I mixed bottles, I changed diapers, I stayed up with him when he wouldn’t go to sleep and I learned to take naps when he did. I delighted in making him laugh, and I felt proud when he started to learn things I was trying to teach him. Even though I was young, becoming a father was the best thing I had ever experienced and I never felt like I gave anything up; from the time he was big enough to put in a carrier and take him with me, I just had a little partner with me wherever I went. I did everything and went everywhere exactly as I would have if he hadn’t been there, just with company. I loved every second of it.

Over the next few years, my (then) wife and I had two more boys, who I tried to treat exactly the same as my first. As of this writing, they are all in their twenties and they’ve all turned out to be good and kind young men. They’re generous, quick to offer help or empathy, and they all live reasonably happy and productive lives. I’m proud of them all.

But I do miss having little kids.

Writing Prompt #7: What is your favorite way to spend a lazy day?

Lazy days are nice, but like everything else money dictates the way people spend them. We live in a world that has been thoroughly monetized, so it’s hard to step out the front door without feeling like I’m suddenly hemorrhaging money. (But that’s a topic for another day.)

If money weren’t an object, I’d like to go someplace different, not necessarily someplace exotic, but someplace different from my day-to-day where I could maybe sit out next to a hotel pool and read a book. Or maybe I’d like to go somewhere I can go to plays or shows or concerts. Las Vegas sounds nice in that regard; I’m not much of a gambler, but I’ve always wanted to visit Las Vegas as an adult so I could see some of the shows. I just looked, and it seems that Penn & Teller still perform regular shows in Las Vegas.

I saw them once at the La Jolla Playhouse what feels like a lifetime ago, but before that I had seen them in an appearance on Babylon 5, where they portrayed a fictional comedy duo named Rebo and Zooty. They made such an impression on me that when I found out they’d be performing a live show near where we were living in San Diego, my (then) wife and I ran out and bought tickets. As it turned out, their comedy bits (which were very funny) took a backseat to their magic act (which was very good). I’ve seen my share of magicians in my time and never been terribly impressed until I saw Penn & Teller. Seeing them again is one of the items on my bucket list.

As far as lazy days go, I’ve actually spent a few just going through my comic book collection (when it wasn’t all digital), organizing them and changing plastic bags and backboards. There’s something very satisfying about just immersing myself in a big project like that, where I can satisfy my mind need for order. I don’t have any physical comics anymore, but that might be a good argument in favor of starting my collection again.

Writing Prompt #8: Come up with a mathematical formula to express something you know/believe. (Example: Long Saturday run + Frappuccino = Happiness.)

Logic + values = wisdom

“Logic, logic, logic . . . logic is the beginning of wisdom, Valeris, not the end.”

-Spock

Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991)

I’ve long argued that logic does not exist in a void. There is no such thing as pure, objective logic. Logic has to start somewhere.

In scientific fields, that starting point is relatively easy. Logic begins with observations. Sir Isaac Newton studies Johannes Kepler’s laws of planetary motion and used logic to deduce that those same laws must apply to the Moon’s orbit around the Earth and also to all objects on the Earth, such as the (possibly apocryphal) apple that fell from the tree. Jean-Francois Champollion used logic to compare the Greek text on the Rosetta Stone to the Egyptian hieroglyphics on the same stone to decipher the ancient Egyptians’ written language. Logic is a method of drawing conclusions from observations, but it always needs something to start with.

Spock’s statement at the top of the page has its roots in a Biblical passage, Proverbs 9:10, which states “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,” but its use in Star Trek VI is in many ways the opposite of its use in the Bible. The passage in Proverbs calls the reader to look to the Lord, first and foremost, for knowledge. However, in the context of the film, Spock’s use of the phrase is an admonishment to his protégé, Valeris, to regard logic as only the beginning of the path to wisdom, and to look beyond logic for further enlightenment.

Logic does not exist in a void.

Logic springs forth from observations in the scientific world, but in terms of a society, logic springs forth from values. Every society, consciously or not, makes decisions about what it values and holds dear. Every society is based on a set of beliefs, sometimes religious in nature and sometimes now.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed . . .”

-Thomas Jefferson

The Declaration of Independence (1776)

This was how Thomas Jefferson, on behalf of the brand-new United States, answered one of the most important questions of anyone’s life: “Who are you?”

The answer to that question is what we base our logic on. What we believe and what we value sets us to reach logical conclusions, but those conclusions can be wildly different from one person to the next depending on how they answer that question. There is no such thing as pure, perfect logic because there is no such thing as a pure, perfect person. That’s why it’s so important to think carefully about the decisions we make and the conclusions we reach; it’s vitally important that we reach them based on the values that are truly important to us.

The Horror of War

“There’s only one truth about war: people die.” 

 -Richard Brinsley Sheridan

 

“Because it's not a game, Kate. This is a scale model of war. Every war ever fought right there in front of you. Because it's always the same. When you fire that first shot, no matter how right you feel, you have no idea who's going to die. You don't know whose children are going to scream and burn. How many hearts will be broken! How many lives shattered! How much blood will spill until everybody does what they're always going to have to do from the very beginning -- sit down and talk!”

-Peter Harness & Steven Moffat

Today is the day the United States attacked Iran and set off a series of retaliatory strikes around the region. It’s still too early have any kind of reliable figure for casualties, but there are reports of both military and civilian targets being hit on both sides. The final numbers will be in the hundreds, at least. And it’s not likely to end with today.

I don’t have a whole lot to say on the subject other than I can’t imagine how we even got here. Again. Just like Iraq in 2003, there was no clear and present danger, no need for immediate, aggressive action. There was no need for anyone to die. No, it seems clear to anyone observing that the true purpose of this is to redirect attention from an ongoing scandal at home that the administration wants to go away. And so we’re at war. Criticism of our leaders will, of course, be discouraged “in this time of emergency”. Domestic inquiries will be put on the back burner. Attention will be redirected with the expectation that everyone rally around a common cause.

And I’m left wondering how we keep falling for the same trick over and over again.