Category Archives: Rants

Things might get a bit heated here. It’s probably a good idea to take these discussions with a grain of salt.

Science Is Right, You Are Wrong

I pride myself on being fairly level-headed and rational. I really do. But every once in a while I’ll come across something that is just so very wrong that I can’t help myself. Whenever that happens, another iota of my innocence and faith in humanity shrivels up and dies.

Recently, I was involved in a discussion online about science and religion. Someone was trying to make the point that science requires just as much faith as religion. This is wrong, as the findings of science are true regardless of whether or not one believes in them. In fact, faith, by definition, requires the lack of proof.

But that’s a post in and of itself. What struck me the most about this conversation was the sheer ignorance on display in regards to basic scientific concepts. For instance: scientific theory. For most lay people, a theory is an idea of how things work that may or may not be true. But for a scientist, nothing could be farther from the truth. A scientific theory is “a comprehensive explanation of some aspect of nature that is supported by a vast body of evidence” (according to the National Academy of Sciences). After all, gravity is “only a theory.” Evolution is “only a theory.” But you don’t see people worrying about falling up into the sky when the go outside, do you?

Which brings me to another point: this person had such a poor understanding of science and evolution, I wasn’t sure where to even start. Most of these comments came in response to this article, and I’d like to take a bit of space to attempt to respond to them here. Plus, since this is my blog after all, I feel less of an urge to be properly diplomatic. Passionate arguments ahead!

1. The Universal Genetic Code: Could this not also be evidence of a single designer? I mean, the spark plugs from one type of car often work in an entirely different type of car. This doesn’t mean they both evolved from a skateboard.

This shows a staggering ignorance of how evolution actually works. Modern organisms did not evolve from other modern organisms; they both diverged from a common ancestor many years ago.

2. The Fossil Record: The fossil record proves nothing. Fossils prove nothing. When we find a fossilized skeleton, all we know is that something died there. We cannot conclusively prove that the organism had any offspring or that the offspring eventually turned into an entirely different form of organism. Furthermore, the fossil record and the geologic column are an exercise in circular reasoning: they use the fossils to date the rocks and the rocks to date the fossils. Given that kind of criteria, how can we know that what we’re looking at when we look at the fossil record is in any way chronological?

This is the one that had me figuratively frothing at the mouth. Clearly this person could not be reasoned with or engaged in anything resembling rational debate. But let’s attempt some refutation anyway. Here we see an example of the “you weren’t there, so you can’t know” fallacy. That’s the beauty of science: it lets us make models of less observable phenomena through more observable ones. There are also many ways of estimating the dates of the fossil record that don’t rely on relative observations. Also, individuals don’t evolve; populations do.

Oh, and you know what makes a better example in circular reasoning? The Bible: “The Bible is true because it says it is true.”

3. Genetic Commonalities: Francis Collins, the head of the human genome project wrote, “This evidence alone does not, of course, prove a common ancestor.” So…

The fact that we have eyes, mice have eyes, frogs have eyes, dinosaurs had eyes, and whales have eyes in no way proves that we all came from inanimate slime on a rock somewhere. Again, similarities in function might just as easily suggest a common designer as opposed to a common ancestor.

The beliefs of one individual do not necessarily reflect the overarching scientific consensus. In fact, there was quite a bit of concern in the scientific community regarding Collins’ tenure as Director of the National Institutes of Health. So… what?

Genetic commonalities go much further than lots of organisms having eyes. It is a provable scientific fact that we share large percentages of our genome with other species. This is NOT about similarities in function, this is about identical portions of DNA that are present across related organisms.

Besides, you weren’t there, so how can you KNOW dinosaurs had eyes?!? </sarcasm>

4. Common Traits in Embryos: Haeckl confessed and was found guilty of fraud more than 100 years ago now and still the “biogenetic law” persists. Ontogeny does not repeat phylogeny.

So this may not be the best example, I will admit, as it can be easily refuted. But as quoted from Wikipedia, “embryos do undergo a period where their morphology is strongly shaped by their phylogenetic position, rather than selective pressures.” The next statements are more interesting, anyway.

5. Bacterial Resistance to Antibiotics: Variation within a bacterial kind in no way proves that the bacteria is forming into some kind of new organism. Mutation and natural selection only lead to losses of genetic information and changes in subsequent generations of organisms because of genetic information already present is demonstrably not macro-evolution. For evolution to occur, new information must be introduced and this has never been observed.

First of all, kind? What the heck is a “kind?” If it’s being used in the biblical sense, then hoo boy are you under-informed. First of all, mutation and natural selection do not “always lead to losses of genetic information.” There are many ways mutation can occur, from transcription errors resulting in the modification or duplication of a gene, to random fluctuation caused by exposure to radiation. Secondly, the only difference between “macro-evolution” and what I’m guessing you’d call “micro-evolution” is the time scale. Macroevolution is merely microevolution on a geologically compounded scale.

Also, your assertion that the introduction of new information has never been observed is false. I would point you in the direction of this experiment, where an isolated population of E. coli bacteria evolved the ability to digest citric acid.

Despite all the times you said, “We don’t know” you still arrive at the conclusion that evolution “is a fact”. This, if I may be so bold, constitutes faith. You are believing in the reliability of something you yourself admit you cannot empirically know. Hence, why religious people who may not subscribe to the so-called absolute authority of science are quick to point out that the naturalists among us are just as faith-based as the rest of us (to answer ____’s point earlier.) This is not a bad thing, but it levels the playing field a bit in regards to all the claims we throw at each other.

Faith: strong or unshakeable belief in something, esp. without proof or evidence; belief that is not based on proof (dictionary.com); firm belief in something for which there is no proof (Merriam-Webster).

By its definition faith precludes proof. When we say “we don’t know,” we mean that it is impossible to know anything with 100% certainty. That being said, however, we can know something in such detail that we reduce the uncertainty to a functionally negligible amount. That’s the thing about science: it lets us make objective predictions based on things we can observe to help explain the unknown or unobservable. Those of us who have “subscribe[d] to the so-called absolute authority of science” have generally done so after observing the evidence available to us, thinking critically about it, and trying to fit it into existing paradigms. If it fits, great! If not, then the paradigm needs to change. Faith, on the other hand, is required due to the lack of evidence and is preserved through ignorance.

And, to add one more observation: even if the modes of abiogenesis were reproduced in a lab, it still doesn’t prove that abiogenesis is how life came to be (a 1 in more than 10-to-the-80,000th-power of a chance, I’m given to understand). If we were to somehow reproduce evolution in a lab and demonstrate how the event might have occurred in the past, this experiment would in no way prove if, in fact, the event did actually occur in history. Proving that it could happen does not prove that it did. And furthermore, aren’t we also simply proving that if evolution were to occur, it would require an intelligent agent to drive it? When it comes to the science of origins, then, I maintain that all the science in the world will never be sufficient to definitively tell us exactly what took place. It is simply beyond the bounds of science’s abilities to demonstrate. The entire realm of origins is one positioned squarely in the arena of faith: and, contrary to what some of us here seem to believe, faith is not by definition blind or uniformed.

So what you’re saying is you won’t accept proof that doesn’t fit your already-held beliefs if/when it becomes available. This is more of the “You weren’t there, thus can’t know” tripe. Clearly no body of knowledge can shake your faith. At least science is capable of admitting when it’s wrong.

You mention the astronomical chances of abiogenesis; do you realize how likely that still makes it? The scale of the universe, both temporal and spatial, is beyond anything humans are used to fathoming. I’d be curious to see where your 1-in-1080,000 figure came from, by the way. It seems like you’re throwing big numbers out in an attempt to overwhelm.

* * *

So there you have it: my response that I deemed too catty and impolitic to post anywhere but my personal blog. It also marks the introduction of an image that, much like the Drama Llama, may make additional appearances (for better or worse):

The Stupid, It Burns by Plognark

by Plognark

Also, watch Cosmos.

*steps off soapbox*

Revising Expectations

It’s funny how your goals change.

When I finished my Master’s degree in 2012, I was excited. I had finally stuck with an educational goal from start to finish, something that I felt I had been lacking since changing majors in undergrad. I was ready to go out into the world and find a job in the industry, using the specialized knowledge I had earned through no small investment of time and money. Looking into the future, I figured I could be a licensed architect by the time I was 30.

These days, I’d be just as happy if I managed to escape my dead-end retail job by that age.

Yes, it’s going to be one of those posts. I’ll try not to come off as too “poor me,” but the development of my pragmatism has not been an easy one for me. Sure, no plan survives contact with reality; but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

I have always been fairly idealistic. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. I tend to believe that things will work out alright in the end. By viewing the world through this lens, I often project simple, pure motives onto people and things. After all, it wouldn’t cross my mind to be duplicitous, so why should it cross someone else’s?

Reality, of course, often has different ideas. People can be more dishonest or manipulative than I give them credit for. Sometimes the vagaries of random chance leave you holding the short end of the stick, through no fault of your own. For someone who grasps for the basic good of things, these facts can be hard to internalize. After all, when something goes wrong, is it due to the aforementioned random chance or through some mistake you made? If someone complains about something you did or said, are they looking to merely create drama, or did you commit some major social faux-pas?

But I digress. Let’s get back to expectations.

Throughout the years, I have tried to be better about lowering my expectations. Far too often I’ve had my lofty plans, my hopes and dreams, dashed upon the harsh, unyielding rocks of reality. This inevitably begins to take its toll: the closer you fly to the sun, the further and harder you will fall. I’m starting to realize that high expectations, more often that not, merely set me up for disappointment. That’s not to say that I’m always doom-and-gloom about everything, or that I don’t enjoy things in life. I still hope, I just try to keep it tempered by a certain amount of realism.

Maybe this is just part of growing up. Maybe this is what it feels like to have the last vestiges of chilhood innocence depart. It’s not a good feeling, let me tell you. But I can’t help but hope (heh) that it is for the best, in the long run. Maybe a certain level of psychological resilience is needed to survive in our world, like a callous that protect’s a worker’s hands from the tools of their trade.

Where am I going with this? I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me looking at my life and not seeing what I expected to. Maybe it’s me feeling trapped in a job that steals my social time and joie-de-vie from me. Maybe it’s me just feeling particularly sleep-deprived and maudlin. Maybe it’s me having an epiphany. I don’t know. I’m not sure where I expected this entry to go when I started it. But maybe that’s the point I’m trying to make: by keeping your expectations low (or loosely defined), you have a greater chance of meeting them. See? I can do hopeful and uplifting, kinda…

Retail still sucks, though.

Well Don’t I Feel Like A Right Twit

Something came up after last week’s fencing practice that is still bothering me. I’m going to try and talk about this as politely as possible, without mentioning names and such. Everyone involved had valid points, but I’m going to try to give my perspective.

Apparently someone was in town visiting for the week, and was able to make it out to fencing practice. While there, they were apparently largely ignored by the other fencers there, and thus made to feel unwelcome. And the sad part is, I can see where they were coming from with their complaints, and don’t really have anything to say to make it better. I too have been in a situation where I felt like an outsider, and it can be terrifying to stay there, let alone approach and attempt to integrate into what may already seem like a well-knit group.

However…

While it won’t erase past events, I’d like to try to give some perspective from the other side, that of the “hardcore regular” crowd. A lot of us are ourselves painfully shy; we have issues approaching unfamiliar people at the best of times, and that practice night was not the best of times. I know I myself wasn’t feeling that excited to be there, as were a few others. It was the first practice after a whirlwind week of war after event after war for a lot of people, so attendance was low, and the people there were likely already exhausted. As such, I imagine a lot of us (at least myself) just wanted a relatively low-key night to see and catch up with friends. I had had a busy and tiring day at work, which only exacerbated my malaise. I ended up only fighting one person that night, but otherwise had a good time talking with people.

It also really bothered me that people who weren’t even there commented on how there was “no excuse” for lack of courtesy. To me it felt dismissive of one side, not even considering that there might have been extrenuating circumstances. Now don’t get me wrong: I’m am NOT trying to imply in any way that the original person’s comments or feelings were not valid. I guess what bothers me most is they very well might be right on the money.

The group of people I hang out with have in the past had a reputation for being standoffish, so issues like this are a bit sensitive. Could we have been more welcoming? Yes, probably. But as a group of largely introverts, that can be tough for us on the best of days. And last practice was defintely not that. It makes me sad that I might have in any way contributed to someone feeling left out; being something of a social outcast myself, I know that pain all too well.

I know (or at least hope) the comments about that practice weren’t directed at me personally. But I can’t help but take them slightly personally, as I’m sure there was something I could have done at the time to make it better. And if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s beating myself up over “I should have…” But it sounds like it ended up a perfect storm of neglect, awkwardness, and not feeling social.

Oh well.

EDIT: I just realized I went through all that without apologizing about my role in the incident.  Anyway, I’m sorry.  I truly am.

Windmills On The Web

The Internet is really, really great. There’s tons of interesting stuff out there. I love to read what people have to say. I even (very) occasionally say some things of my own. But I’m primarily a lurker. I like to see what people have to say, and the conversations, both civil and otherwise, those comments can elicit. Besides, I hate arguing on the Internet.

And yet…

And yet, every once in a while I just can’t help myself and have to chime in. Now, I will admit that there are certain advantages to debating (if we’re being generous) and arguing (if we’re being cynical) online versus in person. The biggest one for me is that I can generally take my time, formulating points and supporting evidence with a thoroughness that can’t be matched when put on the spot. Plus, the interconnectedness of things online lets one easily cite sources and provide further reading.

Of course, one tends to lose some of the subtleties of face-to-face communication in a text-based medium. So I try to compensate by using what advantages writing gives to my fullest. I’ll think my words through carefully, finding links and references to support my points. I try to be clear, calm, and logical as much as I can.

The problem comes when the other side doesn’t feel like doing the same.

But I try. I try to stay civil. I try to frame my responses in ways that respond to the points the other person makes, not them personally. I try to look at their sources and references objectively, on their own merits. I ask for clarification, giving them a chance to elaborate on their point in case I’ve misconstrued something that was merely poorly stated. I really do try…

But sometimes, the stupid just burns too much.

Part of that seems to be people’s tendency towards brevity when it comes to online communication when it comes to commenting. It can be really hard to make a carefully worded, nuanced point in a paragraph or two, especially on something as ephemeral as Facebook. Generally, I avoid such attempts at conversation for just that reason. But like I said, every once in a while I wade in, some small part of me convinced that this time it’d be different. That this time I’ll be able to have a good debate, or make my point in such a way that they come to see the error of their ways.

But of course, I am inevitably disappointed.

I don’t know why I bother. I know I should just let it go, but once I put my two cents in I feel obligated to defend my point. Thus begins a cycle of research, writing, revision, and posting. But that can only go on for so long before I start to feel myself being dragged down to my opponent’s level. In theory I know that no one is going to convince someone to change truly deep-seated beliefs with logic and supporting evidence.

But I keep trying.

Master of None

So I spent some time looking at job listings the other day. You know what that means? That’s right, it’s time for another rant! This time, let’s talk about feeling underqualified.

Now, I like to think that I have a wide variety of skills. I can write relatively well. I have a “knack” when it comes to basic tech support. I’m a martial artist. I speak French. I can teach. I’ve gone to school, for both foreign language and architecture. I’ve lived in a foreign country. But none of that seems to matter when I’m faced with the “Minimum & Recommended Qualifications” of a job listing.

There’s the basics, of course. 3-5 years for what is ostensibly an entry-level position? I’ve pretty much gotten used to seeing that. What gets me is the ones that are phrased in such a way that my breadth of experience seems woefully lacking in depth. And I guess that could be true, to a point: I’ve done such a variety of things I haven’t really concentrated on one or two skills as deeply as I might have.

But now I’m starting to wonder if I should have.

I mean, come on. I’m almost thirty, and I don’t have anything resembling a stable career. Popular culture tells us that we’re supposed to have it “all figured out” by a certain point, and I’m not sure I’ve met that (admittedly arbitrary) target. Sure, I’ve done a lot of stuff. But how does knowing how to find out the answer help me when a recruiter wants proof of competency via a fancy piece of paper that says “DEGREE” on it?

So what am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to keep looking for employment in a system that doesn’t want me because I don’t have the right initials after my name? Or do I somehow magically assemble my eclectic skill set into some sort of unique career that I, as a special snowflake, can create for myself? You know, that thing that no one was taught to do.

*sighs*

I’m not expecting answers to these questions. I’m not expecting a “get rich quick” scheme to tumble out of the heavens and land in my lap. I just want to vent about how, at my low points, I’m starting to wonder if I didn’t screw something up along the way.

Jack of all trades: it seemed a good idea at the time. Now I’m not so sure.

Shot In The Dark

How is one supposed to search for a job?

Job hunting is certainly a weird skill. It’s one that’s never really taught outside a specifically-structured course or seminar. Most of the time, things are going well and you don’t need it. In fact, most people actively hope they won’t need it. As such, it’s not uncommon to not really keep up or practice. So when we do need it, whatever competence we had in it is atrophied beyond recognition.

This means that a lot of people are floundering, directionless, when it comes to looking for a job. A common response at this point is to go back to the basics: trial and error. Try something, see if it works. If it does: great! You did something right (or got wicked lucky)! If it doesn’t: too bad. Change something and try again.

But what do you change? Far too often there is a complete lack of feedback about why you did or didn’t get a job. For all you know, you could be making the same mistake over and over with multiple applications and have absolutely no idea why you aren’t getting callbacks. Are you underqualified? Are you overqualified (don’t get me started on that gem)? Did you forget to put your phone number on your resume? Was the hiring person offended by your choice of font and/or color (or lack thereof) in your cover letter? Did they see a picture of you, ended up being reminded about an ex-lover, and squashed you without a second thought? You have no idea.

So you keep searching, hoping you’re doing something right. But seeing as you haven’t gotten any bites, mustn’t you be doing something wrong? It can’t just be random chance, right?

Right?

But what if it is random chance? What if it’s the same for getting a job as not getting one? Are you just as well off continuing your current approach, hoping that by sheer coincidence the perfect storm of factors will align to work in your favor? Should you start sacrificing squirrels to Eris?

These are thoughts that have been going through my mind lately. At this point I’m feeling at a lost regarding how to get out of my current job situation. I know it involves applying to other jobs, but the lack of feedback of any sort is extremely discouraging. Am I doing well? Am I failing? Who knows! I might as well be laying out my resumes on a craps table in Las Vegas.

And no, I haven’t heard back from any of the recent applications I sent out.

Blargh.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!1!!11!!!ONE!!

This here is my Drama Llama. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

Purposefully Unpurposed

Growing up, I was often told that I was “meant for great things,” or that I “had a great purpose set out” for me. I was told that I was special, that I was unique. That somewhere in my future there was a BIG THING™ somewhere in my future that would validate my existence and make me feel fulfilled.

I’m not sure that’s really the case.

Continue reading →

I Want To Break Free

The dark voices inside my head were clamoring especially loudly this morning. You may know these voices. They’re the ones that say things like:

“Maybe you are just lazy.”

“You wouldn’t be in this situation if you just tried harder.”

“If you’re miserable, you must have done something wrong.”

“You screwed up, and there’s no way to fix it.”

“You suck.”

In other words, all sorts of friendly, constructive things designed to encourage self-love and healthy worldviews.

I’ve made efforts to quiet these voices, but every once in a while they crop back up. Even when they’re not screaming at me, they’re all too often murmuring in the background, a never-ending susurration of bile and self-pity. But where do these voices come from? It’s different in everyone’s case, but I would think there are some common threads, ones that most likely involve unhealthy internalized philosophies.

I was not raised in a traditionally religious household. My family was originally Catholic, and I got as far as my First Communion before they moved on. After that, it wasn’t uncommon for us to refer to ourselves as “spiritual but not religious.” a moniker I used myself for some time. The kind of New Age spirituality that proposed positive thinking as a panacea and focused on the “energetic” nature of things.

In case you couldn’t tell, I don’t exactly subscribe to these ideas any more. But somehow I still find my life shaped by them, in ways that often blindside me. I must have been exposed to them at just the right age that they settled deep within my subconscious, and have since resisted determined (and not-so-determined) efforts to remove them.

Let me give you an example: I must have been in third or fourth grade, and my family was still going to Catholic church. Something must have been said to me at Sunday school that day (I don’t remember what), but it literally put the fear of Hell into me. I couldn’t sleep that night; every time I closed my eyes I was faced with lakes of fire and brimstone where I was convinced I would spend the rest of eternity for the most minor of transgressions.

Once my family changed faiths (which is really what it amounted to, in the end), that guilt stayed with me. But this time, it wasn’t because of something I had done, it was because of something I hadn’t done. “In a bad situation? Well, just think positive! Put your intentions out to the universe! Didn’t work? Well, you must have just not been trying hard enough! Everything happens for a reason!”

Telling a teenager/young adult who might be starting to struggle with undiagnosed depression to just “think more positiver” isn’t exactly the most helpful advice.

But somehow I still managed to internalize some of these ideas. One sometimes jokingly refers to “drinking the Kool-Aid” in reference to taking odd, outside-the-norm ideas to heart; it’s not so much that I drank the Kool-Aid, it’s more that I was exposed to it in an aerosolized form, absorbing it more through osmosis than anything else.

And I think that’s where some of my dark voices come from: the internalized, however unwillingly, teachings of my youth. And because we’re exposed to them so young, it can be hard to excise them later in life. They get laid into the foundation of our personality, literally shaping how we view the world. They are, in effect, already inside our defensive perimeter.

How can I get rid of them? I don’t know. In all likelihood, they’re a big enough part of my personality that I may never be rid of them. At this point, the most I can do is to try and quiet the voices of doubt and guilt, keeping them at bay.

But in the dead of the night, when you’re alone with nothing but the darkness inside and the darkness without, it’s hard.

“I Don’t Know”

That simple phrase, that answer to so many questions, has been the bane of my existence since I was a child.

“I don’t know.”

I’ve talked before about how I don’t like making decisions, but this goes beyond that. When I was a kid, I was chastised for answering a question (ANY question) with “I don’t know.” Admittedly, sometimes that phrase was used to deflect responsibility for making a decision. But there were also times when it was used to stall for time: “I don’t know… let me think about it.” Of course, without the second part, both uses sound the same.

Even as an adult I can’t escape the shame of “I don’t know.” It’s even more maddening when I use it in cases that I TRULY DO NOT KNOW the answer, usually to big questions like “What do you want to do with your life?”

What do I want to do with my life? You know what? I’m not sure! In fact, I’m not even sure that one needs to “do” ANYTHING with their life! Can’t the beauty of the unknown be enough for some people? Do we need to compartmentalize everything into nice plans and purposes? Can’t you just accept that I, like so many people of my generation, are coming to the realization that life may not have an inherent purpose or meaning?

Look, I’ve thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life. When I graduated high school, I KNEW I wanted to be an astrobiologist. I even had it all planned out: what classes I would take, where I would go to grad school, et cetera. That plan came crashing down after my overloaded first quarter. Later, I thought I wanted to be an architect. I was still skittish, of course, given my previous experience, but I stuck with it and got my Masters. Then the global economy tanked, and I ended up having to compete for entry-level internships against people with 10 years’ working experience. Is there any wonder I ended up in retail? Is there any wonder I’m even more skittish about giving up what stability I have to “chase a dream?”

In fact, I even challenge the assumption that people need to find “their purpose,” the career that’s perfect for them and fulfills all their earthly and psychological needs. At this point, I don’t know if there’s anything I’m passionate enough about to devote my life to it, and the things in the running are really hard to make a living with. No one wants to pay me to play video games and read all day, or spend my weekends dressing in medieval clothes and hitting my friends with sticks.

So what do I want to do with my life? I don’t know.

Thanks for asking. Let’s move on.