Monday color 31

assassin bug Zelus luridus on pink azalea blossomLooking at how the day is shaping up out there, it seems like this is a pink kind of day, so this image has been specially chosen to fit in with the conditions.

[Which is nonsense. I set up the Monday color posts usually several days in advance, and they’re scheduled to post at 2 AM. I have no idea what Monday is going to bring as I’m typing this.]

Zelus luridus is a fairly common little green assassin bug, and they loved the azalea bushes at the old place – actually, everything loved the azalea bushes. But it was simply a matter of time and patience before I would capture their bright green bodies against the vivid pink of the flowers, despite the fact that they were standing out about as much as any insect could. But c’mon, look at the size of that braincase – we’re not talking geniuses here…

So what do you think? Do you suppose I should have cropped a little tighter on the top right and gotten that tiny splash of green out of there? Did you even notice it? I wonder about these factors sometimes.

Quick! Go here before midnight!

If you were paying close attention, you might have noticed that I have a tendency to post religion-bashing stuff on Sundays, because I’m perverse – we atheists are mean that way. I wasn’t really planning anything of the sort, and have been working on site updates today, but Professor Ceiling Cat has a fun post over at Why Evolution Is True, and you should check it out. Quick, while it’s still Sunday! I might even appear in the comments myself, eventually, to address a couple of points that I haven’t seen anyone else tackle yet.

Basic explanation: after a guest post by Ben Goren elaborating on the problems with theodicy, a commenter by the nym of “Nixak” provided a lengthy response enumerated in six major points. For a brief observation just to include something more than a link, this is yet another example of someone’s personal interpretation being forwarded as if it was orthodoxy. One of the points, believe it or not, is that god does not respond to prayers unless his proper name is used, which apparently not enough people know. I admit, this is the first I’ve heard any argument of this nature outside of comic books – what if you say it backwards? How about three times? I have so many questions…

Anyway, for now, see how well the commenters are handling the points therein. I’ll be back shortly.

Just some casual shooting

monochrome cumulus clouds against branches crepuscualr rays
sun breaking through cloud edgesYes, it’s still been a slow couple of weeks, and I’ve been working on some other projects, so the photography is leaner. Hopefully this is not yet the start of the downward trend that autumn brings.

While out at the nearby pond yesterday, distant rumbles and the evidence of some towering thunderheads carried the threat of a storm, but it failed to actually hit here so I took advantage of the dramatic cloud formations to do a little sky photography. At top, the sun peering past the edge of the cumulus clouds provided both a high-contrast composition and some faint crepuscular rays through the humid haze. When I noticed this, it was half-hidden behind the tree canopy that bordered the pond, so I dodged back and forth a bit until I could line up the clouds with a complementary gap in the trees. I played around with the color channels, but in the end simply converted to greyscale and tweaked the contrast just a tad higher. The one at left, though, needed the odd colors produced by the thin edges. There are electrical wires in the bottom of the original frame, cropped out here – I really hate electrical wires.

The weather might still have been the after-effects of Tropical Storm Erika, which brought some much-needed rain several days back and dropped the temperatures a bit. Not too long after those rains, while things were still dripping, I was poking around and spotted a tiny crab spider lurking in the blossom of a buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis) – the pollinators that I usually see raiding these flowers are many times the size of this spider, so I suspect it was either enthusiastically optimistic or simply biding its time until the right-sized meal came along.

crab spider lurking in buttonbush Cephalanthus occidentalis flower
The adhering drops that can be seen with a close examination may give some indication of size, but another shot may help, especially when I tell you that the blossoms are typically the size of a golf ball, and frequented by bumblebees and swallowtail butterflies. This spider, legs spread as wide as it could reach, couldn’t even span the eyes of a bumblebee, so, yeah…

crab spider on buttonbush Cephalanthus occidentalis blossom
great egret Ardea alba peering past foliageThe storm may also have been responsible for the presence of a great egret (Ardea alba) at the pond these past few days, having been driven out of its normal range by the winds. I was used to seeing them in Florida all over, and along the NC coast, but haven’t seen one in this area in a long time. I’m not sure what the resident great blue heron thinks about this newcomer – it’s been the sole big wader for the entire pond, though I have spotted smaller ones for only a day or so – but the pond is big enough to support them both, and the green herons and others. We’ll just have to see if this one decides to stick around. It seems less wary than the great blue – this image was acquired with some very basic stalking – so if it remains for a bit, I might be able to do a more rounded gallery of images.

unidentified grasshopper locust in foliageI can’t say if the storms had the slightest to do with these, all I can say is that abruptly, several individuals of this unidentified grasshopper could be found with little effort, when I have been seeing virtually nothing of the sort in the area before. These are big enough to be called ‘locusts,’ better than 5cm in overall body length, and while capable of doing a lot of plant damage, I suspect they won’t last long against the large number of birds and the nearby black-and-yellow argiopes (which have been chowing down on dragonflies and cicadas, and would probably relish the change of diet.)

crab spider on white flowering vineI close with another crab spider, even smaller than the previous, remaining inconspicuous on the underside of a delicate white flower – I haven’t pinned this down for sure, but the flowering vine might be virgin’s bower (Clematis virginiana.) I’m going to have to confirm this because it produces a lot of flowers that we could use around the yard, and thus attract more insects and perhaps hummingbirds. Granted, bigger flowers are more likely to attract the kind of spiders I’d really like to see, but this would be a start, anyway.

Like Flames

It’s been a little while since we’ve had a musical break, and this seems like a good candidate. As I said, my music tastes are unabashedly mired in the 1980s, with the occasional contemporary popping up here and there (Coldplay will probably be along at some point or another,) and so we ride the wayback tortoise to 1987 to check out Berlin’s Like Flames.

Berlin and lead vocalist Terri Nunn got too little attention, as far as I’m concerned. They’re best known for Take My Breath Away, the love theme from the movie Top Gun and quite possibly the only thing to recommend it (I wouldn’t know – I stopped watching after ten minutes of exasperation.) However, that single was not representative of their energy or style, and other releases like No More Words and The Metro give a much better feel for the group. And naturally, this one. Nunn has a marvelous voice, ranging from pleasantly dulcet to a throaty wail, and can rip a lot of feeling out of her lyrics. The video is a product of the 80s as well, so just keep that in mind – they were pretty much all like this.

The lyrics, by the way, can be found here. Since every source presents the same spelling of weak/week, I have to assume they’re that way right from the album, but whether this was intentional or not is up for grabs.

An interesting bit of trivia regarding Terri Nunn is that she auditioned for the role of Princess Leia in Star Wars, which might have been an interesting casting choice (I never quite got behind Carrie Fisher in that part, though I’ve liked her in other roles and appreciate her satirical contributions since.) Nunn, however, might’ve been a bit young for the part, considering that the movie was released ten years before the video shown above.

The band broke up not long after this track was released, so there are too few examples of their work available. If you liked this one, you might try No More Words, The Metro, and Masquerade, all great examples of Berlin’s music. However, Like Flames was later covered by the group Twenty 4 Seven; under no circumstances should you attempt to listen to that version.

Making change

One of the most confusing things to attempt is self-evaluation. It might be easy to think that if there’s one person we’re intimately familiar with, it’s ourselves, but when it comes down to it, we realize how hard objectivity is in such situations. Ego is such a loud voice in our minds, it’s hard to hear the little things which might be much more accurate.

Thus, I cannot honestly say how much of these changes I can take credit for, and how much might have come from outside sources that I have subconsciously discounted, but here it is anyway. There are two major changes in attitude that I have undergone recently, and overall, I credit them to my embrace of critical thinking. If this seems dramatic, it’s because of the recognition that changing one’s mind is sometimes hard, especially when it comes to values and ideologies, or anything that we have a strong opinion of, really. Admitting that we were wrong is difficult enough, but more, I have strong suspicions that we have an inherent function within our minds that promotes a firm stance, avoiding indecision and delays; we like to make our minds up once, and then consider this was adequate thereafter. We all know people that are unbelievably stubborn, and it probably has a lot to do with both of these traits. But don’t ask me where I fall on the spectrum myself.

The first item is space exploration. I was born in the mid-sixties, and grew up in the heyday of the space program, following it avidly. I had the toys, and later the model kits, and in fact there is an unbuilt Apollo upper stages kit, dating from 1971, waiting for me to tackle it in the other room right now. When I lived in Florida, I was only 50 klicks from Cape Canaveral, and local cable TV had a NASA channel which would show live launches and operations, and when things were slow, film clips taken from the ISS as it orbited, a very pleasant visual to unwind with. Unsurprisingly I suppose, I also grew up with National Geographic and Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, so exploration is rooted rather deeply within me. However, I suspect it’s rooted deeply in everyone, because we as a species have very strong tendencies to explore, and this is possibly a survival trait that brought us through numerous climate and environmental changes, the same kind that may have hastened the extinction of other species that were ill-equipped to handle the new conditions and had no drive to find other, compatible habitats. This is only speculation – it would be very hard to prove what influenced us thousands to millions of years ago – but the drive to explore is undeniable.

While the examples seemed to have lessened a bit now, there are still plenty of people saying that our future is in space; mankind’s destiny is to expand outward, colonizing other planets, and no small number of people are wondering whatever happened to the moonbases we were promised by this time. If there’s one message that is virtually unchanging, it’s that we will eventually exhaust our resources here on Earth and have to seek more opportunities off planet. And up until only a few years ago, I was right there with them.

But here’s the first factor: space is incredibly, undeniably hostile to us. Those space suits aren’t that bulky for fashion’s sake. Space lacks everything that we need to survive, save for the sun’s radiation, and of that it has too much. No planet within reach has any of the conditions we need, nor could they be added or created without an astounding amount of effort, and even then it would be in little bubbles rather than anything even the size of a small town.

That bit about “within reach” is key, because that’s factor two: getting around inside our solar system takes a lot of energy and time; this is multiplied by thousands to millions when we consider outside of it. Even with theoretical energy sources, traveling to another star system would take many decades, but probably a lot more like centuries. This is where all of the science fiction regarding putting travelers in stasis, or having massive city ships, comes from, as well as all the stuff about wormholes and extra-dimensional space and so on.

Quite a few people would argue that these are hurdles we will overcome eventually – we humans can do a lot if we put our minds to it. We will figure out how to create a small self-sufficient system with lean resources, how to limit population growth on century-ships, and even how to cope with bone-density degradation through weightlessness and not going stir-crazy in a small ship. But the funny thing is, if we solve the first set of problems, we don’t even need to tackle the second, because we won’t need to expand to the stars anyway. The planet we have right here is perfect for us, because we evolved on it, and it’d be a damn sight easier to keep in in working order than to try and recreate it elsewhere when it’s broken. This “can do” attitude is wielded with abandon when it comes to traversing space, but somehow not when it comes to staying home. Interesting, isn’t it?

Don’t get me wrong – I think space exploration is a worthwhile pursuit, and a moon colony would boost this commensurately. But I can no longer consider the idea of humans expanding outward to other planets and/or systems to be even slightly plausible, and I think this is a blind spot that a lot of us have.

The other item that I ended up reconsidering drastically is driverless cars, and so I need to introduce a little background for this as well. I am not at all technophobic, and in fact embrace a lot of the electronic achievements that we’ve been making over the past half-century. But I’m skeptical over the promises that have been made, since most of the pie-in-the-sky predictions have never come to pass, and progress has been significantly slower than we would have liked. But more to the point, humans are a remarkably fast and versatile thinking system, able to absorb and react to unexpected circumstances in milliseconds, and driving is one of those situations where reacting to the unexpected is crucial to avoiding accidents, injuries, and death. Computers haven’t been coming up to speed very well at all in such regards, and the thought of leaving control of a motor vehicle entirely up to a program is worrisome; it doesn’t take much to go wrong, and the frequent updates for any given bit of software does not instill confidence in our abilities to make stable and trustworthy electronic systems.

And with all that said, I am finding myself more and more in favor of driverless cars. The key distinction within is that, while humans can be remarkably adept at handling unexpected situations, this does not mean that we always are. I live in a state where turn signals are somehow considered optional, unnecessary from either a courtesy, safety, or effort standpoint, and the bare ability to remain within the driving lane seems only slightly more important. Pretty much every time I’m on the road now, I see someone doing something stupid (and I imagine that the same might well be said about my driving as well, at least at times – I know from experience that I shouldn’t be in conversation when I’m looking for the next turn.) Driving is less and less considered an activity that requires careful attention and effort, and more a chore that gets in the way of being someplace or doing something else. To say nothing of the impatience and frustration, the teeth-gritting agony of having to slow down and go wide around bicyclists and pedestrians, much less coming to a full stop at intersections.

But there’s something that’s worse, and it’s that we’re a betting species. We play the odds constantly, whether it’s over the chance of a cop actually catching us breaking the speed limit or that there won’t be someone in the oncoming lane right at this very moment. And we’re stupid enough to believe that if it hasn’t happened so far, this trend will continue. Not to mention, I can do something stupid right now because everyone else is supposed to be following the rules – we will count on, actually bet on, other drivers not being as dumb as we are. It sounds ridiculous when it’s phrased this way, but you know how often it really happens because nobody phrases it that way in their head.

And that’s a very important factor, because a driverless car will never try to justify its actions, will never have a line of programming that says, “Just this once.” It won’t get impatient, it won’t drive angry, it won’t fucking hit the road saying, “I’m not that drunk/high/pig ignorant of consequences.” It will never fumble for something that fell under the seat, much less concern itself with texting friends inanely. All of the good driving habits that we have ever been taught will not be things to remember, or stuff used only on the tests and never again thereafter, but part of the program – not rules, but akin to physical laws; there is no option for breaking them.

Moreover, if some of the advances proposed so far come to pass – and there’s no reason to believe they won’t, since they’re not that difficult to accomplish – driverless cars will be far more aware of the surroundings and environment than any human driver. Knowing someone is within the car’s blind spot will be automatic, relayed by short-range IR “radar” or even constant proximity ‘announcements’ from every vehicle; there will be no blind spots. Sudden braking can produce a warning transmitted to every other vehicle in a wide radius behind, and all reaction times to unexpected events will be faster than human and not subject to variation or distraction. Riding in a driverless car may well be quite different from the way we would normally drive, because they will certainly err on the side of caution and won’t take any chances, but who cares? No one would need to be looking at the road anyway.

I’m not unduly optimistic: there will be failures of the system, and accidents, in some cases ones that could have easily been avoided by an alert human driver. But let me suggest an exercise. Right now, within a 30-kilometer radius of where you sit, how many human drivers are doing something incredibly stupid? Or to try a different perspective, how many of the fatal accidents that occur every day have come solely from failure of the mechanical aspect of the vehicles? And of those, how many could have been avoided by the driver utilizing the correct response to the situation? Taking stupid out of the equation will greatly reduce the number of roadway injuries and fatalities that occur. Full stop.

But we have a different perspective on leaving control to machines. If and when a failure occurs, we see it as avoidable, something that humans would not have done, or could have prevented. But that’s true of the vast majority of accidents out there, and not to put too fine a distinction on it, even mechanical failures are mostly human at heart (heh!); improper programming or the failure to anticipate such-and-such situation, poor quality control or inadequate materials for the task. These cars aren’t going to be assembling themselves, even if the factory were completely automated. Yet the idea of relinquishing control is uncomfortable, sometimes galling, and more so if we consider the idea that these lowly machines could do it better than we can.

This is where I credit such changes in attitude to critical thinking. The drive to explore, and the insecurity over relinquishing control, are emotions – traits that worked to help us survive, but not necessarily a rational consideration of the factors involved. “I don’t like it,” isn’t by default a rational response, and in far too many cases it’s just the opposite, a reaction based on thinking biases, or assumptions, or preconceived notions. But critical thinking, and most especially the process of debate, provokes us to examine the responses, to build a case for our standpoints, to know ourselves – at least a little bit.

And there’s another factor. As mentioned above, we don’t like admitting that we’re wrong, and like it even less when someone else does it for us – we see it as losing a competition, as silly as that seems. But we can do it for ourselves, internally, by simply arriving at a better solution; we’re wrong, but we’re also right for correcting ourselves, you know? Much better than someone else beating us to it.

Does that make this post one ridiculously long humble-brag? Probably, though I’d like to think it was still making a point about examining one’s values. But what the hell – you’re the only one reading this anyway ;-)

Monday color 30

green sweat bee Halictidae on partridge pea blossom
This Monday color comes from the same outing related here, as a member of the Halictidae family, otherwise known as sweat bees, partakes of the flower of a partridge pea plant (Chamaecrista fasciculata.) It’s funny – I grew up calling them sweat bees like everyone else in my neighborhood, but adult me (okay, bigger me, sheesh) figured this was a colloquial term and so I didn’t bother using it when searching for the species, but it appears this is a common name for them.

The framing with the out-of-focus leaves to the right, by the way, was perfectly intentional – I’m a strong believer in keeping elements of that nature complete in the frame, and it continued the emphasis towards the right that is maintained by both the bee and the flower. The soft lighting, I think, adds a lot to the shot.

But how? Part 19: The defense against evil

I was working on another post that dealt with clarifying some details about atheism, and the initial premise of this was one of those points. As I started to address it, I realized that it wasn’t going to be covered in a paragraph or two, and so it has become the latest installment in the But How? lineup, to wit: But how does atheism or secularity defend against evil?

What I was originally correcting was the idea that atheism equates with satanism, a belief that, though asinine, is held by a surprising number of people. The short answer is, if atheists don’t believe in god, they sure as hell (a ha ha) don’t believe in another character from the same stories, especially one that the nonexistent god was supposed to have created – this is kind of a “no shit” point that it would seem unnecessary to make, but many people don’t apply logic even this far. And in fact, if it helps, atheism shouldn’t be considered a disbelief in god, but all of them, every one ever proposed, and indeed all supernatural things whatsoever. So no angels, demons, wraiths, blah blah blah. I won’t assert that this applies to every atheist out there, but it’s pretty safe to treat it as an overriding rule.

Yet there’s another argument that comes into play, and that’s the frequent idea that, if you do not “accept god into your heart” or any variation of a faithful defense, this automatically allows one to be controlled by satan or overtaken by evil tendencies or whatever – the variations are numerous, but largely similar in concept. This assumes the preconception – a priori if you want to sound like a pompous ass – that evil is a distinctive, coherent force or property at least (if not personified in whatever archvillain one prefers,) and not just a label we apply to actions or concepts that we really disagree with. The former has never been demonstrated in any objective manner whatsoever, while the latter is how the concept is used constantly, even by the devout. We’ll come back to this shortly.

Further, as the meddling kids pull off the rubber mask, we find underneath (in chorus now) “M’sieur Blaise Pascal!” – the argument is just a variation of Pascal’s Wager, and suffers the same flaws. Briefly, if there is no god but you believe in one, no biggie, but if there is a god and you don’t believe, you’re hell-fodder. Pascal liked math, which might be the reasoning behind reducing this whole concept to a binary state (or that might just be pop psychology,) but it ignores the myriad problems such as which god is correct, or whether faith through fear is true, or the utter pointlessness of requiring faith without evidence (making it some sort of petty game,) and all that rot.

Let’s take a closer look at this game. We are to believe, it seems, that without divine acceptance, we are either prone to or automatically within the thrall of evil itself. Since this is a deliberate state of affairs, one must ask what purpose this serves, and most especially, why is it weighted towards the bad side? Challenges of a similar nature that we place before ourselves are for developing skills that will be useful later in life (you know, improvement and survival,) but in this case, the ‘payoff’ happens after death and is, by most accounts, quite final. This explicitly implies that the status of our souls is some kind of currency, and not for our own use. The only religions where a retained status after death makes even passing sense are those with a reincarnation cycle that allows progression, and even then, we must ask why.

It’s easy to assume that this ‘automatic evil’ pretty much necessitates that atheists alone would participate in more evil actions overall than any other demographic, but what it should actually demonstrate is which religion is the One True Faithâ„¢, because every other religion would be susceptible to the very same thing. Can evidence of this be found? Yeah, good luck with those statistics. It would also necessitate that it should be quite hard to tell when we ourselves – and by this I mean everyone – are under the influence of this evil; otherwise we would consciously steer away from it. What we’re inexorably approaching is the definition of ‘evil’ itself, to even quantify the actions. This is where it gets interesting.

Any religion you name will have adherents that answer it this simply: “Evil is anything against my religion.” Not exactly an objective measure, especially when religions routinely clash over this definition, often in extremely bloody ways, still – yes, check a week’s worth of world news, this is not a thing of the past. Teaching evolution? Evil. Allowing women to show their faces in public? Evil. Eating cows or pigs? Evil. Starting fires on Saturday? Evil. It’s pretty safe to say that everyone is able to be considered evil by at least someone else, even if it’s for playing music too loud too late at night. I’m going to call this a pretty shitass way of determining the benefits of one’s actions. Which is why so much of law is dedicated not towards promoting some arbitrary religious definition of acceptable behavior, but towards restricting those actions which are openly detrimental to others in a demonstrable and inarguable way. Benefit and detriment are not difficult concepts for the vast majority of human interactions, and wonder of wonders, we have brains capable of fathoming them.

Keeping with the theme that divine grace must be obtained, this means that we must choose the correct faith among all of those available. Again, most religious folk treat this in a pretty binary way: there is one religion (the one they grew up with, by a vast margin,) and a bunch of obvious delusions; this pretty much assumes that getting it right is mostly a matter of birth or happenstance. If we exercise reason all the way up to considering that any other religions might be legitimate, then the game becomes, how are we to choose the correct one? I mean, let’s be real: they all promise to be the word of god and/or the One True Way, so assurances aren’t a solution. Thus, if we end up using our judgment, we’re going to have to understand what good and evil really are – which, again, isn’t really that hard. The alternative is to believe (as many do) that revelation, or our instincts, are supposed to guide the way. Instincts obviously haven’t done much to whittle down the plethora of choices – indeed, there are more now than ever before in history – while revelation pretty much means that god is doing the choosing, doesn’t it? So now we aren’t supposed to make a choice? This process isn’t resolving itself too quickly, is it?

[It is worth bringing something else up here: if we consider any behaviors that religious folk have gotten up to over the centuries as being wrong – holy wars, witch hunts, misogyny, bigotry, slavery, anti-semitism, beating children – then we are assuming that we can and should use our own judgment of what’s right or wrong. Which is fine – I’ve always argued in favor of this remarkably simple action. But religious folk, all too often, resort to their scripture as being the final word, abdicating thought in favor of blind fealty. Curiously, they only seem to do it for things that a) are currently socially acceptable, and b) align with what they want to do in the first place.]

Another commonly claimed aspect of the inevitable descent into evil without faith is, “doing the devil’s work” – the primary point of becoming evil, so we are told, is that one recruits more followers, satan’s own missionaries. So of course, this should be pretty obvious as well. Since we’re here on an openly atheist blog, this is rather solid evidence of this recruitment, isn’t it? No argument from me, believe it or not. Of course, it also applies, and often much more so, to most other religions as well – the line up there about “missionaries” was not accidental. Religious folk are notoriously bad about seeing things from a narrow perspective, and this usually includes the idea that they themselves couldn’t possibly be evil, but if we’re going to treat this as a serious aspect of theology, then we have to dispense with the special rules that automatically favor any given party. Again, which religion is the correct one? I mean, we’re talking about the polar extremes of good and evil, so this should, by all rights and definitions, be pretty damn obvious. But it isn’t, is it?

Let’s step back and consider what the recruitment of evil might actually look like. No one, of course, wants to be evil, so nothing overt can take place; it would have to be subtle and misleading, easy for people to mistake as good while not actually accomplishing anything good. Quite a few different techniques might fit with this, such as an environment where questioning authority figures is bad, and the delineation of rules that don’t really accomplish anything but cannot be broken, and most especially, the creation of separate groups of people that reinforce certain standards within and discourage questioning and critical examination; this might even go so far as to establish ‘pat answers’ that don’t really answer anything and dismiss difficult topics completely. You know, like, “It’s all part of a master plan.” Yes, I just described the vast majority of churches to a T.

Contrast this against both atheism and secularity, which don’t have churches and rarely even promote group gatherings, encourage critical examination and the consideration of alternatives, and concentrate on guidance that can objectively be considered good by everyone, or at least as many people as humanly possible. Oh, and the complete eradication of arbitrary privilege and ersatz authority.

I’m not trying to be funny, and I’m not making the point that churches or religion overall are tools of the devil – I consider the whole concept to be horseshit, remember? But the fact remains that, if you want to guide someone away from their inherent tendencies, there are a lot of ways to do this, and churches have employed them all at one time or another. Up to and including the very idea that not following their guidance was evil, regardless of where it actually led – you know, like witch hunts and holy wars and misogyny and slavery and so on and so on – you cannot kill an infidel unless you’ve first established the very concept of ‘infidel.’

All of this has been working from the standpoint that the churches promote, that evil is a coherent thing. However, it’s actually very easy to see how flawed this idea is, and secular humanism (and pretty much any ideology and philosophy not tied to a religion, as well as psychology and sociology) dismiss this as nonsense. Anyone – me, you, your folks – can do evil, or to be more objective, things that are openly detrimental to others without any outweighing benefits. I make it a point throughout this blog to clarify that it’s not what people are, but what they do; trying to apply a label to someone is a shortcut in thinking, and purposefully dismisses everything that they might do that wouldn’t charitably fit within the label. When we examine the figures from history that are most often tagged as evil, the first thing we note is that there is no religion, nor lack thereof, that they can claim as common. Second comes the bare fact that none of them acted alone; they all had followers, thousands to millions of them in most cases, and these followers had even less commonality. Moreover, the vast majority believed they were doing good. The problems arise when one’s definition of good and evil are more self-serving and insular, to say nothing of political and expansionist goals hidden behind pre-existing religious motivations. Believing that there are absolutes in life makes decisions much easier – not better, just easier; see the bit above about ‘infidels.’

Or, we could view it all from a sociological and biological perspective, where good and evil are not useful concepts because they’re far too vague and subjective, and absolutes simply don’t exist. Instead, we see things from the standpoint of motivations, and become aware of how humans justify actions under the combined influences of survival behavior, status, protection, and yes, even tribalism. We become aware that everyone, given the right motivations, can be induced to do things highly detrimental to others, and often these motivations are easy to manipulate – moreover, these have been demonstrated countless times in tests. We start seeing how even rationality is not the distinctive trait that we often believe, but instead colored by impulses and reactions and ‘fitting in.’ For instance, does it make any sense at all to care about what any sports team is doing? What is this accomplishing, how is it improving anything at all for us? But still, it’s a huge interest among humans. Figure out why, and you start to understand how small a part rational thought actually plays – and that ‘rational’ is too subjective a term in itself.

So, since rationality is weak, that means that spiritual or scriptural guidance is a good thing to use in its place, right? Isn’t that the whole message? But again, this argument doesn’t carry very far – to the church doors and no farther, really. Every religion makes the same claims, but obviously, not every religion is providing the same guidance, and while it would be nice to assume that the faith we were raised within is, by the most remarkable of coincidences, the perfectly correct one, good luck convincing anyone else of that. Meanwhile, rationality and decision-making, despite the fact that there are no absolutes within, still perform astoundingly well, so well that we use them constantly and, surprise surprise, they are the very foundation of learning. If the creators’ message was that we shouldn’t rely on them, the message has certainly been quite mixed, since they’re more dependable than anything else that we’ve ever embraced. Worse, most religious folk even stuff rationality into their faith, as they decide what parts of scripture are just too batshit to follow or willingly dismiss the bloodthirstiness as metaphorical or ‘contextual.’ [Actually, a very large percentage of religious folk don’t even bother with the scripture, but simply follow what everyone else around them is doing…]

So we come back to the original question: How does atheism or secularity defend against evil? And the short answer to that is, by knowing what it is. And while it’s easy to believe that secularism handles the issue of evil by dismissing it as nonsense, it’s a lot deeper than that. Since we can all perform bad acts, there is no magic membership that exempts us from worrying about it; no holy emblem or weekly ritual will fend off the looming specter. We protect ourselves from evil, or more specifically from doing highly detrimental things to others, by maintaining an awareness of what we do and why we do it, by realizing it should not be defined by arbitrary standards or ‘what everyone else believes.’ We can figure out good and bad without difficulty in the vast majority of cases, and do not need ancient texts to fill in for our feeble reasoning powers.

And I feel this is necessary to add, even though the hint was dropped more than a few times above: the very idea of a ‘wolf at the door’ has been a manipulation technique for a long time now… and so has the automatic bestowal of ‘privilege.’ Like the late night infomercials that promise to solve a problem we never knew we had, religions have always been at the forefront of telling us of the looming threat, as well as actually defining it for us – with, naturally, the promise of making it all go away, send $29.95 to the address on your screen. And look, here’s a friend of ours who is a happy customer. But don’t worry – abusing those people over there isn’t evil, because they’re evil, so we’re actually doing good, be careful not to slip in the blood…

Though people have a really hard time believing this about their own churches and faith, they readily accept it, and even consider it necessary, when regarding all of those other faiths, especially the ones that, you know, hate outsiders and have all those nonsense rules. You know the ones. But there’s a logical point that is usually missed when making these considerations: just because all of the others are wrong, doesn’t mean that at least one has to be right.

Of course, all of this is coming from one of them atheists, so paying any attention at all is evil – close your eyes and run away, and certainly don’t think for yourself.

*     *     *     *

There are two other arguments that I have used several times in the past that are relevant to the considerations in this post, both intended as thinking exercises. The poet Baudelaire once wrote, “The devil’s finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist” (this was paraphrased in the film The Usual Suspects, where it helped the plot along.) And the nonexistence of both the devil and evil itself is what I’m saying above, so ol’ Baudy’s got the drop on me, eh? But, there’s an even greater trick, and that would be the devil convincing the world that he was god. Yes, that’s right, it would mean that every bit of scripture was a lie. But good luck finding any indication of this, like anachronisms, and events completely without evidence, and unbelievable stories, and followers provoked into vicious actions, and petty behavior from the gods…

The other argument that I’ve posited, strictly for giggles, was if there really is a creator, but religion itself is a test to see if humans will accept it blindly through crass attempts to appease our overlord, or if we will trust in our senses and everyday experiences and move beyond that, showing that we are truly an advanced species that can utilize the brainpower that we have. And then we go to the next level.

I still consider them both nonsense myself, since they both rely on supernatural stuff that just doesn’t work (which means that the second one defeats itself, really,) but they remain a set of alternate considerations intended to spark a bit more thinking than usual.

And a further note. They’re both “What if?” scenarios, which are admittedly pretty lame; anyone can make up anything at all and ask what would happen if it was true, which is really only useful to keep stoned college students occupied, at least until the Doritos run out. Yet, such scenarios are used all the time in religious discussions, and in fact, religion itself is largely the proposition that scripture and/or any interpretations thereof might be true, because we can’t actually support this at all (not to mention how often the bits that are demonstrably untrue are openly dodged.) This can’t lead anywhere except towards a favored conclusion. But critical thinking, and for that matter most of the sciences, instead focuses on support for any proposition, the weight of evidence and probability, and becomes both more trustworthy and less subjectively indulgent.

Making up

Monarch butterfly Danaus plexippus caterpillar chowing down
I did almost no shooting this week, but made up for it a little on Saturday when I had two students, though all of these images came from the second session. This month will be a new record for images uploaded, mostly because of this post, but there may still be more.

The opening image is a monarch butterfly caterpillar (Danaus plexippus,) the first I think I’ve seen around here, and one of two immediately visible in the UNC Botanical Garden. From the size, both were probably not far from forming a chrysalis, so I may be making more frequent trips out there to keep an eye on things, since this is one species I would desperately like to have a sequence of, given that the chrysalis is transparent and you can watch the colors develop from pale blue pupa (don’t ask me why this happens from a caterpillar of this color) into the orange and black of the adult butterfly.

[I have to note this as meaningless trivia. I often name my images something goofy and/or punny, partially because it helps me find them faster; this one was originally going to be named “MonarchMeal.jpg” before I realized that “FitForAKing.jpg” was the same thing but better. Moving on…]

Leatherwing Chauliognathus beetle facing off with eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly Papilio glaucus on flowerHere, a very-common eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly (Papilio glaucus) finds that its targeted nectar producer is already occupied by a variety of Chauliognathus beetle, probably one of the leatherwing species and also extremely common – I had no idea it was there when I leaned in to snag the butterfly as it landed. Chauliognathus can be found all over the place around here, and nothing seems to want to eat them – I have seen them openly ignored by mantids, lynx spiders, and assassin bugs. BugGuide.net had no mention of defenses, but the beetles do indeed have a way of deterring predators, a milky acid secreted on demand, though whether this is irritating or simply bad-tasting I cannot say. With enough upvotes (see the button below) I’ll pop one in my mouth and find out directly…

bumblebee bombus delighted at new flower
There have been quite a few Hemaris to be found this summer, which is very cool, but that’s not what this is. When the one I was following flew off, I switched over to the bumblebees raiding the flowers. This one just caught my attention as I was sorting images – it seemed so delighted to find another blossom waiting for it. Look – it even appears like its mouth is open, though they don’t actually have one that we would recognize.

tiny white crab spider perhaps Mecaphesa on flowerGiven the lack of flowers in my immediate area, I’ve been planning on hunting down the crab spiders when I returned to the botanical garden, since it’s the only place with the yellow and white flowers that the crab spiders seem to prefer. As you can see here, I was successful, but not exactly as intended; I had planned for something a bit bigger. I didn’t go for the really detailed closeups – as I said earlier, that requires a lighting rig that I don’t lug around when I’m out with a student – but I’m going to take a stab at this being a Mecaphesa anyway.

Overall, spiders seem to be relatively scarce this year, and I can’t say why – I’m inclined to blame the harsh winter that we had, which they’re not used to in this area, but that’s only an uneducated guess. Long before this time last year I had found several sizable specimens, including wolf spiders laden with their young, but have barely seen any this year. In my experience, however, arthropod species seem to have preferred seasons; one year the ladybeetles were prolific and the following year almost unseen. This year the mantids seemed to hatch very late. It may have a lot to do with what weather conditions exist at certain times, like during egg-laying and birthing season.

blue dasher dragonfly Pachydiplax longipennis framed against lily pad
I went bigger for this one, since the wing detail wasn’t showing well in smaller versions – this is a blue dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis.) Dragonflies aren’t really hard to photograph, but doing something interesting with them is preferred. Here I experimented with shooting through a gap in the nearby reeds while centering the Odonata against a lily pad – the reeds are so far out of focus that they nearly vanish, but have some interesting effects with the specular highlights from the water anyway. The reeds are directly between me and the wings on both sides, but don’t really block the view at all – see this page for an explanation of how this occurs. This was tighter crop of a larger frame, and can be re-framed any number of ways, one of the benefits of shooting a bit wider.

Author Homo sapiens doing a selfie in a hanging mirrorAnother experiment, a gruesome one. At one point in the garden was an art installation that featured several round mirrors dangling from monofilament, twisting gently, and I crouched down and timed the rotation to snag a self-portrait. The focus is a little off, with good reason: when shooting a reflection, you are not focusing onto the surface that is reflecting, but past it all the way to the subject, the entire light distance. With a spinning mirror, however, there is only a fraction of a second when the distance is correct, too little time to snag autofocus, much less the manual focus I was using with this lens, so it’s actually surprising (to me, anyway) that it came out this well. I like the surreal aspect of it with the defocused edges of the mirror, done with no tricks at all, but don’t worry – it’s not going to be the end-of-month abstract shot.

To make up for doing that to you, however, I offer the image below. The session was almost up, and I was lamenting that I had not seen any green anoles (Anolis carolinensis) at all, even though I was expressly keeping my eyes open for them because the garden is a favored habitat of theirs. And then, with two minutes to spare, this little specimen was found, posed fetchingly on a plant with its long (and surprisingly intact) tail hanging down. Even this big on the blog isn’t doing it justice, and I like how the toes are maintaining a negligent grip on its perch. I can only guess that it had just leapt to this locale from elsewhere, though I did not see or hear this occur, and only the gentle swinging of its tail alerted me to its presence. I’m pleased with it.

green anole Anolis carolinensis perched awkwardly on plant

On the negative side 5

American alligator Alligator mississippiensis in Ding Darling Wildlife Refuge
Yeah, it’s been one of those not-posting weeks, which is how it goes sometimes. So, once again we dig into the archives, back in the days when I was shooting negative film, before I got serious and switched to slides (much less digital, which came even later.) And so we find ourselves in May, 1994 – geez, over 21 years ago! It doesn’t seem that long at all. A couple of friends and I were vacationing in Florida, only my second visit (the first being a family trip 16 years previous to that – man, now I feel old.) We were down on Sanibel Island, and had rented bikes to tour around, including doing a pass through J.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge. Let me help you out here: If you have not ridden a bike in a while, it is not best to start with someplace that has sand trails, especially not on a hot day.

Anyway, I was on a quest for cool critters – shocking I know – and stopped at one point to peer through some foliage at a pool that I could just barely make out. Revealed through my efforts, really not very far away, was the first alligator I’d ever seen in the wild, floating placidly. Not an impressive specimen as far as gators go, being somewhere in the vicinity of 1.5 meters, but it was a gator! And right there! I mean, they’re remarkably prehistoric-looking reptiles, pretty much only found down in the southeast corner of the country, quite exotic when compared to the fauna found everyplace I’d ever lived before that. Even on that previous trip, we’d only seen captives, so this was my personal milestone.

As images go, it’s okay, but that’s it – nice textures and lighting, but not even fartsy. There wasn’t much I could do about the foreground leaves almost blocking my view, the ones that produced the green blobs, but I think they give a faint hint of peeking through the foliage – nowadays I’d be tempted to frame them better to enhance that aspect. It was some time later, after the print was hanging on my wall, that I realized how much of the body of the gator can be seen underneath the water.

Funny, I can almost pin down the exact date this was taken, since it was on the same trip as the first shots here. Knowing our passage across the state, I can say this was likely three or four days later.

Traveling with others that have different interests means that you spend only a portion of the time doing what you really want to do, so within a few years I did a solo trip, the first of many, and was able to dedicate my efforts to exploring and photography. On my return to this refuge, I was wondering if I’d be lucky enough to see an alligator again, and was sitting in the car filling out the donation form at the head of the wildlife drive when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. In the channel right alongside the drive, less than four meters away, a massive gator was cruising by, so close that I couldn’t even frame its head with the 75-260mm lens I had affixed – I had to wait until it passed a bit further off.

American alligator Alligator mississippiensis in roadside channel
This one was pushing three meters, many times the mass of the first, the size that says, “Don’t get out of the car” – compare the eyes with that above. But yeah, welcome to the refuge, and it was the first of many images that day that would convince me to keep returning to Ding Darling. If you visit Florida (much less live there,) and don’t go at least once, you’re a doodyhead.

Monday color 29

backlit red hibiscus bloom against blue sky and cloudsToday’s Monday color was shot exactly one year ago – tomorrow. I say this now so you have time to find a gift.

I almost used this for a previous Monday color, because that week was when I introduced the page of editing tricks that features the same image (meaning this is not its first appearance,) but then I had that other shot which merited a mention on white balance, so it was topical.

A brief note on positioning here: subtle changes can make significant differences in the photo. If you look closely at that blossom, you can see that the textures of the petals are very distinct, especially at the top – the light angle was just right to create some shadowing from the natural ridges, and thus give the flower a bit more definition and shape. It takes real effort to notice things like this, and I’ll be honest: I was concentrating on framing that flower against the clouds after I noticed the natural glow, and capturing the textures was only incidental. Still, it illustrates that a very slight change of angle can add some subtle enhancements to your images at times. Just something to be aware of while you’re, you know, concentrating on all that other stuff at the same time.

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